#it's like they were made in a lab to mess with my head

[monsterhugger]

watching the anime now im definitely feeling like ash is really cagey abt being touched. which makes total sense given his history but i think it's a bigger deal than i thought on my initial read

like... him letting eiji hold his gun and everyone being shocked is kinda the precursor to him letting eiji touch *him*. and the fact eiji is one of the only people who CAN touch him without fearing for their lives. i get the sense it clicks to everyone who knows ash that eiji is special because holy shit ash does not let anyone touch him ever and this guy is allowed to hug him, to dress his wounds, to bathe him...

it's just so sweet to me idk

[mrsbarnesblog]

Push him

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x PR manager! Reader

Summary: When you became Avenger’s PR manager, you basically got your dream job, but one particular man, who had been staring at you every single time you were around, made you wonder whether it was because he hated or liked you.

Word count: 6.8K

Warnings: smut, bucky is obsessed with your short skirts, bucky is recovering, grumpy x sunshine, good friend natasha romanoff, office sex, oral sex (f), unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, pet names

Author's note: ‼️so if you haven't seen my previous post, this is my new account. you may have seen this work on my old one (@inmyicyworld) but it was terminated and @support doesn't respond to me. please, follow and share this work. I'm going to reupload all of my old fanfics and hope to get your support ❤️

The work at the Avengers Tower wasn’t what you expected it to be. Tony Stark found you while you were working for another company a little bit more than a month ago. He was amazed by the way you were dealing with problems, by your charisma, and by your ability to find a common language with everyone. That’s how he knew that he had to have you as his partner and a part of the team.

The next day, you got a call directly from Tony, asking you to quit your job and accept his offer to work as Avenger’s PR manager. It would be an understatement to say that your jaw dropped to the floor when you heard your salary.

He said that you were totally worth it and that working with a group of such different people was not easy, but he was sure that you would be perfect at this. So on that exact day, you decided to take a risk and accept the challenge.

One thing that you hated about your previous job was the strict dress code. It was simply far from your style because you hated wearing the same basic and boring clothes every day. Tony said that it was the last thing that he cared about, and in that building, no one was obligated to wear certain clothes.

You knew that it was your lucky ticket.

He was actually really friendly and funny in person. You talked a lot during your first day while he was showing you all the necessary places in the tower: your office, his lab, common rooms and kitchens, avenger’s rooms, and even a beautiful garden on the roof. By the way, Tony allowed you to decorate your office however you wanted and gave you the number of the person who was responsible for this.

In short, it was perfect.

You were giddy with excitement on your first actual day of work. According to the plan, you had to meet with the Avengers and then arrange a few meetings for Tony.

It felt like you spent hours before your mirror deciding what to wear. Your whole room was a mess, and when you finally completed your look, which consisted of a short black skirt, beige long sleeve and a brown leather jacket on top, it was already time to go.

Everyone in the room heard you before they saw you because of the sound of your heels clicking on the wood floor.

“Don’t tell me that this is our PR manager, Stark.” Black Widow looked you up and down with a smirk on her face. “You look good, hun. Finally, someone with a taste in this boring group of losers, besides me and Wanda, of course.”

“Hi.” You nicely smiled, not ready to get a compliment as soon as you stepped into the room.

“Ohh, she’s also the sweet one.” Another red-headed woman, Wanda, said with a smile.

“You both, shut up.” Tony stood up from the armchair with a pack of chips in one hand and threw the other one over your shoulder. “Want some?” He asked you, showing the food, but you slightly shook your head. “Whatever… Now, you all listen here, this is Y/N; she’s our new PR manager. I stole her from someone because she’s incredibly smart and good at her job. Starting from this moment, she’s going to cover up your asses and organize all this stupid media stuff.” You blushed at his words but were still silent. “So, this is Natasha, Wanda, Steve, Bucky, and Th—wait, you already know them, right?”

“Yeah, of course I do.” You chuckled. “By the way, it’s nice to meet all of you. I hope we can work together, and I will have a chance to be helpful.” You took a look at all the Avengers in the room, and everyone looked at you with a smile except one person, whose eyes sent shivers down your spine.

When you looked at Bucky, you saw that his eyes were scanning your body with an unreadable expression, and you suddenly felt really weird in your short skirt. Your eyes met, and his famous death stare was really quite scary. He didn’t like you? You two were staring at each other for a few seconds, and you believe that the rest of the team noticed it because Steve loudly cleared his throat to get your attention.

He asked you a few questions about you, and Clint and Sam made a few jokes. Everything was fine as you all chatted for a little bit until Tony said that everyone should get ready for tomorrow’s mission, and you too have a lot to do.

You went back to your office only with the thought that, during this whole time, Bucky was staring at you like he wanted to burn a hole in your head.

Later that day, Bucky was sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of already-cold coffee while Steve was making himself dinner. It was quiet besides the sound of the cooking food, or at least Bucky didn’t listen to Steve’s words because he was too deep in his thoughts.

Well, he was mostly thinking about you and his mixed feelings about this interaction. As soon as you walked into the room, you had his whole attention. He couldn’t help but stare at your body, at your open legs, and at your smiley face. He knew that he sounded like a total creep and that it was inappropriate to look at other people this way, but he had never seen women dress this way. Was it normal right now? Was it new fashion trends or something? The only women that he had been interacting with for the past few years were women from Wakanda, and in the tower it was mostly Nat and Wanda, and he had never seen them dress like that. Or, at least, he just didn’t care enough to notice it.

When he saw you today, he felt something in him, and he didn’t like that feeling. It was something new, something that he had never experienced before, but his body became tense and his stomach tightened. It was weird.

“What, you're still trying to process her?” He was distracted from his thoughts by Sam, who came to the kitchen to grab a bottle of cold water from the fridge. Bucky looked at him and furrowed his brows when he saw a shitty smirk.

“What the fuck are you talking about? And why are you smiling like an idiot?” Bucky growled.

“Because you’re thinking about Y/N.” His words caught Steve’s attention, and he came closer.

“That’s why you two were staring at each other like that?” Steve said this while drying his hands with a towel. “Do you like her? I think she seems cute.”

“No, I don’t. She just looks... different.”

“Oh, the old man got excited by the beautiful woman and her short skirt.” Sam’s smile got even wider as he started teasing Bucky. “You know, I wanted to ask her out, but I can take a step back if you like her.” He leaned on the table so he could get under Bucky’s skin even more.

“I do not like her.”

“So you’re okay if I ask her out? Maybe I should go to her office right now.” Sam pretended like he was really thinking about this.

“Sam...” Steve said.

“You both are just getting on my fucking nerves.” Bucky’s chair almost fell to the floor when he angrily stood up. “Do whatever the fuck you want, I don’t care about you or her.” With these words, he stormed out of the room, and Sam started to laugh out loud.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” Steve shook his head like a disappointed mother whose kids always fight.

“That was fun, and maybe it’ll push him to ask her out. She’s hot, but not my type; I’m just trying to help this idiot.”

You have been working with the Avengers for over a month now. This work was literally a dream from any angle. You were making a lot of money, doing the job that you really liked, and found a lot of close friends.

Almost everyone on the team was very close to you. Natasha and Wanda were particularly your best friends. Sam was the funniest person you’ve ever met, and he always found time to tease you or to make a compliment. Bruce and Clint were like your uncles—a little bit old and annoying, but always with a piece of advice for you. A few times, you and Steve met at the gym when you came to work too early, so he was happy to train with you. Who would’ve thought that Captain America himself would teach you how to throw a punch?

The only pain in your ass was Bucky Barnes. Well, to be fair, he didn’t do anything. You’re not even sure that you heard his voice. He was always just staring. Any time that you came to the room and he was there, you either saw him from the corner of your eyes or felt his burning gaze on your back.

To this day, you had no problems with your job. You organized a few interviews for Tony and Steve, talked to the newspapers and magazines, and held some meetings, but right now, sitting on your white chair, you felt weirdly nervous.

Bucky had to come here any minute to talk about a recent accident. Apparently, he almost knocked out someone on the street. All the press and news sources were taking advantage of the situation and using loud headlines to cast a shadow on Bucky and get more views. “The Winter Soldier is back?”. “The Winter Soldier almost killed an innocent man on the street.”

It has been the biggest topic on the internet for the past few hours. Most of the people were furious and wrote too many inappropriate and rude things. So you asked FRIDAY to call Bucky so you could know the whole situation and give comments to the press as soon as possible.

You started thinking about what you should do, or, to be more honest, how to behave around Bucky, because a few days ago two red-headed women that you now considered your best friends assured you that he is in love with you and just doesn't know what to do with it.

You told them everything about his weird actions—that he always looked at you, checked your clothes, and stayed silent. Natasha and Wanda just looked at each other with smirks on their faces.

“Why are you looking at each other like that?” You arched an eyebrow and crossed your hands across your chest.

“Please, don't tell me that you don't understand his behavior.” Natasha looked at you and sipped her coffee.

Well, I wouldn’t have asked you if I knew the reason.”

“Honey, he lust likes you and thinks that you’re hot. You remember that he’s actually an old man, right? Women from his time didn’t dress like that, and you look really sexy.” Wanda’s words made Nat nod her head as you looked weirdly at both of them.

“That’s bullshit, Wanda. This can’t be true. I'm sure that he just doesn’t like me and thinks that I look too revealing. Or he just hadn’t had a girlfriend in a long time.”

“Some time ago, I came to the kitchen at like 2 a.m. just in my lingerie because I thought everyone was asleep. Barnes was sitting there with a book, and you know what? He just said “Hi” and didn’t even look at me again while I was making a sandwich. And when he sees you, he just can’t take his eyes away and stares like an idiot.”

You stayed silent, thinking about the girls' words, because everything seemed pretty reasonable.

“And what should I do?”

“I don’t know, seduce him or something.” Natasha just casually said it, and your eyebrows flew to your hairline.

“Wait, do you like him?” Wanda asked you, and Natasha huffed like it was obvious.

“I mean… he’s beautiful. I didn’t have a chance to talk to him, but Steve and Sam love him, and I trust their opinion.” You stopped trying to put together your thoughts. “To be honest, sometimes I think about the fact that he’s probably one of the hottest people I’ve ever seen. When we studied history at school, all the girls fell in love with America's Boy, and I with his best friend.”

“Then don’t wait. Just give him some hints, because I swear, for the ladies’ man, he’s too slow.” Natasha’s words made you smile. “Try to get closer to him; I don’t know, flash him with your boobs and look at the reaction. Push him a little bit. He’ll break.”

The loud knock on the door almost made you jump out of your chair.

“Come in.” You said this as you stood up and fixed your white dress and cardigan.

Bucky came probably to the lightest and most cozy room in the whole tower. A lot of white and pastel colors, comfy sofa and armchairs, and paintings on the wall. And in the middle of this was you—always perfectly looking, in heels, in a too-short dress, and with a smile on your face. He couldn't stop himself from looking at the smooth skin of your legs. It’s probably so soft...

“Em– Hi.” You awkwardly stood while his eyes were scanning your body. He didn’t answer; he just nodded. “So I think that we can sit there, it’s more comfortable.” You wave your hand at the sofa with a fluffy cover on it. “Do you want anything? Tea, coffee, water, soda?” Bucky just shook his head while he was trying to comfortably sit with a frown on his face.

You deeply inhaled while trying to be a professional. You didn’t know what was wrong with this man, but his behavior started to get on your nerves.

“Bucky, we can’t work together if you keep ignoring me. You can say if you don’t like something, because I don’t want to be on bad terms with anyone.” You sat across from him and crossed your legs.

“I don’t know what I should say.” His deep voice filled the room. Bucky took a pillow that was lying near him and started playing with the fringe. “I feel weird when I’m around you, and I don’t like it. I have thoughts that I shouldn’t have.” His eyes scanned your body once again, and you wondered if he was talking about what you thought.

“Can I do something to change it?”

“No.” He deeply inhaled. “It’s my own problem, and it’s not your job to try to fix it. Anyway, why am I here?”

“I think you know why. I need to ask you about the recent incident because I have a meeting with the press in less than an hour, and I have to give them a good reason why you did that. People didn’t take all that information too well.” You saw that Bucky sadly smiled and looked you directly in the eyes, making goosebumps appear on your skin. “So, tell me what’s happened.”

“You know that whatever you say won’t change people’s opinions about me, right? No one forgave me, and they’re still looking for a chance to call me a murderer.” He tried to hide behind a smile, but you saw everything written in his eyes. Bucky hurt himself with his own words.

“I understand how you feel about this whole situation, but we should address all those rumors because things might get worse.” You leaned on your knees with your hands, and Bucky’s eyes immediately fell on your boobs.

Push him a little bit. He’ll break.

You tried to hold back a smirk.

“Fuck.” He mumbled. “ I– um– I was walking from the coffee shop to the tower. It was another busy street with hundreds of people, but I still didn’t expect someone to touch me. That man jumped on my back or something, and my instincts just worked. I threw him over myself on the ground and put a hand on his throat. Turned out he wanted to take a picture. But I panicked because there are many people who want to take revenge and who might want to do it literally any second. I’m always ready for this.” He shrugged like it was nothing, but you could hear the pain in his voice.

You felt deeply sorry for the man before you. Even if he was cold and acted weird around you, you knew that it was his way to protect himself. After everything he came through, you couldn’t blame him.

“Do you still go to the therapist?” You gently asked.

“Yes, two times a week.” Bucky nervously ran his right hand through his hair while still holding your pillow in the metal one.

“Okay, that’s good; I can work with this information.” You nodded and reached for your journal on the coffee table. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Bucky. I really appreciate it. I’ll do my best to convince people that it was not your fault, okay?”

“Thank you, Y/N.” Bucky stood up, carefully putting your pillow in its place, and left your office without another word, while you were sitting there with a smile.

Maybe the girls were right.

After that day, everything between you and Bucky became even weirder. Yes, he wasn’t totally silent now, and you’ve got a few “Hi”, but his stares felt different.

It was like you two were playing some kind of game. Since you knew that he didn’t actually hate you, you tried to do as Natasha and Wanda said—get his attention and push more. And God, you loved that game.

Almost every day you found an opportunity or excuse to see him in common rooms or in the corridors of the Tower, and you made sure that Bucky noticed you. You wore tighter clothes, walked right past him, and looked at him with a smile. You knew that it was working because a few times Bucky just suddenly left the room while he was mumbling something.

It was almost 8 p.m., but you were still working on schedule for the next week. There was some kind of charity event, and Tony required you to convince everyone to go there because more Avengers can attract more sponsors and money. As always, Bucky was the one who refused to go there. He simply sees no reason for him to be there, and he doesn’t want to be there alone because he knows that Captain America will be the biggest star, and such a social butterfly as Sam will leave him in a second.

You decided that it would be better to talk to Bucky in person, but you didn’t want to lose a chance to get his attention, so you went by yourself instead of asking FRIDAY.

You looked in the small mirror to check your makeup and hair and went straight to where you knew Bucky was spending his evening. As you walked in a dark room filled with only light from the TV, you saw Sam and Steve sitting on the couch and Bucky on the armchair near them. You quietly walk to him and just casually sit on the armrest. His eyebrows flew to his hairline, and you heard that the chewing from the boys stopped. Bucky had no choice but to put his metal arm on your lower back.

“I need you in my office. You have to talk about the next charity event. Could you please give me some of your time?” You quietly asked and lowered yourself closer to him. Bucky was just staring at you for a few seconds, but then slightly nodded.

Bucky followed you to your office, not without getting smirks from the boys,and then stood near your table with his hands in his pockets.

“Don’t you want to sit?” You said and stepped closer to him.

“No.”

“Um– okay.” You took the papers from your table and stood in front of Bucky. “So, you know that there is going to be a charity event, and I’m responsible for getting all the Avengers there, and you are one of them.”

“I’m not going, I already told Tony.” He just shrugged.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not needed there. I’m not an actual hero, people have no interest in me, especially when there will be Iron Man, Captain America, and Thor, you know? Plus, I have no interest in sitting alone the whole night.” You saw that Bucky tried to be casual about it, but he just put salt on his own wound.

“Don’t say that, Bucky. There are people who want to see you there, you have a lot of fans. You know, I’m going there too, so if you don't mind, we can–”

“What game are you playing with me?” He interrupted you. Bucky straightened his shoulders, which made him look even bigger, and started moving closer to you, putting you in a trap between him and your desk.

“W– what do you mean?” You couldn't control your body as you started to tremble a little bit from the power that this man had. As soon as you bumped into the table, his hands landed on both sides of you, and his face was right in front of yours.

“Don’t act clueless, Y/N. I see what you’re doing.” He stopped for a second, studying your face. “You know, I tried to convince myself that you do all of this by accident, but now I’m sure that you’re just playing your little game. Am I right, doll?” You two were staring at each other, and you felt almost nauseous from different emotions.

He was so fucking beautiful up close. Piercing blue eyes, pink lips, and light stubble You know why many women thought that James Barnes was charming. If he had more confidence, he would’ve been unstoppable.

Your eyes slowly shifted lower to his arms and chest as you remained silent. He was big, with well-trained muscles that were seen through the tight black t-shirt. Both arms were stretched near you, so you had a really good opportunity to look at the smooth tanned skin and beautiful dark vibranium. You felt how your lower stomach tightened just from the thought of getting those pretty hands on your body…

You were pulled out of your head by a sudden movement of Bucky’s hand, which gripped your face and pushed your lips together. He was obviously dominating in the kiss, as if he were desperate to taste you. The tip of his tongue brushed over your lips, asking for entrance, which you happily gave him. The moan came out of you when Bucky moved away and looked you in the eyes, still holding your face.

“This whole fucking time I thought that I was a creep for looking at you, but now I know that you did everything on purpose, doll.” His eyes moved between your eyes and mouth. “All these short skirts and dresses that almost showed me everything underneath it, all these innocent smiles and looks... You did it to tease me?”

“Not at first...” You mumbled. “But you were acting so weird, and girls said that you liked me and just didn’t know what to do. I wanted to find out whether it was true or not.”

“Fuck, if I knew earlier that this was your plan, I would’ve bent you over the nearest surface, baby.” Bucky moved a little closer, brushing his lips over yours. “Do you know how fucking hot and gorgeous you are? I haven’t felt that way in many, many years. Just wanna kiss you and make you mine.”

“And what’s stopping you from this, Sargent?” You asked with a smile and moved your hand to the back of his neck to gently play with the baby hairs.

“You’re gonna be my death, doll face.” He mumbled before leaning closer and kissing you again.

This time, you started to touch each other's bodies. Bucky’s warm and cold hands landed on your thighs, playing with the hem of the skirt and rubbing your soft skin after he lifted you up a little bit and helped you sit on the table, staying in between your legs. Your own hands were moving up and down his broad chest, discovering all of his muscles.

“Bucky…” You whined into the kiss when his finger brushed against the edge of your already wet panties.

“Tell me.” Bucky moved away from your swollen lips and left a path of kisses down your neck. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.” He sucked a sensitive spot under your ear, which made you moan.

“I don’t know. Just do anything, please.” You both breathed heavily. You felt like you were too hot; your lower stomach ached, and your underwear was soaking wet. Bucky was looking at you with such lust in his eyes that you wanted him to destroy you.

“Lay back.” He ordered you as one of his hands went higher under your skirt and slid your black lace panties down your legs. You didn’t miss how Bucky shoved him into the back pocket of his jeans with a smirk on his face.

You quickly followed his instructions and just threw all the papers from our table on the floor. You’ll regret it later, but now you don't care. The sudden move of Bucky's metal arm grabbed and pulled your shirt, and all the buttons scattered on the floor, making you gasp in disbelief.

“Bucky! It was expensive.”

“Sorry, I’ll buy you whatever you want, I promise. But now I need to see you all.” He growled and fell to his knees before you. “Fuck, doll, such a pretty pussy. I’m gonna make a mess with her.”

Bucky’s hands grabbed both of your legs and threw them over his shoulders. He dragged your skirt higher, not wanting to take it off of you. His head fell on your right legs as he left a few kisses on your sensitive skin.

“Bucky please! Don’t tease me!” You desperately whined.

“I need a moment to appreciate both of you. I haven’t done it since the 40's, you know that?”

You wanted to say something, but his mouth on your most delicate part of your body left you speechless and made you grab his hair. Bucky’s tongue was gentle at first, just to get a taste of you and tease you a little bit. His tongue started to play with your clit, circling it and applying different pressures to find out what made your body twitch. It looked like he was enjoying it too; you felt deep grunts escaping his mouth as he was trying to catch every drop that came out of you.

Your loud moans filled the room as Bucky found the perfect place and made motions that made you see stars. A hand in his hair tightened even more when you felt one of his fingers at your entrance.

“M-hm, so wet and tight for me.” He pulled away a little bit, looking at how his two fingers came in and out of you, all shiny with your juices. His darkened eyes were firmly glued to your pussy, which was trying to get more, and his mouth opened a little bit at the sight. “Taking my fingers like a good girl.” Bucky attacked you with his mouth again. This time he was licking your folds, mixing his saliva with your juices. When the feeling of his nose touching your bundle of nerves came through your whole body, you gripped Bucky’s dark locks even harder, particularly trying to ride his face, and he had to put his metal hand on your hips so you wouldn’t move.

Your body tensed when he curled his fingers right on your g-spot, sucking your clit like a hungry man.

“Bucky—fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum, please don’t stop!” You whined with tears running down your face.

A few more movements of his magical mouth, and you fell over the edge. Your legs tightened around his head, tingles went all over your body, and the loudest moan mixed with Bucky’s name came out of you as you were riding on the wave of your orgasm.

Bucky didn’t stop, though.

He made sure to lick every drop that came out of you, to the point that you had to beg him to stop because you were too sensitive.

“That was—“ You were trying to catch a breath. “That was the best orgasm I've ever had, oh my god. If you did it for the first time in like seventy years, I can’t imagine what you can do with practice.”

Bucky dragged you up by your neck, so you would be at the same level with him. His hand moved your hips closer to the edge of the table, and you felt how hard he was through those jeans.

“I can practice whenever you’ll allow me, doll.” He put his warm hand on your face to kiss you. The taste of your own release on his tongue made you moan.

“Need you inside of me, please.” Your hands automatically started to pull up his shirt, but he stopped you.

“We don’t have to take it off if you don’t want to.”

You were silent for a few seconds. “Why wouldn’t I want to take your shirt off?”

“You know, my arm and scars...”

“Do you really think that I care about it?” You left a few kisses on his cheek. “I think that your arm is hot, by the way, and I want to feel your skin on mine, Sarge.” It was enough for Bucky to pull off his shirt and stay before you half-naked.

Your hands moved to trace every muscle, every birthmark, and every scar on his chest, and you felt that this moment was so intimate, especially because of Bucky’s stare. He looked at you with such adoration and softness that you wanted to melt.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He mumbled and kissed you with even more passion.

Bucky ripped off the rest of your shirt and quickly took off your matching black bra, gripping your breasts with both hands and taking your left nipple in his hot mouth.

You dug nails into Bucky’s back as he was sucking and licking your nipples, leaving them wet in the cold air. It felt good. So fucking good—his mouth was truly amazing. But the emptiness inside of you was almost painful, and you were clenching around nothing.

“Bucky! Sarge, please, I need you.” You almost cried and dragged his head by the hair back to your mouth.

“Baby, baby, wait– “ His hot breath was touching your lips, but he stopped your hands, which were unbuckling his belt. “Baby, I don’t have a condom. Fuck, do you have one?”

“We don’t have to use it... I’m on the pill. And I’m clean.” Your legs wrapped tighter around Bucky’s waist and put him closer to your naked core. He swore that he could feel your heat through his jeans and boxers.

“Fuck, I love twenty-first century... I’m clean too, can’t even catch a disease with this serum shit.”

His words were like a green light to you. You didn’t want to wait even a second more. So you just took off his pants with such speed and impatience that it made Bucky chuckle. With the last movement, all of his clothes were on the floor, and you sat on your table, frozen because of the sight before you.

Bucky’s thick and perfectly long dick was the best fucking thing that you’ve ever seen. Pink and a little bit curled to his abdomen. Your mouth watered just thinking about tasting it. Or how well he’ll stretch you out. You didn’t even notice how your mouth opened a little bit, and you unconsciously wrapped your hand around him.

“You’re gonna destroy me, Bucky.” You mumbled, to which you heard only a deep chuckle. Your eyes moved back to Bucky’s smiley face.

“I hope so.”

Two different hands landed on your thighs again, spreading and lifting them up. You both looked down at where his cock almost touched your bare folds, and the first contact made you moan loudly. Bucky took the base of his cock, giving himself a few pumps, and moved the tip up and down your pussy, moving easily because of the mixture of your juices.

You grabbed his forearm and whined at the action.

“Ready, doll?” He was trying to be tough and strong, but you saw how he nervously licked his lips, the tremble of his flesh hand, and the tension in his abdomen. But you still vigorously nodded.

It was different from everything you’ve ever experienced. He was big but tried to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to hurt you. He only pushed a few inches, but you already wanted to cry from all the feelings inside of you. Pain mixed with extreme pleasure.

Bucky was trying so hard to control his motions and go slow, but God, it wasn’t easy. From the first touch of his cock, it felt like he had gone to heaven. He knew that sex was good, he remembers it, but the feeling of you and your warm body that so gracefully greeted him inside made him feral. Bucky felt such a need to kiss you that it was almost painful, especially when your swollen lips were a few inches away from his.

He leaned in closer to your lips, but it made him slip deeper into you, which made you both loudly moan into each other's mouths.

“Fuck– doll, you’re so warm and tight, oh my god.” Bucky mumbled as the grip on your hips became harder. It’ll probably leave bruises, but you didn’t care.

The feeling of him inside of you was overwhelming. He was so deep and stretched you just the way that you wanted, and you almost cried from pleasure.

“Please, Bucky, please move!”

His hips slightly moved once, and it felt like his mood instantly changed. You were suddenly pushed back on your table, and your legs, still in heels, were thrown on Bucky’s shoulders. His metal hand stayed on your thigh, and the other one fell on your stomach to push your skirt higher on your waist.

“All dressed up for me, baby.” He started slowly moving, burying his cock deep inside, and then leaving only the tip to tease you. “You know how long I wanted to do that, huh? Bend you over and just fuck the shit out of you until you can’t say anything except for my name.”

“Bucky– Sarge, please go faster. Just fuck me, do whatever you want.” You were desperate, yes. But you couldn't help but beg, because you really needed him to keep his promise and fuck the shit out of you.

You reached for his hand on your stomach and interlaced your fingers together.

“If you keep calling me that, I won’t last too long, doll.” His thrusts became harder and faster as your body moved up and down on your table.

Bucky was looking at your drunk-looking face with a slightly open mouth because you couldn’t keep your moans quiet. Your hair was deshiveled, your skin glimmered with sweat, and it was the hottest thing he had ever seen.

“So beautiful, baby.” Bucky murmured, fucking you harder. The room was filled with loud noises from slapping skin and moans. “You love it when I talk to you like that, huh? Want me to tell you what a good girl you are?” His words definitely did something to you, and you unconsciously tightened around him. “Almost choking my cock, baby, fu-u-ck.”

“Mhm, Sargent, I’m so full of you.” You couldn’t see straight as the tip of his head pressed at the perfect spot with every thrust, it was too much and not enough at the same time.

The wet kisses on the inner side of your thigh sent shivers down your whole body when Bucky started to suck tender skin. His rough movement didn’t stop for a moment, and you knew that your orgasm was getting closer. The warm feeling in your belly slowly became bigger. It was hard for you to cum from sex, but Bucky did it so fast and without even touching your clit.

“C’mon, doll face. I feel ‘ya. Feel how your perfect little pussy is squeezing me. Cum with me, baby, cum on my cock.” His movements were still rough and confident, but you felt the slightest change in the way he was looking at you, how his body trembled a little bit, and the prettiest quiet noises escaped his mouth as Bucky was coming to his own end.

You were completely lost in your pleasure, with strong arms on your body and Bucky’s hard cock that was completely destroying you, so when fingers on your clit started to move in circles, your body slightly jolted up from your table.

“Bucky, Bucky, please—ohmygod, I’m coming!” You cried out loud and grabbed the hard wood under your arms.

“O-oh, fuck, doll, cum with me, please. Yes, squeeze my cock harder, make a mess. ‘M gonna cum.” With the last few pushes of his dick inside of you and movements of the fingers, you both fell from your heights, and the room filled with loud moans of pleasure. The feeling of his hot seed on your walls almost made you faint.

Bucky fell down on your body as your leg slipped from his shoulder. Two strong arms wrapped around you, and Bucky’s face nuzzled into your neck. You don’t know how long you two stayed silent, trying to catch a breath, while your hands gently rubbed Bucky’s back.

When he finally lifted himself up with a metal arm near your face on the table, the look in his eyes sent millions of butterflies to your stomach.

“I don’t even know what to say…” He chuckled and cupped your face with his right hand. “You look so fucking beautiful, Y/N.”

“Even when my makeup, my hair, and my clothes are completely destroyed?” You playfully arched an eyebrow and enjoyed the feeling of his fingers on your hot skin.

“Well, I did it, and I’m satisfied with it. You still look so hot, especially with my dick still inside of you.”

“Bucky!”

“Sorry, sorry. But I’m serious, though. Will you let me take you on a date? Maybe yesterday for lunch or for dinner after work?” His eyes had this little bit of doubt, and you couldn’t stop your wide smile because he was really thinking that you would say “no” after that.

“I will be glad to go out with you, Buck.” You dragged his face closer and gave him the sweetest kiss you could.

Bucky moved away, gently slipping out of you, and you hissed at the empty feeling. He helped you stand up on your shaking legs and handed you your clothes.

“Fuck, you completely destroyed my clothes.” You said as you were standing in front of the mirror. “How will I go home?”

“You can stay in my room.” Bucky came closer to you and helped you make your blouse look more presentable, even without buttons.

“Really?”

“Of course, doll. Just hold your shirt in case we bump into someone in the corridor, but I think everyone is already in their rooms.” Bucky finished dressing up, and you saw your underwear sticking out of his pocket.

“Don’t you want to give me my panties?”

“Na-ah, you’ll have to walk with me dripping out of you.” He gave you a cocky smile and turned all the lights off before wrapping his arm around you and leading you into the hall.

It was completely empty, but the second that you stepped out of the elevator, you saw Bucky’s best friends looking at you. All of you were looking at each other for a few seconds before Sam started hysterically laughing.

“You owe me fifty bucks, idiot!” He said to Steve, who was as red as a tomato. “Good job, Buckaroo, but I really thought that we were gonna ask her on a date first.”

“Fuck off, Willson.” Bucky growled, protectively stepping forward to protect you from their looks.

“Okay, okay, relax, no one’s touching your girl.” He said with a cocky smile on his face. “Let’s go, Steve. You’re too innocent to look at things like this.” Sam took his friend and led him in another direction.

“Asshole.” Bucky growled.

“Everything is okay, Buck, let’s go.” You stepped closer to his room, but he was still standing in his place. “I have to take a shower. Will you come with me, or will you stand here the whole night?” You smirked.

It was everything he needed to finally get closer to you, scoop you into his arms, and carry you into his room to the sound of laughter, which soon turned into moans.

[nightingale-prompts]

Batboy admits the Truth

First | Previous | Next

(Remember when this was cute and fun)

It was a tense reunion. Batman sensed it and left Nightwing to handle it.

Nightwing was of course not happy. He was downright pissed actually.

"Danny Nightingale-Grayson! Running away again?! After last time?!" Dick was about to go on a long lecture when Danny interrupted.

"I'm sorry."

"You should be sorry! I was so worried!" Dick scowled as he tried to calm down.

"I know. I was just scared. You deserve an answer. A good one. I've never had to explain all of this so please just listen." Danny hoped that this was a good idea.

Dick huffed but this was the start that he wanted.

"I'm dead. Undead at least." Danny began.

"What do you mean? Like a zombie or…like Jason?" Dick asked.

"I don't really know. Jason is like me but I'm not like him. I'm more dead than him I guess." Danny didn't know how to nail that down, revenants are their own things. Several rungs down from where Danny was.

"And how did that happen?" Dick asked gently.

"It was an accident. I was just cleaning my family's lab. The portal wasn't working and I just wanted to take a look. I thought if it finally worked they would spend more time with us. But it turned on with me in it. I didn't learn until recently that a portal to the other side required a sacrifice and that was me. I made for a perfect sacrifice at that, children make for best ones." Danny tried to make a joke but it fell flat.

Dick saw stunned into silence. All this time…Danny you-" Dick was appalled that the same people who hated him for who he was were the same people whose negligence that caused him to be this way.

"Its fine though. They didn't mean for this to happen and I should have known better then to mess with the portal." Danny said defensively.

Despite everything he still cared about his parents at least a little bit.

"That is not fine Danny. You aren't fine Danny. They made you feel like you were not human." Dick said exasperated.

Danny shook his head his face contorted.

"Dick…I'm not human." He said simply. It was plain as day "I thought you understood that. I haven't been just human in a long time. When I had wings did you believe I was human?"

"That is not what I meant. You know that. I just-"Dick didn't know what he was doing. "I'm sorry. Continue."

"I got to play hero for a while. It was exhausting but I liked it. I defended the town from all sorts of ghosts. Then i learned why they were running from their home. All the while a monster like me appeared and he…" Dark Danny's memories flooded his mind. He wasn't a ghost or a human in Danny's mind. Monster was the only thought that came to him.

Dan had haunted him since. He would always be a version of Danny that's possible even if the Nasty Burger incident doesn't happen. All it takes is for Danny to suffer another loss. It almost happened again when his parents caught him.

"I learned a lot from that experience. More then that I earned a title that made me important to the other ghosts. They are actually really cool. But when I got home my parents told me that their real son was dead and I was just a ghost in his body. They called me a murderous monster and then they…cut me open." Danny took a deep breath. His throat felt tight as he held back tears. "I…ran. I escaped and lived with the ghosts."

Danny still remembered sobbing into Clockwork's arms while covered in blood.

"I saw a potential future where this happens but I had hoped it would not come to pass." He said holding Danny in his arms.

The problem with ghosts is while they can heal quickly they are damaged by mental pain far more. Danny healed slowly from his wounds and the scars remained.

Clockwork had taught Danny shifting to help improve the boy's mental flexibility and get heal in a better head space. He knew he had to ask Nocturne to take Danny's mind and spare him from further pain when he was kidnapped. Perhaps it was foolish but the event was going to happen regardless.

Dick took in this information as best as he could but it still made him irate. Danny had been through so much but he never let that mask slip until now. He still chose Dick to be his guardian even while he battled his fears of abandonment. Even after being betrayed by people he only wanted to love him.

Dick put a hand on Danny's cheek. The teen looked at him with the pain of a child left all alone. Danny, touched starved, leaned into Dick's hand.

"Danny, I'm so sorry they did that to you. You deserve so much better. I don't care what you are, you're my son." Dick said softly.

Danny's face twisted.

Son.

He wasn't fond of that word. Bring someone's son never meant much. No, when he had a sister who filled the role of his caretaker. Danny never needed a mom or dad before so the words felt hollow, like placeholders.

But Danny didn't say anything. He just wanted this internal fight to be over.

"Can we just go home?" Danny sighed.

"Yeah, sure kiddo." Dick reassured, "Do you want to go to Batburger on the way?"

"Yeah, can I get jokerized fries?" Danny immediately perked up at the sound of his favorite fast food.

"I think they don't sell those anymore." Dick tried to sound casual because no one had actually told Danny that the Joker was dead just missing.

Well everyone believed that he was missing. It was best not to tell the public that the one of the Bats actually committed murder. Thankfully no one is going to care if Joker doesn't commit another crime spree and won't ask too many questions. Honestly, Duke and Jason are having a fantastic time.

"Really? Why?" Danny asked tilting his head kind of like a puppy.

"….no idea." He shrugged.

(Now back to the regularly scheduled fluff, i swear.)

[a-simple-imagine]

Perfectly Pathetic

synopsis: when you take an interest in the new girl, regina takes an interest in you

pairing: regina george x plastics!fem!reader

words: 4.6k+

A/N - in the nicest of ways, please DO NOT read this if you don't want to read about toxic relationships. you have been warned. I don't want a repeat of last time. also we need more fics where regina is actually mean so

WARNINGS - swearing, alcohol use, general toxicity, toxic relationships and bullying/vague reference to weight

Buy me a ko-fi

the clash of plastic trays and idle chatter brought alive the fragile student body of North Shore High School. on the outside this may seem like any other lunch room but inside it was a carefully crafted game of chess. every move was calculated. each person has their place and if you stray too far you're at risk. you're sat next to Gretchen Weiners. known for big hair and keeping secrets, she knows everything about everyone. opposite her is Karen Shetty. she... tries her best and looks adorable doing it. a ray of sunshine if you get to know her. and before you sits the most beautiful woman you have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Regina George. effortlessly perfect but needlessly cruel. she was the most popular person in school and one of your best friends.

perfectly manicured nails stab into the skin of your cheek as your head is yanked in her direction. razor-sharp eyes stare back. "are you even listening?" the answer was no but you didn't want to say that. "what are you staring at?"

a flash of blonde as she looks behind her. you push against her grip to look too. across the room sat Janis 'imi'ike and Damian Hubbard. you hardly ever spoke to them but you were lab partners with Damian. he was funny. today, however, there was a new addition with strawberry blonde hair, a blue checkered shirt and brown pants. you knew everyone at this school to some degree. a curse of popularity. but you had never seen her before. "seems they've got themselves a new friend"

"who cares," her nails dig a little deeper drawing a pained expression as she pulls your head back to face her. She holds your gaze for a moment. a silent challenge. before fingertips glide across your cheek and she goes back to leading the conversation across the table. you pick at the food on the tray with a fork but you can't help but be intrigued. North Shore was boring and predictable. a direct result of being under Regina's control. but this girl was new and you couldn't help but be drawn to that. to the unknown. to the possibility. three pairs of eyes as you push up from the table and march across the room.

"I haven't seen you around here before." was all you could think to say as you approached the end of the table. Janis and Damian share a look before settling on... confusion. You weren't ever particularly mean to others but you were guilty by association. people mess with you. they mess with Regina.

"oh," by the look on her face, she already knew who you were or at the very least your friends. "it's my first day."

"Where did you transfer from?"

"uh... Kenya," she seems unsure. you put it down to nerves.

"you sure about that?" a curious raise of your brow. "'cause you don't sound-"

"we're leaving" stated firmly as three girls breeze past. the blonde leads the way. the other two are just a step behind.

"so what made you move all the way here from Kenya?"

"my mom got a new job."

"couldn't find one-"

the sound of your name echoes through the room bringing the world to a stop. a weird silence settles over the room. "come. now." growled through gritted teeth and paired with snapping fingers. you were being summoned like a naughty dog ignoring their owner. a sigh as all eyes fall to you. waiting to see what you'd do but make no mistake, they already knew the answer.

"I'll see you around." a flash of a smile before you scamper after Regina.

"so your ears do work." is all the girl says as she shoves you through the door. you bite back any comment because that was how this worked. you may be top of the food chain to everyone else but Regina led the pack.

as the final bell for the day rings, you're shoving things in your locker when you spot the new girl. she seems to be struggling to even open it. you watch her for a moment. a smirk settling. this was another chance to talk and this time Regina couldn't demand your presence. "need some help?" it seemed to take her by surprise as a handful of papers drifted to the floor. a small chuckle, you reach down to collect her work and hand it back. "how's your first day going?"

she shrugs, taking the papers. "it's alright."

"anyone giving you any trouble?" you ask, falling to lean against the lockers. people around here were not nice and took every chance to show it. some more than others. She shakes her head. "you sure? if anyone does anything, I can sort them out." you give her a knowing look and she offers a sort of amused smile. "so you do know how to smile, it's cute. are you gonna tell me your name or am I gonna have to guess?"

"it's cady. Cady heron."

"well, cady heron. the trick to these," you tap her locker door with your knuckle. "is to push in and pull up before trying to open it. annoying, I know but they're old." you watch her try again and this time it swings open. "see."

"Thanks." you linger as they shove some of their stuff inside. you notice a few stray stickers on the locker opposite.

"no problem." you push up from the metal. "I can show you all types of tricks to get through this hellscape if you want?" she shuts her locker and you both start walking towards the exit. "number one tip, avoid Regina."

"Isn't she your friend?"

"yeah," you nod. "that's why I said it. She can be... a lot. surely Janis told you that."

Cady looks at you for a long moment. "something like that." you let out a chuckle. Janis probably told her what a massive bitch Regina was. they had a less than favourable history.

"I should go. I'll see you around Cady Heron." as you both go your separate ways, you can't help but glance at her as she walks away.

having a study period just before lunch was both an absolutely ridiculous idea and the best thing to happen to your schedule. it basically guaranteed you didn't do any work whatsoever and felt more like a two-hour lunch period. seems you shared it with the new girl because she was sitting at a table scribbling in a book alongside Janis who was doing her normal embroidery or whatever.

"if it isn't Cady Heron," you comment, taking a seat on the bench. her face brightens at the sight.

"where's the rest of the coven?" Janis asks, not even bothering to look up from her work. "wait- don't tell me, a house fell on them."

"you're so funny Janis," an exaggerated sarcastic laugh.

"I think I can hear children singing... ding... dong the witch-"

"So Cady, how are you enjoying north shore?" you interrupt loudly and the 'song' trails off.

"It's fine."

"you don't talk much huh?"

her mouth opens but falls silent as Gretchen approaches the end of the table. she shoots you a less than favourable look. your brow furrows a little.

"Can I talk to you," pitch a little too high to say no.

"Sure," a shrug. you look at her for a long moment waiting for her to continue.

"in private," Gretchen urges. with a roll of your eyes, you stand up. flashing a smile at Cady, Gretchen grabs your hand and drags you away before you can say anything.

"what are you doing?" whisper yelled at you.

"I was just talking." god this girl was dramatic. you take your usual spot. she sits opposite.

"to the art freaks?"

"dude, it's fine."

"no it's not." she urges quickly, shaking her head "You know how Regina gets."

"Regina isn't here?" and she wouldn't be until lunch. only you and Gretchen share this free period. usually, you spend it listening to her gossip about people. she could not keep a secret to save her life at least not when it came to anyone outside of you and your friends; even then it's dicey. fun for you though.

"All I'm saying is you need to be careful,"

"don't worry. I was only interested in the new girl."

"that's worse," you just roll your eyes. "Regina doesn't like her."

"Regina doesn't even know her," you argue. "none of us do. she's been here like a week."

Gretchen thinks the idea of even wanting to talk to Cady is blasphemy. that it's better to avoid her but you think she's overreacting. Cady hadn't established herself at this school yet. right now she is with Janis but tomorrow who knows? she could be cool. it's a matter of perspective.

a pretty perfect smile does little to distract from playful eyes as you approach her jeep. the blonde is in the driver's seat. one hand rested over the steering wheel. the other typing something on her phone. She had sent a message telling you to hurry up but on arrival, neither Karen nor Gretchen were even here yet. you toss your bag in the back, climbing into your usual spot behind the driver's seat. Karen is usually next to you. "sit in the front, weirdo," she comments. you don't bother with a comeback, just moving to the front passenger seat.

"Where are the others?" you ask, glancing at her. the soft glow of the afternoon sun kissed her skin beautifully. black shades hang on the end of her nose. She really was something to be admired. Regina shrugs and then tosses her phone down. the car roars to life and you're starting down the road before you can think any more about it. it's pretty silent at first. the sound of the radio filling the space. the lack of your two other friends acting as a buffer was sitting weirdly. this wasn't your first time alone with Regina but she's been so grumpy lately. whatever you say feels like an invitation.

"so you like the new girl?" asked casually as she came to an abrupt stop at a red light. you just forward, the seatbelt digging into your neck. it drags up a quick cough but that could also be from surprise. other than that first interaction where she'd summoned you from across the room, you had never spoken to Cady when she was around. Gretchen may be dramatic but she probably wasn't wrong and you really didn't feel like risking it.

"Sorry?" feign confusion was... a choice but it seemed like the better option here.

"you like the new girl," repeated calmly; her eyes drift to you as yours move towards the traffic light. was this the longest red light in history? "right?"

now it's your turn to shrug. you find Cady intriguing but you're not entirely sure if it's interested in the way Regina is implying or just because you were so bored of the every day. "she's cool." a scoff as she pulls away continuing down the road. "you've hardly spoken to her."

"don't need to," Regina didn't miss a beat. Cady definitely didn't fit into what she'd consider cool but then again, neither had you. not entirely anyway and now you're here. you hang out with the most popular people in school. went to the hottest parties. you were currently being driven around by the Regina George. you never understood why or maybe you did and just refused to accept it was that simple. you know what everyone else says. that it's because of the attention you show her. you wouldn't necessarily say they're wrong but everyone gave her attention. She did always say there was something special about you. "I thought you at least had standards."

the rest of the car ride is silent as you think over what she said and Regina keeps to herself. the music is the only thing, keeping you sane until you pull up at the George residence. you always forget just how big her house is until you're there. As you walk inside, her mum appears abruptly startling you a little.

"hey, ms. George."

"hey girls," she singsonged. "how was school?"

"fine," Regina shoots back.

"well if you need anything? a drink? some snacks? advice? I'm here,"

"I'd actually love an iced-"

"we're good," growled as she grabbed your wrist hauling you up the stairs. "don't bother us." a confused look but she didn't let go until you were firmly inside her bedroom. door slammed shut. the blonde tosses her bag down.

"you should really be nicer to your mom, she adores you," you say idly taking a seat on the end of her bed, placing your bag down.

"you should shut up because it's none of your fucking business."

jesus christ. you kinda regret the decision to come over. "I just wanted an iced tea. maybe a little snack."

"god knows you don't need it," Regina comments. wow. okay. she was in a mood.

"what's up with you?"

"I'm fine," she responds. "you're just being so fucking annoying recently."

"I haven't done anything?" you've not been acting any differently so you have no clue what she's talking about.

"just absolutely drooling over the new girl. it's embarrassing." she declares, taking a seat on the bed.

"I..." you stop yourself because you're more confused than anything else. "we've spoken like once."

"liar" she responds. "I know you've been talking all the time," fucking Gretchen. "do you think she's pretty?"

"Cady?" Regina nods. you shrug. "I guess."

"prettier than me?" her head tilts. you can't tell if she was jealous or fishing for compliments; neither was her style. so it was probably a trap.

"no." you wanna say she's being dramatic but that wouldn't end well. She doesn't say anything, hardly even reacts. just cold eyes. Is she expecting you to say more? "of course not." you're waiting for the ball to drop. for her to make a snide comment or something. anything was better than nothing. but it just never comes. she takes out her phone and starts typing. you fall back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. you both just sit in the quiet. you're worried about saying anything that'll lead to more insults. god knows what she is doing on her phone.

"you're so pathetic." Regina eventually says. you'd take offence if you weren't used to it; basically a term of endearment at this point. you can hear her moving but don't bother looking until she's towering over you. dark eyes and a small smile that would seem genuine coming from anyone else. a hand cups your cheek but no nails follow; it's gentle and slow as she runs her thumb over your skin. what was happening right now? "do you ever think about me?" you blink a few times trying to make sense of everything. why was she being so nice? why was she being so gentle? why did she ask that?

"what do you mean?"

a roll of her pretty eyes. "you know what I mean." you did but surely not.

"I... don't know what to say."

"Because I think about you," your breathing hitches as you sit up. looking at her properly. "those pretty eyes," she moves closer. "these lips," her thumb runs over your bottom lip. you swallow hard. "do you wanna kiss me?" you just stare back. a smirk as she ghosts your lips.

"say you wanna kiss me." this felt cruel. you lean in and she pulls back slightly. a finger pressed against your lips. her expression is colder now. sharp. "say it."

"I... wanna kiss you," you dare and that smirk quickly returns. removing her finger, Regina leans in and connects your lips. it's soft and slow. not at all like you imagined kissing Regina George would feel like... until the girl pushes into you and it's exactly like you imagined. fast. forceful. like she wanted to devour you. A hand pushes you back against her massive bed and she moves to straddle your hips. your heart is beating so loudly you wouldn't be surprised if she could hear it.

"still thinking about the new girl?"

"I never-" You feel her press a little harder against your chest so you change your answer. "no." Regina tosses her hair over one shoulder, and a finger under your chin pushes your head up.

"I don't think you should talk to her anymore," Regina states before leaning down to connect your lips once more. "understood?"

you're too caught up in the moment to really gauge how serious she was being so you nod. "good girl." whispered against your lips.

Regina George had always been a lot. She always demanded attention and you often gave her it. you weren't ashamed of that. She knew you'd do anything for her. As did most of the school.

"Hey," Cady suddenly appears beside you in the hallway. she seems a lot more relaxed around you which was nice to see. however, you have not spoken to them since that weird night with Regina. She wouldn't like it. plus Gretchen would probably snitch on you immediately. "so we should probably figure out a time to work on our project." you've been paired up for an assignment in American literature.

"We can do it today after school if you want?" she nods. "I'll meet you out front."

"hey Cady," Karen slides up beside you on the other side, instantly looping your arms. ever the pleasant company. you wonder if she just wanted to see you or get you away from Cady. probably the former.

"I'll see you later," you say to the new girl before turning to your friend. "what do you want?"

"you're coming to Connor's party Saturday?"

"Obviously,"

"I have the perfect-"

"no," you respond instantly. you loved Karen. she was genuinely the sweetest person you know. but at every party, she tries to give you a Karen Shetty special aka a makeover. and every single time you have to say no.

"but I have the perfect outfit for you."

"is it actually perfect for me or just slutty."

"Both," Karen states excitedly. "please," pleading eyes as she draws you closer, hugging your arm. "please please please."

a loud groan. "fine."

"Really?" her eyes light up and circulation quickly returns to your arm. you nod at her which leads to excited clapping. maybe it wouldn't be so bad. maybe it was the perfect outfit for you but also sexy enough to satisfy Karen.

"oh here," you reach into your bag and produce a homemade friendship bracelet. you'd been tutoring some younger students for extra credit but sometimes you just hung out with them. "made them with some of the kids so,"

"ah thank you," she takes it eagerly. you had one for Gretchen and Regina too. only one of them would appreciate it though.

"why were you chatting with Cady?" Karen asks, sliding on her bracelet as she takes your arm once more.

"we're doing a project together," you explain. "you were literally just in class with us Karen."

"oh yeah," she smiles brightly. "I'm starving." you chuckle a little and allow her to eagerly pull you towards the dining room.

you're sitting on the grass. Cady is talking in your ear as you stare into the distance. most students had gone home already. The rest were working on homework or projects or extracurricular activities. you arranged this meeting but god were you bored. no offence to Cady but you kinda wish you'd been paired with Karen so you could be fucking about right now and then rush the work the night before it's due.

"are you going to the party Saturday?" you ask idly.

"What party?"

"oh shit." you forgot she was hanging out with Janis and Damian who definitely wouldn't have been invited. "connor mckay is having a party. The dudes a mess, big house though. you should come,"

"don't think I was invited,"

"I'm inviting you."

"not sure that's how it works."

"Just come Cady," you insist. "you can bring Janis and Damian too if you want. everyone will be too fucked to notice."

"uh, thanks then" she smiles a little, glancing back at her textbook. "I'll think about it."

"you have to think about attending your first high school party?" you question. laying down on your back. "I'll be there," you turn your head to look at them. "it'll be fun." you watch her carefully and soon she smiles.

"Okay, yeah."

"well that was easy," should have just started by stating you'll be there. "Be careful, Cady." you tease, looking back to clouds passing by but you can't help but smirk a little. "I'll start thinking you like me."

sat in the back of Regina's jeep as she fixes her hair in the overhead mirror, Karen inspects your face while Gretchen is copying Regina by fixing her hair. "can we just go in," you insist, slapping Karen's hands away. "before I regret coming."

"Why would you regret coming?" Gretchen questions, looking around at you.

"I feel stupid,"

"you look amazing," Karen urges. "perfect."

"you would say that."

"stop whining," Regina insists. flipping up her mirror. "you look hot. now let's go."

finally. "I'm gonna get so fucked up," you state as you step out of the car. walking beside Regina with Gretchen and Karen a step behind. the party is already alive. started at six. It was eight.

you reach the point in every party where you just don't want to be there anymore pretty quickly tonight. you're suddenly so aware of how annoying everyone is. sat on the kitchen counter, you swing your legs back and forth as you sip whatever was in your cup. Gretchen gave it to you. the party passes around you like you're not even there until an all too familiar blonde appears. "you look sad," you'd mistake that for genuine concern if it wasn't Regina "Already at sad drunk, that's impressive."

"what do you want Regina?" she had basically ignored you since you arrived so why she suddenly thought you were worthy of her presence, you'll never know. Shane was the object of her disgustingly public displays of affection tonight. "thought you'd be too busy with Shane."

"god, you're so obsessed with Shane," a roll of her eyes as she takes the cup from your hand to help herself. you watch her as the red cup comes to painted lips. not a hair out of place. so perfect. Regina was perfect. it was annoying

"I invited Cady tonight," you state, snatching your cup back.

"ew. why? I thought we agreed you weren't going near Cady anymore," technically you did. practically it wasn't that deep. who cares.

"And Janis and Damian but mostly to get Cady here,"

"desperate to hang out with losers," Regina sighs. "is she here?"

you shrug. "too many people. too big a house. I haven't looked, to be honest."

"Well," a hand finds its way to your thigh, running up and then down softly. "if you're good tonight maybe I'll give you a little treat."

"don't," you push her hand away. "go back to your boyfriend."

"he's not my boyfriend,"

"well whatever he is," you jump down off the countertop. "you made it very clear that I'm not what you want."

"you're so dramatic," she pushes up too. "I hate when you get drunk."

"Whatever."

"fuck sake," Regina responds. "you act like I said we're together or something."

"you're such an asshole," you huff. "I'm gonna find Cady."

"good luck with that,"

there are so many people at this party. you're not sure who half of them even are but they all seem to know you as you stumble around after the new girl. a constant barrage of 'hellos' and 'you look hot' in various forms. it's tiring. annoying. and you're about to give up and go find Gretchen so she can rub your back to make you feel better when you spot her. She was looking as awkward as ever. "you came." shouted over the thump of the music

"yeah," her face lit up. "Damian too. Janis said she'd rather jump off a bridge than come so..."

"That sounds... exactly like her," you nod. "I like..." you glance at her outfit. Regina would hate it. you don't love it. "your outfit. very school teacher chic."

"Thanks," she replies. "I didn't have anything to wear so,"

"it's cool. I'm just happy someone here isn't gonna irritate me- do you want a drink?"

"Sure," she nods. "do they have juice?"

"uh... probably somewhere." who asks for juice at a party? "I'll check. stay here."

you wander off back to the kitchen in search of some juice. your first stop is the fridge which is very stocked. you briefly scan for anything open, sweet and edible before just grabbing a carton of fresh orange and deciding that will do. pouring her a glass before heading back. she's still in the same spot only a particular blonde in the tightest little black dress has decided to strike up a conversation. you immediately know something is wrong. Regina can't stand Cady. it's why you told her you admitted to inviting her so easily. You wanted to piss her off. you can't make out what is happening but as you make your approach the redhead leaves. Regina turns to you with a sugary sweet smile betrayed by her eyes. "hey baby girl, feeling any better?"

"What did you say to her?"

"why do you have a glass of" brow knitted as she tapped her nail against the glass. "orange juice?"

"What did you say to her?"

"who?" you let her have the glass and she takes a sip. a visible look of disgust. "is there anything in this?"

"It's just fresh orange,"

"what the fuck? are you trying to sober up or what?"

"it was for Cady," you explain. "what did you say?"

the blonde shrugs. "she just had to go. not my fault." you don't believe her. why would you? She has a track record of being a conniving person who'll make trouble just for the sake of it. it'd be naive to think she didn't do anything."

"Why do you have to be such a fucking bitch all of the time," you grumble loudly. a hand snaps around your wrist and suddenly you're yanked closer to her. hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

"I let you off before because you were all sad and tragic but don't think you can ever talk to me like that," growled in your ear before she abruptly shoved you away. "Cady left. get over it."

"she only left because you said something,"

"she left because she realised you don't like her," the blonde snapped. such a pretty poison came in the form of Regina George as she turned her gaze on you. She was pissed but kept it quietly contained to just beneath the music so nobody else had a clue. "that you've just been stringing her along. pretending to be her friend. all because I wasn't showing you enough attention," she's close again. too close. she wasn't physically that tall but right she seemed massive as she loomed over you. her eyes flicker to your lips and back up. did she wanna kiss you or kill you? neither seemed smart. "she realised that you belong to me."

"I'm not a dog Regina."

"you sure about that," a mean glint in those pretty eyes. "you wanted my attention. you got it." she shoves the orange juice back in your hand. it's contents splashing your hand. "don't cry about it now." and with that she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd

// NEXT

[tangerinesilk]

－ DISTRACTION : DAVE LIZEWSKI

dave was a great study buddy, but there's no doubt he was a distraction. he constantly made you turn your head twice at whatever he said or did whether it was some comic book character he rambled about or how his pale blue eyes shined under the warm lighting of his desk lamp.

pairing ✷ college!dave lizewski x college!fem!reader

rating ✷ r (18+ minors dni!)

tropes ✷ friends with benefits, spicy but no / little plot, unspoken love, domestic toward eachother but no dating, dorky and awkward people in love who just wont admit it theyre in love (sort of) | nsfw warnings below!

word count ✷ 1.7k

a/n ✷ um this was a random thought and it just sort of happened. stg it feels like i blacked out while writing this KSKFFKS what is going on with me. anyways been wanting to write about this cute dork for a while and why not make it really hot. posting now so i dont chicken out but ill edit later.... i always love feedback! xo

[ steamy warnings: mentions of public sex, dom & sub switches, p in v without protection, nipple play, hj + bj, f receiving oral from m, praising + heavy dirty talk, face sitting, finishing inside v ]

typical weekends: saturday night at dave's apartment.

dave was explaining something... it was something. something important, but all you could focus on was his pretty eyes and how soft his lips looked today. he pushed his glasses up more on his nose bridge again, looking down at his book for one of his college classes.

he was so into the subject, you didn't even have to nod. you were occasionally tapping the eraser end of your pencil against your blank notebook, only listening to every other word.

suddenly, your mind wanders to when you two were doing laundry at three in the morning and got a little spontaneous. then getting a bit handsy on the top floor of the library where no one usually was. maybe even the time when you were visiting him back home for one weekend and you both could barely keep it together with company downstairs.

ever since you both agreed on this friends with benefits agreement, your dry spells were no longer an issue. it seemed like both of you were touched starved, but not wanting to meet other people, strangers you didnt want or need to know.

so, after becoming lab partners in your fall semester of senior year, its been nonstop seeing each other. not just for sex, but hanging out to study, going to local comic book stores and libraries, even the occasional dinner and sleepover combo at his apartment or yours.

it seemed like a wild card at first, but you would never admit (outloud) to dave lizewski that you underestimated how great his tongue felt inside your pus—

"y/n, are you even listening?"

you cleared your throat, "hmm?"

he chuckled, "so you weren't... i know, its kind of boring."

now you felt bad, caught up from going down memory lane and he was excited about his new class.

you ran your hand over his curls, "im sorry, dave. my mind was wandering."

he turned, seeming interested, "about what?"

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, "about... you know..." you trailed then shrugged, "stuff."

dave smiled, "oh yeah? you weren't, i dont know, thinking about me?"

you had seen this confidence grow inside dave as more time passed, and you weren't sure if it was cockiness, but you couldn't deny how cute yet attractive it was on him.

"why dont you go back to what you were rambling about? please. im all ears now." you lean in, placing your hands underneath your chin with your elbows on his desk.

its ironic how his full size bed was behind the two of you yet here you are, acting like this was the first time you've hung out.

he pressed wet kisses against your inner thighs, your clit aching for his mouth as his nose brushed against your skin. he'd let out a nervous chuckle as he noticed the wet spot forming on the center of your panties. you'd bite your bottom lip as he licked his lips, in awe of the mess you were for him.

dave pulled down your panties, shuffling them down your ankles before tossing them to the side. his strong hands run up the top of your thighs before holding your hips, pulling your core closing to his mouth. after his first, yet hesitant, kiss on your clit, you let out a faint moan.

soon his tongue was running over your open slit and tasting your sweet wetness. you arched your back, leaning back on his desk as he flicked your clit a few times. when he pushes his tongue inside you, a rush of heat runs over your entire body. you caress your own breasts and pull at your own nipples as he picks up his pace.

"fuck... god, yes. eat my fucking pussy." you whimpered. he got so weak when you uttered your sweet nothings. as dominant as he thought he presented himself, dave was a sucker for you.

just when you thought it couldn't get better, he slide his two fingers into your slit as his tongue flicks your swollen clit. you told him how you love when he curled his fingers inside you, knuckle deep and gathering your wetness every pump as he brought you closer to your orgasm.

your hips grind against his mouth and hand, painfully near your climax. he cursed under his breath as he felt your pussy clench around his digits. he pulls his mouth away from your clit, trailing more kisses over your stomach then rolls his tongue against your right nipple.

his hand still worked your slit, thrusting so fast that your head was spinning along with the pleasure of him sucking your erect nipple. you glanced down, seeing how his hard pressed against his khakis. just the thought of taking his cock into your mouth made you dizzy, bucking your hips against his fingers.

"yes... make me cum. i wanna fucking cum on your fingers." you muttered under your breath, pulling at his curls. dave's knees were giving out as he held his position but he loved to hear your continous begging.

he was about to see if he could pick up his pace before your hand reached down, sliding into the front of his stained pants and caressing his hard cock. he grunted against your chest, instantly weak from your touch which made him pause.

"hmm, what about i cum on your cock instead?" you giggled as your lips met his, "it's so hard... bet you've been thinking about cumming inside my tight pussy, huh, dave?"

he sighed, "shit..."

"that's what i thought, baby." you say before taking his fingers into your mouth, tasting your own cum. he takes a mental picture even though you've done this in your previous hookups.

you hop off the desk, playfully pushing him on his twin size bed. you slowly get on your knees, running your hand over the crotch of his pants that were already unbuttoned and half unzipped. it's easy for your pull his cock out, practically springing from his briefs.

his eyes are glued to you as your tongue runs up and down the base before wrapping your lips against his red tip. you half-giggle when you taste his pre-cum, then carefully take him all in your mouth. you gag a bit as his tip pushes further in, and he groans when your throat tightens around him.

you push your tongue out to make sure your teeth dont graze his cock as you deep throat him, incredibly slow, so he can watch in awe. he leans up on his elbows, falling apart as you take him in your mouth so easily and your hand pumping the rest of his base.

"fucking christ... fuck." he muttered, his dick twitching inside your mouth as your salvia runs down when you gag on his hard.

his hand runs over your hair, gathering it together to keep it out of your face— also to have a better view of him receiving one of the best blowjobs you've given him.

when you pull your mouth away, you giggle as you pump his cock with your spit lubricating for better motion. his face screws together the faster you pump, and he can barely take the pleasure.

"hmm, i bet you wanna cum on my face... and tits. but, i want you to cum inside me." you say as you but your bottom lip, running your thumb over the cum leaking from his tip.

"me too, baby. fuck!" he grunts, and it makes you smile at how much of a mess he is too.

you rise from your knees, relieving the pressure on them before straddling him on his bed. you pull off your top, tossing it on the other side of the room as he quickly peels his shirt off as well. his big hands run up your body, over your breasts once more as his thumbs move against your nipples.

"god, i want to feel every inch of your cock... so, don't stop until you're finished." you tell him as you run his tip agaisnt your slit before slowly sinking down on him.

"babe, shit... fuck." he whimpered, his fingers pressing into your hips as you arch your back.

"god, im so tight." you moan, "your cock is so big... can barely fit you inside me." you huff, your eyes closed shut as you slowly move your hips.

soon, you meet a nice pace of bouncing on his cock and he loosens up as he watches you move up and down. his bright eyes keep moving between looking at your tits and your face, completely amazed by your beauty.

you run your hands over his toned chest and abdomen, leaving light scratches on his skin from the waves of pleasure coursing throughout your body.

"dave, im gonna cum. oh, oh! i'm gonna cum." you announced to him and he was holding off anyways, his jaw clenched his much that it was beginning to feel painful.

as you arch your back and let out a long whine, he stills his hips as his warm cum fills you up. it was the first time he was fully inside you, and you were aching around his cock, feeling it throbbing against your walls.

he leans up, leaving a soft kiss just above your breasts before you two share another kiss. you can't help but giggle, both of you feeling that sudden hit of exhaustion.

you lift yourself from your cock and cum runs down your slit, letting him see the mess he made. dave smirks, expecting him to say that he'll get you a towel but instead licks his lips and starts to lean down between your legs again.

it was like deja vu. his tongue presses against your swollen slit, tasting your mixed cum before sucking on your sore clit. now you're so sensitive to the touch, you could orgasm again at any moment. he was so in tune with your body that he knew what pace to go and how long you could actually lasts.

you run your hands over your breasts, his tongue moving so perfectly between your slit and clit. you feel his press a light kiss against the area above your pussy before trailing more kisses up your body. then, you two shared another kiss, tasting each other's tongues once more before he laid next to you.

"you know, i've never had a study partner like you." you jeered, pressed a kiss against the start of his jaw.

he blushed, "me neither..." he raised his eyebrows, "trust me."

[tuiccim]

We're Gonna Burn (Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Smut, Sex Pollen, Non/DubCon (because sex pollen), enemies to lovers.

Summary: When an exposure to a strange powder makes you feel as if you're burning to death, your only relief is in the person you hate the most. Now dealing with the aftermath makes you question everything.

A/N: Hi friends! Thanks so much for your patience. We lost my mother-in-law last month and it's been a difficult time. But, I've got part two up and have got a good head start on parts 3 and 4. Hopefully updates won't be so far in between. As always, I have to say a special thanks to my beta reader @whisperlullaby who is also my hype princess and most darling friend. I hope you enjoy!

We're Gonna Burn Masterlist

In the two days since you returned to the compound, you had rarely left your room. Your body was incredibly sore the first day but it had started to lessen. You were glad the medbay kept a supply of morning after pills. Dr. Miles, your most trusted doctor, had examined you after the fact and said that you should be fully healed in a few days. The examination was a necessary requirement but it had felt like yet another invasion. 

Your emotions were a mess and the doctor had suggested a visit with a counselor to help you work through them. Now, you were starting to wonder if she had been right. Compartmentalizing wasn’t working, you had strange dreams, and your mood was all over the place. You had avoided everyone while you were off-duty to heal. The thought of facing any of them,  especially Bucky, made you sick. By now, you were sure they all knew what happened. Bucky had probably gloated that he had-

You couldn’t even finish the thought and shake it away. When you filled out the mission report, you had simply stated that there was an exposure to an unknown substance that had caused a short-lived fever. Quarantine and a battery of tests had cleared you to return home to the compound. The only person who knew what happened was Dr. Miles and Bucky, of course. Your gut clenched whenever you thought of him, which was often now. Hell, it had always been often. You had been enthralled by his story and excited to join the team. Unfortunately, he had proven to be nothing like you imagined. He seemed to hate you from the moment you were introduced. His comradery with your other teammates was fun and friendly, but with you, he was always scowling and defensive. You had given up after a few attempts at striking up a conversation. He had shut you down and moved away every time. 

And now, you’re a notch on his belt. Not that either of you had chosen it. It was just horrible luck- or was it? Had he purposely led you to that lab? Had he known what was there? What would happen? No, you stop yourself from spiraling. Even if he was a jackass, he wasn’t that kind of person. He had been just as surprised and affected. The thought of how affected he had been made you clench. You hated him but, fuck, that had been the most amazing sex of your life. You wondered if it was the drug or that thick-

Stop it! You hate him! You yell at yourself in your head. You felt concurrently turned on, ashamed, and angry. It was frustrating and eating at you. 

Thinking of eating, your stomach rumbles. It was late and you thought it would be safe to make a quick trip to the kitchen. You had exhausted the supply of snacks in your room and needed some real food. Peeking into the hall, you find it empty and quietly make your way to the kitchen. You make yourself a plate and raid the pantry for more snacks. As you were tip-toeing back to your room you saw Bucky coming out of his room at the other end of the hallway. He froze when he noticed you and watched as you made a mad dash for your room. Inside, you try to calm your rapidly beating heart. Tears streamed down your face for some reason you couldn’t pinpoint. You set everything on your desk and crumpled into a ball on the floor. You rocked as you tried to calm yourself while also berating yourself for your weakness. It was just sex. It wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t like you wanted it or even asked for it. It was just a mutually agreed upon need. 

All your rationalizations did nothing to stop the surge of emotions taking over. So, you decided that maybe Doc was right. You needed to talk to someone. Someone to help you sort out your own feelings. You just hoped that you could feel normal again because, right now, you are not yourself.

–

Bucky stared at the space you had occupied a minute ago. He hadn’t seen you since you’d returned from the mission. You hadn’t been able to look at him in the small amount of time you were together during exfil. You’d both been put through quarantine and testing. He had no long lasting effects from the exposure but he knew you had to be bruised and sore from the experience. He felt immensely guilty about that but he could no more have stopped what was happening than you could. Sometimes he wondered if he could have even if it wasn’t for the pollen, it was the best thing he’d felt in seventy years. You were so soft, wet, and perfectly tight. 

Berating himself as he felt his body react to the memories, he reminded himself that you hate him. You had good reason to. He had been an absolute ass since you joined the team. Hethinks about his terrible behavior. He didn’t like new people to start with and then, out of seemingly nowhere, you were put with the team. It roused his suspicions and he viewed you as a potential threat. So, he had questioned your every motive, idea, and process. He wanted to hate you but the more he saw your work with the team and interactions outside of it, the more he found you intriguing. Rather than apologizing or correcting his behavior, he had doubled down. He couldn’t explain it but some small, stupid part of him had hoped that this incident would create an opening for him to reconcile with you but now you couldn't even look at him.

Who could blame you after the way he had treated you? Both before and during. He had been lost in the feeling and had stopped fighting the effects of the pollen the first moment he entered you. Hell, he hadn’t really fought it from the beginning. He had burst into that bathroom as if he had every right to enter it. You had to hate him even more now with what he’d done. He felt the need to talk to you, to apologize, to ask you to forgive him. He hadn’t told a soul what happened and had been deliberately vague in his mission report. He hadn’t wanted to make it any worse for you. 

Retreating to his room, Bucky paces trying to figure out his next move. Should he approach you or wait for you to come to him? He shakes his head. You wouldn’t approach him. Not the way you, no doubt, feel about him. You probably never wanted to see him again. What did you think? Did you hate him even more? Most likely. Did you think he had done this on purpose? That he had taken advantage of you? The drug had taken both of your ability to really consent. Did you feel�� What are you feeling? He couldn’t stand the thought that you hated him even more or that you thought he hurt you purposely. 

He grabbed the doorknob, determined to speak with you but his hand slipped from it before he could turn the knob. You needed more time. He shouldn’t push you. He’d wait until you were at least healed. That was a better idea, he decided. It wasn’t that he was chickening out, he was just waiting until the wounds weren’t so fresh. That was the best thing to do, wasn’t it?

–

You nervously bounce your legs as you wait for the office door of Dr. Victoria Montesi to open. Dr. Miles had gotten you an appointment within thirty minutes of messaging her that morning. You wonder if she already had Dr. Montesi on standby. It wouldn’t be surprising with how well Doc seemed to know and anticipate your needs medically. 

When the door opens, you turn to look at the woman smiling softly at you. She was lovely with dark hair and eyes, and she radiated a calm demeanor that immediately put you at ease. 

“Hi. I’m Vicki Montesi,” she introduced herself.

Giving a polite smile, you give your name but don’t extend your hand. Touch was too intimate a thing to do currently and Dr. Montesi seemed to instinctively understand your body language. You felt so weak and hated it. You had been through major disasters, espionage, a host of events that would fell another person. Why was this the one thing that affected you so deeply? 

Dr. Montesi motioned for you to follow her and closed the door behind you softly, “Sit wherever you like. Do you mind if I take some notes?” 

“Uh, no, that's fine,” you shrug.

She grabbed a pad of paper off her desk and took a seat across from where you had settled on the couch. You fidgeted with your hands, glancing up occasionally. You knew she was waiting for you to start but two could play at-

“What brings you in today?” She interrupts your train of thought. 

“I, um,” you stuttered, thrown that she hadn’t followed the pattern you expected. “What did Dr. Miles tell you?”

“That you needed someone to talk to.”

“Oh…” you trail off suspiciously. 

“Your privacy is tantamount to both of us as your doctors,” Dr. Montesi says gently. 

“Right. So, I, um, we, I,” you stop yourself. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you begin again, “I was on a mission with a teammate. We were exposed to a powder that… forced the need for, for. Fuck! It made us burn up with fever and feel intense pain unless we were actively having sex. It felt like we were dying if we weren’t fucking. And of all the people in the fucking world it had to be with Bucky fucking Barnes. I can’t stand him and knowing that we- goddammit.” The words had become rushed and your frustration grew as you tried to explain. 

“So, you were put into a situation you had no control over, and your only relief was provided by someone you don’t like? Am I understanding you correctly?”

“Yes and hate. I hate him. He’s such a jerk, He’s probably told everyone who would listen.”

“Why do you think that?” Dr. Montesy probes. 

“Because he always undermines everything I say, anything I bring to the table. What better way to knock me down a few pegs than to tell everyone that he got me in bed?” You explain. 

“Have you spoken with him since it happened?”

“No, I haven’t really spoken to anyone since, ya know.” You look down at your hands. 

“And you feel that Bucky has after what happened?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” You scoff.

“Do you think the situation was different for him?”

“Yes! No, I… I don’t know,” you look away for a minute gauging what he could possibly be feeling. In your mind you think through your prejudices towards him, realizing many were sexist assumptions of what men are supposed to feel and others never took his past into consideration. Most of your thoughts had centered only around the hatred you felt for him and his constant attitude towards you but underneath all of that was a real person who was probably struggling with aspects of this as well. You admit in a near whisper, “Probably not.”

“It’s good that you’re able to look outside yourself. Can you tell me how you feel about the situation aside from him?”

You nod, taking a moment to assess that yourself, “It sucks to not have control over a situation to not have any good choices. I didn’t want it to happen but it’s part of the job. Sometimes you end up in these situations where no matter what you do, you’re going to come out on the other end with regrets. This one was just much more intimate than most. I want to blame someone and I keep blaming myself. That I couldn’t control myself, that I led both of us straight into that trap, that I used him and allowed him to use me. I just feel ashamed.”

“That’s common in situations like this but you did the one thing you were supposed to do. You survived.”

–

You saw Dr. Montesi again a couple of days later. She was helping you process and you appreciated it. She had a way of pulling things out of you that surprised you. Like when you continually called him Barnes rather than his first name and anytime she said his first name, you corrected her immediately. 

“There’s something more here. What is it about his name that bothers you?” She asks. 

“He… made me say it during,” you shrug, looking away. 

“Why does that bother you?”

“I never call him by his first name. It's always Barnes or asshat. Never Bucky.”

“And he made you call him Bucky?”

“Yes. He wouldn’t, you know, um… let me-”

“Orgasm?”

“Yeah, until I did. It felt… awkward,” you finish softly. 

“Just awkward?” She pushes. 

“Infuriating. Like a violation, another way control was taken from me. I mean, why? Why would he do that? What possessed him?”

“Well, the pollen for one thing, but have you considered that might have been the way he found some control in the situation?”

“So, you’re saying I shouldn’t take it personally? It wasn’t about bringing me to heel but about him finding a modicum of control? But should that negate how I feel?” You ask, confused.

“Not at all. Your feelings are valid but what I want you to understand is there is a why for him that may have had nothing to do with you. Do you understand?”

“I think so.”

“Why have you never called him by his first name?”

“Because I hate him,” you shrug. 

“Can you elaborate on that?”

“It’s like I told you before, he treats me like a subordinate. Like I didn’t earn my place and I don’t have anything to offer.”

“Even after you’ve worked together for the last several months?”

“It lessened after a while I guess but he still acts like an ass all the time.”

“How have you handled that?”

“I tried to be friendly, to prove myself, and then I gave up. Why waste the energy?”

“Is it a waste? There’s no hope?” Dr. Montesi tilts her head. 

“I mean, I don’t… I don’t know. I just… I don’t know,” your voice trails off as you think back over all your interactions with Bucky. What if you had missed an opening? Was there some point when he tried to let you in but you had closed yourself off and delivered only sass and smartass remarks? But was that your fault? Was it all up to you?

“It’s okay to not have an answer but it is something you might think about until we see each other again.”

–

You saw her again early the next week. Each time it helps you see more clearly and feel more like yourself. Her guidance through your feelings and assumptions both good or bad, right or wrong without judgment or censure allowed you to explore more than just the situation with Barnes. It was the question she had posed about his motives that had stuck with you. 

“I think I'm ready to talk to,” you pause as your stubborn nature still fights against you calling him Bucky, but Barnes seemed even less apt now. You finally settled on just using the noncommittal, “him.”

“Oh?” Dr. Montesi waits for you to elaborate.

“I feel like I need to know his motives and feelings,” the last word was hard to push past your lips. You hadn't considered his feelings ever really. At least, not since he had proven himself to be a royal jackass. There was still a part of you that loathed him but somehow concern for his reaction to all of this had wormed its way into your mind. 

“What do you think that will do for you?” She asks, tilting her head.

“I don't know. I read his mission report on what happened. He was even more vague than I was on the details. Whether he was protecting himself or me, I wasn't sure but,” you take a deep breath before admitting the next part, “then I went through the other reports for missions we had been on together. He's always succinct but never fails to highlight others' contributions to the outcome. Even mine. It was obvious reading them that at some point he had started to see me as an asset. So, I guess, I think it'll give me some closure. Either we can start building a more respectful comradery or that's never going to happen and it's time for me to think about moving on.”

“How would that make you feel?”

“Disappointed but I want to be part of a team that has mutual respect for each other. If he can never give me that respect, I don't want to work with him. I'm not asking to be friends, just teammates. Preferably ones who can hold a conversation without all the snark.” You paused for a moment as a feeling of pride suffused through you. You were stronger than you realized and you were ready to find happiness and fulfillment on your terms. You smiled to yourself and then looked up to share it with Dr. Montesi. Maybe you were imagining it, but you felt you could see it in her eyes, too. 

When you left her office a little while later, you pulled out your phone and sent a short text. 

You: Hey. Can we talk?

It was only a few minutes later that your phone dings. 

Barnes: Yeah. On the phone or do you want to meet up? You: I’d prefer face to face. Barnes: Where? I can come to you.  You: I’m on my way back there. I’ll come to you. Barnes: Okay.

You let out a little laugh. That was probably the most civilized conversation the two of you had ever had. You started feeling the nerves in your stomach. This wasn’t going to be an easy conversation but you needed it to happen. It was time to face this head on. As you make your way, you practice breathing techniques and make mental notes of what you wanted to say and ask. You even jotted a few down to help you remember when you know you're going into an emotional situation. 

There is still the confusion in your own head of what to call him. Such a simple thing but rife with emotion for you. Barnes was what you called him because you hated him and now you weren’t sure you did. James is his first name but no one calls him that. Bucky felt too friendly and intimate especially when it triggers reminders of that night every time you even think about it. Sergeant was too formal and felt harsh and rigid. Asshat was fitting when he was being one but you could hardly call him that all the time. You think back to what he calls you but, in just the way you have, he calls you by your last name mostly. You don’t ever recall hearing him say your first name. Occasionally, your designation and more than a few times he’s referred to you as “pita.” His way of calling you “pain in the ass.” You let out a scoffing laugh when you think of that and then shake the conundrum away. Maybe after this talk, you’d figure out what to call him or you wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore if you decided to move on. 

Updates and taglist: Due to the unreliable nature of tags, I no longer keep a taglist. Updates for series will be made on Sundays Central Time Zone. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!

[lostfracturess]

remedies and reasons | ch. 03

pairing — professor geto x law student reader

summary — this wasn’t supposed to happen. not that miserable internship at the law firm you hated, not him becoming your doctor, and definitely not that drunken night at the bar. but he helped, and god, you needed a friend. and he did too. except it's never just friendship with him, is it? it could be perfect—messy, complicated, but perfect. if only his heart wasn’t already taken.

word count — 11.8 k

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, age difference (10 years), doctor-patient relationship, smoking, alcohol use, mature themes, and depictions of illness. reader discretion is advised.

author's note — hey everyone! i'm back with a new chapter, and i know it's been a while. this time, we're diving back into suguru's head to explore his conflicting feelings. as always, this story is a spin-off of symptoms and causes, starting after chapter 12, but it can be read as a standalone. this chapter takes place during the events of chapter 14, where things were pretty intense, so get ready for suguru's perspective on those events, plus some extra bonding time with a certain law student.

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

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(note: r&r reader)

What a strange fucking day.

The coffee from the hospital cafeteria tasted like burnt rubber, leaving a bitter aftertaste that matched my state perfectly. Everything felt slightly out of sorts, like the world had shifted two inches to the left while I wasn't looking, and I was the only one who noticed.

I'd put on mismatched socks this morning, didn't notice until I was already at work. Stepped in a puddle that somehow soaked through my supposedly waterproof shoes. Small things, really. Inconsequential. But they piled up like evidence that I wasn't quite myself lately.

And on top of that, my mind kept drifting back to the sports bar, to easy laughter and surprisingly good conversation. To someone who actually managed to make me forget about work for a few hours. It was... nice. Different. Unsettling. Probably why I let things get carried away. 

What the hell had gotten into me?

I wasn't the type to hook up in bar bathrooms. I didn't do reckless. I was the responsible one, always cleaning up other people's messes — usually Satoru's. 

Yet here I was, distracted and unfocused because of a law student who somehow got under my skin without me even realizing it. Frustrating. That's what it was.

I stared at the ruined samples in front of me, the third batch I'd had to throw out this morning. A stupid beginner's mistake — mixing the reagents in the wrong order like some first-year med student. The solution had turned an ugly shade of red instead of the pale blue it was supposed to be, completely useless now.

I slammed the test tube rack down harder than necessary, making the glass containers rattle. A few drops of the failed experiment splashed onto my lab coat. Perfect. Just perfect.

I glanced at Satoru across the lab bench. He'd been staring at the same equation for twenty minutes now, his leg bouncing that infuriating rhythm that made me want to stab him with my pen. The same nervous energy that had been radiating off him all morning. Neither of us was really focused on work it seemed.

"You going to tell me what's wrong, or do I have to guess?" I finally asked, perhaps partly to distract myself from my own thoughts.

He blinked, as if just remembering I was there. "Nothing's wrong."

"Really? Because you've been glaring at that formula for like an hour."

"Maybe I just enjoy looking at my own handwriting. It's pretty, isn't it? Unlike yours."

"At least the nurses can read my prescriptions without three callbacks."

"That was one time." He spun in his chair to face me. "And the pharmacy figured it out eventually."

I need a cigarette.

No, I need several cigarettes.

I was about to retort when a soft knock echoed through the lab. We both turned toward the door, and suddenly all my annoyance vanished. It was her.

Standing there in the doorway, clutching a folder to her chest, looking almost nervous. Her eyes darted between Satoru and me, and I could see the moment she registered the awkwardness of the situation.

She was wearing a crisp blazer, her hair pulled back neatly — every inch the professional law intern. Maybe it was the confused sleep deprivation talking, but I swore I caught a hint of pink creeping across her cheeks when our eyes briefly met before she looked away.

"Oh," she said. "I didn't expect to find you both here."

Satoru straightened up, his demeanor shifting instantly to doctor mode. "Everything okay? Is it your medication?"

"No, no," she quickly assured him. "Actually, I'm here about the... um, the legal consultation from the other day?" She held up the folder. "Mr. Higurama asked me to get both your signatures on these forms."

"More paperwork?" Satoru groaned theatrically. "They really love their forms at that firm, don't they? I bet they have forms for their forms."

She laughed — not the bold, uninhibited laugh from the bar, but something smaller, more contained. Professional. It was strange seeing her like this, all sharp edges and formal wear, when just days ago we'd been trading stories over beer and darts.

"Well," she said, stepping fully into the lab, "we do love forms, yes." Her eyes landed on the mess of failed experiments on our benches, the chaos of scribbles on the whiteboard. I just now realized how utterly chaotic the whole lab was. "Bad time?"

"No," I said, maybe too quickly. "Just a rough morning in the lab."

"Rough morning?" Satoru raised an eyebrow. "This is the first time I've seen him mess up this experiment since university. Usually he's annoyingly perfect."

I shot him a look that promised murder. Or at least severe bodily harm.

She glanced between us, a hint of unease, her fingers tightening on the folder as she took a small step back. "Should I come back later? When there's less...chaos?"

"No, it's fine," I said, reaching for the folder. Our fingers brushed as she handed it over, and I found myself wondering if she was still thinking about that night too. Probably not. She was just here doing her job.

I opened the folder, scanning the documents inside. More forms about professional conduct and boundaries. The irony wasn't lost on me.

"These need both our signatures?" I asked.

She nodded. "Mr. Higurama was very specific about that."

I grabbed a pen and signed where indicated, then passed the folder to Satoru. As he signed, I caught her stifling a yawn.

"Long night?" I asked.

"Just law student things," she replied with a tired smile. "Coffee and case studies until 3 AM."

"Sounds familiar," I said, thinking of my own sleepless night, though for very different reasons. "Though I prefer my all-nighters with better coffee than whatever they serve at that firm."

"Our coffee is not that bad actually—"

Before she could finish, Satoru thrust the folder at her. "Here," he said. "All signed and ready to go back to the fun police." He glanced at his phone, then suddenly stood up. "Speaking of which, I need to go. Got a... thing."

A thing? I raised an eyebrow at him, but he was already halfway to the door. "Don't mess up any more experiments, Suguru," he called over his shoulder, and then he was gone, leaving us alone in the now quiet space.

She stood there, folder clutched to her chest, looking unsure. "Is Dr. Gojo okay? He seems a bit on edge."

"Not more than usual, I guess."

"So that failed experiment over there?" She gestured past me with her finger.

I glanced at my failed experiment, which had now turned an alarming shade of green that definitely wasn't in any textbook I'd ever read. Either I'd just discovered a new chemical compound, or I was about to violate several safety protocols. Possibly both.

"Observant. They teach you that in law school?"

"No, that's just natural talent," she said, some of that bar night ease creeping back into her voice. "Though I have to say, watching things change color isn't usually part of my job description."

"Consider it a bonus lesson in chemistry." Before I could overthink it, I heard myself asking, "Have you had lunch yet?"

She hesitated, shifting the folder in her arms. "I should probably get these back to Mr. Higurama—" Just then, the folder slipped from her grasp, papers scattering across the lab floor. "Oh god," she muttered, immediately dropping to her knees to gather them.

In her haste to collect the papers, she bumped into the lab bench. The rack of test tubes rattled precariously. I lunged forward, managing to catch the rack just as it started to tip, but not before one of the tubes spilled its contents onto the counter.

"I'm so sorry!" She scrambled to her feet, papers clutched messily to her chest, her cheeks now bright red. "I swear I wasn't trying to sabotage your experiments. Though they were already ruined anyway—not that that makes it better! I just meant—"

I watched her frantically trying to collect the papers, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the chaos. "I'll pay," I offered, cutting off her rambling. "Besides, we should probably get going, that failed experiment's probably going to turn purple next and who knows what happens then."

She paused mid-reach for another paper, looking up at me with wide eyes. "Are you threatening me with your failed experiment to get me to have lunch with you?"

"Is it working?"

She glanced at the door where Satoru had disappeared, then back at me, fidgeting with the crumpled papers in her arms. "You know what? Yeah. If you really want to—I mean, after I almost destroyed your lab—"

"Well, you're certainly making my morning more interesting."

She tried to smooth out the crumpled papers, only managing to wrinkle them more. "Oh, I mean—Is that a good thing? Because I can't tell if you're complimenting me or—"

"Come on, Attorney, let's get you away from any breakable objects," I said, already shrugging off my lab coat and heading for the door. "I know a good place and trust me after that, you'll never defend that law firm sludge again."

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: r&r reader)

The café was tucked away in a narrow alley, the kind of place you'd walk right past unless you knew what you were looking for. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of freshly ground coffee beans and something sweet baking in the back.

She looked around, taking in the worn leather chairs and mismatched mugs, the walls lined with old medical textbooks and vintage anatomy charts. "So this is where all the doctors hide out?"

"Best kept secret in the hospital district," I said, leading her to a small table by the window. "Though I'm pretty sure I'm violating some sacred code by bringing a lawyer here."

The owner, an elderly man who'd been serving coffee to sleep-deprived medical staff for longer than I'd been alive, brought over two cups without us having to order. The coffee was served in glass cups, the dark liquid nearly black, with a perfect crema on top.

"What is this?" she asked, leaning forward to inspect the cup.

"Just trust me."

She raised an eyebrow. "The last time a doctor told me to 'just trust them,' I ended up with a prescription that made me sleep for sixteen hours straight."

"Satoru's work, I assume?"

"Maybe."

I watched as she lifted the cup, inhaling. Her eyes widened slightly. "Oh."

"Try it," I said, finding myself oddly invested in her reaction.

She took a careful sip, and I couldn't help but smile as her expression changed — surprise, then joy, then something close to awe.

"Holy shit," she whispered, staring at the cup like it held the secrets of the universe.

"Better than the law firm sludge?"

"Okay, fine, you win." She took another sip, closing her eyes. "What is this?"

"Family secret, apparently. The owner won't tell anyone, not even me." I picked up my own cup. "Though I have my theories."

"Care to share?"

"Doctor-patient confidentiality."

She kicked me lightly under the table. "I'm not your patient."

"No," I agreed, the words carrying more weight than I'd intended. "You're not."

She looked away, suddenly very interested in the anatomy chart on the wall, a slight flush creeping up her neck. I caught myself enjoying her reaction more than I probably should.

"You know," I said, breaking the silence, "you still haven't shown me your paintings."

Her eyes snapped back to mine. "What?"

"At the bar, you promised to show me your work someday." I took another sip of coffee. "Unless that was just the alcohol talking."

"I did not promise anything," she protested, but her fingers fidgeted with the handle of her cup. "And I don't really show my work to people."

I leaned back in my chair, studying her. "Not even to doctors who hold your hand during MRI scans?"

"Especially not to doctors who do such unethical things, Dr. Geto." But there was a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"I seem to recall you saying my hands were very good or something."

Her cheeks flushed pink, and she fumbled with her coffee cup, nearly sending it sloshing over the rim. "I did not say that."

"No? Must have been another patient then."

"Can we please pretend I never said anything about your hands?" She shifted in her seat, clearly flustered. "Or anything else that happened that day?"

"Show me your paintings and I might consider selective amnesia."

"Are you actually blackmailing me with my own embarrassing moments?" She leaned forward slightly. "I should sue you for violation of doctor-patient confidentiality."

"Please don't. I have enough lawyers breathing down my neck as it is."

"Oh, I know." Her lips twitched into a smile. "Your case files take up an entire cabinet at the firm."

"Now who's the unethical one?" I couldn't help but smile. "Pretty sure those files are supposed to be confidential."

"See the positive." The corner of her mouth quirked up, and she propped her chin on her hand. Her sleeve slid down slightly. "I can help you. Though my rates are quite steep—one painting viewing equals one legal consultation."

"Brutal negotiation tactics. They're teaching you well at that firm."

She bit her lip, fighting back a grin. The gesture was distracting in a way I didn't want to examine too closely. Then, she wrapped her hands around her cup, leaning forward slightly. "Speaking of teaching, how's that research project going?"

I groaned, running a hand through my hair. "Can we not? I'd rather hear about your law stuff."

"Oh god no," she groaned in return, slumping back in her chair. "Let's not talk about that either."

"That bad, huh?"

"You have no idea. Just endless stacks of papers and Chad being... well, Chad."

"Chad?" I raised an eyebrow.

"This awful intern who thinks he owns the place because his dad's some stupid partner. Like, today he tried to take credit for my research on the Yamamoto case, which, by the way, I spent three nights working on. And then he had the nerve to correct my citations in front of everyone, except he was wrong. He was completely wrong, and everyone knew it, but nobody said anything because, you know, his dad and everything—" 

She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening as if just realizing she'd been rambling again. Her hands fluttered nervously around her coffee cup. "Sorry, I'm talking too much, aren't I?"

"No," I said, surprising myself with how much I meant it. "I like hearing you talk."

Her eyes met mine, startled. "You do?"

"Yeah. It's... refreshing, I mean hearing about anything that's not related to someone's blood and lab work." I traced the rim of my cup with my finger. "Is this Chad giving you trouble? Because I could always stop by the firm, maybe have a word with him."

She let out a startled laugh, then immediately looked embarrassed by how loud it was. A few other people glanced our way, making her shrink slightly in her seat.

"What, are you offering to intimidate him for me?"

"I can be quite intimidating when I want to be."

"That's a weird thing to say about oneself."

"You say way more weird things." I glanced at my watch and couldn't help but sigh. "Speaking of intimidating, I've got a class of overconfident med students waiting."

"Oh." She looked up. "Right, of course."

I should leave it at that. Get up, go back to work, stop whatever this is before it gets complicated. I have enough on my plate with the research, with Satoru acting weird, with everything else. The last thing I need is to get involved with—

My hand brushed against the crumpled paper in my coat pocket. That flyer some art student had thrust into my hands this morning at the campus entrance, just like they did to everyone else rushing past. 

"Actually, there's this art exhibition next weekend at the city gallery."

What the hell am I doing?

She blinked at me, her coffee cup frozen halfway to her mouth. "Are you... are you asking me to go to an art exhibition?"

This is stupid. I don't even like art exhibitions. They're crowded and pretentious, and I have better things to do with my weekend. Like work. Or sleep. Or literally anything else. I'm really not quite myself lately.

"I mean, if you want to. I don't understand much about art, but—" I rubbed the back of my neck. "If you show me what to look for, I'm sure I'll like it."

That sounded so lame. Why am I even doing this?

"You mean that?" she asked. "Because you don't have to pretend to be interested in art just because I—"

"I want to," I cut her off. "Besides, maybe you can explain to me why people pay millions for paintings of soup cans."

She laughed, that genuine, unguarded sound from the bar, and I was glad I hadn't thrown the flyer away. "Those are Warhol, and they're actually a commentary on mass production and consumer culture in—" She stopped herself, cheeks flushing. "And I'm doing it again."

"Saturday at 6?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said softly. "Saturday at 6 sounds good."

As I stood to leave, the absurdity of the situation hit me. Here I was, voluntarily signing up for an afternoon of art appreciation. What was wrong with me? 

The closest thing to art in my apartment is that anatomy poster Satoru got me as a joke last Christmas. If he ever found out about this, I'd never hear the end of it. But somehow, I couldn't bring myself to care.

It wasn't until I was back in my office at the university, staring at a stack of research papers, that I realized something strange — I hadn't smoked since morning. My usual lunchtime cigarette break had come and gone without me even noticing. 

My pack sat untouched in my coat pocket. I pulled it out now, turning it over in my hands, and somehow I found myself oddly looking forward to learning about soup cans.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

The lecture went fine. It always did.

Talk about neurons, synapses, action potentials. Watch sleepy med students pretend to take notes while secretly checking their phones. Answer the same questions I'd answered a hundred times before. Rinse and repeat.

Now, hours later, I was back in the lab. The chaos from this morning had been methodically cleaned away. New solutions mixed, properly this time. Everything in its place, color-coded and labeled with my precise handwriting.

The lab was quiet at this hour. Just the soft hum of equipment and the occasional footsteps in the hallway outside. It was peaceful, in its own way. Or maybe just lonely.

I checked my watch — 5:47 PM. I should probably head home, but then what? Watch some mindless TV show? Read another research paper? Order takeout that would sit in my fridge until it went bad? God, when did my life become this predictable?

The solution in front of me turned the correct shade of blue this time. Finally. I made a note in my lab book, but my mind wandered. About Satoru's strange behavior. About her. About how she looked at Satoru like he hung the moon and stars just for her.

I pushed away from the bench so forcefully my chair squeaked against the floor. My hands were already reaching for my cigarettes before I made it to the window. The night air was cool against my face as I lit up, inhaling deeply.

This was exactly what I didn't need to think about. Not now. Not ever. Focus on the research. On the failed experiments. On anything else but the ache that threatened to consume me whenever I let my mind wander in her direction.

The cigarette burned down too quickly. I lit another one immediately. What kind of person fell for their best friend's girlfriend? What kind of friend was I to even—

No. Stop that train of thought right there.

The smoke curled up into the night sky, hoping it would carry with it all the things I couldn't let myself feel. All the words I couldn't say. All the moments I'd had to watch them together, pretending my heart wasn't being torn to shreds. I'm pathetic.

I exhaled another cloud of smoke into the night air. Maybe that was why I asked about the art exhibition. God knew I could use the distraction. From the research, from Satoru, from her.

And she — there was something in her eyes. That familiar look of someone drowning in circumstances they couldn't control. She needed a break too, probably more than she admitted. Maybe this Chad was partly responsible. Speaking of Chad—

I tapped my cigarette against the windowsill. It wouldn't be hard to figure out his real name. Law firms kept records of their interns, and with his father being a partner. One quick search in the hospital database and I could probably find something interesting in his medical history. Everyone had secrets. Maybe something embarrassing. Something that would make him think twice about—

What the hell am I thinking? I stubbed out my cigarette, leaving a black smear. Great. Now I'm contemplating abusing my position to dig up dirt on some spoiled law intern. Real professional, Suguru. Really living up to that ethical conduct seminar.

Though the thought of his smug face when he tried to take credit for her work—

No. Absolutely not. I'm better than that.

I lit another cigarette, trying to ignore how satisfying the idea was. I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. Saturday at 6.

At least that was something to look forward to. Something normal. Well, as normal as anything could be when you were a neurosurgeon voluntarily going to an art exhibition with a law student who was also your patient, technically. What did people even wear to art exhibitions?

My pen tapped against the lab book as my phone buzzed.

[2:34 PM] s&c reader: Need any help in the lab today? I can come in if you want.

[2:35 PM] Me: Just boring prep work left. Take the day off.

Three dots appeared, then disappeared. Then appeared again.

[2:37 PM] s&c reader: You sure? I can help with the prep too.

[2:37 PM] Me: Rest. Doctor's orders.

[2:40 PM] s&c reader: I hate when you say that.

I found myself smiling at my phone, picturing her frustrated face as she typed that. She was probably pouting right now, hunched over her textbooks in the library, annoyed that I'd pulled rank. That stubborn set of her jaw when she tried not to admit defeat. Just like him.

The smile faded as quickly as it had come. I immediately set my phone down and took a deep breath. I should be thinking about the research. About tumor markers and treatment protocols. Not about my student who was probably still in the library despite my orders to rest.

No. Not about her at all.

I glanced at my phone again, fighting the urge to text her back. Focus, I told myself. Work. Don't do anything stupid. God, this day really couldn't get any more fucking frustrating. 

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

The lab was quiet.

I'd been at this for hours, my eyes straining in the bright light of the laminar flow hood, my back aching from hunching over the bench. The familiar chemical smell of ethanol lingered in my nostrils from the endless rounds of sterilizing equipment. 

I straightened up, rolling my shoulders in a futile attempt to ease the knots. A glance at the clock told me it was late, far later than I'd intended to stay. 

The steady hum of the cell incubator behind me had become white noise hours ago, punctuated only by the occasional click of the temperature regulator. I was exhausted, ready to call it a night. But I couldn't leave, not yet.

There was still work to be done, still samples to process. The micropipette tips rattled in their box as I reached for another one, the sound sharp in the empty lab. My stomach rumbled in response. 

I sighed, tugging the elastic from my hair and running my fingers through the dark strands before twisting them back into a loose knot. A few pieces escaped, falling around my face as I looked over to the window, staring out at the darkening sky. 

The sun had already dipped below the horizon, the last streaks of orange fading into deep purple. The campus was quiet, most of the other staff and students long gone for the day.

My stomach growled again, reminding me that I hadn't eaten since lunch as I returned to work. I weighed my options—power through these last samples and face my empty fridge at home, or brave the vending machine downstairs for stale coffee and a questionable sandwich—

Then I heard the door open behind me. I didn't turn, couldn't turn, my hands still buried in the fragile work, the pipette cool in my gloved fingers. But then I heard her voice, and my heart stopped.

"Suguru?"

God, how I wanted to turn to her, to drink in the sight of her. But I couldn't, not yet.

"Hey," I replied, my gaze still fixed on the vials before me. "Didn't expect you here today. Sorry, the fun part's already over." I completed the transfer, then turned to face her, a easy smile on my lips. But the smile died as soon as I saw her face.

I didn't respond immediately, too startled by her appearance. Even in the dim light, it was impossible to miss.

She looked small, fragile in a way I had never seen before. Her eyes were red and swollen, her cheeks pale. She had been crying, that much was clear. She hugged herself tightly, as if she was trying to physically hold the pieces of herself together. 

Seeing her like that, so broken, tore at something deep inside me, something I hated, something fierce and aching.

"What happened?" 

The question was inevitable. But I already knew. There was only one thing, one person, that could make my pretty girl cry.

Her eyes were fixed on the floor, but I could see the tears welling up, threatening to spill over. "Can we work on something?" she finally asked, her voice small. "Please."

I hesitated, torn between the need to comfort her and the knowledge that it wasn't my place. "Do you want to talk about it?" I offered, even though I knew the answer before she even shook her head.

"No," she choked out. "I can't. I need—I need to focus on something else. Anything else. Or I think I'll fall apart."

I understood that feeling all too well. The need to lose yourself in work, to bury yourself in the familiar of the lab until the rest of the world faded away. But I hated that she felt it too, hated that he had driven her to this point. Hated him, with a fury that burned white-hot in my veins.

And the worst part was that I knew there was more, more that he was hiding from her. More lies, more secrets, more ways he was hurting her without her even knowing. And it made me want to scream, to rage, to tear him apart with my bare hands for daring to hurt her like this.

But I couldn't. All I could do was be here for her, in whatever way she needed me. 

"Please, Suguru." Her voice was pleading, desperate. "Can we just work?"

I hesitated for a moment longer, my gaze lingering on her face, taking in the vulnerability etched there. The urge to pull her into my arms, to hold her until the pain faded away, was almost overwhelming. But I knew I couldn't cross that line, not now, not like this.

Finally, I nodded and peeled off my gloves, setting them aside. I reached for her, gently undoing the tight knot of her crossed arms. Her hands were like ice in mine, trembling and fragile. I took one hand in both of mine, wishing I could take away her pain.

"What do you want to work on?" I asked softly, my thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of her hand.

"The nanoparticles," she said, her voice a little steadier. "We still need to narrow down the potential materials and targeting ligands, right?"

"Yeah," I said, forcing a smile. "Anything you want."

Anything for you. 

The words echoed in my mind, a bitter reminder of the truth I could never speak aloud. I loved her, had loved her for longer than I cared to admit, but she was with Satoru. And no matter how much it hurt to see her like this, to know that he was the one who had caused her pain, I couldn't let my own feelings get in the way.

So I pushed them down, buried them deep, and focused on the work. On being the friend she needed, the partner she could rely on. Even if it meant ignoring the part of me that screamed for something more. Even if it meant watching her break, again and again, and being powerless to stop it.

We worked in silence for a while, the familiar routine of the lab providing distraction. For her. For me. She focused intently on the task at hand, her brow furrowed as she carefully prepared the samples. Like everything she did, with unwavering precicion.

I watched her out of the corner of my eye, my heart aching at the tension in her shoulders, the tightness around her eyes. 

Time seemed to slip away as we lost ourselves in the work, the outside world fading away. I caught myself stealing glances at her, watching how her hair fell forward when she leaned over the samples. Every little gesture a knife to my heart. 

These moments were the hardest — seeing her so close, yet having to maintain this careful distance. Watching her push herself to exhaustion, knowing I couldn't hold her, couldn't comfort her the way I desperately wanted to.

I averted my gaze and glanced at the clock, just now realizing how late it had gotten.

"Hey," I said softly, breaking the silence. "It's nearly midnight. We should probably call it a day."

She looked up, blinking as if coming out of a trance. "Oh, no I have to finsish this first." She looked over to me and my stern gaze must have silenced her objections.

I hesitated for a moment, then reached out and touched her arm gently, ignoring the way my skin burned at the contact. "Come on. I want to show you something."

She followed reluctantly as I led her to the far corner of the lab, where our old microscope sat — the one we rarely used anymore since getting the newer models. I pulled out a worn slide from the cabinet.

"Remember this?" I asked, setting up the microscope. "From your first week here?"

She leaned in to look, and I had to force myself to step back. "Oh god, my first attempt at cell staining. It's horrible."

"Actually," I said, adjusting the focus, "look at this part here." I pointed to a small cluster of cells. "See how you managed to isolate that specific population? Most students take months to get that kind of precision. You did it on your first try."

She was quiet for a moment, studying the slide. A look I adored so much. And for a moment, the pain and hurt seemed to fade away. 

"You've got instincts that can't be taught," I continued. "That's why you're going to crack this nanoparticle puzzle too."

"You really think so?"

"I know so." I pulled out another slide. "Here, look at your work from last month. See how far you've come?"

She studied it for a moment, then shook her head. "It's still not perfect, the staining could be cleaner, the resolution better. I should be doing better by now."

"You're being too hard on yourself." Always chasing perfection, just like him. "You can't expect to master everything in a few months. Even Satoru took years to—" I caught myself, watching her shoulders tense at his name. Wrong thing to say. "What I mean is, you're already exceeding everyone's expectations. Except maybe your own."

She fell quiet, turning back to the microscope. I watched as she adjusted the focus. Finally, she straightened up from the microscope, turning to face me, and there it was — that spark in her eyes I'd grown to love, the one that made my heart stutter every time.

"We should try adjusting the polymer composition," she said suddenly. "Maybe if we modified the surface charge—"

I smiled, relief flooding through me at seeing that spark return. "Whatever you want to try. I'm right here with you. But tomorrow, okay? After a bit of sleep."

"Thank you," she said softly, leaning back in her chair and stretching her arms above her head. A small yawn escaped her. "Sorry for taking up so much of your time. You must have been here for hours."

"No, not at all," I lied, watching as she rolled her shoulders to work out the stiffness. In truth, I'd been at the lab since dawn, but she didn't need to know that.

I swallowed hard, my heart suddenly racing. "You know I'm always here for you. No matter what."

We remained silent for a moment, the weight of everything unsaid crowded in my throat — how much I cared, how seeing her hurt made me want to tear the world apart, how every smile she gave me was torture.

"Come on," I said finally, breaking the spell before I could do something stupid. "Let's get out of here. I think we both need some sleep."

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

Cold autumn air burned in my lungs as I pushed myself harder, feet pounding against the leaf-strewn path. A thick blanket of mist hung low between the trees on my usual morning run, though nothing about this morning felt usual.

I hadn't slept. How could I?

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face. The way she looked so small, so broken. The tears she tried to hide. The trembling in her hands as we worked. The memory of those words made me stumble, my running shoes skidding on wet leaves, made my chest tight with something painful.

I picked up my pace, as if I could somehow outrun the guilt of my own thoughts. Because every time I saw her like this, a treacherous part of me whispered, I would never make you cry. I would never give you reason to doubt yourself. I would cherish every brilliant, imperfect moment.

Damn it.

I'm a terrible friend. To both of them.

The park was almost empty at this hour — just a few other early risers and their dogs. A jogger passed, giving me a brief nod. It was my routine, something that usually helped clear my head, but not today. Not when I couldn't stop thinking about how she looked last night, working herself to escape whatever he'd done this time.

What kind of man watches the woman he loves hurt like this and does nothing? Someone so passionate, so full of life, slowly dimming because he can't get his shit together—

Stop it. Stop thinking about her like that.

I stopped abruptly, hands on my knees, breathing hard. A cloud of vapor formed with each exhale, disappearing into the cold morning air. My t-shirt was soaked with sweat despite the chill.

This isn't my business. I've told myself this a hundred times. Their relationship, their problems — none of it concerns me. I'm just her professor. Her research partner. Just his friend. But friends don't let friends destroy the people they claim to love.

And I can't keep pretending I don't see what's happening. Can't keep watching her slowly break apart while he—

Before I knew what I was doing, I was heading back to my car. To hell with my day off. To hell with staying out of it. I've watched this play out for too long, kept my mouth shut for too long. Sorry, Satoru. But we need to talk.

I stormed through the university hallways, my footsteps thundering off the walls, still in my damp training clothes that clung uncomfortably to my skin. The lab door was ahead, and through the window I could see him.

Satoru was sitting in his chair, staring blankly at the whiteboard where incoherent scribbles were scattered, just like yesterday.

In two strides, I crossed the room and grabbed the back of his chair, spinning it around to face me. He looked awful — pale, unshaven, his hair a mess. The sharp scent of coffee couldn't mask something else on his breath. His eyes were bloodshot. I didn't care.

"What the hell did you say to her?" I snapped.

Satoru didn't even seem surprised by my presence. "Wow, that's a pretty broad question, don't you think?"

"Cut the bullshit, Satoru. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

He glanced up then, one eyebrow arched, that infuriatingly casual look I'd seen a thousand times before. "Damn, Suguru. Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?"

Something snapped inside me. Before I could think better of it, I was there, hands gripping the arms of his chair, caging him in. Close enough to see the muscle working in his jaw. "I'm gonna ask you this one time and one time only. What happened between you two?"

"Wow, you're really close." He glanced pointedly at the narrow space between us, but I caught the way his fingers tightened on the armrest. "We had a disagreement, that's all," he added, his tone dismissive.

"A disagreement?" The laugh that escaped me was harsh. I pushed away from his chair, turning so I wouldn't have to look at him. My hand scraped roughly across my face, trying my best not to take a hit on him. "She was in tears, Satoru. She could barely get the words out."

He didn't answer. Just straightened up, brushed imaginary dirt from his lab coat. Then he was on his feet, moving past me to the whiteboard as if I wasn't even there. As if we weren't having this conversation.

He picked up a marker, adding to the chaos of scribbles already there — equations that went nowhere, diagrams that made no sense.

"God, would you just—" I ran a hand through my hair in frustration. "You can't just ignore this, Satoru."

His knuckles went white around the marker. For a second, I thought he might actually turn around and hit me.

"How long are you gonna keep doing this to her?" I pressed. "Until she breaks completely?"

"You think I'm not aware of that," he muttered, still facing the board.

"Then fucking stop. If you can't treat her right, just let her go."

That got him. He spun around, eyes hard. "Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you?"

I blinked, taken aback. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Satoru laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Come on, Suguru. Don't act like you haven't been waiting for this. Waiting for your chance."

"That's not—" The words stuck in my throat. "This isn't about me."

"No?" He took a step closer. "Then what is it about? Why do you care so much?"

"Because she deserves better than this. And you know it."

"Better? You mean like you?" His lips curled into something cruel. "Too bad she's not yours to care about, huh? Even though you think you'd be so much better for her than me." He tilted his head, eyes cold. "Funny, isn't it? She doesn't want you, even knowing how bad I am for her. What does that say about you?"

The words hit like a physical blow, each word a serrated edge twisting in my gut. It took everything in me not to grab him by the throat. "You're being a dick."

"And you're being a lying piece of shit. When were you gonna tell me?" His voice dropped dangerously low. "About how you feel about her?"

"This isn't about me," I repeated through gritted teeth. "This is about what you're doing to her."

"You don't know anything about us."

I stepped closer, close enough to see the shadows under his eyes. "What happens when she finds out the truth, huh? When you're passed out in some hospital bed? That how you want her to learn about it?"

Something flickered in his eyes — pain, maybe guilt — but it was gone in an instant.

"Stay out of it," he said, his voice cold. "Just... stay out of it."

He turned back to the board. I watched him, this man I'd known my whole life, suddenly feeling like a stranger.

"What happened to you?" I asked quietly.

He didn't turn around. "Yeah," he said, his voice heavy. "Guess we'd all like to know, wouldn't we?"

I watched him scribble new, illogical equations on the whiteboard, this stranger wearing my best friend's face, and for a moment I saw echoes of who we used to be.

Late nights in the university library, surrounded by towers of medical textbooks. Satoru falling asleep on his notes, drooling on diagrams of the nervous system while I threw paper balls at his head to wake him up. The way we'd quiz each other until sunrise, high on caffeine and the shared dream of becoming surgeons.

Our residency years, which were nothing but brutal and endless. Sleeping in on-call rooms, stealing each other's coffee, covering for each other when we were dead on our feet. Learning to navigate the maze of hospital politics together. 

The rush of our first successful surgeries, the crushing weight of our first losses.

Even when things got bad, when the pressure started getting to him, when the pills became more than just a way to stay focused during exam season, he never shut me out completely. He'd show up at my door at 3 AM, shaking and sweating, and I'd let him in without a word. We'd sit in silence until the sun came up, until he could breathe again.

I was there through all of it. The interventions, the relapses, the promises to get clean. The nights when he'd call me, voice slurred, talking about how he didn't know how to go on. I'd talk him down, drive across town to pick him up from whatever hole he'd crawled into. 

We were brothers in everything but blood.

But now—

Now he stood there, shoulders rigid, adding meaningless equations to an already chaotic board. The gap between us felt wider than the few feet of lab floor. When did that happen? When did we stop being able to tell each other everything?

Was it when she came into our lives? When he fell in love with her? When I—

No. It was before that. The distance had been growing for a while, so gradually I hardly noticed. Like watching someone drift away on an outgoing tide, too slow to notice until they're already too far to reach.

The marker squeaked against the whiteboard. The sound grated on my nerves, like everything about him did these days. His secrets, his dismissive attitude, the way he kept everyone at arm's length while slowly self-destructing.

"Do you remember," I found myself saying, "that night in our second year of residency? When that kid crashed on my table?"

His hand stilled on the board.

"I was a mess afterward. Convinced I'd missed something, that it was my fault. You came to my place and we sat on the floor until morning, going over every detail of the surgery until I finally believed that I couldn't have saved him."

He didn't turn around, but I saw his shoulders tense.

"What happened to us, Satoru?"

The marker dropped from his hand, clattering against the metal tray. The sound echoed in the quiet lab.

"I don't know" he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper, "I'm tired of it all."

We stood there, two people who had once finished each other's sentences, now unable to find the right words. Silence stretched, thick and suffocating, filled with twenty years of shared history that suddenly felt meaningless.

I wanted to grab him, shake him, make him see what he was doing to himself. To her. To us. But I stayed where I was, the distance between us feeling more insuperable by the second. 

This strange, hollow feeling in my chest — was this what growing apart felt like? This gradual realization that the person standing before me, had become someone I didn't recognize?

But the details were still there—the slight crook in his nose from that basketball accident in high school with him, laughing it off even as blood dripped onto his jersey—the white line across his knuckles from that fight behind the gym, my own fists aching as I pulled him away—the small scar above his eyebrow from when we tried to climb that tree in sixth grade, both of us sworn to secrecy, telling our parents we fell off our bikes. 

Every mark told a story I could recite in my sleep, yet somehow, they all added up to someone I didn't know anymore. Like looking at a familiar photograph that had been subtly altered — all the pieces were there, but the picture was wrong.

My best friend, my brother, the person who knew me better than anyone — when did he become such a stranger? When did our comfortable silences turn into this suffocating void? 

The thought sat like lead in my stomach, bitter and cold, as I realized that sometimes knowing every scar on someone's skin doesn't mean you know what's beneath it anymore.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c and r&r reader)

Days blurred together in a haze of surgeries and lectures. 

I went through the motions, my hands steady as ever in the operating room, my voice clear during presentations. To anyone watching, I was the picture of professional composure. But inside? I don't know.

I thought I was doing a decent job of holding it together until one of my students approached me after a practically grueling morning lecture. The young man clutched a stack of papers, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead.

"Dr. Geto, about my thesis proposal—"

I cut him off with a wave of my hand, not even looking up from gathering my materials. "Email me to request thesis mentorship. I'll review your proposal and get back to you."

"Oh... you're, ehm, already my thesis advisor. We had an appointment scheduled for today."

I froze, finally looking at the student—really looking at him. Recognition dawned slowly, followed by a wave of shame. Takada Jun, one of my most promising students. We'd met twice a month since the semester began. Damn it.

"You're right," I said. "Sorry, can we reschedule?"

I was better than this. More professional than this. But lately, everything felt like it was slipping through my fingers.

The research lab was closed for the week—a "cooling off period," Yaga had called it. I knew what it really meant. We were all too volatile, too raw from recent events to work together effectively. So I went home early, something I never did.

My apartment felt emptier than usual, the silence pressing in from all sides. I tried reading, but the words swam before my eyes. I attempted to eat, but everything tasted like ash. Even my usual evening cigarette was bitter and harsh in my lungs.

My thoughts kept drifting to Satoru, wondering what he was doing, not if he was using, only what cocktail of pills he'd chosen this time. The math was easy enough—one to stay awake, two to fall asleep, three to numb the edges, repeat as needed. I'd seen it too many times before.

I crushed out my cigarette, watching the ember die. I reached for another only to find an empty pack. Figured. I should go buy more, knew I'd need them if I let myself think about her, about them. But I didn't want to leave the apartment, couldn't put on real clothes.

My only glimpse of light was the art exhibition on Saturday. The thought of it made something in my chest loosen, just slightly. I pulled out my phone, staring at our last exchange of messages before typing out a new one.

[6:45 PM] Me: Should I pick you up for the exhibition?

Her response came quickly.

[6:47 PM] Attorney: Let's meet there. I might be running late from a study group.

[6:47 PM] Me: Sounds good.

I hesitated, then added.

[6:48 PM] Me: Looking forward to it.

[6:49 PM] Attorney: Me too :)

A small smile tugged at my lips. For a brief, ridiculous moment, I wondered if I should bring flowers. The thought made me pause, my hand reaching automatically for my cigarettes before remembering the empty pack. What the hell was I doing?

This was wrong on so many levels.  She was my patient. Well, technically Satoru's patient. And young—god, she was so young. And I was... what? A mess of a man carrying a torch for someone I could never have, trying to fill that void with someone else? I was not sure.

My mind kept drifting back to that night at the bar. The way she felt pressed against me in that dimly lit bathroom, her skin warm under my touch. The soft sounds she made when I slipped my fingers inside her—God, I shouldn't be thinking about this.

This was getting pathetic. Still. Saturday couldn't come fast enough.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: r&r reader)

I was late. Damn it, I was so late.

The emergency surgery had gone longer than expected—a complex arteriovenous malformation that refused to behave. By the time I closed, my hands were cramping and my neck was stiff from hours of hunching over the microscope. But the patient would live, and that's what mattered.

Still, as I rushed through the hospital parking lot, yanking off my scrub cap and shoving it in my pocket, I couldn't help but check my watch again. Two hours late. Shit. I'd texted her updates throughout, but still. Two hours.

The art exhibition was being held in some converted warehouse space downtown. Even from outside, I could see the warm light spilling onto the street through the large windows, hear the soft sound of voices and clinking glasses. I paused at the entrance, trying to catch my breath and compose myself.

That's when I spotted it—a small splash of red on my shirt sleeve, barely visible but unmistakably blood. Perfect. Because showing up late wasn't bad enough, I had to show up looking like I'd just walked off a crime scene.

I quickly shrugged my jacket back on, tugging the sleeves down to cover the stain. It would have to do.

She was standing alone near a large abstract painting, wine glass in hand, studying the canvas. Even in a room full of people, she seemed somehow apart from it all. The sight of her there all by herself felt like fingers wrapping around my heart.

"I am so, so sorry," I said as I approached, placing my hand on her lower back.

She turned, and the smile that lit up her face made my stomach flip. How could she look at me like that when I'd kept her waiting for two hours?

"Hey, you made it!" She didn't sound angry at all. If anything, she seemed genuinely happy to see me. It only made the guilt weigh heavier in my chest.

"I'm really sorry," I repeated, because apparently that's all I could say. "The surgery took longer than expected. There were complications and—"

"Did you save them?"

I blinked, caught off guard by the directness of her question. "Yes."

"Then stop apologizing." She took a sip of her wine, her eyes twinkling. "Besides, fashionably late is totally in right now."

"Two hours isn't fashionably late, it's just rude."

"It's your job," she said simply. "Saving lives tends to take priority over art exhibitions."

I watched her for a second longer, unsure how to react. "Have you been here alone this whole time?"

"Yeah, but it's fine," she said, waving off my concern. "I've actually had time to explore everything properly. Plus, the wine is decent."

Guilt twisted in my stomach. I pictured her wandering these halls alone, checking her phone for my updates, making awkward small talk with strangers. For two hours.

"I really am—"

"If you apologize one more time, I swear I’ll spill this wine on your jacket. And you know me—I don’t need much of an excuse to be clumsy." Before I could respond, her eyes narrowed, focusing on something near my collar. "Is that?"

I followed her gaze to where my jacket had shifted, revealing the telltale red stain. Damn it. I quickly tried to adjust my jacket, but she caught my arm, stopping me.

"Sorry," I muttered. "I'm a mess. I should have gone home to change first, but I didn't want to be any later than I already was."

"Hey," she said, leaning in conspiratorially, "if anyone asks, we'll just tell them it's paint. I mean, we are at an art exhibition. Who's going to look too closely?"

Despite myself, I laughed. "You'd make a terrible witness in court, you know that?"

"Good thing I'm going to be a lawyer then, not a witness." She grinned. "Come on, I want to show you my favorite pieces. And maybe we can find you a painting with enough red in it to stand near. You know, for cover."

I let her lead me through the gallery, and I found myself placing my hand on the small of her back. It was an unconscious gesture, one I immediately second-guessed, but she leaned into the touch slightly. So I let my hand stay where it was.

"You're not still feeling guilty about being late, are you?" she asked suddenly, glancing up at me.

"Maybe a little."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, stop it. Although—" She pretended to think for a moment. "You could make it up to me by buying me another glass of wine."

"Done," I said immediately. "Although maybe I shouldn't be encouraging drinking."

"Oh, now you're being a doctor again?"

"Force of habit."

She laughed, the sound warm and genuine, wrapping around me like summer rain. Dangerous, how easily I could get used to that sound. She led me further through the gallery, linking her arm through mine, chattering away about everything and nothing. 

It was fascinating how much she knew—not just about the art itself, but about the whole scene. She'd point to a painting and launch into stories about the artist's infamous feuds with gallery owners, or how someone's entire series was inspired by a bad breakup with another artist three rooms over. 

She knew every bit of gossip, every drama. Which curator was sleeping with which artist, which pieces were painted during mental breakdowns, which collections were secretly commentary on messy divorces. She made the plain white walls of the gallery come alive with her stories.

"Oh, and that guy over there?" She nodded discretely towards a man in an expensive-looking suit. "He's actually—"

I caught myself staring at her again, watching the way her eyes lit up as she spoke, the subtle changes in her expression as she moved from one story to the next. The way she'd lower her voice when sharing particularly bits of details, leaning closer to me like we were sharing secrets.

It was strange. I never knew that art was so... fun. Her excitement was contagious, and I found myself being pulled into her world without resistance.

"You're not even looking at the painting anymore," she accused, catching me staring at her instead of the canvas she was discussing.

"Sorry," I said, trying to focus on the painting she'd been discussing. "You were saying something about the use of negative space?"

She launched back into her explanation, describing techniques and influences I barely understood. But there was something captivating about her, the way she could find something fascinating in every piece, even the ones she claimed to hate.

I couldn't help myself. I had to ask.

"Why law?"

She blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "What?"

"You're clearly passionate about art. You know all these techniques, all this history. Why aren't you studying art instead of law?"

Her smile faltered slightly. "We've had this conversation before, remember? Stability, good career, making my parents proud—"

"But that's what your parents want. What do you want?"

She was quiet for a moment, her fingers playing with the stem of her wine glass. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, almost resigned. "It's not that simple."

"It could be."

She looked up at me then, something flashing in her eyes that might have been anger. "Says the successful neurosurgeon who followed his passion."

"That's different—"

"Is it?" She took a sip of wine and pulled her arm away from mine, the loss of contact unexpectedly cruel. "You chose medicine because you loved it, right? Because you couldn't imagine doing anything else?"

I thought about Satoru, about following his lead into neurosurgery, about all the complicated reasons behind my choices. "It's... not that simple either."

"Exactly." She gave me a knowing look. "Life rarely is."

We stood there in silence for a moment, both lost in thought. Around us, the gallery filled with the white noise of clinking glasses and polite laughter.

"I'm sorry," I began. "I shouldn't have said that."

She shook her head, loose strands of hair catching the light. "No, it's... you're not wrong to ask. It's just complicated." She paused, staring into her wine glass. My parents worked so hard to put me through school. Dad worked double shifts at the factory, Mom cleaned houses on weekends. They saved every penny they could."

"They were so proud when I got into law school," she continued, her voice softer now. "You should have seen their faces. Dad actually cried—I'd never seen him cry before. They threw this little party in our apartment, invited all the neighbors. Mom made this huge spread of food even though I know they couldn't really afford it."

She smiled at the memory, but there was something bittersweet in it. "They see law school as this—this ticket to a better life, you know? This chance for their daughter to have everything they couldn't give themselves. How could I tell them I'd rather spend my days covered in paint?"

"They sound like good parents."

"The best," she agreed. "That's why it's so hard. Every time I think about changing paths, I remember how much they've sacrificed. The hours they worked, the things they went without. Dad's still picking up extra shifts to help with my expenses, even though I tell him not to."

She turned to look at a nearby painting, but I could tell she wasn't really seeing it. "Sometimes I calculate how much they've invested in my education, down to the last yen. It feels like a responsibility, you know." A pause. "So I'm—acting. Playing dress-up in these fancy suits, pretending to care about corporate law and international trade agreements. But it's okay."

Her story settled like lead in my stomach. Here I was, someone who'd never had to watch his parents sacrifice anything, presuming to give advice about following dreams. And suddenly, I felt almost ashamed of my own privilege. 

I grew up never wanting for anything. My parents had well-paying jobs and valued education above all else. Private tutors, college prep courses, academic summer programs—they spared no expense in paving my path to success.

When I decided to go into medicine, my biggest concern had been whether I was doing it for myself or just following Satoru's lead. Not whether I could afford it. Not whether it would drain my family's savings.

I'd never had to work during university. Never had to count pennies for textbooks. Never had to weigh the cost of pursuing my dreams against my family's needs. The academic world had been my playground, every door already half-open. I feel so dump.

Sure, medical school had been demanding. The long hours of study, the grueling residency, the constant pressure to excel—but I'd never had to wonder if I could afford to chase my passion. Never had to choose between my dreams and my family's financial stability.

I lived in a nice apartment, drove a decent car, could afford my vices without a second thought. And here she was, brilliant and passionate, having to bury her dreams because she couldn't bear to waste her parents' years of hard work.

Looking at her now, in this gallery surrounded by art she understood so deeply, I could see the weight of those unrealized dreams in the way she held herself. In how her eyes lingered on each painting a bit too long, like she was trying to capture a piece of what could have been.

"I hope you get to paint someday," I said finally, the words feeling inadequate. "The way you want to. Not just alone in your apartment, but really paint. Show your work. Be the artist you clearly are inside."

She looked up at me, surprise flickering across her face. Then her gaze dropped to her wine glass, her fingers tightening around the stem. A strand of hair fell forward, and she pushed it back with unsure fingers.

"I mean it," I continued, resisting the urge to brush that stubborn strand of hair back myself. "Besides, who says you can't have both? Practice law until you're stable enough to pursue art. Or find a way to combine them—art law is a thing, isn't it?"

"You're awfully supportive, for someone who barely knows me," she said quietly, the words half-muffled by her wine glass.

"Is that such a bad thing?"

She shook her head, blinking rapidly. "No, I just... I'm not used to people understanding. Everyone else just talks about being practical, about growing up and facing reality. Like art is somehow childish."

The last words came out bitter, and without thinking, I reached out to touch her chin, tilting her face up to meet my gaze. Her skin was warm under my fingers, and I could feel her pulse flutter at the contact.

"Art isn't childish," I said firmly. "Neither is wanting to pursue something that you're passionate about. That's actually pretty brave."

Something shifted in her expression then, a softness I hadn't seen before. We stood there for a moment, her eyes locked with mine. That's when I finally realized I was still cupping her chin, my thumb absently brushing against her skin. I quickly dropped my hand.

"I really want to see them." The words slipped out before I could stop them. "Your paintings, I mean." 

It felt too intimate, too presumptuous. Like I was asking to see more than just her art, but something deeper, more personal. But she just smiled, a real smile this time, reaching up to tuck that persistent strand of hair behind her ear.

"Okay," she said. "If you promise not to judge too harshly."

"I already know they're great," I said softly, surprising myself with how much I meant it. "I don't know much about art, but I know they're great because you painted them." Then my phone buzzed in my pocket. My heart nearly stopped when I saw the caller ID.

I took an instinctive step back from her. "I'm sorry, I need to take this," I said, already bringing the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

There was silence on the other end, just soft breathing that I knew too well. Then, "Suguru?"

Something in her voice made my chest tighten. She sounded—lost. Different from her usual self. Gone was that fierce confidence, that spark that made her so much like Satoru. Instead, she sounded small, fragile.

"Hey," I said softly. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just—" A pause. "I don't even know why I'm calling."

Someone laughed loudly behind me. She must have heard it through the phone because she hesitated. "Sorry, are you out somewheret? I don't want to—"

"No, no," I said quickly, probably too quickly. "It's fine. Really. Talk to me. What's going on?"

I was painfully aware of the her standing nearby, pretending to study a painting while obviously trying not to listen. I caught her eye briefly, gesturing that I needed a moment. She nodded, with an understanding in her eyes that somehow made it worse.

I quickly made my way to the entrance where the coats hung, seeking somewhere quieter. She was quiet for so long I thought she might have hung up. Then, in a small voice that didn't sound like her at all, "Is he okay?"

I didn't need to ask who she meant.

"He's okay," I said, even though I wasn't really convincing either of us. "You know Satoru. He's managing."

A soft laugh, maybe a sob. "That could mean anything with him."

"No, really. He's okay," I lied. "I'm keeping an eye on him."

A pause then, "I'm being stupid, aren't I?"

"No," I said. "You're not being stupid. You're in love." The words hurt to say, but they were true. "That's never stupid."

Another shaky breath. "I shouldn't have called. You're out, and I'm here just—"

"Hey, do you need me?" I cut in. "I can bring you something. Coffee? Food? Those terrible convenience store onigiri you pretend not to like?"

That got a real laugh, albeit a watery one. "No, I'm... I'm actually at Maki's. She dragged me out. Said I needed to stop rotting in my apartment."

"Good. That's... that's good." I ran a hand through my hair, not quite believing her. I knew her too well by now, knew she was probably curled up alone in her apartment, just as I knew she knew I was lying about Satoru being okay. Strange, how we'd both gotten so comfortable with these little deceptions. "But the offer stands. Anytime."

"Thank you, Suguru." Her voice was softer now.

"Yeah," was all I could manage. I closed my eyes, pressing the phone harder against my ear as if I could somehow keep her there longer.  Each second of silence felt like another chance to say something, anything, to make this right. But what could I say? That I was sorry? That I missed her? That I thought about her every damn day?

"I should let you get back," she said. "To wherever you are. Sorry for—"

"Don't apologize. Not to me. Never to me."

I took a deep breath, briefly pulling the phone away from my ear because I couldn't trust my voice not to say what I desperately wanted to. Don't go. Stay on the line. Let me fix this. But I had no right to ask that of her. Not anymore. Maybe never did.

After we hung up, I stood there in the gallery's entrance, frozen. Around me, couples laughed and gathered their coats, heading out into the night. The door kept opening and closing, letting in bursts of cold air inside, reminding me I needed to move, needed to go back.

When I finally made my way back to her, she was studying the same stormy seascape from earlier. She didn't turn around immediately, giving me a moment to compose myself. Maybe it was some sort of kindness on her part.

She didn't ask about the call. Didn't question my sudden disappearance or the tension I knew was in every fiber of my being. Instead, she just glanced at me with a small smile that somehow made everything both better and worse, and said, "I think we've seen everything. Should we head out?"

The relief nearly knocked me sideways. "You sure? There's still the upper floor—"

"Please," she said. "I've been here for hours. I could probably give tours at this point."

I watched her gather her things, struck by how carefully she was moving around the weight of what had just happened. Like she understood something about me that I hadn't expected her to grasp. 

"You're awfully understanding, you know that?"

She looked up at me. "Something we have in common, it seems."

We walked to the exit in silence. I helped her into her coat, her fingers brushing mine as she adjusted her collar. Outside, the night air was sharp with the bite of early autumn. She pulled her coat tighter around herself.

"I can call you a taxi," I offered.

"Actually," she said, "I think I'll walk." She looked up at the sky, where a few stubborn stars managed to shine through Tokyo's light pollution. "It's not far, and it's a nice night."

"Not a chance," I said, already pulling out my phone. "It's late."

"I'm a big girl, you know. I can handle myself."

"I'm sure you can," I replied, already dialing the taxi company. "But humor your doctor, will you?"

She rolled her eyes but didn't protest further. While we waited for the taxi, she stood close enough that I could smell her perfume, something light and floral, while I tried to ignore the guilt for leaving the exhibition early, guilt for being late, guilt for enjoying myself despite everything else.

"Thank you," I said suddenly. "For tonight."

"No problem, doc," she said with a warm smile. "Next time, maybe we can finish looking at the art."

"Next time," I echoed, like a promise I wasn't sure I should be making. The taxi pulled up, its yellow light cutting through the darkness. I opened the door for her. 

She turned before getting in, looking back over her shoulder. "Oh, and Suguru?" The use of my first name sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. "Don't overthink everything tonight, okay?"

I watched the taxi disappear into the flow of traffic, its red taillights blending with all the other lights of the city. Only then did I pull out my cigarettes, lighting one with slightly shaking hands. The night felt colder without her presence.

I took a long drag, watching the smoke disappear into the night air, then started walking in the opposite direction, no real destination in mind, just a vague hope that if I walked long enough, the conflicting feelings churning inside me might fade away. 

The city lights blurred around me, and somewhere in the distance, I could hear the last trains of the night rumbling through their stations.

Next time, she'd said. 

God help me, but I was already looking forward to it.

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

author's note — hello again! i hope you enjoyed this chapter from suguru's pov. i'm sorry for the lack of updates lately, university life and low motivation can be a real challenge. but i'd love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a comment or send in a message. i love to read them <3

& i hope his pov didn’t break your heart too much, especially with his and satoru’s spiraling friendship. also, this chapter ties back to ch 14 of symptoms and causes, for those who are following along.

pls consider subscribing to the story on ao3 or turning on notifications for my blog for furute updates (i've given up on taglists, to be honest).

and as always, thanks for reading, and i wish you all the best, whether you're reading this in the middle of the day or late at night :))

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

[stuffyflowers]

finally refined my amalgamate kanako take a little bit. was gonna annotate my thoughts on the image but i hate making compositions lol, so ill just talk below the cut in a semi-ramble. enjoy!

she is fused with a few other dunes monsters. when she woke up in the lab without her mother, i feel like she wouldve latched onto the most familiar looking monsters for some semblance of comfort and spent the most time with them before... everything went wrong. if you haven't guessed already, they are:

a dunebud (eyes)

a cactus monster (back spikes)

a monster of the same species as bryan (guy you give the hard hat to in the mines) (general long body, arms, slug-like tail)

(i would like to give each of them more defined individual personalities/names/etc at some point too, but i havent settled on anything yet. stay tuned for that if you want i guess)

much like how crystal (snowdrakes mum) seems to be the 'main' host in her amalgamate, kanako has the most control in this amalgamate (probably something to do with her having a stronger soul than most monsters). when this is the case, the left side of the face is visible and the left ear perks up. when one (or several) of the other monsters are fronting, this occurs for the right side instead.

for anyone who didnt know, the uty devs confirmed they intended for kanako to be the spoon amalgamate who tucks frisk in, which my take on her is inspired by. when she starts to lose memories of her old self as all the amalgamates do, she holds onto the faint memory of ceroba tucking her into bed. one of her daily routines in the lab is neatly making every bed until one of the others makes a mess of it, then rinse and repeat. again and again.

like how frisk helps the other amalgamates remember their old lives through acts, they help kanako remember her mother more clearly when they hop onto the bed, hence why she fondly pats their head as she can now remember ceroba doing after tucking her in every night.

the unfortunate side effect of her regaining a large chunk of her memory is that her guilt over 'failing' the experiment resurfaces, and she convinces herself that her mother wouldnt want to see her, even if they were ever allowed to go free. she ends up being the last amalgamate alphys reunites with their families, it takes a lot of convincing from her as well as the other parts of kanako that want to see their families to get her to leave the lab.

to keep it short, kanako and cerobas bond after the barrier breaks starts off a little rocky. ceroba is of course overjoyed kanako is alive, though it does take her a long while to get used to her being made up of three other monsters. they both still have feelings of immense guilt towards each other due to the incident that got them in this situation to begin with, which also takes a long time to smooth out. regardless, they are both doing their best to move forward and make the most of the second chances theyve both been given.

[whiskeyghoul]

Pt2. || She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!Reader]

Read part 1 here

Read part 3 here

A/N: OMG I can’t believe how much people enjoyed part 1? Seriously, as I am finishing this part up it has reached over 500 notes, I am shocked and so very thankful for the love. I didn’t expect it. A silly little fic not proof read, totally self indulgent, really this is so wonderful and I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to read it and reblog, like or comment on it. I hope part 2 doesn’t disappoint. Part 3 is going to be here soon too, which will be the unofficial date.

WC: 1,9K ~

Tags: Fluff, just fluff, Spencer is a flustered mess, Alt!Reader, Goth!Reader, 2 idiots flirting, Reader and Penelope are besties, use of Y/N, Penelope has been playing matchmaker, alluding to a date, crushes.

Warnings: None. 

Your pov.

It was a late Sunday afternoon. You were sitting on Penelope Garcia’s couch, cup of hot tea in hand. Legs curled up on the couch with a colorful blanket over your lap. It clashed just ever so slightly with your dark outfit. The two of you are in complete contrast to each other. Penelope was a ball of color in a bright purple dress with a lemon pattern, large yellow earrings and a blue bolero sweater. Compared to your all black ensemble she was a ray of sunshine. An array of snacks spread out over the coffee table. The aforementioned peppy blonde was sitting next to you on the couch. Deeply engrossed with the romance show playing on the TV. You watched it together every Sunday, when a new episode would come out. Today your mind was somewhere else completely.

“He hasn’t called yet.” You spoke up. Penelope eyed you curiously, “Who?” She asked, her focus gone from the show. Her eyes peered at you with interest from behind the cat eye glasses she had picked out that day. “Doctor Reid.” You turned your head back to the TV casually, trying to not seem bothered. You could hear Penelope hold back a small squeal. It sounded more like a gasp that way. “Oh my god! Are you interested in him? What did he do to impress you? I have been trying to set you up for ages! You have shot down any person I have discussed with you. Always something wrong.” She started rambling, hearing the clink of her glass being put on the coffee table. Her hands grabbed yours, making you look back at her and rolling your eyes. “Firstly: I am not ‘interested’ in him. Secondly: I just thought he would have called by now. Or stopped by at least.” You shrugged noncommittally. You were just a little interested. Thinking back to that meeting.

When Spencer had stepped into the lab earlier that week, courtesy of Penelope, you had found his awkward demeanor endearing. He was hot, that was for sure, and tall, you remembered having to look up at him, Those dark brown eyes pinning you in place. Especially when you had stood so close together. You had wanted to tease him after watching him stumble over his sentences. See him even more flustered. It made you somewhat excited. When you had given him your number you could feel his pulse racing under his skin. He had shown many signs of being interested yet he hadn’t even texted you. It made you rethink the interaction. 

“Well, he couldn’t have stopped by. They got called on a case in Utah so he’s not really in the area right now.” Penelope clarified. Those words put your mind at ease more than you expected them to. “Oh, I guess he can’t really get to the lab then.” You shrugged. Just a little disappointed but feeling relieved that apparently he hadn’t meant to not visit you. Or maybe he had done so on purpose if he would be close. Your earlier relief was replaced by a mild panic again. Trying to convince yourself you weren’t interested in Dr. Reid. Although, he could have texted.

You could practically feel Penelope smirk as you turned your attention back on the TV. Unable to focus but pretending to. “Spence is not one for texting. He probably has been getting to the hotel at ungodly hours and hasn’t had time to call.” it was like she could read your mind. “Don’t do that.” You said with a shudder. “Do what?” Penelope questioned innocently. “Read my mind like that. It’s weird.” You answered, making her laugh. “Just goes to show how well I know you.” She answered with a smile. It was true. She knew you too well you would even argue. The fact both of you were women in a male dominated field, both dressed eccentricly, and both with a passion for cheesy movies and tv shows. It was only a matter of time until you were best friends after your first run in.

Your phone, which was placed on the table, lit up at that moment. The ringtone played at a high volume, making the cure blast through the room. Your eyes quickly flickered to the screen. Caller ID unknown. You picked up the phone, hesitant of the unknown caller, deciding to hang up instead. You had been plagued by telemarketers for the past month and really didn’t want to deal with that right now. If it was important they would call again. And they did, you still had your phone in your hands when it went off again. “Just pick it up! I will keep watch over our show, fill you in later.” Penelope said, motioning her hands for you to get up. You got off the couch, soft blanket falling to the ground as you picked up the phone. Softly padding away to the kitchen to be out of earshot of Penelope. “Y/n speaking.” you answered, waiting to hear from the other end of the line.

“Hey… ehm… is this not the right time? Are you busy?” The voice on the other end of the line made you straighten up slightly in surprise. “Doctor Reid.” You breathe out his name quietly, adding a “Now is a perfectly good time.” to your sentence. Wondering how hearing his voice through the slightly tin-like phone speaker made you feel a little flutter in your stomach. “Good… I didn’t want to bother you. You can just call me Spencer by the way. Doctor sounds too formal. I just introduce myself like that. It’s a habit. I don’t call you Doctor L/n either. So call me Spencer.” He started rambling. A smile spread across your lips, this rambly version was different from how speechless he had been in the lab. You held back a giggle. Apparently you had rendered him speechless in the lab. “Alright, Spencer.” You answered, the humor in your voice apparent. His breath hitched a little on the other side of the line. 

“Why did you call?” You asked, trying to continue on without dawdling. “Oh eh, the report, I ehm…” He was quiet for a moment. It crossed your mind that maybe he didn’t need to speak with you, but he wanted to. “Yes?” You urged after a silence had fallen on the other side of the phone line. There was an intake of breath from Spencer, a moment that signaled he might be trying to raise some courage. “I didn’t want to talk about the report.” He finally spoke. It made you smile, your cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “Oh, well then what did you want to talk about?” You added a bit of playfulness in your tone. You pictured him, holding the phone to his ears that were tipped red. His face was probably just as flushed as it had been in the lab. 

“I ehm- I haven’t been able to focus, on the case that is. Because I keep thinking about the lab. How I probably came off as a mess, I just didn’t know what to say because you looked so… Not that you look bad because you don’t, you looked really nice. Emily says my IQ gets slashed down to 68 when I am around pretty girls. I wanted to make a good impression. I couldn’t find the words though. I usually don’t make great first impressions, because I tend to ramble. Just- I really really hope I didn’t make a bad first impression.” His sentences flowed into each other like word vomit. Nervous, quick, and hardly understandable. Luckily, you were trained in the art of understanding nervous rambles when Penelope would spiral into one from time to time. However he had called you pretty. “Spencer.” You said his name almost like a question. There was a beat of silence. “Yes?” He asked softly, he sounded so nervous.

“You didn’t make a bad impression. I gave you my number for a reason.” You told him with a smile, a little giddy as the words ‘he called me pretty’ kept bouncing around your head. “And I am sorry I called without any real reason to… I know it was for talking about the report. Though Morgan tried to convince me it wasn’t.” Spencer answered. You rolled your eyes at that. Ofcourse, this hyper intelligent man would mix up what you were trying to do. “I gave you my number because I wanted you to call me. Not about the report. I just wanted you to call me. About anything.” There was apparently a need to clear up that confusion. It was silent for another moment. “Oh.” It was like realization dawned on him. “So I should have called sooner, right?” His question made you laugh softly, trying not to clue in Penelope on your call.  “Yes, you should have. Or could have at least. I was waiting.” You answered back, smiling at the ground. You fidgeted with one of the large rings on your free hand, twisting the cool metal round with your thumb.

“I’m sorry I didn’t.” You could almost hear the smile in his voice. The slight uptick in his pitch. You imagined he was still fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater, or was perhaps looking at his shoes with a grin. “You can make it up to me by buying me a coffee when you get back.” The suggestion came naturally, you didn’t even have to think about it. The words left your lips before you could, really. “What do you like?” Spencer asked without hesitation. “Cinnamon latte.” You answered it softly, a little surprised he agreed so readily. A giddy feeling in your stomach. “Alright, cinnamon latte, I’ll remember.” Spencer sounded a little breathy, like he too was feeling giddy at the prospects of having coffee together. Like the idea of taking time to get to know each other at work over a warm beverage was the perfect first date. “What do you like?” You asked in turn, wanting to know what he would usually get. Knowing more about him would feel so domestic and sweet. “Black coffee, usually with tons of sugar.” He had a hint of embarrassment in your voice. A little muffled like he had covered his mouth to hold in the confession of drinking it so sweet. You smiled at his answer. Of course he had a sweet tooth. “Tons of sugar, I’ll remember.” You mirrored his words. 

“Oh! My! God!” You heard Penelope gasp from the living room. Knocking you out of your little phone call bubble with Spencer. “I think I have to go. You better call me tomorrow.” You said it lightheartedly. Just wanting to hear from him again soon. “I will. I’ll call you.” Spencer answered. “Bye Spencer.” “Bye Y/n.” You hung up with a smile, already turning and walking back into the living room. Penelope turned around on the couch to look at you, “They shot Richard!” She looked absolutely shocked as she gave you the news of your favorite character being hurt. You couldn’t wipe the smile from your face though. “Spencer called.” You saw her face form from a shocked to surprise expression, “Oh! My! God!” She sounded a lot happier that time, and you knew you wouldn't hear the end of it.

[slushycoookie]

Kinktober Day 23 ~ Pegging

Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader

Summary: After another thing goes wrong in Spider Society, you help him not worry about it anymore.

A/N: I need to write about messing with that Miguel booty more often. Enjoy!

Prev *✧･ﾟ: Next Kinktober '24 Masterlist

“He’s at it again.”

Jess says to you when you two stand in front of his lab. You can already hear stuff being thrown around, the angry growls of your husband resonating across the room.

“Uh, what happened this time?”

“We didn’t meet our quota of anomalies this quarter. I told Miguel it's stupid that we're tracking how many anomalies we grab, but he wants to make sure we're efficient.”

Another crash is heard, paired with an exhausted growl.

“Are we…not efficient?”

“We were off by one.” You can see how that would upset Miguel. He’s always particular, wanting to make sure things go the way he expects them to. “Time for you to go play ‘wife’!”

Jess waves you away when you disappear into the darkness of his lab. The throwing noises stops to your relief. All you saw is your husband fuming, arms folded with prominent frown lines across his forehead. He’s still cute when he’s angry.

“So…we’re only one off.”

Miguel throws his hands up, “I thought we were on track this quarter! Somebody screwed up and missed one or maybe didn't file a report or-”

The platform moves from a button press on your watch. You step up to take his hand, squeezing it.

“It's okay. We have another quarter.”

“Even if we make next quarter's goal, we'll still be off.”

Miguel’s arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest. His chin resting on the top of your head. At least he wasn't throwing things now.

“You know what I can do to help?” He hums, waiting for you to continue. “You haven't gotten that special thing in a while…”

“What special thing-oh.”

You know Miguel is getting flushed at your unexpected offer. You aren't sure why he gets embarrassed since he likes it so much.

“Can we do that tonight?”

“Yes, we can.” While parting you place your thumb and index finger on his cheeks, squeezing it a bit before giving his lips a quick peck.

Later that night, you pull out your tools, lying them on the bed as if you are about to do a medical procedure. Miguel’s naked self lying on the sheets, crimson eyes watching your every move. His cock standing hard and proud for you.

You hold up the red dildo shining bright in the bedroom light. You effortlessly put the strap on, as if you've done this hundreds of times. Before, you felt silly with it dangling in front of you. Now, you can definitely see the appeal.

“What does my baby prefer?” You climb on the bed, making the bed dip. “Missionary or doggy?”

“Missionary…”

Your eyes flicker with intrigue. Miguel hardly asks for missionary. That one anomaly off must've really affected him.

“I get to see your handsome face while I fuck you.” You stroke his cheek and he leans into it, desperation filling his eyes.

To make sure he's ready, you pour some lube on your finger.

Miguel gasps when you insert a digit in his hole, feeling how tight it is around you.

“Relax for me.” You lean forward, the fake cock brushing against his. Miguel’s tense muscles start to relax from your touch. How you're pumping in and out of him, not having much resistance.

“Good. Good job.”

Cum leaks from his tip and you reward him by sucking it off. Licking your lips while humming at the taste. Miguel whimpers while you keep fingering him, eyes lowered. You think he's ready enough so you add a second finger. He shifts at the sensation.

“How does that feel, Miggy?”

Miguel struggles to say anything coherent, “G-Good. Really good…”

It's been a while since you've fucked him. By the way his cock twitched, you know once you slide into him, he's practically gone. But this is to make your man feel better.

“I think you're ready…”

You pull out your fingers then get in between his legs. Miguel’s relieved expression made your core burn up. How submissive he is in this moment, you wanted to take a picture. You line yourself up with him. Your eyes on your husband’s face when you push inside him.

The way his eyes flutter, mouth agape, made your cunt squeeze. His groan much deserved while he grips the pillows. You ignore the tears, knowing you have a bunch of pillows on standby.

“O-Oh, oh s-shock…”

More cum trails down his shaft as he's taking your fake cock in perfectly. His eyes closed tight, chest heaving to not orgasm right now.

“You should look at me…” You put your hips back, causing a long, drawn out moan from him. “Don’t you wanna see how good I'm fucking you?”

Miguel’s eyes open, enough to see you slowly thrust into him. The red dildo disappearing inside him with ease. Your breasts moving in tandem with your movements.

“It's…it's too much.” Miguel moves, but he doesn't go anywhere. You hit a spot along his prostate that causes him to choke. You're starting to see stuffing in your line of vision.

“You know what the safe word is.”

You give a sharp thrust and his eyes roll back. Miguel’s abdomen clenching, sweat clinging on to his skin. He's so pretty when he's not in control. You lean down to kiss him. At the same time, your thrusts pick up speed, your thighs hitting the back of his own. His groans fill your mouth. Your tongue rubbing against his in an opposite pace of your thrusts.

Your stomach starts getting sticky from his leaking tip. You're continuing to pound into his walls, bumping against that nice little spot. Over and over and over again. Miguel starts gasping in your mouth, cotton all around, sticking to his skin and yours.

“I'm…I'm!”

A silent cry to escapes your husband. White, sticky cum covering his abs and your stomach. You don't stop your thrusts, wondering what it feels like having him squeeze around the toy. Miguel cums so much it trails down and stain the sheets.

For a moment, Miguel doesn't move. Your heartbeat picking up in worry. His eyes flicker and you sigh of relief. You pull out, him giving one last whimper.

After removing the strap, you get a piece of cotton away from his forehead, cupping his face.

“You okay?” You see him barely nod, mustering up the strength for a small smile. You give him a kiss before starting the routine of getting rid of your torn pillows.

Tags:

@fandomfics @freythecrazyfae @maddyperezzzsstuff

@mynamesstevenwithav @eyes-ofhell @maxad99

@howlingco @cherrypieyourface @snails-doodles22

@siren-141 @nega-omega @sweetimpurity

@hehekittyhawk @spencerswh0r3 @saintdiior

@maliaofthevalley @wolverigrl @pigeonmama

@shybluebirdninja @tomie-it-girl @antishadow2021

@honey-and-olives @hyjionie @smokeywhalee

[berry-potchy]

Indulge Me

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader Rating: Explicit (18+ only please) Word Count: 7,072 Summary: You're a Spiderwoman who has ended up pinned underneath Miguel O'Hara in his lab one too many times. You're not sure what you are to him or what to call your relationship. And that would've been fine until your neediness kicked in and made you catch feelings. Surely, Miguel taking you to his room for the first time means something right? In which your lack of understanding of Spanish and denial of the hints Miguel drops are keeping you from realizing you already have what you want. Tags/warnings: pwp, p in v sex, rough sex, praise + light degradation, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, face sitting/riding, breeding kink, soft dom!Miguel, needy reader, recording, mirror sex adjacent, implied chubby reader, undefined relationship but soft feelings sprinkled in there as a treat, no use of y/n so lots of Spanish nicknames to make up for it, reader does not understand Spanish, brief sexy use of spider webs A/N: this is quite literally just a self-indulgent fic with most of my favorite Miguel x reader flavors. Not beta read but I hope you still enjoy it! (Translations are the end!)

Also on AO3

Edit: turns out some parts got messed up while I was posting here on Tumblr D: it's fine on AO3 though which is weird because I copied from this post instead of my doc because this has the correct spacing. Everything should be fixed now.

•🕷️────✧˖°˖🕸️˖°˖✧────🕷️•

Miguel has you standing in front of him between his parted legs as he sits on the edge of his bed. Even in this position, you were barely any much taller than him, only needing to tilt your head a bit to meet his red eyes. He looks at you from your face, down to the swell of your breast where his eyes are joined by a taloned finger on its journey downwards. You can’t help but let out a soft sigh as the sharp talon cuts through your spandex suit, fully exposing your soft chest to the cold air of his quarters. He would argue that the stretchy translucent mesh with a spiderweb lace design on your chest area didn’t do shit to cover the fullness of your tits anyway so he didn't understand why you even bothered with it. It was for style obviously but riling up Miguel O’Hara was a great bonus. You let out a shaky breath as he continued further down until he stopped right below your navel.

“Que linda,” he says in that low sexy voice of his, very different from the usual grumpy tone he uses to chastise you. He snakes his arms around your hips, bringing you closer to him and his hands find your plush bottom, giving them a rough squeeze. You are getting so worked up by how much attention you are getting from your usually sulky boss. Your heaving chest is right in front of Miguel’s face and his lustful gaze almost feels like it is burning you. The heat spreads from your chest downwards until it pools in the pit of your stomach and between your legs.

“You ruined my suit,” you pout, not really that upset about it. You think it was hot honestly but you just want to tease him “Am I supposed to go on missions with my whole chest out now? Walk around the HQ flashing everyone?”

“Of course not,” he says, rolling his eyes. He continues to take in your figure, hands gently kneading soft flesh on your sides “I’m making you a new suit. Should be done very soon. It'll be the same design but it will offer far more protection than this flimsy thing.”

“Making me a suit just like yours? What so you can control it hm? Deactivate it whenever you want to fuck me?” You laugh, wiping the imaginary tear in your eye until you realize Miguel is silent and looks like he’s been caught red-handed. You lightly slap him on his arm, flustered. “You’re a pervert, you know that?”

Instead of answering you, he brings his head forward to close his lips on a clothed nipple, his tongue flicking the sensitive erect bud. Your mouth opens as you let out a soft gasp at the sensation and you can feel the corner of Miguel’s lips twitch into a slight smirk. He teases your nipple alternating between flicking it with the tip of his tongue and giving it an audible suck. He pulls away for a split second only to give the same attention to your other nipple. You weave your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your tits. Your other hand is holding onto his shoulder for support as you urge him to keep going with your whimpers. His hands haven’t stopped exploring your body. His wide hands warm against your hips, ass, thighs, everywhere he can touch, squeezing your softness, committing every curve to memory.

“Migueeeel,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together to try to relieve the ache between your legs. You appreciate the attention to your nipples but your cunt was throbbing with need. You are so close to ripping the rest of your suit and panties off because the way the fabric is sticking to your wet pussy is becoming too uncomfortable.

“Miguel what, muñeca?” He pulls away, licking his lips. Those red eyes are now looking straight into yours and you feel yourself shiver. You try to look away but Miguel grabs your chin to keep you facing him. “Eyes on me. What do you want? Use your words.”

“Please,” your cheeks burn in embarrassment but Miguel just raised an eyebrow at you, unamused. “Stop teasing please.”

“Ah I see okay,” he says, taking his hands off you before standing up and walking to his closet.

“W-wait what are you doing?” you almost trip on your feet, knees feeling weak, as you chase after him. You grab his arm, tugging at it to get his attention as you pathetically look up at him.

“You said stop teasing so I’m getting you a shirt so you can go back to your world and get some rest,” he says as he looks through the neatly folded shirts in his closet. He’s stalling, pretending he was trying to choose one but he’s messing with you. There is no way he would let you go home tonight without getting at least a couple of orgasms wrung out of you. You aren’t leaving until he made sure you were stuffed full and dripping with his cum. You aren’t leaving tonight. Period. He knew you were too far gone with lust to figure that out yourself.

“Miggy, that’s not what I meant please,” you sob, pressing your body against him. Just the thought of being left unsatisfied was painful. “Please, Miggy, I need your mouth. And your cock please”

He finally looks at you and pulls you closer to him by your waist. You run your hands along his still clothed chest, feeling his heart beating with yours. You look up at him with glassy eyes, begging him to finish what he started. He coos at how desperate you were for release.

“You want my mouth and my cock?” he hums, still teasing. He easily lifts you up with one arm supporting your ass to carry you back to his bed. He’s carried you multiple times before but it never ceases to amaze you how he does it so effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, hips bucking trying to get some friction against your still unfortunately clothed cunt. “Where do you want them, muñeca? You have to be more specific. Which one do you want first?”

“On my pussy, please. I need your mouth on my pussy. Miggy, I wanna cum on your face” you sobbed against his neck “And then- and then I want you to fuck me. I want you to fill me up with your cock. Only you can fill me up so good, Miggy. I need it.”

“Good girl,” he whispers right next to your ear, making you shudder “Now, was that so hard to do? Was it hard to tell me what you wanted?”

“Yes!” you bite his shoulder and you feel satisfaction when you hear him break character and snort. He shakes his head, smiling fondly while he sets you down on the bed.

"Qué voy a hacer contigo?" he brings his lips to your temple to whisper more softly "Qué haría sin ti?"

Your heart skips a beat at the gentleness of his tone. You’re not sure what he said but the genuine affection is evident. Intimate moments like this with Miguel are slowly becoming more and more frequent and you decide that you don’t mind it. You even crave it now. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you lean further toward him.

He pulls away but the fond look on his face doesn’t waver. He slaps your thigh, making the soft fat jiggle just how he likes it, as he moves to get settled in his bed.

“Put those lovely hips and thighs to use and ride my face, conejita.” He lies down, anticipating, patting his chest to encourage you to sit down.

You didn't need to be told twice. You rip off the rest of your suit, your heated skin meeting the cold air of his room making your nipples pebble painfully. You quickly take off your panties and toss them aside with your ruined suit. You squeal as you scramble to get on top of him. You position yourself on top of his waiting mouth, straddling his face but just hovering over his face, hands on the headboard to keep yourself steady. The smell of your arousal is almost too much for Miguel to bear at this proximity. The urge to lock you in his room for the next few days and not let you out until you’re thoroughly fucked and bred is getting hard to ignore. His fangs extend as his animalistic urges surface, yearning to bite you and mark you as his.

“Are you trying to tease me now? How can you ride my face if you don’t sit?” Miguel’s tone is deeper than it was just a second ago. There’s a certain roughness to it, a growl in his voice that makes your hole clench around nothing. He grips your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh, waiting for you to sit down or he’ll make you. He’s trying to be patient, turning his head a little to mouth at the fat of your inner thigh. He licks a stray trail of your slick up your thigh, stopping just a breath away from where you both want his mouth to be. You feel him sigh, savoring your taste like he just drank the finest nectar, a promise of what’s to come.

“But Miguel–” you yelp when he suddenly pulls you down by your thighs and you immediately feel his tongue lapping at your aching cunt, his nose bumping deliciously against your swollen clit. He wasn’t going to hear your excuses. The only things he wants to hear coming out of your pretty lips are your moans and whines for more. The way Miguel is sucking and devouring your wetness so eagerly makes your head spin and your grip on the headboard tighten to steady yourself for a moment. He teases your hole, licking around the small opening before plunging in as far as he can, feeling you clench around his tongue. He grows impatient at your lack of movement and starts rocking you back and forth on his face by himself. He flattens his tongue for you to grind your pretty folds onto.

“Miggy, feels so good,” you whine, bending over to look at him from under you. He’s so pretty like this, forehead scrunched up from how focused he is eating you out, and when you get a peak of his nose and his cheeks, they’re shiny from being soaked by a combination of your wetness and his own spit. You take one of your shaking hands off the headboard to brush the hair away from Miguel’s forehead only for him to guide your hand into a fist, grabbing his hair, urging you to use it as leverage to ride his face harder. And who are you to say no to that?

You move your hips to try to match the pace he set for you, your thighs burn but you pay it no mind. Not when you feel that familiar delicious knot forming in your core. Your head lolls to the side and your eyes screwed shut as you immerse in the pleasure, grinding your cunt harder on Miguel’s tongue, nose, chin, anywhere you can get some friction, getting desperate to reach your orgasm.

“‘M gonna cum, Miggy. Gonn’ cum on your face” you whimper. You take your hand off the headboard and bring it to your tits, squeezing them, pinching at rubbing circles on your pebbled nipples. Miguel doesn’t stop lapping hungrily at your pussy, shaking his head from side to side as much as your grip on his hair allows. He groans as he watches in awe as you chase your own pleasure.

So close.

You’re so close you swear you can almost taste it.

Miguel could tell from how your hips stuttered and your pace growing frantic, rougher. He gives your clit another suck and that finally pushes you over the edge.

You feel the sweet release consume you like wildfire, your body tensing, back arching, toes curling. You can’t even hear yourself scream Miguel’s name, curling into yourself as he continues to suck on your oversensitive, pulsating clit. His hands held your shaking thighs steady, not letting you close them. It’s all too much.

“Miggyyy,” you sob pathetically, pawing at his head and his grip on you. You finally manage to pry an eye open only to see him watching you intently “Too much. I can’t-”

He doesn’t stop. He continues to lick stripes at your puffy folds and flick the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue albeit slower this time. He takes one of his hands away from your thigh and plunges two of his thick fingers knuckle deep inside your needy hole. He manages to find your sweet cushiony spot and puts enough pressure on it to make you see stars. That burning hot coil is back just mere seconds after your climax and if you could think at that moment, you’d think it’s unfair how he seems to know your body too well, knows just where to touch to make you unravel.

He adds another finger into your cunt, stretching you out for his cock, curling them inside you, and hitting your sweet spot over and over again. You know that it’s not enough, that it’s nothing compared to what’s coming for you. No matter how much prep you do it's going to be a tight fit and you can’t wait to be stretched to your limits once more. You stop fighting him, needing to chase after your orgasm, grinding your clit again on his tongue as he pumps his fingers in and out of your slutty hole.

Soon enough, you feel your second orgasm wash over you. You spill over his face, making a mess on his pillows and bedsheets. Your limbs go numb and this time you can’t even form words, just sobbing, babbling nonsense as your body shakes on top of Miguel. You would’ve fallen over if it wasn't for Miguel supporting your back with his free hand. You frantically tap his hand as you hiccup a pathetic “no more.”

Miguel relents and lets you catch your breath for a second. He kisses your puffy cunt one more time before moving you to lie on your back on the bed. He lifts your head to turn over the soiled pillow and fluff it up before getting you settled comfortably. You watch as he catches the dripping wetness from his chin with his equally soaked fingers and sticks them into his mouth, eyes rolling back and moaning at your sweet taste. You feel your cunt throb at the lewd action and you can’t help but let out a needy whimper from the back of your throat. It’s so unfair how much he affects you.

“Ay, pobrecita,” he coos at your flushed face with fat tears running down your cheeks as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and settles between your parted legs. “too much for mi conejita to handle? I know you can take more. Your pussy is so slutty, isn’t she? So needy. I doubt two orgasms is enough.”

He cups your face with one hand, thumb wiping away a tear on your cheek, his other hand brushing your hair away from your face, knowing how much you hate the feeling of it sticking to your skin. Your lower lip is jutting out in an adorable pout that he can’t help but kiss, catching your lip between his teeth. You scrunch up your nose and push his face away as you try to steady your breath.

You can see his naked chest rise and fall faster than usual, his mouth open to catch his own breath. You didn’t even notice when he disabled his suit but your eyes are thankful as you drink in the sight of his warm brown skin, stretching across the expanse of his unfairly defined body. He looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves, taking extra care to give him the most perfect proportions. How lucky are you to see this masterpiece up close? It would be a sin to not enjoy the view.

Your eyes trail down from his strong broad shoulders to his massive tits, and even further down to see his cock standing up proudly against his navel, the head dripping beads of precum and smearing it against his abs. Pride blooms in your chest as you realize that he’s just as affected as you are.

Your throat suddenly feels so empty. You lick your lips as you tear your eyes off his cock to look up at his face only to find his hungry gaze meeting yours. His eyes glint with danger as he takes in the sight of you in your post-orgasm haze, seemingly plotting his next move.

You didn’t have to wait long because, of course, he can’t keep his hands away from you.

He moves closer, making you spread your legs further. His hands grab at the back of your thighs to push them towards your torso, your knees almost touching your chest. Your dripping cunt twitches as it’s exposed to the cold air. Your hole clenching on nothing, begging to be filled.

“Que rico. Podría acostumbrarme a esto,” he says, his voice deep and rough with lust as his hands rub up and down your thighs, squeezing, feeling you. He drinks up the sight of you, so bare and exposed, all for him to take. “I could watch you like this all day. Maybe take a video of you right now so I can watch your pretty cunt pulsing, crying for me, anytime I want. Or…”

He takes his cock in one hand, running his thumb on the swollen tip to spread the beads of precum around, pumping his shaft with a few languid strokes. You yelp when he slaps his thick, heavy cock against your puffy folds.

“I could tie you up like this and keep you here for my own pleasure.” He starts moving his hips at a torturously slow pace, sliding his length along your wet folds, getting it lubricated by your own slick. He brings his hands back to your thighs and pushes them even further until you’re practically folded in half. “Keep you here to breed. Fill you up with so much cum and you’ll stay like this so it will surely take, yeah?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Miggy” you hiss as the tip of his cock keeps bumping into your throbbing clit “What’s stopping you from doing so huh? You have your web and your little surveillance bots. Put them to good use.”

“Of course, you’d love that, my pretty little slut,” he chuckles, shaking his head as he lines up the tip of his cock with your hole. Your eyelids flutter as you hold your breath in anticipation, waiting for that delicious stretch of being filled by his massive cock.

“Eyes on me, cariño,” he commands and you obey, looking up at him from under your lashes “That’s it, good girl.”

He starts to slowly press his cock into your greedy hole. Inch by inch, he sinks in, knocking the air out of your lungs. Midway, maybe, you can’t tell, there’s just so much of him, you start to feel a little faint, your shoulders tense and your mouth stuck hanging open. You feel so full of him, almost like he’s going to split you apart.

“Breathe for me,” he coos as he slowly presses more of him into you, filling you up more than what should be possible. He drapes your legs over his shoulders, his chest pressing against the back of your thighs as he uses his now free hands to cradle your face. You suck in a breath as he instructed and try to even out your breathing. “There you go. Keep breathing. Relax for me. Thaaat’s it. My sweet girl. So good for me.”

You preen at his words, warmth flooding your chest and going straight down to your pussy. His hands stay on your cheeks, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he pushes the last few inches in. You put your hands on top of his as you lean into his touch. He starts to grind his hips slowly, gently, getting you used to his size. The coarse dark curls at the base of his cock tickle your sensitive clit and the head of his cock softly probing at your cervix makes you roll your eyes back and whimper from the fullness.

“Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces, cariño,” he leans in to capture your lips into a deep kiss. Soft and gentle until both of you wanted more. One of his hands finds the back of your neck to tilt your head as he pleases as he tries to devour you. His tongue licks into your mouth and his fangs graze your lips with every movement. You hum against his lips as you feel him start to pull his hips back, letting his dick slide halfway out before snapping his hips forward to plunge himself back inside, his balls lewdly smacking against your ass. And he keeps doing it over, and over again making you moan oh so wantonly.

“Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor,” he whispers against your lips. The breathlessness and the hint of desperation for release in his voice make you shiver. His pace picks up, thrusts growing rougher with it. The wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you and skin slapping against skin echo around his room. The only other sounds you can hear are your combined sounds of pleasure, calling out each other’s names.

You pull on the hand that Miguel has on your cheek to lace your fingers together, his large hand easily dwarfing yours, his talons folded back to not hurt you. Your other hand slips between your bodies, travelling downwards to feel where you two are connected. There’s a deep rumble coming from Miguel’s chest and he presses your sweaty foreheads together, looking at you through half-lidded eyes. Your tight heat is milking his cock so perfectly and at this rate, he’s not going to last long.

“Miggy,” you whine, keeping your eyes on his. His irises seem a little more brown as he looks at you so tenderly, making you feel like you are going to melt into a puddle of goo. He brings your joined hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles and you think you really just might turn into goo.

His thrusts get messier and more frantic You feel the familiar coil building up in your stomach. You lift your hand from between your legs to press firmly against the area below your navel and the sensation is electrifying. You can feel his cock pistoning in and out of you from where you are touching. You can feel him rearranging your insides, molding your pussy to accommodate him and only him, ruining you for anyone else.

“Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía.” he moans into your ear, almost whiney and you know he’s near the edge. He starts peppering kisses on your neck, licking, sucking, grazing the sensitive skin with his fangs but not sinking them in yet. He takes the hand you aren’t holding to rest on your hand on your lower stomach. His thumb reaches further down to stroke your clit earning him a shaky whine from you.

“Cum for me again, hermosa,” he lifts his head to look at your flushed face. You’re sure you look like a mess but to him, you’re more beautiful than the brightest twinkling stars on a clear night sky. “Let me see your pretty face when you cum.”

And with that, you’re gone, pushed over the edge, screaming his name, squirting clear liquid up to his chest. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your hold on his hand tightens, and your legs on his shoulders shake and flail from another intense orgasm. There’s ringing in your ears but you faintly hear him cooing at you, whispering sweet words you can’t quite understand.

Miguel is still fucking into you with messy, frantic thrusts and ragged breaths but it doesn’t take long for him to follow, not when your velvety walls are pulsing, contracting on his dick. He puts a large hand on the space beside your head for support, his claws tearing through the pillowcase, as he drives his hips into yours a few more times before spilling inside you with a deep growl. He paints your insides with his cum as he rides his high with a few more shallow thrusts. You clench around him trying to squeeze as much cum out of him with your tight hole and he whimpers your name.

Both of you pant in unison, trying to catch your breath after that life-altering orgasm together. You turn your head to the side to kiss the inside of Miguel's wrist next to your head. Miguel doesn’t want to move. Everything is too perfect at that moment. You’re perfect.

But he has more plans for you tonight.

He takes your legs off his shoulders to wrap around his waist as he adjusts the both of you so he can lay down comfortably on top of you, putting most of his weight on his elbows on the bed. His dick still plugged in your hole, keeping his seed inside and refusing to part with your tight heat.

“Miggy,” you softly call him, looking at his relaxed face resting on your shoulder, eyes closed.

“Hm?”

“... pull out.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Fine, but only because I want to,” he grumbles, clearly not wanting to pull out. He gets on his knees again so he can at least watch your sloppy hole fluttering as he slowly pulls out. A thick milky ring of your combined fluid sits at the base of his cock. His eyes darken as he sees your cunt trying to clench at air and his cum starts to drip out of you. He can’t have that. He collects the trail of cum with his fingers so he can stuff them back inside of you.

“Miggy, come back here,” you pull at his hand and when he doesn’t budge, you add “You can just cum inside me more later. I need cuddles.”

That gets him to leave your fucked out hole alone. For now. Miguel kisses your stomach up to the valley between your breasts to your neck and lingers on your lips. He goes back to his earlier position on top of you. You drape your arms around his neck as you hum in contentment against the kiss. He smiles and moves to mouth at your sensitive neck, planting soft kisses, licking and sucking as he moans and pants in your ear.

“Miggy, I’m sleepy now,” you turn to look at him. You know what he’s doing. You know that he’s trying to turn you on again. And it’s working.

“You can do one more, mami. One more for me,” he says. He’s almost pouting, almost begging “You said I can cum in you again.”

“I didn’t mean right away. I just came three times already” you whined wrapping your arms around his broad chest. you want to feel him close.

“Mmm, you can cum four times. Maybe more because you’re such a needy little whore,” he murmurs into your neck, not stopping his ministrations. “My cum slut who loves being bred. We’re not going to end the night without your tummy full of cum I promise you that, cariño.”

You roll your eyes at him but you don't push him away and instead start playing with the short curly hairs at the back of his neck, ignoring the way your pussy shivered at his perverted words. You find comfort in his warmth and weight on top of you. You inhale his familiar deep masculine scent and it almost lulls you to sleep until you feel something wet and hard poking at your thigh.

“How are you hard again?” you say in disbelief as you look down and sure enough, Miguel’s dick is erect and ready to go for another round.

“It’s been a while since we had sex and my hand could only do so much to make up for your absence, cariño,” he huffs as gets up on his knees to turn you over and slap your ass. The sound of his palm meeting the sticky wet skin of your ass is undeniably lewd. “And what about needing to get you pregnant does not make sense to you? Get on your hands and knees for me. That baby is not gonna make itself.”

You plant your knees on the mattress and present your ass to him but you don't bother to lift your upper body from the bed. You keep your face down against the softness of his pillows. You didn't want him to see the giddy smile on your face from hearing that he hasn't slept with anyone else. His cum starts dripping out of your hole, coating your clit with creamy white and Miguel almost cums again on the spot.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” His large hands grab at your ass, kneading them. His thumbs spread your puffy lips apart so he can watch your cunt try to keep his cum inside. You groan as you force your arms to lift you up. “There’s my good girl.”

He smacks your ass which earned him a yelp from you. His lips curl up as he watches the flesh of your ass jiggle from the impact.

“Get on with it,” you whine, wiggling your ass to entice him to move faster. For someone who wanted to stop at the third round, you sure are impatient to be filled again.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he chuckles as he guides his cock back inside your wet heat. “There you go, mami. Back where it belongs.”

You moan loudly as you feel him grinding his hips, driving his dick as deep as he can reach inside you. Your eyes flutter close, as you savor the stretch of your hole around his fat cock once more. You couldn’t agree more with his words.

You hear Miguel from behind you input a command on a device. It beeps obnoxiously like it’s mocking you. It’s the last thing you want to hear while he is balls deep inside you, his girthy cock stretching you deliciously and filling you up so good. You think to yourself what was so important that Miguel can't put his gizmo down and enjoy the feeling of your warm, tight pussy on his dick? Right after insisting you can go for one more round?

You are about to snap at him for being ungrateful until a hologram appears in front of you. It shows a live video feed of his very own bed and a clear view of your fully naked self on your hands and knees getting ur insides rearranged by your boss. Your hair is a mess and your makeup is all smudged from how he made you cry from all the begging and overstimulation earlier. And he looks so big compared to you, having to bend low to align his hips with yours. You didn't even notice the recording devices planted around the room until now from how your brain was so fogged by lust. There seem to be at least three around the room from different angles. Well, it turns out he wasn’t just bluffing when he said he could record you earlier.

You wonder if he always had those set up. You haven’t really been to his room before. The few “encounters” you had with Miguel happened in his laboratory on his silly little platform, both of you too consumed by lust to think about moving to a more private area. It’s rather unlikely that they’re for actual safety reasons when they all just record the same area. You entertain the idea that him taking you to his room tonight is not just a spur-of-the-moment thing, that he might have all of this set up for tonight for when he has you writhing in pleasure on his bed. How thoughtful, you think. It makes you clench around his dick.

"You really are a pervert," you quip to annoy him. Clearly, the urge to mess with him hasn’t been thoroughly fucked out of you yet. You didn't even get to laugh at your own childish remark when Miguel abruptly starts thrusting his hips without warning, harder this time, dragging out a surprised whimper from you. His tip is bullying your cervix, testing the line between pleasure and pain but you love it. Your eyes meet Miguel's intense red glare on the screen.

"You're still talking," he tuts, his head shaking like he's some kind of pet owner trying to reprimand a disobedient pet "Let me fix that, cariño.”

He brings his large calloused hands back on you – where they belong, you think to yourself, echoing Miguel’s words. His left hand is firm on the flesh of your waist, you are sure they are going to bruise once he’s done with you. His other hand fondles your breasts, the sharp talons on his fingertips lightly grazing your soft skin. You know that when you look at yourself in the mirror tomorrow morning you’d look like you barely got away from being mauled by a feral beast, evidence of how Miguel O'Hara had his way with you and how you enjoyed every single second of it.

You cry out his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s so deep inside you that you can almost feel him in your chest, his thrusts fucking the air out of your lungs.

“Miggy, Mi…. Mig– ah, ah Mi– haaaa –guel ahhh”

Your eyes roll back at the continuous assault on your sweet spot and your cervix with every deep thrust. High-pitched whines come out of your throat as your arms give out from under you, making you fall face-first on the soft mattress. It all feels so good but overwhelming. You think you’re going to pass out.

“Que rico, mami,” he pulls your hair so you can face the screens. “Look at yourself. Beautiful. Taking my cock so well. Don’t worry. I have this all recorded if you’re too cock drunk to watch yourself now, cariño.”

You can't say anything back. You try really hard to come up with something but the only word that comes out of your mouth is “please” over and over again becoming progressively needier each time. He wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, his chest flushed against your back, allowing him to rock you back against his forceful thrusts.

“Gonn’ make sure I put a baby in you tonight, cariño,” he growls in your ear. “I can’t wait to see your tummy swell in a few months. You’ll look divine, I won't be able to take my hands off you even more.”

His eyes are back to a glowing red as they meet yours that are glazed over by tears and lust. His hand tightens his hold on your hair making you tilt your head further, exposing more of your neck for him to suck bruises on. Your tits are bouncing freely at his aggressive pace. Coupled with the high-pitched moans coming out of your mouth, it’s all so pornographic. It makes you feel like liquid fire is running through your veins and pooling into your stomach.

“You’re gonna cum for me? Let go. Come on. cum for me, mami,”Miguel grunts in your ear, his hand on your hair letting go so he can greedily grab at your tits. “I wanna feel your cunt pulsing on my cock. Can you do that for me? Of course, you can. Going to milk me dry.”

And just like that, you throw your head back on his shoulder, eyes screwing shut as another wave of orgasm crashes down on you. Miguel follows closely, filling you up with more cum that drips down your thighs and on the bedsheets. Your body slumps back against his, too tired to keep yourself upright. You don’t even have the energy to open your eyes, content with feeling Miguel’s warm body against yours.

“I got you,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and moving you to lie down on the bed. You hum in contentment, letting him care for your tired body. He bends down to plant a kiss on your forehead before he pulls away. You miss his touch already.

A beeping sound lets you know that he turned off the monitors. You feel him taking the soiled bedsheets, getting up from the bed to get fresh ones. You have half the mind to reach out to him and tell him he can clean up later so you can cuddle now. Your mouth, however, doesn’t want to move so instead you groan as you blindly reach your hands out.

Miguel chuckles at your antics, walking back with fresh sheets and a damp towel to wipe off the sticky mess from your body. He sits next to you on the bed and brings the towel to your tear-stained cheeks, gently dabbing the area around your eyes to get rid of the messed up traces of mascara and eyeliner. You take your hand to rest on your chest trying to calm your wildly beating heart.

The comfortable silence, unfortunately, doesn’t last long. You hear the unmistakable voice of Lyla cut through the air.

“Heeeey, bossman! Heeeey, girlie!” she drawls and your eyes snap open as you snatch the sheet from Miguel’s hands to cover yourself.

“Ay, coño! I thought I said no alerts tonight,” Miguel looks pissed, rubbing his face in frustration before moving to turn off his watch. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

“Wait, wait! Sorry to interrupt the big night, Miguel, but it’s an emergency. Trust me you’ll want to fix this now,” Lyla raises her hands in surrender before Miguel presses a button. She turns to you, looking apologetic and asking for help “Then you can go back to babymaking, right, dollface?”

“I–” you flush, choking on your own words. You begrudgingly turn to Miguel, your lower lip caught in between your teeth. You lower your eyes as an ugly feeling crawls up your chest.

“It sounds important. You should go,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to speak up any louder. “I’d say I can be back up but I can hardly move so you’re on your own, big guy.”

Miguel sighs and gets up, telling Lyla to send him the information and that it better be worth his time.

You are already sexually satisfied and tired – that’s what four orgasms could do to you – but you are a little upset and sulky that Miguel has to be called in for work right now. Stupid anomaly or whatever it is. It’s probably important and a universe out there might be in grave danger. But you can't help feeling like shit about it though.

You like how soft Miguel gets when he cleans you up after sex. You like it when he picks up your tired form and whispers soft words to you in Spanish. Plus, you were looking forward to cuddles. What’s the use of having sex in his room on his bed if not to cuddle afterward and wake up next to each other the next day? And then, suddenly, in the early morning light, realize that you’ve been madly in love with each other all along. Okay, you are more than just a little upset.

Miguel notices you pouting and your eyes getting glassy with tears as you try to roll off the bed. He shoots his glowing red web at you, trapping you where you are before going back to readjusting his watch.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, walking back to the bed as he makes sure his suit is all good and ready for the mission. He kneels on the bed to drag you to lie on your back.

“What are you doing? I'm going to take a shower,” you sniffle trying to avoid his eyes “I’ll take care of myself. you should go”

He hums as he takes both your wrists in one hand and forces them above your head to secure them together with his webs.

“Miggy?” you look at him and there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes. He darts his tongue across his lower lip and you feel a shiver run up your spine.

He doesn’t respond. He only keeps looking at you like he’s going to devour you once more. He brings your legs up to the position he had in before, knees to your chest, cunt fully exposed to him. You blush and your heart starts pounding in your chest. He shoots out more of his web, making sure you’re comfortable and your legs are securely tied in that position.

“Good?” he whispers and you nod in response “Words, cariño.”

“Perfect,” you moan, your chest heaving with need. He smiles at you fondly, caressing your cheek with a curled finger, and plants chaste kisses on your temple, your nose, and the corner of your mouth until he reaches your lips. He hums in contentment as he savors the feel of your lips against his. Then, he pulls away reluctantly and puts on his mask. He sets his watch to the right coordinates opening up a portal to wherever the universe needs saving.

“I’ll be back as fast as I can. I’ll make sure that anomaly regrets ever being made for interrupting my plans for our night,” he grumbles and gives you one last kiss through his mask for good luck. “And then it’s going to be all about you for the rest of the night, hm? I promise.”

He walks into the portal backwards so he can look at you until it closes and takes him away. Your heart flutters in your chest, anticipating what’s to come as you feel the webs digging deliciously into your soft flesh.

•🕷️────✧˖°˖🕸️˖°˖✧────🕷️•

Translations:

Que linda - how pretty

muñeca - doll

cariño - dear/darling

Qué voy a hacer contigo? - What am I going to do with you?

Qué haría sin ti? - What am I going to do without you?

conejita - little rabbit

pobrecita - poor thing

que rico - “[you] look good” (literal: tastes good)

Podría acostumbrarme a esto - I could get used to this

Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces - You're so beautiful. You don't know what you do to me

Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor - You feel so good. You were made for me, my love

Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía. - My beautiful girl, my sweet girl. Mine. All mine.

mami - mommy (as an endearment for a partner)

coño - pussy

A/N: so many thanks to my friend who helped me with translating and giving me tips on some better Spanish terms to use 🙏

[d1g1tal-d1ary]

Part 2 of my addicted!Simon headcanon!!

Price always had a lot going on; being the Captain of a Task Force demanded a lot of time, energy and most of all - nerves.

So when one of the nurses on base had pulled him aside and said that she suspected someone stealing Morphine, all he did was nod and call in a meeting. Luckily, everyone had obliged to giving him a urine sample to let it be tested for drugs.

What no one seemed to notice was Simon's eyes staring into nothingness as all he did was pray that his heavy heart wouldn't give his covers away. His head was spinning because he searched for a way out of this - there had to be a way he didn't have to take it. And suddenly his mind started to wander off to you; the only one who'd met him without knowing he was Ghost. The only one who knew he had a problem - a fucking big one right now - and the only one who understood him was you.

One hand tightly gripping the little cup, the other one knocking loudly on your door. He didn't hesitate when the door opened; he simply pushed it open and walked into your tiny apartment.

"Simon?" you asked with a frown plastered on your face. You hadn't expected him - of course you hadn't so all you were wearing was one of your cute pyjamas you avoided to wear around him normally. "Is everything okay?"

"I messed up," was all that came across his lips with a heavy sigh. When his gaze met yours, all he could do was put the cup on your kitchen table and point at it. "I need your help."

You stepped closer and eyed the little cup and when you realized what exactly he'd asked you to do, you shook your head. "No, I'm not helping you fake a drugtest."

"Please, luvie," his eyes studied your face - he reduced the distance between you two quickly and took your face into his rough and calloused hands. "I'll never ask anythin' of you ever again. Just let me keep my job, fuck- it's the only thing that's been keeping me sane all this time."

Of course your heart sank when you heard his pleading and even more so when you looked up at him and you could see the desperation in his blue eyes. After moments had passed - which felt like years for Simon - you'd finally nodded and given in to him.

"I knew you'd understand," he whispered and pecked your lips before letting you go take the drugtest.

You'd never felt so dirty in your life. Pissing into a little cup while Simon waited impatiently outside the bathroom made you feel greedy and so, so worthless. But if you were being honest; there was nothing you wouldn't do for Simon. Of course you weren't supporting his addiction - that was the main reason you had broken up, after all. But he was your Simon. The closest you'll ever get to finding unconditional love.

A few days after Simon had given the sample to Price - he'd been the last to hand it over - the test results finally came. And Price would never doubt his team; they'd done everything together for years at this point, but he could also imagine one of his soldiers having an addiction as it was nothing new.

To his surprise and relief, all the test results came back negative. But looking at Simon's results made him frown - or more so, all he could do was huff at the result.

"You wanted to speak to me?" Simon had stepped into Price's office; not even thinking that it could have anything to do with the drugtest as he knew you hadn't taken any.

Price's eyes never left Simon's form. He watched him intensly as he took the seat across from Price's desk. "Yeah, well, the results came back and since you're L.T., I thought you'd deserve to know before everyone else."

Simon hummed in response while leaning back, silently thanking you again.

"Luckily, everyone's negative," Price announced which made Simon even more relaxed. "But.. The Lab was a bit confused and thought something went wrong as Simon Riley's clearly a male name."

"Captain, I don't think I can follow you," Simon had frowned under his balaclava.

Price barked a bitter laugh as he looked at the Lieutnant in front of him. "They found the hormone Beta-hCG in your piss. You wanna know what that means?"

All Simon could do was nod; unaware of what's to come.

"The fuckin' piss is from someone who's pregnant," Price lowly said. "So now we not only know this wasn't your piss, but I think you two would've been smart enough to know we‘d find out. So, Riley, should I say congratultions?"

Y‘all wanna read part 3???!!! 🙏😭

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hi, I love your writing! Are you still taking requests? What about a villain finding out his fav hero is actually an robot?

The hero went missing briefly and in their reunion his systems start to panic, the villain attempt to help? And finds out there is grey metal under his mask? Not skin?

"Oh," the villain said, soft. "Oh, I see."

"See what?" The hero stayed turned away, head bowed, frantically trying to shield his face. "Don't look at me. Just - what are you doing here?"

"I came to rescue you."

"R-rescue me?"

The villain stepped closer into the hero's cell. Heat radiated off the hero's back and, well. The villain pressed a finger to the back of the hero's neck; where the skin had burnt away, revealing the cold grey of metal and circuitry.

The hero gasped and whirled.

His face was - well, it was fried from the few short days he'd spent missing, captured. Where his enemies had tried to bruise him, bleed him, there were caved in spaces that revealed yet more metal. The hint of a perfect silver skull. Veins which throbbed with electricity instead of blood. Even one of the hero's eyes were gone, replaced by the startling blue of a machine staring back. Well, they were always blue but...so muffled, before, compared to what the villain looked at then.

The two of them stared at each other.

"You can't tell anyone," the hero said.

"I always thought you were too impossibly good to be true," the villain replied. "Too flawless."

"Don't," the hero whispered.

The villain took the hero's jaw, carefully, tenderly, in their hands. "Look what a mess they've made of you. I'll kill them for it."

The hero closed the one eye that he could. He trembled, so exquisitely life-like, so exquisitely alive, in the villain's palms.

"They must have been so angry when they found out what you were," the villain said. He let his finger stroke over the ruined curve of the hero's cheek. "I'm glad I got here before they destroyed you completely."

"Why? What are you going to do with me?"

The hero took a step back.

The villain let him go, for now, studying him with fresh eyes. More and more puzzle pieces clicked into place. "Do with you?"

"I'm not human."

"You're beautiful."

"I'm not - if people know -"

"I've never heard you talk like that before. System overload?"

The hero shook his head. Something sparked. "You're d-dodging the question."

"Well," the villain said, evenly. "I was going to take you out of here. Clean up your wounds at my place. That sort of thing. I could probably makeshift the kind of specialist support you currently need in my lab, but I imagine you have a much better set up at home. So I guess I'm taking you home. If that's okay with you."

"Home," the hero echoed. He stood frozen.

"Home."

"You're not mad? Mad? Mad?" The hero managed to jerk to a halt. He heaved a ragged, shuddering breath.

"No."

"I'm not human. You came to rescue a human. Human." The hero shoved a hand over his mouth. The tremors were more forceful than before.

If the villain touched him again, he would be fever hot, wouldn't he?

The villain shrugged.

"I don't understand," the hero said.

"Unsurprising. You're not running at full capacity right now, are you? So shall we pick this up again when you're out of here? And feeling a bit better? It would be tragic if I came all this way just for you to overheat in front of me."

The hero stared some more. The blue eye contracted and expanded, whirring noiselessly. The villain wished he knew what kind of diagnostics the hero was running. How it all worked. He wanted to know everything.

His brain, such as it was, must surely be the most gorgeous thing.

He'd always wanted to know how the hero ticked but this...oh, this. He held out a hand and smiled.

"It's a relief, actually," the villain said. "I'm not mad. Now. Let's get you back in your mask, shall we?"

By the time the repairs were done, it was impossible to tell. It was extraordinary. Giddying. A love letter to the best that people could be.

And the hero looked shattered by the truth of it.

[longagoitwastuesday]

Actually, if I think about it, it kinda feels like Nobara was going to be it since the beginning. Gojo makes that very shady comment about how she has a very interesting technique in one of the very first chapters. It had me wondering and rewatching a few times, looking for what I was missing, but I couldn't think of anything and left it be

Inside me there are two wolves (I love Nobara and Gojo, I'm not sure at all I want them alive)

[kaszuma]

Acta, Non Verba | Hoshina Soshiro

Part 3 of "Certainly Yours"

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro × fem!reader

summary: Soshiro had never been good with his words. But you knew enough that he didn't need to say things out loud.

warnings: slightly suggestive. combat suit admiration.

wc: 2,697

--

note: dialogue is hard to write. So if it sounds weird and oddly paced sorry about that. Not proofread at all and have been busy with work

--

It had been days since you shared that chaste kiss with the Vice Captain of the Third Division. Soshiro Hoshina.

The image of both your lips under the stairs leading up to the Training room had been the only thing devouring your mind's eye as of late. And that memory alone was enough to keep you energetic for the rest of the fortnight after.

You remember it very clearly.

The way his calloused fingertips ran circles around the skin of your jaw. The steady breaths he took as if he too had been nervous about sharing your lips for the first time.

And although Soshiro had not shown an ounce of his nerves. Not a hint of his expressions had turned sour nor worried. Hinting no regrets at the actions that led up to that point.

And It had been made very apparent that he too craved to be near you, just as much you did for him. You sought after the lingering sensation of his touches. Your body magnets towards him when he tries to pull away. His bruised lips that had tasted like the bitter coffee of the early mornings, lingered on yours that had preferred the sweetness of something else. And that reminded you of all those sideway glances you'd do to the back of his head in the mess hall during the dinnertime.

Who would've thought that you'd end up kissing a man as respected as Soshiro Hoshina.

Sure, his way of kissing was a little sloppy for the most part. Likely from not having done it for so long. But it was far too gentle. Hungry even. Like a silent plea, begging you to never pull away from him. Like you'd disappear if he didn't hold you close enough. And you had reciprocated his eagerness with open arms. Showing the same amount of need to be in close proximity with him.

And since then?

Those one off glances that used to linger no more than a minute had now lasted far longer than it should have. And people have been starting to notice. Especially because Soshiro did not bother masking his intention of seeing you on a daily basis. Though no one had thought to ask, since the Vice Captain had always been an enigma to the common recruit. Not a stain on his record. And certainly not worth the risk of insubordination.

So it came to everyone's surprise when his usual routine had been replaced with an afternoon coffee break. Followed by hasty footsteps towards the research center which he had rarely visited beforehand. His direction? Straight to the repair rooms where your Lab had been located.

Soshiro had never been good with his words. But you knew enough that he didn't need to say things out loud.

And the moment the door had opened, you didn't even bother to look up from the blueprint you were tasked at reading up on. A smile already etched on your face as you knew who exactly appeared at your doorstep.

“Here for another maintenance check?” You quipped. Knowing how many times he had used that same excuse in a single week. And you hear that familiar cheeky chuckle of his. One that had been a common occurrence especially when he was off-duty.

“I can’t help but be thorough.” He shrugs, amusement in his voice. And you had pushed the blueprint away from your hands. Swiveling the chair that you sat on so that you can finally face him. Just in time to see Soshiro slowly shutting the door from behind him.

You clicked your tongue in mock disappointment. “Tut tut. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were slacking off, Vice Captain.”

“Then I guess you're my accomplice.” He replied.

Making careful strides to reach you. Hands slotted on the back of his waist as his gaze lingered down your own form. Clad in that snug pencil skirt that hugged the shape of your hips. Particularly admiring the way your skin disappeared underneath it. He tried not to make it too obvious however. He didn't come here just for that. At least not yet in that sense. He still had his wits about him. Even if you were a sight to behold.

But his expressions never gave way to his thoughts. Slotting himself just a few ways in front of you where his shadow had towered over your form.

“I assure ya that I won't be the only one getting into trouble when you're around.” Soshiro had replied. Pointing towards you as you let out a small but playful scoff.

“Well, I’ll save us the trouble then. How about you help me out with work? I've been meaning to ask one of the officers to beta test the new suit upgrades anyway.” You had smiled, matching the level of his banters. Your chin raised up slightly as you directed his attention to the side where a singular Combat Suit had been displayed.

And Soshiro tilts his head towards it. Raising his brow with a small hum.

“Hmm. If I help ya, will I get a reward for It?”

You had blinked a few times to rid yourself of the sudden warmth in your chest. Already in anticipation of what he was planning. Somewhat at least. And the timing had been perfect when you had been witness to the steady chuckles that left his lips.

Cheeky Bastard.

“Maybe.” You shrug. Glancing away from under his scrutiny. Cause God knows his gaze would’ve caught the way a smile had already etched on your lips.

“Quite a roundabout way of telling me you want a kiss, but alright.”

You had half a mind to roll your eyes. But this was a reply you had expected. And Soshiro had a way with reading you like a book without meaning to. “I’m not the one who's asking for a reward to begin with.”

“Acting shy now are we?” Soshiro had turned to face away from you. Already wasting no time as he shrugged off the standard uniform jacket he wore. Revealing the black compression suit he always had on underneath it. A rare sight since he had always been seen in the standard military uniform that had hid his figure very well.

But with that tight shirt on?

It felt rude just to look. Especially when your thoughts couldn't help but sink down into the swells of admiration. That was indeed beyond the precipes of the respect and hard work that the Vice Captain put into his training.

“Where was all that confidence the last time I took your breath away?”

And you hold in the urge to smile. Slightly glad that he was already busying himself by wearing the rigged combat suit. Lest he'd see your cheeks dusted with pink.

Anytime you glance at his lips, you're only reminded of the time he had so easily pulled you in. Leaving your mouth a raging red and your breaths labored. A thought that makes your heart flutter at the mere memory of it, and it feels as if he holds a sense of power over you. A reminder that he could do such a thing again. If you wanted him to.

The moment the suit had completely molded against Soshiro's body. Your eyes couldn't look away at the density of his build. The way it had traced the taciturn abdomen which had not been so noticeable until now. Often hidden away in the confines of his uniform. The compression shirt had proven enough coverage. But with the combat suit it had always had a way to mold itself into the body like it was a second skin. And somehow, it has always been a magnet for your eyes to feast.

Especially so when Soshiro had fit into it so perfectly.

“You should take a picture, it'll last longer.” He had spoken. Not realizing that he had long since turned to your direction after stretching his arms to adjust to the familiar tightness of the suit. And you couldn't help but roll your eyes this time.

“Really?” Playful sarcasm dripped from your voice. “Thank you for pointing that out, Vice Captain. If not for you I wouldn't have known.”

The mock dramatics were light. Her usual feist had not gone away it seems. And it only makes Soshiro chuckle. “I think I'm beginning to rub off on ya.”

“I suppose that's a good thing. It makes it easier to handle your stellar personality. Now hold still.” You smile. Making your way towards him until you were mere inches apart from one another. Your hand likewise had pressed its firm palm on the back of his shoulder blades. Passed the metal plates that had the symbol of Japan’s Defense Force on it.

You slowly circled around him, hand dragging along the bio weapon that had covered his skin. A silent reminder that he had worn this countless times into the field. A layer of advanced chainmail that had protected Soshiro in the case of a Kaiju sneaking up from behind him. It was impressive the way he looked better in it than the rest of the Officers you've seen wearing it. Or maybe that was just your preferences talking.

Your hands feel the steady ridges of the muscle fibers that make up for his armor. Eventually reaching the familiar metallic ends that traced the curve of Soshiro’s spine. Tracing your fingers from the nape of his neck, down to the tailbone of his waist. And he tries his best not to shudder in response. A sharp inhale is all you hear as he managed to turn his head away with slightly reddened ears.

“You're taking your sweet time. Any reason why?” He had breathed, trying to focus his mind on something else. And not the sweetness of your fingertips drawing honey out of his very being.

“I can't help but be thorough. ” Your lips quirked up, repeating the same exact words he had reasoned moments prior. And he held back a dry chuckle. Feeling the sudden way you had pressed firmly on a particular spot that had him flinching. “Don't tell me you're ticklish Vice Captain?”

And he sighs. Shoulders tense as your hand traces upward, back unto the nape of his neck, where his hair had met his skin.

“Ticklish is probably not the word I'd use. But let's go with that.” He spoke in a lower octave than he intended. And that voice of his felt a little strained. Making you smile, enjoying his scrutiny just for a little bit. His small twitches are something you hadn't expected from him at all. And it was nice trying to peel off layers of things you had never seen Soshiro in before. And you had a feeling that only you had been blessed to witness such discrepancies of that perfect expression on his face.

It was beginning to crack because of your touches.

You had turned back to face his front, hands placed against the swell of his waist. Which was sturdier than she thought. “Does it hurt when I press here?”

“No.”

“And here?” You had moved your hand to slide up onto a layer of plating on his chest. And you hear the way his soft sighs had turned a little shakier than normal. His hands immediately reaching to grab your wrist before it could move up further his neck, where his skin disappeared under the suit.

“...No”

“Ya’ know, why do I get the feeling that this suit isn't broken at all?” He looks you in the eyes. That smirk of his had been riddled with a new expression. As if he had just been provoked in some way.

“Maybe because it isn't?” A sweet smile etched on your lips made him chuckle. A small hum of disapproval had made it clear in his tone.

“I worry that you put so much faith in me.”

His voice had been all but a whisper this time. A deep rumble that had shot straight through her ear and neck as he took careful steps in front of her. Walking forwards as you take adequate steps baback. Until eventually, the back of your waist hits the surface of the small desk. Effectively allowing him to cage you in when his hands had grabbed the surface of the table beside your hips.

It was spacious enough for you to pull away. Should you want that. But as usual, you had only leaned forward. Open to his advances that you had once witnessed before. In fact letting him do as he pleased since you had rightfully poked the places you knew that would get him riled up. And despite that steady smile on his face, she could see how his lips form a thin line. A crack on his usual facade that she wanted to see more and more as days passed by.

“You should be careful when you're handlin’ me alone like this.”

“Why is that?” You tilt your head. And amusement flashes by his face.

“Because with or without the suit. Touchin’ me that way could lead me to do a lot of things to you.” He spoke softly, moving his lips much closer to your ear.

And although your breath had caught on from your throat. You only move in to press your cheek against his. “Things like?”

Soshiro chuckles. Leaning down to brush his lips against your jaw. The fan of his breath makes your heart pound against your ribcage. “You're playing a very dangerous game, sweetheart.”

“Well I won't know if you don't tell me.” you replied back. Likely a challenge to Soshiro's own words. Not at all rejecting his advances.

“I'd rather show ya’ instead.” He smiles.

And without as much as a thought to hesitate, his hand moved automatically. Already moving to cup your cheek with the warmth of his gloved palm. His eyes closed as your lips clashed against his. Sweet as it may. It had a slight hint of deviance in its movements. And you feel the steady bite of his teeth pulling at your bottom lip before it returns to bruising those pretty lips of yours. A warning perhaps that indicated more to come if she kept pushing him over the edge like that.

You shuddered. Moving closer to reciprocate his kisses. Hands already moving from his shoulders to his neck, nails gently raking to the back of his head. Feeling the soft stubble of his purple hair. Softer than she had initially thought they would feel.

Your chest heaved as he pulled away. Drawing a breathless sigh from you, as if he himself sucked all the breath out from that kiss alone. And it leaves your cheeks heated. Leaning against him to balance yourself with paced inhales that made you feel the pounding of your heart ringing in your ears.

Soshiro couldn't help but admire the state he put you in. His hands moved to grab your waist to let you lean against him if you wanted to. And he couldn't help but move his lips down to the crook of your neck. Pressing light kisses on your pulse that he had assumed had been working hard at keeping you breathing for him. A silent apology for leaving you in such a state.

“That satisfy your curiosity?” He mumbled, and you could feel the smile on his lips against your skin. Closing your eyes as you received his oddly uncharacteristic gesture.

A gesture you had understood despite it not being addressed. You were used to his off behavior. More so when he refused to elaborate on certain things you know he's speaking through his actions. And that was enough for now.

You didn't need to understand everything. Just the things that matter. Just the things he wants you to know right now. And his kisses had been enough to convey that thought. Your reply had not hesitated when you wrapped him into a tight embrace.

“Very.” And you had a feeling that he was willing to show you more, if you let him.

And that had been enough for you. Even if he never was good with his words.

[tomwaterbabies]

disneyland happenings

featuring varian and hugo. since thats what our costumes were

^(us trying to be very spooky) (there is a lot below btw lol)

someone asking if i (dressed as hugo) was from atlantis. surprisingly this only happened once

we went to kingdom hearts mickey first bc that was gonna be a popular one the rest of the night. the idea of varian in kingdom hearts is definitely really funny. i do not go here im just being honest

OH. new addition to the costume. i had olivia with me as a shoulder friend

met bruno from encanto who commented on her. we talked about our rodent friends he was very nice. he said he brought "all 200" of his rats with him and wanted to help feed them and knows mickey is a big mouse so maybe we could ask him. i said we could just steal some food. varian got mad

went over to see sid from toy story because he seemed like a mean little bitch. he was a mean little bitch. i may have said that his creations could use a little work but thats no reason for him to say "your mouse needs a little work" and "i hope you kept the receipt".... cunt

laughing about how mother gothel was no longer part of the characters to meet. "they killed her forever this time" etc etc

watching the parade and varian almost jumping out of his skin when mother gothel was in the parade. her ghost

we went to this thing called villain's grove which was a bunch of light and effects n stuff through their little forest area. it was mostly a cool immersive experience so most of the footage is on the Lights And Effects Themselves but here's a few of us that look cool lol. gay tunnel (maybe not) (that segment was themed after frollo)

met hans from frozen. we absolutely had no clue he was going to be there it was pretty funny. you may guess that my friend @kristoffs-lullaby (varian cosplayer) is a frozen enjoyer. so we hopped in line to see him

hans asked if varian's alchemy balls were some sort of magic or enchantment and you'll Never guess what varian responded with

though explaining its alchemy and science and all that didnt really make him feel better. he even asked if its something that would be in danger of bringing in an "eternal winter". varian did not like that :)

saw dr. doofenshmirtz (?) i didnt watch that show. he was pretty fun to meet though. i know some people dont like his creepy ass design, but i do, its fun and weird to me. he wanted to collaborate with me and varian since we're scientists. really funny to have him say "i'll have my people call your people". a possible strange message that rapunzel will get later /j

also encountered hades. though our friend @iammisswow was with us and so i had him focus on her since shes a big hercules fan. the visual was hugo getting this scary man's attention to be put on someone else by calling her out. it worked obviously. "oh SHE is a HUGE fan of hercules"

madam mim from sword in the stone didnt really have as big of a crowd so we actually talked with her a pretty good amount. shes SO fun. lots of discussion about magic vs science and how she thinks knowledge is stupid. you can imagine how we of all people felt when she said "KNOWLEDGE is not power, MAGIC is power". she also liked olivia (she thought she was a familiar)

meeting judge doom from roger rabbit was kind of scary LOL. very intimidating man. but his area had vats of chemicals and all that so you can imagine we had fun with that. WE can be trusted. obviously.

nervously just nodding our heads as judge doom tells us to come to him if we have any information regarding where "that rabbit is" (we are not doing that)

and also we saw ernesto de la cruz from coco. we were actually able to catch him right as he started performing which is rad but i dont actually have any interactions to tell u about here it was bad ass though

and, unbeknownst to Hugo (as in i also didnt know about this), varian had a surprise for him. he had a whole... horribly genuine and flustery spiel to say about messing around in his lab and all that and made something for hugo. which was a necklace with a piece of colored glass-like material (teal) in the shape of a heart. hugo handled that whole situation really well (lie)

ANYWAYS ! that's it. i've mentioned before but Disneyland Trips will be retired really soon since I'm not too fond of a lot of their wack shit right now, but wanted to share some of the last bit of enjoyable times to be had there before that happens