#ive had a tired few days i needed an excuse to just stare at some basic math for a while

[underratedandoverit]

they dont see you but i do (and i love you)

~5k words orangekip (orange cassidy/kip sabian)

whaddup have a secret relationship fic. this got unnecessarily long but who cares its good lol. slight shades of angst and some hurt/comfort, especially closer to the end, but its basically your usual pondering over difficult relationships stuff that you should be used from me by now if you come here often lol. oh also kris is here as ive fallen in love with writing her and i dont even know if im doing her that good LOL kip says fuck too many times. as per usual. other than that theres not really anything to warrant a high rating for it tbh

@midnightpretenders0 @stormbornpirate

on ao3

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Laying on the bed, Kip eyed the ceiling opening above him, listening to the quiet sounds around him. It was just another week of this, being stuck in the hotel room, waiting for the next day to roll around so he could get to work. Take care of business there as per usual, get back to the hotel for the night, fly home the next day, and wait anxiously to repeat the whole thing next week.

It was the same thing week in and week out.

But at the same time, he didn’t really mind it in the end, Kip thought as he watched the bathroom door being pushed open, the blond walking out and approaching the bed. Cassidy plopped sitting down to the bed next to him, running a lazy hand through Kip’s brightly colored hair, the Brit sending him a tired smile.

“Long flight?” Cassidy asked, as if he hadn’t just spent like ten minutes making himself presentable after coming in from his own flight. Kip just chuckled at him quietly, scooting a bit closer as he snuggled against Cassidy’s side. He didn’t need to reply to the question, the answer was pretty obvious to both of them.

“Just happy you’re here finally,” he muttered into Cassidy’s side, the blond nodding despite knowing Kip couldn’t see the response from him. He continued to run a hand through his hair, spinning coils of it around his finger as Cassidy stared off into the distance across the room, briefly wondering why Kip hadn’t turned the television on while he had been waiting. They had arrived separately despite sharing a hotel room, like usually, not only because it would have taken one of them a good hour or two or maybe more of waiting for the other’s plane to land.

But also because the newly blossoming relationship was still a secret they were both in mutual agreement trying to kind of hold under the wraps to their coworkers and people around them, in hopes of being able to break the news when the response would have been at least a little bit less turbulent than what it would have been with them coming off from as heated of an on-screen feud as they had had the past couple of months.

Honestly at least to Cassidy it wouldn’t have been a huge surprise if some people had already started to put the pieces together, even if they had been openly sworn enemies up to just a few weeks ago. While they didn’t spend time together publicly, it was probably very obvious they were both hiding something from their own friend groups. Cassidy sure as hell knew Chuck and Trent had been asking him questions why he always disappeared so fast after the shows and never flew in early anymore for fun outings the nights before and so forth, and he always had to come up with some excuses like just wanting to spend some more time at home or the convenience of late hour flights. Kip had very similar stories to tell, and while they didn’t really have many mutual friends, surely someone at this point had started to think things. Like Cassidy had seen the way both Kris and Danhausen looked at him when he was talking about all of this.

“Clementine? Are you listening?”

Cassidy snapped out of his thoughts, looking down at the questioning look from Kip as the other man gently poked him on the thigh to gather his attention again. Cassidy shook his head a little, letting out a sigh. “Sorry. What’s up?”

“I was just thinking,” Kip started, pushing himself up into a sitting position next to him, leaning his back against the backboard of the bed. “Since I’m going to visit home next week. Why don’t you come with me? We can have a little getaway away from work together.”

Cassidy’s brows furrowed a bit as he processed the rather out of character proposal from Kip. He had been talking about going back to the UK to visit for a while now, but this was the first time he had directly made a comment about them possibly taking on this trip together, and something about him so randomly bringing this up now just felt very odd to Cassidy.

“I don’t know if I can get a whole week off.”

Kip pouted at him a little, knowing full well that wasn’t the only reason he was hesitant to immediately agree to his little proposal. “You’ve been working almost every single week for almost a year now. You can have a little time off, I’m sure. It would just be really nice to have some company.”

“Isn’t there anyone else you could ask?” Kip rolled his eyes, already knowing that Cassidy was going to try to pull as many excuses as possible to avoid being dragged along to this. “It would raise a lot of questions if we both flew to the UK at the same time when there’s nothing going on over there that we need to promote or appear in. Sharing a flight, sharing the time, sharing--”

“Yeah, okay, I get it, you don’t wanna go.” Kip turned away from him, clearly irritated by this turn of events as he leaned away, fetching the remote from the nightstand on his side of the bed, turning the television on. “You don’t have to be so rude about it.”

“It would just be suspicious if--”

“And what does that matter?” Kip asked with a sigh, Cassidy already regretting ever answering anything when this topic was brought up. “We’ve been dancing around this topic for weeks now. Is that ever going to fucking stop, or are we going to just keep this as a secret forever? It’s been like, what, two months at least now and nothing has changed except we just need to keep being more and more careful as time goes on. Do you understand how exhausting that is?”

It wasn’t really a surprise to Cassidy that Kip was bringing all of this up, and honestly he was right about it too. It had been a few weeks now, and it was wearing both of them down steadily, but surely. Constantly having to arrange things around one another but still keep being together a secret, never answering their friends questions about their free time anymore, not being able to spend time together while they were at work… It was all very exhausting, yes, but at the same time maybe that was at this point in time still better than potentially facing the backlash of bringing this whole relationship into light.

Cassidy just really had no idea how to tell all that to Kip in a way he would understand it better, especially when he knew just as well as the Brit himself did that Kip was already very well aware of all of these facts too.

“I just wish we could act like… I don’t know, fucking normal I guess, around other people too. I just want to be able to do stuff with you without it being all like this.”

Kip didn’t need to specify what “this” meant in this context, Cassidy already knew it. This was far from the first time they had talked about this, far from the first time either of them had tried to push out some ideas to maybe bring this all into the light. Cassidy less so, but nonetheless, to both of them this was an issue they needed to solve. Eventually more so for Cassidy, if he was being honest. Sure being so secretive was stressful and taxing, but at the same time he felt like this was all working out really well for the two of them, and having to bring it all out to the public when he didn’t know what kind of a general reaction they would get, was probably actually making him feel more anxious than trying to continue to hide it all for as long as possible until the world was ready to hear about the two of them in his mind.

“Whatever. Forget I even asked. I’ll just go alone, it’s fine.”

Before Cassidy could even muster an apology out of him, let alone a reply of any sort, Kip pushed himself up from the bed, picking up his bag on the way as he headed for the bathroom. A heavy sigh escaped from Cassidy as he heard the shower being turned on soon after, knowing that while the conversation was now definitely over for the night, on the long term the struggle had just started. While they hadn’t maybe been together for that long yet, he already had a very clear vision of what kind of a person Kip was especially in a relationship, and Cassidy knew full well when he set his mind onto something like this, Kip wasn’t going to let it go before he got what he wanted. Or something went terribly wrong while he was trying to get his desired results.

Cassidy just wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to give it to him yet. Eventually, obviously, if things between them went on well enough for long enough, they would make it official publicly as well to at least their friends and coworkers. But right now he still wasn’t entirely sure about it. While it didn’t feel very fast, it wasn’t like they had just gotten together yesterday, it had been a couple of weeks at this point, something about it was still off putting to him.

Maybe it was the fact that it had been a while and they were still hiding it. Obviously Kip didn’t really like that anymore, and Cassidy wasn’t even sure why they had carried it out this long. Out of habit probably, but it still felt more comfortable to him than putting it out there. Something about keeping it a secret felt safe, even if it was definitely the more taxing option, and he just wanted to cling onto that feeling maybe.

He shook his head, hand reaching for the remote as he turned the television off before proceeding to prepare himself for bed. It was obvious no more conversations were going to be had tonight, and it was late already, they really did need to sleep in order to be able to get to work tomorrow. Turning the lights off Cassidy listened to the sound of the running water coming from the bathroom as he returned to the bed, settling himself comfortably under the blanket. Kip was taking his sweet time, probably trying to distance himself from the previous conversation, giving them both time to breath. Or at least that’s what Cassidy was hoping for.

Trying to calm his own mind with a couple of deep inhales, Cassidy settled on his spot in the bed, snuggling his head against the pillow and closed his eyes. He was already tired from all the traveling and the mental toll all of this was taking on him, so it didn’t take Cassidy long to fall asleep despite the situation around him.

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Navigating his way through backstage, Cassidy was basically looking for any possible glimpse of Kip he could. He hadn’t seen Kip since last night, by the time morning rolled around and Cassidy woke up, Kip was already gone from the hotel room. It wasn’t anything unusual for them to leave at different times to avoid suspicion, but usually they at least had breakfast together before leaving. And this morning Kip was just gone, before he even woke up, which was unusual for him, especially since usually Cassidy was the one that left first as Kip liked to sleep in and took longer in general to get ready for the day.

Cassidy didn’t blame him after what transpired the night before, but truth to be told, he was a little hurt by it all, there was no denying that. At least if something positive came out of this, Cassidy knew now fully where Kip stood with this topic, and it made it easier for him to make up his mind about it too.

Well. At least somewhat easier. Pulling the trigger on something like this especially when you had to afterwards explain to all of your friends why you had been hiding it from them for weeks wasn’t going to be easy. Cassidy already knew that at least Chuck was going to freak out at him no matter what. But at least if that happened, they would easily use his reaction as one of the key example reasons why they had decided to keep it under wraps up until this point.

Finally stopping the fruitless search and pushing the locker room door open, Cassidy was rather surprised to actually find it empty. Usually he was the last one to arrive out of their group, especially when they spent the morning hiding away at the hotel with Kip. Maybe it shouldn’t have been so surprising to him that the rest of the Best Friends hadn’t arrived yet, considering that things hadn’t happened this morning. With a sigh he flung his bag on the couch, taking a seat next to it.

He was going to get to see Kip eventually, that much was for sure. Even if he had gotten so irritated with Cassidy that he somehow would have gone through getting a whole separate hotel room, which Cassidy doubted but wasn’t completely ruling out immediately considering how last night had gone, they still had a big multi men tag team match between their respective groups happening tonight. So at least they were going to be sharing the ring tonight, if not the bed later.

Thankfully he didn’t have to be alone with his thoughts for too long, as soon the door swung open again, Cassidy watching Kris stroll in, a smile landing on her face as soon as she saw the blond sitting on the couch.

“Orange! Perfect!” Cassidy just shrugged back at her as he leaned back on his seat, just kind of hoping tonight would be over quickly. Kris parked her luggage next to the couch before walking around the room, quickly checking in the shower and bathroom before returning to Cassidy. “The rest of the boys are not here yet?”

He shook his head, the smile just growing bigger on her face as Kris threw herself down on the couch next to him. “Good, I wanted to ask you something.”

Cassidy didn’t even have time to let the dread build inside of him before Kris already blurted out the words he had been hoping nobody would be directing at him any time soon.

“Sooooo you are dating someone, aren’t you?”

Cassidy didn’t need to reply, as the way he tensed up visibly at the question already told Kris everything she needed to know, making her gasp a little bit in excitement as she pushed herself up in a proper sitting position on the couch, her eyes never leaving Cassidy as she did. “I knew it! The boys didn’t believe me but I knew it!”

“Kris, please--”

“Who is it? Do I know them? How did you meet? How long have you been together? What--”

“Kris. Please.”

She pouted a little at being interrupted, but quieted down pretty fast seeing how exhausted Cassidy was already about this whole thing. The blond just sighed, removing the sunglasses from his face before he wiped a clearly frustrated hand over it, letting out the sigh.

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone?”

Kris didn’t reply, just watched as Cassidy put the sunglasses back on, trying to relax a little on his seat. He knew it was pointless to try to hide the truth from Kris at this point obviously, but this was also maybe one of the worst possible times she could have actually brought this up with him. Whatever he said, it was either not going to convince her, or she was just going to keep on asking more questions, no matter what. And Cassidy just really didn’t want to think about all of this right now.

“…Sorry.”

Cassidy glanced in her direction, watching Kris’ eyes land on her lap, her fingertips tracing the folds of her jeans as she was trying to find a direction to take this conversation. Cassidy sighed again, shaking his head a little. “It’s fine. Or whatever.”

“Sorry,” she muttered again, reflecting his sigh with a quiet one of her own. “I just got excited. We’ve been speculating about this a lot with the guys and, well…”

Her voice trailed off, but Cassidy just nodded a little. Obviously the lies he had been telling had been easy to read through, honestly he was pretty sure the only reason why Kris was the one thinking along the right lines was because of Chuck and Trent’s denial about the situation, which was probably also why she was the first one confronting him and not either of them. He couldn’t blame her though, not only because she was right, but this was obviously a fairly big deal. Big enough to potentially disrupt the group dynamic even, especially if they found out who it exactly was that Cassidy was involved with.

“…You’re right though.”

Kris looked back up at him, blinking blankly at him a couple of times as she was registering his words in her brain. Cassidy just shrugged. He had no real reason to hide it from her if she had already figured it out up to this point. Denying her the truth only to hopefully eventually bring it up again wasn’t going to leave pretty marks. “But you can’t tell them, okay? We are not…”

He stopped to think about it for a moment, shaking his head slightly. “I’m not ready for that yet.”

For what it was worth, Kip obviously seemed to want to take the next step sooner or later, way earlier than he was ready for it honestly. Cassidy understood his side of things, but then again, Kip didn’t seem to have as much hanging here as he did. He hated to say it, but Kip seemed to have much more supportive friends in this case than he did. He never complained about anyone around him probing him for extra details about his life or the times he didn’t spend around them like the people around Cassidy seemed to do. And he knew Kip loved to complain, so this wasn’t just a thing he didn’t talk to Cassidy about. It just didn’t happen at all, or even nearly to the degree it happened almost on a weekly basis at this point with Cassidy.

He sighed. “I’m not ready for that yet.”

Kris nodded her head, sending him a little encouraging smile. “Of course. Again, sorry, I got a little carried away there. Just… When you’re comfortable, okay? I would love to hear all about it. For support, not for gossip. Obviously.”

Cassidy chuckled a little, glad not only for Kris’ immediate understanding but her lighthearted way of trying to lighten up the mood. “Sure.”

“Just,” she started, eyes trailing off as she glanced around the room, slightly awkwardly trying to look at anything but Cassidy in the moment, “You don’t have to answer, of course, but… Why?” His eyes narrowed at her behind the sunglasses, Kris just shrugging a little. “Why aren’t you ready? Why is this a secret?”

He had a million answers to it that he could give to her. So many ways to say it, so many ways not to. A lie for every truth he had in him. Instead he just motioned vaguely with one lazy hand around him, watching Kris raise a brow at him. Cassidy wasn’t sure what kind of an answer she had been expecting after all that, but apparently it wasn’t really this. But the look in her eyes still told him that she got it.

“…Is it the guys?”

Neither of them was sure why Kris was even asking, as soon as the question left her lips the answer was very obvious. Even more so as almost on cue the locker room door opened again, the two people in question walking into the room, Trent following up in Chuck’s leading footsteps. As both Kris and Cassidy turned towards them Chuck froze on his spot, glancing between the two of them, it being very obvious that they had interrupted something important here.

“Sorry, bad timing?”

Both of them just shook their heads, not answering anything beyond that despite the suspicious look they gathered from Chuck.

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He knocked on the locker room door, but was met only with silence. This was expected though and it didn’t falter his plan as Cassidy just pushed the door open, not being surprised in the slightest to find the other man sitting there, sulking all by himself. He was right where he was promised to be.

As he heard the door open, Kip glanced towards it, obviously annoyed as he had wanted to be left alone for a while, a genuine look of surprise crossing his face at the sight of his boyfriend instead of one his stablemates like he had been obviously expecting.

“Clemen--”

Kip stopped himself before the affectionate nickname slipped from his mouth, quickly turning away to hide the slight shade of pink that climbed on his cheeks. Cassidy did his best to pretend he didn’t see any of it as he walked up to the other man, in his head trying to decide if Kip was being so bashful about it because of what had transpired in the ring and he was hurt about it, or if this was about trying to not show such affection towards him in public. He wasn’t entirely sure, but it was probably a bit of both.

“What do you want? Didn’t you already mock me enough out there?”

Cassidy glanced down at the ice pack he was holding in one hand that Kip had obviously missed him carrying, carefully extending it towards Kip, placing it against the side of his face. The Brit flinched away a little, but as Cassidy insisted on holding it against him, Kip hesitantly accepted it into his own hands.

“I didn’t mean to hit you that hard. Sorry.”

Kip muttered something that sounded like an insult back at him, still refusing to look back at Cassidy. The blond observed him for a moment, finally taking a seat on the bench next to him. Kip didn’t look at him, to be honest Cassidy was pretty sure he turned a little bit more away from him actually. The blond opted out to observe his hands as the stiff silence fell in the room between the two of them, it being obvious that some of this tension needed to be relieved one way or another.

Cassidy slowly removed his sunglasses, letting out a quiet sigh.

“Look, I’m sorry. About last night.”

“No you’re not.”

Cassidy’s eyes narrowed as Kip finally turned back towards him, his eyes still wandering around to everything but to look directly at the blond. At this point Cassidy wasn’t entirely sure if the slight reddish color on his face was a blush or a potential bruise starting to form on the side of his face where the Orange Punch had landed earlier.

“You’re not sorry about what happened. I am. I’m the one that was out of line.”

Leaning forward on his seat, Kip leaned his arms against his legs, letting out a sigh. “You were right. It would be all too weird and suspicious if we did any of that. Sorry for even suggesting it.”

He ran a free hand through his hair, shaking his head a little. “I’m just… You know. Fucking tired of all of this.”

As Cassidy remained silent, both of them knowing he didn’t need to say anything to confirm to Kip that he knew exactly what he was talking about, Kip just shook his head again, turning his eyes away from Cassidy.

“I just… I don’t want to just be your dirty little secret forever.”

“You’re not my dirty little secret.” Kip snorted quietly, choosing to sulk a little beyond the shadow of the ice pack again, to avoid eye contact with Cassidy. “Well, you are a secret and definitely dirty, but you know what I mean.”

“Sure do make me feel like I am.”

Cassidy knew this game Kip was playing and how he had the way to twist his words into the way he wanted to hear them, that being nothing but the negative in this case, so he just remained silent, letting the Brit continue talking.

“I hate tiptoeing around everyone else about this or my life in general. I hate it that I can’t just find you and hold you or your hand when I want to, that I can’t just push you against the lockers to kiss you. I hate going home alone and having to wait a week to come back to you for barely a full day before repeating the lonely cycle all over again. I fucking hate all of this.”

Kip let out a soft chuckle, sounding almost disappointed in his own line of thinking. “Fuck, I hate you for making me fall in love enough to keep on doing this.”

Cassidy observed him from the side, knowing full well that everything Kip was saying was genuine, as much as it hurt to think about. Mostly because he felt the same way himself, and not only seeing but also hearing that Kip was willingly making these sacrifices because Cassidy had asked him to, every word felt like a little stab to his heart that he was just forced to take because this was his own doing.

“I know why we are doing this, but…”

“It’s tiring. I know.”

Kip finally looked directly at him, scanning the clearly tired face of the blond, almost as if to try to find some hints of insincerity, like these were just words he was saying because he knew they were ones that Kip wanted to hear, but he came short in his search.

“I don’t like this either. But it’s… It’s for the best right now.”

Kip sighed, but he nodded, knowing Cassidy wasn’t playing him just for fun. They both knew how exhausting this situation was, and the reasons for them keeping it this way, despite how it was affecting everything. They had talked about this a lot, but it didn’t make it much better for Kip, if he was being honest. He couldn’t recount the times he had straight up told Cassidy ‘fuck what anyone else thinks’, but he had still kept his promise to keep it all under the wraps. For him.

He felt a hand land on his tight, Kip’s eyes traveling down to it, a soft smile crossing his lips as he reached his free hand for it, intertwining their fingers together before squeezing Cassidy’s hand carefully.

“The fucking things I do for you,” he sighed, hearing a soft chuckle coming from Cassidy. His thumb carefully petted Kip’s, Cassidy just observing their hands sitting in Kip’s lap before he spoke up again.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something. Other than apologizing for your face.”

Kip glanced up at him, Cassidy not returning the look as he kept looking at their hands, a little smile playing on his lips as he pondered through his words.

“About what you said last night. I think I might actually take you up on that trip offer.”

Kip’s brows furrowed at him, but Cassidy just kept smiling. “Maybe it would be a good thing. Not for the potential rumors but…” He looked up, directing the smile straight at Kip, leaving no room for any misinterpretations of what he was saying. “Maybe it would be really good for us.”

Cassidy could feel Kip’s grip of his hand tighten a little, a barely noticeable amount, but the man never broke eye contact with him, looking almost surprised at his words. “Really? You… You do want to go with me?”

Cassidy shrugged, but kept on smiling. “Sure, why not? Like you said, we should spend more time together, and having this little getaway could do us some good. See if we can… Hold this together for more than two days at a time or whatever. And without having to worry about someone catching us.”

In a one fell swoop Kip dropped the ice pack from his face and his hand, with his now free hand reaching for Cassidy, pulling him closer by the back of his head for a kiss that was almost as big of a surprise to him as Cassidy’s statement just now was to Kip. Cassidy chuckled softly against the kiss, eventually returning it before Kip cut it short by pulling away again, looking away almost instantly as a shade of regret crossed his face as he realized what he had just done.

“Shit, sorry, I-I didn’t mean to. You just… Really surprised me.”

Cassidy just shrugged it off with a smile. It wasn’t uncharacteristic for Kip to act this affectionate, especially when put on a spot, but they had been extra careful and making sure such acts of affection weren’t done in public, which was the part that caught him off guard. Cassidy reached his hand for Kip’s face, landing it on his cheek, turning him back towards him.

Him blushing like that was so endearing to Cassidy.

“Your friends won’t bother us for a while. It’s alright.”

A soft smile crossed Kip’s lips, but Cassidy was sure he could see a little smirk also tucking in the corners of his mouth as Kip registered his words.

“Oh thank god.”

Before Cassidy could reply, Kip grabbed a handful of his shirt, pulling him close for another kiss, this time clearly intentional enough that Kip wasn’t going to let him go any time soon. Which suited him just fine, as Cassidy didn’t want him to, allowing his free hand to run through Kip’s hair as he let the Brit deepen the kiss.

[bechloeislegit]

STRONGER Chapter 13

On Sunday, Beca moved out of the ICU into a 'regular room.' She also had her IV removed and her first semi-solid food since she was admitted to the hospital. She moaned with pleasure as she ate the lunch provided; well, as much pleasure as one could have while eating green jello and chicken broth.

"Would you like me to leave you alone?" Chloe asked, giggling.

"Shut up," Beca said, picking up another spoonful of jello. "It may look like jello and broth to you, but as far as I'm concerned, I'm chowing down on homemade lasagna and garlic bread."

"Oh," Chloe said, sighing. "It seems like so long ago that we had that meal. Too bad you're still here, or we could be celebrating the same way we did my birthday."

Beca blushed and choked on her jello. "You can't say things like that to me when I can't do anything about it."

"Hmm," Chloe hummed. "I guess you'll just have to get out of here soon so we can celebrate like that."

Beca blushed more and cleared her throat. "Don't you have a class you should be going to?"

"It's Sunday," Chloe replied, leaning over to kiss Beca. "Speaking of, I do have classes tomorrow, so I won't be able to come by until later in the day."

"Some of the Bellas said they'd be by tomorrow," Beca said. "I'll miss you, but I won't be lonely."

The Bellas did visit the next day. Stacie and Jessica were with Beca. Beca was tired and tried to stifle a yawn. She apologized to her guests.

"I can't believe how tired I am from just laying here," Beca sighed through another yawn.

"Maybe we should go so you can rest," Stacie said, standing.

"Thanks," Beca mumbled through another yawn. "And thanks again for cleaning the house for us. I know my mom appreciates it as much as I do."

"No thanks needed," Jessica said. "We'll see you later, okay?"

"See you later," Beca said, waving as Stacie and Jessica left.

They had been gone only a few minutes when Sarah came and stood in the doorway.

"Your father is here," Sarah said when Beca looked at her. "He wants to see you."

"Why?"

"He's already apologized to Chloe for what he did," Sarah said. "My guess is he wants to apologize to you, too."

"I'm not sure I'm ready to hear it," Beca said. "Or ready to forgive him."

"Can I at least tell him you'll think about talking to him?"

"Yeah," Beca responded. "But also tell him I'll reach out to him when I'm ready, okay?"

"That sounds fair," Sarah said.

"Thanks," Beca said. "Do you think you can ask the nurse for something to help me sleep? I feel exhausted but still wide awake at the same time."

"I'll ask the nurse to bring you something on my way out to talk to your dad," Sarah said and left the room.

Beca sighed and settled back on her bed. She was tired, so she closed her eyes, hoping sleep would come naturally.

A few minutes later, Chloe came in and, thinking Beca was asleep, quietly made her way over to the bed. She stood at the end and just watched Beca.

"Stop staring; it's creepy," Beca mumbled, causing Chloe to jump.

"Dammit, Beca," Chloe exclaimed, putting a hand on her chest. "You scared the hell out of me."

"I'm sorry," Beca said, laughing as she reached out to Chloe. "Come here.

Chloe slowly walked over to the side of the bed.

"I really am sorry for scaring you," Beca said, pulling Chloe to sit on the bed.

Chloe pecked Beca's lips. "I'm only accepting your apology because I was being slightly creepy. But, in my defense, I was listening to see if I could hear you snoring again."

"Excuse you," Beca gasped. "I do not snore!"

"Um, yeah, you do," Chloe said, giggling. "I heard you when you were still in the coma. I thought you were moaning because you were in pain, but the nurse pointed out that you were actually snoring. So, I listened, and she was right. You, my love, snore and are adorable when doing so."

Chloe leaned in again and kissed Beca. Then, she pulled back and laid her forehead against Beca's.

"I love you," Chloe whispered.

"I love you, too," Beca whispered.

"Beca?"

Hearing her name, Beca leaned back and looked over Chloe's shoulder to see her dad standing in the doorway to her room. Chloe looked back as well.

"What do you want?" Beca asked, not bothering to hide her irritation.

"I'll wait outside," Chloe said, starting to move from Beca's bed.

Beca grabbed her arm to stop her.

"No," Beca said. "Stay. Please?"

Chloe looked at Ben and then back to Beca.

"Are you sure?" Chloe asked.

Beca nodded, and Chloe moved to sit in the chair next to the bed.

"What do you want?" Beca asked again as Ben stepped further into the room. "I told mom to tell you I'd call you when I was ready to talk to you."

"She told me," Ben said. "But, I have to go to court tomorrow-"

"What?! We weren't notified about that," Beca interrupted, sitting up straighter. "I can't testify from the hospital."

"You won't need to testify," Ben said. "My, um, my lawyer worked out a plea deal where I'll plead guilty and be sentenced to 5 to 7 years in prison."

"Wow," Chloe muttered.

"Does mom know about this?" Beca asked.

"Not yet," Ben said. "I wanted to tell you first. I, uh, I also wanted to apologize to you. You're my daughter, and I should-" Ben stopped and cleared his throat. "I'm not going to lie, Beca. I still have a problem with homosexuality and you being gay, but you're my daughter, and I do love you and will support you no matter what. Chloe seems like a great girl, and I'm glad you found someone who loves you as much as she seems to."

"I do love her, Dr. Mitchell," Chloe said, looking at the man. "And I promise you; she will always know how I feel about her. I will never do anything to make her think otherwise."

Beca smiled at Chloe. "I love her, too, dad. And I plan to spend the rest of my life showing and telling her."

"I'm glad," Ben said. "And I am sorry for what I did, Beca. I know it's a lot to ask, but I'm hoping you'll let me be a part of your life. After I've served my time."

"I'll have to think about it," Beca responded honestly. "I understand a lot happened to you, and you were upset. But for you to take it out on me just because I'm gay? That's a bit hard to just get over. So just give me some time, and we'll see how it goes."

"That sounds fair," Ben said, nodding his head. "Thank you."

~Stronger~ ~Stronger~ ~Stronger~

The next morning, Charlotte came in with Chloe to visit Beca.

"Hey, Chloe," Beca said. "I wasn't expecting to see you until later."

"I'm going home tomorrow," Charlotte said. "And Chloe and I want to spend some time together before I leave."

"Don't you have classes tomorrow?" Beca asked, looking at Chloe.

"I do," Chloe said, shrugging. "My mom gave me permission to skip them."

"What?" Beca gasped and smiled. "I didn't realize you were such a rebel, Charlotte."

"Sorry, not sorry," Charlotte said, smiling as well. "I also wanted to see you before I left, so here we are."

"Um, I appreciate it," Beca said sincerely. "Thank you for being here. I know my mom appreciated having you around for all this."

"You're family," Charlotte said. "And we Beales will do anything for our family."

~Stronger~ ~Stronger~ ~Stronger~

About thirty minutes after Chloe and Charlotte left, Sarah entered Beca's room.

"Hey, mom," Beca said.

"So, um, your father told me about the plea deal," Sarah said.

"Oh, yeah, he told me yesterday," Beca said. "I'm glad he's taking responsibility for what he did."

Sarah furrowed her brows and asked, "Where's Chloe?"

"She took her mom back to her apartment. Charlotte's leaving tomorrow, and they wanted to spend time together before she left."

"Remind me to call Charlotte later," Sarah said. "I want to thank her-"

"Hey, short stuff," Fat Amy called out as she entered Beca's room.

Sarah chuckled as Beca glared at Amy and said, "Don't call me short stuff!"

"Sorry," Amy said, without remorse. "When are you getting out of here?"

"Hey, Beca," Jessica said as she and Ashley entered the room. "Hey, Mrs. Mitchell."

"Please, call me Sarah," Sarah said.

"Well, Sarah," Fat Amy said. "Is this one going home with you, or is she going to be shacking up with Big Red."

"Shacking up with who?" Sarah asked, looking at Beca.

"She means Chloe," Beca said. "Amy has a nickname for everyone. I think she does it because she can't remember our names."

Jessica and Ashley laughed.

"That hurts me, Beca," Fat Amy said. "I give you all nicknames out of love."

"So, when do you think you'll go home, Beca?" Jessica asked.

"Thursday," Beca responded.

"That's great news!" Ashley exclaimed.

"Yeah," Jessica said. "The Bellas aren't the same without you."

~Stronger~ ~Stronger~ ~Stronger~

Beca felt something wet running down her side and reached her hand back. There was blood on her hand when she brought it back around. She grimaced when she realized it was her blood. She then looked up to see Daniels standing in the doorway, holding his stomach with one hand and the knife with the other. He glared down at her and shouted, 'She's mine, and you can't have her!'"

"She was never yours and never will be!" Beca shouted back.

"I'm going to kill you and then show Chloe your lifeless body when she gets here," Daniels said, laughing maniacally as he moved toward Beca.

"No! I won't let you touch her!" Beca yelled just as the knife was coming down at her.

Beca sat straight up in bed, breathing heavily as tears ran down her cheeks. Her body was shaking as she looked around, fully expecting to see Roger Daniels standing over her.

"Fuck," Beca mumbled, running her hand through her hair and flopping back on her bed.

Beca lay still for a few minutes before sitting up again. She grabbed her phone from the bedside table; her hands were shaking so badly that she almost dropped it. She opened the recent text she had received from Chloe and typed a message.

[Beca 1:07 am] R u ok?

It was less than a minute later when her phone rang. Beca answered, but before she could say anything, she heard Chloe immediately asking if she were okay.

"Yeah, I'm okay," Beca said. "I, uh, I had a bad dream. And I just, um. I just needed to make sure you were okay. Are you?"

"I'm fine," Chloe said, yawning. "I promise. Want to talk about it?"

"I'm sorry I woke you," Beca whispered. "Go back to sleep."

"I won't be able to until I know you're okay," Chloe said, settling her back against the headboard. "Tell me about your dream."

"It's dumb," Beca said.

"Tell me anyway," Chloe said.

Beca sighed and looked around. Chloe waited quietly on the other end of the phone, knowing Beca would start talking when she was ready.

"I was dreaming about the day, um, the day Daniels attacked me."

"And?"

"And I didn't make it," Beca whispered as a tear ran down her face. "I was so scared because I knew if I didn't make it, he was coming after you next."

"Oh, baby," Chloe whispered. "You're still here, and so am I. Roger Daniels is dead and can't hurt or bother either of us again."

"I know," Beca said. "But, it reminded me of everything about that day. I didn't say anything before because I didn't want to go to jail, but I only thought about how I wanted him dead. I wanted him dead, Chloe, so I kept fighting to make sure that he didn't make it out of there alive."

At this point, Beca is sobbing. Chloe felt for Beca and wanted to be with her. She grabbed her clothes, tucked her phone between her neck and shoulder, and started dressing.

"I'm coming to the hospital," Chloe said.

"No," Beca said, her voice catching. "Don't, um, don't do that. It's late-"

"I don't care," Chloe said. "I need to make sure you're okay before I can even think about going back to sleep."

Beca sobbed and sniffled into the phone.

"I'm on my way," Chloe said, ending the call.

Twenty minutes later, Chloe ran into the hospital. She was stopped by a nurse just as she reached Beca's room.

"Can I help you?" the nurse asked, moving in front of Chloe to block her way. "Visiting hours are over."

"Um, I need to see Beca," Chloe said, trying to see into Beca's room. "She called and is upset because of a bad dream. I need to make sure she's okay."

"Let her go in, Tracy," said a nurse Chloe recognized as one Beca had in the ICU. "Beca is the girl that fought off this woman's stalker. Dr. Anderson has given Beca's mother and her girlfriend here permission to visit whenever Beca wanted or needed them to. I believe he made a note on her chart about it."

"Oh," nurse Tracy said, stepping aside to allow Chloe to pass. "I'm sorry, miss. Please go on in."

"Thank you," Chloe said and quietly slipped into Beca's room.

Her heart broke when she saw Beca sitting up, staring at the wall with tears streaming down her face.

"I'm here," Chloe whispered as she hurried over and sat on the edge of the bed.

Beca threw herself into Chloe's arms. Chloe held Beca and whispered soothing words in her ear.

After a minute or two, Beca sniffled and pulled back from Chloe.

"I'm sorry," Beca mumbled. "You didn't have to come."

"Hey, look at me," Chloe whispered. Beca looked at her. "I love you and am here for you no matter what. Don't ever forget that."

"I won't forget," Beca whispered, sniffling again. "And I love you, too."

~Stronger~ ~Stronger~ ~Stronger~

Later that morning, Sarah walked into Beca's room to find Beca wrapped up in Chloe's arms, sleeping soundly. Hearing Sarah enter the room, Chloe gently eased out of Beca's arms and went over to the woman. She stood next to Sarah with her arms crossed.

"Is she okay?" Sarah asked quietly. "Did something happen?"

"I think she's okay now," Chloe replied just as quietly. "She texted me about one this morning asking if I was okay. It worried me, so I called, and she was sobbing over a bad dream, so I came to make sure she was okay."

"Did she tell you about the dream?" Sarah asked.

"Yes," Chloe said, looking down at the floor. "It had to do with Roger Daniels attacking her. Only, in her dream, she, um, she didn't survive."

"Oh," Sarah said, looking over at Beca.

"As she spoke of it, she got more upset because, during the attack, she said all she could think about was how she wanted him dead," Chloe said. "Because if she didn't kill him, he would have come after me next."

Chloe wiped a tear from her eye and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

Sarah rubbed Chloe's back. "As much as I hate to say it, she's not wrong. I truly believe his death was the only outcome that will keep you safe."

"I know," Chloe said. "I just hate that it's because of me she's having to go through all this."

"You're not to blame for any of. . . this," Sarah said, waving her hand around the hospital room.

"A part of me thinks what you're saying is true," Chloe said, sighing as she continued to look down at the floor. "But another part of me thinks that you're wrong."

"You know what I think?" Sarah asked. Chloe looked up, shaking her head. "I think you both should talk to someone to help get you over these feelings of guilt you have."

"Chloe?" Beca called out, looking around.

Chloe and Sarah hurried over to Beca's bed.

"I'm here, baby," Chloe said as she sat on the edge of the bed.

"I'm here, too," Sarah said, causing Beca to look at her. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Beca said. "But I am feeling better since Chloe showed up."

Sarah smiled. "Do you want to talk about your dream?"

"You told her about that?" Beca asked, looking at Chloe.

"She's your mother, Beca," Chloe explained. "I had to tell her."

"Beca," Sarah said, getting her attention. "I told Chloe, so now I'll tell you. I think you both need to talk to someone about all that's happened. If not, you'll have to find a way to quit beating yourselves up over something that you had no control over."

"I think she's right, babe," Chloe said. "I feel so guilty about you being put into the situation where you had to fight off my stalker. You almost died, Beca."

"But I didn't," Beca said, taking Chloe's hand.

"I know," Chloe said. "But I still feel like it's all my fault that you almost-."

Chloe stopped and let out a shaky breath.

"I've got an idea," Beca said, cupping Chloe's cheek. "How about we both talk to someone and figure out how to get past our guilt and everything associated with all this?"

"I think that's an excellent idea," Sarah said. "I can ask the doctor for some therapist recommendations and make an appointment for you. For both of you, if you want, Chloe."

"Okay," Chloe said, sniffling. "I'd like that."

Chloe's phone rang, and she looked at the caller ID.

"Shoot," Chloe said, standing as she answered the call. "Hey, mom."

"Chloe, where are you?" Charlotte asked. "I need to get to the airport."

"I'm on my way," Chloe said, rushing out of the room. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Beca and Sarah watched Chloe leave.

"What the hell was that about?" Beca asked, looking at her mother. Sarah shrugged and shook her head.

"Sorry," Chloe said, rushing back into the room. "I have to go. I left without telling my mom I was coming up here." Chloe ran over and kissed Beca. "I'll be back after I take my mom to the airport."

"Okay," Beca said. "Go. And be careful!"

Chloe then ran out of the room. Beca and Sarah smiled and shook their heads.

~Stronger~ ~Stronger~ ~Stronger~

The next day, Sarah picked Beca up from the hospital. Beca was glad to be leaving finally but had some trepidation about going back to the house where her attack occurred.

Her mind flashed scenes from the attack like a vacation slideshow; only there was no laughing and smiling happening. As each scene flashed in her mind, Beca would flinch and frown.

Beca knew her mother could tell something was up with her as she continued to glance over at Beca. Beca would smile a small smile at her and try to think of happier things like Chloe and getting back to some normalcy.

Sarah parked at the curb in front of the house. As soon as the car was turned off, Chloe was there, opening the car door for Beca.

"Welcome home, babe," Chloe said as she pulled Beca into a hug.

"Thanks," Beca mumbled against Chloe's shoulder.

Chloe pulled back and looked at her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just tired," Beca said. "I think I'm going to lie down for a while."

"Um," Chloe said, looking from Beca to Sarah. "That might have to wait for a bit."

"Why?" Beca asked.

"Welcome home, Beca!" the Bellas screamed from the porch.

"That's why," Chloe said as Beca looked over her shoulder.

Beca smiled and took Chloe's hand. She led Chloe to the steps and up to the porch to join the girls. They grabbed both girls into a group hug.

"You guys are too much," Beca said, pulling back from the hug.

"We couldn't let our conquering hero come home without a celebration," Stacie said.

"Where's Aubrey?" Beca asked, looking around.

"She's in the kitchen," Sarah said.

Another image of the attack flashed through Beca's mind when she heard the word kitchen.

"Come on," Chloe said, opening the front door. "Let's get inside and get this party started."

The Bellas cheered, and Beca let herself be pushed into the house. As soon as they were inside, Chloe headed toward the kitchen.

"Brey's putting the finishing touches on lunch," Chloe said as the girls all made their way into the kitchen. "We're having a Mexican feast."

Beca's face paled, and she pulled Chloe to a stop. She took in a few deep breaths and let them out. She started shaking and gripped Chloe's hand tighter.

"Are you okay?" Chloe asked, looking at Beca.

"I, uh, I don't know," Beca whimpered, hiding her face in Chloe's shoulder. "I don't think I can go in there."

"That's okay," Chloe said, hugging Beca to her. "You don't have to. I'll fix you a plate and bring it out here for you, okay?"

"Okay," Beca said.

Chloe led Beca over to the couch and made sure she was comfortable.

"What would you like to drink?"

"Iced tea if we have it."

"We do," Chloe said.

She quickly kissed Beca and went into the kitchen.

"Where's Beca?" Aubrey asked when Chloe came in alone.

"She, uh, she didn't want to come in here," Chloe said. "I'm going to make her a plate, and we'll eat in the living room."

"That makes sense," Jessica said.

"We should have thought of that," Ashley added.

"Let's all eat in the living room," Stacie suggested. "If that's alright with you, Sarah."

"I think that's a great idea," Sarah said.

The girls picked up their plates and made their way to the living room. Chloe picked up a plate and stood looking at the frood.

Sarah noticed Chloe looking from the food to the kitchen door.

"I'll make a plate for Beca," Sarah said. "You get yours and go join Beca and the girls."

"Thank you," Chloe said and quickly made her plate.

Jessica was coming in just as Chloe was leaving the kitchen.

"Chloe?" Jessica said, stopping Chloe. "I'm getting drinks. What would you and Beca like?"

"Iced tea, please," Chloe said.

Chloe then hurried out of the kitchen and made her way over to Beca.

"You're mom's making your plate," Chloe said as she sat next to Beca.

Beca took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "My mom told me on the way home that she made an appointment for me to see a therapist."

"I know," Chloe said. "I have one, too."

"That's good," Beca said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "I think the first thing I'll have to work on is being able to go into the kitchen without having a panic attack."

"Oh," Chloe said, looking toward the kitchen as Jessica and Sarah walked out. "I hadn't thought about how you'd feel coming back here. You know, if you want, you can-"

"Here you go, ladies," Jessica said as she set their drinks on the coffee table.

Sarah set Beca's plate on the table as well.

"Thank you," Beca said to both women.

Everyone started eating and complimenting Aubrey on the food.

"Thank Sarah," Aubrey said. "She made everything. All I did was help Chloe keep an eye on it while Sarah went to the hospital to get Beca."

After everyone thanked Sarah for such a good meal, she excused herself and went into the kitchen.

"I'll be right back," Chloe told Beca before following Sarah into the kitchen.

"Did you need something, Chloe?" Sarah asked.

"Um, sort of," Chloe said. "Beca said something about having the therapist work on getting her over the fear of coming into the kitchen, and I was wondering if you'd be okay with her staying with me for a little while? At least until she's actually talked to the therapist."

"Hmm," Sarah hummed as she thought about it. "I trust you to take care of her as well as I would, so I'm okay with it if she is."

"Great!" Chloe exclaimed. "I'll ask her about it after everyone leaves."

Sarah chuckled as Chloe literally skipped out of the kitchen.

~Stronger~ ~Stronger~ ~Stronger~

Later that day, everyone had left the Mitchells' house except Aubrey and Chloe. The two Bellas' Captains were having a private conversation. A conversation that Aubrey started, much to Chloe's surprise.

Their conversation ended, and Aubrey turned to Beca.

"Beca?" Aubrey said, causing Beca to turn to her. "Chloe and I were talking, and we would like to invite you to stay with us for a bit. Do you think that's something you'd like to do?"

"Yeah, Beca," Chloe said. "Stay with us. At least until you can work out some of your anxiety about being here."

Beca looked at her mom. "Mom? Is it okay with you if I stay with Chloe? And, um, Aubrey?"

"I think it's an excellent idea," Sarah said. "And you should take them up on it."

"Okay, then," Beca said. "Thank you both for doing that for me."

"Come on," Chloe said, grabbing Beca's hand. "I'll help you pack some of your stuff."

Chloe led Beca up the stairs. Sarah watched them leave and then looked over at Aubrey.

"I'll be happy to help with any expenses while Beca is staying with you," Sarah said.

"Thank you," Aubrey said, smiling. "But I have a feeling that once those two are living together, Beca may never move back here."

Sarah smiled. "I have a feeling you might be right."

A/N: That's the last regular chapter. I plan to have an Epilogue set a few years down the road, but that won't happen until after Spookfest 2022. Thanks for reading!

[shurisneakers]

harmless (vi)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: BUCKY BARNES IS BACK AND HAS A CONFIRMED PERSONALITY 

also omg everyone who’s been sending me ideas- ur the lomls. 

if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! i might actually end up using them

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Your place or mine? ;)

He stares at the text.

The right answer is mine. See you at the lair.

“Y’all are dating now?” Clint peeks over his shoulder. 

“Fuck no,” Bucky says indignantly. “God forbid.”

“Okay, man,” he retracts, giving Bucky space to turn around and face him. “What do you want to call your mini dates then?”

“Missions,” Bucky corrects him.

“No one wants to go on a mission. You volunteered to go back there.” 

“It’s for the good of the tristate area.” 

“I bet.” The snort he lets out contradicts his words. “Whole world is depending on you, Barnes. Go save them from the treachery of your crush.”

“Enemy.”

“Girlfriend.”

“Mortal nemesis.” Bucky narrows his eyes at him. “Go further, I dare you.”

“What are you gonna do? Choke me? Punch me with your metal arm?” Clint cranes his neck. “Bring it, big boy. I’m not scared of some kinky shit.”

He hates living here. 

The door is left open for him. 

This time, even though the lair is still illuminated by the green light out in the front, there’s a minor change. Sunlight streams in through a skylight in the roof. 

There’s a ladder there, leaning against the rim. It gives him an entrance to the roof, which, judging by the lack of any other presence in the lab, is where he’s supposed to go.

As he gets closer he notices there’s a note on one of the rungs.

‘Evil’ with an arrow pointing upwards.

He rolls his eyes, discarding it on the floor before swiftly scaling the steps.

“Ah, Mr. Barnes,” he hears your voice call out even before his head pops up above the surface. “We’ve been expecting you.” 

He pauses, looking around. “Who’s with you?”

Because other than the gigantic machine pointed up towards the sky, there’s only you with a visor and sunglasses. The  best way he can describe its design was that it was shaped like a pine cone, had a large antenna pointed towards the sky, two handlebars near its base to manoeuvre it with a large button in between them. 

“Just imagine I have my henchmen with me,” you urge. “I’m on a budget, man, I can’t afford them yet. Maybe when my cloning machine finally works-”

He doesn’t answer.

“It’s a James Bond reference,” you add when he doesn’t show any signs of answering. 

“Haven’t watched it yet.” Bucky shrugs. “We’re doing Star Trek right now.”

“You’re done with Star Wars?” you, receiving a nod in confirmation. “Nice. You’d find the spy shit ridiculous anyway, it’s way below your level.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He makes a mental note to add the Bond movies to the list. 

“Speaking of stars,” you begin, gesturing to the machine. “I’m going to harness the power of the sun.”

“For what?” He doesn’t bother asking how, he already knows you’ve figured out something. 

“There’s a science exhibition and my team’s stupid solar car experiment isn’t working and I need it for them to win.” 

“So build a better one.” 

“No, ours is the best and if Jeff and his stupid baking soda volcano beat us then we’re going to have a murder on our hands.”

“Your hands,” he emphasises. He has nothing to do with this.

“I said what I said, boy.” You glare at him. “This is our problem now.”

“How much power are you taking?” If it’s insignificant enough, it wouldn’t matter much. He thinks. 

“The whole thing.”

He laughs. He stops when you don’t.

“You’re taking all the energy of the sun to power your shitty science model.”

“Your face is a shitty science model,” you mimic him in a higher pitched voice. “I will do anything to win.”

He wonders which grade kid you stole that insult from was in. There’s no way they were anything older than 13. He could use it on Steve, maybe.

“Everyone on Earth will die.” He feels the need to remind you, even though there was no way it was actually going to take place. Eat shit, Clint. This superseded the tristate area.

“Not for eight minutes.” You look at your watch. “And, if Jeff dies then I win by default.”

“You’ll die too,” he points out. 

“I’ll die a winner.” You nod seriously as if that makes it better. 

He’s not that worried. Experience tells him that you’re not a mass murderer willingly. 

“You’ll die an idiot.” 

“Only if you don’t stop me.” Your lips curve into a smile. “And how will you when I do this?”

You yank the machine to point towards him and slam the button. His hand reflectively pulls in front of him to defend himself. Something hits him with enough force to send him skidding backwards slightly. 

He removes his hand carefully from in front of him, looking at you. 

Something feels off.

“You just-”

The knives strapped to his thighs suddenly feel heavier.

“Took your powers?” you finish his thought. “Yeah.”

He feels his body tip towards his left. He’s suddenly very aware of the weight of the arm. Had it been this heavy all this while? 

“You’ve barely changed,” you noted, “You’re just regular Bucky but like, 20% less beef.”

After all, he was a boxer when he was a teen. One of the best men the Howling Commandos had even before the serum.

His shoulder feels heavier though. And somehow he thinks he’s sensing things a little less. He can’t really hear the faint buzzing of the generator downstairs anymore.

“Yep, that’s real muscle.” He turns when you poke at his shoulder. He doesn’t know when you got there. “You’re like a modern day Schwarzenegger. Grade A beefcake.”

He can’t see the construction site near the horizon as clearly as he used to. 

Something about this situation makes him feel like he’s going to have a midlife crisis, even though he’s overshot the age by a huge number. No one has a midlife crisis at 106. 

“Now that we’ve established that this works,” you say, back near the machine again. When did you walk there? “Let’s show this bitch that I’m the brightest star allowed in this solar system.” 

He shakes his head to jolt himself awake, shoves aside his mental dysfunction and breaks out into a sprint when you pull the device down to aim it at the sky. 

He latches onto the side, using his left hand to pull himself up, straddling the machine.

“Excuse me,” you exclaim like it’s a minor inconvenience and he feels the machine sway wildly under him. “You’re weighing it down, get off my inator.”  

You’re shooting recklessly, trying to shake him off. It’s not dissimilar to the mechanical bull Natasha made him ride during a mission down south so she could win money off placing bets on him. They had lobster that night.

He reaches down to its side, hoping to feel maybe a panel he can rip off. He finds nothing.  

He hopes none of the rays are actually hitting anything. It’s a little harder to stay on than he’d imagined it would be, and he thinks that maybe this wasn’t the best plan. 

He changes his mind in a split second, swinging himself over so that he can climb the underside of the machine like a monkey bar. He feels like a fucking insect. How was Peter not mortally embarrassed? 

He factors in the fact that his hands are getting clammier and his grip is slipping faster than usual. Also, he can taste his lunch at the back of his throat.

“Motherfucker,” Bucky curses when his hand slips, leaving him to hold on only by his metal arm. 

“You okay?” you call out, not giving him a second to recover unless he really needed it.

He lets out a grunt, swinging his arm up and catching hold of the antenna, yanking it down and towards the machine itself. He pulls himself up so that he’s straddling the machine again. 

One more shot and-

“Very smart, Barnes,” you say dryly, letting go of the handles. 

He sends you a sly grin before sliding down the barrel, kicking the large button with his heel right before he jumps off. 

The beam shoots out, instantly meeting with metal. The device automatically gives a mechanical groan before powering down, turning off altogether. 

“I hate you,” you huff, before noting his paleness. “D’you want some water? An IV maybe?”

He dismisses it with a wave of his hand, inhaling heavily to catch his breath.

He’s tired, more so than he would have been under any normal circumstance. He feels a little dizzy, a little disoriented. 

“Don’t worry, your magic powers will be back in a few minutes or so.” You examine the bent antenna, pressing the button and sighing when it stands there lifelessly. “Once Jeff wins, I’ll send the dry cleaning receipt to you. You can pay to get the tear stains out of the kids’ outfits.”

“Your tears or theirs?” He’s relieved about the powers returning, he thinks.

“Both, bitch.” Your eyebrow quirks at his retort. Clearly, he had more energy in him than people realised; his brain seemed to be working fine. He was stronger than you thought. Good for him. 

“You’re smart. You’ll figure something out.” He lets out a final exhale before standing up a little straighter. 

“Thanks. It’d be better if you asked your billionaire tech genius to send us something, but okay.”

“It’s a middle school science exhibition. Make a potato battery or something.”

You tsk-tsk. “No points for creativity, Mr. Barnes.”

It creeps into his mind without warning. He wonders if he actually wanted the powers back. Wonders what his life could be if he maybe retired, settled down. For the brief time he feels like his pre-war self, he starts to think like his pre-war self.

“I’m not the one who’s about to lose to a baking soda volcano,” he finds time to respond, however. 

“Your face is a baking soda volcano.” You narrow your eyes at him. “I will not lose.”

“You’re running out of time. Chop chop.”

But the thought hits him. Who is Bucky without his super soldier serum? If he doesn’t have his powers then he can’t think of what use he is to the Avengers.

Who the hell is Bucky if he can’t provide a service to others? How else does he make up for being himself?

His, what he’s now deemed, afterlife crisis is starting to look more apparent.

He compartmentalises and stores it away in a box. He’ll bring it up with his therapist later. 

“I’m going to win and then you’ll be sorry you weren’t a part of it because you didn’t let me steal the sun.” 

“If you win, I’ll still be glad I didn’t let you.” He climbs back down the ladder, feeling the ache in his muscles reduce with every passing minute. 

True to your word, his powers do return a while later. 

And while he’s watching Avatar: The Last Airbender with Peter in the living room two days later, his phone beeps with a text. 

It’s a picture of a blue first place ribbon next to a toy car that looks like it’s powered by a potato battery. Beside it is an out of focus middle finger that is aimed at him. 

Congratulations, he texts back. Told you potato batteries always win.

Your face always wins, he receives in return. He can’t tell if you’re insulting or flirting with him. 

He just shuts his phone off and goes back to watching the show. 

Next part

[sorryimanon]

Pairings: Bakugou x fem!Reader

Tags: 18+, dirty talk, explicit scenes, mutual masturbation, penetration, bakugou being a switch, reader is a dom, lots of back and forth between characters, slow burn

A/N: this was supposed to be divided into two parts but surprise, surprise! i got lazy :) i had so much writing this. this might be my favorite fic ive written so far! this is a loooong one. enjoy! 

P.S this is the unedited ver. I will posting the final on my AO3 account (sorryimanon)

-

Katsuki disliked her. No, he absolutely loathed her. Ever since she stepped foot into the classroom, it was destined for there to be a hostile barrier between the two of them. Granted, all she did was sweetly greet him like the rest of her fellow classmates, but Katsuki completely saw through her fading facade and ignored the kind gesture with a threatening showcase of his quirk.

"Being nice won't get you anywhere, baka," he snarled, glaring intensely at her all the while everyone watched the whole scene unfold.

He treated her like a foolish peasant after that initial encounter, disregarding her in any way shape or form as disgust shone through his eyes.

Y/N persevered the oncoming school years despite the blonde breathing down her neck consistently everyday. Katsuki's aggressive nature towards her subsided once graduation commenced, alluding to the blossoming maturity each student should have endured before branching off into hero work.

Not long after the celebratory succession, y/n bounced to several agencies that offered the same beneficial agreements for her. None caught her attention. Until one day she received a recommendation from Endeavor himself to work full time at his agency. Of course she accepted it and immediately wrote her sloppy signature down on the contract. Unbeknownst to her excitement, a separate copy of the contract was sent to another uprising hero around her age group.

So when she strutted in that morning of orientation, she never expected to see the very infamous Katsuki Bakugou slouched on one of the many chairs in the meeting room. Her throat tightened as she took a seat next to him, his height still freakishly tall even when they were just sitting. Staring straight forward to prevent from any means of eye contact with him, he lowered his head at her eye level and crooked a half smile.

"I'm gonna make you regret for even considering joining here, extra." A fleck of his spit hit the side of her face. Learning from her past encounters with Katsuki, y/n held her tongue in hopes for him to feel satisfied enough to leave her alone.

Thankfully their office hours were inconsistent to where they didn't intervene with each other, neither of them awkwardly meeting in the lobby or an elevator. However, sometimes y/n and Bakugou would desire the same craving for a caffeinated beverage and find themselves standing shoulder to shoulder by the coffee machine.

Bakugou likes his coffee black, she mentally jotted down as she intently watched his usual routine of preparing the beverage.

Like the asshole he is, Bakugou would purposely tip the mug and let a few trickles of the hot liquid burn her hand. He's done this every single time before he leaves y/n alone in the break room. Deep down, he relishes in the strained expression on her face when he inflicts the pain upon her. Thoughts danced across his head. Some involving him blasting y/n into the stratosphere to her kissing the tips of his boots for mercy. Either way, her being so submissive and, dare he say, a pussy to stand her ground sufficed him enough for the time being. But sometimes it pissed him off.

The constant harassment by the angry blonde went unnoticed by their other colleagues, including Endeavor, leaving y/n to prepare every morning to face the wrath of Katsuki Bakugou. His verbal abuse never wavered, occasionally whispering under his breath "weakling" or "stupid girl" whenever the pair were in the same room together. One time he sent her on a wild goose chase to find a missing case file that miraculously disappeared from her desk while she was copying something in the other room. Hours later, she soon discovers the said file tucked behind Katsuki's arm, snatching it from his grip and not once reprimanding him for wasting her time. Y/N eventually got used to it. Adapting to the annual insults of her work ethics and anything he could muster up from his sleeve. Both finally accepted their twisted dynamic, and became accustomed to the work lifestyle.

Months later, the dynamic soon changed when Endeavor announced an emergency meeting with everyone in the building. Apparently a new wave of villains have been reigning terror over the city, causing major damages and fatalities in a matter of weeks. Rumors started to circulate that the new generation of heroes don't have the capabilities to apprehend this group of evil doers. In the meeting, Endeavor made it clear for everyone to be partnered up before he dismisses them to patrol for the night, suggesting that pairing up with someone who is complimentary to your quirk is efficient for when dealing with these kinds of villains.

That's why y/n didn't voice her complaint when she inevitably got matched with Bakugou. His quirk alone was powerful already. With both of their quirks combined, there's no telling how the mission will go, but she surprisingly feels safe knowing he'll be sticking by her side throughout the rest of the night. It'll be a quick mission, then they'll return back to their previous mundane duties in the office. Back to Katsuki's mental and verbal torment.

"Could you move any slower?" Katsuki barked as both he and y/n were taking a quick stroll through the public park, scoping out for any signs of danger.

She was a step behind him, careful not to bump his shoulder or invade his space. She mumbled out a quick apology and fastened her pace, catching up to the man in gear. Tonight he wore his alternative hero costume, the design made specifically for when the temperature reaches an undesirable degree. The collar touched below the tip of his chin, his chiseled chest covered with the thick black material, and his arms protected from the cold with the addition of sleeves.  

"Fucking weakling..." she heard him mumble once they circled the perimeter again.

Bakugou insisted for them to scout out as many places as possible in hopes for an encounter. He desperately needs any excuse for some action, to use his quirk out of anger. Previously, they patrolled the empty plaza of Tatoone shopping center. Other heroes were there as well, but still no signs of any villains lurking in the dark. For the third time, they met up at the center of the park after making another round, both already tired of the tedious task.

"Just our fucking luck. Still no signs of those stupid villains. I guess we should patrol the outskirts of-."

A bright luminescent beam struck the middle of Bakugou's chest cavity, ricocheting him backwards to slam against the trunk of a large tree, knocking him unconscious instantly. Startled, y/n's eyes frantically searched for the perpetrator, only to meet a pair of glowing green orbs staring right back. She shifted her stance in preparation for their next attack, blocking Bakugou's lifeless body from the villains view. Another beam shot from the darkness, only this time y/n counter balanced the blow by rolling to side, the blast missing her by a couple of feet. Y/N quickly raised to her feet and ran head first towards the dark figure. Without preamble, the figure shot multiple beams at the hero, each one emitting from the void of their chest.

Y/N dodged the bright suffocating strips of light, her feet shuffling and heart racing due to the adrenaline rush. However, she miscalculated her next move which allowed the figure to strike her left shoulder when she was distracted for a split second. Pain shot throughout her shoulder blade. Eyes drawn to a close, her hand shot up to cradle the injury. The intense sensation started to spread from the upper half of her body to below. Everything suddenly became numb, including her sensors. She couldn't feel the tips of her digits nor move any part of her face. The muscles in her legs soon stopped contracting, resulting in her knees giving out. She felt the hard, coarse ground beneath her as the darkness began to swallow up her line of vision. The last thing she saw was a scuffed up Bakugou laying face flat on the drenched grass.

- Y/N stirred awake, lifting one of her half lidded eyes expecting to see the villain looming over her tired body. But all she saw was the popcorn ceiling sheltering her, an overhead fan turned on and the curtains tightly shut. She slowly inclined her body upright and peeled the covers from her clammy figure. Still in the process of waking up, she made her way to the attached bathroom by the bed and located the sink. She splashed the cold water on her face, letting the droplets drench the clothes she was currently wearing. Turning off the facet, she craned her head to view the damage on her shoulder in the mirror. But how come she couldn't recognize herself?

Tuffs of blonde spiked out from her head. Her eyes weren't the same color either. Red crimson irises replaced the ones she had before. The injury from last night on her shoulder wasn't there no more, but she took sight at how broad they became. And she wasn't wearing her typical pajama top and bottoms. This morning she was clad in a black tank top and a pair of soft sweat pants.

No, this can't be true. This has to be some sick nightmare. Jolting backwards on her heel, she let out a terrible shriek. After screaming for a good minute, she calmed down and rested her hands on the bathroom counter, transfixed on the reflection in front of her.

"I-I somehow transformed into Bakugou!" The deep timbre voice of bakugou replaced her own. She tugged on the unkept hair and knitted her eyes shut. "This is only a dream. I'm dreaming right? I can't possibly be in Bakugou's body."

A loud ringing noise alerted y/n to open her eyes again. It was coming from her bedroom. Correction, his bedroom. She glanced at herself in the mirror one more time before retrieving the phone that was stuffed in a green duffel bag. Her eyes widened. She recognized her phone number on the screen. Knowing the circumstances, she pressed answered and awaited for the receiver on the other end to speak.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!"

-

"So, we somehow switched bodies because of being struck by that villains quirk the other night. How long did they say this will last then?" Y/N questioned Bakugou the following morning once they agreed to meet up somewhere in private. Right now they were sitting across from each other on a stone bench by the lake, the morning sun peaking through the tall skyscrapers behind them.

Bakugou shrugged his shoulders, technically hers, and said, "Endeavor informed me it'll probably linger for a good week. He also wanted us to not be on duty till we recuperate from this, saying that the side effects will drain our bodies." He couldn't muster up the courage to stare at her, because all he would see is the reflection of himself. "Unfortunately the villain fled the scene before the others arrived to retrieve us. They're still out there causing havoc."

"This is freaking weird."

"Fucking."

Y/N tilted her head in confusion. Across from her, Bakugou pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in frustration.

"If you're gonna be me for a whole week then you might as well not sugar coat my vocabulary-dumbass."

Right, she now has to devote her time and effort into mirroring Bakugou's explosive personality. But that also means he too has to put on a show in order to persuade everyone he was her.

"Oh, okay..." she started but tensed up when realizing Bakugou was gazing expectantly at her. "D-Dumbass?"

Katsuki groaned as he rolled his eyes at her failed attempt of portraying him.

"This is going to be a long ass week."

- Bakugou grunted in disgust as he scavenged through y/n's closet for something to wear. Every piece of clothing so far hasn't met his criteria of approval to put on his body. There was an unnecessary amount of yoga pants and the most ugliest oversized graphic tees he's ever laid his eyes upon stored in her drawer. Growing up in a household of highly praised designers, the influence shifted his taste in fashion over the years. So, he made the rational decision to make a quick trip to the mall and purchase a few outfits for himself. Considering he's going to be in this body for a whole week, maybe even more, he might as well present himself looking ten times better than she ever has.

He tittered around the mall window shopping, entering store after store leaving with a handful of clothes in plastic and paper bags. So far he bought some outfits that edged a little on the fancy side, but paid no mind to his bank account. Bakugou guesstimated y/n's size during the venture, not wanting to pry or see what's underneath these restricting fabrics. He was about to leave when a frilly-pink themed store caught his attention.

It's a lingerie store, Bakugou thought as he neared closer to the entrance.

Posters inside the displays showcased attractive half naked women clad in nothing but the delicate material. Not to mention they were all posing seductively. An involuntary image of y/n flashed across his eyes, her imitating the same lustrous pose as well as wearing the sheer lingerie like the women behind the glass. Steams of heat practically blowed out from his ears, along with the embarrassing shade of pink panting his cheeks. He clamped a hand on his mouth, eyes widen in disbelief.

The fuck did I just imagine? There's no way in hell that just happened!

He must've been loitering there for awhile because a young girl, possibly his age, was standing in the threshold of the store wearing a pastel pink apron, giving him a welcoming smile.

She spoke, "Looking to shop for something, ma'am?"

Remembering back to y/n's distasteful clothing, he noted that she also lacked having any 'pretty' undergarments. It wasn't that he intentionally raided through her underwear, he just so happen to have stumbled upon the almost empty drawer by accident. In retrospect, he's doing her a favor. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Yes actually. Can you show me your most expensive set?" - "To your left! That dudes been camping by that spot since the match. He'll snipe you in the open!" Kirishima informed y/n as they both sat criss cross on the cushioned couch.

They've been playing the same game for hours. Y/N prayed for at least one water break or grab something quick to eat since they haven't moved an inch from their spots. Kirishima promised after this match he'll order some takeout for the both of them, but he said the same thing 8 matches ago. All she could do for now was pretend to be immersed in the game, getting a couple of impressive kills here and there, subsequently ranking her to a bronze level. Her digits were beginning to cramp up due to the repetitive moments of smashing down on the labeled buttons on the wireless controller. The screen across from them suddenly went dark and flashed the scoreboard from the recent match. Another successful victory.

"BOOYAAA!!!!" Kirishima clapped his hands and did a celebratory dance. "Ah, good game Bakugou."

Y/N flinched from hearing the blondes name.

"Kirishima, it's Y/N," she reluctantly reminded him.

Kirishima's whole demeanor went south. He chucked out a dry laugh and nervously started rubbing the back of his neck.

"R-Right sorry. Couldn't help myself. I mean, I am looking at Bakugou. Same face, voice, hair, and scary eyes."

After being battered by the villains quirk, Kirishima and Sun Eater were the ones to retrieve them before law enforcement shortly arrived once the perpetrator fled the scene. They were all under one strict oath to not mention this to the public, or else everyone’s image will tarnished and skew the potential of our future rankings.

"I know. I'm still trying to process this whole thing. I've been avoiding all the mirrors in the apartment since I came back." Y/N stood up from the couch and sauntered over to her designated bedroom for the week. She reached for the door handle but stiffened when a pair of hardened hands rested on her broad shoulders.

"Aye, don't worry so much. I bet you Bakugou is thinking the same thing. This week will be over before you know it," he absentmindedly began massaging the area between your shoulder blades and neck.

Does he always treat Bakugou like this despite that nasty little Pomeranian being a complete asshole to everyone?

"Kirishima?"

"Yeah?"

"What is Bakugou like around you?"

The red head hummed to himself at the random question, thinking of a perfect answer to her curiosity.

"The same how he was in high school except more tamer I guess. But I enjoy his presence none the less."

Then why does he seem to unleash his untamed feelings towards me specifically?

Y/N sighed, obviously not satisfied with that answer.

"Out of everybody, he seems to despise me more and more like it's a game," she said without realizing.

"You know how he is Y/N. He's very abrasive and blunt when it comes to other people's emotions, but deep down I know he only acts like that because he wants to present a strong image in front of everyone," he started. "He's scared of others looking down on him, I know that for sure. But I always looked up to Bakugou from the day I personally got to know him. So, I guess he just stayed by my side because of my admiration for him."

Bakugou is always putting up a front then.

"Interesting...well I'm gonna go to bed now. Thanks for keeping me company," y/n said once again reaching for the knob and opening the door, ignoring the red heads pleas for her not go to sleep on an empty stomach. -

The next day Bakugou found himself inside y/n's bathroom, feet firmly planted on the tiled floor not daring to move an inch. Even though he wasn't in his own body that didn't stop him from paying a visit to the gym this morning. He went extra hard on every machine, not caring about the wandering eyes men gave him while he dead lifted weights. Drenched in nothing but his own glistening sweat, Bakugou entered y/n's small apartment as he dragged his tired feet to the bedroom he was now familiarized with.

Something foul wafted into his nostrils, almost making him teary eyed to the stench. He tried to recall the last time he took a shower. Vaguely he remembers washing his body the morning before he got attack by the powerful quirk. It's been several days since then. This was one thing he didn't want to endure during his experience of switching bodies. He's been neglecting his own hygiene to avoid seeing y/n's exposed body parts. Changing out from her clothes with closed eyes was difficult enough, but taking a fucking shower?! Such a shitty predicament. But he can't smell like this for the remainder of being stuck in this body. He'll die of suffocation.

Ah fuck, that must mean she has to take a shower as well. Or worse, she already has and saw everything.

His eye twitched, lips trembling in fear at what he's about to witness.

Fuck it, I can't go out smelling like shit!

With shaky fingers he began stripping, eyes trained on anything but y/n's figure, the faint sound of the water streaming white noise to him. Her gym clothes piled on the floor, Katsuki slipped into the shower, head titled slightly to view only the shower head. He messed around with the chrome handle, indecisive on what temperature he wanted. Settled onto cold to awaken his sluggish state, he positioned himself under the shower head, goosebumps prickling his skin due to the sudden drop of temperature. Water droplets streamed down and canaled to his lower regions, the sensation relaxing his anxiousness just a smidge. He surveyed the options y/n had laid out for hair care products and grabbed the nearest one. Rubbing the body wash into the palms of his hands, he caught himself, arm mid raised getting ready to wash each crevice of his body.

Shit shit shit shit

The hand in front of him began shaking.

She won't know. It's not like I'm touching her sexually, I'm just keeping her clean for fucks sake!

As gentle as he could, Bakugou washed away the soapy residue, fingers cautiously ghosting over anything perking out. A moment too soon, he accidentally skimmed over her chest a little too fast, the tips of his fingers touching something that was hard and protruding. His breathing hitched.

I just felt her fucking nipple!

But fuck, it strangely felt quite pleasant. Pleasurable even if he had to admit.

He continued on with his previous ministrations, cupping her boobs like a madman and swiping one thumb over the taunt surface to test the waters. A fierce, tingling sensation surged shivers down his spine. An unsolicited low moan spurred out from the blonde.

"Hah!"

What the hell?! Why am I still touching her tits? And why am I enjoying it?

Finishing up his routine quickly, Bakugou snatched a towel from the cabinet and rubbed away all the sinful thoughts desperately from his head, a constant fight between his morals and neediness. Nobody will never know what he committed in the confines of her own apartment. And it'll fucking stay like that till on his death bed.

I practically assaulted her. I'm so fucking disgusting

For the rest of the remaining day, Bakugou planned on meeting up with Kirishima to hangout. He wanted to coerce the red head into talking about anything other than y/n. His mind needs the relief. He needs this spell to be over with.

He can't stand trying to fit into women's jeans any longer - Kirishima woke up that morning to a chorus of shrieks. Girlish shrieks, might he add. He thought maybe the neighbors were selfishly doing not-so-holy-things at the peak of dawn. But him and Katsuki were resided on the highest level of the penthouse, them being the only residents on the empty floor. It clicked once he heard his name through the thin walls.

"Ah! Y/N I'm coming!" He leaped from his bed and reached y/n's, technically Bakugou's, room in a matter of seconds.

Y/N's body twitched to the sound of the door being slammed open, the impact rattling the very few wall decorations in the blondes space. Standing in the threshold was the friendly red head, huffing and puffing air out of his chest like he just got done running a marathon.

"K-Kiri! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to wake you up!" Her words afterwards became a jumbled mess, realizing the predicament she pushed herself into.

"Hey, hey, calm down! Tell me what's wrong. It sounded like you were in pain. Did you hurt yourself anywhere?" The red had to remind himself this was indeed another person inside Bakugou's body, because Bakugou would never apologize repeatedly for the sake of apologizing in his entire life.

Y/N was looking quite pallid now, sheepishly tugging on the black covers of the bed, trying to find the easiest way on how to lay this out to her new roommate.

"Well...I just...I woke up to - ah crap."

Instead of explaining her situation, she pulled back the blanket to show kiri the thing protruding between her uncommonly, muscular legs. Kirishima's eyes widen instantaneously, eating up the pitched tent inside her basketball shorts. Oddly enough, this wasn't his first rodeo upon seeing the blonde with a boner. They were dudes. And dudes living together were bound to witness each other's 'flesh swords', he'd like to put it.

"Oh, morning wood? That's pretty normal. Nothing to fret y/n!" He dismissed her with the wave of his hand. "Bakugou gets them all the time! In fact, I remember he'd get them after sparring sessions back in our U.A days-."

"Okayyyyy, Never mind that! I know I have a boner. Just exactly how do I get rid of it?!"

"You mean, you don't know? Haven't you been taught this in Sex Ed class?" Kiri was actually curious as to why she doesn't know nor remember. He surly does. Learning about the human body by the infamous sultry teacher, Midnight, engraved so much information into his tiny-teenage brain.

"That was considered an extra curricular class. I took a CPR class instead."

"Right well, from what she taught us and from my own personal experience, you gotta rub one out."

Y/N's whole face contorted into a confused mess of disgust.

"Rub a what now?" She asked, although she had a feeling what the euphemism meant.

Kiri's face blotched red, the tint flushing to his chest as well. The man was evidently embarrassed about having this conversation with someone who wasn't Bakugou.

"I essentially mean you gotta masturbate. Ya know, in order to calm down your boner," he paused seeing how distraught y/n became. "It won't hurt I promise you! Don't worry, it feels really good! Like, eating ice cream good! Ah no that's not a good analogy!"

"This is so fucking horrifying..." Y/N poked at the thing, rightfully known as his dick, and kept starring as if it might miraculously subside to its original size.

Kiri coughed, grabbing her attention away from Bakugou's dick.

"He has lotion stashed in his drawer," he started, but malfunctioned seconds later. He revealed something private to someone that bakugou condemned as a 'weakling'. "That is if you need it for lubricant. It's kind of tough to jerk off dry..." his sentence fell off midway.

Y/N mumbled out an "Ok", and retrieved said lotion from the lower bunk of his drawers. She felt a pair of eyes on her. Kiri was still standing awkwardly by the doorway, unsure wether or not if that's his cue to leave.

"Um, thanks Kiri. You can leave now," she plopped back onto Bakugou's king sized bed.

This man sleeps alone. He doesn't need a ginormous bed all to himself.

"R-Right! Well, enjoy jerking off- ah no I meant - I didn't word that correctly! Ah geez, see ya later!" He sprinted out the door like his life depended on it.

Locking the door behind her, y/n forced herself into the attached bathroom, the lotion burning the palms of her hand each second. Once she settled down on the lid of the toilet, she shimmied out from his loose basketball shorts, letting them pool at her ankles.

If there's one thing she learned that morning, it was that being a man had its weird benefits. - "Slow down Bakugou! Let me at least catch up before you black out!" Kirishima was on his third shot while Bakugou just downed his sixth one for the night.

The blonde growled under his breath and tugged the red head by his collar to his mouth.

"Fucking idiot, don't call me that. It's y/n when we're out in public," he loosens his grip and snatches kiri's shot and tips his head back to drain it all down his throat, the burning sensation long gone.

"Ugh, my brain can't keep up with this whole switching body shit. It's been so hard back at the apartment." He internally cringes from the recollection of y/n popping her first boner this morning.

"What do you mean? Has that dumbass been giving you a hard time? If she has, I'll give her a piece of my mind."

"Not at all! She's been a saint while living with me. Which by the way, how come you can't just live at the penthouse while y/n stays at her place?

While Kirishima was talking, Bakugou ordered another round of shots. The bartender shoved a whole bottle of Fireball towards the man, saving him in the future to not ask anymore. The young server gave Bakugou a sly wink and returned back to serving other customers down the line. Cheeks flushed red, Bakugou thinks the man behind the bar was being too nice for his liking. He poured two more shots while keeping an eye on the average looking employee. If kirishima kept babbling, he might as well funnel the entire bottle in one sitting.

"I'm just following endeavors orders. We're not supposed to gain attention from those stupid reporters that camp outside our penthouse," he takes another swing of the warm liquid. "I'd rather fucking be quirkless than mistaken for having any rumored relations with her."

"Can I ask a genuine question? How come you hate y/n so much?"

"I don't hate her, I dislike her. There's a difference."

"I don't know man. Sometimes I mistaken your dislike with love."

"EXCUSE ME? IM NOT IN LOVE OF THAT BITCH?!"

"C'mon dude, I'm sensing a lot of denial from you. Also, shouldn't you be acting like her right now? She's very soft spoken if I'm not mistaken,"

"I'm not in denial idiot. I hate how soft she speaks. I hate how sickeningly kind she is even though nobody deserves it. I hate how she wastes her talented quirk and doesn't see the potential. She's a lost cause Kiri. She won't last for much longer in this field if she keeps this up."

"Wow, for someone who dislikes her as such, you surly sound like you care about heeeerrrrrr," kirshima drawled out in a sing-song voice.

"Shut up and finish your shot, shitty hair."

When the blonde was driving back to her apartment later that night, he slammed his fists against the steering wheel when an afterthought came to him.

His whole reasoning as to why he went out in the first place, and he can't seem to restrict himself from talking about the girl he's trapped in.

Even in this goddamn body I can't seem to steer clear from y/n talk! - Izuku had to do a double take when he entered the small coffee shop. Something about seeing the pensive blonde sitting patiently in a booth by the corner really made him feel like he was sucked into another dimension. Today y/n was wearing a white v-neck with a wool green cardigan and tight black jeans.

Kacchan owns cardigans? He thought, clearly amused.

Upon hearing the ding coming from the door, Y/N raised her head from her phone and waved Izuku over to her table. The poor man seemed like he was going combust right there. It's been awhile since he's spoken to his old classmate.

The green haired hero slid into the booth across from her and immediately started speaking Deku language.

"H-Hey Kacchan! Boy it's been awhile hasn't it? I was a little stunned seeing your message this morning asking to hangout. I'm sorry that I couldn't meet up sooner. I had an early patrol shift from 9 to 5. You might know how that feels, right?! Oh gosh I'm sounding like an adult. Can you believe we're adults-."

"Midor- I mean Deku, I called you up to ask about if you have any leads on the villain with the body switching quirk?" She cut him off.

"Oh yeah, that villain has been spotted a few times since the last attack. Of course most of my team hasn't been able to reprimand them. A few close calls though. But I heard two people from your sector got hit by the quirk! Are they doing okay?"

I hate lying to those big freaking green eyes.

"That's not true. They got hurt, but no one was attacked by their quirk. I just need to know if you have any information on the quirk in particular and what to do in order to reverse it."

Underneath the table, Izuku fumbled inside his pockets in search for his mini notebook. He still obtained the habit of jotting down everything, literally everything, in hopes the information will provide any source of aide. Izuku became all jittery and excited at the thought of sharing anything with Kacchan!

The small, crinkled notebook was slid across the table, hitting the tips of y/n's knuckles.

"Page 124, the first indent I wrote. It's mainly about my own conspiracy on what the villains quirk is. That was before their first debut of course. But now since we know it's a type of body switching quirk, I tried to pin point on what exactly lifts the quirks effect on the victim," Izuku explained casually while y/n skimmed through the notes and passages. "I did a little detective work on my own and contacted the people who were attacked by the villain. From what I gathered, let's just say- it's a bit taboo ."

This piqued her interest.

"What do you mean by, taboo?"

The man began to wave his hands around fervently in attempt to steer the blonde away from prying more. But y/n swatted Izuku's hand and continued reading the sloppy inscriptions.

Her eyes popped out from her sockets.

"I have to what?!" A few civilians stared in their direction, obviously gravitated to the familiar gruff voice.

"Calm down Kacchan! Why are you so angry for?"

Y/N rubbed her temple all the while wanting to slowly die than endure anymore of this.

"Nothing. Just- Ugh...Is it alright if I borrow this?"

"Y-Yeah! Kacchan can borrow anything from me as long as he returns it!" There was that gleam again in his eyes.

"Thanks Izuku, I owe you one!" She squeezed the greenettes freckled hand before leaving the booth and the shop all together.

Still in the cafe, Izuku sat frozen as if someone walked in with gun. Internally though, he was screaming. -

Y/N: Please call me. It's urgent

It was a Friday night when Bakugou received the cryptic message from her. He was in the middle of  watching his true crime show when the annoying ding from his phone went off. For once, he just wanted to relax his mind and go on auto pilot without stressing his already strained body. It's the whole principle of Friday's. To fuck off and ignore everyone. What's so fucking important for her to text him out of the blue then?

Another acute ding.

Bakugou peeked over his shoulder to see who disrupted him this time.

Y/N: Bakugou, we need to talk. This isn't something to ignore.

He rolled his eyes and retrained his focus on the tv screen.

Ding Ding Ding

"FOR FUCK SAKE!" He released an animalistic growl from the depths of his throat, scratching his voice box even more. His fingers typed away aggressively, not bothering to read her previous messages.

BK: Leave me the fuck alone. You're to only text me if it involves with the reverse of this stupid quirk 🖕🏼

Three dots appeared immediately after he sent that. Bakugou started losing his patience while waiting for her response. He hated wasting precious time, especially if there was a second party involved. Her message finally delivered. Bakugou's eyes grew larger in size as he read the text.

Y/N: that's why I'm texting you idiot 🙄 I met up with Midoriya today and he may have given me the solution to our problem.

He bit down hard on his bottom lip as he typed out his last text message to her.

BK: fine. come over then. we can talk about it when you get here.

This time he didn't wait for her to respond back and began cleaning her apartment. - Feeling nervous was an understatement. Y/N felt like she was driving herself to her own execution. Bakugou being the one to carry out the death sentence. She didn't doubt the blonde would be elated at the idea of her being put under a torture device.

Okay, maybe he wasn't too malice to actually do it, but he probably entertained the thought.

Thankfully Bakugou's penthouse wasn't far from her own apartment, saving her much needed gas in case he goes ballistic on her.

The door flew open when she arrived shortly after one knock, revealing a very sluggish looking Y/N shooting daggers at her. Well, at least her body wasn't dressed in bruises or burn marks. That's a win. Bakugou paired herself with a cute crop top and silky pajama shorts. He's got taste she'll give him that.

Her apartment remained exactly the same as she left it when they both were ordered to switch residency's.  Only a few traces of Bakugou were found. Mainly in the kitchen, where all his fancy cooking equipment and utensils were laid out. Unlike him, she ate out almost every night due to the red head being incompetent in the kitchen. He almost burnt down the complex last night. He relied upon his friend to do most of the cooking in their household.

The blonde briskly brushed passed her to sit on the couch, slinging his feet on the coffee table to make himself comfortable. Too comfortable, she noted.

"Well, spill it. What did the damn nerd tell you that could help us with this shit?" He inquired without preamble.

Like a hero, she was here on a mission. A mission that needs to be completed as soon as possible, even if the mission itself was ludicrous. She reached into her jacket pocket to retrieve the mini book, and flipped soundlessly to the page Izuku marked for her.

"On here it says that the quirk can last up to a week, maybe even more, depending on the victim(s). The effected will experience dry eyes, nausea, insomnia, painful migraines, and uncontrollable shaking due to being inside another persons body. They must let the quirk take its course then," she read out loud, ignoring Bakugou's groans of annoyance. "But, for rare cases, there have been reports of one's libido being greatly impacted. The victim will be in constant, insurmountable pain unless they relief themselves, then the two bodies will return back to normal."

To her surprise, Bakugou didn't show an ounce of indignation after hearing this piece of information. He seemed almost indifferent.

And there's no denying the truth. Both of their hormones have been off the rails. Ever since the incident in the shower, Bakugou has caught himself numerous times touching Y/N's boobs. Coping a sly feel as he cooked, cleaned, and even while he scrolled through his social media.  Sometimes her ass as well to see if it felt good in his hands. Y/N was no saint either. Sporting boners every hour for no particular reason. All the blood rushing to her lower region became unbearable when she didn't take care of it. Kirishima kept reassuring her that it's natural for a man to get them a lot. But how much was too much?

He threw his hands up in the air and scoffs. "That's it? I just gotta jack off and then we're free from this curse?"

This is the part she dreaded the most. An uncomfortable heat flash roused up her face, a deep shade of red inching across her cheeks and nose.

"No. That's not what it means. We basically have to...ya know...," she paused mid sentence, too bashful to finish, desperately wanting Bakugou to put two and two together.

She shrunk in her position as the blonde narrowed his eyes at her.

"We have to fuck each other?" He profoundly acclaimed.

"Don't put it like that! But yeah, technically, we have to...help relief each other in order to switch back."

"If you wanted to jump my bones so bad you could've just asked." He leans back against the couch, arm draped lazily over the shoulder of the furniture, along with a playful smirk tugging up on the corners of his mouth. Y/N's blood ran cold when she felt the tiniest twitch down below. Her borrowed reproductive organ is betraying her!

"Do you want to be in constant pain till this all wears off? Or do you want to get this over with and never talk to each other again?" Y/N shuffled more towards the abrasive man, a strong tidal wave of anger rising within her.

"It won't matter because you always wound up in my presence anyway. Like a fucking pest that won't leave me alone." Without realizing it, Bakugou got up from his spot on the couch and marched over to Y/N, who at the moment looked like she was about to pop a blood vessel.

Another thing he hated about switching bodies was the fact that everyone towered over him, despite him being on his tippy toes. The woman in front of him acclimated his height, giving her the upperhand if they were to battle it out right now. If anything he could kick her shins at best.

"Whatever...I'm leaving," was all she said before storming off to the front door, grabbing her things along with her as she grew farther from him.

Katsuki's legs were moving on their own. His hand reached out and grabbed Y/N's forearm, halting her movements altogether. She's clearly enraged, thrashing her body back and forth to loosen his grip on her. He eventually grew tired of her stubborness and secured his grip on both of her arms, trapping her between the door and his body, producing a loud 'thump!'. Although he was in her body, he still carried his strength. In a matter of seconds, both Y/N and Bakugou were chest to chest now, their centers tapping aganist each other.  She averted her gaze to the floor, as if their shoes were more interesting than this whole shitshow of a dilema. Bakugou squeezed her shoudlers, a little too much for her liking, to gain her attention again.

"I didn't say no, did I?" he asked hotly, his warm breath hitting her collarbones. An ice cold shiver ran down her spine, causing her breathing to hitch. Bakugou noticed her sudden stiffness and began rubbing gentle circles into the tender flesh of her skin. "Hoho, someone's excited aren't they?"

Confused, Y/N furrowed her brows and backed up further into the wooden door. But her question was soon to be answered as she followed Bakugou's hungry gaze to the prominent bludge taunting from her pants. Betrayed once again by her unstable horniness!

"Guess I'm not the only one," she accuses once spotting the definite wet stain around Bakugou's crotch. He smirked at that.

"Take care of it then," his voice oozed of seduction and want, rewarding him another twitch in your tight pants. The libido was taking full effect now, any animosity they had before was thrown out the window. Past arguments also long forgotten. Their main priority at the moment was to experience the sweet relief of coming undone.

Y/N darted her hand down to the spot Bakugou needed attention from, and cupped his crotch with her abnormally large hand. Bakugou lets out a shaky exhale as her fingers danced around the sensitive area. One of her fingers moved instinctively, feeling how drenched he was in his panties, and rubbed the underside to get a better feel of the sex.

"You're so wet Bakugou," Y/N mused softly. She leaned forward, searching into Bakugou's eyes for any signs of him wanting this to end. But the pool of his irises were blown out, no tint of your original color in them anymore. "Do you want more?"

He nodded quickly, his hair bobbing up and down. Y/N chuckled and removed her hand from its previous position to the hem of Bakugou's shorts, teasingly toying the waistband. She slipped smoothly into his shorts, tickling him in the process, and toyed with the corners of his panties before moving them aside so she could have access to the thing she's been craving to touch. Wetness lathered up her fingers with just one swipe, causing Bakugou to purse his lips and shut his eyes tightly.

"Is Bakugou embarrassed? Are you mad that I have the upper hand now? After all those years of verbally tormenting me, you can't handle my simple touch?" She whispered dangerously close into his ear. During this, she couldn't tell if he was pissed or turned on. Maybe a mixture of both, but she took pride in his strained expression.

"W-Watch your goddamn mouth. Or do I need to shut you up myself, eh?" By shutting her up, he meant mirroring her exact ministrations. The petite hand of Bakugou's latched onto the zipper of her jeans, and impressively dragged it down in one swipe without getting anything caught. He reached into the tight restraints of her boxer briefs and pulled out the hardened dick. He clicked his tongue. "Not to sound like a narcissist, but you gotta admit, my dick looks pretty."

"Just shut up and jerk me off you asshole. I'm starting to see stars," She wasn't lying to speed up the process. Her body felt like it was on fire, including her dick. If Bakugou keeps stalling for the sake of punishing her, then he's going to be seeing white for days on end.

Bakugou tentatively began pumping her, his grip not too tight nor loose on the flesh. Y/N sighed in relief as he swiped his thumb over the slit, covering his fingers in her precum. Seeing that he's giving into her needs, she returned the favor by inserting her index finger inside, not allowing him to adjust once she massaged the velvety walls.

Bakugou arched into Y/N's body, panting harshly against her chest. "H-Hah fuck, slow down. Shit!"

"Take it like a champ, Mr.Dynamight."

"F-Fuck you."

Oh no. Probably shouldn't have patronized him, because Bakugou sped up his languid motions to pure vigorous jerking of the hand. A wave of pleasure shot up through her body, jolting backwards due to the intense sensation. Of course he's a pro at this. What isn't he good at?

Bakugou rested his head onto the crevice of your shoulder since he could only reach so far, and ghosted his lips on the skin, carefully restricting himself to not engage in kissing the area. While doing so, he cupped the underside of your balls, rolling them around in his small hands. They looked so big when being manhandled in her grasp. Y/N stifled her moans as he kept messing with them, all the while stroking her simultaneously. She felt him smile. The cheeky fucker! Two could play it at this game.

Y/N used one of her thumbs that weren't preoccupied inside Bakugou to massage the only place she knew that could make him cum in seconds.  Two fingers inside, one thumb attentively on the clitorous. It was enough to make Bakugou bite down on her shoulder, trying to prevent any moans from escaping his mouth.

"Moan for me Bakugou. I know you want to," she tried to persuade him with more strokes to the clit, occasionally pinching it with her unoccupied fingers. She can feel he was close. So was she. But she needed to coerce him into helping her to finish too. They need to be a team. "Say something Bakugou. Don't you want to cum? If you don't speak your mind I'm going to stop." She couldn't believe the words that were spewing from her mouth. Y/N has never dirty talked before. Nor has she gotten this far with anyone without freezing up. Definitely the libido effect.

Bakugou detached his teeth from her shoulder and stared deeply into her eyes. Pleading.

"Go faster. Please." The want and neediness in his voice said it all.

He indeed felt vulnerable and exposed right then and there when confessing his desire, but he couldn't care less. Her fingers inside him were heavenly. A mantra of ,"yesyesyesyesyesyes", left his throat as her ministrations didn't falter.

"Fuck! Keep going. Just like that- shit - just like that... yesssss." His moans were beautiful. Not because they sounded like hers, but the way how he vocalizes his pleasure made sense in the world. Every whimper or moan puts her closer to the edge.

"Are you- are you about to?" He asked quietly, as though he was afraid you might stop at any rate.

"Yes! So close, just keep stroking," it was difficult to form sentences after that, the build up tension in your stomach tightening like a ticking time bomb, making your pleads indecipherable.

But Bakugou didn't want to hear that. He wanted to her to say those three words of encouragement.

Make. Me. Cum

And then, as if his thoughts were broadcasted live, she snaked her hands into the locks of his hair and pulled him close to where the tips of their noses touched briskly.

In a small voice she whimpers out, "Make me cum, Katsuki."

Listening to her instructions, his grip tightened around the base of her shaft and began teasing the slit, never once averting his glare from her own. Y/N's legs turned into jello. It became harder and harder to stand any longer. She needed to release. She quickened her pace and brutally scissored his pussy, the erotic sounds of their wetness reverberating in the tiny apartment.

"Cum then baby. Cum for me only."

Baby

Next thing she knew a strip of white shot out from below, dirtying the hands of Bakugou's. Her body began to spasm. Katsuki didn't loosen his grip, the stimulation becoming unbearable at this point.

The coil within him loosened, the evidence of his climax coating her fingers, allowing his orgasum to reach its full potential.

The pair blacked out for a split second, but recuperated once the light hit their corneas again.

"Shit." "Fuck." "..." "..."

Silence. Then the realization hit.

"I'm staring at you and not me! It worked! Hallelujah!" Y/N exclaimed, feeling herself to make sure it wasn't a hallucination.

"Gross. You got cum all over my expensive shirt," he said, wiping away the white substance with his sleeve.

Both of them went into the kitchen to clean the after math. Bakugou would grunt occasionally in disgust, sponging away the grime. Y/N throughly washed her hands and towel dried them, thoughts stiffly empty and vexed. She broke the awkward tension.

"Well, I guess we should call Endeavor and inform him that we switched back."

He hummed in agreement.

"And we should probably exchange our things tomorrow or tonight, but preferably soon since we're going to be on duty again."

Another grunt.

"Don't worry about me mentioning this to anyone. We can just keep whatever happened minutes ago between us-

Bakugou cut her off entirely by smashing his lips against hers. Shell shocked by his action, Y/N kept her eyes wide open whilst Bakugou's were knitted shut. She laid her hands on his chest and shoved him away harshly, putting their distance at arms reach.

"Bakugou, what the hell? All of sudden you want to kiss me?" Y/N's face fell, contorting into a mixture of sadness and confusion. "You only kiss people you like. Not hate."

Bakugou moved towards Y/N slowly, a hint of a smile forming as he neared closer.

"And that's exactly why I did it, idiot," he proclaimed confidently, cupping the side of her face. The touch was so tender and gentle she forgot that it was Bakugou at first.

"You're toying with me, aren't you? The libido is probably still lingering. If you really liked me, then tell me the exact moment you did."

Without hesitation he said, "The first day of school. When you walked in."

Y/N slapped the hand from her face, her skin flushing red by his blunt confession.

"Stop lying. You were mean to me the first day of school. And every day after that. I don't think calling people a "weakling" or "stupid" constitutes as liking someone."

All he did was chuckle and continued scooting closer, eventually towering above her. She squirmed underneath him. She secretly missed having his height.

"You're absolutely stupid if you think I really meant any of that crap. I may have gone overboard on the whole berating thing, but that was just my way of pushing my feelings away, in hopes you'd improve better and not take shit from people like me."  

"Ya know, it's kind of hard to detect that when you were practically spitting on my face."

He leaned down and pecked a chaste kiss on the crown of her forehead.

"You can call me all the names you want later. Kick my ass if ya want, but for now let me make it up to you," he whispers before planting his mouth to hers again, only this time she didn't protest.

Heat swirled within her as she watched Katsuki's eyes flutter close, enriched in the moment to open them, and gripped the base of her neck to apply more pressure into the kiss. The man guided her as he moved his plushed lips ontop of hers, consuming the pretty noises she made. And my, were they absoultey rich coming from her.

I want to hear more, the selfish thought banged repeatedly inside his lust filled mind.

Y/N nervosuly closed her eyes shut when Katsuki's wet tongue prodded the entrance of her tight, lipped mouth. Letting him take full control, Katsuki managed to enter the strong muscle into her wet mouth and explored the canvernous place with such eagerness, such tenacity. Like he's been dying to do this for as long as his skillful mind can remember. Y/N found herself moaning as Katsuki grabbed her waist and forcefully collieded their bodies together, her soft breasts pressed up against his hard chest. Her perky tits put him in a trance, remincseing back to the day when first touched them, the guiltiness eating him up from the inside-out. Katsuki slithered one of his hands to the taunt boob and gave it a firm squeeze, causing Y/N to squeak out in embarrasement. They still feel fucking amazing in his hands.

"You're so fucking cute," he drew back from her, already out of breath. Everything was hitting him like a tsunami. He can finally admit to himself that he's been wanting this since they became co-workers. Hell, since the fucking beginning. Younger Katsuki would deem him as a horny loser who lost at his own game, but he wasn't a damn kid anymore.

"K-Katsuki...bedroom?" her hands found their way back into his crisp locks, futher egging him to comply. The small action made him moan.

"Fuck yes," Katsuki growled out and in a haste hooked his arms underneath the back of Y/N's thighs, hoisting her in the air to lead them into the bedroom they're both familair with.

Journeying to her bedroom became a difficult task. If only she'd stop giving his neck, the most sensitve spot out of his entire body, kitten kisses then he'd be plowing her back by now. He grew weaker by the second as the shy, acute kisses trandsitioned into full on sucking and biting. Not that he was complaining.

Katsuki threw her down onto the bed, unable to contain his smile when she hiccuped a chorus of giggles. God, even her giggles are fucking contagious. Strong arms scooped her up momentarily, bringing her to the center of the bed. Grazing her aching spot was Katsuki's growing buldge. Y/N circled her arms around his tiny waist squeezing him closely as Katsuki rolled his hips downwards to meet hers. She seized Katsuki's bicep, whimpering, and rythmically pushed her groin towards his, the tin material of her shorts scraping the surface of his jeans deliciously. His head dragged down to her collarbones, panting softly, wetting the skin from the condesation of his breath.

"I want you so fucking bad, please," he managed to choke out in between the continous grinding.

Gaining a newfound confidence, Y/N mimiced the way how Bakugou unzipped her when they were still in opposite bodies and peeled back his briefs till his inflamed member popped out, smacking his lower belly. He cursed under his breath noticing the immense amount of pre-cum leaking from the head. As much as she wanted to lick it all up, there were other things to tend to. She shimmied out from her skimpy shorts and crop top, not wasting any time for lingering touches. But Y/N caught a menacing glare in his eyes. His attention was focused on something else. Looking down, she saw that she was sporting a sheer laced bra with matching panties. She definitely doesn't remember having these in her personal closet.

"You bought me lingerie?" Y/N tried to sound unfazed at the thought of Katsuki willingly purchasing these pretty undergarments for her. That must mean he's seen her boobs!

"Yeah? So what if I did. Your sense of fashion is nonexistent. I pitied you that much to where I bought you shit with my own money."

His face was stern, scarily resembling the times he'd be bashing someone's head on the concrete during a bloody battle. But his eyes told a different story. She couldn't quite pin point the time or place when she witnessed the same gleaming spark in those vermilion orbs, but she felt safe and wanted all in one.

So she began teasing the straps of her bra, head still in disbelief that the blonde underneath her bought it, and let the material slip off her shoulder seductively. Bakugou's breathing quickened as he watched y/n toy with the next strap. He stopped her midway.

"No," his fingers were ironically cold.

"No?" She questioned him, awkwardly frozen still on his lap. His evident boner pushing up against her sex, making her wet even more.

Numbly, Bakugou pulled up both of the straps to her bra and chuckled lightly to himself.

"I wanna fuck you with this on. It's been on my mind since I bought it," he admitted out loud.

Y/N held back a moan, his words carrying so much weight to them all the while directing it straight to her drenched pussy.

Without saying a word, y/n left acute kisses on Bakugou's neck, trailing it down further and further till she reached the leaking head of his member. He became antsy as she wrapped her petite hand around the base, fingers tracing the topography of his veins. Y/N saw the desperate look on his face and took all of him in her mouth, holding in the breath of oxygen she took before doing so. Bakugou hissed, teeth clamping down on his bottom lip nearly ripping the skin apart. This feels way better and more appropriate. He prefers her wet mouth over her fingers any day of the week.

Y/N sucked in her cheeks, allowing herself to take more of his member. The tip of his head eventually hit the back of her throat, causing her to gag and choke due to the sudden pressure.

"F-Fuck. Holy shit, keep going," Katsuki begged, tears swelling in his ducts already.

The saliva from her open mouth created a natural lubricant, making it easy for her to bob her head up and down. Bakugou's ears picked up the erotic wet squelching sounds coming from her as she kept up the brutal pace, the noise alone making him want to come undone. The sight of y/n slobbering on his dick is now engraved in his head. He let out a wanton moan when she played with his balls, recalling the memory of him performing the same ministration on himself with her beautiful hands.

He can feel the familiar sensation spreading down below, his throat constricting as the stimulation of her sucking and licking becoming too much. Before she could continue, Bakugou reached over and lifted her head by her hair.

"I can't hold it in any longer. I need to be inside you now," his voice was strained to point where it came out as a whisper.

Pushing her back gently, Bakugou latched his mouth onto hers as he spread her legs wide apart. Revealing a canal of her wetness dripping from her panties to the inner thighs. Bakugou licked his lips hungrily. Mentally slapping himself for not tasting her before she gave him head. He'll make sure to explore that endeavor later.

Lips still locked, Bakugou tugged the bottom half of her laced panties aside, strings of her glistening wetness shimmering, and positioned himself at her aching entrance. The tip of his cock teased her folds, coating it even more. He agonizingly went in slow circles, occasionally slapping her clit with it. Y/N's arms were above her head, clutching the linen sheets in anticipation. Katsuki smirked against her lips at her wrecked expression.

"Bakugou please...," y/n pleaded with her full chest. She wants to know how it feels to be wrapped around him. To be one with him. "Don't hold back. Just fuck me."

Bakugou's eyes grew darker after the demand, pure lust taking control over his body now. He sheathed into her quickly without taking his eyes off of her face. A quiet whimper left her throat when he fully bottomed out. He checked for any signs of y/n looking displeased or uncomfortable, but he got his answer when he felt her legs wrap around his torso, pulling him in as close as possible. Bakugou basks in at the sight of y/n sucking him completely, her legs fully bent back in an awkward position. He decides to pull his cock halfway out. y/n whimpers due to loss of friction but gets rewarded seconds later when Katsuki rams his cock inside again, pushing all his weight onto her.

"Oh, fuck, Katsuki!," she whines, instinctively clutching her walls around him.

"You're so tight for me huh baby? Can't help but to clamp around this dick," Katsuki sneered while pumping tentative thrusts into her.

His hands clasped both of her thighs now, pulling her towards him, urging her to move in a harmonious dance with him. Finding somewhat of a rhythm, y/n fucked Katsuki back by rolling her hips, a synapse of heat exchanging between them. Sweat starts dripping down from the crown of his forehead onto the peaks of her breasts. Lost in thought, he tipped his head forward and lapped up the remains of his salty musk, tongue expertly twirling around the taunt nipple. Y/N mewled, hands searching - reaching - for anything to ground herself, settling on interlocking her fingers with Katsuki's nitroglycerin drenched hands. She titled her head and took a whiff.

Caramel and soap

A popping sound went off in her ears. Katsuki released her swollen tit only to look up with hooded eyes, his infamous smirk on full display.

"Open your mouth," was all he said before raising one of his fingers that she was so embarrassingly fixated on moments ago. When she didn't obey Katsuki grabbed her by the jaw and shoved not one, not two, but three fingers in her mouth. Like with his cock, she couldn't handle the intensified pressure in the back of her throat, gagging instantaneously.

"Atta girl. Just take my fingers like a good bitch. Oh? You like it when I degrade you huh? Don't lie, you tightened instantly when I said that." Katsukis pace sped up rapidly, pumping into her cunt like a madman, fingers still lodge down her throat. Each thrust left her shuddering for more, his hips meeting hers to create a loud song, the noise drowning out her muffled screams.

It became hard to see now, a tunnel vision of just a crimson glow. Soon she feels herself becoming light. Katsuki grew impatient and flipped y/n on her stomach, a tiny oof rocked out from her, and inserted his member back into her stretched out cunt.

Y/N yelps as Katsuki's cock hits the sweet spot - fresh tears flooding down her flushed face, babbling nonsense into her pillow.

She caves, sobbing, "yes, yes, ohgod. you feel so good. you're so fucking good -ah katsuki!"

Looming over her trembling body, the blonde slows his harsh thrusts to a savagely slow grind. He lowly chuckles watching her writhe and wiggle her body in desperation.

"You think you can just come that easy? Beg for me to let you come!"

Smack!

A harsh sting rattled her lower back, causing her to bite down harshly on her lip to avoid showing any pain.

"Such an asshole..." y/n huffed out, oblivious to the way how Katsuki was preparing for her next punishment.

Smack! Smack!

"Not good. Ask nicely for me to fuck this pretty pussy into the mattress."

More whimpers into the tear stained pillow.

"P-Please Katsuki..." she begins, frustration growing exponentially with every word. "Fuck me. I need your cock. I always needed your cock Katsuki. Make me scream out your name when I come!"

She didn't even have time to process what she said before Katsuki enclosed his hand around her throat, forcefully dragging her writhing body to his chest, cranking her head in a 90 degree angle. Cock still warming up her insides.

"That's my girl," he said before kissing her lips again, devouring the sweet noises she made.

Her neighbors were in for a long night. - Both of their bodies the next morning faced more damage than any crusade of a patrol. Bruises painted the outskirts of y/n's body, trailing from her thighs to the divots of her breasts. Katsuki paid no mind to it, seeing how he can make a bloody lip a trailblazer look.

Even though no one wanted speak much about the issue at hand - last night was a pivotal moment for their relationship.

Because y/n wouldn't be making a fresh batch of coffee for the Katsuki Bakugou in her kitchen right now.

Because Bakugou wouldn't be lounging by her washing machine, waiting for the timer to go off so he can put her bed sheets in the dryer.

They found themselves sitting comfortably in silence - the soft whipping of car horns outside her cracked window - Katsuki blowing on his coffee before taking a sip. It all seemed unreal to her. In any other circumstance they'd be at each other's necks by now, screaming nuisances in the air. She considers this whole ordeal a ruse. But it isn't. Thank god it isn't. Because Katsuki never looked calmer or relaxed in his entire life till now. And she wasn't going to bat an eye away from this ground breaking phenomenon.

Intently watching him drink from across the table, she ponders if Katsuki liked her from the get go, and maybe just disguised his feelings with disgust towards her later on. The question will go unanswered, possibly until he confides and tells the story himself, but for now she was content not knowing the what if.

"How did you know I like black coffee?" Katsuki asks, quirking up an eyebrow at her.

Y/N takes a long drag from her mug, indulging in the sweet taste of the caramel creamer.

She smiles and says, "I don't know. Just took a wild guess."

-

[sylvie-writes]

Dr. Husband

word count: 5278

pairing: doctor steve rogers x wife reader

warnings: talks about heat exhaustion? there’s nothing graphic, but if the hospital theme bothers you, then this isn’t the fic to read!

prompts (from @/fluffyomlette): “Your pulse is a little high. Is it because I’m holding your hand?” and “You’re not supposed to pick favourites, doc.” “Trust me, if I didn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

a/n: this just popped in my head about a month ago and i had to write it for no explainable reason. i really couldn’t think of a title oops. if you all have a better idea please tell me so i can change it lol.

please excuse any mistakes!

Summer was finally in full force, blazing sun rays beamed down on the dry ground and once gorgeous flowers drooped in dire need of water. Sounds of children playing outside, pool water splashing as a result of cannonballs, while lawnmowers whirled to life and laughter from the watching wives resounded this afternoon. In your neighborhood, it was tradition that the women would get together every other Saturday and have drinks in the cul-de-sac while their husbands had unsaid competitions of manicuring their yards. Unfortunately for you, your husband was a doctor and that meant little time for him to do the yard, and you didn’t have children at the moment that could go play with the others. The women who were your neighbors were a bit too picky choosy for your taste. They only seemed to bond over their children and sitting around home, two of which you didn’t have or do, so you weren’t ever truly invited to their day-drinking. It was actually fine with you as these people were so hot n’cold and you were just tired of trying to fit in with faux friends. You had plenty of true friends and then your husband who was a child of his own.

For three weekends so far, Steve had told you he’d cut the lawn and as much as you wanted to believe him, you knew that he was so exhausted from work and being on call a majority of the time, that he would never find the hours to do so. That was okay with you because what he did was important and you weren’t gonna be on his ass like the feds about the yard when you could easily do it yourself. It wasn’t like he was just sitting around, no, he was working so you just decided to cut the lawn yourself, something you’d done plenty of times before. 

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Unfortunately the day you chose to do so, the sun was out blazing and a simple walk out the door was a trip to an off-brand hell. Instead of making a wise decision and waiting to cut the grass in the evening, you chose the latter and decided to cut the grass at noon, the very time the sun was in full shine. 

Dressed in attire for yard work and having already eaten a sandwich for lunch, you headed out the garage door to tackle the mess there in hopes of finding the push mower within. Steve’s father, Joseph, had given you both a lot of his lawn equipment, but the riding mower was broken at the moment and you (again) stupidly decided to push mow the almost two acre lawn. It took a good half hour to get the darned thing out on the driveway and while doing so, you noticed that your neighbors, the wives to be exact, had decided to come out for one of their occasional and somehow spontaneous get-togethers which consisted of unattended kids drawing with chalk as their mothers sat a few feet away dipping their feet in the small splash pool. You often found the idea both inventive and funny. 

For only a second more did you let your attention linger on the group before returning back to fill the lawn mower with gasoline. After doing so, you tossed on a pair of sunglasses and went full steam ahead with cutting the grass, disregarding the rising, and very unsafe, temperature. 

About an hour in, the temp had already risen to be above 100 and something no one should have spent any longer than half an hour in. Steve had always said you were stubborn at all the wrong times and boy was he right. You had just finished up half of the front yard and quarter of the back yard. It was mad that you were actually thinking about pushing mowing two acres, especially in this unruly weather. 

You were so determined and when your mind was set on something, you let all other matters slip away, including regards for your own health. The unusual amount of sweat on your skin seemed to go unnoticed by you as well did the growing headache. 

Finally, about half an hour later, more of the backyard was finished and your inner saboteur continued to influence your goals. 

“Just finish this half and you will be close enough to the end,” translated into “Just finish the whole yard, you might as well since you are this close.” 

This was the worst mindset to have, especially with the given circumstances as you had been out here for at least two hours, no drinks of any sort, no real breaks aside from fueling the lawn mower, and no cares to the worsening symptoms that now included noticeable dizziness. 

The lawn mower eventually ran out of gas and you went to refill it once more. Making your way through the front yard, your unknown adrenaline rush came to an end along with the machine’s power. It wasn’t until your vision started to star and blur that you finally noticed your decline in health, but by then it was too late and you were on the plush and groomed grass of the front yard. Ironically, you noticed the fruits of your labor since you were currently laying on it.

Five minutes had passed since your drop to the ground and one of the ladies out in the court, Genevieve, noticed your figure, quite the contrast to the viridescent grass. Despite that she thought you were “demented” for cutting the grass yourself, she knew you weren’t unhinged, so to say, that you would just lay on the grass as it would serve no purpose to do so. She didn’t take you for a nature lover either so this was not normal. 

Genevieve squatted down in the lawn, her sparkly sandals reflecting in the sea of green. Unknowing of what to do, the woman in a panic threw the back of her hand to your forehead and you burned hotter than a metal kettle. By time she stood, the other ladies had gathered around and were now circling in mass hysteria as if they were staring at a dead body and not your unconscious, yet breathing frame. Many long seconds later, Priscilla, who was Genevieve’s closest friend and who despised you as much as you did her, decided to call 911. The other moms then left to go usher their children away from what they described as a “traumatic experience” and back to their large homes for some sort of last minute luncheon. 

Eventually, an ambulance arrived in your usually quiet neighborhood, something that was clearly displayed as almost every neighbor popped their heads out of their houses in sheer curiosity. Their nosey nature often bothered you but was normally put behind some sort of service act such as a baked cake or bottle of wine just to be invited into your house. You didn’t miss the way your neighbors would study your house when they were finally welcomed in. Steve was much better at hiding his cross nature and would return some compassion of his own while you struggled to bottle your annoyance and sealed it with a forced smile. As luck would have it though, you were knocked out and couldn’t give them a piece of your mind for staring because heavens know this would’ve been the last straw and no one could have stopped your rant. 

It was when you were in the red wagon and being attended over by paramedics that you noticed you were on the way to somewhere that wasn’t home. 

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 At the hospital, the doctor and nurses hydrated you back to reality and suddenly you appeared in a bed, a doctor standing at the side with a clipboard in hand allowing your mind to draw up a million conclusions before you remembered what you had done last. 

The doctor spoke a fast introduction and he then moved on to fill you in on what had happened as confusion still painted your face although when he told you Genevieve’s account of what led up to your ultimate passing out, you visibly cringed at such carelessness that ended up bringing you here. Hundreds of falls, burns, and bruises thanks to your clumsy nature, but this had to be the one thing to send you to the hospital. Some sort of twisted joke it sure was. 

Moving to roll a stool to your bedside, the doctor passed you a cold bottle of water before bringing his eyes to give your IV a quick check as a nurse had put it in not too long before you awoke. 

“Luckily, Mrs. Rogers, your neighbors found you in time and you only experienced severe heat exhaustion. Had you prolonged your exposure anymore you could have experienced a heat stroke. For now, I ask that you rest and I’ll come back to release you.” The doctor expressed his reassurance with a kind grin before walking out of the plain and boxy room that could make one go insane with its lack of liveliness. 

Staring out the open doorway and into the empty hallway, you knew that Steve worked on this very floor, but honestly what were the chances that he’d see you? At one point he’d eventually find out about today’s mishaps, but that was a problem for later when you were more conscious and caring. Letting your worries temporarily go (something that was only happening thanks to your fatigued mind), you slightly shifted into a somewhat “comfortable” position on the stiff bed and rough cotton sheets. Albeit that there was an IV uncomfortably stuck in your arm, you fell into a much needed slumber. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Lunch break at last. 

That was all that had been on Steve's mind for the past three hours which had been extremely hectic. Granted, he was used to this fast-paced workplace having worked here for almost a decade, but today was absolutely out of control with injured patients coming in left and right. It wasn’t some sort of bad omen, rather just an unlucky day for many Steve had assumed. He had just finished up with a pediatric case and was now on his way to enjoy the leftover baked chicken salsa that you had made just for him last night and packed for his lunch this morning. You knew how busy his week had been and you took the liberty to make his favorite dinner dish to compensate for the work that had left such a toll on him. A smile immediately overtook his face when he walked in the house last night and that’s when you decided that you would gladly cook anything he’d like over and over again just to see that look of adoration. As Steve held you in his arms at that moment, he kept thinking how he really didn’t deserve you and little did he know, the same thought ran in your own mind. Yet, in reality, you both went together like a puzzle piece to a puzzle. Without the piece, the picture would never be completed and without the other, you and Steve would have never enjoyed life to the fullest. 

Strutting down the never ending hall, Steve passed many doors, some he had been in just a mere hour or two ago. As he walked past an open door and did a double take as he saw a patient asleep, but no sign of anyone else in the room. If he were that patient, he’d want the door shut for some privacy, something which the man highly valued, so he crossed the short distance and closed the door. He didn’t mean to look at the patient for so long as they weren’t in his care and that would be awfully creepy, but Steve could help but do a double take and noticed that the familiar face was, in fact, you. From first glance it didn’t even look like you and that was coming from the man who had studied your face just to commit it to his memory. In a loving way, of course. 

He slowly walked in your room, taking in the image before him of you lying in a hospital bed. His mind had assumed that the worst thing had happened to you and for a moment, Steve’s breathing ceased and his legs were glued to the ground. As his eyes scanned over your body again, his fears were calmed when there were no visible wounds and you just seemed to be resting. Although as a doctor, he unfortunately knew anything could be possible. 

Hunching over the top half of the bed, Steve smoothed your stray hairs away from your forehead and placed an awakening kiss there. You were a light sleeper a majority of the time and your spouse knew that this small action would wake, but not startle you. Every night he’d come home from work and do the same thing except then he knew you were safe and sound. Now, he was just filled with uncertainty. 

“What happened?” Those were the only words he was able to get out and you gave him an answer, just not one that he was looking for. You were already getting defensive and he could sense it.

“Genevieve saw me pass out in the yard and overreacted, Steven. You know they all don’t exactly have good track records with medicine.” You rolled your eyes at the last statement remembering how your neighbors have often nonchalantly tried to get Steve to diagnose them when it came to something as simple as a scrape. Then again, all of your neighbors were in the business industry so that explained their lack of medical knowledge or at least that is the excuse you drew up for them. 

“Nice try, (y/n), but you do have a medical chart and it’s over there,” Steve pointed over his shoulder and towards the doorway where a plastic chart holder sat mounted on the cream wall. “You didn’t just pass out, and the neighbors did not overreact. They did the right thing despite how much I know you hate that. Now, either you tell me the truth or I go read that file.” His tone was serious, but not condescending. Hidden in his eyes was a tad sprinkle of mischief.

Stubborn as ever, you didn’t respond and folded your arms over your chest in a form of defiance. 

Against what is probably legal, Steve picked up your medical chart to read what had happened as you wouldn’t disclose the information to him. Your husband was a worry-wart sometimes and while you appreciated how he doctored you when you were sick, he could be a bit overbearing. A great example would be the time when you were cooking dinner and burned your forearm when taking the casserole out of the oven. 

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“Babe, dinner is ready!” 

The timer on the oven was currently beeping and you walked towards it. Turning off both the oven and the timer, you grabbed a short oven mitt and reached in to grab the casserole dish off the top rack. As you did so, you lifted your arm a bit too high and hit the side of your forearm on the interior roof of the oven. The temperature was ridiculously hot and the pain was immensely strong that you immediately pulled your arm back, the casserole long forgotten. 

Steve came running in at your string of curses and came in to see you holding your arm and hissing a bit as if that would relieve the pain. He walked closer to you as you leaned up against the island. Your husband delicately took your arm in his hand, raking his eyes over the burn that was soon to blister. 

After a short inspection, Steve placed his other hand on the small over your back and led you to the sink, flipping on the cold water and running it over your burn. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve could see you squeezing your own eyes shut in pain. 

“I know, sweetheart, it hurts, I’m sorry.” He continued to rinse your scalded skin, but turned his head to sweetly kiss your temple. 

A few minutes passed and Steve was content with the rinse job as you had finally opened your eyes, even engaging in some of your jokes that were always said at the wrong time. From the kitchen, the man guided you down the hallway, through your bedroom and into your joined bathroom. He sat you on the edge of the bathroom tub while rummaging through your unorganized medicine cabinet. It was barely ever touched and when it was, it was often in a state of panic hence the messiness of it. Fortunately, Steve found a tube of bacitracin and some cotton dressings from God knows how long ago. At this point he could care less and would rather have you cared for. 

You curiously watched him as he dug through the cabinet and a loving smile grew on your face. How lucky were you to have this man. You were really appreciative of him in times like these especially. 

Said man returned and crouched before you, distracting you from your thoughts as he softly grabbed your hand once more. 

The doctor worked his magic and in no time was your arm wrapped up and lathered in ointment.

“Wow Doc, you did a great job.” Steve was still holding your hand as you quietly giggled in content. He placed a kiss on top of your knuckles and peered up at you with those gorgeous (and borderline seductive) sapphire eyes. Chuckling, Steve murmured against your skin, “Only for my favorite patient.” 

As always, you decided to play along with Steve’s playful banter. “You’re not supposed to pick favorites, doc.” 

Your husband knew your clumsy nature and seemed to have the perfect response, “Trust me, if I didn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

With your non-injured hand you went to hit his shoulder and he grabbed it in faux hurt. 

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“You know, Dr. Rogers, that is a violation and I can actually report you for it.” You lifted your line of sight to see Steve who looked back at you with his lips pressed in a fine line. He shook his head disapprovingly after reaching the end of the report and now looked like he was going to sit back in the seat beside your bed. 

“Hey, what are you doing? They already examined me and I am about to get released.” The man ignored you and instead leaned over the flimsy bed railing. Steve rubbed his hands together in a warming manner before placing two fingers on your next in an attempt to find your pulse. He unfortunately carried that common trait among doctors of having hands that were colder than that of a penguin’s ass. You knew very well this pulse check was useless as you were in conditional health and that he was probably doing this to annoy you. 

“Well I like to do a check of my own. It never hurts to get a second opinion, darling.” Blue eyes squinted at you and you returned the patronizing gesture. 

The free hand that was not on your neck had found its way to hold your own hand and when your husband pulled back, he wore a smug smirk on his lips. 

“Your pulse is a little high. Is it because I’m holding your hand?” 

“You know, your shoulders must hurt from carrying such a big head all the time.” Steve had the nerve to laugh at your elementary grade insult and even though you weren’t really mad, your face would have said otherwise to anyone else. 

“So I’ll take that as a yes then, wifey.” He then quickly dropped to press a chaste kiss to your lips before releasing your hand and sitting down in the chair. 

Looking to the clock on the wall, you focused your vision on the distant numbers to read that it was most likely Steve’s lunch break.

“Are you spending your lunch break with me?” Your tone was now sweet and soft as it usually was towards Steve and his heart leaped at the progress being made. 

“It seems that I am. ‘Was really looking forward to that chicken salsa, though.” A heap of blonde hair rested on your hand that Steve had now laid his head against, still holding tight with both of his own hands. You giggled at his dramatics and ruffled a free hand through his greasy hair. 

“I haven’t eaten anything, you think you could spend your lunch break with me?” His head popped up at this and his face held the eagerness of an energetic puppy. 

“Of course, sweetheart. We can head to the cafeteria. Hopefully they have something good for my girl.” It was now your turn for your heart to swell at his words. Not even a second later though, the sentimental moment was replaced with Steve’s usual sarcastic humor. 

“See, I love you so much that I am willing to sacrifice my precious chicken salsa just to have lunch with you. You should be grateful to have me as your husband.” Steve’s pearly whites beamed at you in a cheesy smile and you gave a dismissive wave of your hand. 

The two of you talked and enjoyed the rare time together for the next ten minutes until Steve noticed you shifting to sit up against the pillows. He thought nothing of it until suddenly you were throwing your legs over the side of the bed and making to get out of the so called cotton prison. 

Waving a finger, Steve tutted you and hurriedly scooped your legs back onto the bed. You looked absolutely peeved and Steve knew it was from the way that he was treating you like a child or better yet, a patient. His wife, the fighter and he, the doctor. Two unlikely personalities but ones that worked best together nonetheless. This made Steve laugh whenever he thought about it.

“You can get up the minute you get released by the doc, okay?” Caring eyes now gave you a pleading look and you felt a small tinge of guilt crawling up your chest at how mean you had been to your husband when he has only been trying to help. 

A knock on the wooden door signaled a visit from the one person you had been waiting on for what seemed to be ages. 

“Speak of the devil.” Muttering the phrase so only Steve could hear you gave him an “I told you so” kind of look. 

The Doctor looked up from the same clipboard as earlier to greet you once he made it in through the doorway, but he was surely surprised by the figure sitting in the chair beside you. 

“Oh Dr. Rogers, what a surprise! So this is your wife I presume? I guess I should have put two and two together,” Your doctor of the moment laughed with Steve who added in a chuckle or two of his own. 

“Yep, this is Mrs. Rogers!” Steve didn’t look at you, but lovingly squeezed your hand that was resting against his, “We are quite the handful so I am surprised you couldn’t tell that she was my other half.” A snicker ended his words and you couldn’t help but do the same. 

Once the short introductions were over, the doctor walked over to do a speedy final exam on what was necessary as Steve watched from the sidelines still getting used to the idea of not being the one doing the examination. He hadn’t been in any other position in the hospital for such a long time that it took some time to get used to the fact that he wasn’t the one diagnosing and rather waiting for the diagnosis. 

The doctor pulled away from hovering over you and now sat back on his rolling leather stool, scooting his way over to the computer and desk. 

“Well I must say, (y/n), that you definitely live up to some of the stories your husband tells.” The other man in the white coat finished up his typing before turning back around to face you and his colleague. 

“Ah, I hope he’s giving me some good street cred,” You teased and from the side you saw Steve shaking his head and chuckling under his breath. 

“I assure you that they were all good things.” With that, the doctor formally released you, walking out of the room to give you some time to redress and such.

You went to get out of the bed for the nth time, but finally succeeded. Your legs felt a bit wobbly upon the first step, and Steve noticed this. He came up to stand beside you and placed a hand on your lower back with the other out in front in case you did fall. Placing your own hand on his scrub clad chest to steady yourself, you silently thanked him with a tender pat. 

With Steve’s guidance, you went to change out of the wretched paper gown and into your shorts and shirt from working outside. It wasn’t exactly the most flattering outfit but at this moment you could care less for the only thing on your mind was getting out of this room.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The ride in the elevator seemed to move slower than a snail and almost stopped on every floor. You were so crammed by the time you were only on the fifth floor that you used this as an excuse to lean up against Steve. He rubbed your arm and enveloped you in a side hug and planted a kiss on your head. The two of you never cared for PDA but neither of you had realized the onlooking eyes. 

You found it mildly comedic when some of your fellow passengers seemed disgusted that a doctor was handling a patient in such a way. It was definitely gonna be a joke for later on. 

Eventually you made it to the first floor and begrudgingly pushed yourself out of Steve’s warm embrace when the smell of garlic bread hit your nose. 

“Huh, they never cook spaghetti around here. They must know we have a special guest today.” Steve pressed his lips against your ear to jokingly whisper to you as he ushered you out the elevator doors. 

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Standing in line with a plastic tray at the cafeteria made you have flashbacks to middle school lunch and you shuddered at the thought. The memories played back in your mind like a movie and were interrupted (much to your relief) when Steve tapped your shoulder.

“You want this?” Steve held one of the plastic salad containers in hand, the white sleeve of his lab coat draped on top of the other stacked bowls in the open air freezer. 

You nodded and he placed it on your tray, slightly bumping your hips as he walked past to grab a drink.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

For a good twenty minutes, you and Steve sat in comfortable silence in one of the booths until clicking clogs came closer and closer. So close that a shadow loomed over your table conveying that someone was here to speak. 

“Dr. Rogers, I don’t think it’s entirely wise of you to have lunch with your patient. Actually, it’s quite inappropriate.” The older woman in burgundy scrubs pointed her gaze to the hospital band on your wrist and both you and Steve started laughing upon noticing. So that explained all the weird looks.

“Oh no, Dr. Williams! This is my wife (y/n),” You politely beamed up at the woman and set out your hand for a handshake. At this, her unenthusiastic expression changed to one of apologetic and she shook your hand with much grief as Steve continued on with his introductions. 

“(y/n), this is Dr. Williams. She is the medical director for my department.” 

“Wow! I’ve heard many wonderful things about you, Dr. Williams.” She went to return the praise before a beeping in her coat pocket signaled the time for her departure. 

“Duty calls, but I’ll have you know this one here never shuts up about you. It was nice to finally put a face to a name, (y/n),” You glanced at Steve and noticed he was sheepishly grinning and turning redder by the second. So much so that he was hiding his face in his palms.

““I hope you have a quick recovery as well, hon!” The standing woman gave you a nod of her head and then turned to your husband whose face had finally regained its color. “As for you Steven, I will see you later. You have another resident to deal with today.” Dr. Williams sighed at the thought, waving you both goodbye and soon enough she was out the double doors of the lunch room. 

“Ooh babe you’ll have to tell me how all of that goes.” Spooning some spaghetti into your mouth, you goofily raised your eyebrows at Steve. 

“Trust me, it is not fun at all. When I was a resident, I would have never acted like some of the people I’ve trained!” 

You snorted, “Uh huh. Sureee.” 

“No really,” Steve’s eyes widened and he leaned over the table like he was sharing some sort of secret with you, “The audacity of some of these people.” 

“I think you are just an old man now, Stevie, and can’t keep up with the times.” The blond screwed up his eyes and stuck his tongue out at you. 

“Oh hush and finish your food, Miss. ‘I am soooo young’.” A napkin flew at Steve’s chest and the two of you laughed at the childish antics that had just ensued. 

Just as both of your styrofoam containers became empty, an unpleasant ringer sounded in Steve’s pocket, just like the one of Dr. Williams’s departure. Once he gave the screen a swift peek, he looked back up at you with a long face. 

“You gotta go?” Golden strands bobbed up and down as Steve nodded and you grabbed his hand. 

“It’s alright! Thank you for spending the time with me today, though. I really appreciate it. Thanks for putting up with me, you know how I am sometimes.”  

The larger hand encompassing yours gave a sympathetic squeeze. 

“Oh darling, anytime, you know that. If you need anything, call me okay? I will try my best to answer.” 

The temporary silence that filled the room was now replaced by annoying buzzing from the device that Steve had silenced for the moment. He irritability took it out and shoved it back in his pocket. Normally this didn’t bother Steve because this was his job, but since you were here, having just been sick, he wanted nothing more than to drop everything and focus on you. Knowing that was impossible, he tried his best to juggle both yet it seemed that the world wasn’t gonna wait on him. 

“Do you want me to call Ma to come get you? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Her and Dad love your company.” For the moment, Steve appeared to look like he was ignoring the constant beeping, but you knew internally he was already out of the cafeteria and sprinting down the halls.

“No no, I’m fine, honey,” The doctor stared at you as if he didn’t believe you. “I mean it, Steve. I am fine. Now shoo.” 

Dr. Rogers shared another laugh with you before pecking your lips and running out the room shouting, “I’ll see you later!” 

He really was too good for this world. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

a/n: i really enjoyed writing for doctor!steve, so if anyone has any ideas that involves him and that you’d like me to write, send it in! <3

taglist (is open!): @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @aubreeskailynn @calirindo @lady-elena-adeline @siriuslyslyslytherin @sushiinmidnight @patzammit @iwik3it

[after-witch]

Ginger Tea [Yandere L Lawliet x Reader]

Title: Ginger Tea [Yandere L Lawliet x Reader]

Synopsis: You’re sick. Unfortunately, your captor has no intentions of leaving you alone to recover.

For request: something concerning death note L? 

Word Count: 1500ish

notes: yandere, kidnapped

You’re sick. Not sick-sick, not enough to land you in the hospital--which briefly makes you wonder what L would do if you needed serious medical attention. Would he take you to a hospital himself, spin some life about being a concerned spouse? Sneak you into some clinic on the opposite end of the country, so no one might recognize you? No, you think--if it came to that, he’d probably have the resources to bring in a team of private doctors to poke and prod you and hook you up to IVs until you somewhat resembled your old self again.

Not that he’ll be bringing in any doctors for your current mundane, yet wholly miserable condition: a nasty cold, maybe a sinus infection. Whatever it is, it has you feeling like absolute shit. 

Your head feels so tight that you swear it’s pulsing. Your throat is scratchy and sore, yet thick with phlegm that has you coughing, chest burning and tight, until it makes its globby way onto a napkin. Even your ears hurt, which is the worst, and when you cried out earlier, L had practically bound into the room like a wild dog to check on you.

Part of you hoped he would avoid you, be afraid to catch whatever it is that has you stuck in bed, feeling heavy and tired. If he caught a terrible cold, it might derail him from the mission he refuses to talk about except in the vaguest of terms.

But you have no such luck. Instead of leaving, he hovers. He clings. He checks your temperature with a thermometer, then with his hand (an excuse to touch you, clearly, but when you grumpily called him out for this he merely ignored you). 

He swaps out cold washcloths when they're warmed by throbbing forehead. He even brought in a humidifier, unceremoniously plunked down in a corner of the room; you can't complain, the warm, steaming air has been heaven for your aching lungs.

And a few minutes ago--or maybe more, you couldn't open your eyes to look at the clock if you wanted to--he asked if you were hungry. You weren't. He hmmed. And said he would fix you something, anyway.

It's funny. He has become so attentive, so caring, that you would feel flattered under different circumstances.

But it's hard to feel anything right now except sick, sick, sick. Weak. Helpless. In more ways than one. You hate being sick, as a rule; being sick at the mercy of your kidnapper is... not something you ever wanted to experience. Even if he is fawning over you like a mother fawning over her baby’s first sniffles.

You take a slow, deep breath, wanting to avoid the stings of pain that came with breathing normally. When you do, you realize that there's something else mingled with the hot air steaming out in intervals from the humidifier: ginger. Muted through your stuffy nose but noticeable enough to make you realize that he’s back from the kitchen.

You open your eyes and, sure enough, L is standing in front of you with a bed tray. He sets it on the nightstand and pulls the cloth, now warm, off your head.

"Do you want a new one?"

You nod. He hums, and quickly finds his way into the adjacent bathroom. You can hear the water running for a moment before he returns with a damp, achingly cool cloth that is refreshing and soothing as he places it on your warm, hurting head.

You want to go back to sleep, and half-close your eyes. Maybe if you just go back to napping, he'll leave you alone for a while.

The feel of the mattress dipping as L sits next to you on the bed destroys that thought. You open your eyes, weary, and see that he's opening up  the kickstands on the tray so that it can easily (and safely) rest over your lap. How thoughtful. How annoying. He’s gone to a lot of work to make you food. He kidnapped you.

You glance at the tray. Hot ginger tea, you can see granules of sugar melting away inside; rice porridge with eggs, scallions. Your favorite sick foods. You briefly wonder if he somehow knew this but, barring his somehow developing actual mind reading powers, you tuck it away as a coincidence.

“I don’t want anything,” you say, voice scratchy. 

“This will help with your symptoms,” he replies, lifting the cup of tea in his hands. “Drink the whole cup.”

You turn your head slightly and murmur, but all that comes out is a vague mm-nn before the cup is lifted to your lips. You can smell the ginger, warm and rich, before tasting its warmth on your tongue. With nothing else to do, you swallow. The liquid does feel soothing on your throat, in your chest, and you sigh, deflated, and gently take the cup from his hands.

You sip and sip, waiting for him to go. But he doesn't. He sits on the bed and stares at you.  You have the nerve to glance up at him, and you wish you were as good at reading his expressions as he was at reading your... everything. Your motivations. Your personality. Even your thoughts, you swear, sometimes. But when you look at him, all you see is his focus, his interest. He always looks the most intense when he’s focused on something. At the moment, that interest is you.

The mug is halfway empty when you set it down. He doesn’t protest, so you consider it a small victory. But when he plops a spoon into the rice porridge and pushes it closer to you on the tray, you shake your head.

"M'not hungry," you murmur.

"You are hungry," he corrects. “You haven’t eaten all day.” He’s right--but it’s hard to think about hunger pangs when your head hurts so much, when your lungs keep you in coughing fits.

If you were feeling healthy, you might be able to banter. Argue. Get him going until he huffs and stomps off. But right now, there's no arguing with him, and no arguing with the firm yet gentle way he shoves a pillow behind your back, propping you into a better sitting position. You feel too weak to muster any further protest when he lifts a spoonful of porridge to your lips, and you open your mouth just a bit--feeling a twist in your stomach as you do--and meekly accept the soft mixture.

The taste brings back memories. Of your mom, of course, but even of your old life. Before he took you. Making yourself steaming bowls of porridge in your apartment, thumbing through recipes on your phone to find something to target ear aches or headaches or nausea. Back when you were free to leave and do and say whatever you wanted. Back when life was simpler, when you didn’t have to play battles of wits and walk on eggshells and find yourself plotting a thousand ways to escape only to find out that he was ten steps ahead of you the entire time.

Back when you weren’t struggling with the realization that someone on this planet was so obsessed with keeping you that they kidnapped you, and now, they’re hovering over you like a lover, making sure you’re okay.

You don’t know you’re crying until L’s thumb wipes away a tear. You don’t have the energy to flinch, so you just stare at him, eyes half-lidded.

“Is it your ear again?”

“No,” you murmur. It’s not your ear that hurts.

L looks away. He brings the thumb, still salty with your tears, and swipes it on his lip, before returning your gaze again. He lifts up the spoon brings more porridge to your mouth, spoonful after spoonful. You must admit: it is nice to have something in your stomach, something soft and filling.

When it’s nearly empty, you turn your head and he lets you, opting to set the spoon in the bowl and put the tray back on your nightstand. He gently removes the extra pillow and you feel yourself sliding back down,  your eyes barely able to stay open. He takes the washcloth on your head without a prompt and returns with a new one, freshly cold and damp.

“Thanks,” you whisper, half-sighing from the cool comfort. It’s the first time you’ve thanked him since he started his hovering.  The first time you’ve thanked him about anything, actually. Your eyes are shut before you can see his reaction--a quiet moment of surprise, then pride, before he lifts up the comforter on the bed and pulls it up to your shoulders.

You turn slightly, tucking yourself on your side for comfort. You can feel your head buzzing, feeling fuzzy and thick from your headache and need for sleep. As your thoughts dim and your mind begins to slip back into slumber, you can feel something soft, something light and slightly wet, press on your cheek.

He kissed you.

[daringyounggrayson]

misplaced guilt

(Read below or on AO3)

It’s been a while since Bruce has been to one of these galas, and for once, he is neither hosting nor making a speech. It’s a nice change, to say the least.

Dick is sitting next to him, kicking his legs under the table. Bruce would tell him to stop, but at least he’s actually using the chair as intended with both feet closer to the floor than the chair, so Bruce lets it go for the moment. If it gets too out of control, he can always reach out and stop him, but for now, he’ll let the kid release some pent-up energy.

Bruce keeps half of his attention on Dick and the other half on his conversation with Jasmine Owen, a woman who works at one of Gotham’s youth centers. Bruce knew from the second she introduced herself that she came over in hopes of getting a donation, but he doesn’t mind; that’s one of the main purposes of these things, and Bruce is happy to help however he can.

“Babs,” Dick gasps excitedly, shooting upright when he catches Barbara walk into the room, Commissioner Gordon by her side. Bruce looks over at Dick, quirking an eyebrow. Dick smiles back, asks in his I’m-in-public-so-I’m-behaving-like-an-angel voice, “May I please be excused?”

“Hnn,” Bruce says, pretending to think over his answer.

“Bruce,” Dick whines.

Bruce smiles. “Alright. But stay in the ballroom. Dinner is going to be served soon.”

“Okay, thanks!” he slides out of his chair and offers a wave. “Nice meeting you, Ms. Owen.”

“And you, Richard,” she smiles back. When he’s gone, she turns to Bruce again and says, “He’s a sweet kid.”

Bruce can’t help but think at least in public, and at least to people who aren’t me. He’s half-joking, but there’s some truth to the statement: Dick has always seemed to behave better for Alfred, and he’s nothing if not an angel around strangers, even when he’s mad at Bruce.

At home, it’s not that Dick isn’t a good kid—he is—but he’s still a kid. Dick can be sassy, and he has a taste for anything that will make Bruce’s hair turn gray (usually dangerous, usually far away from the ground). He also has no qualms about making fun of Bruce when Dick feels it’s called for. Then there are the arguments, the borderline tantrums. Both have been decreasing in frequency, and Bruce attributes most of them to processing and coming to terms with his parents’ murder, but they are—difficult, to say the least. Dick will have these rough days—sometimes rough weeks—where he’ll lash out at Bruce over the smallest things. Sometimes it seems like he yells at Bruce just to put his hurt somewhere.

Bruce tries to take all of it—from the jokes at his expense that even he has to admit are funny, to the meltdowns—as a good sign, one that says Dick feels secure and knows that Bruce will love him regardless of his behavior or attitude. But there are certainly days when Bruce thinks it would be nice if Dick would listen to him like he listens to Alfred—like when Bruce tells him to get off of the unstable shed roof, for example.  

Despite the challenges that come with raising a child, there are also so many blessings. There’s no other word to describe it. Seeing Dick learn and grow and thrive is something Bruce will never get tired of. On top of that, Dick is just this brilliant, funny, and kind child. He has the biggest heart Bruce has ever seen, and he cares so deeply and widely. Bruce doesn’t know how he got so lucky. Dick is Bruce’s light, his whole world.

Bruce pulls himself out of his head, says, “He’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.” It’s something he can say with complete honesty. “Do you have kids?”

“Oh god, no. I think I’m still a little young for that,” she laughs. Then, thinking about what she said, her face falls. “Not that you were too young, just for me, I’d rather—”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He puts his hands up and smiles. “I was really young when I took Dick in. I go to parent-teacher conferences, and most of the other parents are at least ten years older than me. But I like to think I’m doing alright, and Dick’s happy, so that’s all that matters.”

“Yes, I suppose.” She smiles, but looks down at the table.

“So, what’s it like day-to-day at the youth center?”

She looks up, coming alive again, and the conversation picks back up.

oOo

After dinner, Dick and Barbara disappear again, and Bruce is left alone to mingle. Most people come to him, but he only has to escape a few times, so it’s going about as good as these things can go.

That is until a very urgent Barbara runs into him and tugs on his arm. “Sorry everyone, but I need to borrow Brucie for a second.”

Bruce ducks down to look Barbara in the eye. “What is it?”

“Dick. Just come with me.”

He follows her without another word to the group of people he was talking to. She leads him into the hall and toward the lobby. When they turn the corner, Dick is on the ground in a lateral recumbent position. Gordon is talking to him gently, though Dick seems unresponsive.

“Dick.” Bruce lurches forward, falling to his knees and reaching out to find Dick’s pulse and check his breathing. “What happened?”

“Barbara thinks he had a seizure,” Gordon answers. “An ambulance will be here soon.”

Dick’s breath hitches and he lets out a low moan that feels like a twisting dagger in Bruce’s chest. His eyes find Bruce’s, and he unwraps one hand from his stomach to reach for Bruce’s. Bruce takes it, squeezing it gently in a reassuring manner.

“I’m right here,” Bruce promises, running a hand through Dick’s hair.

“It hurts,” Dick gasps.

“Shh, the paramedics are going to be here soon. We’ll fix it.”

Dick shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t feel right.”

Bruce tightens his grip slightly, hoping to keep Dick conscious. “What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?”

“Head, stomach,” Dick mumbles. “Feel hot, an’ dizzy.”

Bruce frowns, trying to determine what could be causing Dick’s symptoms. Is this the beginning of an illness, or a seizure disorder? Has Dick been poisoned? There was a run-in with Scarecrow a few nights ago, and Dick had needed to take an untested antidote for the fear toxin. Could this be a delayed reaction to the concoction Bruce had come up with?

Dick’s grip loosens.

“Dick?” Bruce calls urgently. “Dick!”

He gets no response.

oOo

Dick is staring at a white ceiling when he realizes he’s awake. Sunlight is streaming in through a giant window on his right, and there’s a framed painting of giraffes across from him. He’s tired and confused, and his gut tells him that something is wrong, that something bad happened. His first thought is that he wants his mom.

He turns his head to the left, finding Bruce in a chair and holding his hand.

“Hi,” Dick says, slowly pushing himself into a sitting position. Bruce grunts some kind of greeting and raises Dick’s bed while Dick takes in the medical bracelets on his wrist—one ID bracelet and one that indicates that he’s a fall risk—and the IV in the back of his hand. “What happened?”

Bruce shifts in his chair, face serious. “We were at the gala. You were poisoned.”

Dick matches Bruce’s expression, trying to think. He remembers being with Babs, telling her that something was wrong. Then he’d been on the ground, and there’d been sirens.

“The man who poisoned you had planned to offer me the antidote for a price, but he didn’t realize that you would react to the poison so—so severely,” Bruce explains, rubbing his thumb over Dick’s knuckles. “He was working as one of the waiters and heard the commotion. He came forward shortly after the ambulance left and he’s currently in custody.”

Dick swallows. “Why did he . . .” Why did he poison Dick in the first place? Need money so badly? Feel that poisoning Dick was the only option? “Would it have killed me? If he didn’t give us the antidote.”

Bruce, like always, is honest with Dick. “The doctors were able to stabilize you, but they needed to neutralize the poison quickly, and the antidote did that. It’s hard to say what would have happened without it, but things were touch and go for a while.”

Dick nods, not sure what to say as he takes it in. Eventually, he asks, “How long have I been out?”

“A few days. You woke up a few times yesterday, but you were incoherent,” Bruce says.

Dick wracks his brain, trying to pull up some inaccessible memory.

“I’m sorry that this happened, Dick.”

Dick squeezes Bruce’s hand. “Not your fault.”

“Hnn.”

“What? Are you seriously guilty that you didn’t taste all of my food first or something? ‘Cause that’s nuts, B.”

Bruce says, “You are my child. I am allowed to feel guilty when I fail to protect you.”

“You didn’t fail,” Dick interjects. “I’m okay—really.”

Bruce’s face is still pinched and concerned, and he’s looking at Dick like he might fall apart. Dick leans toward him and stretches his arms out, and Bruce quickly pulls him into a tight hug.

“I’m not going anywhere, Bruce,” Dick promises. And even to himself, it doesn’t sound like a reassurance most nine-year-olds should be giving. But it fits with his new life, he supposes. “I’m okay.”

Bruce tucks Dick’s head under his chin, says, “I was . . . I’m glad that you’re alright.”

Dick nods into Bruce’s chest and lets himself be held for another moment. It’s not the hug from his mom that he woke up wanting, but it’s close. It makes him feel safe and reminds him of home, and maybe that’s all Dick needs.

[hangovercurse]

The Things We Can’t Tell Pete about ix

Pete finds out about you and Colson

Colson X Reader

Warnings: Cursing, slut-shaming, sibling fighting

A/N: It’s done! Thank you all for reading this far, hope it’s lived up to expectations.

A/N 2: This is modeled after the (many) fights I’ve had with my siblings 😊

Word Count: 2277

| i | ii | iii | iv | v | vi | vii | viii |  

“Just promise me that we tell him soon, okay?”

2 months later

Things had been going steadily with Colson since that first night he spent in your apartment. You’d honestly never felt happier in a relationship, except for the nagging fact that you still hadn’t told Pete. Every time Colson would ask about it, you’d feed him the same line, “I’m just not ready to handle that yet.”

You could tell he was tired of the sneaking around and the same old excuse, but you truthfully weren’t sure what the outcome would be. If Pete was going to be mad at you, you might as well enjoy what you had until then.

And were you enjoying it. You and Colson both had to admit that sneaking around everyone was thrilling. A few weeks into your relationship, he’d brought you on set of one of his music videos to “show you the process.” The process, it turns out, was hooking up in a side room while the crew was on lunch break.

You knew it would be so much better if you could be honest about your relationship. If you could go out on dates publicly or post the cute pictures you take of him on your Instagram, or literally anything a normal couple could do. But for now, you were happy.

Last night, Colson had come over with takeout and a bottle of champagne, setting up a picnic on the floor of your living room. You talked and kissed while different movies played in the background, the bubbly starting to get to your head. You almost let three very important words slip out, but somewhere deep in your brain, common sense still lingered.

You knew you loved him, but you didn’t want to pressure him into saying anything he wasn’t ready for. You wanted him to take the first step. So, you didn’t say anything. Instead, you let the night carry into morning, waking up to a loud knock on your door.

There was no part of you that was about to get up and open the door, so you just snuggled further into Colson and closed your eyes. But then, the lock clicked and the handle squeaked through the small apartment.

Your entire body was immediately on high alert, shaking Colson to wake him up. His tired eyes opened, finding you and shifting to immediate confusion. He opened his mouth to say something before he was interrupted by the voice of the intruder,

“Hey Y/N, mom wanted me to pick up the-“ The door of your bedroom opened, revealing a stunned Pete. His eyes shifted from you to Colson, and then back to you. He let out a scoff, shaking his head and leaving the room.

You sighed, jumping out of bed and throwing on the closest shirt, that just so happened to belong to Colson. “Pete!” You ran out of the room, grabbing onto his arm and stopping him from leaving, “please jus-“

“You are the most manipulative bitch I have ever met, and I’ve met a lot.” His voice was dark, furious. Your mind was running a mile a minute to figure out how to explain everything. “I asked you for one simple thing, and you can’t even fucking do that?”

Tears began to flood behind your eyes, panic taking over your body. You were already on edge from the earlier fear of someone being in your house, and you were incredibly tired. So combined with Pete yelling at you, even if you did deserve it, it was enough to send you into a spiral of negative thoughts and anger. “If you would act fucking rational when I tried to talk to you about it, maybe you would know that it wasn’t so simple!”

Pete chuckled, “right, sorry. I forgot that you’re a slut who can’t keep her fucking legs closed.”

His words hit you like a thousand punches, so much so that you physically took a step backwards. He took no notice, continuing to pour all his anger out on you. “And you’re a fucking liar. How long have you been whoring around with him? Because if I were to guess, it’d be a couple months by now, right?”

Colson, who was standing by the door to your room, not quite sure what to do with himself, spoke up, “Pete, st-“

“How many of my other friends have you been fucking?” Pete ignored his friend, eyes still seeing red and focusing on you. “I mean, seriously, what is this? Did I do something wrong? Did you want to hurt me? Is this you getting back at me for something, by fucking around with my friends?”

Tears were falling freely from your eyes, embarrassment and hurt coursing through your veins. “You always make everything about you, Pete. You never fucking consider anyone else except your goddamn self.”

You shoved his chest harshly, turning and walking towards your bedroom. You pushed past Colson, who tried to comfort you, slamming the door behind you. You sat on the bed and let everything weigh down on you, Pete’s words ringing in your ears. Part of you was angry with him, telling you that he was in the wrong. But another part of you was angry at yourself for not being a good sister.

Outside the door, Pete had turned his anger towards Colson. “Get out.” Your boyfriend had tried to talk reason with Pete, but your brother was having none of it. “You are not my fucking friend, okay? Not anymore.”

“Pete, you’re being ridiculous, ju-“

“I’m not being fucking ridiculous!” Pete yelled, “that’s my fucking sister. You could fuck anyone else in the goddamn world and you chose to fuck my little sister? That’s fucked, dude.”

Colson was overcome by the urge to defend your relationship, “I fucking love her, Pete. Okay? Goddamn.” For the first time since Pete walked out of your room, he was quiet. “Do you think I would risk my entire relationship with you for some fuck? Do you think she would?”

He didn’t wait for a response, instead turning and walking into your room. The sight of you curled up, knees to your chest, made Colson’s heart break. He climbed on the bed behind you, back to the headboard, and pulled you into his lap. He could feel your body shake with every sob, so he just held you tightly in his arms.

When he could feel you physically start to calm down, he whispered gently, “I love you.”

You’d always hoped whenever you heard those words from him, you’d feel relieved, knowing your relationship was as real to him as it was to you. But right now you were only filled with dread. You didn’t want him to love you, because it made everything seem so much worse. How had you let it get this far?

Before you could respond, Colson continued, “I love you, but I can’t stay with you.” You leaned further into his chest, staring blankly ahead of you. “I want you to be happy, and you won’t be if you lose Pete.”

Your lip quivered as you whispered out, “I love you too.”

Colson sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, before moving to climb out of the bed. Tears blurred your vision as you watched him walk out of the room. Him leaving only made you fall even more in love with him, which hurt like a bitch.

When Colson came into view of Pete, the younger man studied him, but not in anger. “Did you really mean that?”

Colson sighed, “that I love her? Yeah, I do.” Pete was sat on the couch, rubbing his hands over his face to try and calm himself down. “But I’m not about to let you ruin your relationship with her over me. So, if you want me gone, I’m gone.”

Pete was silent for a few moments, and Colson could feel his own heartbeat slowing down, the thought of losing you for good finally hitting him. “How long?”

The older man sat on the other side of the couch, elbows on his knees, “It’s complicated. I asked her out the day after we met but then I broke it off like a week later when you guys got in that fight about it.” Pete nodded to confirm he remembered, “then we tried the whole “friends” thing for like a month, but it obviously didn’t work. Then two months later, here we are.”

Pete was staring blankly at the black TV screen in front of him, absorbing the blonde’s words. “Why didn’t you guys just tell me?” Pete’s voice was weak, guilt and regret slowly sinking into his system.

Colson hung his head, “because she wanted to put this off as long as possible, I think. I tried to get her to talk to you about it but she wasn’t ready. I don’t think I was either, truthfully. I figured once you knew, if it were as bad as she thought it would be, I would lose her.”

“You would really leave if it meant keeping her and me from fighting?” Colson could feel his heart stop at Pete’s words, the expected heartbreak on the horizon.

“If it meant she was happy, yeah.”

Pete rested his head in his hands, sighing deeply, “I’m an asshole.”

This took Colson by surprise, as it was not the response he was expecting. He thought he’d be thrown out immediately. “What do you mean?”

“We have this rule that we don’t fuck each other’s friends because then someone gets hurt and one of us would probably lose a friend. So, I flipped out when she brought it up because I really didn’t want to be put in that situation.” Pete paused, looking up to his friend, “But obviously you’re serious about her and you make her happy.”

Colson replied sincerely, “you know I’m never gonna hurt her, right?”

“I’ll kill you if you do, best friend or not.”

“That’s fair.”

The two men sat in silence for a while before they broke out into laughter, Pete reaching over to shove Colson’s shoulder, “I’m sorry for being a dick.”

Colson nodded, laughing it off, “I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”

Pete knocked on your door lightly, not waiting for a response before slowly walking in. You hadn’t moved since Colson left; your eyes still blankly focused on the wall in front of you. He sat down beside you and pulled you into his side, head resting on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean any of that,” his voice was hushed but sincere. “I was hurt and confused and I said things in the moment that I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, “you don’t have to apologize. I deserved it.” When you spoke, your voice was flat, void of all emotion. Just how you felt.

Pete sighed, “no, you didn’t. You tried to talk to me about it months ago and I blew up on you. I can’t blame you for not telling me.”

“It’s fine Pete, it’s over anyways.” You wanted to scream at yourself for falling too easily and at him for making assumptions, but you couldn’t find the strength. “It was more than just sex though, Pete.”

“I know, I was being an asshole.” He squeezed you closer into his side, “I should’ve realized you wouldn’t hook up with one of my friends unless it was serious.”

You whispered, “I didn’t mean for it to get this far.” Your voice was strained, “I wanted to tell you but I knew when you found out that you’d get mad and then something like this would happen. But I really fucking liked him, I just wanted to hold onto it while I could.”

“I was mad. Dude, I was pissed when I walked in.” Pete could feel you tense up at his words, “but you’re my sister and he’s my best friend. I just want you guys to be happy. And I might not like it, but he makes you happy.”

You sighed in relief, “you know I would never try to hurt you, right? Like I didn’t do this to make you mad or put you in a weird spot. It just kind of happened.”

Pete chuckled, “yeah, I know. And I’m sorry for saying all that shit. I was mad, you know how I get.”

You rolled your eyes, “you mean I know that you’re crazy? Yes, I am very aware.”

He shoved your shoulder lightly, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence for a moment before he broke it. “If you two make me third wheel, I swear I’ll kill you both.”

“Have you two met yourselves? I feel like I’m third wheeling you guys when we all hang out,” you giggled, climbing out of the bed. “I think you owe me sushi now.”

Pete gave you a very confused expression, “you snuck around with my best friend behind my back. If anything, you ow me sushi.”

“You called me a slut and a bitch. And you embarrassed me in front of my boyfriend.” You said matter-of-factly, a small smile on your face to let Pete know you’d already started to get over it.

He rolled his eyes, getting up and moving to the living room, “that just makes us even.”

“I’m suing you for emotional damages.” You joked as you followed him, sitting on the couch next to Colson, leaning into him, “the court has determined you owe me sushi.”

Colson looked between you both, confused, “so, you two are good now?” Pete and you nodded, smiling. “Siblings are fuckin’ weird, man.”

Tag list @corpse-babe @sesamepancakes

[spencerhotchner]

Alternative {spencer reid}

Chapter 1 

summary: Since quarentine was announced, Y/N decided to rewatch all seasons of Criminal Minds. On a lonely night she wished she could be in that universe instead of this. What happens when she wakes up in 2008 in Quantico?

warnings: angst, a very confused reader, regular cm stuff and my grammar (if you find anything else pls lmk

word count: 2k

a/n: i have this idea while watching a movie about parallel universes and all, so i just wanted to try this out. it will be a 10 parts series! im not really sure about this, i think i kinda hate it but im posting it anyways lmao. i hope you gonna enjoy!

series masterlist

part 1 | part 2

You woke up feeling dizzy and with a major headache. At first you thought it was because you drank a whole lot of wine last night but then you saw yourself in a room you never saw before. You stoop up quickly trying to understand where you were and how did you end up there. You were sure that you have never been in this place before, and it was scaring you that you showed up in there.

There was a mirror nailed to the wall in from of you almost forcing you to look at your own body, that made you notice that you were still wearing the same clothes from last night, but you weren’t home. Not being home was odd given by the fact you stayed there with your family and two friends you invited over, since there’s a whole freaking pandemic going on and you for sure did not want to get sick or get other people sick. 

“Did I get kidnapped?” you think out loud. “No, I just watch too much Criminal Minds.” you tell yourself, trying to calm down.

You reach for the face mask placed on the nightstand, getting ready to leave this random place and go home. You tried not to freak out when you realized your phone was gone and the only cellphone in there was probably as old as your grandmother. You dialed your moms number about five times and all of them went on voicemail, making you curse mentally. 

This can’t be happening. Not to me.

As soon as you leave the apartment you were in you realized you weren’t in your hometown, definitely not. It was crowded, like, really crowded and no one was wearing any face masks. Where did the freaking pandemic go? You wondered while you felt like a misfit for being the only one wearing it. 

“Excuse me, can you tell me where I am?” you ask an old lady walking by.

“You’re on Main Street, sweetheart.” she says.

“No, um, I mean the city.” you watched as the old lady looked at you with a funny face, as if she was calling you crazy on her mind.

“We’re in Quantico, dear.”

“Quantico?” you repeat, mostly for yourself then for her. The lady started at you like you were an alien. “Thank you so much, ma’am.”

The air started to go low on you, how did you get to Virginia, anyway? That was across the country from where you lived, Bellevue in Washington state. You started lost walking, trying to understand what the hell was going on. It felt like you were on a parallel universe, like you were in a dream but couldn't wake up and it sure felt very real. You stoped a jornal shop taking a lot at the last newspaper in there, trying to figure if something happened that you were missing. However, nothing reported there shocked you, what did, though, was the date. 

July 1st, 2008

You were about to ask someone about it when you bumped into a blonde woman, falling on the ground. As soon as you looked up, you almost chocked yourself. If the day was already weird, this was even weirder. A.J Cook was standing right in front of you with a concerned look. You couldn't really say anything, just staring at her like she wasn't real. It was weird seeing her in front of you after only seeing her through screens. 

“I’m so sorry!” she said as she offered a hand for you to get up. “Are you ok?”

“I- um, yes! I’m fine.” you san, getting the dirt out of your outfit. “I’m a big fan of yours! Wish I had my phone here to take a picture but- sorry.“ you stoped talking, realizing she probably doesn’t care.

“Big fan of me? Wow, howcome somebody’s a fan of me?” she sounds surprised.

“Well, you’re on Criminal Minds.” you say as it was obvious. 

She looked at you as if you were out of your mind. Not that you weren't thinking otherwise at the moment, anyways. 

“I’m on what now?” she asked.

Maybe you got confused and she was the wrong person, but she looked so much like her to not be her. If they were not the same person, then definitely twins. This was so weird, once again, you found yourself asking ‘what the hell’ mentally.

“You’re JJ, Jennifer Jareau, FBI Agent and all.” you say, trying one more time. “Behaviour Analysis Unit...”

“Yea, that‘s me.” she let a nervous laugh comes out of her mouth. “How do you know me?”

‘This is weird’ you thought. How does she not understand where you know her from? Literally Criminal Minds, like you said at first. ‘Maybe this is all a dream.’

“I saw you on tv” you try.

“Oh, I see! You like law enforcement?” she asks you.

“Oh yes, I’m in law-school to be a judge someday.” you answered. “The show, all of it just makes me wanna put all them bad guys in jail.” you say, laughing a bit. 

“The show...? What?” you hear her whisper, but decide to ignore it. “What’s the mask about?” JJ asks, making you look at her surprised.

“Um, covid-19?” you say like it’s obvious, because it is.

“Oh, sure...” she smiles as she says it, almost like she's only agreeing because she won't discuss it. “Great talking to you, really, but I gotta go, FBI duty calls.” she jokes.

You smile at her watching carefully as she picks up her phone from her pocket and pick up a call. That phone looked awfully old, like 2000’s old. Why would a famous actress have that kinda of phone? Then, you looked around trying to understand more about what was going on. It was all too out of place.

First, nobody wearing masks, not even a single person but you. Second, you were in a city in which is miles away from your own. Third, a famous actress acted like she’s nobody. And fourth, the date on the calendar said 2008.

If it wasn’t just impossible I would say I time travelled into Criminal Minds universe.

After standing there for literal 10 minutes trying to figure it out what you were going to do, you decide to go to the police department. After all, you may have been abducted, right? Because you didn’t have any knowledge of the place, you took quite some time to get there. As soon as you got there you sigh in relief, that has been quite a walk and damn, you were tired of this situation. 

“Excuse me, ma’am, can you help me?” you ask to the lady standing behind the counter.

“Sure, dear. What do you need?” she looks up at you, taking her glasses of her face.

“I think I might have been abducted?” you start. “I woke up in this random apartment.”

“Maybe you had a one-night stand.” she said putting back her glasses.

“No! I am sure I didn’t because first of all, there’s a pandemic going on, second of all I was in Bellevue in Washington state when I went to sleep.” you yell, involuntarily, desperate to make her believe in you. 

“Miss, I’m gonna need you to calm down or you will be escorted out of the building. You’re probably on drugs, there's nothing we can do for you.”

“Fuck you.” you say as you watch her face get all red.

Frustrated. That could define what you were feeling, scared and worried could do the work, as well. What were you going to do now? Go to the FBI to see if they could freaking understand why you simply appeared in Quantico? Didn't sound like a bad idea in your mind as you decided to just try it out. After all, you were already pretty screwed up, it would worth a shot.

You reached for your back pocket, hoping that the money you shoved in there more than a week ago would still be in there. Bingo! You pull out a 20 dollar bill out of it and the next thing you know you’re getting into a cab asking him to take you to the FBI. Now that’s something you never thought would happen. The travel was quite quick, in 20 minutos you were standing in front of that big isolated building. It looked like it was taken straight out of your favorite show, that was insane. 

The wind blew hard on you when you got out of the vehicle, making you shiver a little, that reminded you that you did not have any clothes nor money to buy more. God, you did not even have where to go. You didn't even get the chance to get into the building as a big man steps in front of you, blocking your way. 

“Miss, you're not allowed in this building.” he said without much expression. 

“But, sir-” you started, as you saw he was about to interrupt you, you go on. “Ive been abducted and I don't know where or how the hell did I get in here, I’m completely hopeless... Please.” you beg him.

He started at you for a couple of seconds, that felt like centuries for you, just to sigh at you.

“Ok, follow me.” he said. “Do not make me regret this.” 

“I-I won’t, sir.” you were quick to answer. 

The agent asked another man to cover up for him as he led me into the building. Once again you found yourself admired of how much it did look like a Criminal Minds episode in there, if you weren't totally desperate you'd be amused. Soon, you two were out of the elevator on floor 8, leading with the words Behavior Analysis Unit quite big. 

“Can you take her to Agent Jareau, please?” the man said to someone who passed by, who simply agreed. 

Now, that's a funny coincidence, there's actually an Agent Jareau in the BAU. 

You followed the woman with questioning trying to stay calm when you saw Matthew Gray Gubler sitting on a desk reading some book in Reid style, almost like he was Spencer himself. If you had any doubts you were going crazy, that was the final proof. You stoped walking, taking a stare at him and then at the Agent that stared a you like you were an alien.

“Is there something wrong?” she asks you. “Miss, are you ok?”

You were unable to answer for a few seconds when you finally opened you mouth, still trying to figure it out how to say what was on your mind without sounding completely insane.

“Is that Dr. Spencer Reid?” 

And that was all you’re able to say because as soon as you let his name out of your mouth he looked up at you, trying to somehow recognize you. You were sure, that time, that you never looked - and sounded - as insane as right now. 

“Yes, that's me.” he answers. 

His voice was the last thing you could hear before everything go black. Maybe you were finally going to wake up. Maybe. 

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

All the warnings listed on Part I apply. 

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V /  Part VI /  Part VII /  Part VIII  / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

Almost three months into his new life, Peter was finally able to establish a routine that worked for him. He woke up around nine in the morning, tried to get some sort of exercise done, usually yoga or a jog around the block, then he had breakfast by himself, because both Ned and MJ had class or work before he was even up. After that, he made sure to post something on Just4fans, so people could see it throughout the day, and answered private messages and comments from the night before. Lastly, he headed to his newly created Twitter account to promote the new content and to interact with people there as well – it was a great way to get new subscribers.

That usually took up most of his morning, then he went downstairs to Ned and MJ’s apartment for lunch. He usually ate with at least one of them, except for Mondays and Wednesdays, when neither was home, but even then he ate at their place since he didn’t own any kitchen appliances yet – it was on the priority list, but not that high up, he liked having an excuse to visit his friends every day.

Later, he headed back upstairs and, depending on the day, he would take new pictures and videos or edit the ones he took the day before. Finally, at night, he posted more content on his Just4fans and chatted with his subscribers until it was time for bed.

In the last week of April, on one of his morning jogs, he noticed that just a few blocks away from his building there was a charity called the Bright Future Foundation. He thought the name sounded familiar, but try as he may, he couldn’t remember where he had heard of them. It was only after running past it a few times that it clicked – Mr. Harrington, his science teacher, told Peter to look it up.

The Bright Future Foundation helped kids who aged out of foster care get their lives together. They offered support in the form of scholarships and grants, academic and personal mentoring, and help with internships and employment readiness skills. That was what their website said, as Peter vaguely remembered from his high school years, when he still planned on going to college.

He went inside one day, not really sure why, and when the front desk lady asked how she could help him he just stood there for a few minutes, silent and nervous. She asked if he wanted to learn about their programs, but he shook his head, sticking his hands in his pockets. The woman waited patiently, a motherly smile on her face, until Peter asked if they needed any help.

And that was how volunteering at BFF became a part of his new routine – every Thursday from nine to five, starting in the first week of May. Since it was just a few blocks away from his place, he could walk there instead of taking the subway.

He liked his new routine, it was tiring but it didn’t leave a lot of time for overthinking or ruminating on the past. He never felt lonely because Ned and MJ were always around and he actually made a few friends among his subscribers, which was nice.

For the first time in a while, Peter was feeling happy. And it wasn’t an elaborate, fragile sort of happiness, where things needed to be in perfect place for the feeling to be felt, no. It was the simplest kind of happiness: he had friends, a job, a place to crash and everything was fine. Nothing was perfect, but it was fine.

A few days after he sent Tony the lingerie pictures, he decided to send him the video. He was a little insecure about it, it was 13 minutes long after editing and Peter had really lost it for a minute there, one could clearly tell. He was gone for most of the video, a moaning mess, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, begging for something – someone – that wasn’t even there. It either looked ridiculous or fucking hot depending on the person watching, and even though he was pretty sure Tony would not think it was ridiculous, he still worried just a little, but he sent it anyway. It was still early in the day when he did, some time around noon, and he didn’t expect him to answer any time soon, so went on with his day.

Tony messaged him around 2AM, as usual, but there was no text, just three videos in the chat. In the first one, it looked like he was wearing a suit, he could see the dress pants pulled down and the white shirt pulled up as Tony jacked off for thirty seconds before he came all over his hand. It looked like he was in a bathroom stall, sitting on a toilet, and Peter bit his lower lip, wondering if he was at work when the video was taken.

The second video was similar to the first, but it looked like he was in a garage or something like that – probably the workshop he always talked about –, Peter could see a black shirt bunched up around his waist and sweatpants around his thighs.

Last but not least there was a video of him completely naked, lying in bed, and the video was shot from Tony’s point of view, like he was holding his cell phone close to his face, looking down, instead of propping it up in front of him like he usually did.

They were all incredible and delicious and got Peter rock hard in a second. The boy got comfortable on the bed, lay on his back, took off his pajama bottoms and sighed when his cock sprung free, shivering a little when the chilly night air touched his heated skin. He planted his feet on the mattress and spread his legs, but didn’t do more than that yet.

“That good?” He messaged Tony, cheekily, and the older man started typing right away.

“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me in my whole entire life and I’m 48, so yeah. That good.”

Hm, forty-eight. So Peter wasn’t wrong in his assumption. He bit his lower lip, a rush of excitement running through his veins. Tony was so much older, almost thirty years his senior. Peter supposed he must be really experienced. He wondered if he usually hooked up with younger men or if in real life he only dated women – it wouldn’t be a shock – but most of all, he wondered what he looked like. Maybe he dyed his hair, but if he didn’t, it was probably mostly gray and fuck Peter if he didn’t have a thing for that.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You broke me. I was in the middle of a meeting when you sent that video, I had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom to watch it. What have you done to me, witch?” Peter wanted to laugh, but it got stuck in the back of his throat with a moan when he slid a hand to his lower abdomen and his cock stood to attention.

“I don’t know about that, but your videos sure got me horny as fuck.” He rolled his hips a little, humping the air, and finally gave in to himself, holding his cock in one hand and the cellphone in the other.

“Is that so?” He could almost hear his voice through the phone – soft, but powerful. He always imagined Tony would sound like that if they ever talked face to face.

“Yes, daddy” And that would always be his default answer to anything he might ask with that voice. He closed his eyes for a second, quickening the pace of his strokes just a little, when his phone beeped again.

“Are you touching yourself right now?”

“Yes, daddy” Peter shivered, imagining Tony’s reaction to that revelation.

“Can I hear you, baby boy?”

He didn’t even hesitate, he started recording a voice message and moaned into the phone, thrusting his hips against his fist as he quietly begged for Tony’s cock, his fingers, his mouth, anything, he just wanted the man to be there taking care of him, making him cum, that was all he wanted, and he wanted it so badly.

He came in just a few seconds and hit send on the voice message before he could overthink it. As he lay there, breathless, staring at the ceiling and trying to gather his strength, he fantasized about Tony listening to it. He smiled to himself, like an idiot, then his cellphone beeped, bringing him back to reality.

“You’re gonna drive me mad, you know that? I’m actually going insane and it’s all your fault. Also, my dick is gonna fall off and that’s on you, too.” Peter had the presence of mind to laugh at the message, but it took him a few seconds to gather enough energy to write back to him.

“That’s a serious accusation, Tony, I’m gonna need all the evidence I can get, so every time you touch yourself thinking of me, make sure to send me proof, ok?”

“Oh, you don’t know what you just got yourself into.” Again, Peter could only laugh, because judging by the amount of videos Tony sent him that day, he really was in for a treat.

Days later, on Friday, Peter got up early to go for his usual jog around the block. He was a little tired from the day before, still adjusting to his new routine at BFF – it was his third week there and they were starting to realize that Peter was a quick learner and very eager to help, so they took advantage of that, which was fine with him, he was thrilled to be able to help somehow.

So after a quick, half-assed jog around the block, he went back home, showered and decided to take the rest of the pictures Tony asked for. The man was still going nuts over the video, he wouldn’t stop talking about it and every day there was a video of him finishing himself off in their chat and Peter could hear his own voice in the background, screaming Tony’s name.

It was both embarrassing as fuck and hot as hell, so the younger man also spent a lot of those last few days in the shower trying to cool down, but Tony was not making it easier.

As much fun as that was, he was curious to see how Tony would react to the new pictures. He realized that would be the first time the older man would see him with clothes on, which sounded ridiculous, but it was true. He didn’t have many pictures on Instagram, but most of them were selfies and there were just a few where it was possible to see maybe a hint of a shirt, but that was it.

So he took the outfit he and MJ picked out and winced, remembering how much it cost, but at least he picked out clothes he might wear some day – if he had a meeting with the queen of England, for example. He put on the light gray suit by Hugo Boss, with a pink shirt with big, white dots by Levi’s Vintage underneath, black dress shoes by Brunello Cucinelli and a Gucci watch he was able to find on sale for half the original price. The whole outfit was worth around five thousand dollars, and was definitely the most money he had ever spent on – well, anything.

He checked himself in the mirror and snorted a little, he sure looked like a spoiled brat, which was probably what Tony meant by “expensive and beautiful”, so that was fine. He styled his hair so it looked effortlessly tousled, but not too much, and set his camera to take the pictures by the living room window.

He took a few pictures on the windowsill, some other leaning against the glass with his hands in his pockets, a few others looking out the window. He posed on his armchair, too, which was the only piece of furniture he had in his living room at the moment and he wished he had a decent dining table so he could pose like he was on a date with the camera, but he supposed those would do.

Once he was satisfied with what he got, he took off the clothes, put them away and went downstairs to have lunch with Ned and MJ. For the first time since he moved in with them, they both had Friday afternoon off, so they spent it together, eating junk food, watching bad TV series and playing really old tabletop games Ned had brought with him when he moved from his parents’ house.  

In between a game of Monopoly and Scrabble, Peter pulled his phone out to check his messages, and was surprised to find one from Tony, sent just a few minutes earlier. He checked the time and noticed he must still be at work, so he opened it, assuming it couldn’t be anything too sexual.

“Hey, are you feeling better today? Just checking in.”

Peter frowned for a second, but a quick look at their earlier messages reminded him that he was feeling a little under the weather the day before and he’d told Tony that before he went to bed.

“Hi, Tony! I’m all better now, thanks for asking. I guess it was just allergies or something.”

He didn’t expect Tony to answer right away, but as soon as his message was sent, he started typing.  

“That’s good to hear, but you need to be a little more careful with your health, kitten. Just yesterday you said you had an apple for lunch. At 4PM.”

“You’re one to talk.” Peter snorted. They always berated each other for poor eating habits. Peter was a 20 year-old bachelor living by himself and sharing meals with his equally young and dumb friends, so pizza was on the menu more often than not; Tony was a forty-eight year-old businessman with too little time to care. “Did you even eat today?”

“Don’t try to turn this around, this isn’t about me.” Peter rolled his eyes and smiled to himself. “Did you do anything fun today?”

“I took some pictures for you, it was quite fun.” He knew the mention of new pictures would get him interested in a minute.

“Don’t play with my heart, kid. When can I see them?”

“I don’t know...” He teased just a little, because he knew Tony wasn’t above begging and it was fun to watch.

“Don’t be mean to daddy, come on. He’s always so good to you.” Peter smiled, because, yeah. He was.

“I’ll send them tonight, I promise.” He decided, since they would have more time to talk then, if he sent the pictures earlier, Tony would still be at work and Peter would still be at his friends’.

“Good boy.”

“You know I am.”

“What are you smiling about? Who are you talking to?” Ned looked suspiciously at him, so he quickly put the phone down and shook his head with a nervous smile.

“Just a subscriber with a bad one-liner.”

MJ looked at him like she knew a secret, but Ned just shrugged and finished setting up the game.  They ended up calling it a draw and ordering pizza afterwards, but Peter went back home early because both Ned and MJ had work the next morning.

Once he got upstairs, he went to edit Tony’s pictures and since it was still a little early to send them, he decided to check his twitter DMs. He didn’t read them very often, he already had his plate full with JustForFans, but every once in a while he checked them and answered as many as he could. Most of the messages were dick pics anyway, he just ignored those. Some others were people being nosy and asking way too personal questions, or worse, asking about Beck. He learned how to talk his way around those, but one message in particular stood out and really got to him.  

“I’m so glad you’re doing okay, honey! The way Beck is with his new boy now makes me wonder if he ever even loved you. He sure moved on quickly. You’re better off without him anyway, I always liked you better.”

That sort of comment wasn’t exactly unusual, but that second part caught him a little off guard. Makes me wonder if he ever even loved you. It just – why would she say that?  The way Beck is with his new boy. What way, exactly? What could he possibly be doing that made that person assume Beck never even loved him? People thought they were perfect together, they said it all the time, so much so that Peter himself was almost convinced of it for most of their relationship, so why in the hell would anyone think he loved this other guy more? To the point of assuming he didn’t even love Peter in the first place?

He was a masochist, he decided, as he opened Instagram. And not even the good kind of masochist, because there wasn’t any pleasure involved in what he was about to do, just pain. He unblocked Beck’s profiled and fucking looked. He didn’t know what he expected to find, but just looking at the first picture was enough to make him realize it was a terrible fucking idea. It was a black and white picture of him and the new guy cuddling in bed, kissing with soft smiles on their faces, captioned: “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Peter closed the app quickly, he didn’t need to see that. It meant nothing.

That picture meant nothing. That caption meant nothing. Because Beck was a fucking liar, a fucking actor, a fucking illusionist, a fucking – artist. He painted beautiful pictures, he weaved beautiful words, but none of that meant anything. Because it never meant anything when it was Peter in his arms, so why would–

Fuck, he should be over him, so fucking over him. But he really wasn’t, he would go back to that toxic environment if Beck snapped his fingers and that was scary to know. It was fucking terrifying to realize he was one text away from crawling back to him, even after all the humiliation, even after Beck just fucking up and left him with nothing – nothing –  he would still go right back to his arms. He still wanted to go right back to his arms.

It made him feel pathetic and weak because he knew that what they had was toxic and abusive. And he had known that for a while, way before they split up. Deep in his soul, he knew he was living a nightmare, day after day, over and over again, but he couldn’t fucking leave. He thought Beck was all he had. He promised him forever. He promised he would always be there for him. He was all Peter had in life, and he had lost so fucking much over the years, he couldn’t afford to lose anybody else.

But he did, didn’t he? He lost Beck. He was in someone else’s arms right that second, professing his undying, fake love.

Peter took a deep breath and held it a few seconds, then exhaled slowly.

He didn’t lose anything, he was set free. He was free and he had a record to break – it had been three days since he last cried about that asshole and he didn’t plan to ruin it.

He closed Instagram and went to his Just4Fans. He posted a few pictures from a phoshoot he did earlier that week that made him feel sexy and confident, which was the opposite of how he felt at that moment, but he was going to fake it until he made it.

In a few minutes, he got lots of comments and private messages with compliments, but somehow none of them was enough to fill the empty spot Beck left when he dumped him.

Well, none except for one.

“Were you planning on giving an old man a heart attack today? ‘Cause that’s how you give an old man a heart attack.” The silly message got a smile out of him, and that was a lot considering how broken he felt.

“Lol. It wasn’t in my plans, no, but now I’m worried. Is the old man okay?” He joked, and immediately got an answer in his inbox.

“He’s waiting for you to keep your promise. Says he refuses to die before he sees some pictures of you? Do you happen to know anything about that?” Peter chuckled.

“Oh, yeah, I think I know what he’s talking about. Hold on a sec.”

He selected his ten favorite pictures with the date outfit and sent them to Tony, feeling butterflies in his stomach for reasons he couldn’t explain. He lay in bed for several minutes, staring at his phone, waiting for an answer, but the older man didn’t say anything, even though Peter could see he was still online. He started to get a little anxious, worried that he had messed up somehow, so he messaged him again.

“Well? Have I finally rendered the old man speechless?”

Almost at the same time as he sent his message, Tony replied:

“I need to see you.”

Peter’s heart almost jumped out of his mouth when he read those words, eyes widening in shock. I need to see you. He read it a few more times to make sure it meant what he thought it meant. It couldn’t possibly – Tony wouldn’t want to meet him. That would be absurd. He was – well, Peter wasn’t sure, but he sounded important most of the time, he was definitely very rich, very hardworking and he seemed like a really nice guy. So really, why would he want to meet Peter. That made absolutely no sense, obviously he meant something different than that, he just didn’t quite know what–

“Please,” said the next message, just a few seconds later.

Peter bit his lower lip, feeling his face grow warmer. Just for the hell of it, he thought – what if Tony did mean he wanted to meet him? What then? Peter couldn’t say yes, that would be insane. He didn’t even know the man, all he knew were little things about his daily life, he didn’t know his last name, if he had a family, if he was married, if he was a psychopath – he didn’t even know what he looked like!

Still, he fantasized about saying yes. But that was just a fantasy. He couldn’t do it, that would be crazy.

Right?

“You won’t regret it, I’ll treat you right.”

Well, fuck. He had to go straight for his Achilles’s heel, huh.

Peter kept staring at the bright screen of his phone, breathing slowly to try to contain his wild heart that seemed adamant to burst out of his chest cavity in the next few minutes. He didn’t know what to say. No, his brain supplied, like it was obvious, because it was, right? He couldn’t say yes, yes was not a viable answer. He had to say no, it was only a matter of how he would say it without hurting the older man’s ego.

But.

Why exactly did he have to say no? He knew there were ate least 99 good answers to that question, but he couldn’t think of one, so–

“How do I know you’re not a serial killer?” Peter asked, even though he wasn’t really worried about that, it was the last thing on his mind, to be honest.

“You’ll know.” He said, plain and simple, and not helpful at all. And still, no flight response whatsoever from Peter’s brain. His stupid mind couldn’t seem to understand that that was clearly a terrible idea.“We’ll meet in a restaurant, the best in New York, and nothing else has to happen, I promise. We’ll have a nice dinner and that’s it. I just need to see you in person.”

That sounded reasonable, didn’t it? A public place, lots of eyes on them. If Tony turned out to be a creep, he could just leave. At the very worst, he’d be disappointed and lose a very generous subscriber; at the very best, he’d get a good meal out of it and who knew what else. It sounded reasonable. So it was probably reasonable.

Right?

“Can I wear this outfit?” He asked, because, well, that was all he had to wear to New York City’s best restaurant – whatever that was.

“You must, baby.” He answered quickly, and Peter smiled to himself. “So I’ll take that as a yes, then?”

He typed a quick yes, but didn’t send it right away. He gave his brain a few seconds to come up with reasons to say no, because he knew there were good reasons for that, but he really, honestly, just wanted to say–  

“Yes.”

“Perfect.” He replied right away, as if he had been staring at the phone, waiting for his answer. “I’ll set a time and place and let you know. You won’t regret it, Peter.”

Peter loved all the pet names Tony gave him, they were all sweet and funny, but when he called him by his actual name, it just hit different. It felt good. Like he wasn’t just a pretty picture in a porn app, an expensive hobby, but a person. It was hard for him to remember that, sometimes.

Some other times, it felt good to forget.

[moon-light-jukebox]

Our boy - [Reid x Reader]

Summary: Spencer Reid is anything but calm when his wife, reader, goes into labor.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Rating: Wholesome AF

Word Count: 2.3k

Category: Pure fluff. Maybe some angst if you squint, just because childbirth is angsty.

Content Warning: None that I can think of.

A/n: This is just a quick little idea that popped into my head earlier. I wrote it all in one go. We don’t get enough Dad!Spencer. 😊 Reader’s labor was inspired by true events. 

y/n = your name. italicized block of text is a flash back.

-- Our boy -- 

“Babe, you have got to calm down.” I didn’t even bother opening my eyes to look at my husband; I was too tired.

His voice was as close to a squawk as I have ever heard. “I am calm, y/n!” That had me cracking one eye open to stare at him, which caused him to huff out a short laugh. “Okay, maybe I’m not calm. But how can I be calm?” His beautiful brown eyes were swimming with worry. “This has taken such a long time, and you’re so tired. The doctor said things haven’t been progressing.”

“Oh, come on, doctor,” I said teasingly. “I’m sure that big brain of yours knows that it’s not uncommon for first time mothers to labor for a long time.”

“But it’s been thirty hours,” he protested.

“I’m aware. Talk to your son.” I pointed to my very large stomach. “This is his show.”

That caused him to smile, the first real smile I had seen on his face since he arrived here, about an hour after I did. We knew this was coming, I was overdue, our son choosing to stay inside my body for 41 weeks and 6 days. The doctors had said if I hit 42 weeks that we needed to discuss inducing labor. Because of that conversation, Spencer wasn’t with the rest of the team, they were on some case in god knows where, instead he was helping at headquarters with Penelope. The same woman I had called when my water broke. I wanted to call Spencer, I really did…but my husband is prone to overact, especially in situations like this.

Turns out calling Penelope wasn’t any better.

--

“Hello, Mrs. Dr. Reid!” she had chirped.

“Hi Penelope. Is my husband around?”

“He is with the second love of his life.”

Which meant he had made a coffee run. I laughed, despite the pain rippling across my stomach. “Okay, well, I need you to pull him away for the first love of his life. My water just broke.”

There was a beat of silence before the screaming started. “YOUR WHAT JUST WHAT?!”

Just at that moment I heard him in the background. “Garcia,” my husband said. “Who’s what did what?”

“Penelope, be-“

It was no use; she had already started screaming at him. “YOUR WIFE! YOUR SON IS TRYING TO EXIT HER LADY BUSINESS! WE HAVE TO GO!!”

They then promptly hung up, only to call back a few minutes later and ask which hospital I was at.

--

There was a knock on the door, drawing me out of my memories. “Mrs. Reid?” the doctor called before walking into the room. She was a short woman with curly grey hair; Spencer and I had never met her before, she was just the doctor on call, but something about her demeanor put me at ease.

I gave her a wan smile. “Hey Doc.”

She marched into the room them, no nonsense to be found; which was unfortunate, I was a very big fan of nonsense as perfectly highlighted by the man I chose to marry. “Mrs. Reid, I need to check to see where you’re at,” she said, already snapping on her gloves.

“Knock yourself out.” At a certain point during labor modesty just vanishes. I don’t even want to think about how many people have seen my vagina today.

I felt some pressure for a few seconds before she pulled back. “You’re still at 5 centimeters.”

This comment got a groan from my husband. “But she has to get to 10!”

“I’m aware, Dr. Reid.”

“She’s been in labor for 30 hours and 23 minutes and 16 seconds!”

“I am also aware of that, Dr. Reid,” she said, suppressing a smile. “Which is why we need to have a little chat.” She turned to me. “Mrs. Reid, I’m concerned about the baby.”

That caused mine and Spencer’s spines to stiffen. “What,” I asked. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Not yet,” the doctor said hurriedly. “We have been monitoring your contractions and vitals…but we also monitor the baby’s heartrate. It’s nothing to be too alarmed about now, but his heartrate has slowed a bit.”

“But what does that mean? Is he in destress?” My husband asked; he sounded so afraid that I instinctively reached out to grasp his hand.

“It means he’s tired, Dr. Reid.” She offered us a small smile. “Mrs. Reid isn’t the only one going through this. The baby is too. Like I said, it’s not low enough to be an issue now, but if it drops much lower, we need to discuss other options.”

“…he’s tired?” my voice cracked on the last word, tears already pricking in the corners of my eyes.

“Baby,” Spencer whispered, leaning over to place a kiss on my temple. “It’s alright.”

I shook my head. “It’s not. It’s not alright. He’s my baby, Spencer. He’s our baby,” I all but bawled at him. “Our baby is tired.” I’m sure one day I’ll look back at this moment and feel silly for how upset I had become…but I was so tired, and while the epidural numbed the pain, I still felt it. All of that I could endure, but I couldn’t endure this.

“I know,” he soothed. “But he’s fine. He’s okay.”

“I want to discuss other options,” I said, meeting the doctor’s gaze. “What are they?”

The doctor nodded, “Well, we could start a Pitocin IV. That’s a medicine we use to-“

“Cause the uterus to contract and speed up or induce labor,” Spencer interrupted, causing me to laugh, despite my tears. Even in times like this he was still…Spencer.

The doctor did not share in my amusement. “Yes,” she huffed. “That is one option. It runs the same risks, if his heartrate drops, we’ll need to move you to the O.R.” I gulped and Spencer squeezed my hand. “The other option is to take you back to the O.R. now.”

I looked over at Spencer, his eyes were wide and frightened, his always messy, curly hair was in a worse state than usual, his clothes were wrinkled. “I want our boy, Spence.”

He just nodded, bringing our joined hands up to his mouth to press a kiss to my knuckles. “It’s up to you, y/n. You know I’ll support whatever you want.”

Spencer gave me the courage to turn to face the doctor. “Let’s do it.”

--

Things progressed very quickly and very slowly at the same time. The room started bustling with different people doing different things to get me ready. Spencer called Penelope, who called the rest of his team, who were now all in the waiting room. How much Spencer’s co-workers at the FBI cared about him made me smile; they were his family, and by extension my family. Our little boy was going to be the most well looked after child in history.

Before I knew it, I was laying on my back in the operating room, a blue sheet put up just below my boobies. Apparently, most people didn’t want to watch themselves have a c-section. I couldn’t but laugh at the absurdity of the moment.

“What is it, my love?”

I turned my head to look at Spencer. His clothes were covered by some sort of yellow outfit, his hair was stuffed in one of those blue hat’s hospitals make you wear, I’m sure he could tell me the proper name, even his shoes were covered. One of his hands was gripping mine, the other slowly stroking the top of my head.

“I was just thinking about everything. Remember when we met?”

I realized how silly it was to ask a man with an eidetic memory if he remembered something right after I said it, something with which he agreed, given the look on his face. “Yes, y/n, I remember.” His hand squeezed mine tightly. “It was a Tuesday morning, at 7:34 a.m. You had on black pants and a light blue top, you didn’t notice me, but I thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world.”

That caused a tear to slide down from the corner of my eye, only to be wiped away by my husband. “I didn’t notice you because you were in line behind me,” I teased.

“That’s no excuse,” he insisted. “I would notice you anywhere.”

That made my heart squeeze in my chest. “I must be pretty special,” I surmised. “I pulled your attention away from coffee.”

His voice was breathy, his eyes shimmering. “You’re the most special thing in the entire world, y/n. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I don’t know how I got the courage to speak to you when you walked by me, but I’ll be grateful that I did it for the rest of my life.”

It was my turn to reach up and wipe a tear from his face. “I’m glad you stopped me,” I whispered. “Our little guy probably is too.”

Spencer didn’t laugh like I expected him to; instead he bit his lip, his eyes bouncing from my face to the blue curtain that separated us from the doctors.

“What is it, baby?”

He swallowed, letting out a shaky breath. “I’m scared, y/n,” he whispered. “I’m afraid that I won’t be any good at this. I never had a dad…What if I’m not everything he needs me to be?”

I felt my heart crack in half. “Spencer, that’s not possible,” I insisted, ignoring the way he started to shake his head. “You could never let anyone down, especially not your family. Especially not your son. You are going to be the most amazing father. You’re going to love our son so much; you already do love him that much, Spence.”

He was crying in earnest now. “But, y/n,”

Spencer never got to finish that sentence. The doctor suddenly interrupted our hushed conversation. “Okay, dad,” she called. “Here he comes!”

My husband placed a kiss on my forehead before he stood up, looking over the curtain. He had insisted beforehand that he wasn’t going to look; he said he didn’t want to see me like that, but I knew he’d end up looking. My husband was far too curious to do anything else.  

A shrill cry cut through the air, causing my heart to stop. That was him. I had never heard him cry before, but I knew that sound as sure as I knew my own name; that was my son.

Spencer and I were crying when the doctor brought him around the curtain so I could see him. He was wrinkly, red, and looked positively furious. I had never loved anything more.

They took him to the examination room to make sure he was breathing okay. Spencer had told me after c-section births this was normal. “They don’t get squeezed when they’re born,” he had said. “So, the nurse checks them over, weighs them, all that.”

He looked down at me, tears streaming down his face, then back towards our son.

“Go,” I urged him. “Go get our boy, Spence. I’m fine.”

--

Spencer’s head poked through the door of my room. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“REID. If you don’t get the fuck out of my way and let me see my godson I swear to GOD.”

“Oh,” I groaned, giggling slightly, despite the pain. “Please don’t make me laugh.”

I don’t know if Spencer moved willingly or if Penelope had just had enough, but soon the door was thrown open and a parade of people poured inside.

“Oh, my god, Mrs. Dr. Reid,” Penelope gushed, her hands hovering over my son, then back up towards my face. “You look like an angel. How did you just have major surgery? How did you just give birth, because a c-section is giving birth-“

“Penelope,” I cut her off. “Do you want to see him?”

“Gimme.”

I pulled the blankets down around his body, staring at his little face before I handed him over.

“Oh, my mother effin god,” she whispered, looking around at everyone else in the room. “He is the most beautiful child I have ever seen. He even looks like a genius. I don’t know if you can look like a genius, but I think he does.”

“You don’t have to whisper, Garcia,” my husband said, coming to stand beside me, leaning over to kiss my forehead again. “She is right though, Mrs. Dr. Reid. You’re beautiful.”

“Quit hogging the baby,” JJ said, reaching for him. “I’m the co-god mother. Hand him over.”

Emily leaned over JJ’s shoulder, staring at him with a look of wonder. “What did you guys decide to name him?”

“Arthur,” I said quietly. “His name is Arthur Spencer Reid.”

--

The room was dark when I opened my eyes, my head turning towards the tiny cry that woke me up.

“I know, I know,” my husband whispered to the tiny bundle in his arms. “I miss your mom too; she’s the best person in the world and I wish she could be awake all the time too.” I bit my lip, trying to suppress my laugh. “But you have to let her sleep some, little man.” My son gave another cry. “I know, believe me.”

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice thick with sleep.

“Talking to Arthur,” he said simply. “You know, speaking to a child whenever they reach the babbling stage of their cognitive development is actually very important. It encourages them to learn the language they’re hearing. You know, children are actually experts at learning languages. Studies have shown that children that become fluent in a language before the age of 13 are often able to fool native speakers into thinking they’re native speakers themselves.”

“Huh,” I said, smiling like a dope. That was my Spencer. “Did you hear that, Arthur? It sounds like your dad wants to teach you some languages.”

“Only a couple,” he whispered to our boy. Then he looked up at me, his eyes bright, despite the dark circles under them.

“You’re tired, babe,” I said, moving to sit up. “Give him here, you can get some rest.”

He just shook his head. “No, I’m alright. You rest.” Spencer looked down at his son again, who was already back to sleep. “No dream I have could be better than this.”

As usual, Dr. Spencer Reid was absolutely right.

-- 

Taglist: @rachelxwayne​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @sickeninglyshoujo @justagirllookingforherplace 

[lawslessons]

A Healing Touch (Law x Reader)

“It just takes one touch, and then you’ll know in an instant that they’re the one for you. They’ll be the one that heals you...”

Hello, dears! I hope you all enjoy this! This is the letter N from the soulmate list, nursing! The premise is that a touch from your soulmate is enough to heal any ailment, any illness forever. Because of my school work load and some health issues, I may be publishing less just to take care of myself. Thank you for understanding. Love you all!

Modern! Au

Warnings: Terminal/Chronic illness, medical devices, mentions of death

Synopsis: It had been years since they had first found out they were sick. Another broken down van and another hospital trip for them to hear news they already knew before: Their illness was chronic and slowly becoming worse as time went on. But one faithful encounter with a certain doctor may be enough to change their path for the better. 

“How many years has it been since we found out you had this? Seven? Eight?” Nami asked with a small sigh as she sat with her friend on the small chair that was by the hospital bed. Her friend smiled and shook their head.

“Ten,” Ten softly said as they looked up at the ceiling as the IV in their skin slowly inserted the fluids into their system. Their eyes were somewhat dull and the bags had become more prominent from the lack of sleep these past couple of days and the serious lack of nutrition.

“The feeding tube doesn’t look comfortable,” Nami winced as she looked at the tube inside of her friend’s nose. They laughed and smiled at Nami with an affectionate smile on their face.

“You’re right, it isn’t. But I need this, I haven’t been able to keep food down in days,” they pointed out as they looked at the monitors that were next to them and saw all the vitals they were presenting. “I’m sick of being in these damn hospitals all the time though,” They said as they rubbed their face in some frustration. “I want to be able to go back and explore and have fun with you and the gang again. This is just ridiculous at this point, I’m holding you guys back,” They frowned. Nami frowned with them and moved to hold onto their hand and squeeze it.

“No, no you’re not. You can’t control your illness, no one blames you for that. Besides, maybe we can finally find a doctor here that can actually give more answers inside of just giving you fluids,” Nami sighed, the woman read the look on her friend’s face and saw that they weren’t as confident as she was in having answers so soon for this illness.

“Maybe, I’m not sure,” they sighed. “It’s getting harder each time I’m stuck here,” they said as they looked at their wrist with the numerous hospital bands on it. Nami watched the light beginning to fade from her friend’s eyes and it broke her heart just a little more.

“We can look for another — “ Nami was quickly cut off by a knock on the door and someone opening the door.

“Is this (Y/N)?” A gruff and tired voice asked as he started to look through his tablet. Part of his face was obscured by his blue mask, but they were able to see some tattoos on his hands as he typed some vital work on his tablet. “I’m the immunology specialist here, I’m here on a special consult for your case,” He said as he checked the fluids being given to them and typed some more.

“What’s your name?” Nami asked.

“Doctor Law,” The man said as he stepped back from the vital machines and looked over at Nami and her friend for a brief second. “Alright, I’m starting you on a new course of antibiotics and we’re going to take some blood samples to get some tests run,” he said as he looked up from his tablet. “Any questions?” It didn’t look like he wanted to ask that, it seemed as if he was forced to ask that out of obligation for his job. They knew that, so they knew better than to ask, but Nami didn’t seem to know that.

“How do you know that you need to start them on something new? You didn’t even do an exam,” she pointed out.

“I don’t need to,” The doctor shrugged, and they sighed at that.

“Nami, it’s alright. It’s not like he’s going to find anything new about my condition anyways,” they sighed. But the moment the words left their lips, they regretted it. Law visibly scowled and he looked away from the two who were in the room with him.

“Excuse me. I need to check on some other patients now,” he said before he went to leave the room a bit rigidly. They both watched as Law left the room and winced when the door was closed a bit roughly behind him. Silence ensued for a moment before Nami began to snicker and laugh.

“Why did you say that? I don’t think it’s a good idea to make your doctor mad,” Nami teased. They rolled their eyes and smiled at their friend.

“It’s whatever, he know’s I’m right. No doctor has been able to figure this out, what makes him think he’s so special?” They asked. Nami had to admit that what they were saying was true, she had even seen this play out in other cities and other hospitals throughout the country. They continued to talk for a few more hours before a nurse came in to inform Nami that it was time for her to leave.

“I’ll see you in the morning, alright?” Nami assured her friend as the nurses changed her friend’s medication and wrote some notes down for the doctor who as working on her friend’s case.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then,” they smiled before they started to drift off to sleep from the heavy doses of the new medication they were now on. They slept for a while until they heard something fall down in their room. They stirred in their sleep and tiredly rubbed their eyes to look up at who was in their room. Their eyes met gray ones and for a moment, the world was still between them.

“Sorry, I dropped my pen,” Law softly said as he picked up his tablet’s pen and pocketed it and looked down at the person who was staring at him. “I’m sorry that I woke you up,” he said as he awkwardly took a step back.

“Why are you here?” They asked.

“I’m checking your levels. You had low sugar and your pulse was low too,” Law explained as he looked at the monitor again. “Your levels are leveling out now, but I’m going to need you to stay here for a few more days for observation. I looked through your medical history and it would put me at ease if you stayed here,” Law said as he looked down at them again. They smirked and shook their head.

“Put you at ease?” They teased. Law scoffed and looked away.

“You know what I mean. I’m waiting on some of your tests results to come back, you know by now how slow the labs can be,” Law casually said as he looked at his tablet again. They were surprised, was he really trying to make conversation with them?

“I do know, I’ve been in and out of hospitals for ten years,” They shared. Law looked over at them and seemed to be giving them more of his attention so they could elaborate. “I was pretty young, like fourteen? Fifteen? I can’t remember, the years are blending together at this point. Anyways, I was just at school and suddenly I wasn’t. Suddenly I couldn’t stomach milk, gluten, anything. And then I felt like I was constantly on fire, I found out I was having an allergic reaction to the air freshener in my house. And when we went to the hospital, we found out that my organs were starting to shut down from how intense the reaction was. More than me being scared, my friends were terrified. My best friend Nami cried so much, we missed prom together with our other friends because of this,” They shared. And before they even knew it, Law pulled up a chair next to them and they spent the rest of the night talking, they honestly would’ve talked longer if it wasn’t for Law’s pager going off.

“I need to take this, I’ll see you later then,” He said before he had to stand up and leave. For the time they were talking to one another, they didn’t feel sick. But the second he was out of the room, their stomach started to turn and churn rather uncomfortably inside of them. They tried to get as much rest as they could before Nami and the rest of the crew came in with masks on.

“Hello! Did you sleep well?” Nami asked as she sat down next to her friend.

“Well — “ “Oi, there was someone weird standing by the door,” Luffy said as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and Zoro pointed at the door.

“Was he tall? Dark hair and with tattoos?” They asked, this emphasis on details didn’t seem to slip by Nami or Robin for that matter.

“Yeah, he was,” Usopp said while they felt their face grow a little more flushed.

“Why don’t you guys go see what’s in the cafeteria while me and Robin talk to them?” Nami suggested. And before anyone could protest, Luffy began to laugh and grab his friend’s by their hands and drag them out of the room to check out the hospital food. “Ok, so what happened after I left? I missed a lot,” Nami pouted while Robin chuckled next to her.

“I didn’t sleep that much last night,” they began before explaining with an embarrassed smile what they and Law had talked about in the night. By the end, Nami had a big smile plastered across her face.

“You like your doctor, don’t you?” Nami teased.

“Hush! No I don’t. I haven’t even known him that long,” they defended.

“I don’t believe that is a good criteria to measure it by,” Robin said with a small smile. Nami nodded in agreement before she pointed an accusatory finger at her friend.

“You’re avoiding the truth because you’re scared! You like him, and that’s ok to admit,” Nami tried to assure them. They looked a little hesitant, they brought their legs up to their chest and sighed.

“I am scared, I will admit that. I’m scared because I haven’t liked someone since I’ve gotten sick and I’m worried about what may happen if I were to one day… you know…” The trio went silent at that and all of their minds began to spin.

“Maybe that won’t happen,” Robin hopefully said, being hopeful like this wasn’t like her, so Nami knew that her friend had more to explain. “There’s this phenomenon where soulmates are able to cure each other of their ailments when they’re finally together,” she explained. Their jaw dropped and they quickly looked away.

“First you say I like him and now you’re saying soulmates? Isn’t that a bit much?” They softly asked. “I mean, I don’t think that’s possible, things like that happen in fairytales to royals, and I am not a royal. I am a regular person who is sick and dying,” a wave of sadness dropped over all of them at their words.

“Dying…?” Nami found herself asking her dear friend. They looked up at the ceiling and sighed softly.

“I’m tired of fighting,” They admitted. They heard the gasp of shock from Nami and could feel the frown from Robin, but that didn’t deter them. “There’s no point if there isn’t a cure. Every time I’m forced to be in a hospital, I get better for a few weeks and then I’m back and I’m worse than before,” their hands grabbed at the blankets as tears began to well into their eye’s. “I’m so tired of all this pain, it never ends…”

A few hours later, Nami and the rest of the group left when a nurse scolded them all for being too loud. When their friends were gone, they found themselves stuck in their own thought again. With their knees at their chest, a flood of negative emotions dropped over them and threatened to drown them before a voice seemed to pull them out of the water.

“I got your lab tests back,” He said as he closed the door behind himself and moved to be standing at the edge of his bed. “As you probably expect, the results aren’t good,” They scoffed at that and turned away from him. Why did he have to be so blunt? Couldn’t he read the situation. “But, I can do something about then,” Law shared as he tried to get them to look at him. He sighed and moved back to be a safe distance away before he pulled his mask down. When they saw his full face, their face went a soft shade of pink. Of course he had to be even more attractive, how was this even possible? “Are you listening to me?“ Law scowled, they quickly snapped out of their little day dream and nodded their head.

“Yes.”

“Anyways,” he sighed in some annoyance. “I need you to trust me,” He then said.

“Why? I don’t even know you that well,” They pointed out. Even though they talked all night, that wasn’t near enough time to get to know who he really was.

“You don’t know me? So what? I need you to trust in my medical skills,” Law sounded a little disappointed but they didn’t seem to care as much. After their talk with Robin and Nami earlier, their mind had been in one spot the entire night.

“And what if I refuse to go through with your treatment?” They asked.

“Your prognosis isn’t good,” Law looked dumbfound that they were even considering refusing his treatment, his advice. “I can only promise you weeks. Maybe a month.” They went quiet at that. The sobering thought of dying from their illness hit them. They didn’t even realize that it had gotten this bad until now.

“A month is all I need,” They finally said as they looked up at Law with a serious and content expression on their face.

“What?” Law asked in a small whisper. Were they being serious? A month? Was that all they really wanted?

“What is living if I’m stuck living in a hospital for another ten years? I would rather live one more month on the road with my friends. Our van is almost fixed, soon we can hit the road again. When it’s done, I want to leave here and live out the rest of my life,” They stated. Law looked absolutely appalled by what they were saying, while he never got involved with patient matters, he couldn’t help but feel drawn to them.

“No.” Law stated. His hands balled into fists and he glared down at the person in front of him. “You didn’t even listen to what I had to say, do you want to die that badly? Why?” Law asked. They didn’t seem to deny that, they knew that they were rejected Law’s suggestion without even listening to him.

“Do you think this is living? Laying down in a hospital bed? Not being able to eat? Crying constantly because of the pain? This isn’t living, this is hell. I’m in hell, Law,” They bluntly stated. “I just want to see heaven even if it’s only for a month, I’d give anything for that,” They admitted with tears freely flowing from their cheeks at this point. That caught Law off guard, he wasn’t expecting there to be tears. He never knew how to handle people who were crying.

“You’re right, that isn’t living,” Law agreed, “But I said I could help you, I just need you to trust me,” Law said as he put his mask on again and moved closer to them. “Do you think you can grow to trust me?” Law asked as he looked down at the patient in their bed. They looked up at Law and felt more tears burst out of them, they were overwhelmed with all the information they were given in one night.

“I’ll try,” They mumbled through their tears. Law sighed in relief and moved to stand back by the door again. If anything, they were only going through this just for Law and to appease him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Law said before he left.

The next day, the rigid treatment began. It involved Law personally giving injections to them along with fluids and more medications. He spent most of his time in their room over the next few days, and he even had to admit that he had grown attached to them the more time he spent around them. This was bad, wasn’t it? Even the nurses were talking about it.

“Doctor Law is going in there again.”

“I heard he was only here for a consult, but now he’s staying! Why is that?”

“Do you think he likes them?”

Law did his best to ignore all the words from his coworkers, but the more they spoke, the more Law reflected on his actions and the more he realized he was falling for them. Shit.

Days turned into weeks and soon they were two weeks into the process and they seemed to be doing much better than they previously were doing. And Law was too. In the nights, he would grab himself a coffee and go off to the room where they always were in and talked to them about his day at work and would hear about the shenanigans that were happening with their friends. He learned about their whole crew, Luffy was the head of their adventure and then there was Zoro, Sanji and so many others that sounded interesting. They even had a medical student traveling with them named Chopper, it sounded so fascinating to him.

“So, what’s the prognosis now? Think I’ll be better soon?” They asked Law with a hopeful look on their face. Law felt his chest tighten as they began to smile at the poor doctor.

“You should be better soon, you’re doing really good with your blood work and soon we’ll be able to give you real food,” Law explained. “What would you want to eat first?” Law found himself asking before a long conversation began between the two of them. His heart felt so, so warm, he could feel it beating even behind his eyes when he looked at them.

“Law?” They asked, “Is something wrong?” God, stop looking at me like that, Law pleaded in his head with no avail.

“No, no, you’re all good,” he assured them.

While they were at first making some progress health wise, the results that came in today were worrying Law.

“How are they that low? Why is their body rejecting the medicine now?” Law asked himself as he looked over the scans. This continued on for another three days. More tests, more worrying results and more worrying signs from them. Slurred speech, low energy, it was getting harder for them to breathe too and it was terrifying Law. Their friends were even more worried.

“Tra-guy, what’s happening?” Luffy asked with a small frown, he looked ta his friend through the window that was there and then at the taller doctor.

“I…I don’t know,” Law finally admitted. “I don’t know.” He felt like a massive failure, after all he made a promise to them to make them better. “You guys should go home now, it’s getting late. I’ll call you if I have any updates,” Law said as he looked into the window and sighed. He knew it was a mistake to get this attached to them. He knew it was farther than just being attached, he had fallen for them. Hard. It was late in the night when alarms started to blare near his area.

“Code Blue!” A nurse shouted as she stared to run with a crash cart to an all too familiar room. Law felt his heart drop while he was running, he slowed down and stopped in front of the room.

“Doctor Law! We need your help!” Another nurse shouted as she grabbed his hand and dragged the stunned doctor into the room. Law felt like he was having an out of body experience none of this felt real to him.

“Give me the paddles, now!” Law shouted as he was handed the paddles and quickly got them activated. He placed them on their chest and took in a deep breath, “Clear!” Their chest rose with the shock but their heart was still stagnant. “Charge to one-fifty!” He ordered as he looked at their tired face, God he couldn’t lose them. He couldn’t. “Clear!” Another shock, and then another and another. Soon he had to be pulled back by the nurses to stop with the paddles. “No, no no!” Law shouted as he looked down at them, the person he fell for. The nurses started to clear the room and soon Law was left alone with them.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” Law whispered out as he looked them over, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I love you…” He finally said through his tears. His hand went to their cold cheek and he gently caressed the smooth skin. The second his skin touched theirs for the first time, sparks shot through him. Under his fingers, their skin began to warm up and soon their heart began to beat once again. Law pulled back in shock as they seemingly come back to life.

“Y-you’re alive?” Law said in disbelief as he watched them gasp for air and cough.

“What happened...?” They asked, Law laughed and quickly moved to hug them close to his chest on the bed as tears continued to stream down his cheeks like a pitiful river.

“I thought I lost you,” Law said as he finally pulled back and gained his composure back. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” they tiredly teased.

“I don’t want to,” Law said after a minute, they both looked into each other’s eyes and felt the sparks once again.

“I don’t want to either,” They admitted as they leaned in and rested their forehead against Law’s. Law softly smiled and gently ran his fingers through their hair. Law looked into their eyes and slowly leaned in to kiss them. Their lips connecting together felt so natural and raw and law began to feel his heart speed up even after he had broken their kiss.

“I need to run some tests now,” Law said as he gently cupped their cheek in his hand and smiled. “I’ll be back soon, I need to tell the nurses,” He said as he pressed a small kiss on their temple and moved to get some more of the tests run.

“What do you mean they’re cured?” Nami asked in disbelief as she looked at their friend who was standing, walking and acting carefree.

“We don’t know how it happened, but they’re all better now,” One of the doctors said in some disbelief.

“All thanks to Law,” They chuckled as they moved to stand by Nami and smiled.

“Oh! Speaking of him, aren’t you going to grab him so he can come with us?” Nami asked while Luffy nodded his head.

“Yeah! I want Tra-guy to come with us,” Luffy pouted. They laughed at that and smiled, for the first time in weeks, months, they were feeling better. And this was a different kind of better, a cured sort of better. They went over to one of the nurses and smiled at them.

“Is Doctor Law here?” They asked, the nurse looked at them with a bit of an uneasy expression on their face.

“Him? Oh, he left early this morning, I think he has to return back to his other hospital,” the nurse explained. They stood there with a shocked and hurt look on their face. He left? Why did he leave? Why would he want to leave? They silently nodded their head and moved to go back to their friends, but they did their best to smile. Did Law lie to them? Was he just messing with them this entire time?

“He left, but it’s ok. I think it’s time for us to leave too,” They said as they started to lead the way out of the hospital. The group of friends all looked at one another with an unsure look on their face, but they knew better than to question them about it. When they went outside, Franky stood by their nice van with a big smile on his face.

“All ready to hit the road again?” Franky asked, the group all did their best to smile with him. The group of friends looked at their now healed friend and watched as they did their best to smile/

“Yes, I think — “ They were cut off when a tan, warm hand was placed on their shoulder.

“You going to leave without me?” Law whispered to them. They quickly turned over their shoulder and looked at him in shock.

“Law! You’re here! I thought you left,” They said as he pulled Law into a heartfelt hug. Law awkwardly smiled and rubbed their back before he pulled away and gently ruffled their hair.

“I did leave, I left the hospital, I’m taking a small break for now, I need to make sure that you’re doing alright and that nothing will happen to you,” Law explained as a small blush appeared on his cheeks. He moved to used his fuzzy hat to try and hide it, but they stopped him by placing a hand on his cheek. They smiled and gently moved to press a small kiss on his cheek that left the man breathless.

“Come with us, Law,” They said before they looked back at the rest of the group, everyone behind them smiled and seemed to be on board with this idea. Law looked at them all and watched as they all came forward and tried to bring him in closer.

“Yes! A new friend!” Luffy cheered.

“Welcome to our team, Tra-guy,” Sanji smiled as he stubbed out his cigarette on the concrete. They held onto both of Law’s hands and squeezed them with this new found confidence and strength. It was all thanks to Law, they both looked into each other’s eyes and smiled at one another and knew this was the beginning of something special, a new life together. Not only that, but their crew as well, them being so accepting and warm to him made his heart clench in an amazing way, he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe he could be this happy.

“Thanks,” Law smiled as he squeezed their hand, he could get used to these guys. Anything for them.

[damonsvftie]

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬*

MASTERLIST

Summary: Since your return, you land yourself into a gig to go and perform at the Masquerade Ball the Malfoy’s are hosting. Things take a turn when you by accidentally turn on their son.

Warning: THE MOST UNHOLY THING IVE WRITTEN. SO MUCH SMUT. SWEARING INVOLVED AS WELL

Note: 2.2k words

Tonight’s gig was going to be particularly special since the song I was going to perform was a way for me to vent and release all the emotions that were building up inside me. Over the course of the past few months, I had completely lost motivation in writing and singing songs. I quit performing at shows. I disappeared completely. I was becoming tired due to always being fully booked for a gig and it was almost taking over my life. But tonight was my comeback.

When everyone had learnt I was finally returning back to business, a flood of requests for me to perform had come in and stakes in price were way above and beyond the type of money I’d ever had imagined. I mean.. how could a few performances hurt right? I mean if I were receiving 150 galleons per show then what was the harm?

However today I had to look representable. I had to look like I had a passion for music and prove to everyone that I was serious about it. Since the Malfoy’s were coming, I could easily earn way more money if they spread my name around and obviously anything they said would rapidly spread around like wild fire.

But I had one concern. Me and Draco Malfoy use to go to Hogwarts together and he completely had a distaste for me. Not that I cared about his opinion on me but if he loathed me then, then he probably still hated me now. His view on me could either break or make my career, but knowing him he probably would be very judgmental towards me.

“Psst.. y/n! The Malfoy’s are here,” gasped the bartender under her breathe. “Your performance will start in five,” a look of fear smearing over her face.

Draco Malfoy entered the substantial doors of the Leaky Cauldron as he followed behind his mother and father. He was dressed purely in a black tuxedo and his family ring wrapped around his finger as an extra touch. His hair wavy just like on the day of the Great War, when we all parted our separate ways.

I could feel the sweat starting to form from under my outfit and my face flushed as my eyes trailed his figure. Noticing that I was staring at him, he looked back at me coldly before turning back to face the owner of the place as he shook their hand, greeting them.

Everyone took their place at a table and looked up at the stage. The room was crowded with witches and wizards chattering until the lights went out.

I sucked in a sharp breathe before placing my hand on the stand. The back up drummers and pianists began the intro of the song as I shut my eyes closing tightly before the podium lights turned back on.

The spotlight was on me and I could feel a hundred pair of eyes gazing up at me as I started to sing. I couldn’t help but stare at Draco’s alluring face as my voice did runs and other imaginable things. My fingertips gliding across the stand as I moved my body to the rhythm. His eyes were on me as he gripped onto a glass full of wine, taking a swig of it as he leaned back into his chair.

The last part of the song that I was originally going to leave out was added in last minute. Closing the end of my performance at once, I risked hitting a whistle tone while my hands hovered against the microphone, earning cheers from the crowd as I bopped my head on the last note.

The crowd erupted into whistles and clapped for me, including the Malfoy’s, who surprisingly stood up and showed their appreciation. Draco on the other hand, still sat in his seat before getting up and pulling his father to the side.

He whispered something in his ear, my gaze darting to the two of them as I could feel my eyes becoming glossy. I just knew it. I just knew Malfoy would blow this one shot I had at proving myself.

When everyone exited the building, the Malfoy’s stayed behind as me and the band were packing our stuff up. “Y/l/n.. the Malfoy’s want to talk to you,” informed the bartender as she patted my arm before heading back to clean up the counters.

Slipping on my cloak, I walked my way to the three of them, my head hung in disappointment because I knew I had failed them. “Miss.y/l/n .. we’re hosting a masquerade ball... and we were wondering if you were willing to perform,” his mother explained as I looked up with astonishment. “Wait- really?” I exclaimed, my voice slightly high pitched at the amazing news. “We’ll take that as a yes, we’re looking forward to seeing you,” she nodded her head, before the three of them headed for the door. Draco stopped for a second turning his face around with a smirk plastered across his lips before leaving.

—

The night of the masquerade ball, I put on a black dress with a slit at the bottom, exposing my naked leg. I paired it with some black stilettos and styled my hair like Audrey Hepburn’s. To top it all of, I covered my head with a black netted veil, embedded with rhinestone.

I grabbed my black eye mask that had pearls underneath the slit for the eyes and it had a long black feather attached to its side. Putting it onto my face, I took a deep breathe before opening the red curtains to the stage.

Everyone was starting to make their way to the dance floor as I started to sing a more sensual song since the one I had sung at the Leaky cauldron didn’t really fit the theme. Lucius And Narcissa Malfoy, swayed to the song I was performing as they slow danced around the ball, her head placed into the crook of her husband’s neck. To my surprise, Draco Malfoy was leaning against the wall eyeing me as each single word came out of my mouth. I thought he probably would have brought a date with him but he didn’t.

Something about the song I was singing made me get into my feels. I bent down and ran my fingers up my exposed leg causing Draco to straighten up at the sudden action. Noticing the affect I had on him, I bit down onto my lower lip as my body swayed slowly to the beat. Deciding to be a tease, I trailed my hovering hand down my body as I threw my head back, getting into my feels.

Unfortunately for Draco, my uncalled for action, caused him to spill his wine all over the top of his tuxedo making him leave and clean up the stain.

I had just now finished the song and the tiny voice in my head told me to go and find Draco. I walked through the twisting and turning corridors until I saw a certain door slightly open. Peeking through the crack, i could see Malfoy tugging at his shirt and pulling it over his head.

What if someone saw me? I shouldn’t even be here. I took a step back when the floor underneath my heel creaked. “Who’s there?” He questioned as he walked up to the door. I covered my mouth and froze on the spot, my feet glued to the floor.

Swinging the door open, he glanced at me before putting up his cold demeanour once again. “You?” He sneered. Whatever he had said came through one of my ears and out the other as my eyes wandered down his body, lingering onto his abs.

Noticing that I was staring at him he fake coughed causing me to snap out of my filthy thoughts.”why are you here?” He mumbled frustratedly. Not knowing what to say I pursed my lips Into a line.

It suddenly hit me, Draco was the one who had told his father about me performing tonight so I decided to use that as an excuse. “I came here to ask why you wanted me to perform at the ball tonight? I mean .. why- why are you helping me?” I lied.

Of course I wasn’t here because of that but it was the only thing that could help me from getting myself out of a situation like this. “I.. uh- you got better at singing and I guess your voice is somewhat good,” he gulped, the silence between the two of us causing tingles to run down my spine.

“Are you sure that’s the only thing you liked?” I blurted randomly, causing my eyes to grow wide when I had realised what I meant.

Suddenly,I pulled him in, my lips on his as I deepened the kiss by pulling on the roots of his hair as his hand shut and locked the door behind me. Getting closer to his bed, he tugged at the zip on the back of my dress, making it looser and looser.

I wriggled out of it as the dress slipped down to my feet. His hand made its way into my hair, slowly undoing my loose bun, letting my locks fall down. Lightly pushing me onto the mattress , I laid bare as I propped myself up with my hands. I went down to take my stiletto’s off when he stopped me from doing so. “Leave them on,” he demanded as he crawled on top of me, dipping low to kiss me once again.

His hand trailed the side of thigh making me flinch. He wasted no time in attacking my neck with kisses, making me giggle since I was ticklish. His mouth glided down the valley of my breasts to the place where I needed him the most.

His head buried between my thighs as I could feel the cold sensation of his tongue running down my slit causing me to throw my head back in euphoria. The way his tongue skilfully teased my clit, drawing figure 8’s onto it, sending me over the edge until I came trickling down made me want to scream at the top of my lungs. He didn’t hesitate in pushing in two figures into my core as he finger fucked me, causing my eyes to roll at the back of my head.

He switched between slow and sensual to fast and rough, his fingers gliding in and out of my pussy while his tongue worked magic on my clit causing me to slip the loudest moan out of my mouth. He stopped. “Why- why- did you stop?” I huffed.”that’s what you get for being too loud,” he answered, his lips curving into a smirk.

He wasted no time in removing his trousers as the head of his cock hit his stomach. He looped my thighs with his hand, and bought me closer to the edge of the bed. Lining up with my entrance, his dick easily slid into my soaking wet core. His thrusts began of slow as my fingers trailed down to toy with my clit in the process. He started speeding up, his thrusts becoming more rapid as my vision went blurry. Gripping onto his satin bedsheets, he pushed into me one last time before stopping, his cock still buried deep into my core as I grinded a little. “Draco- please don’t stop now,” I whimpered under him. “Why? You think it’s okay to tease me out there when your performing? You think it’s okay to turn me on like that?” The words coming out through his gritted teeth as he tried to resist the desire of pounding into me. “Fuck it,” he cursed under his breathe before pounding into me, fucking my brains out senseless as sweat trickled down the side of his head. “I’m close!” I screamed as I shut my eyes tighter than ever. “LOOK AT ME!” He demanded, almost forcing me to keep the sexual eye contact. One last thrust into my pulsing pussy, caused my back to arch until he loaded himself inside of me.

Slowly withdrawing himself out of me, he knelt back down, his eyes levelled with my core as he watched me ooze out. He went back in one last time cleaning me up with his tongue, giving me overstimulation as my legs quivered. “Malfoy- I cant-,” the feeling almost turning into pain. Giggling to himself, he helped me up as he threw me my clothes.” Get dressed,” he insisted as he himself got dressed too.

Just before leaving his bedroom to go back downstairs, he turned to me once more. “We’ll discuss your next gig soon,” his lips curving into a smirk as he vanished out of the door.

[kangaroo-sniper-imagine]

Unintimidating reader who’s a killa killa

-snipers is longer solely because ive had that idea in my head LONG before i got this request-

-also, little gorey so beware-

Medic

Ludwig is almost instantly enamoured with you once he got comfortable with you on base. He finds you sweet and calls you “kleine krankenschwester” (little nurse) whenever you insist on helping him in any way with his workload. You apologize when you bump into inanimate objects and try copying Archimedes’ cooing. You’re a cupcake!

And finally he gets a good eyeful of you on the field. You’re brutal and vicious and smiling the whole time as you bash in an enemy Heavy’s head with a sledgehammer. You take out an enemy Scout’s leg with your weapon and let him try and crawl away from you before you finish him off with a laugh. Ludwig is now convinced you’re his soulmate

Our dear doctor loves tenderness that hides ruthlessness. Loves that you are sweet as a bumble bee to your team but a beast to your opposers. He’s excited at the new possibilities between the two of you know that he knows that he no longer has to hide his own ferocity with his experiments in front of you

Sniper

Hell, Mick isn’t even convinced you should be on the field. You wore brightly colored clothes and skirts and for fuck’s sake you bake, all. The. time. You're like Holly Homemaker, why the hell are you hanging with a bunch of mercenaries? How were you even picked for this job? At your first match, he debated on whether he should watch you from his perch to protect you or do his job. He chose his job, duh. But only for a few matches. When he finally decides to track you,and oooooh boy.

An enemy Spy has his knife in your shoulder, pining you to a wall. Mick doesn’t have a clear shot to take out the spook without getting you too. It’s not fun watching a teammate die, even if they do come back. But right as he was about to shift his attention to the main battle he sees it. You. Pissed the fuck off.

Mick watches with interest as you grab the hand that’s stabbing you with one of your delicate hands as the other grabs the spook’s lapel and drag in the enemy, mouths crushing together. A shot of betrayal and shock freezes the hitman before he sees it. The red running down your chin; the struggle of the enemy Spy trying to thrash himself away from you; the look of manic rage in your eye. When you let the Spy go, Mick can see teeth but no lip and it hits him. You bit off the man’s mouth.

After you swiftly wretch the knife out of your shoulder and into the neck of your opponent, you wipe your mouth, you call for a medic and return to fighting. Mick is now a little scared of you, but now will no longer ever think again that you can’t handle yourself on the field. Never brings up what he saw but will sometimes watch you work now

Heavy

Mikhail already finds hardly anyone intimidating, you are no exception; especially with your short stature and demure demeanor. He worries about you honestly, watching you to make sure none of the other mercs try to take advantage of you because you give off the energy of a doormat. It’s his big brother senses in part, he thinks, also in part of because he has a leetle crush on tiny woman who will listen to him drone on about Sasha and Russian literature well into the night.

You do more protecting than defending during the fighting. You watch the case and keep people away from it as Misha mows down the enemies to keep them away from the intel (and you), so he hasn't had the pleasure of watching you work. But buddy, when he gets it. A chance of happenstance allows Heavy to finally see you operate, lets him see you sit pretty as the enemy steps on your hidden bombs and walk into the line of your automatic tracking weaponry and get mowed down in a hail of bullets as all you do is smile and hold the briefcase. So well covered by your own inventions you don’t even need to be worried as the blood of your enemy splashes up onto your clothes

Misha finds you even MORE endearing now. Man loves intelligent women and if you made all of those killing machines holy fuck, could you mod Sasha?? You’re in your element as you effortlessly kill the opponent, and Misha loves watching your inventions do what they do best (he feels a kinship with your weapons as he too, preforms extreme violence to protect you) (He’s still gonna watch your back at the base tho for sure)

Scout

You were like another Spy, except without all the European flair that Spy had. You were kinda bland, tired looking. Jeremy’s never seen you train or fight; you spent most of all your free time being “tutored” by Spy to become a better Infiltrator, and frankly, Jeremy is more afraid of bread than he is of you (and not just the tumor filled bread). Spy hasd insinuated that you were ready to finally be put on the field with the rest of the mercs for the next match, and now Jeremy is more excited to have another person to show off to rather than to see you in action

But of course, Jeremy fucks up. He’s hiding in an empty building, bleeding from a shot from an enemy Sniper, and staring at the wrong end of a Heavy’s gun, hating the feeling of defeat. The Heavy was rambling on about something but the wound in his side had more of Scout’s attention; that is, until, a figure slowly, silently descended from the rafters. It was you, dressed head to toe in black save for a sliver of your team’s color on your armband. You look at the monologuing Heavy before giving Jeremy a look that said “Man, he’s a wind bag, huh?” you gestured to the enemy, then drew your finger across your throat with a questioning look in your eye. Scout manages a weak nod, losing focus quickly.

Another long cord, similar to the one holding you to the ceiling, unraveled itself from around your arm, and very quickly you whipped it around the enemy’s neck, jumped onto his back, and wretched your arms back, almost instantly decapitating the Heavy. Even as the lumbering body fell down, you remained upright, hopping off the body gracefully. With swift efficiency, you kicked the head out of the way, grabbed the comically large gun, and aimed it at the door. Before Scour could even ask what the fuck was going on, an enemy Medic came in through the door. Before the German had a chance to yelp, you shot him dead.

“Yo, what the-!” You hastily toss a med-pack at him before melting into the shadow, Scout almost missing the darkening blush on your mostly covered face. After that little save, Jeremy now goes out of his way to be nice to you, and learns a lesson that looks are hella deceiving. It would pay to have someone watching his back on the field without all the unwanted french commentary (and you’re nicer to look at than Spy, let's be real)

Demo

You’re cheerful, but not in the sadistic, almost taunting way many of the other mercs are like. Not like the Doc or Spook. Nope, you were just happy. Not ditzy or stupid or anything, just a smiley little thing that had as much bite as a toothless alligator. The thought that someone could take you as a serious threat, some wee thing that eats rainbow colored cereal and wears bunny slippers throughout the base, was so hilarious that Tavish starts chuckling whenever it crosses his mind. The two of you don’t typically fight together, you sticking to high ground to pick off enemies as Demo gleefully stays in the thick of it all to implode the other team

Due to unfortunate circumstances, you're both pinned down together, shoulder to shoulder under a makeshift barrier as the enemy gets closer and closer; your bow at the ready with an arrow and his bombs prepared to go off at his command, but no opening to go up and take a shot/throw a bomb. You huff, looking around wildly before nodding decisively, looking to Tavish. “Gimme one of your sticky bombs.” He complies, half thinking that you’re gonna take the both of you out in a blaze of gory glory.

With a look of determination, you aim in front of you, not even at the enemy. Tavish prepares to die for the third time that day, but this time by his own creation, and you release your arrow. The projectile bounces off a scrap bit of metal on the ground, ricocheting the arrow up into hitting the lamppost, and then flying over their heads into the enemy’s ranks. Once the bomb went off, you instantaneously bounce out of the hiding place and opened fire on the stragglers who didn't get offed by the bomb. Tavish can only stare as you mow down the other team as a random stream of sunlight illuminates your figure. Demo catches feels in that moment

Pyro

Pryo liked that you were lowkey and sweet. The fact that you weren’t especially harsh or violent while relaxing initially made them flock to you just to hang out in their down time. Pyro loves to give you cute little toys and stuffies and see you smile! The only time Pyro really sees you on the battlefield is when they’re looking for you. They’re worried about you! You’re their favorite!

They catch you, mid-battle, covered head to toe in the blood of an enemy Scout, laying only a few feet away. They think you look so pretty! Like sparkles and rainbows are all around you and flower petals are floating in the air and surrounding you (it’s ash; pyro started a blaze not that far away and it was finally beginning to get to the two of you)

Pyro just sees this as more couple binding time, now that they know that you also tend to get a little too into the battle. It’s an excuse to spend even more time together

Engineer

This boy was so dang in love with you and he’s never even seen you fight. On the base, you were as sweet as a peach and harmless as a mouse. You spent most of your time in Dell’s workshop helping him with menial tasks like refilling his coffee mug or reorganizing his tools or alike. You got along well with all the other mercs and were quick to help others. Dell never really saw you while fighting because he had to stick near his machines while your job took you all over the battle field

He hears about you fighting from the others. Scout was retelling the group about you “friggin’ awesome fight” between you and an enemy Medic. You had, according to Scout (and Heavy, who nodded along in agreement) got into a fist fight with the enemy, physically beating them into submission. Dell wouldn’t believe it if you hadn’t walked right at the end of the tale with a black eye, bloodied knuckles, and a lopsided grin. Dell almost has a fucking heart attack seeing you in such a state. The Doctor heals you up back to normal like nothing ever happened but the fact that you relied on physical violence to fight made him anxious

He doesn't talk to you about fighting differently, he wants to know if there's anything he can do to help you fight, like making special gloves or armor of some type. Homeboy just wants to protect you, he gets hella worried.

Soldier

Jane, seemingly perpetually stuck in the 40’s and 50’s, believes most women shouldn't be on the battlefield at all. And even though you were there working with a bunch of other mercenaries, a lady is a lady and he, the old fashioned man he is, prioritizes keeping you “safe” (taking your kills before you get the chance to land the finishing blows). In his mind, he’s doing you a service. After all, you are far too soft spoken at the base to have any form of bite in you on the field.

Across the field though, one fight, Jane was just too far away to swoop in and “save” you like he normally would; not even his rocket launcher would get to you in time to stop the Spy from doing you in! The instant the enemy’s knife was about to pierce your back, though, Jane saw you turn around whip fast, your own machete thrusting forward to impale the enemy.

The soldier now thinks that your “womanly intuition” is far more superior and more finely tuned than his own, and will now generally leave you alone to fight and stops hovering over you. Will shout out encouragements from across the field whenever he sees that you hack someone apart and loudly brags that you have the “natural advantage” to sniffing out enemies.

Spy

-This is gonna be a drabble cus i dunno how to bullet point this-

Jacque didn’t think particularly much of you. You were a teammate, an asset to be used. On the base you were reserved, spending most of your time in the Doctor’s infirmary or discussing something with Mikhail about books or whatever. You stayed out of his way, not like it was hard for you, seeing as you were just some wisp of a thing, someone who if they sat still long enough would blend into the background like air. Spy never assumed that you would ever be of any use to him in a fight; you just didn’t have the look of a fighter in you.

So right now, his life being in your hands, made him uncomfortable in ways he couldn’t care to count.

The enemy Spy, who was almost as tricky as him, cleverly disguised himself as Jacque, and right as they were about to confront each other, you burst through the door, looking surprised at the two of them. Almost immediately, they started to accuse the other.

“He’s the enemy!”

“No, HE is!”

“The intruder is HIM!”

Jacque will give you some props, seeing as you drew your gun as soon as you saw the pair, but rather than aim it usefully at at least ONE of them, YOU aim it uselessly to the floor! Jacque would’ve scolded you for your unprofessionalism if the imminent threat of death wasn’t less than six feet away from him.

You looked wildly in between the two of them, your normally pleasant face now stricken with panic. Your eyes land solidly on the enemy Spy, and with a sharp intake of breath, you run to him, throwing your arms around him and burying your face into the falsely colored lapel.

Jacque felt disappointment bloom in his chest, along with dread when he watched your mistake.

The spy looked so damn smug as he wrapped his arms around you, throwing Jacque a satisfied look. The gun still was gripped in your hand, still aiming at the ground.

“Ma pauvre petite fille,” he crooned, “est-ce que le grand méchant espion t'a fait peur?”

You sniffle, and bring the gun up to the imposter’s head. “Je n'ai pas facilement peur.” Jacque didn’t think you could ever say something so coldly, and say it in french to boot. One shot rang out and the man in your arms fell to the floor, suit changing back to what it was meant to be, stained with red from the blood of his fatal wound.

After some deliberation with yourself, you shot him again, in the chest. You looked to Jacque, your face now once again passive.

With a sigh and a dramatic flourish, the living Spy fetched a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it quickly, taking a deep huff before addressing you.

“How did you know that he was not me?”

You holster your weapon back, mulling over your answer. “Few things, uh… you never speak French to me,” you stuck out one finger, “you wouldn’t ever hug me,” another finger, “you don’t stand with your feet that far apart,” one more, “and you smell completely different.” with all but your thumb sticking out, you nodded to yourself before jamming both hands into your pants pockets, tucking in your chin and turning heel back to the door, seemingly finished with your explanation and conversation.

Amused, Jacque took another slow drag of his cigarette, planning on paying more attention to you in the future, being sure never to underestimate you again.

-this, uuuuuhhh, took on a life of its own-

[wavesmp3]

idk if you're still doing the title thingie but if you are maybe changmin with drunk on you 👀

drunk on you | changmin x reader | (disclaimer: the formatting of this story is something ive read before but I can’t remember where I’ve seen it)

vodka.

it begins when your teenagers. not actually, but it’s the first time you and changmin really hang out and talk apart from the past two years of shared classes and curt greetings. a party, you tell your friends when they ask where the hell you and ji changmin became friends the following monday, we shared a vodka shot. you don’t think to mention the way you both spit out the clear liquid immediately after.

jello shots.

university is underwhelming for the most part, a blur of all nighters and drinking too much caffeine before every exam. but at least you’ve had changmin by your side the entire time. you hadn’t arrived at university expecting to grow so close to him, but it seems fate had different plans. from evening strolls exploring campus freshman year to preparing jello shots in kevin’s apartment two nights before graduation. “one for the road.” you say, handing him a shot and holding one of your own, a sort of homage to all the shots you’ve taken together throughout the years. taking the shot from your hand, he jokingly warns you not to end the night in your own puke. you gasp, shoving his arm, “hey, that only happened once.”

his eyes widen dramatically at that, pupils darting around the room as if waiting for someone else to come to his defense. it’s just you two. bringing the plastic shot up to his lips he mutters, “it happened on your birthday every year but yeah, okay, sure.”

tequila.

going out tonight was meant to be something fun. after having a particularly rough week at work, you and changmin both decide a night out is what you need. but there’s something inexplicably off about the chill running down your spine and the tingling in your fingers. there’s something not right about how cold you get waiting outside for a car despite the number of tequila shots you took.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you shake your head at his question, hoping the lie becomes the truth, “just cold.”

clicking his tongue, he pulls his coat off and dumps it on your shoulders, muttering, “i told you to dress warmer.”

and with the warmth of his jacket draped over your shoulders, you seem to forget that anything was ever wrong to begin with.

beer. 

“i told you a scary movie was a bad idea,” you complain, sinking further into changmin’s sofa as if it’ll get you farther away from the tv screen. the original plan wasn’t to watch a horror movie tonight, but when changmin realized the two of you have never watched one together, he insisted on it.

he turns away from the screen to look at you, bursting into laughter at the blanket you have pulled up to your chin. all you’re able to do is mumble a small shut up.

“i didn’t know you’d get this scared, but here,” he says, reaching over to take your hand in his, “just squeeze when you get scared. it’ll be fine. i promise.”

and in his defense, the tactic is effective because the moment he holds your hand, the movie is all but forgotten.

this shouldn’t feel so weird, you think watching the way he runs a finger over your knuckles. you’ve held changmin’s hand before. but then what is it about right now that ignites a flame in your chest and a fluttering in your stomach and—oh

you like him.

gin and tonic. 

things get sorta weird after that.

hanging out with changmin becomes near impossible. because bluntly, you aren’t sure you can handle the way you feel like your heart will implode everytime he looks at you and makes you laugh. you start avoiding him, pulling out lame excuses with each text you get from him asking to hang out. it feels odd to not see changmin as often as you used to, wrong even. but there’s something more profoundly wrong and off about the way you’re up at night thinking about him that makes you say no when he calls asking if you want to go out for drinks that friday.

“you’re never free anymore,” he whines when you reject the plans, claiming to have to work late that day. you don’t respond to that, unable to make yourself lie to him again. he only sighs, a tired and frustrated sound, then murmurs, “i miss you.”

you hang up soon after that.

wine. 

“let’s play truth or dare,” someone suggests at a gathering of old university friends. an entirely out of place suggestion when compared to the fancy cheese and expensive wine that kevin prepared for tonight. 

(“what is this?” you had asked upon arrival, snickering at the display. kevin only waves you off beginning to name the different types of cheese. and when changmin arrives, five minutes after you and already laughing at the quiet jazz playing in the background, kevin gives you both a tired look and walks away, muttering something about adulthood.)

surprisingly, kevin is the first to agree. 

and as you go around the circle, tipsily giggling when chanhee admits to being the one who broke kevin’s blender during junior year, you catch yourself thinking back on those days. it’s almost funny how simple things used to be back then and how complicated things have become now. watching changmin laugh at chanhee’s admission, you long for the days before you realized you were in love him. 

“okay, changmin truth or dare?” chanhee asks.

“truth.”

“have you ever had a crush on anyone here?”

the question sends a few ‘oohs’ traveling through the air and your gut straight to your throat. you can’t bring yourself to look up from your wine glass.

“yeah.” changmin admits, clearing his throat. the whole room erupts.

“who?”

“that’s too much.”

“it’s no fun if you don’t say who.”

“i- well,” he hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. and it’s in his small moment of hesitation that the room goes quiet. you look up, for the first time since the question’s been asked, and find changmin staring at you. it takes another second for you to realize that the entire circle is staring too.

“me?” you breathe, tapping your own chest in disbelief.

“yeah,” he laughs, covering his face with his hands, “back in college.”

the game continues and everyone, including changmin, seems to move on. you, on the other hand, spend the rest of the night thinking that perhaps college wasn’t as simple as you remember it being.

—

“i had no idea, you know,” you start, walking down the sidewalk with changmin who had insisted on taking you back home arguing that it was on his way anyways, “that you liked me in university.”

he chuckles shyly, “i sorta thought everyone knew.” you shake your head no. after some time, he says, “actually, if i’m being honest, i liked you before then too.”

“as in what?” you breathe, hoping your voice doesn’t give away how nervous you feel at the suggestion. “like high school?”

“yeah,” he shrugs in a nonchalant way that doesn’t at all match the erratic beating of your heart, “i probabaly started liking you the first time we met.”

you stop walking entirely, a sudden burst of fearlessness throwing the question “when did you stop?” out of your mouth before you can even think to hold it in.

he doesn’t answer immediately, visibly gulps, before whispering a ‘huh.’ the single word so quiet you would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been listening so intently for it. stepping closer, you repeat, “you started liking me back in high school, so when did you stop?”

and maybe it’s the faint smell of wine that’s hanging off your tongue or the sirens going off in the distance. or perhaps it has something to do with the flips your stomach is doing when changmin fails to answer again. but something about the night air and the numbness in your fingers, gives you just enough courage to make you step closer, lean towards the boy you’ve known forever, and ask, “did you?”

and for the third time that night, he doesn’t say anything back. instead he stands still, gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips like he can’t decide where exactly to focus.

“truth or dare?” he finally asks, so close you can feel the exhale of words before you really hear them.

“truth.”

he smiles at that. a small one that makes you feel as if it’s only meant for you. “do you like me too?”

this time, it’s you who doesn’t answer. choosing to close the distance and kiss changmin instead. and it’s almost cheesy how right it feels when his palm comes up to cup your cheek and how incredibly weak you get in the knees when he does. this is it, you think fisting his shirt in an attempt to pull him closer, this is where i’m supposed to be.

“so,” he begins, pulling away, “is that a yes?”

smiling, you mumble, “what do you think?”

[dcforts]

[monday 4: bet]

ao3

Four times Eileen thought Dean and Castiel were more than friends and one time Sam (finally) saw it too.

i.

Eileen likes the bunker. As a hunter you learn to be grateful and appreciative of things that others give for granted. Like waking up feeling safe, knowing that nothing can jump right through your window and attack you. Like pressing your cheek on a soft pillow without having to worry about bed bugs and filth. Like opening your bedroom door and smelling coffee.

She smiles and follows it right to the kitchen.

She doesn’t expect to find Castiel standing next to the coffee machine. He is in his usual attire, looking exactly as the last time she’s seen him. He looks up as soon as she enters and smiles politely at her. “Good morning” he says, “Would you like some coffee?”.

She smiles back, nods and waits for him to fill her a mug. 

Then she sits at the table and watches as Dean appears on the door, his eyes sleepy, his hair messy, the belt of his robe loosely tied. He waves lazily in her direction then goes straight towards Castiel, holding out a hand to grab the mug that he was already offering him. No words between them, just soft smiles, as if it’s a thing they do every day. She has not been around the Winchesters that much but she is fairly sure she’s never seen a more content expression on Dean’s face.

He sits down next to her and closes his eyes, lost in the smell of the coffee.

“Good morning to me” she reads on his lips, with his eyes still closed, as if he’s talking to himself.

*

 So, you know, Eileen is a very good observer. It’s a crucial skill for a hunter, especially someone who hunts alone and has no extra pair of eyes to rely on.

Later that day, Eileen and Sam are pressed against each other on a couch, both ignoring how “sharing a laptop” is a such a lame excuse for two adults to sit closely together. But whatever. Sam is showing her a restricted online archive about lore in European historical findings that he was able to crack into when she catches Dean passing by the door and she remembers about that morning.

“Sam,” she interrupts whatever he was saying on some magical old stones. “can I ask you a question?”

He nods. “Sure.”

“Castiel and your brother,” she signs, hoping that that’s enough input for Sam.  Clearly it isn’t, because he keeps looking as if he’s expecting her to go on. “Are they… together?”

He frowns and ask: “Together? As in…?”

In response she signs: “Love.”

Sam has the funniest reaction. His face goes blank and he starts staring into the distance as if he’s processing a word he is not used to hear. He snaps out of it right when Eileen is wondering if she should wave a hand in front of his face. “No,” he says, “it’s not like that.”

She gives him a look as if to say “Please”.

“Really, they – they are like brothers.”

Eileen makes a disgusted face and signs: “Brothers?”

He makes an annoyed face back. “Yes. It’s not like that,” he repeats.

“They act like a couple,” she signs.

He shakes his head. “You are wrong.”

“It looks like there’s something more between them,” she insists in the face of his blunt denial. “Wanna bet?” she signs raising her eyebrows.

Sam frowns and signs: “I’m not betting on my brother.”

“Come on.” she says, then signs “If I win, I want you to cook for me.”

Sam laughs. “I can just do it. No need for any of this.”

She shakes her head and smiles: “Don’t worry, you will. When I win.”

 *

 ii.

They’ve been working like crazy, taking all kinds of jobs up and down the state. It’s tiring but as a team of four they can get it down in a fraction of the time it would take if they were on their own. Plus, it’s definitely more fun even if it feels like they barely have the time to put down their bags before something else comes up and they’re out of the bunker again.

This time, it looks like a simple enough job that could take two days top. Sam is checking their supplies once again and Castiel is sitting at the map table flipping through a magazine when Dean finally appears in the room.

“Alright, let’s go” he says clapping his hands together.

Sam looks up and makes an horrified face: “Wait. Dean, what are you wearing?”

“What? Oh, yeah. It’s a cowboy shirt.”

“You can’t wear that. With that thing on your shoulders. We are not going trick or treating.”

“Hey! Don’t insult the shirt.”

Eileen laughs at the exchange so Sam addresses her. “Eileen, please tell him.”

She just shrugs amused and Sam looks betrayed so Dean keeps going: “It’s not my fault we’ve been out all week and I didtn’t have time to do my laundry. This is the only clean thing I have left.”

“Well, you can’t come dressed like that. Just take one of mine.”

“You have freakishly long arms, Sam, I’m gonna look like I’ve shrunked in my clothes.”

Eileen turns to Castiel who seems engrossed in his magazine that has titles on the cover of the kind “Top 10 poisonous plants you can find in the jungle” right next to “What colours should you paint your garden shed”. It looks like he is used to it and knows that staying away from their arguments is the safest strategy to survive with the Winchesters. She taps him on his shoulder. “What do you think?” she signs, interrupting Dean and Sam who are still going at it.

Castiel looks up but Dean cuts him off before he can open his mouth: “Why are you asking him for? He has never changed once in his life.”

Castiel shoots him an annoyed look but doesn’t respond to the provocation. “Did you check the laundry room?” he says calmly instead.

Sam glances over his shoulder to look at him.

Dean just stares, seemingly confused.

“You always forget your clean clothes in the laundry room. There should be a red one that you haven’t wore this week yet. I assume it’s still there.”

Dean thinks about it for a few seconds, then nods: “Yeah, you’re probably right. Be right back.”

Castiel sighs and goes back to his magazine without another word.

Sam’s gaze meets Eileen’s. She raises her eyebrows and signs “Cute”.

Sam mouths back. “It means nothing”.

She just laughs and takes the stairs.

 *

 iii.

It’s a rainy afternoon and they are keeping busy cleaning their weapons and filling shotgun shells of rock salt. At some point Sam looks up from where he is sitting right next to Eileen.

“Hey Cas,” he says “remember that book that you were reading last week about sigils? I wondered if I could borrow that. I wanted to scan it and send it around to other hunters.”

“Sounds like a good plan. I’ll give to you later.”

“Oh, no, there’s no rush if you are still reading it.”

“It’s not bother. I’m not reading tonight anyway. I’m watching a movie with Dean.”

Dean, on the other side of the table, lifts his gaze for a moment at the sound of his name then goes back to his gun.

“O-okay, thanks.” says Sam.

Eileen meets his gaze briefly and holds back a smile.

Only when they are left alone she nudges him with an elbow and Sam knows immediately what she is going to address.

He grumbles: “They watch movies together all the time, they are friends!”

Eileen shakes her head. “But why haven’t they invited us?” she signs, then answers her own question: “Date night.”

“No, you don’t understand. Dean has been showing him all the stuff he doesn’t know.”

“I understand very well that I won the bet” she says challenging him.

Sam sighs and signs. “There is no bet. And it’s not like that.”

 *

 iv.

They are on a hunt. Well, actually they are at some kind of fair. The spirit they are chasing has shown up in all the towns that the travelling fair has hit in the past few months, so the safest bet is that it’s somehow hunting the place.

For now, they are just walking around in the crowd, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. They have a duffel bag full of salt, shotguns and blades but from the outside they just look like four people that have come out to enjoy the fair on a fine evening.

Dean is in a very good mood. “I can’t believe they still do these things” was his comment on the way there and since they’ve arrived he has been complaining that he can’t stop at none of the games before the job is done. Eileen finds endearing the way he manages to protect that part of him that makes him excited for things like that even with the life he has. It’s not easy to reconcile the image of that man with sparkly eyes with the one she has seen swaying a machete a couple of days before.

“Hey!” he shouts at one point, jogging a few feet ahead of them and waving to get their attention. “Guys, look, it’s Cas!” He stops at one of the stands and grabs a tan teddy bear with a blue tie that is on display. Sam snorts and Dean keeps grinning like it’s the funniest thing ever and points at Castiel who has an expression on his face that seems to say Did we really stop for this? “It’s you!” Dean laughs again “I bet you didn’t know you had a twin, uh?”

“Alright, let’s go,” Sam tries to get them moving again and Dean jogs back up to them and falls in steps with Castiel.

Eileen looks his way in time to see him put his arm around Castiel’s shoulders and pull him close. His lips read: “What? It was adorable. Wanna win it for me later?”

She turns her face to look at Sam and finds him next to her.

“Adorable” she mouths at him. He rolls his eyes. “He just likes to joke”.

*

v.

It happens again and again. Eileen looks pointedly at Sam when Dean pops into the kitchen to say “Me and Cas are going out. Need anything?” or when they find them engaged in a serious conversation or sharing a drink. She looks at him whenever Dean calls Castiel “Sunshine” and whenever Castiel asks “Where’s Dean?” before he even gets both of his feet in the room.

Sam dismisses every moment, finds every excuse for them. They’ve always been like that. Can’t two friends do it? Does it have to mean something? It’s just the way they are.

Now, Sam is in a sticky diner with his brother who is across from him and can’t seem to sit still. A couple of days before they got two calls in a matter of hours and they’ve gone north while Eileen has gone south. Coincidentally Cas has been contacted about a lead on God’s position so he’s gone too.

So it’s just the two of them again and Dean is tapping on the screen of his phone every two seconds as if he doesn’t trust that it will let him know if he has a new notification.

“Dude, what’s up with you?” snaps Sam when he can’t take anymore of his fidgeting.

“Cas.” he grumbles. “I texted him last night and I got no word back yet. We said we would check in with each other every night, so...” he frowns.

“I’m sure he is fine” Sam says, before thanking the waiter that brings them their food.

Setting down his plate his gaze falls on his own phone, and he is reminded of the last time he texted Eileen and she has taken a long time to reply. How he worried, how he needed to know she was fine. How he feels on his fingertips the need to type something to her right now. How he can’t wait to see her again.

He looks up at Dean who’s taking a bite of his burger.

“What?” he says with his mouth full in response to his staring,

Sam smiles a little. “Nothing.”

Dean takes another bite, still watching him so Sam sighs. “Dean,” he dares, “with Cas. I mean… is there…”

He gets interrupted by Dean’s phone lighting up with an incoming call. His brother drops his burger and picks it up without a care for his greasy hands.

“Finally.” He says, then presses it against his ear: “What did we say, uh? How many times I gotta tell you?” he barks in lieu of Hello.

Sam watches him while he listens to whatever Castiel is saying on the other end. He sees his forehead striped with worried lines relax by the second.

When Dean speaks again his voice is definitely softer. “You are an idiot, but alright. Yeah, we just got here,” the frown disappears and his voice goes quieter still, “Okay. Yeah, I’ll see you at home.” his eyes flicker to Sam and he clears his throat so when he speaks again his tone is back to normal. “Remind me to kick your ass for making me worry.”

Castiel says something back that Sam assumes sounds like You can try because Dean’s eyebrows rise comically. “What? You don’t think I can take you?” he says. “Yeah tough guy, anytime. Wanna bet?”

Sam tunes out. He touches his phone and opens up his conversation with Eileen. He types:

Alright, what do you want me to cook?

I am participating in the spnstayathomechallenge by @bend-me-shape-me @pray4jensen @helianthus21