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aemondfairy · 3 months

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Bad Idea, Right?

summary: A night of drinking with your friends lands you at your ex boyfriend’s apartment — which is ultimately a bad idea.

pairing: Modern!Aemond x Ex girlfriend!Reader

word count: 3k

warnings: Explicit smut, alcohol consumption, angst, brief mention of drug use, language, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, creampie, Aemond is a fuckboy. 18+ MDNI

note: idk how I feel about this but Modern!Aemond is my weakness, and the grwm of Ewan ruined my life. Feedback is appreciated! Feel free to send me requests!

If someone were to ask you your own personal example of girlhood your answer would be simple: getting ready for a night out with your girlfriends. While going out and partying with your friends was fun, you considered the act of getting ready together art in itself.

It was tradition, a ritual. Filled with laughter, inside jokes, excitement, and anticipation.

Glitter, hairspray, memories. It was your time to bond and let go of everyday stress.

And that’s where you found yourself right now: sat in front of your best friend’s vanity, large curlers in your hair. The sweet smell of vanilla coming from Rhaena’s birthday cake scented candle filling the room.

Six months had passed since your breakup with Aemond and the twins had declared that you had spent more than enough time moping. It was time to get you back out in the world.

“I’m so happy that us girls are going out tonight,” Baela said as she finished up applying her mascara.

You involuntarily scoffed at her comment.

“What?” She questioned, glaring at you.

“It’s not like it’s just us,” you say matter of factly.

“Oh, come on! You know Jace is basically one of us!”

She wasn’t wrong. If you had to pick a guy to be in your friend group, it would be Jace Velaryon. He was easy to talk to, kind, considerate. A breath of fresh air from what you were used to. You understood why Baela was into him. Plus, he donned a beautiful set of chocolate colored curls matched with an adorable, toothy, grin.

“Do not beat around the bush, Bae!” You admonished, “I know Cregan will be there too.”

Cregan Stark was Jace’s best friend. A rugged guy from the North. He had a thick beard and piercing gray-blue eyes. He had quiet confidence, basically a big teddy bear. There was no denying he was rather handsome. It’s not that you would be opposed to sleeping with him, per say, you just weren’t sure if you were ready yet; although Baela begged to differ.

Once the three of you were all ready to go and the Uber was on it’s way, Baela pulled you to the side.

“Look,” she began, holding each of your hands in hers, “I know you're nervous. You’ve been through a lot and it can be hard to put yourself back out there — but you deserve this. Aemond’s out living his life, you have to live yours! It’s going to be fine! You look incredible, we are going to have a great time.”

Baela, as usual, was right. You were enjoying yourself. You were now on your third drink, tapping your finger nails on the glass as you half heartedly listened to Cregan tell an embarrassing story about Jace from when the two of them were in high school when you felt your phone vibrate.

A text from an unknown number flashed against your screen, paying no mind to it you opened it immediately. Your stomach dropped.

Hey… it’s Aemond.

You swore that men had some kind of radar that would let them know when a woman was finally happy without them. When that radar went off, only then was it that they decided to try to contact you again. Not during the months where your heart was left in ruin, not when you would do anything for answers. Only once you were healing, on the brink of reaching that light at the end of the tunnel; they weaseled their way into your life once more to ruin everything — and Aemond was right on schedule.

It had been months since he last contacted you, you felt as though your stomach was gonna fall out, your nervous system in a frenzy.

You could not let him ruin your fun.

“Let’s take a shot of something,” you suggested.

And then your phone buzzed again.

I know it’s been awhile, but I wanted to see how you’re doing?

Been awhile? That’s the understatement of the year. He didn’t care how you were doing when he broke up with you over a text. He didn’t care when the rumor of him sleeping with a professor spread around campus, humiliating you.

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

Relief washed over you once you saw Baela return with 5 shots of Tequila in hand.

“Heard this makes your clothes come off,” she said as she handed you the shot glass, shooting a wink over to Cregan. You downed the shot quickly, ignoring her comment. The liquid burned down your throat as it settled into your stomach.

Slamming the shot glass onto the table, your head spun and you could’ve sworn you felt your phone vibrate again. You needed air.

“I’ll be right back, I need a cigarette.”

“I’ll come with you!” Rhaena chirped.

“No!” You shouted, almost too enthusiastically.

“No, that’s okay. I know you hate the smell of smoke, Rhae. I’ll just be a minute.”

With that, you frantically made your way to the patio of the bar. Just as you lit your cigarette a familiar voice called out to you.

“Ohhh shit! I knew that was you!”

Now you were sure that the universe was certainly conspiring against you. It was none other than Aegon Targaryen. Aemond’s drunken, perverted, older brother. Wonderful.

Turning on your heel abruptly and puffing smoke out of your nostrils you gave him a reluctant wave.

“Hi, Aeg.”

“How are you?” He asked, wrapping his arms tightly around you, “how have you been?”

Not sure if it was the liquid courage or the need for someone else to witness the audacity of your ex, but you just shoved your phone into his chest, eyes glued to him as he scrolled through the messages with his eyebrows raised.

“Damn, I never would have thought Aemond to be the type to beg!” he laughed as you shot him a look of disapproval.

“Listen,” he said before taking a long drag of his own cigarette, “Aemond means well. He was pretty shaken up after you guys broke up.”

Yeah, right. What was there for him to be shaken up about? He broke up with you.

“And if you ask me,” he continued through puffs of his cigarette, “you’re the best thing that ever happened to him.”

“Isn’t he seeing someone like, twice our age?”

“Not anymore.”

A pregnant pause filled the air between the two of you as he handed you your phone back.

The conversation was becoming awkward, so Aegon tried to comfort you the only way he knew how.

“I know you’re stressed and all… do you, uhhh, want a bump?”

His question took you by surprise.

“A bump? Um, I’m good, Aeg.. thanks.”

The blonde lifted his hands up in defeat.

“Good call, if you do go see Aemond, I doubt he would be happy about that.”

“I’m not going to see Aemond,” you answer flatly, hitting his arm lightly.

“Well, whatever or whoever you decide to do tonight I wish you luck!” he smirked, “but, I know our mom would be thrilled if you started to come around again.”

“She misses me?” you blurted out, the desperation clear in your voice.

“Yeah,” Aegon shrugged, “we all do.” He smiled as his large palm patted against your back before he made his way back inside the bar.

You stood in silence as you finished your cigarette, unsure of what to do when you received yet another text from Aemond. You responded with the first thing that came to your mind.

Have you been drinking?

No. Come over. I want to see you.

Your phone buzzed again, but this time it was a picture. A photo of his cat Vhagar. The elderly feline was sprawled out across his leather couch, the caption reading: “she misses you too.”

She did not. She only ever liked Aemond.

Well, I’ve been drinking so… can’t drive.

Where are you? I’ll come get you.

No. He couldn’t. You couldn’t risk Baela seeing, she would kill you.

Nah. That’s okay.

God, this conversation was going nowhere. Why were you entertaining him anyway?

Let me get you an Uber.

Buzz.

Please.

Gods, he was pushy.

Fine 🫠

Once you found yourself back inside the bar, you decided to use that last shot of tequila as your reason to leave. You had said something along the lines of the mixture of liquors wasn’t agreeing with you and that you were gonna head out. The girls were disappointed, but they understood. Baela’s only condition is that you were sure to text her once you were home safe. You bid Jace and Cregan goodbye, and even agreed to go out for drinks with them again in the upcoming week.

As you sat in the backseat of the Uber, your palms filled with sweat and your heart raced as you made your way to the other side of the city to Aemond’s new apartment. You couldn’t help but feel nervous, wondering how he might react and if this was the right decision. Your mind raced with thoughts and emotions, but you tried to stay composed as you you pulled up to the building.

Aemond was waiting outside the apartment complex for you. His expression was unreadable as he puffed on the last few drags of a cigarette, quickly flicking it to the ground and stomping it out so he could make his way over to you.

“Hey,” he greeted, offering a shy smile before extending his arms out to hug you. “I’m glad you decided to come.”

His scent alone was intoxicating. A mixture of nicotine, spearmint toothpaste and musky cologne. Being in his embrace again had your head spinning, you felt as if your heart was going to beat out of your chest. It was almost as if the two of you never parted ways, like he never left. Damn him, you thought to yourself .

“Well, this is my new place,” he said as he opened the door to the lavish apartment. It was absolutely was stunning. Beautiful, mahogany cabinets and stainless steel appliances. The living room was spacious with high ceilings and a giant window that had an incredible view of the city. It was very Aemond-esque. It felt familiar, safe.

You spotted Vhagar on the dark green velvet couch in the center of the room.

You watched carefully as one of her eyes opened, she rose from her spot almost instantly once she spotted you. Making a beeline to Aemond’s bedroom.

“I thought you said she missed me?” you asked playfully.

"I may have lied," Aemond replied, giving you a shy smile.

An hour had gone by and you had spent the majority of it arguing with Aemond about your past. You listened to him attempt to apologize, explaining that it wasn’t you, it was him. He made a mistake, he’s changed. You weren’t having it, and yet, in the midst of it all, you had found yourself sitting so close to him you were almost on top of him. Mid sentence he had crashed his lips against yours. A rude interruption, for sure — but now, all bets were off.

The kiss was rough and intoxicating, a clash of teeth and tongue. He grazed your bottom lip with his teeth before sucking it into his mouth. Your head spun.

"More," you whispered against his lips, "I need more of you."

Aemond took no time to pick you up and carry you to his bedroom, as he placed you down on his bed gently. You feel his hands tearing off your clothes, striping you down to your underwear. Your heart raced with anticipation and desire. The intensity of his touch sent shivers down your spine. He lowered himself on top of you, reaching his arm up over his shoulder to remove his own shirt.

As he leant back down over you, his tongue trailed from your chin to your lips. A soft moan escaped your throat as he sucked on your lips, taking control of the kiss.

Arousal stirred inside you as he nipped down at your neck, licking and sucking until you arched your back under him, desperate for his touch.

“Missed me baby?” he teased, “because I sure missed you”, his violet eye scanned over your body, blown with lust as he made his way down. His slim fingers ghosted along your stomach, then gripped harshly onto the meaty flesh of your thigh. Your legs parted, letting him know what you wanted. He didn't hesitate, pulling your underwear off with one swoop. Leaving you completely bare in front of him.

“I missed this pretty little pussy too, fuck,” he groaned before biting at your thighs just before lowering his head between them, licking a stripe up your slit. You bucked under him, pushing him harder against you, driving his face deeper into your center.

A low groan left your throat, his name falling from your lips as you tugged at his silver hair and held his face against you. His tongue circled around your clit, the small bud swollen from his attentions. His fingers found their way inside you, exploring your cunt.

His thumb replaced his tongue on your clit as he rubbed harsh figure eights against you. He continued to rub your clit harder. Your breathing quickened, and your body legs began to shake.

"Oh, there’s my girl. You gonna cum for me?"

The combination of his words and a few more thrusts of his fingers made your mind go completely blank. Your ears rang, your vision blurred so much you had to squeeze your eyes shut, eventually seeing stars. Aemond finger fucked you through your orgasm as you soaked his hand.

You laid there for a moment, total blackness surrounding you until your Aemond’s calm voice brought you back to reality.

“Holy shit. You good baby?”

You nodded your head eagerly at him, “More than okay.”

After giving you some more time to come down from your first orgasm, Aemond crawled on top of you, as he began to slowly drag his cock between your already swollen folds, swirling the tip in your wetness; almost pushing in, but not quite.

“Aem,” you moaned, “please, I need to feel you. All of you .”

“Still so needy, hm?” He teased as he buried his cock inside you to the hilt. You winced at the length of him.

“Littleeee bit of a stretch baby,” he said as he let you adjust to his size, “there we go.”

"Oh.. Gods," you moaned. You forgot just how big Aemond was. The stretch was almost unbearable and yet, you craved more. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper into you.

He began to rock back and forth into you, pumping his cock in and out. The louder you moaned, the harder he pounded into you. Eventually, the head of his cock pressed against your cervix.

"Please, please don't stop," you begged. He began to pound into you harder and faster, the lewd sound of his balls slapping against your ass filled the room. You felt your second orgasm of the night building inside of you as he continued to fuck you.

"Oh, Gods! Aemond, please, you’re going to make me cum again,” you babbled as your orgasm ripped through you once more. Your cunt clenched around his length as the tip of his cock bullied the spongy spot inside you without mercy.

Your slick coated walls contracting around him was all it took for him to lose control. He let out a loud groan as he spilled himself inside you, filling you with his seed as he bit down hard on your neck.

“Fuck,” he groaned as the aftermath of his own orgasm coursed through him, his cock still twitching inside of you. After placing a wet kiss on your cheek he positioned himself upright, placing a hand flat on the headboard behind you to help keep balance, he slowly pulled his cock out of you. You winced at the emptiness, a pool of warmth leaking out of your cunt and onto the bed sheets.

“Oh, shit. Here, let me help clean you up.”

As you came down from your high, you also came to your senses. No. Him cleaning you up would be too intimate of an act — as if he wasn’t just buried inside of you.

“No, Aem. It’s fine, I need to go to the bathroom anyway.”

He shrugged, “there are washcloths under the sink if you need one.”

Your heart sank as the bathroom door shut. A red lacy bra, that definitely didn’t belong to you was slung over the door handle. Memories of your past relationship came flooding back, along with feelings of sadness and regret. You couldn’t help but wonder who the bra belongs to, your first thought was that older professor. It's a painful reminder that not only had Aemond had not changed at all, he also just took advantage of you.

This was definitely a bad idea.

2K notes · View notes

shadowkoo · 5 days

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Kingdom Cum

→ Summary: On the eve of your wedding, you're ready to let loose and make it a night to remember. In the heart of a vibrant city, surrounded by your closest friends, you're determined to savor one last taste of freedom. But when a series of unexpected encounters transforms the celebration into something far wilder than you ever imagined, you find yourself torn between temptation and the life you're about to commit to. At Kingdom Cum, the night is bound to be steamy; leaving your desires to run high, while dangerously blurring the lines between loyalty and lust.

↠ mingi x f.reader x hongjoong | 3.3k words | 18+ ↠ genre: y2k cyberpunk aesthetic nightclub, exotic dancer/stripper au, the filthiest smut i’ve written in a looooong ass time

→ Warnings: infidelity (Y/N is at her bachelorette party) double penetration and double teaming (you’re welcome in advance), fingering, oral sex (female receiving), partial voyeurism and exhibitionism, breast play, light bondage (bride sash used as a restraint), spanking, begging, semi public sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, doggy deluxe, edging, deep dicking, belly bulge, clit pinching, ass enthusiast!hongjoong, teasing expert!mingi, well behaved!reader, multiple orgasms, sloppy oral sex, cock swallowing, cock choking, throat fucking, size kink, heavy praising, slight degradation, creampies, cum play, cum stuffing, overstimulation, the slightest power play, mingi’s got a magic cross dick piercing (bc why not hehe i’m feeling evil) there’s probably more I’m missing

→ Networks: @ksmutsociety @k-vanity

→ Author Note: a big thank you to beezy @hobeemin for beta editing, to cherry @shuadotcom, summer @beomcoups, booki @kwanisms, and maren @wooahaeproductions for hyping me up and letting me scream about this!

And also to sevn @aaagustd & nabi @jenoslutie for being my sprinting partners for several days i would have never finished this without the motivation fr, ILYSM <3

It’s almost midnight, and the real fun is about to begin. It’s your bachelorette weekend, and you’re surrounded by your closest friends, ready to celebrate in style.

The city lights glimmer outside, but all laughter and music are inside. Drinks flow as you and your crew revel in the weekend's freedom. You’ve been looking forward to this escape for months and with your girls by your side, the energy is electric.

The night is young, the city is yours, and the party is only getting started.

“Just wait, I’ve heard they strip everything,” Yeri says, emphasizing her last word.

“They better be hot,” Sunny jokes, lifting her cup to sip her drink. You’re all sitting at a table in Kingdom Cum, a popular cyberpunk nightclub that’s known for having the two best after-dark dancers in the city - SpankMaster and SlickNasty.

“Hi ladies,” a male says from behind your group, “We can’t show you everything, but you won’t be disappointed.”

Turning to look, you see that it’s a gorgeous man with a blue streak running through his tousled hair. He runs his ring-covered fingers through his colorful strands, furthering the messy-styled look.

“I heard earlier that a bachelorette party would be joining us tonight. After spotting you sexy ladies, I knew you had to be the group.”

His eyes land on you, “You must be the bride.”

It’s obvious, you can’t pretend otherwise - even if you want to. You’re wearing a slutty white bra top (per Yeri’s demand), and white cheetah print pants with a ridiculous silk sash that says ‘Future Mrs.’ across the middle.

“Mingi, better known as SlickNasty, at your service,” He says, extending a hand toward you. His fingers brush yours before gently lifting your hand to his lips. Mingi’s eyes never leave yours, holding your gaze as he places a soft, lingering kiss on the back of your hand.

It feels way more intimate than it’s probably meant to be.

As he finishes, he lowers your hand slowly, releasing it with a sly smile that hints at something more.

Or maybe that’s exactly how he meant it…

“And here comes the other half of tonight’s show,” Mingi says directing your attention to the next stunning man walking over to your table.

“Hello ladies, I’m Hongjoong, your SpankMaster. My pleasure to meet you,” he says, his voice deep yet smooth, brimming with confidence that radiates from his effortless demeanor. “We’re here to steal the lovely bride-to-be for the first performance.” He winks at Sunny, whose cheeks instantly heat up.

“Oh, yeah, absolutely! Take her away!” She blurts, practically pushing you out of your seat and into their arms. You rise to your feet and follow them as they lead you backstage.

“Alright, hot stuff,” Hongjoong says once you’re hidden behind the curtain. “Excuse my manners, I forgot to ask for your name.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“Here,” Mingi directs you to sit down on the chair conveniently placed at the center of the stage. He stands to your left, hovering over you as Hongjoong leans in on the right side.

“Just gotta confirm before the show starts, do we have your consent to touch you on stage?” Mingi questions an inch away from your heated face.

“Yes,” You nod, giving them permission.

“That’s a good girl,” Mingi whispers in your ear. Before you have time to react, the curtains sweep open, and bright lights flood the stage, momentarily blinding you. Over the rush of excitement, you can hear your friends cheering wildly from their table.

The two explode onto the stage with electrifying energy, their movements sharp, fluid, and in perfect sync with the pounding beats. A few backup dancers join behind where you are seated. They’re all dressed in neon, complementing the trendy punk looks of Mingi and Hongjoong.

The stage vibrates with power as they hit every beat with precision, seamlessly blending their different styles together.

“How’s everyone doing tonight,” SpankMaster (Hongjoong) grins, swaying his hips to the beat as he struts down the catwalk of the stage. He poses at the end, teasing all the women in the room as he slowly lifts a corner of his tank top.

He drops the fabric and wags a finger, “Not quite yet, I wanna hear you scream for it.” The crowd erupts, giving him exactly what he demands and he chuckles.

“That’s good, very good actually,” he praises. “SlickNasty, you think you can help me out?”

Mingi saunters over until he’s behind Hongjoong, resting his hands on his friend’s shoulders before running them down his chest. He bunches the thin fabric between his fingers and tears Hongjoong’s shirt right down the middle, leaving the shreds to fall onto the stage.

They turn around, gyrating their hips to the beat and in sync with one another, before walking back over to where you are seated.

“Ready to have some fun?” Mingi’s breath tickles your neck as he straddles your lap. He hovers above you before crossing his arms and slowly lifting his shirt off next, tossing it somewhere offstage where two women fight over it.

As Mingi dances, his gaze remains fixed on yours, an unspoken connection pulsing between you both with every move. The music echoes around you, but it's the intensity of his eyes that holds your attention, drawing you in deeper.

Even as his body twists and sways in rhythm, he never breaks eye contact, as if the entire room has faded away and it's just the two of you in this moment. Each glance feels deliberate, filled with a mix of arrogance and something darker that keeps you locked in, unable to look away.

The rest of the song is a blur of skin and muscles. Every roll of Mingi’s hips has your insides burning more and more. The air is thick and heavy, like the calm before a storm. And boy, do you want it him to rain down on you.

His movements overflow with unspoken words, and tension hums beneath the surface. It’s electric and suffocating, as if any moment could tip the scales and send everything spiraling out of control. That thought pools heat between your thighs.

Hongjoong saunters back over toward you, pausing to tap Mingi on the shoulder. It’s their signal to one another, and they switch positions effortlessly.

Mingi returns to the front of the stage, dancing energetically while engaging with the crowd, drawing them in with his cocky presence.

Hongjoong has a sideways grin on his face as he pulls you to your feet. “Show me your moves, hot stuff," he teases with a grin, twirling you around with effortless grace. As the spin ends, he slides down your side, fluidly and playfully, syncing perfectly with the rhythm of the music.

Swaying your hips against his, you raise an arm to your hair to release the claw clip currently holding it up. Tossing your head back, you let the curls bounce around you as move to the beat. Your friends’ screams fade into the background as you lose yourself in the moment.

Mingi watches you, his eyes all dark and broody. He’s entranced, stuck under your spell as you grind against his best friend. His eyes lock with Hongjoong’s and they share a silent exchange, and with a quick nod, agree on the matter.

Your moment is suddenly interrupted when the crowd erupts into chaos, the lights dimming, and then it dawns on you. Their set is over. This is over. Damn.

The backup performers step out from the shadows and down into the crowd, pulling fellow show-goers to the open dance floor. The DJ picks up the tempo as more and more people leave their seats to join in on the fun, including your friends who are dancing with a few hotties themselves.

The curtains shut dramatically again, closing you off from the outside world.

“Follow me,” A stagehand says, grabbing your attention and directing you backstage with SpankMaster and SlickNasty.

“Um…What now?” you ask nervously as the two look at each other knowingly. “I should-uh. I should head back, right?” You awkwardly point to the front of the venue.

“Well, now you have a decision to make,” Hongjoong smirks. “You can go back to your friends…”

“Or you can stay here with us,” Mingi finishes, cracking open the door to his dressing room, inviting you to join them.

Your gaze travels back and forth between the two. Half of you knows better than to pretend like you don’t know what will happen if you go in there. But the other half of you is dying to find out if you’re right. It is your last night of freedom, how can you turn down this chance?

“Do you trust us?” Mingi asks, pulling you from your battling thoughts.

“Yes.”

Your stomach twists in anticipation as they shut the door behind you, and with a decisive click, you’re locked inside.

Mingi is the first to touch you, his large hands wrapping around your bare waist, pulling your backside up against his front. Those same hands slide up to your breasts, kneading them lightly at first. You moan, reaching backward to clutch his strong thighs, your nails digging into them as his grip tightens.

“You’re gonna be a fun one, aren’t you,” Mingi chuckles in your ear, nipping at it gently before pulling away from you. He joins Hongjoong who’s sitting on the black couch, waiting.

“Last chance to leave, sweetheart,” Hongjoong warns, tapping the space between him and Mingi. Your legs move before your mind and heart even catch up to what you truly want, what you crave.

You should be running back to your friends, and yet, you sit.

“Good girl,” Hongjoong murmurs before crashing his lips against yours. His tongue tickles the corner of your lips, demanding to be let inside.

Simultaneously, Mingi works to undo your pants. You lift your hips, giving him space to drag the fabric down your hips, leaving them in a pile on the floor.

“Damn, baby,” he groans, looking at your damp panties. “Look how worked up you already are. Spread your legs for us. Let us see how wet you are.”

You comply and are kindly rewarded when Mingi’s fingers pull your panties to the side. Sucking in a sharp breath, your head falls back as he spreads your dewy folds open with his digits.

“Is the fact that I’m fingering you while my best friend watches getting you all worked up?” he questions devilishly, already knowing the answer. Your face twists in pleasure with every curl of his fingers.

Mingi’s other hand wraps around your hair, pulling your mouth to his. He sucks in your bottom lip, surprising you when he bites down.

Hongjoong sucks on your exposed neck, then hovers above the spot he created, pleased with the purplish spot already growing. One of his hands dips down between your legs, meeting Mingi’s as he adds another two fingers inside you.

“This pretty little cunt’s gotta get stretched out if she’s gonna take both of us. Do you want that?” Hongjoong asks, his voice all husky.

“Yes,” you breathe shakily, “I want that so bad.”

Their fingers quicken, pumping in perfect sync, each thrust inward hits that sweet spot that has you dancing dangerously close to the edge.

“Please, please!” you cry out, begging for release.

“That’s it, gorgeous. Let us hear those pretty moans,” Hongjoong praises.

Your body inevitably tenses as shockwaves rush through your body, pleasure pulsating head to toe as your insides contract around their slowing fingers.

Mingi tilts his head and grins. “Are you ready?” he asks as you’re catching your breath.

Before the words ‘for what’ even have time to register in your brain, he moves from his spot next to you and kneels between your legs. Swiftly placing his hands behind your knees, he yanks you forward. “I know what to do to make this kitty purrrrrr,” he rolls his tongue, “Are you ready to find out why they call me SlickNasty?”

“God, yes,” you plead as he rips your useless panties off, throwing the remaining fabric elsewhere.

Mingi delves into your soaked center, and he moans deliciously, loving your sweet taste. The one thing he loves most in the world is pleasing a woman with his tongue; the satisfaction he gets is unmatchable.

His tongue licks up your slit, circling the sensitive nub several times, making your legs shake and his length stiffen.

“Such a good slut. Look at you, trying to fuck my tongue,” Mingi rasps as you push back against his mouth.

You’re a moaning mess, frozen in pleasure, and Hongjoong takes the opportunity to untie the back of your top. He tosses it aside with the rest of the clothing that is quickly disappearing.

He sucks one of your velvety peaks into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth before sucking to alleviate the pain.

Hongjoong massages your other breast with his hand while his mouth continues its beautiful assault on your hardening point. He releases his lips only briefly, blowing air over your wet mound, before swapping to the other side.

“Fuck, I need more,” you beg, arching your back off the couch.

As if they know that you’re on the precipice of coming again, the two men work harder; Mingi’s tongue lapping your folds as his nose rubs against your sensitive clit, Hongjoong’s teeth tugging on your nipple.

A moan tears through you, your body convulsing as your second orgasm courses through your veins.

Without giving you time to come down from your high, Mingi flips your body over in one quick movement, leaving you on your hands and knees. He stands at the end of the couch, shoving his leather pants down and freeing his cock.

Your mouth waters as you take in the size of him. Something reflects in the light, and your eyes quickly land on his tip. It’s pierced, with two bars crossing over each other, creating the perfect ‘X’ marks the spot.

“Open wide for me, pretty girl,” he says, quickly shoving his length into your stunned mouth. He’s hot and heavy, just his tip alone fills your mouth. You stretch your jaw, opening as wide as you can to take in more of him.

Something feral inside Mingi switches when he notices his cock creating a bulge in your throat. He growls, grabbing a fistful of your hair to hold your head steady while he watches it move as he does.

Hongjoong undresses behind you, quickly finding his place at your backside. He takes a moment to enjoy your ass from this angle, gazing unapologetically before raising a hand to slap the perfectly untouched skin.

Your flesh jiggles from the impact, and he rubs the area to relieve the stinging. He admires the redness growing across your cheeks as he spanks you again and again.

You moan, vibrating around Mingi’s cock.

“I think she likes that, what do you think Hongjoong?” Mingi says through gritted teeth.

“I know something she’ll like even more,” Hongjoong answers before slamming his thick length into your heat.

“Oh yeah,” he practically purrs, loving the way you take all of him. With every hard thrust from Hongjoong, you choke around Mingi’s cock.

Mingi wipes the drool dripping down from your chin before gripping your jaw, “You’re just a toy that’s meant to be stuffed from both ends, isn’t that right?”

You nod as much as you are able with his length still shoved deep down your throat.

“Such a good toy,” Hongjoong compliments, awarding your ass with another hard smack. Your nails dig into the arm of the couch to keep from falling over.

Holy fuck.

Mingi’s cock twitches, but he holds back. He’s got other plans on where his cum will be spilling tonight. He makes eye contact with Hongjoong, and they share the same thought as he slips out of your wrecked mouth.

You mewl at the loss of contact when Hongjoong also pulls out. But before you have time to ask questions, Mingi lifts you and carries you over to his vanity, gently setting you down against the cool marble countertop.

Hongjoong’s eyes land on something white and silky on the floor; he smirks at his finding.

Perfect, he thinks, grabbing it from the ground and twisting it in his hands as he saunters over toward you. Your mind registers that it’s your ‘bride’ sash.

“Hold your wrists out.” You do as you're told, and he ties it around them. He lifts your joined hands over your head, pinning them in place. “Will you keep them there?” he asks.

“Yes,” you whisper, keeping them lifted when he removes his hands.

Your eyes wash across both men’s bodies, their cocks resting up against their abs. It’s the best sight in the world.

They look to you for approval as they line their cocks lined up with your center. You nod repeatedly, silently begging them to fuck you already.

Slowly, they both push into your needy cunt. You feel the cool metal of Mingi’s piercing glide against your inner walls as they sink into you.

Mingi tosses his head back once he’s pushed to the hilt; the position shows off his tense neck veins.

Meanwhile, Hongjoong hisses as his body goes rigid. Taking in a couple of deep breaths, he regains his composure and turns his head toward Mingi, giving a slight nod to say it’s go-time.

You scream out when they pull back, slamming back into you before you even have time to register. Pain mixed with pleasure at the stretch you out.

“You can take it, I know you can,” Hongjoong says, his hand gripping your waist.

“So fucking tight,” Mingi groans.

Your eyes land on your lower stomach, where you can see their cocks practically rearranging your insides. Moaning as you watch the bulge move in and up and down motion, your arms momentarily fall while distracted.

Hongjoong growls, grabbing your bound wrists and slamming them back up against the wall. His thrusts get slightly sporadic, getting closer to his own release.

Your body glistens with sweat, and Mingi is entranced by your perfect tits with perky nipples bouncing in circles as they hammer into you.

You hook your legs around both men, crying out when Hongjoong pinches your clit.

“Come. Now.”

Mingi’s demand has your mouth watering from the sheer dominance laced in his voice. Your eyes flutter as your face twists, accepting your fate as you succumb to orgasm number three.

Hongjoong grunts as your walls tighten around both cocks. His eyes roll back as he releases his creamy load into you. He shudders, pulling out of you and watching some of his cum drips onto the floor below.

Mingi growls after Hongjoong steps back, lifting one of your legs as he pounds into you one, two, three more times until his cum shoots through your soft folds.

You’re perfectly content and ruined, unable to move.

“Didn’t I say that would be fun?” Mingi says after noticing your blissfully fucked face. He leaves a quick kiss on your cheek before stepping back to clean himself.

When he returns, you’re about to reach for one of the tissues he has in hand when you’re quickly stopped by Hongjoong.

“Ah, ah, ah.” He shakes a finger, before putting two between your legs, stuffing their creamy mixture back up into your heat.

“That’s for later, when you’re missing us,” he winks, handing you your pants to slip on while Mingi reaches for your top.

“So, you better get back to your friends,” Mingi says, stepping back after he helps you into your shirt. “We don’t want them to think you got lost for good.”

Hongjoong taps you on the ass lightly as you’re led to the door, “Goodbye, hot stuff.” He smirks. “Good luck with the wedding.”

…Oh yeah…

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 1 month

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can you please do loki x reader new kink exploration?

.⋆｡Playtime｡⋆.

Loki x plus size reader

Sex with Loki isn’t boring but it isn’t exactly spicy either and you’re craving something more

Warnings: breeding kink, ownership kink, smut, mentions of other kinks, fluff, established relationship, rough sex, no real foreplay, implication of the beginning of a d/s dynamic, safe word mentioned WC: 1.4k

6k Follower Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“Oh come on! We all saw the way he was when we handcuffed him, Loki is kinky as hell and you cannot tell me that you two just do missionary shit!” Natasha’s words were slurred, courtesy of the half dozen mimosas she had devoured before her meal had actually arrived.

Heat radiated off your cheeks though it wasn’t from the alcohol. “So what if we do? It’s fun!” You insisted, making Wanda roll her eyes.

“You’ve been together for almost a year and you’re saying that you haven’t even dabbled in tying him up?” You shook your head, “Tying you up?”

“No! Ok, we haven’t done anything,” you lowered your voice and glanced around the bustling restaurant, “kinky per se. But c’mon it took us years to even admit we liked each other and over two months to even get to heavy petting. We just move slowly is all.”

Natasha scoffed. “Yeah right. That man wants to utterly destroy you, he’s just being sweet because you don’t have as much experience as him. He doesn’t want to scare you off. If you want to get properly down and dirty with the man, you have to go to him first.” She said matter-of-factly as she took another swig of what was now just champagne.

You looked to Wanda for backup but she just shrugged. “She’s right. You have to make the first move.”

“But where do I even start?”

They looked at each other before turning back to you. “Tumblr.”

——————

You wondered if they ever got tired of being right. Pet play, CNC, BDSM, anal, the world was laid out in front of you and all you had to do was to find one (or two) that you really liked and beg your godly boyfriend to indulge you.

Your laptop was propped up on a pillow in front of you, a little notebook beside it that you were using to jot down anything you found even vaguely interesting. The list continued to grow as you scrolled but nothing had jumped out at you as something you desperately had to try.

“What are you up to my love?” Loki slid onto the bed beside you, his lips immediately finding your cheek. You cringed as a drop of sweat landed on your bare shoulder.

“Just doing some research. How was your workout?” He rolled his eyes and snuggled closer, his body slightly warmer than its usual icy temperature. A slim arm wrapped around your waist, his fingers just barely grazing the swell of your ass. You shifted your hips so that his palm dropped further, now fully cupping your backside. His lips curved upwards against your temple.

“I would much rather have worked out with you, love.” You shivered as his voice dropped and he squeezed your ass. “Especially when you look so delectable in this thin top.” The tip of his nose brushed against the strap of your tank top which you had paired with some thin panties.

“You are insatiable,” You suddenly smirked, turning your head so your lips were barely touching, “my king.” The last syllable had barely passed through your teeth then Loki’s eyes darkened and his lithe body tensed around you. Blunt nails dug into your ass as he held his breath for a moment, before he released it with a growl.

“You’re playing with fire, little one.” Your heart skipped a beat.

“Then it’s a good thing I have you to cool me down.” Your tongue darted out and you quickly licked at his lips before Loki could digest your words.

“Oh you naughty thing.” Your laptop and notebook were shoved to the side as your boyfriend pushed you onto your back, quickly settling himself between your soft thighs, pinning you to the bed. You couldn’t help but internally preen at the god’s wavering composure. “You do not know what you’re asking for.”

Your hands trailed up the length of his back, dragging his tight black shirt up with them. “Oh but I think I do.” The way he loomed over you, the savage look in his eyes, his heaving chest, his weight keeping you down. You knew exactly what you wanted at that moment.

You wrapped your legs around his hips and tugged him against your core, the bulge of his cock knocking against your covered clit. “I want to be owned by you. Entirely.”

“But do you know what that truly means?” His hands creeped down to your hips, grabbing them with greater force than he had ever used on you before. You gasped and arched your back but he quickly pushed you back down. “It means that you’re mine, every single piece of you.” His fingers curled into the top of your panties and tugged them down with a swift roll of his shoulder.

“Loki.” He tsked, his shirt now discarded.

“Your thoughts will be mine. Your body. Your soul. Your pleasure” Your shirt soon followed, discarded on your bedroom floor then his shorts. An evil look creeped onto his face. “I will be your king, your god. You will take no other ever again.”

“Please.” You felt like you could barely breathe, the weight of his words falling heavily on your chest.

His cock throbbed against your lips, slowly becoming coating in your wetness. “This perfect, tight cunt is mine to do with what I wish.” His hips rocked back, letting his cock drop down to your entrance. Your eyes widened and you clutched at his forearms.

The thick head pushed against your opening, sending a pleasant burn through your pelvis. “If you wish for me to stop at any time, just say so.” His voice softened just enough to urge you to acknowledge him before you were plunged into his possession. You nodded quickly and raised your hips from the bed as you attempted to suckle him in.

“Mine.” He snarled, and without any warning, buried himself to the hilt, forcing a scream of pleasure from deep inside you. You clutched at the hard muscles of his back, desperate for any way to keep yourself grounded as he pulled out half-way and then slammed back in.

“Fuck, I should’ve done this the moment I met you. Wasted too much time not buried in this cunt, not claiming your womb.” You gasped, your pussy clenching down on his thick cock. Loki’s lip curled up. “Oh you liked that didn’t you? You want me to put you to use.” His hips tilted, hitting that spot inside you that made your mind go fuzzy.

“To breed you.” Your moans bounced off your bedroom walls, spurring the god to thrust into you even harder. “To show the entire world that you’re fucking mine. You belong to a god, you carry his seed in your belly. Who am I to ever deny you?”

He grabbed your wide hips and leaned back onto his heels. Your eyes rolled back as his tip suddenly slammed against your cervix and his heavy balls slapped against your ass. “I’ll fill you every chance I get, just to make sure it takes and you know that you are mine forever.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders, surely drawing blood, but you were too lost in pleasure to even care. Your body drew tight as you found it harder and harder to breathe. “I’ll give you what you want, little one. I’ll give you everything.”

“Loki!” Your legs locked around his hips, forcing him all the way into your spamming cunt as you finally came. He groaned and dropped his head to the crook of your neck. Shallow thrusts worked you through the powerful orgasm as he raced towards his own.

“All mine.” His teeth sank into your shoulder as an icy chin spread through your stomach. You could feel his cock twitching deep within you even through the fog of ecstasy.

Loki slumped down onto your chest, finally releasing your hips as he softened inside you.

“Holy shit.” You giggled breathlessly. “Knew that list was a good idea.”

As gently as he could, your boyfriend pulled out of you and flopped onto his back, dragging your spent body on top of him. “What list?” He mumbled into your hair in between soft kisses.

“Made a list of kinky stuff I wanna try.”

“Oh? And what else was on that little list of yours?” You propped your chin up on his sternum.

“Knife play?” Loki groaned and tugged you closer.

“Gods what have I gotten myself into?” He laughed.

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brokenmenswhore · 3 months

Text

betrothals & brothels | aegon, aemond, & jace

pairings: aegon targaryen x stark fem!reader, aemond targaryen x stark fem!reader, jacaerys velaryon x stark fem!reader

series summary: aemond targaryen tells the realm that you, the lady of house stark, are to wed him and secure a partnership in the north. in protest, you agree to marry jacaerys velaryon, affirming the north’s allegiance to rhaenyra. when the news hits king’s landing, aegon decides it’s better to have you under his watchful eye until the political partnership is solidified, but doesn’t realize you have a life away from your duty as a stark

chapter warnings: none

a/n: this wasn’t going to be a series but it just kept getting longer and longer so i had to split it into parts! so let me know if you like it i have more! this is for all the girlies who can’t decide between all these insatiable men.

this is mainly aegon but what’s the harm in indulging in all three?

the mentions of brothel work will make a lot more sense later! i don’t know anything about cregan’s parents but for this they sucked and now they’re dead :)

series masterlist

────── ☾ ──────

“How could you do such a thing?” your brother yelled, intruding into your chambers, anger evident on his face.

“What are you on about now, Cregan?” you sighed.

“We swore an oath of loyalty to Rhaenyra Targaryen, and you,” he spat, poking your chest, “suddenly decide to betrothe yourself to Prince Aemond? To the enemy?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, looking up at him with genuine misunderstanding. “What?”

“Don’t act stupid with me, sister,” Cregan warned.

“I am not betrothed to Aemond Targaryen,” you spoke plainly, “and I do not believe I have the liberty to choose who I am to marry, as our father so made clear.”

Cregan backed away, noticing your genuine concern and confusion. His sister had never met Aemond Targaryen, and as Lord of his house, Cregan would have been asked of a betrothal for his sister.

“‘Tis being spread across the realm,” Cregan said, “that you are to wed Aemond Targaryen and secure the North’s allegiance to Aegon the Usurper- the very allegiance that we have already pledged to the rightful queen.”

“I dare say you should know me better than to think me willing to sully our name in such a heinous way, brother,” you replied, “if this is the news they bring, it is false. We must clear this up at once.”

“I’m trusting you, sister,” Cregan warned, “with the rumors about you, I doubt this will be taken as just a jest from the dragons.”

He didn’t need to clarify what he was speaking of. For months, there were whispers of you frequenting brothels, learning about, and trying to achieve, your own pleasure. They were true, of course, but your brother had no need to know it.

You were kept on a tight leash most of your life, ridiculously sheltered, never having the opportunity to learn about the pleasures of life or your own body. Your brother was never one for frequenting brothels, but his friends were, and growing up, you would often follow them in the dark, stunned by the atmosphere of the whorehouses.

The women in these places were free, full of pleasure, and unashamed of their bodies. They allowed themselves to indulge without boundaries or judgement. You became enamored with such things.

You soon learned that these women made their wages from whoring, which only sparked your interest even more. Though being a Stark came with privileges, when your brother became Lord of Winterfell, he promoted himself as a working man, always assisting in matters pertaining to The Wall. You always felt like using Stark coin meant taking from Cregan, and you wanted to make your own way in the world. You loved being a Stark, but you loved being someone with no expectations or labels as well. You only worked a few nights per moon at one particular brothel that only allowed you clients who would not recognize you. You had your own coin, no name, and the ability to explore pleasure like never before. You were still a Stark in reality, however, so you knew to be careful, but the alternative lifestyle allowed you to have confidence in carrying yourself, rather than needing the help of your House or a husband.

Cregan had hounded you about the rumors for weeks, reminding you that as a lady of an esteemed house, you had certain duties, and certain privileges were off limits. He also reminded you that you would have much trouble finding a husband if you did not remain untouched.

You contested that it was unfair for him to have the freedom to seek out brothels, but it was looked down upon for you to do just the same. You didn’t fight too hard, though, so as not to cause suspicion that the rumors were true.

“Those rumors are cruel, and you and I both know it,” you retorted, “if they think me a whore, it should only fend them off of believing in this Targaryen lie so easily.”

“You are too strong-willed for your own good, sister,” Cregan sighed, turning on his heels and exiting your chambers.

✶

“It is not true,” Cregan pleaded, “my sister has never even met your uncles. She claims it to be false information spread by the king, and I believe her. My house is still with you.”

Jacaerys nodded his head, choosing to believe his friend. The moment the news of the alleged betrothal hit Dragonstone, Jace returned to Winterfell, eager to hear that his friend had not betrayed him. “I was not even aware you had a sister.”

“She is not around much,” Cregan explained, “she is much too independent to allow me any sense of control over her that does not directly impact the happenings of our House.”

“You think her too independent for marriage?” Jace questioned.

“I think her too independent for me to do that to any poor man,” Cregan laughed, “but I think she would agree to it. If it benefitted the Stark name, of course.”

Jace nodded, looking out over Winterfell as he thought. “My uncle Aemond may very well make good on this announcement,” he alleged, “this news may be a warning toward your house.”

“Meaning?” Cregan asked for clarification.

“Meaning that he may very well intend to marry your sister and force your hand in their favor, no matter what it may require.”

Cregan scoffed. “I am not scared of Aemond Targaryen, or his dragons.”

“Is a marriage to your sister the only way my uncles will be able to force your support?” Jace inquired, turning toward Cregan.

“Likely so,” Cregan answered, “but if Aemond Targaryen tries to force my sister’s hand in marriage, then I shall pity him more than I wish him dead.”

“Allow me to take her hand, then,” Jace offered, “lock away all options for my uncles. Aemond is nothing if not a properly dutiful man. A psychopath, yes, but a properly dutiful psychopath.”

“No,” is all Cregan said before turning back toward the view.

“And why not?”

“You do not want to wed my sister, Jacaerys, it would only be more strife for you.”

“It would solidify the North’s allegiance to my mother and dismiss any way for The Greens to try and steal it.”

Cregan pondered for a moment. Jacaerys was an ally, yes, but was also one of his closest friends, and he did not relish in the thought of Jacaerys being wed to his sister. He also knew how stubborn you could be, and he knew it would be more of a burden on Jace than anything. One thing was certain: he would rather have you wed Jacaerys than Aemond Targaryen.

Cregan and Jacaerys caught you out in the courtyard, snow sticking to your hair as it fell, watching with admiration as the Night’s Watch practiced their swordsmanship.

“She has always wanted to learn,” Cregan told Jacaerys, “but not a one of them will allow it.”

They stepped closer before Cregan called your name. You turned to him, catching his gaze before turning back to the Night’s Watch, intentionally ignoring his calling.

He called you repeatedly until you sighed and stood up, marching over to him.

“What could not have waited, brother?” you asked, bothered, “you can see I am otherwise occupied.”

“They will never let you wield a blade, sister, you were not occupied.”

“I quite enjoy watching the men in uniform, thank you very much,” you responded, “I would call myself occupied when watching such things.”

You knew the comment would piss him off, and you were not in the mood to be scolded by whatever he would say.

“This is Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen’s first born son,” Cregan said, motioning toward Jacaerys.

You gave Jace a quick smile before turning back to Cregan. “Okay?”

“You are to wed him in a fortnight.”

“Pardon?” you scoffed, “and to who do you think you speak?”

“If you are not already betrothed, I do not see the issue,” Cregan stated.

“You still do not believe me, do you? You would truly force my hand to prove it was not already previously forced?”

“This will secure our oath to the True Queen.”

“And what of my decisions? Are you to make them all for me now?” you fought, “you promised me it would not be like it was with father, Cregan.”

Your words hit him hard. Your father was controlling and manipulative, constantly taking away your free will in favor of the choices he thought best for Winterfell.

“I do not wish for it to be,” Cregan spoke, his voice now more intimate, “but I fear The Greens may make it so. Please trust me, Y/N.”

You exchanged a long glance before you shifted your gaze to Jacaerys, who smiled at you warmly, and then you returned back to Cregan. He was right, if The Greens wanted this allegiance bad enough, they had the power (and the dragons) to come get it themselves. “Okay.”

Cregan sighed in relief, straightening his posture and smiling. “Lovely,” he spoke, “I suppose we shall begin preparations tomorrow. The sooner it is official, the better.”

Cregan left, off to attend to his duties, leaving you alone with Jacaerys.

“He did not tell me he had a sister,” Jacaerys said.

“He does not often speak of me unless necessary,” you responded, “I often think he wishes I was much different. Less vocal, perhaps.”

Jacaerys smiled. “Why would it be such a terrible trait?”

“I do not exist in a world in which my voice holds weight, My Prince. I admit, it would be easier on Cregan if I was not so intent on using it anyway.”

“I think a voice unused is a voice wasted,” Jacaerys started, “and I think it would be a shame for yours to go unheard. I think it too pretty.”

You blushed at his comment. “You flatter me, My Prince, but it is unnecessary. I have already agreed to wed you. You do not owe me flattery.”

“I do not flatter you because it is what you are owed,” Jace explained, “I flatter you because you are pretty enough to be flattered.”

It was a genuine compliment, and one you had never heard before. The men at the brothels often complimented you, but it was out of pure lust, never out of the adoration you felt now.

You and Jacaerys became somewhat close over the next few days, spending most of your days attempting to get to know one another. You showed him some parts of Winterfell that Cregan hadn’t, nothing of the brothels, but your favorite spots in the woods, and the cave you so often ran to for solace.

“This is my favorite place in the world,” you told Jace, watching him look up at the ice formations atop the cave, “because of this.” You gestured to a giant hot spring in the ground.

“How does such a thing develop in such a cold environment?” Jacaerys asked.

“I do not know,” you admitted, “but I’m rather glad it did.”

Jacaerys watched you smile as you spoke about your favorite place, your eyes lighting up as you bent down to run your fingertips through the water. He stepped closer to you, causing you to stand up and meet his eye level.

“I think I quite like Winterfell,” he nearly whispered, tentatively placing his hands on your waist, nervous that he was overstepping.

“The cold looks good on you, My Prince,” you said, eye contact never breaking.

Jacaerys moved his face closer to yours slowly, giving you ample opportunity to stop him or back away, but you didn’t bite.

You appreciated him taking his time, but he was taking all too long. “Fucks sake, Jace,” you said, grabbing either side of his face in your hands and pulling him into a kiss. Your lips moulded perfectly together, the grip on your hips tightening slightly as your bodies were now pressed together.

Jacaerys broke the kiss first, taking a moment to breathe. “I need to return home to Dragonstone first thing to update my mother. I promise to return to you as soon as I may.”

You pressed your forehead against his. “You better.”

✶

Jacaerys was only gone two nights when you heard the intense whooshing that could only be caused by the wings of a dragon hitting the wind. He’s back already? you thought, looking into the sky to pinpoint Vermax. You spotted the wingspan in the distance, but something was off. The wingspan was too large. In fact, the wingspan was astoundingly large. The sheer size of the dragon was quickly noticed by onlookers within the castle walls, everyone turning their heads to sky. This is not Vermax. Something was wrong.

You stood atop a castle wall, making you the closest in the castle to the dragon, as her bronze and green feet gripped a platform atop the castle walls that was often used for catapults. She was obscenely close to you, nearly knocking you down from the wind force of her wings falling next to her body. You stepped back to give her some space, one of her eyes being the size of almost your entire body. She was beautiful, but her size would have intimidated even Cregan.

Her rider jumped down next to her, ducking under a wing to approach you. It was a face you had never seen before, but you were smart enough to know that there was only one person alive with staple silver hair and only one eye.

You wanted to make a witty comment about your ‘marriage betrothal,’ but the closer he got, the more you realized that although you had strong feelings about what he did, you had never actually met him, and you did not know what to say. You, however, refused to ever be rendered speechless.

“Couldn’t have landed a little further away, My Prince?” you asked as his footsteps became closer and closer, stopping a good ten feet away from you.

“She has a mind of her own, My Lady,” he responded, standing tall with both hands behind his back in proper stance.

“I would think so, she is a living creature.”

Aemond smirked. “I presume you know why I’ve come?”

“I know not of what you want, My Prince.”

“I believe you do. I did not announce a betrothal to jest, My Lady.”

You were slightly taken aback by the fact that he knew who you were so quickly. Even men at the brothels could not tell it was you- you feared there was something about you that gave it away. You quickly remembered you were adorned with the profile of a wolf head in steel, and you relaxed a bit.

“You did not announce a betrothal on anyone’s account but your own,” you fought, “I did not agree to such things and I will not agree to such things. What was your intent, My Prince? To tell me via raven that we are to be wed and anticipate I welcome you with open arms? I do not even know you.” Your tongue was becoming looser and looser, but you were growing angry. What right did he have to suggest you would agree to a betrothal he told the realm about before even asking you? You had never met this man before, and this was your only connection. He almost ruined your relationship with your brother, as well as your brother’s relationship with Rhaenyra and her family.

“I have received word that you are to marry my nephew Jacaerys,” he stated. You thought he would continue his sentence, but it ended there as he awaited a response.

“And?”

“And? My Lady, you are too disagreeable. You are to ride to King’s Landing with me as we prepare the terms of our marriage.”

“I will do no such thing,” you spat.

Aemond sighed, taking a few steps closer to you, but still leaving a few feet between your bodies.

“You will accompany me to King’s Landing, or you will watch Vhagar burn your home.”

You stared at him, searching his eye for any hint that the threat may be empty, but you found none. You barely found anything. You were not one to flinch or retreat, however.

“Threats are not the proper way to court a woman, especially one who is already betrothed to another,” you said, keeping your head up.

Without even turning his head, Aemond kept his eye locked on you, and shouted “Dracarys!” Vhagar knew it was directed to her, and she blew a steady stream of fire toward one of the castle walls, causing it to cave in on itself. The people below you ran away from the damage, frightened by Vhagar and any further threat to their home.

From below, you noticed Cregan running outside, surveying the damage before turning toward Vhagar, and noticing you and Aemond. You exchanged a look from a distance, sure that he was looking at you. If you left with Aemond, Cregan would never forgive you, and you would be betraying your family. If you didn’t leave with Aemond, he would burn down Winterfell, Cregan would still never forgive you, and you would still be betraying your family. You also did not want to hurt or lose Jacaerys, but watching the men of Winterfell try to extinguish the flames of your home, you knew you had the power to keep it safe, even if it meant giving yourself up.

“Fine,” you snapped, walking straight past Aemond until you were level with Vhagar’s head. “You have free will, you know,” you whispered to her, Aemond approaching and lifting you onto her saddle.

✶

The moment you arrived in King’s Landing, members of the King’s Guard were surrounding Vhagar, ready to grab you if you tried to retreat. As soon as your feet hit the ground, one of the men tied your wrists behind your back, adding further restrictions to keep you from trying anything.

“What a way to welcome a lady,” you spat.

The men did not speak, they just followed you and Aemond closely as the prince walked through the Red Keep, ignoring any unsure stares as he approached the throne room. He pushed both doors open, treading straight up to the Iron Throne. You were angry, but you kept your head up, refusing to appear weak. There was no one already in the room apart from the King, who sat on the throne in anticipation as you approached.

Aemond pivoted to stand next to the throne and therefore next to his brother, but the guards grabbed your wrists and halted you in place in front of the steps to the throne before you could continue following Aemond.

“I hear we have a wolf in our midst,” the King spoke.

You remained silent. You supported Rhaenyra in her claim to the throne, despite your brother’s concerns. Aegon had usurped her throne, had been obsessed with bloodshed since the crown touched his skull, and allowed his brother to falsify a betrothal to the realm for his own political gain. You hated him. He was not worth the breath.

“Does the wolf not howl?” he asked. You stared at him blankly, shoulders back, head up, mouth closed.

“I hear you’ve disrespected by dear brother and decided to marry my nephew,” he tried, but still, no answer. “Now tell me,” he said, standing up and slowly walking down the stairs, cup in hand, “why would you want to do that?”

You kept your eyes locked on him, focusing on keeping your breath steady as he approached you, standing directly in front of you.

“Jacaerys-“ he started, but he stopped for a moment, almost as if speaking the name disgusted him, “Jacaerys is not a man!” he yelled, smashing the cup on the floor next to your feet. There was something more to it, something in the past that you weren’t aware of.

You didn’t flinch. You remained still, eyes locked on him as he calmed down until he finally looked at you, matching your intense gaze.

“If you wanted a man, I have one for you. Funnily enough, I actually provided you with one for a husband,” Aegon continued, raising an arm toward his brother, “and I suggest you act grateful.”

Aegon stayed in your face for a moment, intentionally running his eyes over every portion of your upper body, not even trying to hide it when he traced the line of your dress hem and cleavage. He followed your body back up to your eyes. “Nothing to say?” he taunted.

“The only reason a man would force a woman’s hand for political gain,” you started, “is if he is too weak to garner allies himself.”

Aegon’s nostrils flared as he looked at you. He was partially hurt, the word cutting deeper than any other could have, and he was partially angry that you would speak to your king in such a way. There was a small part of him that enjoyed it, though he would never admit it.

“I am not weak,” he spat.

“Then untie my hands,” you contested, “unless you do not think yourself strong enough to handle me.”

Aegon nodded his head, smiling and waving a finger at you as he backed up slightly. “Ah ah ah, I see, you want me to free you so you can run back to your bastard. My darling, you’re standing in front of a king.”

You scoffed, “you are no king of mine.”

Aegon’s smile dropped, his eyes becoming dark and his gaze intense. He seemed like he wanted to continue fighting with you, but his next comeback was lost in his throat. “Get her out of my sight.”

The guards started to direct you away, but you were insistent on getting in the last word. “You should lock me in the dungeon if you’re so scared of me, Your Grace,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice, “I can’t promise I’ll behave anywhere else.”

Aemond tensed at your words, realizing he was in for a rather tumultuous time with you, but Aegon sat back on the Iron Throne, a slight smile on his lips as you were dragged out of the room.

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infiniteglitterfall · 2 months

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I do realize this is a real niche post but I cannot tell you how many damn times over the past 10 months I've seen gentiles tell Jews some version of, "Your own holy book SAYS God doesn't want you to have a country yet!"

And it's such an incredibly blatant and weirdly specific tell that they're not part of something that grew from progressive grassroots, but something based on right-wing astroturfing.

1. Staying in your own lane is a pretty huge progressive principle.

Telling people in another group that their deity said they couldn't do X is, I think, as far as you can get from your own lane.

2. It's also very clearly Not In Your Own Lane because I've never seen anyone actually be able to EITHER quote the passage they're thinking of, OR cite where it is.

It's purely, "I saw somebody else say this, and it seemed like it would make me win the debate I wasn't invited to."

3. It betrays a complete ignorance of Jewish culture and history.

Seriously? You don't know what you're referencing, its context, or even what it specifically says, but you're... coming to a community that reads and often discusses the entire Torah together each year, at weekly services... who have massive books holding generations of debate about it that it takes 7 years to read, at one page per day....

And saying, "YOUR book told you not to!"

I've been to services where we discussed just one word from the reading the whole time. The etymology. The connotations. The use of it in this passage versus in other passages.

And then there is the famous saying, "Ask two Jews, get three opinions." There is a culture of questioning and discussion and debate throughout Judaism.

You think maybe, in the decades and decades of public discussion about whether to buy land in Eretz Yisrael and move back there; whether it should keep being an individual thing, or keep shifting to intentional community projects; what the risks were; whether it should really be in Argentina or Canada or someplace instead; how this would be received by the Jews and gentiles already there, how to respect their boundaries, how to work with them before and during; and whether ending up with a fuckton of Jews in one place might not be exactly as dangerous for them as it had always been everywhere else....

You think NOBODY brought up anything scriptural? Nobody looked through the Torah, the Nevi'im, the Ketuvim, or the Talmud for any thoughts about any of this?? It took 200 years and some rando in the comments to blow everyone's minds???

4. It relies on an unspoken assumption that people can and should take very literal readings of religious texts and use them to control others.

And a sense of ownership and power over those texts, even without any accompanying knowledge about what they say.

It's kind of a supercessionist know-it-all vibe. It reads like, "I know what you should be doing. Because even if I'm not personally part of a fundamentalist branch of a related religion, the culture I'm rooted in is."

Bonus version I found when I was looking for an example. NOBODY should do this:

There are a lot of people who pull weird historical claims like "It SAYS Abraham came from Chaldea! That's Iraq!"

Like, first of all, a group is indigenous to a land if it arose as a people and culture there, before (not because of) colonization.

People aren't spontaneously spawning in groups, like "Boom! A new indigenous people just spawned!!"

People come from places. They go places. Sometimes, they gel as a new community and culture. Sometimes, they bop around for a while and eventually assimilate into another group.

Second: THE TORAH IS NOT A HISTORY TEXTBOOK OMFG.

It's an oral history, largely written centuries after the fact.

There is a TON of historical and archaeological research on when and where the Jewish culture originated, how it developed over time, etc. It's extremely well-established.

Nobody has to try to pull what they remember from Sunday school for this argument.

#jumblr #Jewish history #hamas propaganda and fundie Christian propaganda are a terrible mix #fuck hamas #depressing discourse #wall of words

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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 3 months

Text

give me your heart, make it real

pairing: javier peña x reader

tags/cw: smut, f! receiving oral, p in v, undercover as lovers, big dick javi, no use of y/n, no reader physical description, gentle lover javi

summary: javi needs a 'date' to a party (where escobar and crew will be idk), and asks reader to help him by dressing up in a 'slutty' outfit (not his words)

a/n: okay, yes, the title is from smooth by santana ft. rob thomas (on my javi-coded spotify playlist even tho it came out post-narcos). i've only made it to s2 ep4 and slept thru s1 ep8-10, so i've been committing the crime of not knowing the lore (i am so down bad for javi it's insane)

wc: 3.8k

"I have a lead, and you're coming with me," Javi says, already ushering you out of the room.

"You can't just whisk me away - I have to ask Messina."

"Messina gave me the go-ahead."

"I still need to-" You try to walk away from him but his hand loosely holds your arm, and before you break free, Messina says, approaching from behind, "Go with Agent Peña."

It must be a good lead if she's so quick to send you off with Peña. He looks you over, and says, "You can't wear that. How quickly can you change?"

"Into my tactical gear?"

"No, into a dress."

"Whose quinceañera are we attending?"

"Funny. I have intel about a party happening this evening. You're going to be my date. I need you in a dress - the shorter the better - and makeup, lots of it."

"You want me to look like a hooker?"

"Something like that."

You expect Javi to drop you off at your apartment, but he follows you in – he tries to follow you all the way to your bedroom, but you stop him. Maybe he’s just running on instinct, not used to having a woman invite him into her home without the intention of sex.

"Go sit in the living room," you scoff, pushing him away. "Make yourself at home." You keep your tone sarcastic to avoid letting any nervousness creep into your voice.

You're not supposed to look pretty, per se. He's expecting slutty, and yet, you still worry about looking too slutty in front of Javi. You've made a conscious effort to keep every interaction between the two of you professional, and you are determined to keep it that way. While you cake your face in cosmetics, you remind yourself that you would not go to such lengths for Javi. This is not for Javi, this is for a nobler cause than landing in his good graces. You’re fulfilling your duties as an agent on a mission to stop a narcoterrorist, and that paycheck better arrive at the end of month or you’ll be forced to get on your knees for your landlord who is not quite as handsome as Javi.

Yes, that’s right, Javi is handsome, disgustingly so. You loathe him, not for his sex appeal itself but for his awareness of such, not for the fact that he could leverage it against you, but for the fact that he thinks he can. He can.

Javier Peña sees all women the same way - not quite as objects, but conquests. Even if you're someone, rather than something, you're still someone he could have. But you don't bend to his will, at least you haven't yet, and that's the one thing you hold over him.

Your brain is logical, and holds you to a higher standard. This has nothing to do with desire, but simple facts put into an equation that gives you a clear output. Every time the illogical part of you that lives between your thighs begs for attention, your mind reminds you of your current mantra: Javi is a walking, talking, fucking bad idea.

The red lipstick and minidress are going to get you one step closer to catching Escobar, and if it means you have to be Javi's date for a night, then it's a challenge you're willing to take.

Maybe pretending to like him will be easier than pretending not to like him, which is something you've struggled to do every day for months.

It will not be, you realize, when he whistles at you from the couch when you step out of your bedroom, all dolled up.

"I'm carrying my gun in my purse," you say - an empty threat.

"Good girl."

"Say it one more time, Peña," you warn him, pulling your lethal weapon from a tacky, dated clutch. Your grip on it is weak and the safety is on. He mirrors your gesture, lazily pointing his own gun at you.

But he keeps his mouth shut.

Between the two of you, who's the better shot? You hope you'll never have to find out.

Javi shamelessly flirts his way around the office, but his arm around your waist is purely professional as he guides you from the car, parked a safe distance away, to your destination.

"You don't speak Spanish, you respond to 'chica', and you definitely do not have a gun on you. Got it?"

"What do you want me to call you?"

"As long as it's not my name, whatever you want, chica."

"Asshole."

Playing dumb is more fun than you thought it'd be. The wandering eyes of drug lords make you feel icky, but you don't have to respond when they speak to you. You don’t have to prove your intelligence to every man you encounter, every man who will make you take on any task they can’t handle, don’t have time for, or simply can’t be bothered to do. You don't have to do shit for once.

You keep a drink in your hand as a part of the act. Party girls like you drink, right? Honestly, you’re dead set on keeping your hands full in the hopes that you won’t be given the opportunity to do a line, inevitably refuse such an opportunity, and risk being outed as someone on the other side of this war. Javi doesn't need to tell you to pour your own drink - it's a lesson all girls are taught from a young age. Training as a federal agent may have taught you sharpshooting, but your mother told you how to avoid getting roofied.

You have a tolerance built up thanks to picking alcohol as one of your favorite vices back in college, but you know how to act drunk. While you sway a little, Javi tightens his grip on your waist to keep you grounded. You pretend not to understand when he mentions to a small group of men that you might be down for more than one man tonight, he just needs to get you warmed up first. He sounds a little too comfortable saying those words, and you doubt it's just good acting. Regardless, they seem more than happy to hear about the possibility of getting in bed with you.

"What's everyone talking about?" You slur your words and smile stupidly.

"Don't worry about it, chica," Javi says with a sly look to a man you hope you won't actually have to sleep with.

You swear you see a twinkle of something in Javi's brown eyes as they meet yours.

You realize what that something is when he surprises you by capturing your lips in a searing kiss, daring to slip his tongue in your mouth. His hand sliding downwards says, 'just go with it'. You kiss him back, pulling his hair as he grabs your ass. You know he's putting on a show, but his touch makes you feel something all too real.

You swear you hear a whistle, it's likely directed at the two of you but the hustle and bustle of chatter covers up what the onlookers are saying. Javi hears enough to know that his plan is working.

'Get a room,' they say.

'Do you have a spare?' he asks.

Too drunk for their own good and too horny at the sight in front of them, the leader offers one up.

Your embarrassment is real – you're not hiding a winning smile underneath like Javi is. You're directed to a bedroom, and resisting the urge to scope the room immediately, Javi lays you flat on the bed and climbs on top of you, pinning your arms above your head - and, making you wetter than you'd ever tell him. He's keeping you from pushing him away until the door shuts and he tones things down.

He whispers into your ear when he's sure the man who led you here is far enough away that he can drop the act for a moment, "You're going to do what I say. No questions asked. Are we clear?"

You nod, terrified and knowing he's the only one you can trust in this place. With less shame than one might expect, he shows you what to do, getting you to mimic him. He sucks on his own fingers and you follow blindly, he pulls up the bottom of his shirt and slaps his skin while bouncing on the bed just enough that it creaks, rhythmically, like you're – oh, you understand.

Then, he whispers in your ear, "moan for me," and you do. "Perfect, just like that," he says, and you're no longer praying that you don't get caught by the cartel, but that you don't get caught by Javi. "That's good, keep going," he says, and god, you couldn't stop it if you wanted to.

You've forgotten everything else he's said, so he takes your hand and slides it up your dress, slapping the skin of your thighs and then grabs your hips to bounce them up and down. You whimper at the loss of his touch - all thoughts other than 'Javi' have left your head. He starts searching the room for evidence of anything case-related, and you continue to suck, moan, bounce, slap your skin, pretend to fuck the man in front of you because he wants you to, because he told you to keep going.

You watch Javi's back - as you should. You watch his arms, the way his jeans fit perfectly, the shape of his nose as he turns to his side and you can see his profile, his focused eyes.

You imagine his eyes looking over your body, his nose tickling your skin, those jeans coming off, his arms caging you in while he's on top of you. You hope the bed's not slick with arousal.

Don't touch yourself. But, he's not looking. Maybe you can pass it off as dedication to the cause. Don't. Don't. Don't.

When he finds what he needs, he takes what he can, receipts and encoded notes, and he shoves them down his pants. You watch him readjust. He sees, and gives you a look of 'what?'. He ruffles his hair, unbuttons his top two buttons, making himself look disheveled. Then, he licks thumb and runs in under your eyes, smudging your eyeliner and with the other, your lipstick. As if he's practiced, he wipes the excess red on his lips.

You look stunned, he looks satisfied. Everyone stares when you leave but for all the wrong reasons. They have no idea what went on in that room. Javi has no idea either. It's your own little secret.

When you make it to the safety of Javi’s car, you sigh, relaxing into the passenger seat, and he says, "Thank you. You did really well back there. I could just kiss you right now - for real."

You know what he means. It's another thank you, maybe even I'm proud of you. But he’s still giving you an opportunity. It has to be intentional.

"Then, do it. I dare you."

He could make a joke but he doesn't, he smiles and does as he said. He kisses you, and his lips parting slightly is the offer. When your tongue meets his, he knows, he must know.

"We should celebrate," he says. "Wanna come back to my place?"

You agree, even though you should know by now that going home with Javi is risky business at best.

Javi is enough of a gentleman to offer you a drink before suggesting you move things to the bedroom. All he has is whiskey, and while it's not your favorite, you decide the liquid courage is worth the taste.

"To us," Javi says, raising his glass before tapping it against yours. Sure, you're supposed to look into each other's eyes when you tap your glass against his, but the look you share says something beyond the toast. He might as well have winked at you. The tension is palpable, and you become increasingly aware of Javi's experience in this field - he may hold superiority to you in the DEA due to his extra years working for the agency, but what intimidates you is not that, but his body count, which is surely dozens above yours.

But then again, how much of the sex he has is with prostitutes? Is he even a good fuck? Maybe that's why he pays for sex. No, you've heard rumors being passed around throughout the DEA, and unless Javi pays for reviews too, he's good, great even.

"Are you in there, querida?" His head is cocked to the side in a way that lets you know he's been trying to get your attention for awhile.

"Oh yeah, I was just thinking."

"Anything interesting? I thought I was going to have to shake you."

"No, my mind's just…"

"Elsewhere?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Mine too." He places his glass on the table. "You did very well today. Have you ever acted before?"

"No, not really."

"You're a natural, then, because it was pretty convincing."

You think you've gotten away with it until you see the glint in his eye.

"It helps when you're… inspired," you say with a coy grin.

"Inspired? Is that what they're calling it now?"

"I don't wanna say it. It's embarrassing."

"You don't have to, it was pretty obvious how you felt."

It's good that you've had a drink or two because you'd be running out of the room in embarrassment if you hadn't. You're not as practiced as some of the girls he's been with, and it's probably obvious, but you're not a virgin either. You're also not an idiot. This is going in the direction you've always wanted it to - towards his bedroom.

Javi leans in, and whispers into the shell of your ear, "I didn't give you the tour of my apartment, did I?"

His hot breath on your skin sends chills down your spine, but you pretend to be barely-fazed. "Mm-mm, you haven't."

"Do you wanna see my bedroom?"

"Yeah, I'd like that."

He takes your hand and helps you up, and though you’ve felt his hands before, you notice the way one of his can envelop yours. He kisses you, soft and sweet, he kisses you, passionate and feverish, he kisses you with purpose, walking you backwards in the direction of his bedroom. He can tell you're nervous about the possibility of knocking into things so he assures you, "Don't worry. I know my way around. I won't let you get hurt."

"You come here often?"

You get a laugh out of him, light and genuine, but most of all rare. "Not as often as I should."

You find that his grip on you is looser than it was in public. There's nothing to protect you from here. It's just Peña, your colleague. It's just Javi, the man you've seen in the risque dreams you have too frequently to write them off as a misfire in your subconscious.

If someone had asked you with a gun to your head if you thought Javier Peña would be a gentle lover, you'd be dead. And if you are, then you made it to heaven.

He slides your zipper down carefully and lets you slip out of your dress, insisting on abiding by the rule of 'ladies first' when you try to unbutton his shirt. Your fingers shake as you restrain yourself against the urge to rip the fabric, so he replaces your hands with his own. His belt is gone too by the time he sits down on the edge of the bed, hands holding yours while he gazes at you in your bra and panties.

"Do you dress like this under your work clothes every day or was this for your 'costume?'"

"I wanted to do a good job playing my part. I didn't know if I'd need to take off my dress."

"But you were willing to if I'd asked you?"

"You told me to do whatever you said."

"But you could've told me to 'fuck off'. Did you want me to see you like this? Is it possible that you wanted to look pretty for me?"

"You're very good at interrogations, Peña. You would make a good cop."

He keeps his laughter contained, but there's a hint of a smile on his lips when he says, "You're going to call me, 'Javi' when you're in my bed. Are we clear?"

You salute him just to push his buttons, and it works, he pulls you into his lap and holds you there. You love his tight jeans for the way they allow you to feel how hard he is right now.

"So fucking gorgeous," he mutters as his kisses trail down your neck. He undoes your bra with one hand and you brace yourself for impact, dying to feel his mouth on your newly-exposed skin.

You would never have expected his skin to be so soft. His hands are calloused and he has wrinkles between his eyebrows, but his broad shoulders are perfectly smooth. You feel like apologizing preemptively for the marks you might leave.

But Javi flips you onto your back and you see a flash of hunger in his eyes. He's wanted this for a long time too.

"When you were moaning for me earlier, I couldn't stop wondering if that's what you'd sound like if I touched you like this."

'Like this' means one hand slipping into your panties and playing with your clit while the other thumb runs over your nipple. You take a sharp inhale of breath and try not to moan loudly but end up letting out a whimper that must sound awfully pathetic.

"Even prettier," he says, as his voice gets further away and you realize he's getting on his knees.

You must be dead. You must've died at that party because this is too perfect to be true.

He places gentle kisses on the inside of each of your thighs before slipping off your panties.

"Javi." Breathy and urgent, it’s an admission of your arousal.

"Querida?"

Your voice trembles as you tell him the secret you've been keeping. "When I was 'acting', I had to stop myself from saying your name."

"You were such a good girl."

His lips ghost over your clit before he presses a light kiss to your skin. You're so desperate you could cry. You let his name slip out now that you're alone.

"You're still a good girl."

One finger slips inside you like a reward and his tongue circles your clit. You swear he can hear your thoughts - "I'm sorry I pulled a gun on you earlier when you called me that. You make me feel flustered all the time, so much that you piss me off". He groans into your core as if to say, "It's okay. I already knew that".

But then your brain turns to mush and all that's left is, "Javi, Javi, Javi." And his response is to put your legs over his shoulders and slip another finger inside you. He can tell you're struggling against the pleasure, gripping his bedsheets in a desperate attempt to avoid tugging his hair. His unoccupied hand finds one of yours, coaxing you into holding it. The tenderness only heightens the pleasure.

"I know, cariño, just let go for me. I've got you."

The safest you've ever been is with Javi next to you. Safe enough to keep you alive, safe enough for you to cry out his name without fear. You come down from the most intense orgasm of your life, panting with Javi's hands stroking your sides before lifting your legs so he can climb into bed beside you.

Without a thought left in your head, your eager hands reach for the button of his jeans, but he stops you. "Are you sure about this?"

"Of course. I'm in your bed, aren't I?"

"But your legs are shaking, querida. You need a minute to relax."

"I want you."

"I'll still be here in five minutes."

He comes back with water and a condom and you understand why women sleep with him.

He bargains with you - you drink some water and he takes his pants off. He doesn't intend to make a show of it, but you marvel at his body, now fully on display in front of you. The dryness in your mouth reminds you of the cold glass in your hand, which you down, equal parts nervous and aroused at the sight of his cock.

Javi notices the genuine concern in your eyes – surely women have looked at him with the same hesitant desire. In response to the unspoken, he strokes your cheek with a sweetness that makes you blush. "We'll go slow."

He sinks into you slowly, incrementally. His length strokes a particularly sensitive spot inside you that makes your walls tighten around him, and you can feel his hips jerk in response, self-restraint wavering as he holds himself back from fucking you roughly.

Once he bottoms out, he stops and lets you savor the feeling of being full. His lips still red and puffy from their time spent between your thighs, find yours and he kisses you with a fervor that cannot be sustained when you're both breathing so heavily.

"Javi, I need you," you whine.

"You have me."

"I need you to f–" he starts thrusting in and out of you while you speak, forcing you to cut yourself off with a moan.

The way he groans is gorgeous. He sets a steady pace and gets lost in the feeling. The urge to be closer to you takes over and he has you sitting in his lap within seconds. His hands cup your ass and allow him to move you as he pleases.

Your words in his ear are less than coherent when you bury your face in his neck. His teeth graze the skin on your shoulders and in the back of your mind you know you should worry about the marks he might leave, but the desire to be his, to remember that you had something even for a moment overtakes you. So, you throw your head back and give him access to a greater expanse of your skin.

Arousal fills you with a jolt of energy, giving you a boost in stamina, and you leverage yourself on Javi's shoulders and take over the work of sliding his cock between your wet folds, hips erratic and faltering.

You don’t need to tell him how close you are, he can tell. He’s seen you cum before, he’s tasted it.

"Me too," he says. It's more intense than the first one - you keep your eyes open with sheer willpower because you need to know what he looks like when he cums. There's a fair chance you won't see him like this again and you need to keep his beautiful 'o' face in your spank bank.

But what slips from his lips is not a string of curses or a wordless groan, but your name. It sounds even better when you hear it again during round two, and even better when it follows ‘good morning’.

#javier peña #javier peña smut #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos

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hannieehaee · 10 months

Text

18+ / mdi

content: fratboy!mingyu, same couple as this fic (can be read as a standalone tho), established relationship, mingyu is whipped as per usual, wonwoo's mentioned to be reader's brother, afab reader, smut, soft sex, riding, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1459

a/n: was so happy to hear ppl liked this couple :D here's a link to the main fic! i'll periodically write more lil drabbles for them so if u have any ideas my asks are open <3

masterlist

"g-gyu! i have to go. i cant keep being late!", you whined at him as he nuzzled his head into your neck, kissing and nibbling at the sensitive skin there.

it was yet another night you'd spent over at mingyu's frat. you were currently in bed with the man, pinned down by his strong arms.

despite having shared rooms with wonwoo before, mingyu had made a case to allow for him and wonwoo to have separate rooms, arguing that they'd been members of the frat for over a year by now and deserved some privileges due to seniority. fortunately for mingyu, his insistence was not met with much pushback, leading to wonwoo moving his things out and into one of the empty rooms in the frat about a week later. what the rest of frat members hadn't known however, was that mingyu's insistence was born purely out of his need to sneak you into his room night after night without having your brother get in the way.

he continued kissing at your neck without a single care in the world, still holding you against him, "baby, it's fine. i used to skip my freshman year all the time. they won't miss you."

"gyu! i wanna keep my gpa, ive been late three times this week. i'll be back in an hour, just be patient," you managed to unwrap yourself from him and wobble your way up, legs still weak from last night.

he dramatically groaned, allowing his back to flop onto the bed, "why do you hate me?"

jesus, he was so dramatic.

you sighed to yourself and approached him again, pulling at his hands to get him to sit up again. he let his body be limp, causing him to end up leaning against you once you'd pulled him all the way up. he took advantage of the angle and wrapped his arms against you once more, not pulling you against him this time but still keeping a light hold on you.

"stop being dramatic! we had sex last night! we'll have sex again today! just wait for me to get back, okay, baby?"

he chuckled at this, leaning up once more to try and kiss at you, "is it bad that i want you, baby?", he was teasing you, you could tell, "i've only had you to myself for a month. can you blame me for wanting you every day? i waited for years to have you, remember?", with this, he began to pull you towards him, easily getting you to straddle his legs on the bed.

"of ... of course not," you sighed out as his kisses became more and more sensual, now running his hands up and down your bare back.

you were too weak for him. you'd only managed to get off the bed for a few seconds, not even getting a single article of clothing on before he got you right back on his bed.

"so you'll let me take care of you, right baby?", he breathed against your ear, placing a playful bite on it as his hands lowered and lowered until landing on your ass, groping and toying with it. he instigated you, encouraging you to begin grinding against him at a slow and sensual tempo. everything felt slower in the early hours of the morning.

this was a common occurrence for you two ever since you'd first confessed your feelings for one another a little over a month ago. he'd expressed to you how badly he'd wanted you for years, knowing you'd only recently began to like him and wanting to give you time to process your feelings before confessing. but once you'd confessed, it led to endless time together. you were even more attached to the hip than you'd been as best friends, if that was even possible. with full support from both wonwoo and all your friends, you and mingyu had become inseparable, leading you to spend most of your nights being snuck into mingyu's frat.

you'd grown thirsty for each other, having had to hold back on your desires for each other for too long before growing to desperate and resulting in the night mingyu finally had you in his room a month ago. ever since then, mingyu had insisted on keeping you to himself day after day, just like last night, when he'd insisted you stay over (again) after having fucked you into the mattress late into the night.

the issue was, mingyu was a bit insatiable. even after that first night, even after being caught by wonwoo immediately after, he had insisted on fucking you again in the morning. just like now, as he managed to get you on your back again, legs spread as he laid his weight on top of you and ground his bare length against your folds.

you whined at him, wanting more than just friction. if he was gonna keep you from going to class, the least he could do was actually fuck you. you somehow managed to flip the gigantic man over (ok, he mightve let you do it ..), positioning yourself on top of him before lowering yourself on him.

"fuck! yeah, baby, that's it. such a good girl ..." he groaned upon feeling your walls close up around him. "gonna imprint my dick in you, baby. keep you all to myself," one thing about mingyu was his constant need to whisper filthy things in your ear as he made your eyes roll back.

he quickly took control of your hips, holding them down whenever he wanted to cant his hips upwards against yours, or sometimes simply guiding your hips to allow you to grind your clit against him at a speed that made your toes curl.

"g-gyu! shit! just like that!"

"right there, pretty? shit, is that the spot?", he took your whines as confirmation, beginning to ram his hips into yours even faster, lowering his hand between both of you in order to toy with your clit.

you threw your head back, feeling lightheaded at the way in he covered all bases of your pleasure, not only hitting your g spot consistently but also rubbing your clit at a tempo that had all air leaving your head. he was even at some points alternating between sucking your tongue into his mouth and lowering his head to lick and bite your boobs. in the very short period of time you'd been dating, mingyu had figured out everything you liked. every weak spot, he had dominated, knowing what brought you pleasure even better than yourself.

"'m gonna cum, fuck! don't stop!", you knew he didn't need any warning with how familiar he was with your body, but you just couldn't help but be vocal when around him.

"i know, pretty. cum for me, yeah? want you gushing all around me- shit! then ... then im gonna fill you up like a cute lil creampie. okay, baby?" he said this as he felt you tighten around him, a clear tell that you were seconds away from reaching ultimate bliss.

your orgasm triggered his, making him bury his head in your chest as you rode your high still tightly wrapped around him. even when you tried to unglue yourself from him, he kept you shoved against him for a few more seconds, lightly grinding against you for some extra stimulation despite how sensitive you both were after yet another intense orgasm shared between the two of you.

"shit .. it was worth it, wasn't it?", was his immediate response to you finally catching your breath.

"you're gonna make me flunk out of college," you deadpanned, not serious at all.

"good. that way i can keep you he-"

"can you guys shut the fuck up? i'm still sharing a wall with you, jesus christ," the sound of banging against the wall had interrupted you, wonwoo's voice cutting through.

the both of you remained silent for a minute, staring at each other with wide eyes.

"dude! you didn't tell me wonwoo was staying right next door!", you whisper-shouted, embarrassed your brother might've heard you.

"i didnt know he could hear us!", he whispered back. he got up and stuck his ear to the wall before speaking up again, at full volume this time, "how much did you hear?"

wonwoo waited a beat or two before you could hear his response through the wall.

"i put on my headphones every time i see you sneak her in. just go to her dorm, for fuck's sakes."

well, so much for not getting caught sneaking into the dorm past the allowed visitation hours.

mingyu hummed at this, turning to speak to you now.

"he kinda has a point, baby. how come i haven't fucked you in your dorm?"

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #seventeen #svt #svt x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen scenarios #mingyu smut #svt scenarios #mingyu fic #mingyu imagine #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu oneshot

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roguelov · 1 year

Text

All Work, No Play

Summary: After another mission, you returned back to Miguel. Yet, he paid little mind to you, focused solely on his work. Soon, your mind wandered to all your times together and you quickly craved him. Miguel, however, being stubborn and busy as per usual would not budge. So, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

Word Count: ~3.9k

Reader: Afab (no fem pronouns used/ reader described as beautiful)

Warnings: SMUT (thigh riding, oral (fem!receiving and male!receiving), cockwarming, dirty talk, edging, riding, unprotected sex, mainly dom!Miguel, creampie, begging, a little biting and blood), some fluff also sprinkled throughout, established relationship

Based of my post here

MINOR DNI/18+ ONLY

Another anomaly.

Another mission.

Another universe saved.

You should be thrilled, or at least pleased with the work you have accomplished. Yet, all you wished was to go back to Spider HQ and collapse.

Or more specifically, you wanted to collapse into someone’s arms.

Opening a portal, you stepped through with the tied up anomaly in tow. You almost relaxed hearing the cacophony of chatter from all the other spider people. It was strangely homely, if not comforting to see others similar to yourself. A few approached - the ones you called to tell of the anomaly you were bringing back - and swept up the anomaly to be sent back to their own universe. You thanked them and headed straight to the one person who ran this entire operation: Miguel O’Hara. His office was up ahead, and a place few willingly entered without explicit permission.

Walking down the hall and passing all the machines and discarded work, you glanced up to see the high platform in the air with a dozen or so monitors. You don’t announce yourself. You fired a web, swinging up. Your feet landed quietly, stealthy, onto the platform. But, you knew he sensed your presence. The man leaned forward in his chair, tapping away at the holographic monitors. News feeds, reports, surveillances of other universes, cases of anomalies, all of it zipped by.

“Good job today,” he muttered, still distracted by what was in front of him.

Pulling off your mask, you walked forward and leaned your hip against the edge of the massive desk. “Yeah, well after fighting so many Green Goblin variants you start to understand their patterns a bit.”

His dark crimson eyes peered over at you. He hummed, and nodded once. He glanced back to the screens, obviously more interested with his work than this basic conversation.

It stung, just a little. You quickly pushed down those bitter feelings, this was truly nothing new. However, this gave you an opportunity to drink him in. And most of all, to let your thoughts wander for a brief moment.

“Miguel,” you moaned, tugging on his dark locks.

He chuckled, lifting his head from in between your legs. His mouth coated in your juices. He rested his cheek on your bruised thighs, smirking up at you with such mischief and adoration in his glowing crimson eyes.

“Yes?” He murmured, and pressed endearing butterfly kisses on your thigh.

You groaned at his antics. You yanked on his hair, directing him towards where you needed him most. He laughed again.

“Oh?” His hot breath on your dripping core made you instinctively buck your hips towards his wondrous mouth. His hands curled around your hips and forced you back down into the bed. “Talk to me, cariño. Hmm? What do you want?

“Are you even listening to me?”

You snapped out of your thoughts. Blinking, you hummed confused, “What?”

Miguel sighed, heavily, “Never mind, we can discuss it later.”

He shook his head, and returned to his work. You, however, stood staring. Almost hungrily. When was the last time anyway? A month? Longer? You both have been so busy lately. You peered down at the hallway and entrance of the office. No one was coming, and no one could truly sneak up the two of you if -

“Is there something else you need?”

Your eyes snapped back over to him. He didn’t look at you, but his question lingered in the air.

There was.

There was indeed.

“Miguel,” you began, stepping towards him.

Internally, he groaned. He knew that tone. And now was certainly not the time.

“No,” he quickly answered.

“Come on, Miguel,” you complained. You wanted to collapse into someone’s arms, and why not make it more fun while you were at it. Why not find a wonderful way to distress? “A quickie before anyone notices.”

“Later,” he muttered, still typing away at screens and reviewing reports.

Later?

You huffed, crossing your arms. Your lips thinned, very obviously annoyed. Later, it was his new favorite word. But, you wouldn’t take ‘no’ or ‘later’ this time. No more excuses. And luckily, you didn’t have to dwell long before an idea struck. One to satisfy yourself, and to get underneath his skin.

Just as he has with you.

A win win.

In a flurry of movements, you quickly straddled his lap, completely unbothered by his minor protests. His chair rolled back as he glared up at you. He was ready to argue, ready to throw you off. But, your next words intrigued him enough to pause momentarily. You leaned in closely, and whispered sultry, “If you won’t, then I will.”

You positioned yourself over one of his massive thighs. He knew exactly what you were doing now. And oh, he would not cave so easily.

Or so he told himself.

Your hands rested on his shoulder. You blocked out the screens and forced him to look at you, forced him to acknowledge you and your needs after so long. You rolled your hips, and purposefully let out an outrageously pornographic moan. His hands balled up into fists at his sides.

Two could play at this game, he thought.

His jaw clenched. He would work, and work he did. He would not let you win. But, god he was starting to crave you. His thoughts were now being dragged through a lustful haze.

He ran this thumb over your bottom lips, pushing your mouth apart. “Just like that,” Miguel praised you as he slipped his cock inside your mouth.

He sighed deeply, dropping his shoulders.

On your knees, you slowly bobbed your head. Your hands wrapped around his thighs to steady yourself. One of his hands rested on top of your head, guiding you. It was a soft, easy pace.

A slow build up.

You glanced up at him. His head was tipped back, looking up at the ceiling. His mouth was agape as soft moans tumbled out. Sweat beaded across his forehead. A few of his dark curls clung to his sculpted face. Sensing your gaze, his head dropped forward as he smiled lovingly down at you. His hand moved from the top of your head to your cheek.

You, on the other hand, shared a darker look, a more devious one. Before Miguel could ask, you moaned loudly, sending waves of pleasant vibrations and instantly picking up your pace. He hissed out. Almost doubling over, he braced his forearm onto the nearby wall.

“Ah,” he groaned as a string of curses spilled out of his lips in Spanish.

You smiled to yourself, taking such pride in rendering Earth 2099’s Spiderman into a babbling mess.

“Oh my god, just like that,” he moaned. “Please, don’t stop.”

You grinded down, and moaned unabashedly.

A vein nearly popped in Miguel’s forehead.

You bunched up his suit, and quickened your pace. Your wall fluttered around nothing, begging to be filled. You needed him, but you wouldn’t say that.

Both of you were a bit too egotistical at times. This being one of them.

His teeth grinded together as he listened to you, to your growing heavy panting. He relented somewhat. One of his hands rested your hip - his talons poked at you - as he very gently followed your movements. Your forehead rested onto his shoulder as you whined desperately and so closely to his ear. All to just tease him further.

God, how could he focus? How could he work now?

Your soft moans and cries, your panting, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your obvious attempt to finish as you sped up but can’t quite reach it, it all riled him up. It all went straight through him. The bulge in his suit became more and more apparent with every agonizing second.

Fine, he thought.

He clenched his thigh.

You immediately gasped, “Miguel.”

You had finally won.

He finally caved.

He instantly turned his head, burying his face into your neck. His hot breath on your already flushed skin made you shiver. His lips teasingly brushed over your neck then began to place sloppy kisses up and down. Both of his hands now forcibly grabbed your hips as you continued to rock back and forth. He yanked you harshly forward, setting a new brutal pace.

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “Let me help.”

“Now?” You breathed out. It was a jab at him, even though you were unbelievably grateful right now. He grinded you down on his thigh, and you squirmed. “Now, you want to help?”

“Would you like me to stop?”

“God, no.”

He smirked to himself, “Good.”

Yes, you had finally enticed him. You had also awakened something else in him - that familiar sinister fiend.

“Take it off,” he whispered.

“What?” You barely registered his words. All your focus was on the overwhelming relief you were now feeling as well as the knot forming in the pit of your stomach. You hissed. His talons started to bury further and further into your hips and thighs. Such pain brought such sweet, undeniable pleasure.

“Your suit. Take it off.” He repeated a little more sternly in your ear. His lips skimmed over your neck again. “Or I could rip it off -“

“Don’t you dare,” you huffed. This was your only spare left.

“Then take it off.”

His grip loosened.

Fine.

Unzipping the suit, you quickly stood up, shucking off everything, and leaving nothing behind. Miguel, however, only removed the lower half of his suit. Whatever tech he wore allowed such privileges. You wanted to complain, you wanted to scoff. Yet, it was all silenced.

His cock sprung out, the swollen tip leaked with precum.

Your heart leapt up into your throat, and you shivered in delightful anticipation. Not to mention, how your eyes drank in the happy trail which followed up his abdomen.

After so many times, it still all excited you.

“Come here,” Miguel sweetly whispered, almost too sweetly. He had a plan for you. One you happily ignored. He reached out, grabbing your hips guiding you back to him. You clambered back into the chair, straddling him.

His thumbs soothingly rubbed at your hips. He stared up at you with a small smile on your lips. You had mistaken his smile for kindness, it was utterly devious. His eyes blazed with a certain sinful lust. The tip of his cock teased your entrance. You whined softly, then viciously dug your nails into his shoulders. “Miguel, I swear to -“

“Shhh,” he purred, and kissed your neck. “All will be better soon, cariño. But, let me have my fun … just for a little bit.”

Another mistake on your part.

You just nodded.

You needed this desperately. But, he possibly needed this more. He simply didn’t realize it until you were in his grasp again.

He groaned, slowly bringing you down. Inch by sweet delicious inch, he stretched you out. With your head still resting on his shoulder, you could look down and have the perfect view as he filled you completely.

Fuck.

Bottoming out, he slowly rolled his hips, sending a small wave of pleasure through you. Your eyes fluttered closed as you sighed in delight. His fang now protruded, grazing over your neck. You lolled your head to the side. He smirked. He licked up your neck, and nibbled on your ear. “You are going to pay dearly for what you did.”

You opened your mouth, a retort was ready to leap off your tongue. His hands then wandered up. His talons softly scratched across your back. You shivered, and hummed instead. The faint touches over your needy skin sent dizzying spells through you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, flushing you to his broad chest.

His lips brushed by your ear, “So impatient.”

You let out an airy laugh. You lifted your head, staring directly into his intimidating crimson eyes. “You’re right.”

You bucked your hips. He groaned, burying his face back into your neck. Your fingers tangled into his dark hair. You tried to lift your hips, tried to get more friction. But, his hands flew down keeping you in place. He chuckled darkly. He slowly kissed your neck, a sweetness despite the words that soon followed. “Oh, no. You have to sit here.”

He scooted his chair forward with you still in his lap. Your back bumped into the desk. You squirmed, wishing for some relief. But, it would not come. At least not now. One of his arms locked around your waist, easily keeping you in place as the other began to tap on screens.

“I think it’s time for you to learn some patience,” he hummed into your neck with a wide, devilishly smirk.

“Miguel, you can’t be -“

He instantly clamped a hand over your mouth. Staring directly into your eyes, he leaned in closely, and almost snarled. “Patience and silence.”

You had to bite back a snide remark. You wanted to get under his skin again, you wanted to get more of a rise out of him. But, you also wanted relief.

As if knowing of your impending comeback, he dipped his head, whispering in your ear, “Maybe if you let me finish my work, there might be a reward.”

His hand fell from your mouth, your pouty lips, and rested on your hip again. His fingers dug into you: a final warning to stay perfectly still.

“So, can you behave for me?” He asked, clearly amused by all of this.

You gritted your teeth, and opened your mouth. He bucked his hips upwards. All the words died. A moan fell out of your lips instead. He chuckled, and lightly smacked your hip, “Good.”

Your silence was now taken as obedience.

He turned his attention back onto the multiple screens and went back to work.

Minutes crawled by. Maybe an hour? Maybe it was only seconds? You clung to his body fiercely like it was the only life preserver left in this sea of torment. Sweat broke out across your forehead. You buried your face into his shoulder, panting. The clicks, and beeps, of the screens couldn’t drown out your desperate noises. The hums, the whines, the moans, you were becoming so vocal. Any slight movement - whether intentional or not - sent jolts of pleasure through you.

Yet, it wasn’t enough.

Even if you tried to move, Miguel’s grip was ironclad. One twitch and you were met with a tsk of disappointment followed by a snarky remark along the lines of ‘the more you move, the more I work’ or ‘relax, patience is often the best reward’.

And if you had any comment at all, he silenced it before you could utter a single letter by giving you just a minor taste of relief. He would buck or roll his hips, or grind you down further on him.

By the end, however long it was, you were a complete mess and slumped heavily into him. Most of your fight had worn out.

Soon, his fingers sneakily moved across your stomach. You tensed. Dipping lower, they found your sensitive little bud. You gasped, and moaned. His fingers slowly circled around your clit, just teasing you more and more. You bit the inside of your cheek hoping to prevent all the insane pleas that were ready to crawl out. You were so sensitive and so needy. Your walls clamped down around him, aching for more.

He groaned at the sensation, “Oh, I want to fold you over this desk.”

You shuddered in excitement. “Then do it,” you taunted, despite your incredibly shaky voice.

“No.”

You whined, “God, you are so annoying sometimes.”

“And so are you.”

You swore under your breath. He was so infuriating, so annoying, and still somehow so unbelievably gorgeous. If you had any less of a spine, you would let him get away with so much more. But, just how he teased you, you equally loved to return the favor.

You thought today was your turn, but you underestimated him.

“God,” you mumbled. You started to kiss his jaw, trying to soften him up. “Just fuck me already.”

His fingers pulled away from your clit, and you almost wanted to cry. Chuckling, his lips brushed over your ear and teasingly asked in a low seductive voice, “Aw, qué pasa, cariño?”

“You are the worst,” you groaned, half heartedly.

He smirked. Your words and how your body reacted were always at odds. “I am? Says the one who strolled in here asking for it.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” you hissed.

He rolled your hips, and you instantly moaned. “Oh, but you love it,” he hummed. “Don’t you?”

No response.

“Aw, no witty comeback? No attempts to bruise my pride? Or to simply irritate me?” He looked into your eyes, seeing your obvious and desperate want. “Maybe you have finally learned some patience.”

Your heart soared. You didn’t dare say yes or nod your head in fear of more sinister tricks. You could be here for another hour if he so wished.

He slowly rocked your hips, giving you just a bit more friction. That small simple movement was downright hypnotic. “Just say please for me, okay? Dame uno por favor, sí?”

Your head tipped back as you sighed blissfully. You didn’t hear him. Or you willfully ignored him. He quickly grabbed your chin, yanking you forward.

“Ah, let me hear it.”

Normally, you would fight. Yet, you were at your wit’s ends. You instead melted into him, gazing longingly into his eyes. You conceded. “Please,” you whispered very softly.

“Más fuerte. Say it louder.”

“Please,” you begged. You cupped his face, bringing him closer. You peppered kisses all over his face and continuously said ‘please’ after each one. “Please, I need you.”

He hummed, “Perfect.”

Grabbing the back of your neck, he kissed you passionately. His tongue slipped inside without warning, swirling around and drawing out more desires. You moaned unapologetically into him. With inhuman strength, he easily picked you up, laying you across the desk. All the holographic screens disappeared. He attacked your lips with a ferociousness, one you had experienced time and time again. And yet it continued to leave you breathless. Pulling away, his sharp teeth tugged on your bottom lip, and drew out a small spot of blood.

He smirked down at you, at your droopy lust filled eyes. His thumb grazed over your now swollen lips and wiped away the dot of blood. “Qué hacer contigo? Hmm? Should I really give you what you want?”

Your hands curled around to the back of his neck, drawing him back down. You gently pecked his lips. A tiny plea, and almost a small apology for starting this. “Please,” you begged again quietly against his lips.

His hands traveled down your body, latching back onto your hips. “Why can’t you be this nice all the time?”

“You love it, though,” you smirked a little, tossing his same words back at him. “You like when I’m annoying you.”

“Perhaps.” He pulled out, before forcibly slamming once into you. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan. “But, I do like when I’m able to silence that pretty mouth of yours.”

After so long, he pounded into you. Mercilessly. You arched your back, and wrapped your legs around his waist. You had driven him insane since your little stunt, he had his fun, and now he was going to take everything you gave him. He would have you crying, and whining on his cock. He would have you begging nonstop. He would have you cumming again and again if he so pleased.

You kissed him messily again. Tongue and teeth clashed. You bucked your hips, matching his mind numbing pace. You wouldn’t last long. You could feel the knot ready to burst, but you didn’t want this to end. Breaking apart, catching a fleeting breath, you moaned as his cock easily split you open.

He growled, rutting into you like a feral animal.

But, then something snapped in him.

This wasn’t enough for him.

He lifted you up off the desk, holding your waist. Bucking his hips upward, and lifting you up and down, while also using the help of gravity, you were being slammed tirelessly on his cock.

“Fuck, Miguel.” You clawed at his shoulders.

His cock kissed new places you didn’t think was possible. You nearly went limp in his grasp, like a rag doll. It was all so delicious, all so wonderful, and oh so sinful. The wet sounds of his cock slipping in and out, the slapping of his hips against you, his soft moans and hisses of pleasure, it all added to this building sensation - the impending euphoric crash.

Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t last long now in this new position.

“Miguel,” you moaned. “I’m about to -“

“I know, I know,” he murmured into your neck. He nipped and sucked at your tender neck. Your walls fluttered around him. God, it drove him nuts. You felt amazing, heavenly even. “Cum for me, carñio. Please, I want to see it.”

You tried to help, tried to grind on him or buck your hips. But, you were at his mercy. He was relentless. And god, you loved it. You were happily bouncing on his cock as he used and abused you.

“Fuck,” you moaned again.

You were so close.

“Come on,” he hissed. “Let me see it.”

You clashed your lips to his. It was sloppy. Your legs tightened around him, as if needing him closer. As if he wasn’t already buried deeply inside of you. Miguel moaned. He slammed you back down, and rolled your hips.

That was it.

The knot snapped.

You moaned loudly into him, and you came around him. Miguel peppered kisses all over your face. “Ah, just like that. Oh, you are so beautiful.”

“Fuck,” you hissed as you began to work yourself back down from your high. You pressed your forehead against his. Breathing heavily, you whined softly he still continued to use you to reach his own end. It was all so much, and somehow not enough. Fuck, he truly was amazing. Looking into his eyes, you gently stroked his cheek and murmured tiredly, “Come on, Miguel. Fill me up. I want you to.”

Miguel moaned.

“Just like that. God, you feel amazing.” You hummed, playing with the ends of his hair on the back of his neck.

His talons dug into your hips, cutting them and bruising them. After a few more thrusts, he stuttered. Tumbling forward, he quickly set you down on the desk, his arms on either side of you as he finished inside of you. He stared deeply into your eyes, his pupil blown wide with an animalistic haze still behind them. Your combined breathing filled the space between you.

With your legs still around his waist, you jerked him closer. He hissed, still very sensitive. “Still want to go back to work,” you smugly asked.

He chuckled, then smiled at you. “Still have that mouth on you I see.”

“Oh, but you love it.”

His thumb - and with his talons still out - ran across your lip. “I do, and how about we continue this elsewhere. Maybe I can have it put to other uses.”

“Maybe if you beg nicely.”

His eyes lit with such passion at your lightning fast remark. His eyes flickered to your lips, smirking, “Hmm, maybe.”

You truly knew how to push him. God, he did love it. No, actually he just loved you.

#across the spiderverse #spider man across the spider verse #atsv #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel O’Hara x afab!reader #afab!reader #miguel o’hara smut #smut

2K notes · View notes

buckybabesonly · 2 years

Text

Protector

Summary: When Steve gets injured on the field protecting you, Bucky lashes out at you from fear of seeing you in danger, and jealously of Steve’s arms around you.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Avenger!reader, platonic Steve x Female!Avenger!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff (y'all know we only do happy endings here)

Warnings: Jealous Bucky, Bucky being slightly mean to reader out of over-protectiveness, minor character injury, I’m not very good at writing action scenes I apologize 🙇🏻‍♀️

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: My creative juices are floooowing lately! I have so many ideas saved in my drafts 😭 Please let me know if you liked this one!

"On your feet. Again." Steve’s voice was authoritative, demanding, as per usual. He gestured his hand at you as you lay on your back, skin gleaming with sweat.

You gave him a faux-scowl, the muscles in your legs shaking with exhaustion as you forced yourself to stand, hands bracing themselves on your knees.

"Wait. Need a breather," you said, shaking your head. Your hair was coming loose from your ponytail, and Bucky's fingers itched to neatly sweep the strands back from out of your face.

He watched silently from one side of the room, observing your sparring session with Steve. He was going pretty tough on you, though he told you it was for your own good.

"No breathers out in the field," Steve grunted, tackling you and practically tossing you over his shoulder, but with enough finesse so you landed safely on your butt.

"Hey!" you exclaimed loudly in shock. If you had been looking, you would have seen how Bucky reflexively half-rose from his perch, afraid that you had actually been hurt, until he saw the way you scrunched your nose in annoyance at Steve and bounced back on your feet indignantly.

"I was making a point -" Steve ducked to the side when you launched a fist towards his head, then threw out a sharp roundhouse kick. You just managed to graze the top of his hair, and he laughed jovially.

"Almost. Try again."

Bucky settled back in his seat, feeling slightly uncomfortable as he watched you throw yourself again and again at Steve. Especially when Steve's strong arm encircled your waist, the other one hooking itself under your thigh to throw you onto the ground once more.

He clenched his fist, wishing it was him with his hands on your body instead, and in an entirely different setting.

His excuse for being in the training room was to try and see where your weak spots were and offer you pointers, in hopes that you would improve your hand-to-hand combat. You were an excellent sharpshooter, and could easily defend yourself, but needed to work on your offensive attacks.

Lately, the idea of you attacking someone head on had been making Bucky feel uneasy. Which was ridiculous, since you were part of the team and it was literally your job, but he found that it was affecting his focus out on the field. He felt like he had a constant obligation to look out for you, to protect you.

It seemed like Steve shared the same sentiment. The super soldiers were both oddly protective over you, and it had actually been Steve's idea to up your training in recent months.

The way you moaned as Steve landed a punch in your abdomen made Bucky simultaneously want to rugby tackle his best friend to the ground, and somehow planted sinful thoughts in his head. He knew Steve would never hit you with full-force, however, and made himself to stay put.

"Rogers, I swear one of these days, I'm going to kick your ass," you groaned.

He laughed again, and you took the opportunity to exploit his distraction, using your position on the floor to knock his feet out from under him with surprising force. Your kicked his shins sharply, sending him on his knees, and lunged for him.

You had him on his back for once, finally, and you grinned triumphantly at Bucky. He was mildly perturbed at your position, semi-straddling Steve, but he managed to crack a smile.

Steve finally called it a day half an hour later, leaving you and Bucky alone in the room. You were humming to yourself, stretching out your limbs. Bucky didn’t miss the way you winced slightly.

“Does it hurt?” Bucky asked, tossing you a bottle of water.

“A little, but it’s alright,” you shrugged. You took a sip, eyes sliding over to his form. He was looking particularly handsome today in a pair of form fitting black jeans, heavy boots and his leather jacket zipped up around his torso.

God, this man could be wearing a garbage bag and you would be drooling. From the first day you met him, you had developed a crush on him, hooked by his ruggedly handsome looks and tough exterior. What really made you fall, however, was that surprisingly soft personality hidden underneath. He made you laugh, too, and you loved the way the corners of his eyes creased when he smiled at you. Bucky had easily stolen your heart.

Said heart was continuously fluttering nowadays whenever you were near him, like he was a silly teenage crush. You tried to play it cool.

“So, any tips?”

Soon, you were both grappling at each other playfully, peals of laughter leaving your mouth as you “fought”. Bucky was smiling that darn smile, looking almost childlike as you circled each other.

At some point you ended up on top of him, your hands around his wrists as you pinned them back. He could easily free himself, but he humored you.

“Hah!” you called out.

Bucky’s laughter subsided slowly as he took in the sight of you, panting on top of him. His eyes inadvertently fell to your cleavage, where the swell of your breasts was oh-so-visible from his vantage point, your skimpy tank top doing little to hide your skin.

Mortified, he felt a rush of blood to his groin. He knocked you off swiftly before you could feel anything which would reveal what a pervert he was, coughing loudly to hide his embarassment.

“That’s enough,” he said, surprising you with a change of tone. You felt a little disheartened at the switch-up, confusion settling in.

“Ah, okay,” you said, nodding. He was probably getting tired of your games, knowing how you didn’t like to take everything too seriously. Bucky mumbled something about going to take a shower before he excused himself and left.

Being an Avenger was always going to be life threatening. However, you could think of nothing else you'd rather be doing than fighting alongside your chosen family, trying to make your contribution to the world, even if it meant risking yourself.

You usually considered yourself a solid team player, trusting Steve to make the right call out on the field. Now, you weren't so sure, faintly aware that maybe, just maybe, you had screwed up. Especially in situations like these, lying on concrete with your ears ringing, the metallic taste of blood in your mouth.

Smoke and dust filled your sight. Your mind was scrambled, unable to comprehend what had happened. You couldn't see a thing, but you could feel the pain in your shoulder, and you wondered if you had dislocated it or worse.

The smoke cleared. All of a sudden, Bucky's face appeared, panic clearly written in his eyes.

The pieces were slowly coming together. You suddenly became aware that Steve was lying behind you, shield in hand and positioned above you. You could hear him groaning in mild discomfort. The clanging in your ears were subsiding so you could hear him and Bucky's shouting.

Your disorientation faded, and you realized what had happened. The explosion.

Four S.H.I.E.L.D agents had gone rogue and had secretly been working for HYDRA, who had been spending the past year regaining power and presence. You had been one of the people dispatched to take them down after the team received intel on the location of their base. They had been holed up in an underground bunker beneath an abandoned warehouse, the perfect spot for a group like them.

You weren't even supposed to be in that part of the bunker, but you saw an opportunity to breach their control room, where undoubtedly you would be able to find all sorts of valuable information about what HYDRA was planning, or what terrible projects they had ongoing. Unfortunately, they had been savvier than you thought, and had implemented a safeguard in the event of a security breach.

That safeguard, as it turned out, was explosives.

Steve had found you as soon as he was made aware of what you were doing, and he had appeared no more than 15 seconds before the bombs detonated. If he hadn't been around, you were almost certain you'd be dead.

You barely had time to register Steve's appearance before you suddenly found yourself flying off your feet, Steve a blur of blue as he re-positioned himself to protect you.

"...fuck, will you say something? Are you okay?"

Bucky was screaming in your ear, and you blinked, the haze finally clearing. Alarms were blaring, Steve was back on his feet, scooping you up with ease.

"We need to get back to the Quinjet," you heard Steve bark, and he began sprinting, jumping over rubble with you in his arms, Bucky following close behind.

As soon as you boarded the jet, Steve sat you down and ordered Bucky to tend to you. He was already kneeling at your feet and inspecting your injuries wordlessly. Steve swiftly geared the Quinjet to life, desperate to get them out of the area before anything else went to hell.

"Look at me," Bucky said sharply, his voice rough. You were startled at his tone, his hands brushing your hair back as he inspected your head for any serious injuries. Blood was trickling from your temples, but from what he could tell, they were only shallow cuts. "Where does it hurt?"

"I'm fine," you managed to say faintly, the reality of what had happened slowly sinking in. You had put all of them in danger because of your reckless actions, and Steve had actually been injured because of you. You could see the blood dripping off his fingers as he sat at the console, though from the way he handled himself you knew they could only be minor lacerations.

Your eyes landed on Bucky's face then, scanning him for any signs of injury. He seemed physically unharmed, but his face was bright red and he was shaking with rage as he spoke to you. You were ashamed, knowing that he was furious you put his best friend in danger.

“I told you to stay put,” Bucky snarled, slamming his hand against the back of your seat.

"I - I know," you stuttered, vaguely remembering Bucky's request in your earpiece just moments earlier.

“Why couldn't you just listen? You had to play the fucking hero?"

"Bucky, lay off of her." Steve's warning was stern, and Bucky shot a glare at the back of his head.

"No. She was being stupid," he spat, looking back at you. "What were you thinking? Were you even thinking at all?"

You bristled then, despising his patronizing tone. “You’re one to talk. How many times have you completely gone off script and blindsided us with your decisions?” As soon as the words left your mouth, you knew it was an unfair statement.

He scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't think you realize what could have happened back there."

You looked at Steve again, guilt consuming you. He was focused on operating the jet, and you knew that he hadn't been seriously hurt, but he could have been. Or, worse, Bucky could have been caught in the explosion. He was lucky not to have been there.

"I'm sorry," you began, but Bucky cut you off.

"You need to take this fucking seriously," he snarled. "You went marching in there blindly, and look what happened."

"I thought I might be able to get something useful," you said weakly.

"Look how well that turned out," he said sarcastically. "You blew everything up."

You recoiled, hurt. You wondered if Bucky was actually upset that you had destroyed a valuable chance to get information on HYDRA. Though how were you supposed to know extracting the information would set off literal bombs? You had been acting quickly, wanting to get in and out. Maybe Bucky blamed you for destroying that chance.

"You can be so fucking stupid and selfish," Bucky exclaimed angrily, lashing out in full force. So reckless, doing whatever you wanted to do, without so much as a thought to how much potential harm you could be putting yourself in.

"That's enough," Steve shouted loudly, his voice angry and booming.

You flinched visibly, biting down hard on your lip to stop yourself from snapping back. Or worse, crying. Bucky walked over to the other side of the jet, away from you.

The feeling was awful. Your shoulder was burning, throat in pain from the smoke you had inhaled, and all Bucky had done was shout. It was surprising, how much your feelings hurt at his outburst.

Bucky was as tense as a statue. His mind was racing as he refused to look at you, thinking of all the worst possibilities. His heart felt as if it had literally skipped a beat the moment he saw you lying in the rubble, seconds after he'd heard the explosion and realized he could no longer hear you in his earpiece - there was a chilling moment amidst the action where he really, genuinely believed you had been killed.

Having you act so blasé about it after the fact infuriated him.

You, on the other hand, felt a heavy weight in your chest as you watched Bucky mutter to himself, the muscle in his jaw twitching. You felt so guilty, feeling so...incapable in Steve and Bucky's presence. Steve had been hurt because of you, and Bucky had every right to be mad at you. Nonetheless, his words cut you deeply.

Stupid and selfish.

The rest of the journey back to the compound was tense and silent. Bucky stared at the wall whilst you stared at the ground. As soon as the jet landed, Bucky stood up with full intention of hoisting you up against his chest to take you to the medical wing, but found Steve standing between you and him instead. Like a barrier, as if he wanted to protect you from Bucky's wrath.

"Let's get you checked out," Steve grunted, his arm once again around your damn waist as you stood.

Even though it was neither the place nor the time, jealously instinctively entered Bucky's bloodstream at the way you leaned on Steve. He wanted to be the one to take care of you, dammit, but all he had achieved was make you avoid his stare.

"Get her head checked out whilst you're at it," Bucky barked. "See if you can find out why she lost all her fucking common sense."

Tears sprang to your eyes when Bucky stormed off the jet, heading into the compound first. It hurt you more than you cared to admit that he hadn't even stayed to see if you were alright.

"He didn't mean that," Steve said quietly.

"He did," you retorted, wincing in pain as you experimentally moved your shoulder. "Shit."

"You alright?"

"Dislocated, I think."

Steve helped you to the medical wing, where you were promptly checked and - yep, dislocated shoulder. No other injuries though, thanks to Steve.

"You saved my life," you said gratefully as Steve stood beside you, wiping dried blood from his hands and face. "Thank you. I'm sorry, as well."

Steve's face was kind yet stern as he moved to stand in front of you. "No need to thank me. But yeah, the way you behaved was kind of reckless."

"I know."

He placed a heavy hand on your good shoulder, squeezing gently. "Get some rest, okay?"

"Do you think Bucky hates me?" you asked suddenly, looking up at Steve searchingly. "You know him best. Do you think he hates me now?"

Steve sighed loudly in a way that planted doubt in your mind despite his answer. "No, of course he doesn't hate you."

"I think he's at least annoyed that I risked your life," you mumbled.

"Okay, first of all, I've been in so many explosions that it's just a regular day at the office, now," Steve said, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Secondly, I think he's just annoyed that you risked your life."

You were dubious, thinking that Steve was just trying to placate you. You recalled how Bucky had glared at you before. If he actually cared, surely he wouldn't have just stalked off like that?

“I think my safety was the last thing on his mind.”

"Get some rest," Steve repeated. "Stop overthinking."

You nodded unconvincingly, all while your thoughts continued to be plagued by a certain dark haired, blue eyed man.

"She okay?" Bucky asked Steve the moment he saw him in the hallway just off the medical wing.

"You could ask her yourself, you know," he said, cocking an eyebrow. When Bucky didn't respond, he offered, "Dislocated her shoulder. Few cuts and bruised ribs. Otherwise, she's fine."

Bucky felt himself let go of a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He had inspected you pretty closely on the jet and was sure you had been fine, though he was annoyed he didn't realize your shoulder was hurt, however part of him was still fearful. To hear Steve confirm that you were mostly fine was a relief.

"Good," Bucky said brusquely. Steve tilted his head at him, observing his best friend with judgmental eyes. The silence between them spoke volumes. “Shut up," Bucky added.

Your shoulder had been easily maneuvered back into place, though you were confined into a sling and would be for the next few weeks, rendering you useless on the field. That, combined with the gnawing guilt of putting Bucky and Steve in danger, dampened your usually upbeat self.

After being discharged from the medical wing, you had retired to your bedroom and stayed there for the rest of the day. A few mornings later, you left your bedroom at the crack of dawn, startled to see Bucky already making breakfast in the kitchen.

"Oh. Hey," you said meekly, clearing your throat as you made your way to the coffee machine.

He had dark circles under his eyes, and you wondered if he had slept at all. His hair was disheveled, like he had been running his fingers through it, and he had stubble all across his sharp jawline.

Things were weird now after his tirade at you. You considered the two of you to be friends - very good friends, actually. In fact, you would be lying if you said you didn't have a deep-rooted hope that you might become more than friends. But, after Bucky's explosive verbal attack on you, you felt so small standing in front of him. You had avoided him for the past couple of days, afraid of any potential confrontation.

He thinks you’re stupid and selfish, you reminded yourself. Each time his words replayed in your mind, a fresh wave of pain hit you. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about how harsh he’d been for the past few nights whilst in bed, tears slipping down your face and onto your pillow as you tried to sleep.

Your gut twisted in discomfort. You liked Bucky so much, and his admonishing had crushed you somewhat. You wanted him to respect you, didn't want to disappoint him, but you had achieved the opposite.

You turned your back on him and poured yourself a coffee, knowing that if you looked at him for too long, you might start crying. His face was one that you used to love looking at, loved how affectionate he was when he spoke to you, but now you were just scared. You didn’t think you could take it if he snapped at you again.

"Are you okay?" He broke the silence first, and you wondered if he actually genuinely cared about the answer. You really weren’t sure anymore.

"I'm fine," you said, nodding and moving over to the pantry to try and find something to eat. You stretched up to the shelves with your good arm, fingers curling over a bag of croissants but not quite being able to reach.

You felt his presence behind you, his chest pressing against your back softly as he took the pastries down for you, setting them down on the counter.

Bucky watched when you stiffened slightly, and felt a heavy twinge of regret at how he had spoken to you that day. He was already feeling like an ass about it, but now he wondered if you were somehow frightened of him. He knew that he had crossed a line, said some pretty nasty things.

He stepped away from you, clearing his throat loudly to catch your attention. When you half-turned to face him, he spoke.

"Look, I'm sorry about what I said the other day. It was out of line."

He could only see your profile as you bit down on your lower lip, shrugging as if to say no big deal. From the way your eyes were darting about, Bucky could tell you were holding back on your emotions. "It's okay. You were right."

Bucky frowned, watching as you chewed on the inside of your cheek. "What do you mean?"

"What I did was stupid and selfish," you said, your voice quivering. Bucky's lips pressed into a thin line as you continued. "I wasn't thinking, and I put both of you in danger. I'm sorry. You have every right to be angry at me."

Realization hit Bucky like a freight train.

"Hey," he said gently, approaching you again, his hand awkwardly curling around your wrist. He could see your eyes beginning to well up. "Don't get upset." He tilted his head at you, trying to coax you to look at him.

"I'm not," you sniffed, blinking hard in an attempt to rid yourself of your budding tears.

"When I said you were stupid and selfish," Bucky winced at those adjectives now, "I meant I just felt you were stupid to put yourself in danger, and selfish because - well, you didn't even think about what it would do to me."

Your brow furrowed at Bucky's rushed explanation, looking up at him quizically. Your eyes were still glistening, and his heart ached.

"I don't understand."

Bucky made a slightly frustrated noise, releasing your wrist. He planted his hands on the kitchen counter instead, trapping you, your lower back pressed against the marble edge. He sighed loudly, making you swallow nervously.

"Bucky?"

"I care about you," he began, suddenly unable to articulate himself properly as he looked into your eyes. “A lot. As in, a lot."

"Oh-kay..." The syllables were long and drawn out. You were still nonplussed.

"No, you don't get it," Bucky said through gritted teeth. He cast his mind back to the events in the bunker, that same fear creeping into his system. "There was a second where I heard the blast, and I thought you were done for. I was terrified."

Bucky leaned closer, so close that his forehead was almost resting on yours. His eyes fluttered closed. It was easier if he didn’t look at you to voice his feelings.

"There was a very real moment where I thought I lost you, and it was horrible." The unspoken meaning hung in the air. I can't live without you.

His confession made your heart rise in your chest with surprise and disbelief.

"Oh, Bucky." The way you spoke his name made him want to hold you tight. "I had no idea you cared so much," you said softly.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, and they were anguished. "That's the problem. I'm so scared of showing you my feelings that you had no idea I care about you more than anything." He scoffed, shaking his head. "I don't know what I was so afraid of. The idea of you being hurt is infinitely more terrifying than telling you how much I really like you."

“I - really?” His words were black and white, but you were afraid to truly believe them.

“Did you know,” Bucky began, lifting his hand to brush his knuckles against your cheekbone, “how much I want to protect you? Keep you from harm? At first, I didn’t understand it, but then I realized that I was falling for you.” He took a deep breath. “It’s been so long since I felt anything like that for anyone, that I barely recognized what it was.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed down his nerves. He knew he had to tell you how he felt. The way you were gazing at him now in pure adoration was motivation enough.

“I want to be with you, as more than friends.” He let out a soft huff of laughter, like he was amused it had taken him so long to admit something so simple.

You lifted your hand to cup the back of his neck, feeling a renewed confidence and sense of happiness at his words.

“I should have told you long ago how much I like you, too,” you whispered. Bucky's chest swelled in happiness at your admission.

"Would it be okay if I kissed you?" he asked quietly, his eyes flickering down to your lips.

Your reply was to stand on your tip-toes so you could meet his mouth in a kiss, finally doing what you had wanted to do since the moment you met him.

#bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky angst #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fic #bucky fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky imagine #winter soldier

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strawberrytoki · 1 year

Text

Closer than anticipated

(Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: You and Spencer visit the unsub's suspected place of hiding to investigate, but his unexpected return forces the both of you into a cramped closet. The forced proximity then leads to an...accident.

Content: mentions of arousal, descriptions of murder

Word count: 1,247

a/n: I heavily imagined early seasons Reid for this one (specifically s2) Also this is heavily inspired from that one scene in teen wolf.

The clock's slender hands couldn't have been moving any slower, and the BAU's members couldn't have been more stiff with tension and anxiety.

The team had decided to send you and Spencer to Cedric Marlin's hideout, since you were both the BAU's most observant members, and the team needed every last bit of evidence to finally catch the criminal. He was the prolific eye-gouging unsub that the BAU was finally able to zero-in on after months of meticulous investigation. The team didn't want to make any arrests just yet, since they wanted a solid case, so you and Spencer were in charge of gathering as much evidence as you can.

The parameter was under surveillance by your fellow team members, and you and Spencer were treading lightly, slowly preparing yourself for whatever was inside this man's place.

You entered the premises, Spencer cautiously following suit. You immediately noticed that the house was dingy and damp, suiting its inhabitant. The stench of what you could only assume was rotting human flesh wafted throughout the house, causing both you and Spencer to physically recoil.

"We'll definitely find all the incriminating evidence we need in here." Spencer started making his way down the hallway, following the increasingly strong stench. He stopped at the entrance of the last room on the left and adjusted his glasses, mouth agape with a mixture of curiosity and shock.

You caught up to him, only to eventually mimic his reaction yourself.

"This must be where he keeps all his souvenirs." He inched closer to the stacked mason jars, filled with a preserving liquid and what you both concluded were the eyeballs of his unfortunate victims.

"unmatched depravity..." Spencer walked around the room in an attempt to find more evidence.

"Anything catch your eye?" You raised an eyebrow at him.

"Ha Ha." He sarcastically chuckled, a playful smile sneaking up on his face afterwards.

The investigation felt like a twisted game, each time one of you found a piece of evidence, the other would somehow find something to one-up the previous discovery in terms of depravity.

After what seemed to be hours of probing into this psychopath's lair, you and Spencer figured that you'd gotten everything you needed, and were about to head out. Just then, the sound of a cacophonous creak in the door sent a quick chill through both your spines. You knew it wasn't any of your teammates, since they wouldn't break protocol like that, and they didn't need to.

If there's anything this line of work has taught you, it's to always assume the worst case scenario. You were a realist, this was no gust of wind. It was him, and you both knew it.

You slowly craned your neck to Spencer, who appeared just as perplexed as you were. His mouth was agape and by the calculative look on his face, his mind was probably running at about a thousand thoughts per minute, trying to figure out a way to get both of you out of this mess unscathed.

You stealthily maneuvered around the room to get a proper perspective on the unsub, and Spencer was right behind you, his calm breath landing near your ear.

He slinged his plastic bag, that you did not want to know the contents of, on the kitchen counter. He had a leather eyepatch covering his left eye, and his clothes were covered in grime and reeked of filth.

Much to your horror, the unsub started making his way towards your location, and you needed to think fast if you didn't want your eye sockets to be what remains in your casket.

"We need to find somewhere to hide before he gets any closer." You faced spencer and slowly started backing away, a worrisome expression on your face. Spencer nodded and carefully followed suit.

You frantically looked around, knowing that the time you had to spare was decreasing by the millisecond. Finally, your eyes landed on a small closet near the corner of the room. The door looked like it was on it's last leg, but beggars can't be choosers. You quickly held Spencer by the wrist, yanking him forward. Both of you then squeezed into the cramped closet, and were facing each other. Neither of you dared let out a sound.

Spencer didn't seem all that uncomfortable, but you still tried to maintain as much space between the two of you, since you knew how he felt about physical touch.

Through the cracks of the closet door, Spencer saw the unsub pack a larger ice pick than what he usually used to disfigure his victims, and a bunch of other weapons. "This is a drastic change in MO, he's either evolving or this is his endgame..." you tried to fully process what he just said as you nodded in agreement, but the proximity was simply too distracting. However, you admired how observant he was even in times of stress.

A few minutes passed as the two of you were observing the unsub, just then, you felt something relatively hard poking you, and as the realization that Spencer had an erection dawned upon you, you felt the color leave your face.

You slowly lifted your face to face Spencer, and it looked like he'd rather be anywhere on earth but here. Even though the confined space was dark, you could tell his flustered face was as red as a tomato, and he was bent on avoiding eye contact.

"I'm...so sorry-" he blurted out.

"It's alright." you interrupted him. You tried to ease the tension by reminding yourself that he had no control over it, but that only did so much. "I'll just turn around." You then shuffled around the very limited space to face the front, with your back to him. At least then, you wouldn't have to face him.

"Uh...that's not helping." You both scratched your heads in frustration and confusion. This was clearly not the time and place for such a bodily reaction and you both knew it, but you couldn't help but get flustered over it as well.

You then realize that the unsub must've been hard of hearing, as there's no way he would've heard all the shuffling and not done a thing if he wasn't.

Just then, you felt your radio device turn on and couldn't be more relieved. It was Hotch trying to get an update, and you readily filled him in. It was only a matter of time before they entered the premises with the S.W.A.T team.

You then heard the door being broken off its rusty hinges, probably courtesy to Morgan, and judging by the altercation near the door, you concluded that the arrest has been made. You then felt yourself letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and pushed open the closet's door, feeling a welcoming, slight breeze of air.

Spencer then reluctantly faced you, his cheeks stained with an adorable shade of pink.

You decided to help him out a bit and break the ice.

"This wasn't how I imagined this investigation would go..." you awkwardly chuckled as you both made your way outside.

"No...me neither." He looked up to the sky, his eyes slightly squinting. He was probably just glad this was all over, for more reasons than one.

You, on the other hand, weren't planning on letting this go that easily, and were definitely planning on taunting him by bringing this incident up in case he ever got smug with you.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid blurb

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cry4mina · 1 month

Text

No Lights, Only Tzu

(Tzuyu x gn!reader)

Word Count: 8.8k

Summary: Staying late at the office on a Friday to finish a report your boss gave you last minute was annoying. Even worse, a massive storm is headed your way. This leads you to company you weren’t expecting and bonding you’ll never forget.

TW: Food mentions, kissing, small make out moment, cuddling and doggos.

A/N: Happy 5 Months to Cry4Mina! I can’t truly cannot believe it’s been 5 months since I started posting and it’s been insane for sure but I truly enjoy it so much and I appreciate you all taking time out of your lives to read the product of my brain rot! Lmfaooooo

Fluff is not my favorite thing to write but I did enjoy getting a little lost in this one. Per @ghostykapi saying “Gib” at the mention of wanting to write Tzuyu fluff lmaoooo

Bless and thank @raainberry and @myouicieloz for helping with names/titles/helping me not go insane while attempting the fluff 🖤

Thanks for reading!

As always, DMs and asks are always open! 🖤

The silence of the office is deafening, it’s late on a Friday night and of course you’d be stuck finishing a report that your boss had gave you at right before the day ended.

“Please, have this in my inbox by midnight, Y/n. It’s very important that we get this to the clients tonight.” mocking you boss’ voice and tone as you fill in the last two boxes with the research requested.

Glancing down at your watch, it reads 8:45pm, way too late to be in this grey washed building any day, let alone a Friday.

Phone on the desk, vibrating with weather warnings that you’ve been ignoring all day. Taking just a moment to check what all the interruptions were throughout the night.

“Thunderstorm warnings…great.” typing even faster, trying to beat the rain.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips as you finish crunching numbers and send the report off to the appropriate parties.

“Finally!” Exclaimed victoriously, arms shooting up over your head to celebrate being able to leave, happy to start your weekend but also worried about driving in the storm that was about to drench the town.

Packing up your stuff, meticulously placing everything scattered across your desk in your briefcase and grabbing your blazer, not even bothering to put it on, before basically running to the elevator and slamming the “down” button.

The doors slide open, you step over the threshold only to press “Lobby” three times rapidly not willing to wait for the elevator to register that you were in a hurry.

It’s time to get out of this building.

Tapping your foot, waiting for the doors to open again so you can make your way to your car. The ding like the start of a race, taking large hurried steps through the lobby of the building and waving to the receptionist on your way out.

Automatic doors robotically opening to reveal a stormy night sky. You can see the outline of the moon behind the threat of the downpour and the scattered patter of rain from the storm that was threatening to drench the town.

“It’s going to be a rough one! Be safe on your way home.” A small velvety voice softly rings out, stopping you from taking a step down the stoned staircase towards the parking lot.

Turning to see who it was, it was the girl from the 4th floor. Tzuyu. Leaning against the stone column and seemingly annoyed but cheery enough to greet you.

Grace displayed in every move she made as she toyed with her side bag, running her fingers through her hair nervously, her eyes scanning the almost empty parking lot and then immediately looking down at her hands still tinkering with the zipper.

Tall but delicate, her long dark pin straight hair framing her face perfectly before landing elegantly on her shoulders. The black trench coat she wore was left open, allowing her business professional outfit of a pastel pink silk blouse tucked into a pencil skirt to peak through.

A polite smile that dawned on her face when she realized you weren’t going to just walk past her and wave, causing a flutter in your stomach, which would have stopped you had you not already frozen in place by her siren voice.

No wonder everyone had an innocent work place crush on her.

But why was she waiting out front?

“Thank you…Tzuyu, right?….are you okay out here? It’s late…shouldn’t you be at home too?” looking back at the sky and gesturing out, referencing the storm about to unleash its wrath on the city.

“Well, I’ve been waiting for an Uber but they keep cancelling because of the…” mimicking your gesture in a dramatic fashion, “so I’m stuck here until someone accepts the ride.” Sighing in frustration.

“How long have you been out here?” Concern riddled in your voice.

“Three hours.”

“Three hours?!” shock apparent in your tone and the facial expression you displayed, eyes wide, mouth open and brows furrowed.

Thinking about how she was usually very quiet around the office, she never really said much to anyone but when she did, it was always sweet, kind, or witty.

“Do you…want a ride?” The offer sounds shaky but still meant whole heartedly, the glimmer in her eye tells you that she knows you mean it.

“Truthfully, I was going to just walk but I won’t say no if you’re offering.” Smiling back at you, the gratefulness present in her grin.

“Well it’s about to down pour, I can’t let you walk home like this. It’s also pretty late…so it’s not entirely safe for you to do that. Come on, let’s go.” Waving her over to you so you can make way to your car and opening your passenger door for her.

“Thank you…” softly spoken to you as you got into the other side and started the car.

—

As you follow your GPS to Tzuyu’s apartment, the sky opens up. The once withheld clouds releasing their tears, engulfing everything and much like eyes full of emotion, it makes it hard to see the road in front of you.

Thankfully, most cars were off the road, the highway barren in nature, only reflecting the rain splatter and the hazy lines that were supposed to divide the lanes.

White knuckling the steering wheel and leaning forward, you squint. The blur of the road is impossible to read and it’s starting to feel unsafe. Especially with a passenger present.

“Hey, Tzuyu. I’m going to pull over, I can’t see anything and it would be a little too reckless for me to keep driving in these conditions” Pressing the brakes slowly to ensure not to hydroplane, turning the blinker on and pulling off to the side of the highway.

Pressing the button for your hazard lights, you look over at her to see her fidgeting with her fingers again. She seems nervous in her mannerisms, though still very elegant in the way she manuvers- a loud crack of thunder startles the both of you.

Both wide-eyed, you can’t help but giggle at what’s just happened. She joins you in that and before you know it, you’re both cackling at each other’s reactions to the clap of thunder.

“So, Tzuyu.” looking over at her again.

“What are you up to this weekend?” Trying to make conversation with this pretty human you hardly knew in your passenger seat.

“Well, my parents were supposed to come into town this weekend but because of the storm, they’re staying home. So my plans are kind of ruined actually. It hasn’t been the best week for me.” There’s a hint of sadness being shielded in this response, you can see it in her eyes and hear it in the infliction of her words.

“I’m really sorry to hear that.” Not really knowing what to say next to help her feel better.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. I just don’t really get to see them often so I was really excited…” a beat of silence follows, she takes a deep breath and goes on.

“They’ll come another weekend, we just have to find one without a huge storm.” Chuckling at what she’s said and covering her mouth trying to mask the disappointment.

“Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be soon too! I’m sure they’re just as excited to see you.” smiling at her in an attempt to offer warmth to this borderline stranger.

“Thank you, Y/n. It’s really kind of you to say that.”

This is the first time you’ve really had a chance to see her, to really see her. Her doe eyes, shy smile, witty sense of humor that poked through momentarily before getting in the car, and the vulnerability she displayed…left you a little curious about who she is, what her personality would convey to you in this impromptu adventure you found yourself on.

“What about you?” Tzuyu’s calm voice snapped you out of the curious trance you were in.

“Oh! Uhm…well I was supposed to volunteer at the local animal shelter but given this storm going through Sunday evening, I don’t think I’ll be able to now.” a small sigh leaves your chest, you always did love volunteering and playing with the dogs, as you didn’t have one of your own.

“You volunteer too? Which one?!” the excitement that spreads across her face catches you off guard, sparking that thrill in your stomach again.

“The one off this exit, actually!” pointing to the sign a couple yards in front of you.

“That’s the one I volunteer at!” Tzuyu now beaming at you with admiration.

Blinking a few times, your stomach trembles in a way that was unfamiliar, at least in reaction to her. Sure, you thought she was beautiful, but you hadn’t really had any time to get to know each other aside from small greetings here and there. This was the first time you really had a chance to speak with her.

Heart beating a little faster as you watch her remove her jacket, revealing toned arms, and place it over her lap so she can rotate in the passenger seat to face you. Leaning back against the door and getting comfortable, she catches you looking at her.

The blush that washed over her cheeks flustered you, a warm boil in your stomach overturning all other emotions, a glimmering shimmer ascended from your bones that soaked into your muscles, causing them to tense and contract under the curiosity you had for the beautiful woman sitting in front of you.

Tzuyu giggled at your react, seeing your face turn red and you look down to avoid her eye contact.

A small rumble interrupted the attempted transformation into awkward silence. Grabbing your stomach realizing you hadn’t eaten since before you clocked in, at 8am. Looking down to view your hand shielding your torso, your eyes raise to Tzuyu, who was smiling back at you with her hand covering her mouth, covering the expression that was still being screamed through the her eyes.

“I’m hungry myself. There is a 24 hour diner around the corner from the shelter. Do you want to try to make it there? I bet they’re open.” repressing a giggle before looking down to try and keep her composure.

“We might be able to make it there.” clicking the hazard buttons off and carefully pulling onto the highway again, making sure to carefully steer and keep a moderate speed that wouldn’t be too dangerous.

—

The bell on the door jingles abruptly, startling the hostess who fell asleep at the podium, unwilling to blame her for the snooze. Rain always makes you tired and it’s not like the place is lively. Empty seats fill the room, so does the horrid song from the early 2000’s playing in the background.

Dripping wet from running from the car, you look to your right and see Tzuyu standing there, completely soaked. Curling up into her self to try and preserve some body heat, it would seem.

“Table for two, please” the hostess looks at you, then Tzuyu, then back at you and just nods her head, grabbing two menus and setting off to the first table next to her. She placed them at the table before silently walking back to the podium and sitting down again.

You pull the chair out for Tzuyu, this catches her by surprise and she thanks you graciously. Heart soaring as you find your seat across from her. She looks down at the menu, blinks a few times, and then scoots it off to the side.

“I know what I’m going to get, what about you?” curiosity or inquiring on whether or not you were ready to order? Are you overthinking this? *Yes.*

“Hmmmm…well I always order the same thing, so I think I’ll switch it up a bit.” pensively staring at the menu and giving the idea you’re going over it with a fine toothed comb.

“What do you normally get?” There is the curiosity you were just questioning.

“Waffles with strawberries.” placing the menu down on top of Tzuyu’s discarded one on the other side of the table.

“Oh wow, okay…are we the same person? Or is this just a very weird coincidence that we volunteer at the same place and have the same order at the diner that we both go to frequently…?” completely in shock about the other details that have surfaced, realizing that you might have more in common that you have previously expected, even if it’s a small thing.

It’s something to hold onto.

A waitress walks up and stands next to the table, this one you were unfamiliar with. She’s not the one here on the days you stop by while on this side of town for volunteering. Looking up and offering her a smile, she doesn’t acknowledge it and just simply pulls her pen out from behind her ear, licks the ballpoint, and stares at you as if waiting for something.

“Oh, uhm….okay, Two orders of waffles, One with strawberries and one with blue berries and 2 cups of hot coffee, please!” The waitress nods at you, writing down some shortened version of what was said, before snatching the menu’s off the table and prancing into the kitchen.

Twiddling your thumbs while taking in the atmosphere of the place you usually frequent during the day, the warm lighting was pleasant even in the wake of the storm clashing down outside. Yellowed walls from the years of the building being open covered in themed art based off of “Route 66.”

Street signs, a wagon wheel, maps of the desert, pictures of vintage cars, you name it - haphazardly sprawled on the walls in a nonsensical manner. It always was something that made you giggle as there was hardly any sense to the interior design of this place, but you enjoyed the food either way.

Eyes shifting back to Tzuyu, who was now shivering in her seat, smiled up at you through chattering teeth. Watching her as she rubbed her arms for warmth, her hair still dripping from the mere seconds of rain you experienced (an ode to how hellish it was).

You stood up, hastily.

Her eyes followed you, watching as you took your blazer off to reveal a perfectly dry black button down. She gazed up at you, watching as you undid your cufflinks and started unbuttoning your shirt.

“Take your jacket off.” stated as you reveal the undershirt you were wearing under your work shirt, untucking it as you pulled it off.

“Excuse me?” Tzuyu, confused and wondering if she should be upset, halfway glares at you for the statement.

“Oh! Gosh, no. Uhm, I’m trying to help you be more comfortable and your jacket is soaking wet. Let me hang it on the back of the chair for you and you can wear this instead.” handing her the shirt that was thick and dry.

“Oh…” She stands, removing her jacket in what appeared to you to be slow motion. Excitement returns, finding its place in your stomach as you help her out of her jacket and into your shirt. Nervousness taking over your limbs as you shake, hiding it from her.

She doesn’t need to know that you’re feeling this way…that you’re attracted to her.

Sitting down again, Tzuyu has already stopped shivering and can’t seem to hold eye contact with you. A little unnerved, you try to make small talk to quiet the new sensations you were experiencing.

“So, ho-”

“Thank you.” interrupted by the stunning girl sitting in front of you, you can’t even mad at the sudden disruption of the question you were about to ask her.

“What?”

“Well, today has been kind of not by best day at all. I got stuck at the office, the storm outside, the lack of a ride home, my parents not coming to visit, and the you show up and fix almost every single one of those problems…I mean, you even gave me your shirt because I was cold…” her cheeks flush a lovely rose color.

“It’s really no trouble at all.” quietly from your side of the table, what was she implying here?

“This is really making my day, so thank you…seriously.”

“I’m glad that I can contribute to you having a good day, Tzu.” Sides of your mouth pulling up to offer a small smile, now feeling like you’re on the spot - you don’t really know what to do with yourself.

“Here you are, blueberry for you” a plate heavily placed down on the table and slid against the glassed wood that was heavily tarnished from years of the same movement.

“And strawberry for you.” the waitress repeats the movement and slides the fruit drenched waffles in front of Tzuyu before turning around and jogging to get the coffee she freshly made for the two of you.

“Do y’all need any cream? Sugar?” shouted back to the table from behind the “bar.”

“Yes, please!” Tzuyu now cutting her waffles before melting a slab of butter on them and then drenching them in syrup.

The waitress brings the packed of sugar and cream over with the two mugs and the pot of coffee, setting the entire tray down before stepping away and leaving the both of you to your breakfast.

Glancing down at the two mugs, you reach over and grab one.

“How do you take your coffee?” looking up at Tzuyu to see her plopping a syrup coated strawberry in her mouth and trying to chew it quickly so she can answer your question.

“Two sugars and a dash of cream, usually.” reaching out to take the mug from you, you swiftly move it just out of reach from her.

Setting it down just out of reach, she stops what she’s doing and watches you take the sugar packets and shake them so all of it piles up at the bottom of the thin paper before you rip them open.

“You better keep eating” scolding her playfully without looking up. A soft shy giggle is heard through the spoon mixing the sugar around, waiting for it to dissolve in the heat of the liquid before introducing the cool cream to the mixture.

Lifting the mug off the table, you hand it to Tzuyu, hands brushing as you pass the mug. The softness of her hands relaxes you, contemplating what it would be like to hold them.

Snapping out of that thought, you proceed to make your own coffee. She takes a sip of hers and nods her head at the warmth and flavor. She watches you tentatively, noticing the two packets of sugar, noticing the same amount of cream…

“Another thing in common?” taking another bite of the waffles, as you dressed yours the way you enjoyed.

“I actually prefer iced coffee but I wanted to know what your order tasted like.” sipping from the mug and making a face at the flavor.

Tzuyu reaches out and smacks your arm jovially, giggling at the playfulness you possessed when interacting with her.

“It’s just okay. It’s not sweet enough.” poking fun at her now before taking a massive bite of the blueberry waffles.

“Hey!” reaching over to push you lightly.

She hasn’t stopped smiling since the two of you sat down, not that it was an issue…her smile lit up the room, able to lift anyone’s mood, and add a warmth to the dreary night.

Gathering a helping of the blueberries on your plate, along with piece of the doughy fluff on your plate, you take your first bite.

“Oh, you HAVE to try the blueberries!” speaking with your mouthful in excitement of how delicious and sweet they were.

Scooping a few up on your fork with the waffle and the syrup, you lift it up to her mouth and she instinctually takes the bite with no hesitation.

A small amount of syrup dribbled down her chin. You reach for a napkin and lick the corner of it, placing your free hand on the side of her cheek, you carefully wipe the droplet from her chin before turning your attention back to your food.

She’s a few chews deep when both of you realize the intimate moment you have just had with each other.

A flash of heat radiates from you internally, embarrassed at the romantic nature of the action, you look down at your lap - fearful of what the response would be.

“I’m sorry, I know you could’ve done that yo-”

“Don’t worry about it…I took it from you, didn’t I? I leaned into it…didn’t I?” batting her dreamy eyes at you, if you weren’t already sitting down - you would’ve needed to.

Suddenly very aware of everything touching your skin, the air in your lungs, and the sweet flavor of the berries that resonated on your tongue. It’s hard to ignore the signs that you were developing a crush on her, and very afraid of overstepping and scaring her off.

Stop.

Freeze this moment, hold onto the memory and remember it fondly later. The smile, to sweet words, the comfortability. It was unlike anything you’ve ever felt. No need to fear, this is happening naturally.

A film in development, a polaroid in waiting - comparable to what was happening right before both of your eyes.

“So why were you at the office so late today?” sipping the coffee you made for her, humming into the warmth of it, and grabbing her fork to sneak another blueberry or two from your plate.

Tzuyu is leaning in closer to you, elbows on the table and one hand other her chin, the other toying with the fruit on your plate. Sneaking a strawberry from hers, you continue on:

“Well…” letting out a sigh that rang true to how annoyed you were at the day you had.

“My boss sent me a report that needed to be finished by midnight tonight to be sent over to the shareholders overseas…at 4:30pm…when I normally clock out around 5-5:30pm.” rolling your eyes at the though, before glancing down at your watch to see it was 10:18pm already.

“Jeez, that was very inconsiderate of her…especially on a Friday when there’s a huge storm brewing outside.” another sip of her coffee, another blueberry stolen, another shy look through her long eyelashes, another moment to secretly swoon over her.

The comfort that you feel in her presence is…different.

Different in a good way, you were still nervous but not to the same degree. There was a safety here, you knew she wasn’t going to judge you and the anxious was more of an excitement than a fight or flight moment.

Taking the last bite of your waffle, you let a few more of the blueberries fall off onto the plate and watched her as she snagged her fork again, sneaking two and leaving the last two for you. Smiling at the gesture, you pop them into your mouth and enjoy the sweetness from both sides.

“It doesn’t look like the rain has stopped much.” glancing out the window and seeing the waterfall of rainwater cascading off the roof and into the parking lot.

“At least we are full now. I’m going to run to the bathroom and then I’ll be good to brace the storm again.” Tzuyu stands as she speaks, wrapping herself tightly in the button down to keep herself from shivering as she walks to the back of the diner.

Peacefully watching the rainfall down, sipping the warm coffee and waiting for her return, you gloss over everything that’s happened this evening.

Being trapped with a pretty woman in your car, not being able to see while driving, getting to this diner and finding out that she was actually really sweet and that you had a lot in common, the flutter returns once more. Tickling your already full stomach with even more comfort and calmness than you could express. A shit day turned into a lovely evening with someone very unexpected.

Flagging down the waitress to get the bill, she waves your hand down.

“Your friend already took care of it! Have a lovely night!”

Confused, you look up and see Tzuyu coming back from the bathroom with a big smile painted across her face.

“Why did you do that? I was goin-”

“You saved my day and you’re giving me a ride home, the least I could do was pay for dinner or…breakfast?” giggling as she continued to the table to grab the rest of her things.

“Besides, I ate your blueberries.” winking at you before grabbing her jacket and putting it on again. It was semi-dry now, but still damp enough to give her a small shiver.

“Fine, but next time, let me take care of it.” lightheartedly frowning at her.

“Stay here, I’m going to pull the car around so it’s not as wet for you this time around.” You stepped towards the door, buttoning your blazer up and trying to shield yourself from the rain you were about to encounter again.

Bolting out the door before Tzuyu could protest, you hop in the car and turn it on. Flipping your hair over your shoulder to get it out of your face, you pull out of the parking spot and pull up to the door as close as possible to insure maximum dryness in the human you were about to drive home.

She runs from the front doors to the passenger side of your car and hops in, much drier than before. Taking a second to wipe the excess water from her face, she looks over at you and scrunches her nose and furrows her brows.

“Next time?”

“What?”

“You said next time…so next time you’re buying?” so soft it could’ve just been a breath, you can see her hands shaking as she utters the words, she’s nervous again.

“Yes, next time…unless you’d prefer we didn’t do this again?” pursing your lips and checking in to see if that was something she was interested in.

“Well, I think I’d enjoy it more if it wasn’t…you know…violently storming.” gesturing towards the windshield at the obvious damper on your….hang out?

“I think we can make that happen.”

—

Light conversation fills the slow moving car as you make your way to Tzuyu’s apartment. Talks of what you guys would do the next time you hung out and if you should start volunteering at the animal shelter at the same time got you excited about what was sparking between the two of you.

You can’t help but wonder if she’s just as excited as you are.

Pulling off the highway again, you notice it’s unusually dark. The street lights are dim, the traffic lights are flashing and the buildings don’t have any life in them at all. Pitch darkness covers the once bustling area with lifelessness and dew drops.

“Is it always this dark over here?” concern is very present, as you never know what’s lurking in the dark.

“No…I think the power is out…it’s always well lit. I wonder how long it’s been out for…my dogs are probably so anxious and it’s so hot too. I hope they’re alright without the A/C.” Tzuyu starts picking at her fingers, noticeably anxious at the thoughts she was having.

Before your brain could even understand the thoughts you were having, you blurted out:

“Why don’t you pack a bag and come stay with me for the night? You can bring the pups too, of course.” eyed widening when you hear what you just said, you look over at her and see that she has a reaction that is…good?

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not? I’ve got air conditioning and I’d love to have some puppy’s around since we won’t be able to volunteer this weekend…I mean, if you want to…if you’re comforta-“

“I’d love to.” softly spoken with a very small, very gentle smile across her face.

Pulling up to the building she pointed out as her apartment complex, you offer to come up and help her gather things she might need for the night. Dog food, their leashes, and a bag of her necessities but she politely declines.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be quick!” as she hops out of the passenger seat and runs inside, meanwhile you’re just enjoying the view.

—

It wasn’t long before she returned with bag in hand and two cute dogs following her. Luckily, there was a break in the rain so the dogs had time to use the bathroom before hoping into the car.

Tzuyu wiped their feet off with a hand towel she had ready before unleashing them into the back seat.

Shy at first, the dogs are seemingly a little timid in their approach to you. Not really knowing how to interact since this is the first meeting.

Rotating in your seat to face them, you stick your hand out very slowly, palm up so they can sniff and decide on their own if they want to be touched or not.

“Helloooo puppies! It’s nice to meet yo-…wait, what are their names?” looking over at Tzuyu for the answer.

“This one is Kaya and this one is Butter.” pointing them out one at a time and giving the closest one to her a little head pat.

“Hi hi hi!” showing excitement in your most bestest baby voice to get them to see you were excited to meet them, they were very quick to return the excitement.

Butter jumped over the center console and ended up on your lap, Kaya finding her way to Tzuyu’s before standing on her back legs to look out the window. Continuing to talk to Butter in a baby voice, you give pats and scritches, toying with her big ears and giving her every ounce of attention you could before she curled up and got comfortable on your lap.

Eyes on you as you softly coo and pet the tired dog’s head gently, the feeling of being watched overshadowed by the care and attentiveness you were giving to the usually anxious dog in front of you.

“I’ve never seen her calm down so quickly…even for me…wow” petting Kaya as the dog scans out the window - seemingly on guard.

“Really?”

Tzuyu just nods her head at you, looking into your eyes, you see a glint of something…feeling your heart strings play a song you’ve never heard, you watch as the corners of her mouth lift in a very miniscule way. It would’ve gone unnoticed had you not been sneakily trying to take in every detail of her tonight.

Feeling your body start to lean towards her, Tzuyu seems to have the same idea- leaning into you slight before both of you catch yourselves. Straightening up a little and trying to brush it off as nothing, you turning your head back to the road and grip the steering wheel.

“Uhm…you ready?” the sweat on your palms would be visible, if you were willing to let go long enough to look.

“Yes, I’ve got everything me and the girls will need for the night.” there’s a drop in her pitch, a snag in her tone…did she want you to make a move?

Putting the car into drive and heading to the highway again, you make your way to your apartment. The rain gradually picking back up as you pull into your parking garage and whip into your assigned spot.

—

Helping Tzuyu, you grabbed her bag for the night and her purse, letting her carry your two new furry friends as they were obviously more comfortable with their owner than they would be with you.

Hands full, you fumble for your keys. Nervous was an accurate description of what you were feeling, not really expecting to have guests but happy that she agreed to come. You were enjoying the time you were spending with her and weren’t really ready for it to be over.

“After you.” gesturing her and the pups into your apartment with a smile before you stepped in, closing the door behind you.

Kicking off your shoes and walking over to the couch, you toss the bags on the cushion and remove your blazer, hanging it up in the closet next to the door. Tzuyu still has your button down on, holding the dogs and looking like she isn’t really sure what to do as she scans the living room, taking in the pictures on the wall and the setup of the furniture as she places the dogs down on.

“Please, make yourself at home! I’m going to change into something more comfortable. There is a half bathroom to your right, if you’d like to do the same…I’ll be right back.” the clattering of dog nails on your hardwood floors makes you smile, bringing a warmth to your house that you hadn’t felt before.

The tapping gets closer, looking down to see who it was…Butter seems to be following you.

“Alright, girl come on. You can come with me!” leaning down to scratch her head before you and your four-legged shadow go to your bedroom.

Leaving the door ajar, just incase Butter decides she wants to leave, you slip out of your work clothes and toss them in the laundry hamper before snagging your favorite pair of sweatpants and a cropped tank top - just trying to be as comfortable as possible after being drenched by the downpour that was now re-opening up outside.

Butter just sits and watches, waiting for you. Unable to help yourself, you coo and talk to her in the “puppy voice.” She wags her tail back at you and barks a few times, playfully. She suddenly zooms, pushing the door open with her snout and barreling into the living room.

Taking the small moment of alone time to brush your hair out, untangling it and throwing it into a messy bun. A deep breath fills your lungs as you prepare to step out into the living room again. Grabbing a massive fleece king sized blanket out of the closet and a few pillows, you step back into the living room - completely blocked by fabric and fluff.

The dogs start barking at you, cautioning the mass of blanket walking towards them - Tzuyu is laughing at them for causing such a scene when they were just fawning over you.

“I know it’s late already, but we both had coffee so I was wondering if maybe you’d want to watch a movie or something. I know it’s going to take the dogs a minute to get settled…and I did so happen to get a bottle of wine the other day if you wanted to have a glass or two with me while we watched something…if you want…that is…” plopping the blankets down on the recliner that was next to the couch that Tzuyu already was seated on.

She did take the opportunity to change into something more casual and comfortable. A black cropped hoodie and some light gray sweatpants. Seems like she had a similar idea to you. Even with her sitting down, you could see the outline of her abs.

Swallowing heavily, you avert your eyes, trying not to stare…she was just so pretty and so easy to be around…great conversations and the way that she was just so graceful…*Wait wait wait*, don’t get ahead of yourself. You don’t even know if she is feeling the same way.

“Yes, that sounds great! What kind of movies do you like?” She shouts while watching you walk to the kitchen to get a few wine glasses, a cork screw, and the bottle you previously mentioned.

“It’s your pick! Whatever you want!” sliding back into the living room on the hardwood, socks allowing the slip of the wood to coast you to your destination with ease.

“Don’t do that with so much in your hands!” Tzuyu’s arms raise, ready to catch you if you fall.

“You’ve got glass and a sharp corkscrew! What if you fell?” She stands, taking the glasses and corkscrew from you and placing them on the coffee table before putting her hands on her hips and cocking her eyebrow.

“Awh, come on, I was just having fun!” poking at her for being such a stick in the mud.

Tzuyu sighs, shaking her head slightly before taking her seat on the couch, picking up the corkscrew again, sneaking the bottle from your hands and opening it herself.

“Tzuyu, I promise I won’t do it again.” Halfway whined from you as you plop next to her.

“Good.” Handing you the glass of wine she just poured, smiling about getting her way before pouring herself a glass and recorking the bottle.

The thunder claps outside, scaring both of you and the dogs. Barking at the loud sound, they run and jump up on the couch, cowering behind the two of you.

“Awh, babies! Don’t you worry, your Mom and I will keep you safe, okay? Okay.” scratching behind Butter’s ear, Kaya picking Tzuyu to hide behind.

A glimpse, that’s all it was, from the corner of your eye - Tzuyu was staring at you…hands on her chin, small smile on her lips…and that glimmer in her eyes.

Turning your head to face her, she quickly snapped out of it. Unwilling to show you what you’ve already seen, unable to be so forward with what her body language was already telling you.

“So what movie do you want to watch?” another crack of thunder and the brightest bolt of lightening you ever seen, followed by a very loud pop, the power surges and flickers out completely.

You sit in shock…the whole point of her and the dogs being here was to get out of the powerlessness of her own apartment, but now she was in yours…with her dogs…and no power.

“Did you hear that? The pop?” Tzuyu shakes her head yes in response to your question.

“That was the transformer…so…they’ll have to replace it before we get power back on…” the annoyance woven in the words as you spoke them.

She erupts in a fit of laughter, unable to contain it. Her giggle lights a fire in you, boiling your stomach and melting you from the inside you.

The way she covers her mouth when she laughs, the way she’s leaning back and smacking her knees…the infectious sounds pull the giggling right out of you, unable to stop yourself from joining her.

“Oh, that’s too funny! I was wondering when that would happen. “ wiping the tears out from under her eyes.

“What do you mean?” confused at the statement.

“Well…look at how stormy it is outside. It was likely the power was going to go out. Don’t you think?” Tzuyu gestures at the window, the pitch dark lit up by random flashes of lightening and the rumbling of the winds clashing together.

“Wait…so you knew my power was going to go out here too and you still came?” even more confused.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I? It was a sweet offer and I’m having fun with you…how does “Spirited Away” sound?” using her phone as a flash light and going over to her bag to pull out an iPad.

Tzuyu flips open the case of her tablet and sets it up on the coffee table, taking a swig of the wine and getting the movie pulled up as she sits next to you. You’re a little awe struck, unable to understand what was happening in front of you.

“Everything okay?” leaning back and putting her arm on the back of the couch so it was almost around you, you’re facing her with one leg folded in front of you.

Sipping your wine, you set the glass down on the table and return to your previous position but this time, you rest your head on your hand. Soaking her in as she does the same to you, grinning at you a she takes a sip of her own wine.

Very unprepared for what happens next, Tzuyu reaches over and places her hand on your arm. Shockwaves blast through your nervous system, causing your body to clench and release under her touch.

The place where her hand sits on you burns in the best way, an ache that makes you want to curl up with her in the middle of this storm and just enjoy this time together.

“Why don’t you go and grab some candles and that blanket and come sit closer?” Her tone is…attractive.

Tzuyu sets her glass down on the table placed next to the couch, licking her lips to get the wine flavor off them and scooting into the corner, leaving space between the two of you.

Your insides are absolutely screaming, candles? Movie? Wine? Intentionally coming over even though she knew the power was going to go out? Was this…a date? Was she…flirting?

Quickly doing as you’re asked, grabbing the massive blanket and throwing it over top of her lap and going into the kitchen to grab a few candles.

You place them on the coffee table and light them with your emergency matches before sitting next to her on the couch.

Butter and Kaya jump up and find there spots in you and Tzuyu’s lap, she hits play and the movie starts. Her arm present on the back of the couch, you’re tempted to scoot all the way into her…temptation wasn’t enough to get you to do so.

There wasn’t enough proof it was what she wanted and you were way too nervous to act on the impulse of cuddling Tzuyu.

Fighting the urge to hold her hand, kiss her, innocently touch her arm all night, you can’t just…do it, what if she isn’t into it? The comfort of her presence was going to have to be enough for now.

The thought are interrupted by a soft hand on your shoulder, pulling you in closer to Tzuyu until your body’s were anchored together. You interweave your fingers together shyly, being so soft and slow with the movements as if you were sneaking affection.

Face turning towards her to seek permission, after the hands are already entwined, you are met with her face - mere centimeters from yours.

Time stops.

Her nose grazes against yours.

Nothing else matters.

“Is this okay?” whispered to you while her eyes flicker between your lips and your lashes, searching for signs in your body language.

Nodding your head so softly, had she not been that close to you, she might not have noticed.

Your eyes dance with hers, the tango of anticipation for what was coming.

Suddenly, Tzuyu leans in and connects your mouths together in the softest, sweetest, and gentle kiss.

Fireworks.

Heart beat booming to the sparks of what was being created, the foundation of something more being built right before your very eyes.

Parting briefly for a moment, she looks at you and takes in your features, she lets you watch her do it this time.

She strokes your cheek with the backside of her pointer finger, tracing the lines of your cheekbones and moving her eyes back to your lips.

“Was that still oka-” before she can even finish the sentence, your lips are together again. Initiating something a little more passionate, bringing your hands up to cup her face and leaning further into her.

Her hands find their place on your forearms, holding them delicately while allowing you to take the lead. Fingers wandering back to entangle in her hair, you graze your tongue over her bottom lip, asking permission to take it one step farther.

Her next movement showed she consented, bringing her hands to the back of your next and allowing your tongues to meet. Innocently exploring each other, the movements gain speed as you feel like you’re ascending into heaven.

The satisfying ache of your bones drenched in honey, a thickness that could only be described as a sugary, sappy substance flooded your veins and made you instantly addicted to her.

A grandiose crescendo in the movie brings you both back down to the couch, snapping you back to the present, reminding you that this was just the first time you hung out…it was not the time to push it further than it needed to go. Pecking her lips a few times before resting your head on her shoulder, innocently.

Her heart beat is loud enough to be heard, you grab her arm and pull it around you, stretching out across the couch so you both can lay down together.

Her dogs on your laps, you in her arms, her favorite movie playing and the storm outside. All too comfortable and relaxing for the two of you.

You fight your eyes for a while, trying to combat the sleep as it fought for your attention and ultimately lose the battle.

—

The slow build of rain peacefully wakes you, drifting you out of the dreamless sleep, you let out a groan and stretch for a moment, rolling over on the couch and curling up in the blanket that was noticeably missing someone.

The tapping of claws on the floor and panting first thing in the early hours of the day were lovely, even half asleep.

The dogs are jumping on you, licking your fresh morning face and trying to get some love and affection.

“Hi hi hi!” in your groggy sleeping voice.

“Where is your mother? Where did she go?” puppy voice returning while you stand up and survey the room, noticing that the oven clock was blinking so the power was back on, and Tzuyu was nowhere in sight.

Well she had to be coming back, right? I mean the dogs are here, she wouldn’t just leave the-

The door cracks open very softly. A hooded figure steps in with a take out bag in hand, rain drops coating the water resistant jacket that was a little too familiar, and closes the door gently behind them. Taking their shoes off softly, before pulling the hood off…Tzuyu.

“Good Morning, I went out to the diner down the street to get us some breakfast! I thought it might be a nice way to celebrate the power coming back on and our first…uhm…well..” hesitating to say what you both knew it was.

“…Date?” finishing her sentence, smiling at her as you made your way up to her, wrapping your arms around her neck.

Tzuyu places her hands on your hips, slowly inching them around your waist so she can fully press her body on yours, lays a soft peck on your cheek.

Releasing you, on a mission to find your coffee stash and get a pot started for the two of you.

“What did you get for breakfast?” sitting down on the stool in front of the counter, rubbing your eyes to try and remove the sleep from them.

“Waffles. One order of blueberry, one order of strawberry. I figure we could go halfs-ies on them.” pursing her lips, folding her arms across her chest and tapping her cheek with her pointer finger.

“…and miss you trying to sneak blueberries off my plate? Not a chance.” smirking at her, knowing this wouldn’t be the last moment you brought up her blueberry thievery.

Tzuyu winks at you, before going back into her deep thought.

Unconsciously admiring her pensive face, you let her ponder for a moment. Taking in the way she shifts her weight from one leg to another, the way she hums while she thinks as if she’s talking to herself, and how she seemingly doesn’t want to ask for help locating whatever she’s looking for.

Gosh, she’s so cute.

“Whatcha looking for?” coming up behind her, sliding your hand over the small of her back. You feel her shiver under your touch before she leans into it.

“Plates.”

“Are you trying to guess what cabinet they are in?” teasing her before lightheartedly turning her face towards yours, kissing her and whispering, “Top left, over the sink.” With another swift peck on her lips and you’re off to the other side of the kitchen to get 2 cups of coffee for the both of you.

Bringing both mugs back, placing one in front of her on your way to your own seat, she’s already got the plates divided up and is waiting for you to sit and get comfortable before she starts to eat.

Breakfast together was fun, asking about favorites - movies, music, colors, animals, hobbies and just learning different things about each other, with the occasional blueberry stolen from your plate. You made sure to share, with the dogs too.

Plain blueberries, of course.

Sitting there for a good few hours before feeding the dogs their actual food and moving back to the couch, you spend the majority of the day wrapped up in each other, the blanket just adding to the coziness of your newly found crush.

“Well, it’s getting late…” Tzuyu says when the clock hits 8pm.

She stands up, the storm still ever present outside. Getting a ride in this would be impossible.

“I should probably go.”

“You know you don’t have to! It’s still storming really badly out there…and I am very much enjoying your company.” looking up at her from the comfort of your couch.

Reaching out to grab her hand, you hold her by a few of her fingers and look up at her to find eyes of someone who most definitely did not want to leave.

“I don’t want to intrude…” Tzuyu looks at the floor, waiting for you to combat her sentence, knowing you would.

You stand up, her vision following you as tou step in front of her.

You look her in the eyes, bringing your hands up to tug on hem of her cropped shirt innocently, brushing her stomach with the back of your hand while you toy with the cloth.

“You’re not. I want you to stay.” toying with the strings of her hoodie while you shyly tell her to stay with you another night.

“Are you sure? I really don’t want to impose…you’ve already put me up for a night.” giggling at her own comment, before she meets your completely serious face.

“ I want you to stay. If you don’t want to stay, then you don’t have to. I want you to be comfortable. I’m okay with whatever you decide…it is storming pretty heavily outside though and I want you to be safe.”

Tzuyu beams at you, taking her seat on the couch again and ushering you over to her. You oblige, finding your new favorite spot. In her arms.

“Hey, I was thinking…” she starts to ask.

“Would you want to go to dinner with me next weekend? Maybe we could go to the shelter together and then go get dinner afterwards?” her voice shakes, nervousness looks really cute on her.

“I’ll have to check my schedule…” poking fun at her, smirking while you did it.

“I’d love if you could pencil me in.” snapping back at you with the same amount of playfulness.

“I’d love to.” snuggling into her, flipping the TV on while the storm raged outside.

You hand Tzuyu the remote, letting her pick what you watch. She chooses some documentary about animals for background noise, both of you are too busy wrapped in each other and watching the storm to care about what’s on the tv.

It was easy to drift off into a mid-afternoon nap in the comfort of her, feeling so safe and cared for while she runs her fingers through your hair…you’ll have to remember to thank your boss the following Monday for that stupid report.

Maybe even say thank you to the sky for the rain.

#tzuyu fluff #tzuyu x reader #tzuyu imagines #twice tzuyu #chou tzuyu #tzuyu #tzuyu x fem!reader #twice #twice fluff #wlw

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heartpiratedrabbles · 9 months

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Drunken Mistakes

Prompt: You get too drunk one night and embarrass yourself in front of your captain.

Part 2

Trafalgar Law X Fem Reader

“Oh come on y/n!! We’re finally on land! Lets go have some fun,” Ikkaku begged you. She noticed you taking pajamas out of your locker over something to wear out.

“You know I don’t party,” You say over your shoulder, unzipping your jumpsuit. As the only 2 women on board, you two shared a rather large room, you even had full-size beds over the twin bunk beds the men shared in their rooms, which housed 4 people to a room. Law was nice enough to provide everyone with their own personal desk and locker.

Ikkaku placed a hand on her hip, “That’s the point! You’re not going to party but you can watch me to make sure I don’t do anything stupid” She was eager to get of the submarine, it had been a month since they had last been on land, and Captain said they’d be staying for a week or two as everyone was getting a little ship madness stuck inside. “Come on! Please?” She walked up beside you and started rummaging through your clothes before pulling out a rather revealing romper.

She wiggled it in front of you before you sighed, “Alright, but I’m only watching your sorry ass from the side lines. We can’t have you getting lost now.” You grab the romper and think about how even when you have time to wear anything, you still choose clothes that are like the crews jumpsuit.

~~~

The island was fun, there was an entire street full of bars to choose from, each just as rowdy, loud, and addictive as the last. Ikkaku finally decided on one and you couldn’t help but wonder if she pre-planned this when she squeals and runs up to the two familiar faces of Penguin and Shachi.

“Heyyyy You got Y/N out of your guys room, How’d you manage that?” Penguin happily yelled as you sat down across from them.

Shachi and Penguin gave each other a look before getting their notorious smiles, this could only mean one thing. And absolutely awful idea that they’d be insistent on. Before you could retreat from the crew's pranksters they flank either side of you, place their hands on your shoulders, making sure you stay sitting. “Y/N why don’t you relax a little bit,” Shachi said putting an empty mug in front of you.

“Yea, come on Y/N you haven’t let loose in a longgg time,” Penguin grinned as he poured some liquor into the glass. It had been a couple of months since you drank last, but you also got absolutely shit-faced that last time and can’t remember much of the night other than Bepo having to carry you back to the ship and Ikkaku holding your hair up as you puked.

“You know I’m on watch tomorrow morning, I can’t drink tonight,” You thought up an excuse as quick as they had started their shenanigans.

“But Y/N… It’s Jean Bart's turn to watch tomorrow, you’re on duty in 3 days,” Ikkaku blurted out, remembering the schedule I had hung in our room, she had a wicked smile on her.

“You guys planned this didn’t you,” You sigh as you relent a little bit, taking hold of the glass in front of you and you can hear Penguin let out a small giggle, he had been drunk before you even walked in. “No more than 4 drinks. A round per person,” You chug the liquid in the mug as the three cheer around you, accomplishing their mission.

~~~

You hadn’t realized how tense you’d been lately until the liquid forced you to relax. After the 4th round, Shachi had suggested going to a different bar, one with a much better selection of booze and you decided to continue drinking.

“Y/N you’ve been working so hard recently, we’re glad you’re finally relaxing a bit,” Penguin murmured from where his head had rested on his arm still holding a glass half drunk. You giggle a bit at the display before taking the glass and finishing the rum, Shachi was still quite Sober compared to either you and Penguin, and Ikkaku was still off grabbing another round for the table.

You leaned forward on the table, your cleavage becoming all the more evident, “Well Sachi! I think you should take a penalty drink!” You Grin at him, you’d never been able to pronounce his name correctly once you started drinking.

“Oh? And what, Pray-tell, is this penalty for?!” He laughed out also leaning in, never one to back down from a battle.

“You, my good sir,” You pointed towards his chest, “Are still wearing the jumpsuit,” Slurring half the words as Ikkaku sits back down with a tray of drinks.

“You heard the boss, Penalty drink for still wearing uniform,” Ikkaku smiled out handing Shachi a shot glass of god knows what. He sighed defeat and took a shot, “But Y/N that means you need a penalty drink for not covering up your tattoos.”

You look down and around yourself, realizing the romper was just straps and showed off the tattoos on your shoulders and gave a small peak to the larger one on your back, “Thas not fair!” You pouted before grabbing the shot and pounding it back.

~~~

All four of you had returned rather late, all praying that Hakugan, the watch for the night, wouldn’t tell on you, or even worse, the captain was still awake to scold the four of you. It had been well past 3am and Law had always wanted everyone back on the ship by 1am or for them to sleep in hotels at that point.

None of you thought you’d be out this late and none of you wanted to even try to find a hotel, best to just sneak back into your rooms. After all, once you’re close enough to your rooms, you can claim you were just going to the bathroom.

Shachi was holding up Penguin as you and Ikkaku had been supporting each other, trying to hold back any giggling or words as you climbed onboard. The one thing you were jealous of was how close some of the men’s room were to the top of the ship, Your and Ikkaku’s room were toward the bottom so you had to traverse much further than your two crewmates.

Penguin nodded a goodbye and Shachi barely managed to open the door to their room, thankfully, it had seemed as though their roommates had opted to stay out for the night.

Ikkaku makes eye contact with you and you continue to walk towards your quarters, and you both start to giggle. As you get closer to your room you motion for Ikkaku to continue without you, pointing towards the bathroom as explanation.

She looks at you and gives a thumbs up trying to hold back any noise, The Captains room was just slightly further down the hall and we’d be dead if he caught us. You watch as she retreats into the shared room as you slink towards the bathroom.

As soon as you enter the bathroom your met with a blinding light, no doubt left on by Ikkaku from before you two even left, but as you walk further in, reaching out for where the light switch should be (Opting for darkness over the headache inducing light) You bump into something. Or rather, someone. You stop, your hand on the wall, if you had been more sober you’d know you should have felt the light switch by now if this was the girls Bathroom.

“Y/N-ya.” A dry familiar voice rings into your ears as your eyes snap open, staring at the tattooed chest of your captain. “I see you had a fun night.”

You couldn’t register the emotion in your Captains voice and you couldn’t quite sober yourself up, try as you might. “C-captain!” You blurt out peering up, straightening your back and trying not to let the giggle you feel out. The man in front of you was only wearing a towel, rather low on his hips at that and his hair was damp. After a second of holding your breath to try and maintain a serious demeanor the cold hard stare of your captain makes you burst out laughing a bit, stumbling over your feet, “You’re not suppose to be in here~” You point your finger a bit before tapping his toned chest.

Yep, this must have been a dream, you must have passed out somewhere and this was a fantasy. There’s no way your captain would every allow you to touch his bare chest like this. You place both your hands gingerly on the taller mans shoulders before slowly moving them down, taking in the feeling of the toned chest in front of you, “It feels so real,” You murmur under your breath as your hands venture to the mans hips.

Law inhales sharply at the sudden touch. As your hands venture back up to his chest, tracing the outlines of his tattoos his own hands grab hold of yours, stopping any movement, “Are you having fun, Y/N-ya?” He leans down to whisper into your ear.

The voice sends shivers down your spine and you can feel yourself getting excited. “Well if this is a dream…” You murmer before leaning in, attaching yourself to your captains neck. Not even a second later you felt yourself being shoved into the cold metal wall.

Law had pushed you back while also lifting your legs around him and your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, “I can assure you, Y/N-ya… This is plenty real.” You look up at the captain, registering his words and the slight pain in your head that had barely hit the wall and the sudden realization sobers you up almost immediately. Your eyes widen and you suddenly become hyper aware of the position your in hanging your head to avoid Law’s gaze, “Looks like you’re finally awake.”

#One Piece #trafalagar law #Law X Reader #One Piece X Reader

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godmadeaterribleerror · 2 months

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Chapter 6 - I've Been Searching for a Fortified Defense

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: As we begin our first 5-digit word count chapter (I can’t be stopped, someone take away my keyboard) and I find a stride of about two chapters per week, I want to say that: A) I fully intend on finishing this story. I plotted out the whole thing before I started, have made a few adjustments given the pacing I’ve done so far, and with how it’s broken down right now we’ll reach the end in 2-3 months. B) Thank y’all from the bottom of my heart for reading! If you have theories or thoughts or feedback please don’t hesitate to share them! I love hearing what you think of the plot and the characters, and every interaction means the world to me. Whether you’re only reading or leaving comments as well, thank you so damn much. I’ll see you next chapter (it’s gonna be a doozy) <3

Chapter Title from Bells in Santa Fe by Halsey.

Word Count: 11.2k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: You throw a punch, and Phase One: Operation Quick and Bald goes. Not well, but it goes. Contains usual tags.

Read on A03!

Chapter 5 - Chapter 7

Taglist: @lordofthunderthr @kritara

Want to be tagged? Just ask!

Ben dodged the third punch in a row, grinning widely right up until the fourth one landed on his face.

“Ha!” She yelled, drawing back to shake her first out. “Take that, you weirdly fast man.”

Ben rolled his eyes, rubbing his face lightly. It hadn’t hurt—he’d barely even felt it—but She was being real fucking smug for someone who’d only just landed a hit after a damn week of attempting to do so.

“Yeah, sure, Sunshine. Keep it the fuck up, and at this rate it’ll only take you another couple thousand years to surpass Muhammad Ali.”

She raised her brows at Ben, pausing with a tilt of her head. “You were a fan of Muhammad Ali?”

He nodded, giving her a scrunched look of annoyance. “I’m a fucking American, and there ain’t nothing more red-blooded American than punching commies like that son of a bitch did.”

“What?”

“When he fought the Russian, and won. That’s fucking American.”

“Ben, you’re thinking of the plot of Rocky IV.”

“No, Muhammad Ali fought that Russian pussy and kicked his fucking ass.”

“No, Sylvester Stallone fought the Russian pussy and kicked his fucking ass. In a movie.” She laughed to herself. “I’m shocked you even saw Rocky IV, let alone were so impacted by it to let the plot override your knowledge of a real life person.”

“Shut up,” Ben grunted, moving his hands back to a defensive stance. She fucking always won these stupid arguments, and Ben couldn’t actually prove it, but he knew She was changing the fucking internet she loved so damn much to match her claims. “Go again.”

“Someone missed nap time.” She muttered under her breath, even though she knew Ben could fucking hear her, but put her fists up anyways. “Can this be the last one? I’m hungry.”

Instead of answering, Ben just launched himself at her, and She jumped to the side with a yelp.

“What the fuck, Ben!”

He turned and threw another punch, feeling pleased at the smooth way she ducked away and met it with a punch of her own. Her face had lost the pissy shock, laser-sharp concentration replacing it. Her eyes were narrowed, darting across Ben as he moved, her bobbing and weaving wasn’t entirely shit, and her heart was controlled with her breathing. She landed her second punch, this one on his shoulder, and Ben laughed, delivering one of his own.

“Christ, Sunshine, you’re fucking weak.” He laughed, examining Her carefully for any loss of control.

“I’ll kill you with my bare hands, Bitch.” She growled, lunging forward and grunting in frustration as Ben dodged with ease.

“That’s my line.” He taunted. “And you couldn’t even kill a man with an assault rifle if he was a fucking foot away from you.”

“Blow me.”

“I’ve been fucking trying- Fuck!” She landed her third punch, and it burned. Ben reached to touch where she’d hit and felt the skin mending across his jaw.

She was grinning in a wide, toothy, satisfied way. “Suck on that, cunt.”

“Bitch,” he muttered, looking down at his hand to see it raw and red from the contact with his face, with some of his fucking hair stuck to it.

“Did you burn off my fucking beard!” His head shot up to see a half-sheepish, half-amused look on her face, lips curled and eyes wide.

“Oops.”

He yelled her name, and she had the fucking nerve to giggle. “We said no fucking powers!”

“I forgot.” She said lamely, her face less and less apologetic by the second, giggling again as she offered some of the most insincere comfort Ben had ever heard. “It’s not even that noticeable! You look just as good as before!”

His anger faded, and he gave Her a cocky smirk, raising his brows. “You think I look good, Sunshine?”

“I’m being nice. Don’t ruin it.” She muttered, her face adorably flushed, and Ben didn’t miss the skip of her heart.

“Whatever keeps you up at night.”

“That’s not the phrase.”

He winked. “I know.”

She scoffed and turned away, but not before Ben could see the slight smile on her lips. “I’m going to shower, I’ll meet you in the living room in fifteen. If you’re not there, with food, I’m eating the TV.”

Ben frowned, calling after Her figure moving down the hall. “Has the TV been edible this whole fucking time and you didn’t fucking tell me?!”

Her laughter echoed back down the hall. "You're real fucking gullible, grampa!"

“You know I can’t fucking tell when you’re joking about that shit, you bitch!”

“Fourteen minutes, cunt!”

“How the fuck am I supposed to make food in fourteen minutes?!”

“You’re a big boy, you’ll figure it out!”

Grumbling a string of cusses Ben hoped She could fucking feel, Ben grabbed a cup of instant noodles and threw them in the microwave, wondering if She would notice if he spit in hers. After pulling them out, grabbing two spoons from the counter that he almost immediately bent, spilling one of the cups as he noticed the damaged utensils, spilling the other when he noticed the first spill, and having to start the whole damned fucking thing over, Ben made his way to drop on the couch next to where She sat, wet hair clinging to her pretty face.

“Heard a lot of swearing, Pretty Boy, everything ok?”

He grunted, shoving Her noodles against her chest and letting go, not giving a fuck if she had a grip on them. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Just asking a question,” he could hear her shit-eating grin. “Thought it was a free country. Thought a patriot like you would appreciate me exercising my first amendment right.”

“That protects you from the government, not me.” Ben parroted back the words She had yelled at him after he’d made the apparently fucking fatal mistake of saying “first amendment right” in her presence.

She chuckled, her voice teasing. “Didn’t know you were capable of retaining information about something other than yourself.”

“Well, your tits were looking great while you were bitching. It helped.” He grabbed the remote, raising it to the TV. “I made food. I’m picking what we watch.”

“If you pick Game of Thrones so you can watch the sex scenes again, I’m figuring out a way to kill myself and doing it on your bed.”

“Whatever gets you in my bed, Sunshine.” He winked. “And I’m invested in the fucking plot, it’s not just the sex scenes.”

“It’s mostly the sex scenes.” She said, not even flinching at his flirtation. “Just go watch porn. See how fast you can break the fleshlights. If you do all three in ten minutes, Butcher owes me twenty dollars.”

Ben scowled, not enjoying that She’d apparently been making fucking bets with Butcher about his masturbation. “I can last longer than ten fucking minutes, I’m not a fucking pussy.”

“Prove it.”

He grinned widely at Her as her face flushed adorably, her own phrasing catching up with her head. “I’d be honored, Sunshine.”

“You’re like a fucking rabbit in heat.” She muttered. “And if you do last longer than ten, Hughie gets the money, so keep that in mind when you’re jerking it to dragon boobs after I go to bed.”

“The dragons don’t have any fucking boobs, dumbass, the fucking hot lady queens do.” Ben said smugly, ignoring her eye roll. “And I would ‘jerk it’ in the privacy of my room, but someone won’t give me a fucking phone.”

“Yeah, the CIA. I’d actually back you up with Mallory, Pretty Boy. I think giving you a phone would be really entertaining.”

“I don’t need your fucking help.” He snapped, and she laughed.

“Can’t rely on just a handsome face to convince her that you somehow deserve the internet.”

“Handsome face?” He grinned at her, and only the slight stutter of her heart told Ben she heard him.

She made a mock face of thought. “Maybe if we suggested parental controls…”

“I’ll kill you, bitch.”

“I’ll make you the most useless and sad eunuch to ever grace this sorry planet, cunt.”

Ben glared at Her, and she reached over his arm to press play on the remote.

Most of the days since the failed Sister Sage mission had been like this. She and Ben got up, trained, ate, trained more, and then watched TV with dinner until She retreated to her room and Ben fought sleep for the rest of the night, alone. Neither of them mentioned how he’d saved her, or how She had started a habit of slapping Ben awake—he was pretty fucking certain that at this point she had figured out another way to break through the nightmares but was purposely choosing to fucking hit him instead—before she’d sit next to him for an hour or two after. Ben liked this unspoken arrangement, and liked even more how She had silently agreed to it. Just because he didn’t actively hate Her right now didn’t mean he was about become a sniveling pussy mess about feelings. Even if the lack of active hatred had morphed into something pulsing in his chest that he didn’t understand, and didn't fucking want to. Making Her instant noodles and not killing her when she lied to him for fun or called him “Pretty Boy” was as far as Ben would bend.

It had been mostly radio silence from the Boys, though Butcher and Cocksucker had visited two days after they’d dropped Her and Ben back at the safe house, as Cocksucker had managed to break his arm. There had been a long, incredibly boring and poorly told story as to how the injury had occurred, involving a supe, Nikola Tesla and something called a Cybertruck, but Ben had pretty much tuned out the entire fucking conversation once he realized they weren’t here for him at all. The only thing that had kept him from retreating to his room for the duration of the visit was the small falter in Her heart when she touched Cocksucker, her jaw clenched as Ben and Butcher watched Cocksucker’s arm heal into place in a fucking disgusting manner.

When She’d let go, she’d given Ben a weird fucking look with tight lips and sad eyes that he'd only seen before on Cocksucker. It had passed quickly, her face returning to apathetic and bored, her eyes regaining the sharp amusement they usually held, but fuck it had confused him. She and Butcher had started talking about missions and planning and other mind-numbing shit, Cocksucker shaking out his arm as if he didn’t trust that it was healed, and Ben had needed to piss and gone to do just that. Before he’d left, he’d caught Her a look of where the hell are you’d going, he’d grinned back with a wink of why, you want to join me?, and she’d rolled her eyes and returned her attention to Butcher. When he’d returned, Butcher and Cocksucker had left and She was glaring at him, arms across her chest.

“Are you an idiot, or just a dick?” She’d snapped.

He’d frowned at Her, trying to figure out what had made her all fucking bitchy. As far as Ben was concerned, he’d been fucking amazing, only calling Butcher a pussy twice and managing to refrain from talking to Cocksucker at all. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Butcher told me we’re moving on operation Quick and Bald soon. He told me you knew. Why didn’t you fucking tell me?!”

“Oh,” Ben had rolled his eyes. “I forgot.”

“You forgot?”

He’d shrugged. “Well, you fucking know now, so get over it. And what kind of fucking shit codename is Quick and Bald?”

“Fuck you, it’s an accurate and descriptive name.”

“How the fuck could that be ‘accurate and descriptive’?”

“Because two key factors of this phase of my plan are the quick and the bald.”

“Your plan?”

“Yeah, my fucking plan. That I fucking deserved to know the status of.” She’d scowled. “Butcher says it’s almost ready. He’ll get us in two days once it’s in place.”

That had been five days ago. Starlight and Cocksucker had dropped in after two days, full of apologies and updates that Ben didn’t give a fuck about, and when he’d asked Her for more information about the plan, she’d told him to “suck her dick and shove his questions up his ass until they reached his brain.”

So Ben still had no fucking clue what Quick and Bald was about.

Aside from Her lingering anger at him for apparently having the fucking nerve to ask questions about the jobs he had to do—an opinion he had made the mistake of voicing, leading the unwelcome lesson on the first amendment—She was being impossibly easy to talk to, and Ben was getting dangerously close to not only enjoying her company, but finding her comfortable. Part of him was hoping she’d say something very, very soon that would allow him to grip onto hatred, or at least indifference, for the rest of his time in this stupid fucking situation.

Instead, in a way that made Ben think God himself was out to fucking get him, he’d started to tell her things. Fucking voluntarily.

One of those nights where sleep had gripped his head and pulled him under, struggling and roaring, he’d woken up once more from only the force and sting of her hand across his face. She’d sat next to him again, and he’d asked her more questions about before, all of which she’d answered with a faraway, insufferably sad look in her eyes.

“How many siblings did you fucking have again?” He’d pressed once.

“Four,” She’d responded, a wistful smile on her face. “Two brothers, two sisters. All younger.”

“Your parents had four more kids after you? What, were you that fucking annoying they needed to try again four fucking times?”

“No, I was just so adorable they needed to try and recreate my perfection. Once they realized that was impossible, they gave up.” She’d smirked, and Ben hated that somehow he didn’t doubt her words. “Well,” she’d mused to herself. “That and they fell violently out of love with each other.”

“Violently?” He’d made a face, and she’d nodded solemnly.

“I shielded my siblings from a lot of flying plates.”

Ben found another thing to hate. Her parents, and how fucking sad she looked. “You miss them?”

“My parents?” She’d snorted. “I miss my dad. I hope my mom gets her head popped.”

He’d coughed to cover a laugh. “No, you fucking smartass. Your siblings.”

Her answer was quick and soft. “Every fucking day.”

Ben had grunted, watching the distance return to her face, and before he could stop himself, he was talking. “I didn’t have any siblings.”

Before he could curse himself out and try to distract Her with something else, she had been looking back at him with wide, focused eyes. “Do you wish you did?”

“I never thought about it,” he’d muttered. “My father was such a fucking dick I’m surprised he even got my mother to marry him, let alone fucking have one kid. I think he hated me enough to never fucking risk it again.”

“Risk it?” She’d kept her voice impossibly gentle as she’d asked, and it made his skin crawl all weird.

“I was the biggest fucking regret of his life. If he could go back and stop me from happening in the first place, make my mother flush me out, he wouldn’t have fucking hesitated.”

She’d paused, and a very fucking stupid part of Ben had thought she was going to let the conversation go. Of course, he should’ve fucking known by now that She damn well wouldn’t.

“What was your mom like?”

He hadn’t fucking expected that, and it had shocked him enough to answer. “Kind. Too kind for my father, he saw it as fucking weakness and told her all the fucking time. But she was so fucking kind.” He took a heavy breath. “She was full of love, and I have no fucking clue how. It was fucking stupid, all her love, even for my piece of shit father. He’d yell at her and threaten her and mock her, but she still fucking loved him. She fucking loved everything.”

Her voice was still gentle from beside him. “Like what?”

“Animals. Cats specifically. My father had all these fucking hunting dogs he loved more than anything, certainly more than me, and the only good thing he ever fucking did was trade one to get her a cat. It was massive, fluffy and gray, and it was a fucking asshole to everyone but her. It ate like a fucking elephant, shed like a whore in summer, but she loved it so fucking much.” At this point Ben had really wished he would shut the fuck up, but he couldn’t, and he was going to have to figure out a way to blame Her for that later. “She loved art. Painting. She tried to get me to love it too, even though I could barely draw a fucking worm. But I’d try, and she’d frame all my stupid, shitty drawings and hang them around the house until my father saw them and threw them in the trash. She loved music but couldn’t carry a tune if her life fucking depended on it. They’d go to the opera because my father would donate a ton for the publicity, and she’d come back all damn giddy. I’d wait up, just because she was fucking contagious when she was that happy. Even my father felt it, enough to just go straight to bed and not kick my ass for still being awake. She was fucking smart, too. Real fucking smart. My father would joke he wished she was a man, because then her brain would be useful. She would’ve fucking jumped for joy if she saw the world now. Met a fucking woman doctor.” He paused, looking back down at Her beside him. She hadn’t looked away from him, and there was none of the pity he’d expected to see on her face. It was just open, listening intently to his words with no malice or trickery behind her eyes.

“She sounds amazing.” She’d said softly, a small smile he didn’t understand on her face. “And your dad sounds like a fucking cunt.”

Ben had chuckled in surprise. “Fucking understatement of the damn year, Sunshine. That pussy would’ve tried to pry your degree from your fucking hands.”

“Let him try, I’d burn his fucking face off and laugh while I did it.”

“What were you even going to fucking do with a PhD in archeology?" He’d asked, and she’d huffed a small laugh.

“Anthropology, Pretty Boy. But nice guess.” She corrected. “And I’m honestly not sure. I’d quite literarily only just actually received the degree before everything… changed.” She’d sighed. “I had a few job offers, but mostly in academia and business. What I wanted was to work with nonprofits to help people.”

“Help people?” He’d given her a disbelieving stare. “With a prissy fucking degree?”

“Yeah, dickwad. Help people. I was a cultural anthropologist. I specialized in the evolution of cultures and ways to combat systemic cultural oppression.”

He’d stared at Her blankly. “You’re going to have to take down the fucking fancy talk by seven, Sunshine.”

“I studied how the government and culture is mean to people on purpose, and how to make them stop being mean.” She’d said flatly.

“Oh.” He’d rolled his eyes at the dirty look she was giving him. “Oh, fuck off. It wasn’t that painful to say.”

“Yes, it was.” She’d mumbled, narrowing her eyes at him. “You’re not going to argue with me?”

“What’s there to fucking argue about?”

“I just called your beloved country an ‘oppressive system’.” She’d watched him wearily, but her heart remained steady. “Doesn’t it mar your refined American nationalism?”

“Do you fucking want me to be mad?” Ben had asked, raising his brows at her. “I can definitely find it in me, that’s not a fucking issue. But usually when we fight about this shit, you get all bitchy and don’t talk to me for way too fucking long.”

“I mean, no, I don’t want you to get mad…” She’d frowned, examining him with yet another fucking confusing look. “Does it really bother you when I ignore you?”

“No.” He’d snapped quickly. “It’s just annoying, and I don’t like having to fucking deal with it.”

She’d hummed with an amused smile on her face, and the conversation had moved on to something else. Ben had shoved down the way it had been so easy to talk about his mother with her, until it was somewhere in his gut and he didn’t have to think about the way the feeling rolled around inside him.

And he refused to even acknowledge how when She would smile now, he’d have to fight himself to not do the same.

———-

It had been a week since the Sage incident, a week since Ben had saved your life—you'd locked everything about that particular action from what you thought of it to how it made you feel somewhere deep in your chest—and you were starting to lose your mind a little bit. When Annie and Hughie had stopped by with nervous words about delays in your meticulously prepared and incredibly well-detailed plan, you’d been willing to wait another day, maybe two, before executing operation Quick and Bald. Now it had been three days, burgeoning on four, and you were worryingly close to leaving the safe house just to yell at Butcher. Ben could stay here, or follow you and help you beat Butcher up for all you cared. Which was, admittedly, worrying within itself. Especially because the whole point of operation Quick and Bald was to take preventative measures against Ben’s needless brutality.

Over a month ago, right after you’d moved into the safe house and when you had been ready to throttle Ben’s neck every waking moment—an urge that hadn’t entirely waned, but was now undercut with a weirder, stronger urge to be near him without any murderous intent—you’d spent the hours quarantined in your room perfecting your plan to get Ryan Butcher the fuck out of dodge. When they’d come to pick you and Ben up for the whole Neuman test, you’d left it in the van for Butcher to find, and had been waiting since for him to set up the dominoes so you could knock them over.

At this point, you’d be happy with not even “dominos to knock over” and just “one singular domino to throw at someone." You had begun to develop a habit of staring down the hall from the living room, trying to will someone to appear with at least a fucking update. So far this strategy was not working, and had apparently started to garner attention.

Sitting on the couch, the TV white noise in the background and noodles in your hand cold and forgotten, you felt a foreign rush of oddly tight concern run through your body. You frowned, heard your name from next to you, and turned to find that Ben had been poking your arm.

“Are you fucking alive?” He grunted, watching you with a frown.

“Literally? Yes.” You answered with a tight smile. “You have noodles on your face.”

He reached up to feel for them, not looking away from you. “What the fuck do you mean literally? How can you be fucking metaphorically alive?”

“Mind-body problem, Pretty Boy. And it’s not metaphorically, it’s philosophically.” You lean back, grinning.

“You’re a real fucking pretentious bitch sometimes.” He grumbled, still trying to find the food stuck to his beard.

“If you made me a shirt that said that, I’d wear it.”

“I’m not going to fucking make you a shirt, Sunshine. You couldn’t make me learn to fucking sow with a gun to my head.”

“Because the gun wouldn’t affect you at all?” You pointed to your own chin, mirroring where the noodle was caught.

He sneered. “Because I’m not a pussy.” His hand found the stray piece of his dinner, and he pulled it from his jaw.

“Big words from the man who took two tries to make me instant ramen- hey!” A wet noodle hits you in the face.

“Ramen your ungrateful ass didn’t even fucking eat.” Ben gave a pointed look at the abandoned cup in your hands, the food inside having long lost any heat. “Don’t fucking test me, or I’ll actually spit in your food next time.”

“Drama queen,” you muttered, peeking back at the door. “Like you don’t already do that.”

“I fight the urge to be a fucking bitch, unlike certain women.”

You nod absentmindedly. “Butcher.”

Ben snorted behind you, and a smile you hoped he didn’t see crept onto your face.

“Yeah, sure Sunshine.” His attention returned to the TV, and you did your best to not stare down the hall, trying to ignore the hope that the door now shrouded in darkness would open.

A successful effort that made you jump out of your seat when it did just that with an aggressive bang.

Ben was faster than you, practically launching himself over the sofa and bolting down the hall, a dangerous look of alarm the last thing you saw on his face before he was gone from the room.

“Shit, no! It’s me!” You heard a high-pitched shout from the shadows of the entrance. “It’s Hughie!”

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” You heard Ben’s growl of a response.

Butcher’s voice drawled from the shadows. “Oi, take a deep fucking breath and put the bloody kid down.”

“Someone fucking answer me first.”

“Put him down, Soldier Boy, before we knock your ancient ass the fuck out.” The impatient, clipped words of MM responded, almost drowned out by Frenchie's shout.

“Can someone turn on the fucking lights? It is as dark as Monsieur Butcher’s heart and asshole!”

“I- I don’t feel good.” Hughie’s voice stuttered.

“Ben!” You flicked on the hallway sconces, illuminating a scene of Ben’s full body weight pressing Hughie to the wall, Butcher and MM trying with practically negative success to pry him off, and Kimiko gripping one of Frenchie’s arms as his other groped around for direction. You let out a very long, very loud sigh. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“It’s fucking late,” he snapped, not letting Hughie go. “They shouldn’t be here so fucking late.”

“This ain’t your real house, Mate.” Butcher grunted, still trying to move Ben. “We can be here whenever we bloody well please.”

Hughie wheezed out your name in a pleading tone. “Your plan is ready. We’re here to- fuck- we’re here to get you.”

That got you moving, crossing to the end of the hall in quick, frantic steps. “It’s ready? Are you sure?” Hughie gave a weak nod, and you rolled your eyes, shoving Ben shoulder. “Put him down, dumbass. He’s not a threat, and honestly, probably the worst one to have gone after. Just, like, strategically.”

Ben glared at you, but let go. He glanced at where MM and Butcher were still grabbing him, and gave them a venomous look that got them both to let go and take hasty steps back. He shot a glowering look of they could’ve fucking waited until the morning in your direction.

You wrinkled your nose at him. No. Shut the fuck up. You turned to Hughie, not even bothering to hide the desperation you felt in your imploring stare. “It’s all ready? All of it? A-Train agreed to help? We’re sure Ashley has the information? We’re sure neither one is going to tell Homelander, and we’re not about to walk into a fucking trap?”

“Yes, yes, yes, kind of, and yes.” Butcher counted off on his fingers as he answered. “But we’ve got to go right fucking now.”

“Kind of?” Anxious energy rushed through you—that still-strange feeling lighting under your skin—and you ignored the weird look Ben shot you as it did. “What do you mean, kind of? If you fucked this up, Butcher, I swear to God-"

“Calm the fuck down, Love.” Butcher snapped. “It’s going to be fine, we’ll explain on the way. But we need to go fucking now if you want this to work.”

You gave a sharp nod, starting to pull on your boot, glancing up with a pause when you heard Hughie say your name behind you.

“Do you, uh, do you want to get dressed first?” His voice was still slightly weak as he recovered from Ben’s force.

You glanced down at your body, and decided that the oversized shirt and cloth shorts would be fine. They were from the CIA spring fire-proof collection, and that was more than enough. “Nope. Let’s fucking move.”

You were halfway to the door when a crash sounded behind you, and you whirled around to see MM firmly blocking Ben’s path, the crash seeming to have been Hughie stumbling into the wall in an attempt to get away from the standoff.

“You’re not coming, Soldier Boy. This is a goddamn delicate operation, and you’re the fucking reason we have to do it in the first place. We can’t afford you throwing a tantrum and screwing us.”

“I’m fucking coming, and it’s not up for fucking debate.”

Off to the side, Frenchie snickered as Kimiko signed how many times do you think he’s said that before?

Ben shot them an annoyed look, his fists clenching. “What’s so fucking funny?”

“Nothing,” Frenchie snickered, and his tone was so remarkably unconvincing that even if you hadn’t understood Kimiko, you wouldn’t have believed him.

Ben grunted and tried to move past MM, again to no avail.

He glared down at the firmly planted man, a familiar violent glint in his eyes. “You better fucking move now, before I make you.”

“Do your fucking worst, we’ll put you right back in the box. You’re not coming with us.”

“MM,” you said firmly, watching Ben's fists clench as the dangerous glint returns to his eyes. “We need to go.”

MM looks back at you, but remains in his place. “Are you fucking serious? You’re siding with him?”

“I’m not siding with him.” You keep your voice level, ignoring Ben’s smug face and grin. “We can’t leave him. The I go where he goes thing unfortunately goes both ways.”

“The safe house will hold him for five hours.” MM pushed, and before you could even shake your head, Ben cut in.=

"No, it won’t.”

You shoot him a look that says you’re being unhelpful, and he just returns it with his own of fuck off, you know you fucking want me there.

“Please, MM. He’ll stay quiet in the background, or I’ll burn his dick off. Right?” You direct your last words at Ben, giving him a pointed agree with me or I’m knocking you out and leaving you here look.

“Yeah, whatever. But I’m not staying in the fucking van like a pussy. And you’d better explain what the fuck is happening on the way, Sunshine.”

“Deal. But first they,” You narrowed your eyes at Butcher. “Have some explaining of their own to do.”

“Don’t lose your bloody mind, Love, it’s all in order.” Butcher said breezily, shoving past you to open the door. He gave a dramatic wave of his arm for you to exit, and with a look of doubt, you did.

The car ride was already poised to be uncomfortable. Butcher’s car was not equipped for seven people, let alone seven people where three were very large men, three were supes, and nobody wanted to have physical contact with two. As such, Butcher drove, MM sat in the front, you found yourself squished against one window with Ben between you and a remarkably uncomfortable Hughie, as Kimiko sat, slightly elevated onto their laps, between Frenchie at the other window, and Hughie. It was overall an unideal situation, made worse as your own frustration was amplified by Ben’s, and by Hughie revealing that it was, in fact, not all in order.

Your phase one, the original operation Quick and Bald had called for Ashley Barrett’s complete cooperation. You’d even painstakingly outlined all the potential ways to flip her—most involving something along the lines of hey, wouldn’t a job that didn’t make you so stressed you rip out all your hair and have to buy a bunch of wigs be nice?—and different ways to keep Homelander from finding out about her betrayal—Spain was lovely this time of year, and had a thriving BDSM community Ashley would love. While MM had managed to take care of your instructions for A-Train, the half of the plan you’d incorrectly anticipated to be more difficult, the Ashley situation was, in Butcher’s words, very fucking delicate, but we’ve adapted and everything will be bloody fine, so trust me and don’t be a fucking cunt about it.

You did not trust him. I didn’t help that you’d asked for any other possible details, and he’d pretended he couldn’t hear you. This suspicion was confirmed when, despite your incredible clarity that you would never step foot there again, Butcher seemed to be driving right to Vought Tower.

Your eyes had been steadily widening, panic starting to run through you the closer and closer you got, and you flinched when you felt Ben’s roughly shoulder nudge your own.

“What’s fucking wrong with you?” He’d asked in a low voice, barely audible over Hughie’s rambling explanation.

“You should listen,” you mutter back, trying to shut out the confusing concern he always seemed to feel at you, how it felt remarkably genuine, but was laced with anger that felt like it was trying to push out of your body. “Hughie’s explaining the plan.”

“Yeah, but all I have to fucking do is stay quiet, and I get to keep my dick. You’re being fucking twitchy and silent, and your heart is beating faster than it has all damn day, so don’t even try to fucking lie and tell me it’s fine.”

“It is fine, I’m fine-“ You paused as his words sank in. “Wait, what do you mean my heart-“

“Alright, here we go.” Butcher cut off both you and Hughie with a clap of his hands. “Everyone bloody out, let’s get this shitshow on the road.”

“Butcher,” you said, looking around to see you’d parked directly across from the tower entrance. “What the fuck are we doing here?”

“We’re meeting them right there.” MM answered for Butcher, pointing out of his window to something you couldn’t see. “It’s almost midnight, and Annie’s been making sure nobody gets inside but us.”

“But why?” You protest, even as MM leaves the car. “This,” you give a wide, general wave that hits Ben in the nose. “Cannot be the only option.”

“Both of them still have their trackers,” Hughie leans forward with an apologetic look as Frenchie and Kimiko exit the car. “This will look like they’re just getting a midnight snack, and hopefully Homelander won’t get suspicious.”

“Hopefully?!” You feel a rush of anger—not yours—and a twist of fear deep within your gut—absolutely yours. “Hopefully fucking Homelander won’t get suspicious?!”

Hughie gave an uncertain nod before very quickly scrambling to get out of the car. You take a long, deep breath, trying to steel yourself. A rush of what was becoming a familiar fuming and brittle concern ran through you. You look at Ben, to find his eyes locked firmly onto yours.

“Sorry about hitting-“

“I know how to hot-wire a car.”

You blink at him, taken aback by the firmness of his voice. “What?”

His hand moved to grip your thigh, his gaze not wavering. “I know how to hot-wire a car.”

You give him a flat look. “Yeah, I heard you the first time. Why are you telling me that?”

His frustration leaked into you. “Because say the word, I’ll steal Butcher’s car, and we’ll fucking leave.”

“What? Are you insane?”

“You look like you’re either going to start fucking crying or burst into flames, and this is a stupid fucking idea.”

“This was my plan.” You snap. “And I’m not stealing Butcher’s car. Why do you even know how to hot-wire a car anyway?”

Ben’s grip tightened. “No, your plan was stupidly well fucking thought out.”

“That’s an oxymoron.” You mutter, and he ignores you.

“And even if they haven’t completely fucking blown the execution, they completely squashed any chance of safety.”

“It’ll be fine,” you say, the words sounding fake even as you say them. “It’s late. He’s probably asleep.”

“What if he’s not?” His concern was starting to move to your throat, and there was something else, something sitting far deeper in your chest, beating and beating against you. Against you.

“Ben.” You place your hand over his. “I’ve worked too hard on this. This is the only way, and it will be fine.” You say the last words firmly and clearly, trying to make them sink into you. “Now take your fucking hand off of me, and get out of the damn car.”

He pulls himself from you, and even as his touch leaves, the concern and beat linger until he’s gone from the car. You drag yourself across the seats and ignore Hughie’s offer of a hand as you duck out of the car and onto the curb. You notice the 24 hour diner MM must have been pointing out almost immediately, half because—aside from an incredibly sketchy looking deli a few doors down—it’s the only building with its lights still on, and half because two very flustered teenagers are sulking away from the entrance, where Annie stands with her arms crossed. She’s already spotted your group, and has angeled her head in a signal to join her.

“You’re late.” She chides as you approach.

“Well, Starlight, I’d apologize, but it was those two fuckheads,” Ben and MM both receive a jabbed thumb over Butcher’s shoulder. “Who decided to draw out the bloody carpool process.”

“I told you not to call me Starlight anymore, Butcher.” Annie snaps, not giving him a chance to respond before she turns to you. “A-Train is, somehow, running behind as well. Hopefully Ashley’s just being resistant to getting food with him, but they’ll be here.”

“Isn’t running that pussy’s whole fucking thing?” Ben muttered, quiet enough for only you to hear. You step as hard as you can on his foot.

“Shut it, Pretty Boy.” You whisper over his grunt of what probably is more emotional pain than physical.

“Bitch.” He hisses back.

“Cunt.” You raise your voice so the others can hear you. “We should go inside, it’s risky to just… stand here.”

With nervous looks around and stuttered agreements, you all make your way into the diner. The lights are flickering, and it’s eerily empty with only a very nervous-looking blonde waitress at the counter. She makes a very big show of asking how many are in your party, leading you to a large, round table, and laying out the menus with shaky hands. Kimiko, Hughie, Annie, and MM try and offer her comforting smiles, though MM’s is strained as he keeps a vigilant glare on Ben. The waitress is staring at Ben herself, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, glacing back as she leaves to get your and Butcher’s coffee, Annie and MM’s tea, Kimiko and Hughie’s milkshakes, and Ben and Frenchie’s orders of “the strongest alcohol you’ve fucking got.” Your personal bet was it was going to just be very old beer.

“Why is she fucking staring at me?” Ben muttered to you, watching the waitress as she walked away. “Did you fuck up my beard that bad?”

“Your beard looks literally the same.” You dismiss. “And it’s because, as far as the public knows, Maeve killed you in a heroic act of self-sacrifice to stop your evil, anti-American attacks. That, or she wants to fuck you.”

“Hm,” he looks back at you, settling down into his seat. “Am I allowed to bring guests into the safe house?”

“No.” You say, a little more curtly than you intended. Seeing his wide, cocky grin, you clairfy. “It’s a breach of security. She would need to pass a CIA vetting and be approved by, like, twenty people. I don’t think she’d do that just to fuck you.”

Ben shrugs, his smirk only growing. “You did.”

“I’m going to cut off your balls and feed them to you-“

“Hey,” MM cuts you off, saying your name in a brisk, hard tone from across the table. “They’re here.”

You snap your head to the door, where A-Train is practically pushing Ashley into the diner.

You hear her voice clearly over the recession pop humming from the speakers. “Why can’t we just go to the fucking deli? They make these amazing meatball subs and supes eat free, so you could order for both of us- oh fuck no.”

“Oh, shit.” MM mutters, jumping to his feet with Butcher and Annie as Ashley notices them, and promptly tries to dash for the exit.

You don’t entirely blame her. You’d probably do the same. You had done the same, an unhelpful voice reminds you.

“I- Am- Not-“ Ashley is trying to get past A-Train, who hasn’t given up trying to herd her further into the diner. “Fuck- this-“

“Ashley, just listen to them, I fucking swear-“

“Why should I trust you?!” Ashley doubles over, out of breath. “You fucking tricked me! Midnight snack my fucking ass- Fuck no!” She raises a crooked finger at Annie, who has stopped in front of her. “Get the fuck away from me, you bitch.”

“Ashley, please listen to A-Train-“

“No! Just leave me the fuck alone! I don’t want to be a part of your weird fucking eye for an eye justice shit-“

“You kind of already are.” MM says as he locks the door behind her. “You work for Vought, your it’s motherfucking CEO. That makes you a part of this, like it or not.”

“Not!” Ashley shouts. “I don’t care what you have to say! Homelander’s going to fucking kill me, oh my god.” She starts to hyperventilate. “If he finds out I was here, he’ll kill you-“ She points a shaky finger at A-Train. “And then make me go on fucking TV to explain why you’re missing, and then fucking kill me-“

Butcher scoffs. “Bloody hell, lady. Calm the fuck down, Homelander ain’t gonna find out.”

“You don’t know that!” She shrieked. “He knows fucking everything! Especially since fucking Sage joined!” She spins around frantically, and her wild eyes lock onto yours. “He knows about them!” A shaking finger jumps between you and Ben. “Fuck! He’s supposed to be fucking asleep and now he’s fucking not! And he was so fucking angry about her, I’ve never seen him so fucking angry-“

Whatever else Ashley stutters about Homelander’s anger is lost to you as the world freezes. The feeling isn’t just under your skin, it’s up your spine, in your blood, circling around your brain. It’s fucking everywhere and you can’t fucking breathe, her words looping around you.

He knows. He’s angry. He fucking knows. He’s fucking angry. He fucking knows and he’s fucking angry and he fucking knows and he’s fucking angry and-

A white hot, impossibly calm feeling crashes over you. It’s angry, hungry and angry, but it’s grounding, sharpening everything around you. Suddenly the world is back in complete focus, Ashley’s shrill rambling scraping at your ears, and in the distance that weird fucking rhythm is sounding. As the feeling in your body returns fully, you realize Ben’s hand is back on your thigh. You bounce it, looking up to give him a glare, and find he’s not even looking at you. Instead, his eyes are trained on Ashley, narrowed and cold. You give a small cough, and when he glances down at you, the feeling of anger stutters with something lighter, though only for a second.

You give another bounce of your leg, a look of move your damn hand or lose it taking over your face.

No, not until you calm the fuck down his scowl responds.

You huff, standing abruptly, and his hand falls off at the force of your movement. Suddenly you feel a lot less solid, but reason that your legs are shaky from the Homelander of it all, and if any situation calls for fractured nerves, it’s this one.

“Ashley.” You call across the diner, trying not to stutter or chew off your lip as her protests falters and attention turns to you. “If you know who I am, you know I wouldn’t be anywhere near here if we weren’t certain it was safe. Just have some food with us, listen, and then you can go.”

Ashley gives you a scowl that might surpass Ben’s but nods tightly, yanking her arm from where A-Train had been trying to hold her in place. You sit back down as the group at the door returns to their seats, the poor waitress pressing herself against the bar as they pass. Letting out a shaky, unsteady breath, you try and still yourself as you look out the diner window. City lights. Music.

City lights.

Music.

It was safe. He knows and he’s angry but was safe and there were city lights and music.

Your breathing was no longer coming in short, distressed bursts, but getting air in and out of yourself still felt like an act of labor, and you needed to get it the fuck together before Ashley sat down.

City lights. Music.

You can’t hear the song the diner is playing, instead letting your whole mind turn inward, allowing the ghost of music you can no longer sing to wash over you.

Ashley sits across from you right when you regain control, and from the corner of your eye, you see Ben pulling his hand from where it had been inching towards yours.

Her eyes flit, nerves poorly hidden, from you to Ben to Butcher to Annie and back to you, and her voice is high and shaky when she speaks. “Well?”

“Ashley, we need your help.” Annie leans forward, palms flat on the table.

“Well, then we’re done. I can’t help you. They don’t tell me anything, not really.” Ashley tries to stand, but her arm is caught by A-Train. “Really?” A-Train hisses as he pulls her back into her seat beside him. “They don’t tell you anything my ass, we sit in on all the same meetings. And I pulled these files-“ He pulls out a thumb drive from absolutely nowhere and drops it on the table. “Using your name, so you clearly have access to them.”

“What?!” Ashley looks at the thumb drive like it’s going to either explode or start jizzing on her blouse. “Why would you fucking do that?”

“Insurance.” A-Train answers smugly, the thumbdrive clearly having his intended. “I can’t open it, so you’re going to tell them how, and then I’ll erase the records of you taking the files from the system.”

Ashley looks around at your group, shaking her head. “No.”

“Sorry, Mate. We ain’t really asking.” Butcher leans across A-Train, shoving the thumb drive closer to Ashley. “Do us this solid, and A-Train won’t go right up to Homelander and tell him about how he saw you also cuddly and tight with me, Soldier Boy, and his favorite missing person.”

Your heart jumps right into your throat. City lights. Music.

Suddenly, Ben’s elbow is planted against yours, and you’re pulled back down to earth just in time to hear Ashley yell, “This is fucking blackmail! I’ll fucking sue!”

“You cannot sue government officials, madame.” Frenchie says smugly, and Hughie shakes his head.

“That’s- Frenchie, that’s not even kind of true.”

“You’re also not a government official.” Annie adds.

Frenchie looks genuinely perplexed at this and gives Kimiko a confused frown, receiving a shrug in return.

“But,” you pipe up, your voice somehow bored and casual. “I’m legally dead. He’s-“ You jab Ben in the chest, and Ashley’s eyes widen. “Legally dead and an enemy of the state. You can’t sue either of us, not without admitting some Vought secrets that will be very bad PR.” You give her a twisted smile, leering across the table. “Help us, or, even if Homelander believes you, which we both know he won’t, you’ll get fired. And I’m sure they’ll be very understanding and normal about how they do it.”

You feel a flash of weird pride and realize you can see Ben fighting a smile in your periphery.

Ashley has a fearful expression, looking at where your elbow is still connected with Ben’s. “What- what's even on it?”

“Becca Butcher files.” You say, not taking your gaze from her, but you didn’t need to look around to see the sudden, rigidness with which everyone sat. You even felt Ben’s own shock run through you.

You’d be lying if you said hiding the exact contents of the file hadn’t been a very purposeful choice that you and Butcher had made. He’d cornered you, demanding to know what you planned on doing should Soldier Boy go after Ryan, and you’d told him that it wouldn’t be an issue. Ryan looked up to Homelander, that was why he stayed. He’d lost his mother, he didn’t trust Butcher, all the poor kid had was his insane, sociopathic father. Some part of you—small and sad and tired, still sitting on a staircase in Boston—understood that. But with Becca gone, gone forever, Ryan didn’t have a place to run like you’d had. Homelander was the default, and just kind enough to his son that Ryan could force himself to forgive Homelander again and again. Homelander was safe for Ryan.

You were going to make sure Ryan never saw Homelander as safe again. And that started with Becca Butcher and would end with you. So you and Butcher had agreed with a tight handshaked that he'd ripped his hand from right after, everyone was only going to know what they needed to. That was the only way it would work.

“Becca Butcher files?” MM repeats in a slow, incredulous tone. “You,” he turns with a look of shock to Butcher. “You knew about this? You’re fuckin okay with this?”

“I’m doing what has to be done, Mate.” Butcher answers flatly, then says your name. “Tell ‘em the plan, Love.”

“We need to get Ryan away from Homelander. Ryan needs to know about his mother.”

“No,” Ashley was emerging from the shock to try and stand from the table, but A-Train’s arm shot out, pulling her back down once more. “No,” she says again, looking around desperately. “Ryan, Ryan is all he has. All he cares about. You take Ryan he’ll lose his mind-“

“He’s already lost his mind.” Something snaps in your chest—a cruel feeling waking up as you watch Ashley fret about Homelander. “And I couldn’t give less fucks about what he cares about.” The feeling is crawling across your skin. “If this hurts him, good. It could never hurt him enough to make it right.” You hear drums and still can’t place where they’re coming from. “Now listen to the last fucking strand of your morality on your scalp and fucking help us.”

Ashley shakes her head again, this time with less certainty. “It’s- no- He-“ she pulls in a deep, unsteady breath. “He won’t stop until he gets Ryan back. He already is going insane about you and him and how he needs to get you back safe and put him back down, and if Ryan goes to then nothing will stop him-“

The drums are loud now, and something that’s usually there on Ben’s face is missing. Your own body doesn’t feel entirely normal anymore, but it’s not paralyzed or running. You can feel something in Ben caving, falling inward in a growing rhythm, moving in time as something in you grows. It's not in you now, it’s across you, coating your skin and singing with glee.

“Ashley,” the sound of your voice is a little far away, but you can hear it echo through you. It’s wired, hot, a warning.

“I- I can’t.”

“Yes, you fucking can.” You sneer. “You’re just too much of a pussy to do it.” Ben coughs in the way that you know means he wants to laugh, just as the drums stutter and move farther away.

“Please, I don’t-“

“Do not make me stab you.”

Ashley falters, looking you up and down. “You won’t.”

“Trust me, she will.” Ben smirks, giving you a nudge. “She’s surprisingly violent.”

“I, I won’t. I can’t. He’ll kill me-“

“You think we won’t?” Ben growls, any amusement in him gone as you feel something unbreakable and resolved through your body.

Ashley tries to run again, this time actually managing to get up from the table, but is knocked flat on her ass by A-Train before she can take two steps. You stand and give the itch, now under your tongue and your nails, a small scratch.

“Oh, fuck no.” You hear scrambling as you walk around the table and stop, staring down at Ashley.

She’s crawling back from you, back from the fire curling from your whole body, and disgust curls in your gut. For the first time you feel anger—insatiable and gory anger—all of your own. No city lights flash around you, no hollow music dances around your head. You don’t fear Ashley. She’s weak and spineless. She’s willing to cover her hands in Ryan’s blood, in your blood, to keep herself safe from Homelander. She’s staring at you, terrified, and you don’t need to touch her to know it isn’t even a fraction of all the fear you felt in that white room. That white room she knows about, may have seen, and is still trying to keep Homelander happy.

You bend down, letting all your hatred for Vought, for her, cover your features. When you speak, your words are clear and low.

“You are going to tell Butcher how to access the thumbdrive. A-Train and you are going to take some food with you, and walk back to the tower. You aren’t going to tell Homelander about this, and if he asks, offer him some leftovers. A-Train will erase your activity from the files, and you’re going to pretend the whole night never happened. If you tell Homelander about either me or Be-“ You correct yourself smoothly. “Soldier Boy, the last thing I will do before he locks me away again is kill you. Do I make myself clear?”

Ashley nods frantically, flinching when you raise your hand.

“Say it. Say that I made myself clear.”

“You-“ Ashley stutters, hiccuping. “You made yourself clear.”

You draw yourself back up. “Good. Butcher, I’m leaving. You can drive me and come back, or Ben can steal your car, but I’m leaving.”

When you turn, when you see the looks on your team’s face, all the anger is gone, and suddenly there is a crushing, painful weight of shame on your chest. They’re looking at you like Ashley had been, like you’re no better than Homelander. Like maybe you should go back in the room, it would be safer for them, it would be safer for everyone if you were far, far away-

“You heard the lady.” Ben is standing, walking around to your side. “It’s late. We’re leaving. Sunshine?” He offers you his arm, and you stare between it and your own, still covered in flame. Looking up, his face looks bored, as if this is just another Tuesday, and he offers his arm to women who are actively ablaze on a regular basis.

Your face feels slack, and all you can manage is to blink at him. I’ll burn you, Pretty Boy. It’ll hurt.

His brows subtly knit, and he doesn’t move. I’ll live, Sunshine. Don’t let them see you break. We’re going home.

You look back at your team, a wide circle of berth having formed around you and Ben. Butcher is looking between the two of you, and you recognize that glint in his eyes. You’d seen it before, but it’s only been really, truly directed at you once. In a graveyard in Boston, gravestones and bushes around you burning in the dead of winter, holding a bucket of ice that steamed off your skin. Under it, fear begins to creep back into you, exhaustion pushing it forward. Butcher reaches behind him, and your knees feel weak.

But you don’t fall. Zealous anger, strong and raw, spreads through you and Butcher’s movements still. You look down and find Ben’s arm unflinchingly looped through yours, his body at its full height as his eyes rake coldly over Butcher.

The silence hangs in the air, cut through only by Ashley’s quick, sobbed breaths. For a second you think the smoke seeping from you will overtake the room before anyone moves, but Butcher slowly reaches into his pockets, eyes not leaving Ben’s, and throws the keys at Hughie.

“Drop them off, Mate, then come right back. No bloody detours.”

Hughie stares at the keys, looking like he’s going to protest, but Kimiko grabs them before he can.

She turns to you, completely composed, no fear wavering as she locks your eyes with hers. I’ll take you.

Before you can thank her, Frenchie steps forward, signing as he speaks. “Mon Coeur, you cannot drive.”

She frowns. Yes I can.

“No, Mon Coeur, not legally.” Frenchie says, exasperated, and you have a feeling this is not first time they've had this debate.

Kimiko rolls her eyes at you. Fine. She signs back at Frenchie, throwing the keys at him. You’ll do it.

Frenchie stumbles as he catches them, giving Kimiko a shocked look, which she pretends not to see as she walks to the door, signing at you as she passes.

Let’s go before Butcher’s brain starts working.

A small smile threatens your face, and you move, tugging Ben’s arm only once before he falls into pace with you, Frenchie scrambling behind you both.

The car ride back feels longer. The moment you’d stepped out of the diner, your body had extinguished, and you had a worrying sense that the only thing keeping you from collapsing on the sidewalk was Ben’s arm firm through yours. No words were said for the entirety of the drive, you and Ben in the backseat as Frenchie drove and Kimiko lounged in shotgun, and your brain raced. Ben hadn’t let go, and the drums were fading in and out of your chest as he stared ahead into the night.

You arrived at the safe house, only a street lamp casting a dull glow across the street. The chill of the wind cutting against you as Kimiko walked you to the door, Frenchie mumbling something about keeping the car safe from Hooligans. Ben made to step inside, but halted, still not releasing your arm, as you stayed at the doorstep.

At his questioning glare, you tried to wiggle his arm from yours. “Go inside, Ben. I’ll be right there.”

He looked down at where he was still connected with you, and you felt reluctance in time with the drums, but he let go with a scowl. “Be fast,” he grunted, and stomped into the house.

You watched until he’d disappeared fully down the hall, turning to Kimiko only once his back was shrouded in the darkness of the house.

“Thank you,” you give her a soft smile, signing as you speak. “I- I don’t know what happened, I just-“

She shakes her head, and you trail off. I understand. I get angry too. She pauses, hands hovering for only a second. We are not like them. She points down the street, in the direction of the tower, and then past you, into the house. We get to be angry.

“I don’t want to be angry.” You say softly. “He wins when I get angry.”

Kimiko gives you a sad look, placing a hand on your arm. Her own frustration, her fear of Homelander, all the anger at the world, sinks into you. She holds your gaze for a second before drawing back to sign once more. He doesn’t win when you’re angry. He wins when you’re scared. You’re not Soldier Boy. Your anger is good.

You glance back into the house. “I think he- Ben- Soldier Boy- is scared. Or something. His emotions are really fucking confusing.”

You let him touch you. She signs. Does he know?

“He said he didn’t care, because he’s, and I quote, ‘not a pussy with something to hide’.”

But he’s scared? She gives you a questioning frown. Do you think it’s because of Russia? Could you fix it, like you offered for me?

“I’m not sure, but-“ you’re cut off as Frenchie honks the horn, leaning out the window.

“Mon Coeur!” His odd position makes his signing almost unintelligible, which he seems to realize, and raises his voice. “Monsieur Butcher says to get back ‘like a hare with a bomb up it’s arse'.”

Kimiko rolls her eyes at you, but signs a goodbye, giving your hand a small squeeze before returning to the car. As the engine rumbles, Frenchie pulling out the driveway, Kimiko’s calm faith lingers in you, and you walk back into the house, shutting the door behind you.

Almost all the lamps and ceiling lights of the house are off, the TV glowing from where you had abandoned it several hours ago. From the bottom of the stairs, you can see the upstairs hall is washed in a soft yellow, and when you reach the top Ben’s door is open, the light from within filling the hall. You stop at the entrance to his room, his back to you as he pulls a cotton shirt over his head.

You let out a small cough in a weak attempt to alert him to your presence.

“You’re allowed to just come in, Sunshine.” He grunts, still facing away. “I’m not a shy little virgin you need to pussyfoot around.”

You let out a small hum, walking over the threshold and stopping a few feet behind him. “Thank you.” You say softly, and he turns around to look at you.

His eyes are tired. Pained. Something looks like it’s pulling at him and it scares you. You’ve seen that expression before, when you’d woken him up that first day, at the Neuman mission, when you pulled him from nightmares with sharp hits, but never just there. It was always with something. This was like an island, just him and you, nothing pulling it out of him.

“Don’t thank me.” He says gruffly. Even his voice is drained. “You mostly held your own.”

“But-“

“And stop feeling bad about that Ashley bitch. She fucking deserved it.”

You stare at him. “You really believe that?”

He lets out a hollow laugh. “She was fucking pathetic. A fucking pussy. Fucking eating out Homelander’s fucking hand, brown-nosing him until he fucking cums and pays her, letting him take you-“ His jaw clenches. “I fucking meant it when I said we’re not going back Sunshine. I’m not a goddamn pussy liar.”

“I didn’t think you were. But, you…” Your voice fades as you try to find the words. “I could feel you. At the diner.”

“I fucking know, that was the goddamn point. I wasn’t going to let you start crying in front of those self-righteous pussies.”

“No, Ben.” You shake your head. “I could feel you. I could feel it.” You place a hand over your chest. “It was building. There was something beating against you, inside you. And you looked…” You watch him carefully. “Scared.”

“Fucking watch it.” He growls. “I don’t get fucking scared. I’m not-“

“A fucking pussy. I know.” You sigh. “I don’t want to, I can’t, fight right now. I’m so fucking tired. You can scream at me in the morning, but not right now, please.”

He stares at you, and just when you think he’s going to start yelling, he nods. “You’re…” He sounds strange. “You’re ok.”

Just like the last time he said it, the words aren’t phrased like a question. They don’t feel like a question. It feels like he’s just telling you again. But there’s something under it this time, something that makes his words almost unsure. Something that makes up your mind faster than you thought you would.

“Are you?” You ask quietly.

“Of course I fucking am.”

“Ben.” You tilt your head at him. “I’m going to tell you something, and I don’t want you to respond now.”

“You’re being fucking weird, Sunshine.”

“Please.”

He relents with a grunt. “Fucking fine. What.”

“I can fix it.” It’s so hard to keep his gaze as you speak. “It will take time, but I can fix it.”

“Fix what.” He scowls. “There’s nothing to fucking fix.”

“Your PTSD.”

“I don’t fucking have-“

“Ben, I could feel it. It’s dangerous. I could fix it.” You take a deep breath. “I can fix internal injuries as well. I offered to fix Kimiko’s muteness, but she didn’t want me to do it.”

“Then what fucking makes you think-“

“Muteness isn’t dangerous. And it would’ve been harder for me, I might have ended up mute myself. You’re dangerous like this. You can’t fucking control it, and don’t try and lie and say it’s under control. Ashley mentioned putting you back under, and you looked like someone was drowning you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Sunshine.” He leers at you. “You don’t fucking know me, know what it was like-“

“I do. You know I do.” You whisper, and the anger on his face breaks. “More than anyone else, I know. I can fix it, but you’ll have to let me. Just-“ You search his eyes, not sure what you’re looking for. “Just think about it. I won’t mention it again, I won’t even touch you, but my offer will stay on the table. Please, just think about it.”

Before you can leave, he grabs your hand. A rush of painful exhaustion runs through you, and there’s anger, but it’s not full of the fervor you’ve come to expect from him. It’s not even at you. It’s wide and almost consuming, leaving room for only a small kernel of something fragile and warm.

“I don’t care if you keep touching me, Sunshine. I've go nothing to hide from you, and that’s not going to change. But there’s nothing in me you need to fucking fix, so don’t fucking bother.”

“I’m not trying to fix you, Ben,” You murmur. "But remember, you burn, I burn. Please don't burn." Your last words are soft, and the kernel pulses.

“Good,” he grunts, releasing your arm. A small smirk crawls onto his face. “Now I don’t care if it’s here or in your room, Sunshine, but you need to go the fuck to bed. You look like shit.”

Just as he says it, the full weight of your fatigue hits you. You give a mumbled acknowledgement of his words, and try to leave the room, but all the adrenaline is gone from your system and nothing is left to stop the failure of your legs or droop of your eyes. The last thing you feel is something pulling you up before your knees hit the carpet, the last thing you see is green eyes on your own, and you hear an amused snort from above you.

“Goodnight, Sunshine. Try not to dream about me.”

You try to object, but sleep pulls you under before you can even remember why you need to.

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