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makeste · 3 years

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“but I thought about how I needed to say this”

a.k.a. yet another meta dissection of The Apology. I actually wrote most of this up on Friday night based on the original Japanese (@pikahlua has an excellent translation up here, and I also used @hanashimas’ translations as a reference as well), but I wanted to wait until the official release, though that turned out to be a mixed bag to say the least lol.

I would also recommend reading @pikahlua and @class1akids’ breakdowns of this scene (here and here, respectively), because they are excellent, and because if any scene deserves to have as many meta breakdowns written about it as possible, it’s this one.

anyway so here goes.

Caleb did a more accurate job with this than the fanscan, even if he did try his best to take us out of the seriousness of the moment by throwing in that swiss cheese line lol. anyway so there are two things I want to talk about here. the first is the line about Izuku not remembering, which I thought was a nice touch. of course he doesn’t remember what Kacchan said back then. he wasn’t exactly in the soundest emotional state after seeing one of the people he cares about most taking a near-fatal blow that was meant for him. I’d be shocked if he remembers anything about the aftermath (including the way he flew into a mindless rage afterwards) right up until the point when he entered the OFA Interstellar Party Void with Tomura. anyway, so I thought that was a nice callback.

and speaking of emotional states, the other thing I wanted to talk about is the part that Caleb got right which the fan scanlation didn’t. “but I had more to say.” in other words, “stop trying to win on your own” wasn’t just a one-liner; it was meant to be the beginning of a much longer speech. “there were other things that I needed to say.”

like, can we just stop and talk about that for a second. because basically what this means is that in that instant, when Kacchan pushed Deku out of the way and got impaled, his one and only thought was that he needed to apologize to Deku. his life was presumably flashing before his eyes, he had no idea if he was going to survive or not, and the only thing on his mind was how urgently he needed to make things right with his former childhood friend.

moving on!

so I have a confession to make, which is that I am relieved to see Katsuki describing this as the reason why he bullied Deku, as opposed to Horikoshi trying to retcon it into some sort of “secretly he was just trying to protect him and keep him out of harm’s way because he was worried” thing, which ngl would not have gelled very well with me. the thing is that I’m really not a fan of the whole “Kacchan Did Nothing Wrong” mentality that some fans seem to have. like, I have seen all sorts of convoluted attempts to find excuses for Katsuki’s shitty behavior, but in my view those attempts undermine what I love about his character in the first place. Katsuki is such a great character specifically because he is not perfect. his redemption arc is so compelling because he was such a giant asshole at the start. he was completely at fault, and he acknowledges this, and takes full responsibility for it. and that is fucking fantastic.

his arc is so great because it doesn’t rely on garnering sympathy by giving him a Tragic Past, or by trying to foist the blame for his behavior over on someone else. it’s an arc that acknowledges that redemption isn’t something you achieve by making people feel sorry for you; it’s something you have to earn by actively working to change and do better. and by forgoing the “misunderstood/tragic past” route, Horikoshi is making a statement that anyone can go down the wrong path, but that more importantly, anyone can also choose at any time to turn away from said path. there is only one requirement for doing so, and that is realizing that you’ve done wrong, and deciding that you want to change.

anyway, so in chapter 284 Kacchan of course had that whole speech about Deku not taking himself into account, and mentioned how that made him want to keep his distance. and a good chunk of fandom took this to mean that Katsuki’s bullying was actually a misguided response to Deku’s reckless tendencies -- sort of an “if I show him how weak and powerless he really is, I can get him to accept the reality that he’s quirkless, and that being a hero will just get him hurt or killed” type of thing. and I won’t lie, for a good while I was wondering myself if Horikoshi was really going to go down that route. and like I said, I am honestly relieved that he didn’t. not only for the reasons stated in the previous paragraph, but also because the message that would have sent -- that there are certain circumstances in which bullying can almost be excused because the bully had Good Intentions and was just trying to save the other person from themselves, and so it Wasn’t That Bad, Actually -- is all kinds of fucked up to say the least. so yeah, I’m glad we ended up steering well clear of that.

(ETA: this post was long enough already so I edited out the 3 additional paragraphs I originally wrote analyzing the dialogue from 284. but just to be clear, I’m not trying to imply that Kacchan worrying about Deku’s recklessness is a retconned thing that Horikoshi only threw into the story recently, because there are multiple instances throughout the story where he clearly is worried and in total denial of it. but I firmly believe those feelings are not what led to the bullying. they’re two separate things. Kacchan worrying about Deku is what prompts him to yell at him in chapter 1 when Deku comes to save him. but it’s not what incited him to burn his notebook and taunt him earlier in that same chapter. that action had a much meaner and more selfish motivation behind it, and I’m glad Horikoshi didn’t try to change it up last minute, because it wouldn’t have felt right.)

thankfully as of this chapter I think we can safely cross that out as a possibility, as we’re given the true explanation straight from Katsuki himself. and the truth is that he bullied Deku out of insecurity and jealousy and fear and intolerance. there was nothing noble about it. there were no good intentions concealed in his actions. there are no justifications given, no excuses offered, and no mitigating circumstances to be considered, other than the fact (which neither he nor Horikoshi bring up) that he was and is still a child, and that children make mistakes.

it’s an explanation that challenges many of fandom’s ideas on who is and isn’t eligible to be redeemed. there is no Ozai in Katsuki’s backstory. there’s no great tragedy that he spent a lifetime trying to rise above. the only villain in Katsuki’s story is Katsuki himself. the only darkness that he has to overcome is his own. and it’s challenging, because I think many people believe the only way someone can be redeemed for doing bad things is if bad things happen to them in return. but what Horikoshi is saying here is that that’s not the case. bad doesn’t erase bad. and the one and only way to truly earn redemption is by doing good.

and that’s what makes this such a phenomenal scene for me. by not shying away from Katsuki’s flaws and failings, and having him take full responsibility for them, Horikoshi keeps the apology from being self-serving, and underscores the true depth of Katsuki’s character development. the level of self-awareness he has here is something most people can only dream of. which is very fitting, as that’s perhaps the most important takeaway from his character arc -- that it’s only by acknowledging your own weaknesses and flaws that you can learn to overcome them and reach your full potential.

one last thing to point out here, which is that in the panel where Katsuki finally acknowledges his terrible treatment of Deku, Deku is not even visible. instead, Horikoshi drew the panel from a perspective that makes it appear that Katsuki is addressing this particular line not just to Deku, but to all of his classmates.

again, he shows him taking full responsibility and admitting his wrongdoings in front of the people whose opinions and approval he cares about most. and just to clarify in case there’s any confusion from Caleb’s translation, Kacchan’s wording makes it very clear that he wasn’t just “mean” to Deku, but that he full-on bullied him (he uses the same verb -- “ijimeru” (苛める) -- that he did back in chapter 284). there’s no attempt to downplay his actions here.

moving on now, this chapter also reaffirmed another thing about Deku and Kacchan’s relationship which I was glad to see revisited -- Kacchan’s unwavering belief in Deku’s ability. this is one of those paradoxical things about their relationship which I’ve always been fascinated by, but which is also kind of hard to explain, because I don’t want it to come off like I’m trying to put a positive spin on something which was unequivocally awful. like, please don’t think I’m trying to say that Katsuki’s bullying of Deku was in any way a good thing. but that being said, there’s also a strange irony at play here, which is that Katsuki’s jealousy and insecurity also betray the fact that even at his very worst, he never once underestimated Deku. he has always believed in Deku’s strength, even when that strength pissed him off and made him afraid and uneasy.

no one else -- not All Might, or even Deku’s own mom -- believed from the get-go that Deku could become a hero. but Katsuki never once counted him out, even when he was calling him a pebble in his shoe. he confesses here that even though he “tried to act superior by rejecting [Deku]”, in truth he was never able to shake the feeling that Deku was above him. long before he ever understood the concept of “win to save”, he knew instinctively that there was a strength in Deku’s heart that couldn’t be measured, and which had the potential to surpass even his own strength. and I’ve always felt that this was so important, because it’s the one aspect of their early relationship that hinted that on some level, however subconscious, Katsuki held the same type of faith in Deku that Deku always held in him. it was one of the few things that hinted at there being a possible path towards reconciliation one day. and it paved the way for the most important shift in their relationship to date, when Katsuki finally realized who Deku got his quirk from, and responded not with resentment or spite, but with acceptance.

moving on, I also really love the way we see them portrayed at the different stages of their childhood throughout this speech, and how it perfectly lines up with the dialogue. from small children (when Katsuki talks about his insecurities first manifesting), to middle schoolers (when he talks about the bullying), to high schoolers (when he talks about the past year and everything he’s learned at U.A.). Horikoshi really didn’t have to go that hard, but he did, and that’s why we love him.

and then we finally get to That Part.

where do I even start with this there are so many things omg.

the bow. this is the one and only time Katsuki has ever bowed to anyone of his own volition as far as I recall. and this absolutely is a bow, just to be clear, even though his form is straight-up garbage (very Kacchan-esque, with his feet and arms spaced apart because he’s still a punk after all). this is Kacchan showing more humility and respect than he’s ever shown to anyone else in his entire life.

regarding “Izuku”, I actually have mixed feelings about this to tell the truth. I think it was a good call here because it was incredibly effective in setting the tone and showing just how serious Kacchan is. however if he continues to use “Izuku” rather than “Deku” from here on out, that would give the impression in hindsight that all his past usage of “Deku” really was meant as an insult, which would undermine some of my favorite scenes. I would really like to believe that since DvK2 or thereabouts, Kacchan has (mostly) been using “Deku (affectionate)” rather than “Deku (useless loser)”, lol. but if he switches to the “nicer” name on a permanent basis following his apology, it implies that the previous nickname was indeed being used cruelly. and so honestly I hope this was just a one-time thing, because I do think that in Katsuki’s mind, the name “Deku” hasn’t been meant as a slight to him for a long time now.

“my truth/this is what I truly feel” -- the word Katsuki uses in Japanese is honne (本音), and if you’re familiar with the concept of honne/tatemae, that’s the same “honne” he’s talking about here. it means that he’s casting aside all of his walls and facades and expressing what he truly feels. and of course, one of the fascinating things about Katsuki’s character is that he’s the exact opposite of most people in that he chooses to put his meanness on full display to the public, and ironically it’s the kindest parts of himself which he tends to keep the most carefully guarded and hidden away. this also means that while his rage and anger are very often insincere and put on just for show, those relatively few occasions where he lets his humanity truly shine through are pretty much 100% genuine, as is the case with this one here.

and Deku’s face says it all when it comes to how powerful those moments can be as a result.

and this, right here, is why it wasn’t enough for Katsuki to atone solely through his actions, and why he needed to actually say the words as well. it’s not that the words are more important; obviously the actions are far and away the most important part, and carry far more meaning. but the reason why Katsuki needed to say the words as well is simply because Izuku needed to hear them. needed to, and deserved to, because this is one of the most important people in the world to him.

and so he deserves to know that the relationship isn’t just one-sided, and that he is just as important to Kacchan as Kacchan is to him. he deserves to know that Kacchan understands how horribly he treated him, and that he’s sorry for it. and he deserves to know that Kacchan, without any expectation of it changing their relationship -- meaning that he will continue to feel this way regardless of what Izuku says or does from here on out -- cares about him. now more than ever, with AFO out there doing everything in his power to make Izuku feel as alone as possible, this is something that he really, really needed to hear.

so this part has some interesting wordplay which neither Caleb’s translation nor the fan scanlation was really able to get across. basically, in the Japanese version, when Katsuki talks about “those ideals”, Horikoshi uses the kanji for “ideal”, but pronounces it as “All Might.” obviously the meaning of this isn’t too hard to decipher, as we all know how much both boys admire All Might. to them, he absolutely is synonymous with the Ideal. so this is a way of showing that respect they both have towards him, even as Katsuki goes on to point out the one fatal flaw that All Might was never able to overcome.

and speaking of interesting wording, as others have noted, at this point in his speech Katsuki switches from “temee” (which he was using earlier during the “your strengths and my weaknesses” part) to “omae” (“omae” being a less insulting word for “you”, though still very manly and tough-sounding), which is definitely a big deal. though fwiw this is not the first time he’s used “omae” for Deku (he switches to it briefly right after DvK2, when he tells Deku “you had the strongest guy lay the groundwork for you -- don’t lose”, and then later when they’re walking back to the dorms and he says he’ll learn and get stronger by watching everyone around him just like Deku did). it’s definitely a good choice on Horikoshi’s part though, as it makes this last part of the speech sound more earnest and sincere.

just a quick note, he does indeed use a plural pronoun here, as in “the obstacles that you can’t overcome, we will overcome.” but as @pikahlua pointed out, the “we” here is ambiguous -- it could either mean “we” as in class 1-A -- “we will overcome them for you” -- OR it could mean “we” as in all of them -- class 1-A and Deku. “we will overcome them together.” idk about you, but I know which one gets my vote.

anyway, and so this is the line that finally wins Deku over and allows him to let go of his fears, however briefly. what I love about this is Kacchan’s utter conviction. one thing that Caleb’s translation doesn’t quite get across is Kacchan’s use of the word morenaku -- “without exception” -- when he talks about how they’re going to save everyone and win. it echoes that same sentiment he showed back during the Joint Training arc -- that it’s not a perfect victory unless they save everyone. every last person. and he explicitly lists Deku among their number, just so there can be no doubt.

and Deku’s response to this (or at least his thoughts, since he’s not really able to get many words out) pretty much brings everything full circle here.

he acknowledges that everyone else has gotten ahead of him. which is especially meaningful given who he’s standing directly across from. because for most of the series, as we all well know, it’s been Kacchan who was woefully lagging behind Deku in the character growth department. but now Deku himself is acknowledging that not only has Kacchan finally caught up at last, but that he and the others have surpassed him. which is only temporary, I should add, as I have zero doubt that Deku will catch up again soon. but the fact remains that just as Deku’s rapid increase in strength and skill left Kacchan scrambling to keep up earlier in the series, Kacchan’s extraordinary character development has now left Deku in that same position. as All Might once put it, “when he’s starting at level one, and you’re already at level 50, it’s only natural that you’ll be growing at different rates.”

and what’s so wonderful about this though is that the two of them are finally approaching that point where they’ve both caught up to each other and are finally starting to level out. Deku is a full-on badass, and Kacchan is out here talk-no-jutsuing with the best of them. the two of them have been chasing and chasing after each other this entire time, and now they’re finally just about ready to meet in the middle at long last, with each of them fully embodying both of those two crucial aspects -- win, and save.

just about. because Deku still needs some help catching up. but seeing as help has already been offered -- and accepted -- I can’t imagine it will be very long now, and I can’t wait to see him finally overcoming those fears and doubts with his friends by his side. it’s going to be such a powerful moment.

and last but not least,

or, as I prefer,

you had one job, Caleb. flkjsdlk.

but at least this provides a good opportunity to note that unlike the “we’ll help you handle it” line earlier in the speech, here the phrasing is left up to interpretation, as he doesn’t use a pronoun. so it could be “we know”, or, as the fan scanlation put it, “I know.” or it could be both. regardless, it’s good stuff.

anyway, and so Deku passes out, and in the process Horikoshi gives us one last parting metaphor, just in case anyone still thinks Kacchan is all talk because they haven’t been paying attention for the past 322 chapters (more likely than you think). once again, Katsuki’s actions speak louder than his words (even his nice words) ever could: he is literally there to catch Deku when he falls.

so that’s it! my sincere thanks to anyone who actually read through all of my endless ramblings about this scene which I have been waiting for since day one. props to Horikoshi for taking on an impossibly difficult task, and pulling it off with all of the emotion and care and nuance that I’ve come to expect from his writing. imo he delivered on every single level with the exception of the aftermath, which I don’t consider to have actually happened yet. Deku’s part of this is definitely a “to be continued.” but yeah, as far as Kacchan’s part goes, 10/10. so fucking proud of this kid.

#bnha 322 #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bakudeku #bnha meta #bakugou meta #deku meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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inkyblinders · 3 years

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Dancing with the Devil: Part II

Part 1

Pairing: Luca Changretta x Reader

Author’s note: This was so embarrassing to write not because of smut...but because I’m crushing hard on Adrien Brody right now. And I can’t even share this obsession with anyone because… he’s kinda niche? Someone please reassure me that I’m just going through a phase because dear God why can’t I stop watching Darjeeling Limited just to see him ahhh.

The story picks up right after the end of Part 1, so I recommend reading that first. Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated, let me know what you think!

Summary: Following your meeting with Luca Changretta, you face the Shelby family and Tommy's reaction. (2.6k words)

Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing

Tag: Let me know if you would like to be added or removed

@anythingwriter, @rrtxcmt, @shut-chan

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You barely make it into your bedroom before he is all over you. The buttons of his crisp, tailored shirt fall like marbles. He moans when you nip the skin of his neck, right over his tattoo of the black cross, legs tangled together like a depraved waltz.

When he grinds into you, you shudder deliciously at the hardness that meets between your bare thighs.

How easy would it be for him to kill you after he fucks you, leaving your corpse twisted in the bedsheets. You know Tommy would find it when he eventually remembers that he has not seen you for days.

“Signorita, you know I come to you with the most honorable of intentions.” He murmurs, as if sensing your thoughts.

“You're not a very honorable man then.” A laugh that turns into a gasp as he trails his hand lower and strokes between your legs. No, not very honorable at all. And pretty soon all thoughts of honor are forgotten as he coaxes a moan from your throat.

His fingers are magic. The cold outline of his onyx rings scald your skin each time he crooks a finger inside you. Knowing exactly what you need, seeking your depths, swirling, rising to rub the clit, all the while exploring the flushed expanse of your body with his other hand.

Shoulder to breasts to hips and back again.

Without meaning to, you’ve let this stranger take control of your entire being. But God, do you crave this pure ecstasy.

It’s as if he wants to know precisely how much you can take before you're undone. So when you clench around his hand and feel the familiar ache he is right there, helping you ride the wave of pleasure, never breaking the rhythm of his thrusting fingers even as you curse, rake your nails down his back.

You almost cry out his name when you come. But you bite into his shoulder instead.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna have to hear you next time.” He growls.

His words barely register as you come down from the high. Aftershocks spark like tiny flames. Now you are wearing his scent as much as he is wearing yours.

“Be inside me,” You whimper, tugging at his soft hair, urging him for more.

He rasps an empty warning, “What's my name, sweetheart?”

Of course. All this time you've never acknowledged you know of his identity. There was no use in trying to hide it now.

“Luca,” you breathe. And his eyes gleam with approval.

With a snap of his hips, he plunges into silky warmth. The fullness stretches you to your limit, head thrown back. It’s good, so good. Every withdrawal of his thrust is a blessing because you know what follows next. It’s him inside you again, wrapping you with his touch and the scent of tobacco and roses.

“Does your Tommy fuck you like this? Like the way I do?”

“He’s not mine.” You choke out, punishing Luca with a bite on the neck that elicits a chuckle rather than a yelp of pain.

He kisses you, your foreheads pressed together. “A damn shame for him.” Soon he starts to quicken his pace, going faster, more erratic, his breathing heavy upon your ears.

Yes, you urge him, come on, now.

And this is your chance. In a flash you roll on top of him, pinning down his shoulders with your hands. He tries to arch up but you stop him with a knee.

“How many men did you bring, Changretta?” You ask, making your voice rough to mask the lust, pressing your hands around his jugular.

It's a pleasure to see him like this. Shocked at your actions, maybe even scared. Naked with want but unable to do anything to relieve it. Unless he tells the truth.

“Fifteen. Why baby, am I not enough for you?” He laughs breathlessly, hands trailing goosebumps along your hips, tracing the contour of your breasts. The jib doesn't hurt you. After all, men have said worse. He tries to surge into you again, and his hot member pulses on your thighs.

“Do you swear on your honor? That you’re telling the truth?” You insist, squeezing him harder. The touch brands his skin as much as it brands yours.

In a voice full of self-mockery he says, “Yes I swear on my honor. Now let me in, clever Isabel.”

You take him in you, the sensations amplify a thousandfold. You try teasing him, going slowly in and out, but soon you are caught up in the sensation of him completely at your mercy and you ride him, faster, until you keen his name, until he too is undone.

****

Through the haze of dawn, he stumbles out of bed and gets dressed. Before he dons his hat once more, Luca leans down to whisper in your ear, as soft as sin.

“You tell Tommy Shelby he may expect a visitor in the night. I'm coming for him as the angel of death. The vendetta has begun…” He kisses your hair.

“I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

The door clicks shut. You rise from your pillow, and a small, hard lump rolls next to your hand.

It is a signet ring of onyx and gold.

****

“So we all get a death letter from the mafia, but Izzy gets jewelry?” Ada huffs as the family filters into the betting shop. As usual, Tommy holds court at the front of the table, brooding over a glass of whiskey. You roll your eyes as Arthur and John try to cover their snort of laughter with a cough.

“If you want it, you can have it, Ada. He’s probably planning on killing me too.”

“Doubt it. You’re not a Shelby, and we’re the ones who killed his father. Well, someone did, to be precise.” She shoots a bitter look at Tommy, who doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed.

Despite Ada’s matter-of-fact tone, the words cut to your heart. Not a Shelby.

It’s not her fault. No one knows you’ve been sleeping with Tommy, not even your dearest friend. It’s a lonely secret to keep, but at least you can look at the family square in the eye and not have to worry about the things they say behind your back. Or worse, pity you.

You can handle the violence and moral ambiguity of Tommy’s business. But to lose the love and respect of the Shelbys would break your heart.

“What was the mafia man like, Izzy?” Finn asks eagerly. It’s obvious the boy is thinking of the dashing, gun-wielding gangsters he’s seen in the pictures.

“He was a wrinkly old brute. Kind of like your arsehole brother Tommy.” A smile to take the edge off the insult. But Tommy only looks off into space. As if he hasn't paid attention to this entire conversation.

Arthur clears his throat. “Now, let’s get one thing straight. It was me who pulled the trigger on his dad, so the blame falls on me.” He pats Linda’s hand even as his voice is heavy with guilt.

“No one’s blaming you Arthur, you weren’t the brains behind the operation, no offense.” Ada says. He is about to say something when Polly cuts in.

“Stop squabbling like children. We’ve all voted for truce, despite everything Tommy’s done to us—” The words nearly having us hanged hover pointedly in the air. “—So let’s focus on the matter at hand." She fixes Tommy with a sharp look.

“What’s the news from Camden Town? Will Solomons help us?”

“No.” He says tiredly. And all of a sudden you feel sorry for teasing him. He look gaunt. There are shadows under his eyes, even more so than usual. Without you to remind him to eat, you can imagine his diet for the past few days consisted more of alcohol and cigarettes than anything substantial.

“Spent three hours on a fucking tour of his bakery and another pretending to drink his piss-poor rum. I think he was trying to get me sloshed so I’d forget what I came for.” Tommy rubs his head.

“He’s refusing to send his men to help. Said he’s not going to go after another oppressed people.”

“Did you tell him the Italians are rounding up Jews in their country as we speak?” Polly asks incredulously.

“Wouldn’t make a difference to Alfie. Besides, that’s just an excuse. He’s really just a fucking coward.”

Polly looks troubled at this, as does the rest of the family. Everyone had been counting on Alfie’s friendship with Tommy, however peculiar, to help them with the vendetta. What they hadn’t expected was his extreme sense of self-perseverance. How are they going to protect themselves now?

“Before everyone panics, I’d like to say something.” Tommy clears his throat, setting down the whisky.

“As you may all know, two nights ago our Izzy encountered Mr. Changretta in the Garrison. He bought her a drink and asked her to deliver an official beginning of the vendetta.” He chooses this time to finally look at you. You hold his gaze until he looks shiftily away.

“We can also assume that he has been scoping out Small Heath, looking for any weaknesses on our turf. Now, Izzy has something to share with you all.”

You stand up uncertainly. The last time a woman other than Polly tried to speak her mind at the table it had been Esme, who still refuses to come to the betting shop unless Tommy is not here.

“While Mr. Changretta was, er, indisposed at the Garrison, I found some items in his coat that I think could be useful.” You fish out a passport and a stack of papers from your skirt pockets.

“Good job, Izzy! Oh, I knew we could count on you more than my idiot brother.” Ada beams.

“Becoming a right little spy, eh?” John ruffles your hair good-naturedly. As everyone gathers around, Polly gives a low whistle.

“Goodness, if this is your definition of an ugly brute, I wonder who’ll really catch your fancy, darling.”

You flush. The documents were obtained shortly after Luca had fallen asleep. It was an exercise in agility, trying to extricate yourself from his tangle of limbs, especially when you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed, encased in his warmth.

To your own credit, the papers were highly useful indeed. Some were maps of Birmingham, circles drawn in places where the Shelbys are known to frequent. The Garrison. Charlie’s Yard. The Arrow House. There was also stationary from The Stanton, a hotel just outside of the city.

There had been another piece of paper in the stack, a letter. But you kept that for yourself.

“We all have Izzy to thank for bringing us this valuable information.” Tommy’s voice rises above the chatter. “I will be personally examining all the documents and think of a plan. In the meantime, everyone stay alert, stay armed, and stay together.”

“Now if no one has any further questions, I need to have a private word with her. Alone.”

*****

You twirl the onyx ring around your finger as everyone filters out. It’s much too big but you still wear it anyways. The thick band of gold is comforting in its own way. And despite what you told Ada earlier, you don’t want to give it to anyone else.

Tommy’s curt voice snaps you from your reverie.

“Was it good, then?”

A small muscle tics on the underside of his jaw. His previously blank expression is now cold. The coward in you compels you to feign ignorance.

“What do you mean, Tommy?” You ask lightly.

“Did it feel good to have that fucking wop inside you?”

You burst out laughing. “Christ, Tommy. Did you pick up that word from Alfie? You sound bloody ridiculous when you’re trying to be crass, you know.”

“Don’t fucking change the subject, Isabel.” Tommy snaps.

“Oh, so I’m Isabel, now? You only call me that when you’re trying to get me in bed. Is that what you want? A bit early in the evening if you ask me.”

“What I want for you is to tell me how it felt having that man inside you, inside---”

You blaze with anger. “My sex life is none of your business, even if you are an occasional participant. I did what you would have wanted, and now I’ve got intel on the Changrettas that could save your arse!”

“Do you know how dangerous it could have been? Fraternizing with the enemy is exactly what got us into trouble with the Changrettas!”

“And fraternizing with them again has given us an advantage. We know how many associates he’s brought with him, and where they are staying. Good God,” Your eyes widen as you see the mutinous look on Tommy’s face. “Are you jealous?”

The silence of the room presses in until it's almost palpable. Finally he rubs a hand over his eyes, looking utterly defeated.

“I have no right to.” He says, pained. “But I am, just the same.”

The admission of his feelings would have made your heart soar a few days ago, before you met a man who enchanted you in the Garrison. You only laugh bitterly.

“What makes this different from all those other times you made me seduce the men you wanted to spy on?”

He says nothing. But what else is there to say? The past is in the past, and so many hurts have been caused by the both of you, it would be impossible to untangle it all.

You soften your voice, laying a hand on Tommy's arm.

“Let me continue seeing him. He wants me, and we can use that. You know it will be help, you know it might save us all.”

A breath flutters in your chest as you wait for his decision. If Tommy allows it, you’ll do it in a heartbeat. The Shelbys are your family, whether you're one in name or not.

But if he refuses, then perhaps… Perhaps he might actually care for you, deeper than jealousy, deeper than he admits.

“Very well.” Tommy says finally, and something in your heart shatters. The corners of your mouth curve up in a wobbly smile.

“Thank you for trusting me, Tommy. I won’t let you down.”

“You would never let me down, no matter what you do. Just…Be careful, Izzy.”

He closes the distance between you and enfolds you in a hug. You enjoy this quiet warmth, as fragile as spider's silk. With a small laugh, you pull away, patting his arm before turning to the door.

You don't look back to see if he follows.

#luca changretta #luca changretta smut #luca changretta x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 3 years

Text

Good Girl, Bad Boy (Pt. 07 of 15)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 1.6 K

Summary: You're the extreme opposite of Billy Hargrove. The good girl, with perfect grades, the child every mother wants to have. And you don't want to have nothing to do with his kind. Ignoring Billy – and his constant, lingering stare – became an habit. But after you're put together for a special school program, you'll have no choice but to get along with him. And soon enough you'll find out that Billy is so much more than just Hawkins' bad boy.

<-Previous part (06)

Next part (08) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

Don't Go

Billy did threw the keychain away when he got home. It was on the trash can he has in his bedroom, beside the desk. It remained there, among a few school papers for half an hour before he took it again.

It went right back to it's previous place at the nightstand.

Billy is deliberately skipping class. It's the fourth day now, and he doesn't feel like he'll be returning tomorrow.

He leaves everyday at the same time he would for school, and returns after. But he drives to lonely places where he thinks he can run away from his own mind. But it is everywhere he goes.

She is everywhere he goes.

Billy Hargrove did considered going back to his old ways. He even managed to make his way to the phone, ready to call Stacy again. But when he picked up the phone, he caught himself halfway through her number. The number that belongs to the girl he can't stop thinking about. To the girl he can't ruin. Whose life he can't destroy.

She's too good for him, and he knows that. An angel, as stupid as it may sound coming from a asshole like him. Because that's what Billy thinks he is. He'd live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve (Y/N). Her smile, her laughter, her blushing cheeks. Her amazing, sweet scent, that shine in her eyes when she looks at him.

What does that even mean?

Billy is looking at Hawkins, parked on this cliff. (Y/N) would like it, and he wonders if she ever came here. Probably not, since the only people who know this place are those who come here for a hook up. There are a lot of places Billy would like to show her, some of them would take an hour drive through the woods, but it's worth it. He found them soon after getting into town, because he couldn't handle to stay still, so he drove. Pretty much as he's doing now, constantly running away from something that's inside of him.

Sighing, he pushes the car door close. At this time, he should be leaving school, going to her place as always. Today they'd go over the Biology class, if he's not mistaken. (Y/N) loves it, mostly when it's about animals. She loves birds. She didn't had to tell him that, he got it from the way she smiled as the teacher spoke.

These little things, the small details, as silly as they may be, are making him fall harder.

But he can't.

Well, he can.

But not her. Billy knows who he was. Or who he still is. So he knows what people will say about her. They'll call (Y/N) mean names, say she's just another of his sluts. And that's something he can't do, not to her.

But despite knowing this is the right thing to do, it hurts. It hurts that he has to step away from her, for good this time. Billy doesn't know how he'll live from now on without their daily meetings. Without her soft voice, her sweet scent inebriating him every damn time.

He has it bad.

It's only worse because he remembers it clearly, that day at that stupid parlor, how she said they could try. They could wait and see what happens.

That was a chance. A small one, that probably would lead to nothing, but still, a chance. Something he never thought he'd get. Not with (Y/N). But now, he won't even try anymore.

This might be love, he thinks. Putting someone else's well being before his own.

It's a hard thing to acknowledge, but when it's real, there's no way to run from it.

Sighing, Billy starts the car, putting the daisy keychain on the passenger seat. For a moment he sees her image, looking at him and smiling. On the next second, it's gone.

With a weight on his chest, he maneuvers the car, heading back to the hell on Earth he calls home.

“I don't know, Nan. He just... He disappeared. Like smoke in the air and I don't know why.” Sitting shotgun in Nancy's car, you let your heart out. Billy didn't show up at school last week, and not today either. It's been five days already, and he doesn't even answer your calls.

“You know Billy Hargrove, (Y/N). I'm not impressed with this sudden change and neither should you.”

“No, Nan...” Running a hand through your hair, you sigh. “Trust me, Billy... He's not like that. Not with me at least and I know what you'll say. That he lies to get girls but... I've seen how he treats them and so have you. He... He never yelled at me, or called me bad names, he...” You're defending him. The idiot fled with no explanation and still, you're defending him.

“(Y/N), I trust your judgment.” She stops by your place, turning her body towards you. “If what you're saying it true, go after him.”

“I–”

“Look, I get that you don't want to talk about it because you're scared of having feelings for the bad boy, and I'll wait until you're ready, but honestly, I think you know what you feel.”

Looking down at your hands, you blush. “I really like to be around him, Nancy.” Your voice is low and weak, as you admit it to her and to yourself at the same time. “And I miss him.”

“Don't call him, then. Go after him.” She touches your shoulder, smiling. “...Just don't let Steve know Billy is making you sad because you know he'll freak out.”

“God, no!” Giggling, you reach for your bag on the backseat. Steve looks out for you, even now, and it's good to know he has your back. But you definitely don't need the two guys having a fight over some misunderstanding. “Tell him I'm fine. Because I am. I'll... I'll fix things. And if Billy does want to stay away from me for whatever reason... I'll be alright.”

“Good luck and call me if you need anything.”

“I will. Thank you, Nan.” Giving her a hug, you step out of the car, heading inside. “Mom! I'm home!”

“Hi, darling!” She shouts from upstairs. Taking the chance, you run to the phone, quickly dialing Billy's number. It's not the first time you call, and whenever he picks up, you say ‘hello’ and the call is cut. It breaks your heart every time.

“Who's this?” A female voice answers, slightly pissed.

Relieved, you breathe out. “Hi, Max. It's (Y/N).”

“AKA the reason why the shitface has been locked in his bedroom like a jerk.” She speaks fast, and you furrow your eyebrows and giggle. “I think Billy is in love with you or something.”

“What?” Max says as if it's no big deal, as if she didn't made your heart start beating insanely fast, neck and cheeks heating up. “I-I don't think–”

“Billy never gets upset over a girl so...” Her voice fades, and you hear something in the back, wondering if it's Billy. “He has your keychain, by the way. A daisy flower.”

“Keychain?” You don't remember any keychains, so you just sigh, pacing around. “Max, can you do me a favor? I'm going there so don't let Billy go anywhere. And when I ring the door bell, let him answer it, please.”

“Alright. But don't take too long. Neil will be back around eight.”

“I'm going now. Thanks.” And you hang up, heading to the front door. “Mom, I'm going to get Billy!”

“Alright!” Good thing she doens't ask much questions, God bless her for that.

You try not to drive too fast, and you try to tell yourself this is no big deal. But you don't know what will happen. Preparing yourself for a heartbreak sounds good, so you decide to expect the worse.

So when you're parking on the sidewalk in front of Bill'y house, you know what you'll do. You'll put a finger on his face and ask what the hell he's thinking skipping class like that.

When you reach the front door, you realize you've never been here. Well, Billy did dropped his sister a few times before driving back to your place. And then, you're whole act drops. “Damn it.” Pressing the door bell, you wonder if you'd have enough time to just run back to the car and leave. There's a discussion inside the house, with Billy telling Max to get the door, and she refusing. You would have time to run, but you decide to be brave. So you stand your ground, pressing the bell again.

“Damn you, Maxine.” Billy groans, and on the next second the door is violently pulled open.

You freeze, watching as Billy's face drops. “Hi.” You mutter, looking down at your hands, blushing. You shouldn't be here. This is stupid. Whatever Billy said at Scoops Ahoy, it's over. But still, you want to try. To break through him, even if it means you'll be pushed further away. “C-can we talk?”

There's silence, several seconds of silence. And you curse yourself. Billy would never like you. He's the bad boy Nancy warns you about, that girls like you should avoid. Biting your lip, you feel your throat burning, tears wanting to make their way to your eyes.

“Nevermind, I shouldn't have come.” Pushing the words out, you turn on your heels to leave. But Billy grabs your arm, forcing you to stop. “Let go.” You beg, looking back at him. Your heart is breaking and you don't even know why. You just need to be away from Billy right now, and from all these feelings boiling inside you.

“No, please, just... Don't go.” His grip gets loose, and his hand slides from your forearm to your hand, and he holds it, pulling you inside. “Come in.”

Taking a deep breath, you weakly nod, letting him pull you into the house.

@multific @clockworkballerina @tina1938 @graciehams @moatsnow @all-the-stars-on-your-skin @captain039 @rebelemilu @vivian-likes-frogs @prettyinpunk85

#billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x y/n #imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy stranger things fanfiction #billy stranger things imagine #billy stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #imagine stranger things

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sequinsmile-x · 3 years

Text

Concussion

Emily gets hit over the head. Aaron worries.

Based on a prompt from the lovely @ssa-sparks

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Mentions of minor injuries/blood/stitches etc

Read over on Ao3 or below the cut!

It happens so fast.

Emily and JJ go in first at Aaron’s request, aware that there were children on the scene and their presence would startle them less. They clear the first floor of the house, JJ directing the two young boys they find in the living room out of the front door. Emily opens the door to the basement, clearing the way as she walks down the stairs.

As soon as her feet hit the bottom step she is hit in the head, hard, and falls to the ground. She cries out as her vision and hearing briefly go, the pain spreading throughout her skull immediately. She isn’t sure exactly what happens, she can hear the muffled sound of JJ yelling, and the others rushing in. The unsub apprehended by Derek almost immediately, the 2x4 he had used to hit her abandoned on the ground next to her.

Emily closes her eyes to block out the light that suddenly seemed too intense. She smells his cologne before she sees him. Something warm and uniquely Aaron filling her senses. Something that smelt like home. When she reopens her eyes Aaron is there, leaning over her, concern written all over his face.

“Em? Are you hurt? What happened?” He asks, grimacing when he looks at her properly.

“He got the drop on me.” Emily says as she sits up, her eyes briefly going blurry again. Aaron reaches out for her, his hands on her upper arms as he tries to steady her. She puts her hand to her forehead and pulls it back to see blood on her fingers. “Damn it.”

“What do you remember?” He asks, not bothering to cover his concern as he helps her sit up.

“Aaron, calm down. I didn’t even pass out.” She blinks a couple times, wincing as she again puts her hand to her head where she was hit. She shrugs his hands off of her, looking around the room at the local cops surrounding them, annoyed that despite the head injury she was the one who seemed to remember where they were. “I’m fine.”

He ignores her, his worry outweighing his usual ability on picking up on her frustration.

“Do you know where we are? What year is it? Who am I?” He asks in quick succession, dutifully helping her to her feet as she tries to do it herself, not making any comment when she grasps his bicep when she loses her balance.

“If you don’t stop, you won’t be my boyfriend for much longer, that much I can tell you.”

He ignores her again, used to being the one she would take out her frustration on, very rarely rising to the bait.

“The EMTs are outside, we’ll get them to have a look at you.” He says, following her up the stairs to make sure she doesn’t fall.

“Aaron.”

“Please don’t argue with me on this.” He pleads as they make it to the first floor, his eyes imploring her to just listen to him.

She gently nods her response and walks outside. She’s aware of his hand hovering just behind her lower back, ever ready to support her if she needed it, even if she didn’t want him to. ____________

“Why is it always you that ends up with a head injury?” Aaron asks quietly, his voice gentle as if he is avoiding making her inevitable headache worse.

She was sat up on a gurney, the EMTs having decided she needed to go to hospital to get checked over properly. Aaron was sitting on the edge facing her. Emily winces as he presses the ice pack the nurse had handed him against the gash on her forehead, the cold seeping in and making her head pound. They were waiting for the doctor to see if she needed stitches. The rest of the team were packing up at the precinct, waiting to meet them at the jet, leaving the couple to it.

It was well known that Emily wasn’t a good patient, neither of them were. In the few times one of them, or on one very stressful occasion for Dave both of them, were in need of a hospital check up since they got together they were only placated by each other. Raised eyebrows and vague threats enough to make them listen to the doctors as they were poked and prodded to make sure none of their injuries were permanent.

“I don’t always end up with head injuries, Aaron.” She says through her teeth. Her annoyance at him is lost in translation, the blood that still stained her face and had dripped down onto her chest removing some of its bite.

“Well you get more than the rest of us.” He briefly lifts the ice pack to look at the wound, his breath hitching when he sees it again. A mar on her pale skin, one of his favourite places to kiss her. He tenderly moves some of her hair out of the way, tucking it behind her ear with such affection she can’t help but smile at him despite her frustration. He puts the ice pack back down on her skin. “It’s like you’re attracted to 2x4s or something.”

“Shut the fuc-”

“Agent Prentiss?”

They both turn to see a doctor standing at the end of the cubicle they were in, an amused look on her face that told them just how much of their exchange she had overheard.

“Let's have a look at this head wound, shall we?”

Aaron moves the ice pack and stands up to give the doctor some room, but stays next to the gurney.

“Oh yeah, definitely stitches.” The doctor says, her gloved fingers pressing gently at Emily’s forehead.

“Seriously?” Emily says, staring at the doctor as she nods. “блять.”

The doctor looks concerned and turns to Aaron, her eyebrow raised.

“That’s normal.” He explains, a small smile on his face. “She always curses in Russian when she’s annoyed. Usually it’s aimed at me.”

“It's the best language to curse in.” Emily explains to the doctor before turning to glare at her boyfriend.

They patiently wait as the doctor sets up the stuff she needs to stitch Emily’s forehead. Aaron grabs her hand when he sees the needle the doctor moves towards her face as she explains it’s a local anaesthetic that will numb some of the pain. Emily raises her eyebrow at him, and mutters something under her breath about how she isn’t a child.

Neither of them acknowledge how tightly she squeezes his hand once the doctor begins. He leans down to press a kiss to the top of Emily’s head and smiles against her hair when she further tightens her grip on him. ____________

Emily was so relieved to get home she could have cried. The noise of the jet had made her head throb harder as the flight went on, the hours dragging on into what felt like days. Aaron had encouraged her to sleep on the journey but she refused, wanting to ensure her paperwork was finished before they landed. The promise of having the following day off getting her through the headache that was made worse by Derek and Spencer’s latest prank war.

She had caught Aaron glaring at them, an admonishment on the tip of his tongue but she had nudged him under the table with her knee before he could, a soft smile on her face as she looked at him adoringly.

Even when he pissed her off she loved him. And that pissed her off even more.

She hated being coddled, and even after all of this time with Aaron she still sometimes found his affection surprising. How easily he’d give it away to her, like it cost him nothing. How he’d buy her candy on the way home just because he walked past the aisle and thought of her. He’d touch her at any given opportunity. A hand brushing over her shoulder or her waist, pressed into her lower back as he guides her through a door. A kiss to her forehead, her cheek.

Ever since the EMT had told them she needed to go to the hospital he had been treating her like she was made of glass and she hated it, hated that he looked so guilty as the doctor had stitched her forehead back together. She knows he needs this, to look after her. Penance for what he deemed to be his fault since it was his decision to send her into the house first. So she lets him hover, with minimal barbs thrown at him so he knows when he is toeing the line between what she deems acceptable and what is too far.

She merely rolls her eyes at him, ignoring how it made her head burn with pain, when he insists on carrying her go-bag for her, but she stops him at opening her car door as he pulls their car up on their driveway. She’s out of the car before he can think about it, an eyebrow raised at him in defiance when he starts to protest.

As soon as the front door closes behind them he sets the alarm and throws their go-bags over the back of the couch. Emily takes off her shoes and coat, closing her eyes as her head swims when she bends forward to put the shoes away. When she’s upright again she knows he’s seen it, his eyes fixed on her.

“Why don’t you head on up sweetheart. I’ll be right up.” He says as he kisses her temple.

“Okay.” Emily replies, not having it in her to argue. “I’ll see you in a minute.”

Her nighttime routine goes by in a blur, and if questioned she wasn’t even sure if she would remember completing all of the steps. She turns off the main light, leaving only Aaron’s bedside light on, and climbs in under the covers.

When Aaron enters the room she is almost asleep, shocked awake by the room flooding with light. She groans, pulling the comforter over her head to block out what she can.

“Too bright.” She grumbles, her voice muffled.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He turns the light back off and sheds his suit, his jacket over the back of a chair in a corner.

He gets ready for bed and climbs in next to her, a smile on his face as he gently pulls the covers back from her face. He gently runs his thumb over the edge of the large white dressing on her forehead, the spares tucked in his go-bag with instructions from the doctor on when to change it written on his phone.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, his voice barely a whisper.

“Head hurts.” She admits, feeling able to do so now it was just the two of them in the safety of their bedroom, with no prying eyes or concerned glances from the team. Even though so much time had passed since Ian Doyle had torn through their lives, there was always a moment when she was hurt that she would see the panic on her friend’s faces. See them go back to the time they were all told she was dead. It made her want to protect them, claiming she was fine even though her head felt like it had been stamped on.

Aaron was different. There was so much naked honesty in their relationship, so much that could be said without either of them saying a word, that she knew he already knew how she was feeling at any given time.

At one point in her life she would have found it suffocating, the fact that someone could know her that well. When they started their relationship she kept waiting for it to happen, for him to be so good, so righteous, that it would tip her over the edge. Make her self-destruct and take him down with her. But it never came. Now she can’t imagine life without him.

“I know it does, baby.” He answers before kissing her forehead, his lips grazing the edge of the dressing. “Get some sleep.”

“Are you going to let me sleep?” She asks, voice thick with exhaustion as she curls into his side.

“I’m going to follow the doctor's instructions and wake you up every couple hours if that’s what you’re asking.”

“иди на хуй.”

He chuckles into the top of her head. “I’m going to choose to believe that's you saying you love me.”

“Whatever makes you feel better, honey.” ____________

“Em, sweetheart. You’ve got to wake up.” He shakes her slightly and can’t help the relief he feels when she groans.

“What time is it?”

“3am.”

“I hate you so much.” She grumbles before she pulls his arm tighter across her waist, wrapping herself up tighter in his embrace. She moves with a speed that surprises herself and reaches behind her to press her hand over his mouth. “If you even think about asking me what year it is and if I know who you are, I’ll make you sleep in the garden. Concussion or no concussion.”

He smiles against the palm of her hand and kisses it before removing it from his mouth.

“Straight to the garden?”

“The spare room or the couch are for good boyfriends who let me sleep through the night.”

He kisses her temple. “I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

“I know.” She says, already drifting back off to sleep. “And I love you. But let's go back to sleep.”

“I love you too.” He kisses her temple again. “See you in a couple hours.”

He smiles at, and ignores, the Russian curse words she mutters under her breath and strokes her hair until she falls asleep again.

He doesn’t sleep that night, keeping an eye on her until the sun rises.

When he falls asleep on the couch the following afternoon she purposely wakes him by turning the tv volume all the way up, disregarding the pounding in her own head.

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfic #hotchniss fluff #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #it's just fluff guys #and a bit of hurt comfort #Aaron being worried #Emily being a bit of a pain in the ass #Emily Prentiss whump #tw: minor mention of blood #tw: one mention of needles

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angelamajiki · 3 years

Note

could you write a tamaki nsfw where the reader has been kidnapped and realizes that tamaki will let them take out their frustrations on him sexually 👀 and so they really take advantage of it and he just takes it/enjoys it like “hell yeah i suck” bc he feels like this is retribution since he knows kidnapping is wrong?? anyways love your writing and am obsessed with it!!!!! tamaki is best boy so i had high hopes for this account and they have been more than met bc your writing is amazing 🥰🥰🥰

[ relief - suneater AKA amajiki tamaki ]

AN: waaaaaa thank you thank you 😖 this got intense, I hope you don't mind the liberties I took with the kinks 🙈

CW: yandere, captivity, face sitting, degradation, bullying, mommy kink, choking, watersports, orgasm denial, ruined orgasm, begging, overestimation, dom reader, sub tamaki, afab terms for reader

Being captive in Tamaki’s home for the past three months has left you more pent up than you would have thought. No privacy, only getting moments of peace when he was off patrolling left very little time, space, and energy to relieve yourself. The thought of using your captor for such a reason crossed your mind many a time, but damn if your pride wouldn't let your guard down for even just a moment of relief. But if he were ever to jump your bones first, you're not sure if you would deny him of yourself.

Tamaki knew it; he knew you were horny and, most importantly, desperate. He saw the way your thighs would shyly rub together when he forced you to cuddle up for movie night or how you arched your back when spooning in the early mornings. Were you waiting for him to make a move? The poor boy was practically creaming his hero costume every time he thought about you masturbating at home, without him. Don't you know he can cater to your every whim, your every fantasy, bunny?

Coming home, he could see how tense you were, even before you acknowledged his presence. Poor thing, the move stressed sure stressed you out, huh? Not to worry, Tamaki is here to help.

“Excuse me?” you were breathless, did he really just say that?

“Sit on my face. You're so tense! I promise it’ll help you relax. O-Or we could try something else!” he pleaded, desperate to please you. “I just want to make you feel good, to relieve some stress. Won't you let me help you?”

Letting your frustrations out on him? Now that wasn't a bad idea. You were tense, in more ways than one. As toxic as it may be, you wanted nothing more than bully the poor man into a crying fit. But fuck what would be toxic. You've been in captivity, for fucks sake. Slowly, you nodded and eyed him skeptically.

“Fine, but I'm calling all the shots. Got it? We're finished when I say so.”

Tamaki nodded and practically ran to your side, clinging to your leg. Bunny said yes! Finally, finally he could prove that he would be everything you could want, everything you could need.

“Yes, yes! Please, use me however you want. I'm yours to abuse. I know you're upset with me, so please, take whatever you want out on me. I can handle it.”

A snort left your lips. This is precisely what the doctor ordered. A little bullying and a few orgasms would have you feel right as rain. Pushing him down the floor, you instructed for him to fold his arms behind his back. Naughty perverts like him don't get to touch. Peeling your bottoms and panties off, you stuffed the dirty pair in his mouth.

“A disgusting pervert like you doesn't deserve to taste me on your tongue. I'll fuck your face, but I doubt it'll satisfy you.”

How cruel you were feeling at this moment. Taking your seat, your began to drag your clit against his nose and slightly parted lips, using his throat to steady yourself as your placed both hands there.

“You’ll breathe when I say you can, pig.”

Gasping and moaning softly, you applied pressure with your hands as your sloppy cunt rubbed all over his flushed face. His muffled whimpers, his labored breathing, it was music to your ears. The wetness covered his face from chin to nose, making a mess out of your throne. As you reached your orgasm, you pulled the panties out of his mouth before completely suffocating him with your twitching pussy.

“Make me cum with that pathetic mouth if you want to breathe, slut.”

Tongue darting out, Tamaki was quick to savor his swift meal, making your squeal as your squirt on his face. Your juices sprayed onto his face and chest, your own heaving and panting as you came down from your intense high. God, the wait was almost worth it.

“Aw, did you get hard from eating mommy’s cunt? Let me fix that for you.”

Springing his dripping cock from his pants, you pressed your palm to the tip and rubbed vigorously over his slit while gripping his balls with your free hand.

“Don't even think about cumming without permission.”

Quickly overstimulating him, you soaked in the pained whimpers and cries that left his lips. Mommy, mommy, mommy, please let me cum. Please, please, please. What a pathetic dog he was.

“And why should I let you, hmm? You agreed that I would take the reigns but I never said you were allowed to cum.”

You're going to ruin this orgasm, just like he ruined your life. You'll deny him all the pleasures of having the freedom to cum as he pleases, just like he snatched your freedom from you.

“From this point forward, you will only cum and touch yourself when I allow it. Understand, boy? If you agree, I'll let you cum.”

Practically screaming at this point, a myriad of promises left Tamaki’s lips as he bucked hard into your hand, growing more desperate by the second. Releasing his balls, you take only a single finger to his cock and barely rub the tip until he’s cumming and twitching all over himself as he cries from overstimulation and the first orgasm you gave him, a ruined one.

“One more thing. You'll be my personal toilet from now on too. You want my forgiveness, right?” You cooed, stroking his tears away. “Then you'll have to earn your position under me as my slave first. Open up.”

Obediently opening his mouth, Tamaki held out his tongue in anticipation, eager to take what you want to give. Sighing gently, you began to relieve yourself, laughing as your piss streamed all over his already wet face. After you were finished, you gripped his hair in a tightly wadded fist.

“Where are your manners, bitch? Lick mommy clean.”

Whimpering, he began to suckle your clit and lick your folds, savoring your flavor before pulling him off of you and striking him in the face.

“Don't push your luck. What do we say when mommy gives you a gift?”

“T-Thank you, mommy.”

He truly was in heaven.

#yandere tamaki amajiki #tamaki amajiki #tamaki x reader #yandere tamaki x reader #yandere my hero academia #my hero academia #yandere mha #mha #yandere bnha #bnha #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere x reader #yandere #WOOF WOOF

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lit-in-thy-heart · 3 years

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so to counteract some of the merlin angst that has been on my dash over the past few days, i just wanted to quickly talk about the hopelessly-devoted-to-gwen people in this scene:

yes i am pissed that they cut elyan out (i giffed this directly from iplayer, haven't edited it in any way) but we all know that he is grinning from ear to ear because his sister is queen and now can boss him about and he's never going to hear the end of it but he doesn't care right now

leon is smiling in a way that i don't think he's ever done. his whole face is quite literally illuminated...like even his beard seems to be beaming??? anyway. you can tell he's trying to keep a lid on it because he's a knight of camelot and has to be, in some respects, a machine, particularly when in the presence of other citizens (i'm not entirely sure exactly who is there but it's obviously more than just the knights, where he can let loose a little) -- but this is his childhood friend. two of them, really. he and gwen grew up together, especially with her mother serving in his household, and for him to be a knight and her to now be queen...he can't quite believe it. he looks so proud as well, and excited, like this is it, this is what we've been working towards. because gwen is so well-suited to the role and he knows it. and it gives them more opportunities to regularly interact with her and there will finally be a more constant and commanding voice of reason to help him out with the chaos of camelot's knights. he had always told her that she deserved the world, and now she's got it.

gwaine, shockingly, seems more composed than leon in terms of pure glee, but look at the way his head moves. maybe i'm projecting but it looks like he's rising on his tiptoes in an effort to see what's going on -- and he's raising his head to make eye contact with someone, perhaps? just that lil bounce i can't, you can see that he is actually thrilled and that smile is definitely more of a smirk -- though not a malicious one -- and i bet my ass that he's looking straight at gwen and thinking of a whole list of things to pass (good) comment on afterwards. most of them will include opportunities to take the piss out of arthur together (with merlin) because she can legally do that now. i wouldn't say that he's overwhelmed with joy, but he's definitely pleased. if he wasn't a knight then he would absolutely be turning around behind him and excitedly going 'i know her!!' and when he next goes to the tavern and gets slightly too drunk he will be telling people that he once flirted with the the queen but, being ever so humble and good, she didn't flirt back and it's a good job she didn't because then she wouldn't have become a kick-ass queen. and then he proceeds to ramble about how wonderful gwen is until merlin comes to collect him. but yeah in conclusion gwaine is happy but also very smug because percival owes him money (which is why he's out of shot because his barely contained annoyance at gwaine would ruin the celebratory vibe) because he fucking knew it would happen and he told half of camelot it would and now it has and he loves to be right. also gwen is great and is going to enjoy taking the piss out of arthur with the knights.

merlin just screams relief to me. obviously he's ecstatic, but the way that his smile sort of holds after he's shouted? and his eyes seem to be focusing on something different to the others? idk i just get the feeling that the others are looking at something and merlin is looking beyond it. as if he's running over the past few years and all the encouragement he's given these two people and is finally relieved that something hasn't blown up in his face for once. what's also interesting is where he's stood. obviously he's the protagonist so visually it makes more sense to have him there than on gwaine's shoulders to see over leon, but his placement at the front is like arthur and gwen are acknowledging the role he had in their relationship and saying you are important, thank you for what you've done. and merlin is seeing two of his closest friends marry, like leon, but he's also seeing the beginnings of the golden age that has been promised to him since he first arrived in camelot. in arthurian legend, merlin has the gift of foresight (for example he knows that nimue is going to trap him in a tree when he wants to have sex with her as soon as he sees her -- doesn't stop him from wanting to have sex with her but that's a whole other thing) and this gif sort of nods to that. he's not only seeing the ceremony, but he's seeing the future they will all build because of this marriage. because finally, finally, everything is starting to work out and he must be doing something right. and gwen! gwen is back! he can talk to her again!

in conclusion: everyone fucking loves gwen and is thrilled that she is officially joining the gang.

bonus: gaius is just glad that all the drama is over and that he's still alive

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athenadione · 3 years

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‘you are mine (and I am yours)’

In which you can find out the hard way that demons don't like sharing. @vi-la-vi

AthenaDione and I did a thing! Everyone loves jealous Damian, but hear us out....jealous Raven? Hope you enjoy! -Vi

I’m so incredibly honored to participate in this collab. Vi practically paved the way for me to give you all the delicious demon Raven smut that ensues and did a superb job writing the majority of this piece, as always. If you enjoy and feel so inclined, you can leave a kudos HERE on A03. Vi— thank you for allowing me to be a part of your writing process. You’re such a talented writer and I’m happy to have found you :) -AD

She couldn’t stop staring at him. Not just because it had been years since she last saw him, but because ever since she met him, Anna Vandergilt had thought of little else.

Damian Wayne.

They’d met at a benefit when both were sixteen years old, and it had been love at first sight. The elusive heir finally returned to Gotham after five years abroad, doing god knows what. She’d collected every bit of information she could about him, academic transcripts, tabloids, medical and legal records. Vandergilt influence ran deep and she had no compunction about using it to fuel her obsession. Securing an internship at Wayne Enterprises as Tim Drake’s assistant was just the latest step.

And now he’s here, and I won’t let him get away again.

Damian had to remember her, the spark when their eyes met, the unbreakable connection they’d made. He didn’t acknowledge it when they were introduced, but that was fine. He was an intense, secretive man and likely just didn’t want to make a scene.

Green eyes flashed to hers and narrowed, catching her staring. She willed herself to keep it together, sitting up straighter and crossing her legs in an attempt to draw his attention to the slit in her pencil skirt. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, and leggy, she knew how to make men stare.

Or so she thought. Damian had turned his attention back to Tim’s presentation, arms crossed and expression impatient. So serious. She planned ways she might be able to get him alone, with no one and nothing to distract him from her. After today, I’ll have more than just fantasies. She’d been looking for an opening to approach him all day and was sure she couldn’t wait much longer.

They broke for lunch, but just as she moved towards him she was intercepted by Tim.

“Hey Anna, can you run up to my office and grab my blue flash drive? I forgot to bring it down earlier.”

Get it yourself! she wanted to snap. An assistant position was well beneath her pedigree, and she hated taking instructions from common-born Tim Drake. Swallowing her irritation, she smiled and nodded.

When she finally returned, Damian had already gone, apparently having had a lunch appointment with someone else. Anna sighed. I’ll speak to him after work, I’m sure he wouldn’t say no to dinner and drinks. No man had ever refused her.

She spied him later as she was returning to the conference room, speaking to a dark-haired woman she didn’t know outside of his office. She took a moment to admire him in his suit, noting curiously that the girl with him was only casually dressed in black jeans and an off-shoulder top with a band logo. Unprofessional much? He’s probably scolding her about the dress code.

Just as the thought solidified, she leaned up and pressed a kiss to the underside of Damian’s jaw, tugging his tie playfully as she did so.

It was as though a bucket of freezing water had been dumped over her head. Anna stood stock-still, mouth falling open in horror. Who the fuck...how dare…?

The woman whispered something in his ear, kissing his jaw again as Damian rolled his eyes and smirked. She continued to stare, waiting for him to shove her away, glare, do something. She heard someone approach from behind.

“Ugh, those two,” Tim groaned.

“Who is that?” Her voice was tight and strained, and the man next to her gave her a curious glance.

“That’s Rachel, Damian’s girlfriend.”

“Oh,” she said, at a loss for anything else.

It’s not fair. I planned...I’ve been waiting…

She shook her head, determination moving in. A minor setback. He just needs to know there’s something better on the market. Vandergilts were practically royalty, after all. Her beauty and breeding were no doubt superior. She bit back her anger as Damian dropped a kiss on the other woman’s forehead before walking away.

Just a minor setback, she mentally repeated.

Tim’s assistant had a serious staring problem, and Damian was relieved when he was finally able to retire to his office. Annoying. The older man had joked earlier that Damian’s constant absence in Gotham and avoidance of the public eye elevated him to mythical status among some of his father’s employees. He longed for this week to end, eager to be back in Jump and away from the Wayne gawkers.

His phone buzzed, distracting him from the revenue charts in front of him.

“Stephanie is insane.”

Damian smiled, eyes darting to his watch to see how much longer he’d be stuck in this office. As necessary as it was that he be here for the audit, he felt bad abandoning Raven to his siblings. Next time they came to Gotham he’d make sure it was purely recreational and personally show her the sights.

“A half hour more, then I will come rescue you.”

Then two days more, and they would be home.

A knock on the door called his attention. “Mr. Wayne? Could I borrow you for a moment. I need a second pair of eyes on this file.”

He looked up, raising an eyebrow at the worshipful expression on her face. The scent of expensive perfume assailed him and Damian fought the urge to wrinkle his nose. She looked at him hopefully, blinking rapidly.

“Ask Drake.”

She shifted, reaching up to toy with her platinum blonde hair. “Oh...he just has so much on his plate. I wanted to avoid bothering him,” she replied, voice high and lilting.

Strange woman. Damian wondered where his older brother had found this one. He hadn’t really been paying attention when they were introduced, Vander-something or other.

He sighed. “Fine.”

“Oh, thank you,” she breathed.

She circled around the desk to stand next to him, laying the file in front of him and bending low. A fall of blonde hair brushed his shoulder and Damian shifted slightly to put some distance between them. He spent so little time in normal society it was easy to forget how bad most people were with personal space.

“What exactly did you need help with?”

“This.”

Without warning, she sat on his lap and pressed her lips forcefully against his, throwing one arm around his neck for good measure. Damian completely froze, protests firing rapidly through his mind. She tugged on the waistband of his pants and it was enough to break his paralysis. He shoved her off of him violently and she caught herself on the desk, shifting it several inches back.

“What are you doing?!”

The alarm on her face lasted only a second before being replaced with a coy smile. “Don’t be shy, I know you remember me. It’s been years, but you’re all I’ve thought about, Damian. I swear.”

“I - don’t…” Damian felt uncharacteristically frazzled. “I have - no. I’m not interested,” he finally managed.

“Please, Damian.” She tried to take a step forward and he instinctively backed away. He hated the way she said his name, he realized distantly.

“I have a girlfriend,” he said, hard edge in his voice. One who would kill you and probably me if she was here right now. Raven did not share.

The woman sniffed. “Her. Don’t be ridiculous, you’re a Wayne. She can’t possibly-”

“Enough.”

He glared fiercely, daring her to try and continue. Tears swam in her blue eyes and Damian felt a touch of relief that he finally managed to get through.

“I...hmph, fine. Keep her on the side if you must. My father had a mistress. Just keep her out of my sight.”

She’s insane. What the fuck kind of vetting process do you have, Drake?

He closed his eyes and exhaled before meeting her watery gaze once again.

“Listen very carefully. I. Am. Not. Interested. I want you out of this building in the next five minutes or I’ll call security.”

“I - but - we…” She straightened, eyes glassy with disbelief as she tried to compose herself. “I see.”

Damian kept his glare on as she left the room, feeling a headache build behind his eyes. He grabbed his phone again, feeling a pang of guilt when he saw Raven's name, and called his brother.

"I fired your assistant. You're welcome."

"What? Damian, you can't just show up and start firing people!"

"I'll...explain later." Vaguely, and with as few details as I can manage.

The hint of discomfort in his voice must have given him away. "Seriously? No wonder she was staring at you all day.”

"Drop it."

"Alright, alright. Her dad's going to be pissed though, he pushed Bruce for months to take her on here. Sounds like you got your very first stalker."

Well that was a disturbing thought. Damian shook it off. "Just tell him it didn't work out." He didn't want any rumors getting back to Raven if he could help it.

Lying to an empath is easier said than done.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

"I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She snorted disbelievingly, eyes glued on the book in her hand. “Why do you feel so guilty?”

“It was a long day. I felt bad for you.” Half-truths were the only semi-effective way he’d found of getting around her lie detector. Normally Damian would smother inconvenient questions with lips, hands, and other parts of him that Raven was always deliciously responsive to, but touching her would have felt wrong right now. She deserved to know the truth before she decided how near she wanted him.

She rolled onto her side then, burrowing down against her pillow and studying him curiously. “You don’t have to spend every second with me, Damian. I’m pretty self-sufficient, in case you haven’t noticed.”

He shrugged, laying back and closing his eyes. “I’ll just be glad to get out of here. People in Gotham are a different breed.”

Raven hummed. “Fine, don’t tell me what’s actually bothering you.”

With that, she leaned over to kiss him goodnight. Damian flinched at the contact before responding in kind, and pretended he didn’t see the confused look in her eyes.

“I love you,” he said, focusing the emotion to make sure she felt it as well.

She closed her eyes, slightly mollified. “I love you, too.”

I'll tell her when we get home, he promised himself. As much as he hated keeping secrets, he knew she was going to be upset and preferred a controlled setting. Damian remembered an incident shortly after they began dating when the ticket-taker at the theater had slipped him her phone number. Raven said nothing at first, but the night ended in a supply closet instead of a screening room.

"I don't share," she whispered dangerously, legs tightening around his hips to draw him in deeper. Red flickered across her purple irises. “You’re mine.”

He smirked at the memory. We never did get to see that movie.

Definitely safer for all involved to wait until they'd left Gotham.

Anna stared at her discreetly from the park bench. He’s loyal, that’s all. And I wouldn’t have him any other way.

She grudgingly admitted to herself that the other woman was pretty, if unconventional. Pale purple eyes and dark purple hair - hadn’t anyone told her the punk rock look was out of date? She had nothing on the blonde’s classical beauty.

A hefty bribe to the Wayne's chauffeur had given her knowledge of the woman's - Rachel's - movements throughout the day. She was ordinarily accompanied by Tim's banshee of a girlfriend and one of Bruce's orphans, but had separated from them earlier in the day to visit Gotham’s Arts District. Anna waited until she saw her enter the nearly empty arboretum before making her move. If Damian couldn’t be persuaded to break things off, this one could. An affair with the office hottie - tale as old as time.

“Pardon me?” She adopted a nervous affect as she approached, eyes downcast. “You’re Rachel, right?”

The other woman tore her gaze from the plaque in front of her, violet eyes locking on baby blue. “Do I know you?”

“Anna. I work - worked at Wayne Enterprises. I’m really sorry to do this, but...there’s something you need to know.”

She regarded her silently and the blonde fought the urge to fidget. There's something off about her. What were you thinking, Damian? Finally, Rachel nodded once, crossing her arms. Anna smiled internally and fiddled anxiously with her hands, doing her best to look miserable.

“I was Tim’s assistant until Damian fired me yesterday,” she began, voice weepy. “Tim’s the one who told me about you, I swear I didn’t know before.”

Rachel’s eyes narrowed, something dark and inscrutable flashing in and out of her gaze. “...Excuse me?”

Anna took the low anger in her voice as an encouraging sign and continued. She dropped her eyes again and let out a harsh sob. “I’m not the kind of person who fools around with other women’s boyfriends, and-"

A massive burst of black and red interrupted her thoughtfully planned speech, demolishing the stone plaque next to them and knocking her to the ground. She screamed, covering her head with her arms. A bomb? What’s happening?

Before she could get her bearings, something hauled her up by the throat, slamming her painfully against a tree. She blinked against the white spots in her vision and the dust in the air, squinting to see what held her.

Four slitted golden eyes met her own, radiating fury so thick she could almost taste it. I’m seeing things. I hit my head and I’m seeing things. The devil tightened its hold on her neck and stepped closer, heat pouring off its red skin. Terrified beyond anything she’d ever felt, Anna felt her bladder let go.

“Did you fuck Damian?” it - she - asked in a deadly calm voice.

“Wh-what?” she croaked. No way...what the fuck is she?!

“Answer, mortal.”

She sobbed in her grasp, all her carefully crafted lies flying away in the wake of her terror. “No! I just kissed him!”

The claws (claws?!) around her neck tightened and she felt warm trickles of blood start to seep down into her collar.

“That - that’s all! That’s all I did! I’m sorry!” she cried, “I’m so sorry! It won’t happen again!”

“I know.”

Shadows wrapped around the two of them and she screamed.

Stupid, stupid woman, Damian thought furiously, raising his eyes from the weeping figure on the floor. He’d put it together fairly quickly after walking in the door, and was currently kicking himself for not considering this possibility. She’s clearly deranged, I shouldn’t be surprised she approached Raven.

The woman in question sat in a nearby armchair, looking every bit the queen of hell she was. Her demonic appearance and the regal way she carried herself in this form lent their mundane bedroom at Wayne Manor the feel of some macabre court.

“Something to confess?” his demoness asked lowly.

“I was going to tell you when we returned home. This is the exact situation I was trying to avoid.” Sparks of black and red magic at her fingertips told him that was the wrong thing to say.

“You think a couple hundred miles would have saved her from me when I found out? I would cross entire universes.”

The woman before her seemed to curl in further on herself, as if trying to become a smaller target. Prayers fell from her lips, whispered and unintelligible.

“She’s not worth it. I would have made you see that.”

“That’s not your decision to make. You are mine, this was a challenge to me. A proper demon would have brought just the head.”

A loud wail met her words and golden eyes flicked downwards, oozing contempt. Damian felt a thrill race down his spine. He'd never seen her this angry - possessive. The idea that he was the catalyst, that his composed, serene Raven was burning so brightly over a stolen kiss made his blood tingle.

Apparently feeling the weight of the demon’s stare, she covered her head with her hands and tried to choke back her cries. A prey-like instinct to hide taking root.

He swallowed before speaking, mindful of the thin ice he was on. “I know you’re upset, but you can’t kill her.”

An amused sound escaped her, and Damian wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret it. “Beloved?”

She finally met his eyes again, clearly unhappy with the situation. “Fine. But if I ever see or sense this creature near you again, I will tear her apart slowly. Testor ego eam.”

With that, she waved a hand and the other woman vanished in a rush of black. He didn’t bother to ask where, not wanting to push his luck with Raven right now. Hysterical as the other woman was, no one would believe anything she had to say anyways.

The demoness crossed her arms, studying him silently. She seemed to have no intention of changing back to her human form. Oh.

“I suppose I’m in trouble as well?”

“Lies deserve punishment. And you need to be reminded who you belong to.”

“You, habibti. Always.”

Her smile offered nothing but trouble and his heart started to pick up. "That’s a start."

“Oh?” he asked her, not moving from the spot where he stood. It seemed that court was still in session, and her final judgement on his own transgressions had not yet passed.

She picked at a claw unhurriedly, hooded eyes flicking over his figure. Not one to back down, he met her appraising stare inch for inch.

“Did you know that demons mate for life?” she asked without warning.

“No, beloved,” he breathed. The information was new but it hardly mattered. He had already decided that he was going to spend the rest of his life with her long before they ended up together. He just wondered why she felt it necessary to mention now.

“It’s a sacred bond. Actually sacred, unlike human marriages. Challenging it is the worst insult one demon can deal to another.” Her eyes narrowed, and her claws seemed to sharpen before his eyes.

“She wasn’t a-”

“No one will threaten our bond. Do you understand, mate?”

Dear gods.

He resisted the urge to lick his lips, instead pressing them firmly together. “You should know that you will never be at risk of losing me, beloved.”

“I know. I also know you will never lie to me again.” The demoness waved a clawed hand before resting it underneath her chin. She was waiting for him. He swallowed again.

“What can I do to make amends?”

Her grin widened, boarding on malevolent, as if she finally found the answer she was looking for. Lifting effortlessly from her chair, she began to stride across the room to him with measured steps.

“I have a few ideas.” She purred.

“Oh?” he asked again, displeased at how out of breath he sounded.

Golden eyes held his own, and she didn’t speak again until she was just an arm's length away from him.

Then she pointed at her feet. “Kneel.”

He felt his jaw go slack. She wants me to do what?

She cocked her head at his hesitation. “You will not kneel for your demoness?” She clicked her tongue in distaste. “Don’t you want to remedy your indiscretions?”

He set his jaw, barely suppressing a wince. When she put it that way, there was no reason not to kneel before her, even if the thought of doing so went against every instinct in his body. He did, after all, lie to her, and if this was what she wanted from him then who was he to deny her?

Besides, there would be an opportunity for her to return the favor. I’ll make sure of it.

Revealing nothing, he stared at her impassively and slowly dropped to one knee, biting back a scowl as her smirk grew.

Then, he watched as a slender leg poked out from the slit of the dress she was wearing, and a strappy, black heel. He gave her a simmering look, then took it in his hands without a word, and pressed a kiss to her ankle, trailing up the side of her calf.

“That’s very nice, mate.” She murmured, resting a clawed hand onto this shoulder. “What else are you willing to do for me?”

A light smirk replaced his features. She was asking him to seduce her. To fuck her. That was something he would be more than willing to oblige.

He promptly stood to his feet and grabbed her wrist, pulling him into his chest. To his amused delight, she went pliant in his arms— nearly purring as he captured her lips with his. He kissed her thoroughly, drowning out the memory of the other gods-awful kiss that’d been forced upon him.

Then a clawed hand traveled his cheek lightly, moving its way to the back of his head. She suddenly grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged downwards, tearing his lips from hers. He hissed when sharpened teeth latched themselves on his neck, nipping at the exposed flesh there before soothing it with her tongue.

Then she began to walk forward, forcing him to step with her— until the back of his knees touched the mattress of their bed.

“Meus es tu.” She said lowly, and she pushed at his chest, sending him backwards.

It turned into a battle for assertion. One that he admitted he thoroughly enjoyed— and intended on winning.

He took her with him, grabbing her waist to position her underneath. His smile was smug when he peered down into four golden slits, obviously dissatisfied at the turn of events.

Ignoring her bared teeth, he nudged open her legs with one knee before settling between them, then rolled against her in one swift movement, taking pleasure in the way she threw her head back with a growl.

He continued his ministrations, trailing hot kisses down her neck, just as she did to his moments before. One hand reached up to graze her breast as his kisses went farther down the middle of her chest, while his other hand roamed over the swell of her hips.

Raven in turn, was growing more frustrated with every second he kept her distracted with his teasing, light touches.

“Enough.” It was a command.

By the time he managed to blink he found himself on his back and she was straddling his waist.

Her hands encased with her dark magic. “Alliges duplicia.”

His arms lit up with her magic and they were forced above his head. When he tried to bring them back down he was met with resistance. What the hell? When he looked up his eyes widened with realization. She bound my fucking hands to the headboard.

“Raven.” He snarled in warning, tugging on his bonds. The demoness was unperturbed by his outburst.

“You will submit to me, mate.” A dangerous red swirled in those golden irises, and he clenched his jaw in response, then bit back a groan when she brushed against his length.

“Let me go.” He glared.

“I will not. This is your punishment. You will stay like this until you beg for me.”

“Tch.”

He detested how painfully hard he was. His erection strained against his trousers, and he couldn’t contain his next groan when she palmed him.

It didn’t matter how much he wished she’d slip her hand underneath his belt. He would not beg.

She began to strip slowly, until she was completely bare before him, and then she peeled off his pants carefully— and then his shirt. His full erection was on display for her, and he released a strangled noise in the back of his throat when she settled her heated core against him.

She chuckled darkly when he twitched underneath her. “Say please.”

“No.” he gritted out, breath hitching when her mouth latched onto one of his nipples, nipping roughly. Her tongue flicked it right after, mixing the pain she had caused with pleasure.

“No?” Her claws wrapped around his throat, squeezing in warning. “You are in no position to deny me, mate.”

He just glowered.

“Fine.” She relented, retracting her claws. “You will break eventually.”

Her fingers lifted to her full breasts, reddened from her true form, and her fingers began to tease one darkened nipple into a tight peak. The bonds went taut when he pulled at them roughly in an attempt to reach out to her. She noticed this and smirked as she teased her other nipple, then rocked against him. They groaned together.

He watched as she then slipped one hand down to her core and began to tease herself, parting her folds before slipping a finger inside while grazing against his cock.

She moaned, mouth parting slightly and he growled again in protest. That should be his fingers inside of her.

“If you insist on not obeying me, then I will use you for my own pleasure.” She sunk down onto his cock and his head hit the wall with his groan. Fuck, she felt so damned good and the pace she was setting set him on a steady course towards an impending orgasm, regardless of how much he despised not being in control.

“Beloved.” He growled when she brought him to the brink all too soon, then slowed back down while teasing her clit with her own fingers. Quick, circling motions that revealed her own need to him— that she was nearing her own orgasm.

He caught her hitched breath. She was losing resolve, caught in her own wave of pleasure.

“Release me.” He tugged on his bonds again and bucked his hips into her for good measure. “I want to be the one to fuck you when you come.”

She gasped and clenched around him, drawing him even deeper. “I will come soon. If you want to fuck me, you must beg now.”

He cursed. Goddamn her.

“Please, habibti. I am yours.”

With a victorious smirk, she waved a hand. That smirk was short-lived however, because as soon as the bonds disappeared he lunged for his little demoness, twisting them both before pulling out of her to roll her onto her stomach.

“You are mine too, Beloved. I will also make sure of that,” he snarled into her ear, teasing his cock at her entrance. His hands held her pressed against the bed.

The demoness laughed, then inhaled sharply when he pushed into her with one swift movement. They were both right at the edge, only a few more thrusts was all it would take to throw them both over.

“I can feel how close you are,” He reached a hand underneath her to press his thumb directly against her clit, “Come with me, now.”

She cried out— a sound that was more animalistic than human, and she fluttered around him. He fell shortly after, nearly seeing stars. He continued to thrust languidly, drawing out their orgasms. Vaguely, he watched as Raven’s skin turned from red to flushed ivory. One pair of eyes turned to peer up at him instead of two, and the color of her irises receded to lavender.

For a moment he watched her transform, breathless.

She smiled up at him as her breathing returned to normal and he returned it before dropping his face to her neck. “I’m going to have to make you jealous more often,” Damian murmured into her skin.

Raven snorted, lifting a hand to run through his sweat-soaked hair. “Unwise. Not only will I definitely kill the next one, it will hurt the entire time she is dying.”

“Green is a good color on you, habibti.”

She said nothing, but he could feel her contentment in the gentle run of her fingers across his hair and skin. As post-orgasmic clarity continued to take hold a question popped into his mind and he leaned up to regard her.

“When were you planning on telling me we were essentially demon-married?”

She flushed. “Eventually. Are you...did you not want…?”

He silenced her with a kiss, letting his actions and strength of his emotions answer her question. As though he could ever give this up, or stomach the idea of either of them being with someone else.

After all, Damian didn’t share either.

#damirae #damian x raven #damian wayne #raven #teen titans #fanfic

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excitedlysuffering · 4 years

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When You Make Up

AHA! YES FINALLY! I’ve been such a procrastinator lmao🤣💀 it’s finally out, the Part 2 to How He Hurts Your Feelings.

Naruto~

It had been a few days since you had last seen the Uzumaki and from the way you were coping, one would have assumed it had been months. Naruto was always there to make you laugh and be happy, but without him, everything had seemed a bit bleaker.

You stayed holed up in your room, trying to keep yourself from going to him, but it was an uphill battle. It was well past afternoon, but you were still in bed feeling slightly less miserable than before, but still not great.

That’s when you heard it, a knocking so loud and persistent that it couldn’t be ignored. Grumbling all the way, you dragged yourself to your door. You were ready to scream when no one was there. Until you looked down and saw a takeout bag, with ‘Korean Grill’ spelled out on the front. The very same place you wanted to take Naruto…

Suspicious, you quickly went inside and set down the delicious smelling food. You tiptoed up to your room, not knowing what you expected to find, but you knew something was up.

In your room, or rather all over your room, were Naruto and some of his clones. Eight of them stood in a line, each one holding a small sign. In order, it read ‘I’m so sorry will you please forgive me?’

“Naru…” Even though he had hurt you deeply, you couldn’t help but acknowledge the thoughtfulness of his apology. The real one walked over to you, nervousness written all over his face. “I was a huge idiot and I hurt you… I regret every word I said and how selfish I’ve been.” You couldn’t help but throw your arms around his neck.

He was sorry and he had gone out of his way to do this. You felt your anger melting away as he hugged you back, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Of course, I forgive you, baka… I really missed you.” He sighed in relief. “I missed you too. Now, let’s go eat before your food gets cold.”

Sasuke~

Much to your relief, Ino had invited you to her flower shop to hang out. You had gotten tired of sulking around for the last three days and there was no better way to have your spirits lifted than to hang out with the optimistic blonde.

You stepped into her shop, confused as to why it was so dark and quiet. It was the middle of the day…

“Ino? What’s going on? Where are you?” Suddenly the lights turned on, revealing a bouquet of purple hyacinths, white tulips, and daffodils, all of which were flowers used commonly in apologies. But why were they here? You picked up the flowers, confused. Ino hadn’t done anything wrong? A note peeked up at you. Relieved to finally have some kind of explanation.

‘(Y/N),’ it read, ‘you’re probably wondering why you’re here. I didn’t think you would meet up with me if I asked you point-blank, so I asked Ino to help me. I was an idiot the other day, being rude and speaking before thinking… I let my pride get in the way and I hurt you. The truth is, after a lot of thinking while I was recovering, is that I need you more than I could’ve imagined. I’m so sorry for everything I put you through.’ -S.U.

Your hands trembled at the unexpected apology. Sasuke had a hard time saying small ‘sorry’ for small things, but for him to have given you this big of an apology? He really did mean what he said.

“(Y/N)? You’re probably still mad, and you have every right to be, but… I’m going to make it up to you. I’m going to better, for you.” The Uchiha appeared behind you, looking determined, but also a little nervous. Your gaze softened as you approached him.

“I believe you. I’m just glad to have you back.” His shoulders sagged with relief. He didn’t say anything, instead, pulling you into his chest in an uncharacteristic display of affection. You hugged him back without hesitation as you felt whole once again. “I am too… I never want to feel so lonely again. Forgive me?” You nodded against his chest, your answer was imminent. “Of course.”

Neji~

You were lost. You and Neji had never had a fight quite like this. When he left did he mean for it to be a final thing, or not? It had only been a day since he had blown up at you, but these questions had kept you up all night.

Your manuscript laid on your desk, untouched after Neji had thoroughly insulted it. You figured if even Neji hated it, why would anyone else buy it? Instead, you occupied your time stress cleaning. Everything in your home sparkled like the top of the Chrysler building (A/N: Kudos if you get the reference) by the time you were finished, but didn’t feel any better.

It wasn’t until you heard a quiet knocking on your front door that you realized just how much of a mess you had become in such a short time. You were only dressed in sweat pants and a tank top, but you couldn’t care less. No one worth dressing up for would be waiting on your doorstep.

It wasn’t until your eyes met familiar pearlescent ones that you realized just how much his absence had affected you. Even though you were still angry and hurt, you couldn’t but sag in relief that he wasn’t planning on ending things with you.

“Neji… um, come in…” Never had you felt so awkward around him, and he clearly picked up on that. “I was out of line yesterday… I know that. I didn’t mean what I said, I was just…” He paused as if unsure of himself, “I was jealous. You were spending so much time writing, I assumed that I had lost importance.”

You felt your eyes water at how nervous and hurt he sounded. Yes, what he had said the day before was disrespectful, but it had stemmed from you taking him for granted.

“I’m sorry too, Neji, I wasn’t thinking about how this was affecting you. I just wanted to… it doesn’t matter, I’m just glad you’re here.” He sighed in relief, hesitantly embracing you. “I am too, (Y/N).” You had no words to describe how right everything felt, so you said nothing, opting to instead to just cling to him.

Shikamaru~

You had successfully managed to avoid the lying Nara for a week’s time and you weren’t planning on changing that any time soon. If he didn’t want to see you, you would make sure he didn’t. That did not mean you were going to lock yourself inside your house and sulk. You, (F/N) (L/N) did not sulk.

In hindsight, though, you thought, maybe I should’ve stayed inside… Shikamaru had seen you walking you through the park and now you found yourself backed up into a tree, the furious boy in front of you.

“What is your problem, woman?! You’ve been avoiding me all week!” You scoffed, looking away. “I was trying not to bother you, don’t get so worked up.” He stared incredulously. “Bother? Since when is seeing my girlfriend a bother?” You stomped your foot, you knew it was childish, but you were angry. This had been bottled up for days and you could no longer hold it in.

“Since my boyfriend sent out a clone to see me after he’d been on a month-long mission! Come to think of it, that probably wasn’t even the first time!” His jaw dropped a little before his expression shifted to shame.

“It was the first time… I was still exhausted from the mission, but I didn’t want you to be disappointed.” Your glare softened a little.

“You could’ve just told me, Shika... we could’ve taken a nap, hell I would’ve waited to see you until you were up to it!” You sighed, draping your arms around his middle. “I thought it would work, I didn’t want to upset you or neglect you. Forgive me?”

You giggled a little. “For a genius, you can be quite slow Shika. Of course, I forgive you, just don’t do it again.” He breathed out a soft laugh as he hugged you tighter.

“I won’t. And I’ll have you know, I’m the genius. I don’t even know what slow means.” You laughed as the two of you walked through the park, hand in hand. And this time, you had the real Shikamaru all to yourself.

Kiba~

You held tighter onto your stomach, trying to quell the neverending pain. You had changed into dry clothes and you were now cuddled into your bed, pillows surrounding you. You knew you should probably be happy that Kiba had finally left but instead, a nagging feeling in your chest tormented you worse than your cramps.

You screamed into your pillow in frustration. If you didn’t distract yourself, and soon, your thoughts of Kiba would torture you. You rolled out of bed and stumbled out of the room to go search for something to eat. If there was anything that could help you, it was food.

After almost crying that there was no ice cream, you settled on a bowl of the sugariest cereal you could find. It wasn’t ice cream, by any means, but it was still unhealthy enough to do its job. Suddenly, you heard your doorknob click and then turn. Your eyes narrowed as Kiba and Akamaru scrambled in, Kiba with two bags in his hands.

“What are you doing here?” You hissed lowly. The Inuzuka’s face was pale with fear as he met your hard gaze. “Listen, I’m really sorry, I was really immature and bratty, and then after you closed your door, I smelled blood and realized you were on your period and I’ve been nothing but a huge jerk so I brought you stuff!” He rushed out in one breath, holding out the bags towards you like a peace offering.

Your mouth fell open momentarily as you processed everything that had just come out of his mouth. Cautiously you peered into the bag, still a smidge wary of him after all the pranks. Your heart melted a little as you saw the contents. Inside was (f/f) ice cream, a comfy blanket, chocolates, your favorite sweatshirt of his to steal, and some snacks.

You felt your eyes well up with tears as you looked up at your nervous boyfriend. “W-wait! Don’t cry, I can lea-” You pounced on him, cutting off his sentence. Your arms were around his neck and your legs were around his waist.

“You’re so amazing, Kiba! T-thank you!” You knew there was no reason to cry, but your out of wack emotions didn’t care. “So you forgive me then?!” You giggled through your tears at his hopeful voice. “Yeah… but I’m warning you, Kiba, I’m getting my revenge! After we cuddle…” you grinned.

Gaara~

You were beyond pissed off as you laid in your bed, being forced to listen to Gaara as he moved about the kitchen. After he’d all but blown you off hours before, you had come home and decided on an early bedtime. As much as you wanted to avoid him, it was near impossible since you two shared a flat.

You had assumed he’d come home after you were asleep and just get into bed quietly. But, unfortunately, luck was still not on your side. He’d come home far earlier than you’d imagined and was making a huge ruckus, and it only fueled your anger and hurt.

After an hour of the disrespect, you’d decided you’d had enough and you stomped into the kitchen, practically radiating murderous intent. “What in the hell are you doing?” You questioned, dangerously. The redhead turned around, shame clouding his eyes. “Oh, hello, I was just making dinner… I assume you never got to eat?”

Just then your eyes drifted to the table, which was beautifully set with (favorite meal) in the middle of the table. “Why are you doing this?” You whispered. Gaara moved to stand in front of you so you could see the seriousness in his expression.

“I know one meal can’t make up for the way I’ve been neglecting you, and for my behavior earlier, but I’m going to try, starting now. I was a fool and I could’ve lost you… please forgive me, (Y/N).” You looked away from his intense gaze, your stare once again landing on the delicious-looking meal.

Yes, he’d clearly put effort into this, but you were really hurt by his recent distance towards you. But, he was trying to spend more time with you and it would be counterproductive to deny that, and plus you had dearly missed your boyfriend.

“Okay, Gaara, I believe you,” You stated, looking back into his eyes. Your breath caught at the smile on his face as he sat you in your seat. “I swear, I’m going to make this up to you, (Y/N).” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Kakashi~

If it wasn’t the constricting wrapping around your stomach and shoulder, you would’ve forgotten about the wounds altogether. The dull aching was nothing in comparison to the stabbing sensation in your chest.

Kakashi had left the day before and there was still no sign of him. You couldn’t help but be antsy. Had he meant everything he said and did he plan on coming back? You were on the couch, struggling to rewrap your wounds with your bad shoulder as you pondered these things.

You hardly flinched as your door opened, choosing to ignore the silverette intruding into your home. It was silent even as he gently took the supplies from your hands and started doing the work himself.

You watched him with a blank expression as he worked, waiting for him to say something. After a few long minutes, he began to speak. “I was horrible last night. There’s no excuse, I know, but… I don’t want you to end up like them and I overreacted. Big time.”

You knew he was talking about all the friends and family he had lost to the shinobi world, and even though you weren’t anywhere near happy, you understood. By now he had finished dressing your wounds and was looking you in the eye. The eye you could see was red and puffy as if he’d been crying.

“I’m really sorry, (Y/N). I won’t ask you to forgive me because frankly, I don’t deserve that right now.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug. He eagerly returned it, relieved you were willing to touch him. “You were a real jerk you know.” You stated. He nodded, “I was.” “And I worked really hard to get here, and I’m proud of my abilities,” You continued. He pressed a small kiss to your shoulder.

“As you should be. I really am proud of you too.” You cracked a small smile. “But, I love you, Kakashi, and as long as this doesn’t happen again, I forgive you.” He hugged you tighter, his hair tickling your cheek a little. “It won’t, I swear it to you.” You hummed in response, feeling much lighter than you had minutes before.

~Akatsuki~

Pein~

“To be clear, I think you’re both overreacting. Pein blew a tiny problem out of the water, but you also know how he gets when he’s stressed. He didn’t mean any of that.” You scowled at Itachi’s words, knowing he was probably correct.

“I hate it when you’re right, Itachi. Seriously.” He chuckled at your pout, patting your head. “You should go talk to hi-” You stopped him, with a wave of your hand. “Nope, nope, nope. He was in the wrong, so if he wants to talk, he can come to me and apologize.”

The ravenette looked up before standing up to leave. “Alright, good luck then, (Y/N).” You grabbed his wrist, desperate. “Wait, don’t leave me! I don’t know what to do!”

He raised an eyebrow. “But I just told you to go talk to him?” You let go, groaning. “But I don’t want to!” He sighed, leaving. “You’re whining, (Y/N).”

You stammered, shocked that he was just up and walking away. “So, I guess this is good timing then?” You shrieked, startled as you turned to face the very topic of your last conversation.

“Um...hi?” He sat down next to you, his frown deepening. “I was… wrong, earlier. I apologize for what I said. I wasn’t being fair.” Your jaw dropped in utter astonishment. Never had you ever heard Pein say anything about him being wrong.

“I found out what Hidan said and I’m surprised cut off his head was all you did.” You giggled a little. How could you stay mad when he was humbling himself like this? “He does know the right buttons to push. And I forgive you, I know you’ve been stressed lately, I didn’t mean to add to that.” You leaned your head on his shoulder as you spoke.

“You could never do that, (Y/N). Now, how about we go show Hidan what true pain is?” You just smirked and cracked your knuckles in response.

Deidara~

You had arrived in your room immediately after leaving Deidara and Sasori, but unfortunately, your room was just on the other side of the wall so it wasn’t like you had gone far. It was quiet for a little while, and you occupied yourself with a book you had found lying around the base.

“Sasori no Danna!” You rolled your eyes at Deidara’s frantic shout. Hopefully, nothing was going to explode. “What, brat? I’m working.” “We have to apologize to (Y/N), yeah!” Your attention was peaked now, and you sat against the wall as to not miss anything.

“I will do no such thing. I merely stated an opinion.” You shrugged, you hadn’t expected anything else from Sasori. “But we hurt her feelings, un! Her art is great, yeah!” “You hurt her feelings. You’re her boyfriend.” You heard the redhead click his tongue, clearly annoyed at being interrupted.

“Fine! But will you at least help me, un?!” “Absolutely not. I don’t like abstract and I won’t apologize for it.” You laughed lightly at the puppet’s stubbornness. “Please, Danna, un! I don’t even know why I said those things!” “I don’t know or care. Now go apologize, brat, I can’t take any more of your whining.”

You heard scrambling and then his door opened and closed. You all but jumped back on your bed so you wouldn’t be caught eavesdropping.

The door opened and the nervous blonde stepped in. The second he saw your flushed face, he groaned. “You heard everything didn’t you, hmm?” You sheepishly rubbed your neck. “Thin walls?”

He walked closer, his cheeks tinted red. “I was wrong, (Y/N), un. I’ve never seen you have an off day…” You smiled taking his outstretched hand. “Even though your paintings don’t explode, they are art, yeah. Will you forgive me, hmm?”

Before you could respond, you felt something lick your hand. Deidara snickered. “I think my hand mouths want you to forgive me too, un.”

Giggling, you kissed his cheek. “Well, they should be happy to hear that I do forgive you, Dei. Sasori, on the other hand...” You both smirked, sharing a look that promised trouble.

Masterlist

#naruto scenarios #naruto shippuden #naruto x reader #sasuke x reader #neji x reader #shikamaru x reader #kiba x reader #gaara x reader #kakashi x reader #pein x reader #deidara x reader #akatsuki #reader insert #part 2

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ahsokasleftbicep · 3 years

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Name and Soul: Chapter 4

Alright, let's get this angst moving!! Hope you enjoy it!

@mqgriett @darkangel4121 @thelambandthewolffe @maulscrosshair @trash-dino-5000 @lightning-wolffe @killtherandomness @shadowwing1324

Crosshair x F! reader

Word Count: 2017

Warnings: SPOILERS for episode 4, Tarkin being awful, Rampart being ugh, Sad Crosshair, internal conflict, Hunter and reader tensions, injury, a single curse word

The firing range was dark and empty, just how he liked it. Crosshair moved from his crouched position to his stomach, reloading his weapon and taking aim at the practice droids. Bang. Bang. The droids drop, sending a hollow thud throughout the room. He knew Tarkin was watching, he always did. So did Nala Se. They talked. Anytime Crosshair looked up at the observation room, he saw the two talking. Probably about her. Private L/N. His head hurt, well the right side did. Like a constant headache, it never went away. It was only worse when he was around the regs. Or his squad. They annoyed him. The man paused his training and then stood up, packing his gear. I need to get the mission done. I need to find them. Find her. Kill them. Take her. Easy enough… right. Every time he thought about her, that little metal ring felt heavier than usual. Oh well.

“You be careful okay? Stay with Hunter and Echo, look but don’t touch. Got it?” You brushed off some dust from Omega’s shirt.

“Yep! I got it!” The girl smiled at you before walking over to Echo.

Things had gotten much more complicated over the last few days. There were no more rations and the ship was on a wanted list. These sort of situations could be handled normally, but with Omega, you all had to think of the best way to keep her safe. Some tensions had been growing also, between you and Hunter, everyone felt it. You knew that the Sergeant had good intentions, but he had yet to acknowledge anything that happened on Kamino. With Crosshair. Wrecker tried to tell you that it was how he hid it, but it still irked you. Hunter had been just as devastated as you, and he kept it all in. You drove the past few days from your mind, looking at Echo in his getup.

“Looking good Echo.”

The man raises his hands and turns in a circle. “I know.” The two of you look at each other before breaking out in chuckles.

“Does the headpiece feel okay? Any recalibrations before you guys head out?” You take a quick look at the controls.

“Feels good so far, I think it’s fine.”

The sergeant came over from talking to the Sullustan dock master, securing his pack.

“Let’s head out.”

“Do you have any credits left after paying him off?”

“I have enough to get what we need.”

“Well, be careful.” You speak monotonically.

“Will do.” The two men and Omega start walking towards the market.

You walk towards the ship, towards Tech and Wrecker.

“Why do they get to go sightseeing again?” Wrecker lifts a large metal piece away so Tech can scramble the ship's signature.

You move out of his way, removing your top armor to help Tech with the ship. “It’s a supply mission. And besides, it’s not the first time we’ve seen this planet.”

Tech cleared his throat. “Uh Y/N? Can you get this small piece in here?... Please.”

“Yes!” You walk up to the ship, stepping up on a box and reaching out for the part. “Got it!”

“Much appreciated.” Tech fixes his goggles before heading back towards the inverters.

“Do you need anything else at the moment?”

“I don’t believe so, but thank you Y/N.”

“Sir? You asked for me.” Rampart walked into Tarkin's office.

“Ah Rampart, yes I did.” Tarkin looked up from a datapad. He put the device down and folded his hands.

“Is everything okay sir?”

“Yes, it is. I was curious about your progress on Private L/N’s file.”

The vice admiral sat down. “I have found a little more about her life before the Clone Wars. Nothing that we can use to our advantage yet. She has no family; they were killed in a raid in her village. A civil war broke out shortly after and she was drafted. She got into the Academy based on skill and exceeded in marksmanship among other things. GAR offered her a job when the war started, she joined Clone Force 99 shortly after.”

Tarkin listened and hummed, “Has there been any luck in finding her? Or the clones.”

“No, L/N’s training serves her and the clones well. No sightings nor upsets have been reported.”

Tarkin stands and looks through the glass window. “Very well then. Maintain your search. As I said, L/N’s skills will be useful to your project. Once you find something, send the sniper out to retrieve her.”

“Understood sir.” Rampart rose and walked out. I will find you, L/N. Whether you like it or not.

“Wrecker, Tech, Echo, Y/N. I lost Omega. Someone attacked us.” Hunter’s voice comes out scratchy through the comm-link. Your head shot up looking between Tech and Wrecker.

“Somebody who?” Wrecker responded.

“A woman. Highly trained. She’s after the kid.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” Wrecker grabs his helmet, you grab your rifle and run off, the large man following behind.

“Y/N, your armor-.” Tech called out but you were already gone.

You and Wrecker run through the streets.

“I have eyes on Omega, she’s in the maintenance tunnels. Head northwest, at 155. And hurry, she’s got company.” “Wrecker you take that way, I’ll come from the back.” You say as you approach the street.

“Got it.”

You run through the street, hitting a couple of people, not that you cared about being polite at the moment.

“Wrecker, come in?” Silence. “Wrecker. Do you copy?”

“I do not see Wrecker, but Omega is hanging from a tower in the skyway.”

“Oh no.” You breathe out, trying to run faster.

Some speeder pulls up next to you. “Y/N! Get on!” It was Hunter, he held his hand out.

You grip his arm and pull yourself up. “I got the woman, you get Omega.”

Hunter speeds up, and you crouch on the back seat.

“Where’s your armor?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, that makes me feel better. I’m not losing another member of my team.”

“We don’t have time for this, Hunter.”

“He-.”

“Stop! He’s not dead, he hasn’t disappeared. So stop acting like Crosshair just vanished.” You raise your voice. “Focus on Omega.”

You approach the tower only to see Omega fall into a shipping vessel. The woman jumps in afterward. The woman fires at the speeder, but Hunter swerves out of the way. A moment later the back of the vessel starts tilting, taking the woman… and Omega along with it. The woman falls onto another ship. Omega dangles on a strap, way too far above the ground. Hunter is about to grab her-

‘You guys! Look out!” The woman rams into the speeder, tossing you off and sending Hunter in a spin.

“Y/N!”

You’re able to grab onto the back of her ship, pulling yourself up. The woman grabs her weapon but you knock it out of her hand. She kicks you in the stomach before you slam her into the controls of the ship. She kicks back before grabbing a smaller blaster, and then your shoulder starts to burn. Your right shoulder is shot, the skin burned and irritated. Shit. You stumble back.

“Y/N!” You hear two voices at once, one being Omega.

“It’s okay, just stay there.”

The ship starts to shake, when you look behind you, you see that Hunter shot out one of the thrusters. This throws off your balance and you fall over the edge, gripping the end with your good arm.

“Y/N! You need to drop!” You see Hunter hold up a pyro denton. You look around you, seeing a tarp below you, covering some stand.

“Throw it now! I’ll be okay!” You come just above the tarp and let go. You land on the cover before connecting with the ground. The ship explodes and not a moment later, Hunter comes up and puts you on the bike, with Omega.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” The girl looks at your shoulder and winces.

“I’m fine, this isn’t the worst injury I’ve gotten.” Despite the wound being mostly cauterized, the shock and minor blood loss made you woozy. Everything just faded out. Someone picked you up, probably Hunter.

“We need to go. Now. Get a medkit.”

You woke up with a groan, your shoulder was sore and bandaged in a sling. You threw your legs over your bed and walked out into the common area.

“What did I miss?”

Omega jumped up and ran to you. “Y/n, are you okay? You’re going to be okay right? You got hit and then-”

“Omega.” You hug her. “I’m okay, it takes a little more than a blaster wound to take me down.”

The girl hugs you back, relieved. The others gathered around, Hunter looked pissed.

“Did we find out who that woman was?”

“Bounty hunter, based on her skills.” Hunter returned, his arms crossing over his chest.

“Makes sense. And she's after Omega.” You pat the girl on the head. “We need to be more careful.”

Everyone nods and heads back to the cockpit, except Hunter.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t need the lecture, Hunter.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean?” You bite back, adjusting your sling.

“Look, I know you’re upset about Kamino, and what happened with Crosshair-”

“No, I’m upset that out of everyone on this ship, you are the only one who has yet to acknowledge him. When Wrecker mentioned Crosshair, you shut it down.” You stood up moving closer to the sergeant. “I know you’re hurting just as badly, but the longer we leave him on Kamino the worse it’s going to get.”

“We’ll get him back-”

“When we stop running, maybe start planning. That’s a start.” You turn towards your room, your eyes brimming with tears. “If you don’t come up with something, and fast. I will. And I will do it alone if I have to. I am not going to leave my husband there to rot and be Tarkin’s attack dog.”

“CT-9904. What is your experience with Private L/N? Is she reliable?” Tarkin asked the gray-haired man.

“Yes, her skills were helpful on missions.” The man tensed, his mind racing. What’s he got planned for her? Don’t listen to him! Leave Y/N alone! Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP! FOCUS!

“When you bring her back, you will be in charge of training her after her conditioning. From there, she will become a part of your squad. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” The clone was dismissed and walked past Rampart. He caught a glimpse of a file, your file, on his datapad. Why is everyone so interested in her? It’s not like she’ll come willingly, she’s a traitor. I miss her. She LEFT me. She loves me. No, she doesn’t. She couldn’t.

He sat on his bunk, thankfully the barracks were empty. Images flashed in his head, of you, your laugh, your smile. He grabbed his head and fell to his knees, shaking. Hot tears fell from his eyes as he wept to the empty room.

“Y/N?” Omega peeks through your door. You are cleaning your rifle. “Should you be doing that?”

You chuckle, “Yes, but it’s taking a little longer than usual… Do you want to give me a hand?”

The girl perks up, “Really?”

“Yeah, consider it your first lesson on taking care of your weapon.” You move over to make room for Omega.

“Where do I start?” The girl picks up a rag and looks at you lost.

“Here, see that little gear right there? That’s one of the most important parts. If you don’t take care of it, the rifle can jam…”

You repeated the same words that Crosshair said to you, minus the sarcasm and occasional curse. Word for word of what he said came out of your mouth as if you traded places. For a moment, it felt like he was right there with you. You thought you heard someone crying. Someone weeping. Like they were right there with you.

#name and soul #clone trooper crosshair #crosshair x reader #the bad batch #omega tbb #omega #tbb spoilers #star wars #fennec shand #if you want to be tagged in this story dm me

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unnecessarywriting · 3 years

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Tolerate It (Part 2) - Harry Potter x Reader

A/N: So this is a little long, like 3x as long as part 1, but you know things happen! I hope you all like it and thank you for the love on part 1. Warning, it is a little angsty, but it gets fluffy at the end. Remember to send in requests!! Enjoy!

ALSO Italics are flashbacks!!!!

Part 1

Tolerate It (Part 2)

~ Your Morning ~

The night was spent with shots of firewhiskey and tears. There was nothing that could really prepare you for the feeling in your chest. Your body was convulsing from the sheer torment you had put it through. Luckily, you had someone who was there for you, but it didn’t make the pain ache any less.

When you woke up in the morning, your head ached from the alcohol and the crying. Your face was puffy from crying relentlessly, and your throat was sore from the inevitable coughing that comes with an intense session of tears and wails. Even your lungs were tired from all of the hyperventilating. You grabbed the shirt on your body pulling it to your nose, but much to your surprise you weren’t too familiar with the scent. That was when you acknowledged that your friend let you sleep in hers. When was the last time that you weren't wearing Harry’s shirts? These thoughts needed to leave you. You deserved to move on and be celebrated for everything that you are.

You made breakfast for your friend, and now roommate. She thanked you and complimented your cooking skills. It felt foreign to feel recognized for something so mundane. She offered to clean up, which you graciously accepted. You changed into some of her clothes so that you could go to work. You had managed to take half the day off, but the distraction from, well, let’s just refer to him as he-who-shall-not-be-named. Ironic right? Our hell has been killed, and yet a new one arises in his place. I would never have thought that he would become mine.

All throughout your shift, you tried to keep your focus on work. “Be productive” became your mantra. Eventually, however, your time at work came to a close, and you knew that you had to get your things. You apparated and appeared in front of your old front door. Cautiously, you opened it. You knew he would be at work, but a small piece of you hoped that he would be moping around, waiting for your return. When you found nothing but silence, you couldn’t tell if you were relieved or disappointed.

You knew how much time you had to gather everything you owned, but you didn’t want to risk him coming home and finding you, so you rushed. With everything packed up, you took a look around. The place looked quite empty. When you two had moved in, a lot of the decorating was your own doing. You wanted it to feel warm and inviting, despite who you had felt living there. Now, it looked like how the place felt. Your eyes glanced into the kitchen and you saw the dishes, piled high in the sink. Of course, he probably thought that you would come back and have them done. You scoffed and grabbed your things. When you arrived at your new place, you took everything you could and put it into your room. Emotionally, you were drained, so when you felt your eyes closing, you knew that your day had ended.

~ Harry’s Morning ~

After you left, Harry stayed at the table. He pushed the food around his plate until his stomach warned him to finally eat. He was lost in his angry thoughts. Who were you to accuse him of such stupidity. He loved you, and he knew that he made it clear to you all of the time. You were just being obnoxious and clingy. You would get over it and all would return to normal. That night, he piled the dishes into the sink and walked into his study. He scribbled a letter to Ginny, where he explained how you walked out on him, and how you accused him of such atrocious behavior. Afterwards, he went to bed, feeling slightly colder than normal.

The following morning, he was greeted by a chill. He looked over and saw your side of the bed unslept in. Of course you didn’t return in the middle of the night. He walked out into the kitchen expecting to see you there, but he was greeted with silence. The room smelt of the dinner you cooked the night before. He rolled his eyes to himself, and began to make breakfast. As he placed the bacon on the pan, the scent brought him back to one morning at Grimmauld Place.

“Harry!” You exclaimed as Harry hugged you. “I’m trying to cook. Leave me be!” You giggled.

“But I can help. I used to cook all the time for the Dursley’s. Then we can be done quicker and spend more time together.” His smile was so bright, and his tone remained mischievous.

“Precisely Harry. You don’t have to be a slave anymore. Let me do this for you.” You turned around in his embrace after flipping the bacon. “Besides, after we are done with school, I’m gonna cook breakfast for you every morning just to show you how much I love you.” As you finished that sentence, you booped his nose and turned back to your cooking. Harry just smiled into the crook of your neck, fantasizing about his life with you.

After you finally managed to kick him out of the kitchen, he caught sight of his godfather, who offered a knowing smile.

“You know Harry, she’s a keeper.” Harry nodded in response, and turned around to watch you work.

“She sure is Sirius.”

You had kept your word. Every morning that you were together, you cooked breakfast for him. He ate in silence, like he did while he was with you, except this time, it felt different, almost eerie. He piled the rest of the dishes into the sink and finished getting ready for work. He wasn’t missing any of his shirts. That was unusual. He apparated to his job, trying not to think too much.

“Hey mate.You look awfully tired today.” Ron was too joyful for his taste.

“Didn’t sleep well.” Was all he said.

By lunch time, Ron had figured out that something was wrong. He had seen his friend when he was tired. Something was bothering him, and his irritable behavior was starting to piss him off.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong, or are you gonna continue acting like a prat?” Ron always had a way of getting the truth out of him.

“Y/N left last night.” Harry huffed.

“Whatever happened, I’m sure she’ll be back. She loves you.”

“Loved seems more accurate. She said I've been neglecting her.” As Harry spoke, it seemed like he became angrier with every word. “She accused me of not loving her or appreciating her, and then she walked out.”

“Harry, is it possible that she was right? Those feelings don’t just come out of nowhere. I mean the other night at Mum’s, you didn’t really look pleased to have her around. Maybe you should go and talk to her.” Ron thought he was being reasonable with his words. He wanted to side with his friend, but he was worried about you. You had been friends at school, and after the war, you had stopped talking to him and Hermione. He hadn’t seen you a lot recently, and he couldn’t but be concerned with you behavior the other night. You used to be bright and bubbly.

“All I’m saying Harry, is that Ron is reasonable about his fear of spiders, although you can be a bit of a scaredy cat,” you joked while nudging Ron.

“Y/N I am not. Any fear I have is reasonable. Plus you didn’t see how big those spiders were. Plus I was 12. Even Fang was scared.”

“Yeah, and Fang is a scaredy cat too. Ask Hagrid. Now,” you jumped up from your spot and grabbed his fork, “admit that you’re a scaredy cat, and I’ll give you back your fork.”

“This isn’t funny. I’m very brave. I’m in Gryffindor.” You started to wander away from the table, giggles spilling from your lips. “Y/N, please c’mon. I’m hungry. Oh, fine! I’m a scaredy cat, okay? Terrified of giant spiders. Is that what you wanted? Now give me my fork back.” By the end, he was yelling in the great hall, and you were laughing uncontrollably at his desperate confession. You handed him his fork and continued to giggle.

“Brave sure, but you are pretty dumb Ron. There was another fork right there,” you said pointing to where he was sitting a moment before. Harry and Hermione just facepalmed at their friends’ shenanigans.

Your silent behavior was unlike you, and he knew there was something going on, but he didn’t get the chance to ask you about it. Harry left the conversation, frustrated with his friend, and he returned to his job. He needed to get his mind off of what you said the night before.

On his return home, he half expected you to be back, waiting for him to come home so you could talk through things. He was met with a cold emptiness. Your things were gone. He rushed into your bedroom, and saw that half of the room was bare. There wasn’t an ounce of you left to grasp onto. He realized that you weren’t just in a fight. You were gone, and it was all his fault. He put his head down on what used to be your pillow. Your perfume was light, but the slightest whiff let him feel you. He hadn’t felt you in so long. You’ve always been there, but he wasn’t close enough to you to get the scent. You were right. He had been neglecting you. His tears began to fall as he held onto the only bit of you he had left.

“Look at what I bought! This is going to be perfect Harry.”

“Darling, you’ve done too much.”

“How dare you? This is so very important. When people come over, they need to be welcomed. They need to be in awe over how amazing I am at decorating. This is our place Harry! It needs to be perfect.” He was aware of how serious you were which made him smile to himself. You could be a lot to handle sometimes, but that’s what he loved about you.

“As long as you’re here with me, it will be perfect.” He nuzzled into you and breathed in the beautiful scent you omitted. You really were perfect.

Are perfect. You are perfect, and he just let you walk out the door. Worse than that, he allowed you to think less of yourself. He’s been through a lot of heartbreak and pain, but this was worse. Hell, he even died, but this was worse. He stayed in bed the rest of the night. He couldn’t bring himself to eat. Eventually, he fell asleep.

~ Your Response ~

You were doing better than you expected. You weren’t happy by any means, in fact you still cried yourself to sleep, but you were better. You worked your regular schedule, and you really put everything you could into your work. Your roommate was great, although you knew she would be. You two were friends. You still hadn’t fully unpacked yet. It felt as if you did, it would really be over, and you weren’t ready to let go just yet.

One morning, you felt that you needed to go out and do something productive. So, you went to Diagon Alley. You owe yourself a little shopping spree, and maybe you would get a gift for your roommate to thank her for allowing you to move in on such short notice. You had made your way through different stores. You found yourself outside a bookstore. You smiled at it, but it felt bittersweet.

“Is there a reason we need more books? C’mon dear, you aren’t Hermione. You don’t need to compete for who has more books. We barely have space for them.” Harry never understood why you wanted to buy all of these books.

“There is a very good reason Harry. I just haven’t told you yet.” You continued looking through the shelves, trying to find a book that jumped out at you and told you that it was a must read.

“What do I have to do to find out?” He was watching you in awe.

“Find a book you want, and I mean really want. I don’t want you just picking up some random book. And then, I’ll be ready to tell you.” He took the challenge and began looking for the book. After about twenty minutes, he returned back to you, book in hand. You looked at it and smiled at him.

“So, why are we buying these?” You laughed and walked to the counter to check out.

“I said I would be ready to tell you. I never said that I would.” Harry playfully rolled his eyes and followed after you.

You never did get to tell him your reasoning for buying all of those books. A shame really, but now that you two aren’t together, they don’t mean anything. You sighed and walked to get some ice cream.

“Y/N?” You turned in the direction of the voice. A part of you wanted to just leave her standing there, but you knew that she would be persistent.

“How can I help you Ginny?” You tried to sound polite, but you were bitter.

“How are you? Harry told me about your fight.” Of course he told her.

“I’m fine. Now if you don’t mind, I was gonna get some ice cream and get home.” Except, it wasn’t home to you.

“Well, I was gonna get some ice cream too, so let’s get some together. It’s my treat.” You didn’t want to eat with her, but free ice cream was not something you were about to pass up. You nodded your head in response. You both ordered your ice cream, and took a seat outside.

“I heard Harry’s side, but I think he left some things out. I was talking to Ron, and he said that you looked like you were going through something before your fight. We’re all worried about you two. I know that I may have overstepped a little bit, and I’m sorry, but you two are perfect for each other. I don’t think that I can handle being what came between you two.” You scoffed. She wasn’t at fault. Sure she was a part of why you were mad, but it wasn’t her fault that Harry stopped loving you.

“Listen Ginny, I don’t want you to feel like this is your fault, because it isn’t. Harry stopped caring about me a long time ago, and I finally realized it. I gave him everything, and he brushed me off. He was just dealing with me being there. I left because I deserve to be happy. I may not be there yet, but I can’t go back to be treated like a maid.” She seemed to understand. The two of you talked a little longer about how you were, her life, and her family. Eventually, you parted ways. You felt a little better knowing that she didn’t find you selfish or crazy.

That night, you two didn’t cry yourself to sleep. You were still sad, but there were no more tears.

You were awoken to a familiar owl at your window. You grabbed the letter and opened it.

Dear Y/N,

I know you hate me, but I think we should talk. There are things I need to say, but mostly,

I need to apologize. In person. Please come back. Tonight, 7:30.

Love,

Harry

~ Harry’s Response ~

Harry was miserable. His days at work were unproductive. Ron was concerned, but he didn’t know what to do. He had never seen his best friend this distraught. He was beginning to look like Sirius did when he escaped from Azkaban. Harry would come home and whimper at the lack of you in his home. It used to be your home. The place was a mess. If you had seen it, you would probably scold him for being so irresponsible.

It was a Saturday. He had nothing to do but sit around at home. He walked into his study, and found the pile of books in the closet. You complained that he had the study to himself, so you stole the closet from him claiming that you deserved it. He complied. Since you left, he hadn’t opened it. He was terrified of what it could possibly be, but his hand continued to the knob. Inside were all of your books. You kept buying more whenever you two would make your way to Diagon Alley. He never found out why you bought them, but he still wondered. He opened a few of them, and recognized your handwriting in the margins. They mostly consisted of your reactions to things that you read, or even just cute doodles that matched the story.

He held a couple of them to his chest as he thought of you. He didn’t know how long he was sitting there. He was only interrupted by the call of his name. He reluctantly got up and looked for the owner of the voice.

‘Blimey Harry. You’ve destroyed this place.” Ron was there. Of course. Ginny stood beside him, looking disappointed.

“Harry, we need to talk about Y/N. You’ve been insufferable without her, and she’s struggling too,” Ginny stated.

“How do you know how she’s doing?” Harry was really worried.

“Ginny met with her today at Diagon Alley. Harry, when was the last time you cleaned at all? This place is absolutely disgusting.” Ron winced at the sight of the kitchen.

“Harry, I’m gonna cut right down to it. You need to talk to her. You are killing yourself over your mistakes, and she is struggling to deal with how you treated her. Merlin, Harry, how could you let her down. Did you know that she really believes that you stopped loving her? The damage you’ve caused is almost irreversible, but I think you both need to talk. If not to sort things out, then to give you both closure.” Ginny had a point.

“I don’t even know how to talk to her. I don’t want her to see me like this either.”

“Mate, we don’t want to see you like this either, but we can fix that,” Ron exclaimed.

“She said that she is living with a Y/F/N.” Harry’s eyes lit up. He knew where that was.

“Harry, you are going to shower, and we are gonna start cleaning up this,” he motioned to the room, “and then you are gonna tell her to meet you here tomorrow night. It’s the least you could do,” Ron finished with a hopeful look. Harry nodded and retreated to the bathroom.

~ Together at Last ~

You were nervous to say the least, but you gathered yourself and apparated to the place you once called home. You knocked on the door. It felt foriegn, but you didn’t feel like you could just enter a place you no longer lived. You heard rustling from behind the door, and what you thought was a curse. Then the door opened, and you saw a slightly disheveled Harry smiling awkwardly at you. You returned the smile but stayed where you were standing.

‘Oh, come in.” He moved out of the way and closed the door after you. There was a smell in the house that you could only describe as burnt food.

“I’m sorry, I was trying to cook for you, but I think I lost that ability, and well, it’s not entirely edible. I ordered a pizza a little while ago. It should be here any minute.” Almost as if on cue, there was another knock at the door. He rushed to get it, while you stood observing the place. It was clean, but it looked dark and empty.

You both walked over to the table where he placed the pizza. You sat down cautiously and eyed all of his clumsy motions. He was reminding you of how he was in school. Completely unaware of how to act in front of a woman. It was kind of funny, but you couldn’t bring yourself to smile. When he sat down, he looked up at you with a nervous glint in his eyes.

“I guess I should start by apologizing. I have a lot to say, so I ask that you allow me to speak this time. First of all, I am an idiot for so many reasons. The things I said to you that night were cruel and unreasonable, and I cannot put in words how sorry I am. You were right. I have no excuse for the way I treated you. I’ve been thinking, a lot actually, about us. I need you to know that I have never stopped loving you.”

“Harry-” you began.

“Let me finish please. You are the greatest thing to ever happen to me, and losing you broke me. I need you in my life, not as a caretaker, but as my equal. I need you by my side because you make life so much better. I don’t know what happened, but as cliché as it sounds, I realized just how much I need you and love you after you left. I know you waited so long for me, and I did nothing but push you aside. I’m promising you now, if you take me back, and you come home to me, then I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I will show you everyday how much I love you more than anything. So please darling, come home.” His eyes were glossing, and you could tell that he was being honest. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him this vulnerable.

“Harry, I hoped everyday that you would stop being cold, and would turn to me and confess just how much you love me. It never happened. I want to be with you because I love you, but I can’t help but be scared that you will resort back to your old ways. I don’t think I can take being someone that is underappreciated and unloved. I need time.” You were being honest with him. You couldn’t afford to push your feelings aside anymore.

“Will you take me back? I want to start fresh, but I want you here.” His desperation was clear.

“Okay, but I need things to be slow for a while. I don’t trust you, but I love you.” He jumped up from his seat and walked over to you. His arms wrapped around your body. It had been so long since you were in his arms. Your scent made him sigh in relief, while his warmth let you relax into the embrace. This is what you had waited for. It had been so long, but it had been worth it.

The following day, you both had taken the day off from work to move you back in and spend quality time together. You had stayed the night wrapped up in his arms. It was the best night of sleep either of you had gotten in far too long. You wrote to your roommate that morning telling her that you were moving out, but you promised to pay your part of the rent until she found a new roommate. She understood and was happy that you figured things out with the love of your life.

You woke up before Harry, as per usual, and walked into the kitchen to start making breakfast. When Harry woke up, he was worried because you were no longer in bed beside him. He got up and walked into the kitchen to see you over by the stove. He smiled and found himself behind you, his arms on your waist.

“Good morning love,” he said, sleep still heavy in his face. You smirked and kept cooking.

“You know, I would cook for you, but-” he started.

“But, you would burn down the place, and quite frankly, I don’t have any faith in your cooking abilities. Plus, I promised you breakfast every morning while we are together. I don’t like to break my promises.” You felt his smile grow in your neck.

The rest of the day consisted of Harry being glued to your hip. He missed you so much, and he didn’t want to spend any time away from you. After you had moved all of your things back into your home, you collapsed onto the couch from exhaustion. Harry sat next to you and wrapped his arms around your body.

“Can I ask you a question?” You smiled at him.

“You just did, but go ahead,” you joked.

“The books in the closet. Why do we have so many of them?”

“Oh those? Well, I wanted to have something to give to our future children. Something I could share just between us. I know it’s kinda dumb, but I’d like to think that our kids would like to have that bond. Maybe even make it into a family tradition that they bring to their kids.” You said this with a slight blush forming.

“I think it’s brilliant. Remind me that we need to get some more.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, our children should have some from both of us, don’t you think?” You laughed and nuzzled closer into his body.

“I love you so much Y/N and don’t ever let me forget it.” He placed a kiss on the top of your head, and tightened his hold on your body. He would never let you go again.

#harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines #Harry Potter imagine #harry james potter #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #ron weasley #hermione granger

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 315: I Didn’t Expect This to Blow Up

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “guess which plot that you thought was dead is actually not dead and is making a comeback!” and we were all “EVIL HPSC??” and he was all “girl you know it,” and that’s the story of how we got a sexy Lady Nagant flashback with lots of guns and murder. Flashback!Lady was all “gotta murder peeps to preserve the people’s trust,” but then a little while later she was like “actually wait that makes no sense,” and so she shot her evil boss and they sent her to jail. Back in the present, Deku was all “okay fair, the hero system might in fact be a little fucked up, but hear me out... have you considered not helping AFO take over the world so he can murder like a bazillion more innocent people??” The chapter ended with the not-all-there Overhaul finally revealing himself to Deku, and I honestly have no idea where this is gonna go.

Today on BnHA: In what is unfortunately the single worst plan ever concocted by anyone in BnHA, Nagant is all “I’m going to try and get this Deku kid to panic and freeze up by putting someone in mortal danger.” Deku is all, “[doesn’t panic and freeze up at the sight of someone in mortal danger].” Nagant is all “omg no way.” Deku, who is now all of a sudden being so OP that even I have to acknowledge that it’s OP lol, is all “[smashes Nagant’s gun arm to bits]”, which sucks but is also really cool, and which also apparently makes Nagant decide that she actually likes this kid after all. Deku is all “NAGANT I REALLY LIKE YOU AND THINK YOU’RE GREAT SO PLEASE JOIN UP WITH ME AND STOP BEING EVIL.” Nagant is all “aw shucks (✿ •͈ᴗ•͈) well okay then” and everyone is all “( ･◡･) ✰ ( ˆᴗˆ ) ( ᵘ ᵕ ᵘ ⁎)” and then Nagant FUCKING EXPLODES LIKE AN EGG IN THE MICROWAVE AND FALLS TO HER DEATH!!!! except not really because Hawks saves her??? In conclusion, (a) THE FUCK, and (b) AFO TURN ON YOUR LOCATION I JUST WANT TO TALK.

so I have to tell you guys something, which is that barely ten minutes after I made that “please don’t send me spoilers” post the other day, someone replied to the comments in a stunning fit of “tell me that you’re twelve without actually telling me you’re twelve” energy and posted what seemed to be the copy-pasted spoiler summary from reddit or twitter or whatever lol. so here is my good news/bad news rundown of all that

good news: I have very well-conditioned ABORT!! reflexes and have trained myself to immediately look away from the screen (usually in dramatic fashion) as soon as I realize that whatever I’m reading is a spoiler

bad news: unfortunately as I was subsequently deleting said comments, I accidentally read the very last one

good news??: said spoiler was so unbelievably, absurdly over-the-top that I’m almost positive this person was just trolling. like, there’s just no way lmao

bad news: but in the unlikely event that it is true I will absolutely lose my shit I swear to god

(ETA: “NAGANT DIES.” that was the spoiler I read lol. like, literally all I read from the person’s comments was “My Hero Academia Chapter 315 Title: “Beautiful Words.” Chapter starts with...” and then I noped out of there, and then of all the comments to read as I was deleting, it had to be that one lol. I seriously was just like “SURE, JAN.” all “just how gullible do you think I am” sob. but I was wrong. a troll, but an honest troll they remain.

but anyways like I’m pretty sure Nagant isn’t even actually dead lol, so in the end this whole little adventure doesn’t even have a point to it, but for me it was a journey!)

anyway, so there are apparently two versions of the chapter today?? no idea what the difference is, but I’m going to go with the Bean version, because it’s the one at the top and I don’t feel like making decisions today

huh, so Overhaul is actually more coherent than Horikoshi was letting on

look at him having a whole back and forth conversation with her. side note, how is he still this jacked when he’s been sitting in a cell doing absolutely nothing for the past six months

anyway so he says he’ll go with her on one condition. I wonder what that condition could possibly be. do you think it could be the thing he literally hasn’t shut up about ever since he reappeared lol

yep! and damn -- maybe this guy will surprise me after all

still would be nice if you also felt a bit sorry for the little girl you tortured and traumatized, but this is something at least. maybe Deku will yell at him for that other stuff lol

(ETA: also can’t help but wonder if he wants to make amends because he put him in a coma, or because his plan was a failure and ended up destroying the family. just hoping you’ve finally had that “hurting other people is bad” epiphany dude.)

anyways so now Nagant’s arm is transforming again, and this particular transformation happens to be the only truly unsexy thing that Nagant has done thus far so I’m just gonna skip right on ahead lol

aaaaand we’re back to the delirious ranting

buddy. just. read the fucking room, guy

wow she really is aiming at Overhaul, then. those theories were spot-on

damn she’s really out here all “it really fucks with kids’ heads when you kill people right in front of them and make them blame themselves” like yo

I’m picturing her saying all this in a very loud stage-whispery tone while making very significant eye contact with Deku lol

uh oh but wait

um. okay. who’s gonna tell her. Nagant I might have some bad news for you about the kid you’re trying to capture here. specifically about the way he tends to do the opposite of what you’re thinking that he’s about to do

holy shit

so it’s basically just “tap x repeatedly to charge up your attack” lol

and okay, so that’s cool and all, but is anyone else wincing at the thought of what that must be like on his knees. oh to be young

anyway, but so to the surprise of basically no one, Deku did not, in fact, freeze. I am very sorry, Nagant. he’s just like this

LMAO

someone wanna tell me how getting yoloed in the fucking ribs by this fucking slingshot kid moving at literal sniper bullet speed is in any way even remotely better than getting hit by the bullet itself lol

(ETA: this is 10x funnier now that we know the bullet wasn’t even gonna hit him lmao.)

anyway so now Nagant is having an extended “!?!?!?” reaction about how Deku just moved with no hesitation, and I’m starting to get an inkling of fear that the rest of this fight isn’t going to go very well for her and maybe that’s what all the “hoo boy” is about

oh my god Deku are you about to Gomu Gomu no Rocket yourself at her you insane little man

now Three is popping up again and he’s all “I see you’ve learned your lesson and are now only using three quirks at once instead of five” like with all this effusive praise about how great and badass Deku is and sob, okay, yeah. this chapter is basically one of those machines that shoots tennis balls at people, except instead of tennis balls it shoots hot piping discourse

OH MY GOD

YOOOOOOOOOO but also, NOOOOOOOOOOO

lol oh my god it’s literally two opposing reactions at once wtf. do I love this or hate this. like just for once can Horikoshi actually let a badass lady character win their fucking fight without getting their arm ripped off, BUT ALSO fucking look at that absurdly cool “SMASH” onomatopoeia though. it looks like it’s about to float right off the page holy shit that’s some seriously good art

anyway so is this really the end?? do I need to break out my ಠ_ಠ faces

lmao okay yeah I can definitely see how this would piss a lot of people off

he basically one-shotted her and she’s all “damn this kid is so amazing that I’m about to do a complete 180 turn on all of my previous angst” lmao. Horikoshi is really shounening it up today

on the plus side though, maybe this means there’s still a chance for her to join up with him after all? unless that spoiler was true lmao, then all hell is gonna break loose

YESSSSSSS

OH MY GOD AND HE SAYS THE BULLET WOULDN’T HAVE DONE MORE THAN GRAZE OVERHAUL ANYWAY, wow, I’m actually more relieved by that than I would have expected. I mean I would have forgiven her either way, but it means that there was still more hero in her than she was letting on

YES!!! FUCKING YES, THANK YOU

lol but I mean, it’s also like, “oh so today they get to have brain cells”, thank you so much lol. sometimes it’s really hard to tell which times we’re supposed to question these character decisions that seem dumb, and which times we’re just supposed to full on embrace them and switch off our critical thinking

but okay, so in this case it really was Nagant going easy on him on purpose, and not just her fucking up for no good reason even though she used to do this for a living and was the best in the game. and I know in this case it’s probably just Horikoshi giving us some consolation headpats to soften the blow of her losing so abruptly, but you know what, shit. I’ll take it

also you guys the light is coming back into Deku’s eyes again for just a moment here and I’m having feels about it?? the way it still comes back when he’s reaching out to save someone, and following his own hero path instead of the much darker and lonelier Christopher Nolan path that’s been laid out for him instead that he never wanted?? it’s both reassuring and also very sad

YESSSSSSSSSSS

DO IT LADY OMG PLEASE?? PLEASE COME BE HIS NEW IRRESPONSIBLE ADULT SUPERVISION YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO

AHHHHHHH SHE’S GONNA DO IT AHHHH

p.s. I am now absolutely scared shitless that that spoiler was actually true sob. swear to god, I will throw this manga into a fucking volcano. but we’re almost at the end of the chapter and this seems just WAY TOO GOOD to be true fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck f

UCK

NOPE NAH SEND IT BACK, NOPE, NUH UH, DIDN’T ORDER THIS. “GULLIBLE” OKAY FUCK YOU?? “COUNTERMEASURES” NOPE, DON’T NEED ‘EM, WE’RE ALL FINE HERE. WE’RE ACTUALLY GOOD SO YOU CAN JUST GO, OKAY. PLEASE

fuck, lol, I don’t wanna do it. I don’t wanna scroll down what have I ever done to deserve this oh my god

WHAT THE HONEY-ROASTED FUCK

WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT FUCKING VOLCANO IN ICELAND THAT I KEEP SEEING ALL THESE PICTURES OF. WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT SHIT. LET’S GO

ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW

can someone please give AFO a really good, sharpish kick in the balls. just really let him have it. I’m so tired, what the fuck

-- ARE YOU KIDDING ME LOL WHAT

bro. I was literally going through my Excel folders to find the spreadsheet about female characters in BnHA that I made back when Midnight died. was gearing myself up for a wholeass rant. and honestly I might just let all of that continue simmering on low to keep it warm just in case lol, because to tell you the truth I have absolutely no idea what’s happening right now

my girl straight up does not have a face. she used to have a face. people usually need those, idk. like, even if she’s alive, her gorgeous eyebrows are definitely not making it out of this and I’m gonna throw a funeral just for them

how the fuck did AFO just blow her up?? how did he know what was going on?? and if he had a quirk that could explode people at will, why is this the first we’re hearing of it?? you’d think that might have come in handy at Kamino or Jakku, like what

(ETA: present!me, who’s had more than three hours of sleep and can now actually remember facts about the series, would like to remind past!me that AFO gave Nagant a quirk, and so this is probably just more Vestige shenanigans now on his part. that’s also probably why Air Walk suddenly stopped working out of nowhere. still doesn’t explain why he doesn’t go around blowing people up more often though but maybe he thinks it’s gauche.)

Hawks just straight up out of nowhere. just Mirioed his way straight into the chapter just in time to be too late sob. here I was looking forward to seeing your face when Deku showed up with his new best friend. can’t believe Horikoshi deprived us of that moment

on the plus side, WELCOME BACK, HAWKS’S FEATHERS. I have no doubt that in this chapter of Deku being an almighty threequirk-mastering god, and Nagant losing anticlimactically only to be immediately blown up because girl characters in BnHA can only be cool for one fight and one fight only, there are still some people who are focusing solely on the “how dare Hawks get his wings back when he is a MURDERER this is an outrage what about CONSEQUENCES” discourse, and to hell with all the other discourses lmao

anyway, so yeah. wow. and now it’s just occurring to me that maybe the real reason why Overhaul is there is so he can get a head start on that amend-making by actually doing a good thing for once in his life, and using his quirk to heal Nagant. assuming he can still do that

and so now Horikoshi has got me out here actually rooting for Overhaul. you know what, on that note I think I’m just gonna go ahead and call it a day sob

#bnha 315 #overhaul #chisaki kai #lady nagant #midoriya izuku #all for one #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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razrbladekiss · 3 years

Text

TYRANTS | Chapter Eight - Angels Or Devils

WORD COUNT: 6.3k

WARNINGS: mentions of death, grief, tig, usual SOA shit

MASTERLIST

Irked, Chibs stuffed his cellphone into the pocket of his cut with a prolonged fuck to accompany the squelch of glass against leather.

He couldn’t get a firm grip on anything this morning.

Jax was at large, Isla and Tig had rolled onto the lot together looking much, much too comfortable, and Gemma was chewing every goddamn soul’s ear off about her son.

To say that he wanted the day to be over—before it had even commenced—was the understatement of the fucking year.

“Where the hell is he?” Clay barked from the front of the garage, turning to eye Isla directly. “You sure you haven’t seen him?”

“If I knew where he was, I would’ve told you by now.” Her retort was just as curt, prompting Tig to tense in his spot beside her.

He twined his hand around her bicep in order to calm her, but it was no use.

“Well somebody must know where he is—“

“You tried callin’ Tara?” Chibs cut the president off, hoping he’d be able to take some of the heat off of his daughter—the one that seemed to get all of Clay’s Jax-fueled frustrations launched atop her these days.

He just glared at the Scot.

“I can swing by his place? Make sure he ain’t there?” Tig offered.

“He isn’t. Wendy would’ve said.”

“Alright,” the sergeant smacked his lips together. “We’re gonna have to go without him, then.”

Isla hummed, agreeing with Tig.

That forced a vexed snarl from Clay, and she wanted to throttle him for being so fucking haughty today.

“What? He has a point. If we wait around for him, then we’re gonna be late and the other Sons will get to the cemetery before us. Jax knows where we’re going, and what time this fucking funeral starts, so just trust that he’ll be there!”

Her outburst was completely uncharacteristic. It was brash and loud, and Clay realized that her emotions were running a hell of a lot higher today than what they usually would have, so he allowed it to pass.

He cut her some slack because that was what she needed. Isla needed to blow off some steam, to raise her voice and yell out her frustrations because she would’ve let them bubble over, otherwise.

Plus, unbeknownst to him, she had started to take the Mirtazapine that had been prescribed to her, and she still didn’t know how to feel about it.

It was odd. Everything about today, was just fucking odd.

“Kids right.” The rasped acknowledgment came from Happy this time, nodding in her direction with that signature stoic expression he was known to host. “Jax wouldn’t miss this.”

“Alright.” Clay waved a hand tersely before gesturing to the sea of Harley-Davidsons parked side-by-side. “You heard ‘em. Let’s go.”

Tig grabbed at her hand as she went to slip away—exactly like she did to him last night—and pulled her toward him.

The moment didn’t go unnoticed by Clay and her father as they mounted their bikes, sharing the same look that’d been meshed with confusion and concern.

“You good now?”

She nodded, using her pointer finger to twist the crucifix that was sat against her neck, feeling a foreign heat prickle against her cheeks because all eyes were on them.

After turning up together today, people had their suspicions, too.

And those suspicions were mostly held by Chibs and the pres, but it was partly unrest because they both knew what Tig had done—though, Chibs wasn’t officially privy to Clay pulling the strings.

He would be, though. In time, he would find out for himself.

“Gemma and Wendy are heading out in the SUV. Are you going too?” He squinted underneath the sun, pulling his sunglasses from the neck of his shirt.

“I am.” Isla smiled, squeezing Tig’s hand. “Ride safe.”

She stood straight—not having to shift onto her toes because her heels provided some more height—and pressed a dulcet kiss to his cheek.

“Please don’t get into another fight today.” She expressed sadly, lightly ghosting her fingertips over the bruise sitting uncomfortably against his cheekbone. “I don’t think I have it in me to take care of you again.”

“I can’t make any promises.” Her lips curled upward, expressing some sort of smile—though, what with the forthcoming event, she didn’t feel too good about it.

But she remained silent, after that.

Isla got into the car without saying a single word.

The lull was of course grim, but stillness was what the three women needed. It was good for them to sit in complete silence—the only sound coming from the din of the car engine and outside of the vehicle—because it allowed them space to think.

She needed to collect her thoughts this morning, especially after what she had learned last night. Isla didn’t want to think that Jax would have flipped on Tig like that, but it was Jax.

He was unpredictable.

Never once had she felt a sense of outrage that she wasn’t sure how to quell whenever thinking of her best friend, but she was beginning to understand just why Clay was so pissed at his rashness lately.

Even if he was acting on instinct—using his conscience to rule his decisions—Jax was still acting recklessly. His desire to do the morally sound thing outweighed the need that his club had for him to carry out the act that would result in the greater good.

And he was right to stop Tig from pulling the trigger on that girl, but Isla was wary of how he had decided to handle it.

“You didn’t call me last night.” Gemma whispered as the car pulled up to the cemetery gates. “You said that you’d call me.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Genuinely, she told her. “When I got in I just went straight to bed, but then Tig turned up at my place and he needed my help, and then—“

“You let him stay.” She finished Isla’s sentence with a hum, providing her with an unusually somber glance. “If there’s anything going on between the two of you, then it’s okay—“

“There isn’t.” Isla shot her down, impatiently waiting for the all-clear to leave the vehicle. “He got hurt last night, needed patching up and didn’t wanna go to the clubhouse in case he saw Jax again, and so he came to me. And, because I’m nice, I let him stay the night.”

“Why wouldn’t he wanna see Jax?”

Wendy’s qualm came unexpectedly. She hadn’t thought that the blonde was listening to the little back and forth.

“Because he was the reason that Tig needed his face fixed.” She spat bitterly when Wendy just blinked at her, hoping to God that they’d be able to get outside soon.

Her irritation with the VP was palpable, and Gemma couldn’t help wondering whether Jax’s stunt had a part to play in why she was so galled when his name was brought up before they left the garage.

Regardless, Isla was getting along with it today. For the sake of Opie and his kids, she was putting her hostility aside and paying her respects to Donna the way that she had always been taught to.

“Woah, what a turn out.” Her admiration for the Sons grew with every single member—every Nomad—that she saw riding along the winding road.

Isla moved between Chibs and Tig, holding tightly onto her father’s hand as they walked toward Donna’s casket.

“Still no Jax.” Almost relieved, Tig noted. “Wonder if he’s gonna ride over with Tacoma.”

“Doubt it.” The Scot added. “He woulda followed us. Dunno where the fuck he’s gotten to.”

“He’ll be here.” She promised hopefully, breaking away from the two men—shaking Chibs off when he held on a little bit tighter, not wanting to let her go.

The black dress she’d thrown on was hardly funeral attire, but the tights hugging her legs underneath the cotton made it a bit better.

Tig watched her pad across the grass and toward Opie, trying to sniff back his own tears at the sight of her taking a long-stemmed blue flower, kissing the petals, and placing it atop the coffin.

It was horrible.

“I’m sorry, Ope.” Isla pressed a kiss to her fingers and ghosted it over the wood, feeling her eyes dampen. “Anything you need—anything at all that you can think of for yourself or your mom or the kids—I’m here. Always.”

He couldn’t quite find the words to thank her, but she knew that he was grateful. Opie didn’t have to say anything for Isla to recognize his appreciation for her, for his family, and for everybody that turned out today.

Jax wasn’t there, though. Not yet.

And, perhaps, Isla being at his side during a time of such harrowing distress was her way of trying to comfort him because his best friend was nowhere to be seen. But she would’ve done it for anybody.

She just wished that it wasn’t Opie.

“I love you…So much.” She whispered through a smile when more people began to filter in, backing away to sit beside Gemma and in front of Tig.

The cool metal of his rings were against her shoulder in an instant, anchoring her back to earth after floating much, much too high above the ground.

She was in a distorted haze, so to speak. Isla’s head wasn’t particularly in the right place today, and it could’ve been down to a multitude of things—but she wanted to simply pin it on her grief.

Chibs saw the way she gnawed into her bottom lip, the way she continually pulled Diane’s crucifix across the golden chain as means of comfort—or, maybe, it was just out of remorse.

He noticed that his daughter—his little girl—peered at Opie’s children sitting beside their grandmother as they said goodbye to the woman that brought them into the world.

He wondered if they understood the weight of it all. They were so young, so impressionable, so innocent, and he saw a lot of Isla in those two kids.

The dull throb of Isla’s heart almost slowed to a halt when the funeral commenced, and Jax was still completely out of sight. Juice held his cut while he stood beside Tara, feeling his chest tighten.

It was difficult to understand just why Jackson Teller didn’t show for such an important moment in Opie’s life.

“I can’t believe him.” Tig hissed out in a whisper, completely ruffled. Isla looked up at the man behind her, holding a dainty hand on top of his. “I can’t fucking believe him.”

He didn’t know what to say. Clay didn’t, either. As he stood beside his Sgt. At Arms and peered down at the disheveled blonde, Clay Morrow struggled to find the words to elucidate his disdain for the lack of action from his step-son.

Donna was family. Opie was family. Family was meant to be there for one another, not purposely ignoring such a pivotal event.

“He’ll be here.” Isla repeated her promise, melting into her space as Tig leant over to kiss the top of her head.

Her eyes glazed over instantaneously, coercing her to turn away before she broke down.

But she leaned backward into his embrace, and watched the ceremony commence.

And it only took a handful of moments for her mood to perk up—as much as it could have under the circumstances—but she was conceivably happier at the sight before her.

“I told you.” She mumbled. She refused to let up her grip on Tig, though, holding onto him firmer now.

It was comfortable. He was comfortable.

“What the fuck…”

Jax looked like hell. Still wearing last night’s clothes—still bloodied and bruised from his scuffle—he sauntered over the grass and made a beeline for Tara.

Isla’s throat hitched.

“Did you do that to him?” She mumbled in reference to the slit in his lip, craning her neck to eye the blue-eyed man.

“Yeah, probably.”

She just shook her head with a tiny smirk, shifting her focus back to the asshole that was taking his sweet fucking time.

It didn’t upset her as much as she thought that it would’ve, watching him go back to her like that. If anything, she was glad that they had managed to reconcile because she made him happy.

But, for a reason unbeknownst to herself, she felt bad for Wendy.

To watch the father of her newborn take his cut from a woman that’d only been back in his life for five minutes, to hold and kiss her in front of everyone, was something she shouldn’t have had to witness today.

They weren’t together, but she knew how that was bound to hurt—to sting and incapacitate her because it was all still so fucking raw.

Poor Wendy.

He took one of the flowers away from the sparse pile, holding it to his lips, and placed it atop Donna’s casket.

Jax glared over his shoulder, shooting the two guilt-ridden men a look that read fury. He made sure that Isla wasn’t looking at him when he did that, though.

He refused to look at her.

And he didn’t stay, either. He paid his respects for all of thirty seconds before stalking away, and leaving the most egregious of tastes on the tip of each tongue.

The funeral flew by, after that.

Before Isla knew it, she was dismounting Tig’s bike outside of T M—again—and stumbling over her heels when she couldn’t quite find her footing. She’d been in a world of her own for the last fifteen minutes.

“You want me to get you a beer?” She asked, handing him her helmet. “Or did you want some of that wine you like?”

He snorted at her taunt, taking it from her. “Beer—but none of that shit Bobby drinks.”

Isla chuckled, backing away from the bike and Tig.

“You want a drink, too?” She asked Clay when he strode over, hands in his pockets.

He nodded, waiting for her to slip out of sight before turning his attention to his Sergeant.

“What’s going on with you two?” Clay asked him accusingly, snatching Tig’s attention from the blonde who was ambling into the clubhouse.

He waved the pres off, lighting a cigarette. “Nothing, man. She’s just been helpin’ me out—“

“That’s what you’re calling it now, huh?”

“That’s what it is.” Tig shrugged, exhaling the smoke from his nostrils. “Y’know what she’s like. She sees someone that needs patchin’ up, and she does it. That’s all.”

Unconvinced, Clay leaned closer to him—striving for the little moment to go unnoticed by those that shrouded the lot. Jax and Tara, for one.

“That’s Chibs’s kid. You be careful.”

“Ain’t nothing to be careful about, brother.” Tig ground his lips together, squinting upward as he rested against his bike. “We’re just friends.”

“You stayed the night with her.”

“Yeah—“

“Twice.”

“Clay—“

“In the same fucking bed!” He snapped, running a hand over his face.

His desire to protect the women in his life—to assert the dominance he had, or his authority—was remarkably overbearing at the best of times.

Isla and Gemma didn’t particularly need to be coddled the way that they’d always been at the hands of Clay Morrow and his club, but they were.

And the thought of his sleaziest, loathsome, savage brother getting closer and closer to that woman churned his stomach. Because he knew what Tig was capable of—what he did—and would be damned if anything were to happen to her at the hands of Tig fucking Trager.

Chibs would kill him, too.

“Nothing happened, nothing’s currently happening, and nothing will happen.” He guaranteed. “Clay, I swear.”

“Alright.” Dubious, the older man responded. “But, if there is, then you be careful. Jax is onto us, and it’s only a matter of time before Isla puts two and two together—‘cuz she ain’t stupid.”

Be careful. Be careful. Be careful.

How about you shut the fuck up?

“I know she isn’t.” Almost irked that Clay would assume he thought that, he retorted. “But she’s got shit going on too, man, I don’t think she’s gonna be focusing on this right now so you don’t gotta worry.”

“Alright.” Clay repeated himself.

He didn’t think that his right-hand was telling him the truth, but he couldn’t exactly do anything about that until an issue arose.

What he did know, though, was that Tig Trager would’ve had some serious hell to pay if he had ignited something with Isla right now.

Or ever, really.

“Keep Jax away from her.” He told Clay, flicking his cigarette to the ground. “She’s pissed at him for what he did to me last night.”

“What’d he do?”

Tig pointed at the cuts on his cheek, grimacing. “She’s fucked off, and if they talk she’s probably gonna throw something at him.”

“Eh. Let her.” Clay waved him off, hastily shutting himself up when he heeded her heels clicking across the gravel toward them. “He needs to be humbled sometimes.”

The rivalry between the two had only intensified since Abel was born and Jax’s priorities shifted from the club.

His family came first. His biological family came first.

And maybe Clay didn’t understand the implications and responsibilities that came along with fatherhood because he’d never had that bestowed upon him, but Jax did.

He knew that he had to provide for his kid, for the one being that was solely dependent on him, and he would never compromise or jeopardize that.

Things weren’t going to be made easy for the man, however.

“Budweiser for you.” Isla smiled, handing a bottle to Tig. She passed one to Clay, holding onto it a little firmer as she offered it to him. “And one for you—but you need to take this, and go see your wife.”

“Why?” Hesitantly, he accepted the alcohol.

Isla shrugged. “She just wants to see you. Seems important.”

“Shit.” Clay hissed, taking a long swig before striding away.

She watched him stamp toward the clubhouse, heeding the change in his mood, and wondered why Gemma was so determined to talk to him at that specific moment.

It could’ve been anything with that woman, really. It could’ve been something so minor, completely insignificant, that Gemma had to get off her chest.

Or it could’ve been something along the lines of elucidating the bone-crushing lament that she held for both her husband and Tig.

Whatever it was, however, Clay wasn’t excited to face her.

“What’d he chew your ear off about?” Isla asked, struggling to open her beer. She sighed, suddenly remembering why she loved her screw-top bottles of wine so much.

“Pass it to me.” Tig took it from her, using his own bottle cap to pop hers off. He chuckled at her grimace, handing it back.

“Thanks.” She groaned, lifting it upward. “So…What did Clay want?”

Budweiser blanketed Tig’s tongue and lips as he pulled the drink away from his mouth, using the back of his hand to rub at the excess.

Quickly, he wondered whether lying to Isla—fabricating the truth and downplaying his superior’s concern—was in his best interest.

But she was perceptive. There was no doubt that she’d realize he was lying to her.

“He thinks that something is going on between us.”

She rolled her eyes, taking a pull.

“What?” A little nervous—on edge, perhaps—Tig asked her. “Did you already know that he felt that way?”

“No.” Instantly, she retorted. “I didn’t know about Clay, but Gemma feels the same. D’ya think they’ve talked?”

“Oh, definitely.” With a small glower, he told her.

They absolutely talked about the two, and that was what worried Tig.

There was nothing wrong with them colluding against the pair, as a rule. He wasn’t offended at the thought, he felt quite honored actually.

But it was the connotation that came alongside those conspiracies. The idea that Tig was only so friendly—so supportive and loving—toward Isla because he wanted one thing from her.

And, really, Tig hadn’t pondered that thought before. Well, not before last night, anyway.

For the first time—possibly ever—sex wasn’t on Tig’s agenda with Isla. Enticing her, breaking her heart, and sending her on her way was not something he wanted.

But Tig was renowned for that, wasn’t he? He was known for being a hapless bachelor. A man whose priorities were neither here nor there.

Everyone just expected that. They saw him with her, and came to that one conclusion.

Maybe Isla expected it a little bit, too. Because she’d known him long enough to understand the kind of man that he was—or had the propensity to be—and she could hardly lie and say that this version of Tig didn’t confuse her.

He’d always been the same with her, though. Perhaps that’d been the difference between every woman that entered and left his life, and Isla Telford.

He wasn’t interested in her. Like that.

“Does that bother you?” With an almost undetectable twinge of hurt, Isla asked.

As if it was a basic instinct, Tig shook his head. “Nah. They talk shit all the time. Stuff like that don’t bother me.”

She nodded, refusing to add anything else. Isla sipped her beer, hoping that the ground would open up and swallow her fucking whole.

There wasn’t a single word in the English language that’d ascribe her feeling at that precise time, but ashamed was possibly the closest she could’ve gotten.

And, still, that was a little bit further off the mark than what she would’ve liked. Because she wasn’t entirely ashamed for reacting the way that she had, more so the way that she fucking felt.

Isla’s heart took a blow when Tig told her that.

For why, though? She wasn’t sure.

It might’ve been the nonchalant expression. The complete colorless response that stirred a foreign emotion within her—striking hard against her chest.

Or, it might’ve been what he had said. It was such a casual proclamation. Something that didn’t mean anything, but everything simultaneously.

She didn’t feel anything for Tig. She didn’t particularly want to feel anything for him, either, but that hurt. A lot.

“Same, to be honest.” She lied, forcing her lips upward in a smile. “Gemma is always on my case about this sorta thing. But I just let it go over my head.”

“Always?”

“Yup. Always.” Isla mentioned around the protruding lump in her throat. “If she’s not talking about me and you—like there is a me and you—she’s talking about me and Jax. And if it isn’t that, she’s bitching about Wendy, or Tara, or just anything she can think of.”

Like there is a me and you.

Tig sniffed a little, nodding. He didn’t want Isla to think that bothered him, but it did. A bit, anyway.

“She’s so overbearing, sometimes.” Genuinely slumped, she stated. Isla leaned against the railing beside Tig’s bike, finally looking at him. “Don’t tell her I said that?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He chuckled, taking another swig. “I’d never purposely get you into shit with your mother—“

“She’s not my mother.” Her eyes rolled. “She acts like it, and I love her like one, but she is not my mother.”

Tig knew. He knew all too well just how Isla felt about that, and he wasn’t exactly sure why he said that to her, today.

Gemma was the best woman she knew and the one that, strangely, brought her all of the comfort and prosperity that she’d craved.

But she wasn’t her mother. She wasn’t close to being Diane, and maybe the comparison between the pair hurt a little. Because Gemma Teller-Morrow was nothing like Diane Telford—and the sooner everybody knew that, the sooner Isla could rest.

“I feel bad talking shit about her. All she’s done is help me.”

“And parent you.” He reminded her, tipping his bottle upward. “She parents all of us, but what I mean is she treats you like a kid sometimes. Jax, too.”

“Yeah. I know.” Peeved, she conceded. “But, what can I do? if I wanna keep her around—keep having her so close to me—then, I guess I’ve gotta make a few sacrifices. And, I mean, it’s not all bad.”

“No?”

“Absolutely not. I’m glad that she’s the woman that took a shine to me. If Luann ended up being the one…”

Tig smirked, sizing her up. “You’d probably be doing porn right now.”

“Exactly.” Without shame—not even feeling slightly bashful at the glance she was receiving—she said. “I don’t think I’d hate doing porn, but I don’t think SAMCRO would be thrilled.”

“Absolutely not. Chibs would kill you, for one.”

“And Gemma.”

“Clay, too.” Tig added, withering at the thought.

“What about you?” A little too bold, she asked.

Though their relationship was of the lighthearted nature, Isla wasn’t certain that the habitual riposte was a thing as of late. His response would probably jar her, she thought.

“I wouldn’t hate it.”

She halted, blushing at his words. Her ears prickled with heat, too.

“It’d be hot.” He shrugged, putting his empty bottle against the ground. “I’m sure Juice would love it, too—“

“Oh, get fucked.” She snorted a laugh, throwing the red cap at his chest as he got to his feet. It bounced off the fabric of his shirt, coercing a chuckle from Tig.

“It was only one time.” He taunted, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “That’s still one more time than most chicks ‘round here.”

“He wasn’t awful.” Isla shrugged. “He knew what he was doing, and I had fun. But, like, he hasn’t got any hair…”

“Hair?” Tig began to gesture downward, chuckling when she grabbed his hands to stop him.

“I don’t mean that. I mean hair on his head, Tig.” She calmed her laughter, letting go of him. “I like to tug on it, I guess.”

It felt somewhat illegal, obtaining this information from her.

He already knew that she was a sex fiend, that she liked it rough, and now that she had some kind of hair-pulling kink.

Tig’s chest tightened. So did his pants.

“Duly noted.” Like usual, he quipped. Tig motioned for Isla to head inside with him when he heeded things heating up between Jax and Tara.

She, as always, made a mental note to grill her friend later. Or, maybe, her friends. Because she and Tara were on that level, now, and she felt that things could’ve sailed smoothly between herself and the doctor.

Isla just hoped that she’d open up to her.

“Are you gonna talk to him?” He asked, reading her fucking mind. “I know that you two talk a lot.”

“Probably.” Her shrug was insouciant. “But I’ll leave it a while, I think. Leave the dust to settle over before I approach either one of them.”

Tig’s heart began to thrash. It battered viciously within the constraints of his chest, thumping at an unsteady rhythm the more Isla babbled on as they neared the clubhouse.

It was maiming him, having to keep this to himself.

He knew that concealing it—the weight of it all—was for the best. It’d guarantee peace and conformity within the club and Isla’s life, but it was also a crippling guilt that not even Tig was sure he’d be able to hold forever.

Clay was heartless, though. The nefarious leader hadn’t a single problem with lying through his fucking teeth, and Tig was more than aware that Clay would continue the charade if and when he decided that he could no longer.

He supposed he could thank him for that.

But, then again, he was also the reason that Tig Trager had found himself tangled within yet another web of lethal falsehoods. Thanking Clay was the very last thing that he wanted to do.

“Oh, shit.” Isla stated through partially gritted teeth. She gestured to her father and Happy’s scorned glares. “Why do I keep getting this fucking look from everyone?”

“It’s not you. It’s me.” He snorted another laugh, taking her hand and walking her further into the room after she stopped completely dead.

Really, Donna’s wake was as vibrant as it could’ve been and nobody—aside from Isla’s old man and the Tacoma Nomad—had their sights set on the Sergeant and Chibs’s daughter.

The atmosphere was strangely spirited, hearty and animated as everybody came together to celebrate the life of Opie’s wife…The way that they always had.

But Isla was still on tenterhooks. She loathed the thought of her dad disapproving of her, today, but she didn’t desire the castigation that would’ve come hand in hand with her need to talk to him.

“Tequila?”

“I’ll get back to you on that one.” She smiled at Tig, making a beeline for the bar when she saw Kip. He followed her.

“You’re turning down free alcohol?”

Isla scoffed. “It might be free, but the effects of it would cost me my fucking reputation here.”

Tig’s eyebrows raised. “How so? You don’t not drink, Isla.”

“I know.” Her lips pursed, watching Kip pop the caps off of six beers. “But I never drink tequila. It makes me…uh…it makes me feel a little hot—“

“Tequila turns you on, is what you’re saying.”

“Well, yeah.” A crimson blush bled over her cheeks, her nose, and even across her forehead as her entire face burned red. “It’s no big deal. Just something I discovered after getting black-out drunk when I’d barely turned twenty-one.”

If Tig wasn’t feeling aroused before, then he definitely was at her admission. He had to think of anything to throw his brain off of that mental image.

“I don’t tend to drink the strong stuff.”

“Unless it’s whiskey.”

She pointed with a smile, nodding her head. “That’s right—“

“Hey, what did you want?” Kip interrupted sheepishly, gesturing to the half-empty bottle she had between her fingertips. “Another Bud?”

“Yes, please.” Again, she smiled.

“Same for you?”

Tig nodded.

“Kip,” she began, “and you take something, too. You’ve dealt with these assholes for long enough, now. Take a break. I’ll man the bar if you’d like.”

“Oh, no, I can’t do that—Gemma’ll kill me—“

“With all due respect, fuck Gemma.” She heard Tig chuckle beside her, shrugging when the prospect glanced at the pair nervously. “She won’t say anything if I tell her that I’m the one that told you to take ten minutes away from the bar.”

“Yeah.” He backed her up, grinning. “She never gets mad at Isla.”

It was completely uncharacteristic of him. But she brought something out from the very chasms of Tig Trager’s cold, black heart, and he lauded that.

Not many people had managed to scrape beneath the surface that way, not even Colleen.

God.

Tig shook himself out of the daze he’d slipped into, watching Isla and Kip trade places as she stepped behind the bar, and he made a beeline for a stool.

He’d been standing for a while, now.

“Are you gonna join me behind here?” She asked, drawing Tig’s attention back to her. Isla held up another bottle for him, twinkling underneath the yellowed light above the liquor shelves.

She looked, almost, angelic.

“Sack—“ Tig grabbed at his arm when he tried to leave his seat, feeling the prospect go rigid under his grip.

Isla’s eyebrows bunched together.

“Take two beers for Hap and Chibs.” He released the grey shirt, grinning as he saw the man sweat—clearly anticipating something more than just doing a simple favor.

“Oh, sure.” Kip breathed a sigh of relief, taking the two bottles that Isla had slid toward him. “That all?”

“Yep.” She added, gesturing for him to get on his way and enjoy the break that he’d been appointed.

He headed toward the two men beside the pool table, handing them their beers and pointing toward Tig. He waved with a small smile—hoping to come off as genuine, rather than scheming.

Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it? Giving the two men a couple of beers to throw them off the scent—or, at least, to distract them from making a fuss—was just a ploy to defer attention from the two nestled amongst the alcohol.

And it seemed to work, too.

As Tig walked around the bar to join her on the other side, Isla popped a few bottle caps, mixed a few drinks, and talked to every person that stopped off in front of the oak, without being so much as glanced at by her father.

Gemma hadn’t noticed the change, either.

“You want anything?” She asked Tig, mindlessly pouring a glass of whiskey for one of the Tacoma guys. “Some tequila?”

Indifferently, he shrugged.

“Okay, well that was helpful.”

“Alright,” he chuckled, grabbing two shot glasses, “I’ll take one, if you do, too.”

“Tig.”

“Isla.” His tone was deriding, though she couldn’t help but smile.

She pushed the whiskey toward the unfamiliar Son, thanking him for showing his face today, and turned her attention back to Tig.

In the thirty seconds in which her focus had been diverted, he’d poured two shots, grabbed some salt, and two lime wedges from underneath the counter.

She swallowed thickly, hoping to god she’d be able to play off the effects of that liquor.

Because it was only the one, wasn’t it? She was only going to have one single shot of tequila and, surely, that wasn’t enough to intoxicate her…

Right?

“Aw, fuck.” She slurred, pushing the empty bottle aside. “I really—“ she hiccuped. “I really need to stop drinking.”

“Why?” Just as garbled, he responded.

“‘Cuz I feel like I’m gonna puke.” She snorted a laugh, pushing all of the limes strewn across the redwood into the bin. “And my breath stinks of tequila.”

He waved her off, looking at his chest as he wiped the alcohol from his leathers. “Tequila don’t smell that bad.”

Isla blushed, though she fished around her purse for some gum, regardless.

And her heart fucking plummeted to the pit of her stomach when she noticed the bottle of antidepressants in the smaller compartment, suddenly realizing that her excessive alcohol consumption tonight was for sure going to mess with her.

Shit.

“Water?” He asked, holding two empty glasses. He heeded the dread in her expression, how she looked like she’d seen a fucking ghost.

“Please.”

Tig handed her one of the glasses, slinging his free arm over her shoulder—mainly in an attempt to stabilize her—and padded over to the kitchen.

The clubhouse was a little more sparse, now. Jax and Tara sat alongside Juice, Chibs, and Happy, meanwhile Gemma and Clay were meters apart from one another.

But nobody seemed to notice the lack of manpower behind that bar, which was a wonderful thing. Because Isla feared that she might’ve collapsed had she not hydrated herself.

She feared that she might’ve said, or done, something that she might’ve regretted, too.

Tequila did make her feel “hot”, after all.

“God, I need this so bad.” She practically moaned, twisting the cold water tap, haphazardly holding her glass underneath it.

Isla didn’t even shut the water off, she just chugged that slightly lukewarm—strangely beautiful—liquid like her life depended on it.

“Fuck.” She gasped for air, putting her glass atop the draining board. “Oh my god, that was so fucking good.”

Tig watched in awe.

As droplets of water trickled from her lips, and chin, to her chest, Tig subtly groaned to himself. He stifled a reaction, however.

“Yeah?”

“Oh, hell yeah.” She nodded.

Tig held her glass underneath the tap again, filling it half way. “You want some more?”

Isla took it from him, cocking her head a little when he didn’t let go of the glass. “What?”

“How’d that tequila make you feel?”

“What?” She repeated herself, forgetting about what she told him earlier. “Oh…”

“How’d it make you feel?” He pressed, releasing his grip though lifting his hand to brush his thumb underneath her glossy lips.

“Good.” Isla stumbled over her words, watching his eyes flick over her features. She gulped, though she put the glass straight back down. “Really, really good.”

Tig jolted, though relaxed when she let her hands rest against his shoulders. He hadn’t expected this today. Or ever, really.

“How good is really really good?” He asked, twisting a couple of ringed fingers through long, loose curls.

Her heart was no longer sinking to the pit of her stomach, but fluttering wildly within her palpitating chest.

“Pretty good.”

“Right.” He caught her bluff, nodding. “I could think of something that’d make you feel really, really, really good, y’know?”

“You think?” Isla leaned into him when a hand pressed into the small of her back, and the other holding onto the nape of her neck. She shivered. “Because I think you could.”

Confidently, he bobbed his head. “Oh, I could.”

She was a bundle of nerves, frankly. Tig was so nonchalant, so breezy, and she was just so fucking fraught.

But he didn’t seem to notice—or care—while he surveyed her face, grinding his lips together in anticipation. He lowered his head a little to meet her height, though she still stood on her toes.

“Make me feel really good, Tig.” She whispered, the citrusy scent of tequila permeating his senses, quickening the rate of his pulse.

Isla’s sweet, soft lips ghosted over his own as she exuded a satisfied sigh, loosening up at the feeling of their noses brushing over one another.

It was so gentle. She hasn’t expected a man of such stature, such hunger and animosity, to be capable of something so soothing.

An unmistakable burst of desire started to seep through her, humming against his lips as she opted to wrap both arms around his neck while he backed her up against the sink.

With the support against her lower back, Isla wound a leg around his waist as the kiss amplified and Tig began to grind his hips into her whilst simultaneously moaning.

She didn’t know how badly she needed this tonight.

Pink nails wound into his unruly curls, mindlessly nudging through the hair—pushing him to hasten. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, then. Lauding the flavor of tequila and cigarettes.

But Isla promptly froze at the sound of footsteps—heels, precisely—clicking across the tile.

“Tig, wait.” She jerked her head a little, urging him to stop. “I can hear Gemma—“

“You can see her, too.” The matriarch stated, rounding the corner and immediately coming into Isla’s line of sight.

Both Tig and the blonde shifted to look at her.

“Am I interrupting something?”

#tig trager #tig trager x oc #tig trager fic #tig trager fanfiction #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fandom #sons of anarchy #jax teller #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller x oc

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gyll-yee-haw · 4 years

Text

The Assistant

Quentin Beck smut

Prompt (requested): Quentin finds out that his cute new assistant (the one who loves to tease and be a little brat to him) is a virgin... and he's got plans for her.

Warnings: lots of teasing and dirty talk, idk if it has more degradation or praising, I like to mix it lol.... mentions of losing your virginity, unprotected sex and a surprisingly soft daddy Quentin

Like 3k words

---

From the minute you stepped into that lab, you had Quentin's attention.

He thought you were the prettiest little thing he had ever seen, but he couldn't allow distractions, so he never really gave you too much attention, just left you there doing your job.

The thing is that you were brilliant at it. There was no way he could ignore your presence.

As time passed, you kept impressing him… And he became kinda obsessed with you.

He thought about you more than he should.

He got jealous whenever he saw another employee talking to you (maybe they mysteriously got fired after).

So he asked one of your coworkers to get really close to you., and find out as many information as possible from you. Like what you liked to do on your free time, what were your ambitions… or if you were single. If he found out you weren't, there's nothing he wouldn't do for you to be.

But he didn't have to waste any time on planning something against your partner's life cause you didn't have one, and he was relieved to hear that.

But those aren't even the best news he got that day

He also heard from your coworker after a small party you attended to that weekend (with a little drinking and a few games) that you were still a virgin. He lost his mind at the thought of you being his and ONLY his. No other man had ever had the privilege to touch you.

Now he had to make you his.

So you were promoted to his personal assistant.

You were thrilled. Not only because you got a better job, but you had this HUGE admiration for Quentin, and being able to get closer to him was amazing.

On the first days, he just showered you in questions. And the better he knew you, the more fascinated he grew.

But you were a little confused. Didn't seem right for your boss to be asking so many personal questions. Sometimes, his questions seemed to have a double meaning. And you knew Quentin was way too smart to not notice that. So the only way you had to find out what he really wanted was playing his game.

One day, you were at his office, and both of you were minding your own business, but you decided that the teasing would start that day.

So your eyes focused on him until he noticed it, and when he looked back at you, they would quickly go back to your computer.

One time was enough to make him suspicious, but after the third one, he couldn't stand it anymore.

"Do you need anything?" He asked, making your heart race.

Pissing him off was exciting, but you knew it was also very dangerous.

"No, sir, I'm sorry." You lied, without taking your eyes off your computer screen.

You started slowly. That was only the first day. On the next ones, you started going a little further. Like smiling at him when he caught you staring. Or asking your own suggestive questions.

Like this one time, when you walked into his office and walked towards his desk, standing beside it until he finally acknowledged your presence.

"Can I help you?" He sighed, looking at you. He was getting tired of your games. He was so confused. You looked pretty innocent by the way you answered to his questions, but there was something in your eyes that made him doubt that.

"Yes, Mr. Beck." You bit your lip, trying to control your smirk as you carefully planned your next words. "I was wondering if I look okay to you."

He raised his eyebrows and waited for you to explain yourself, so you continued:

"I mean… now that I'm your assistant, people will see me next to you all the time. I know you never mentioned anything, sir, but do you think the way I dress is okay?"

That was the first time in a while someone left him speechless like that.

"I appreciate how much you care about your job, Y/N." He finally replied. "If you're worried about that, I could get you some money to buy new clothes."

You didn't expect that at all, you were just teasing him.

"Thank you, sir… but does that mean you don't think I'm pretty now?" You used a sweet, sad tone.

"No, I think you're so fucking pretty." He looked at your body in a way that made you a little shy. "And I don't really care what you're wearing. If you want my sincere opinion, honey, you should wear a lot less than that."

You pressed your thighs together at those words. This was all about driving HIM crazy, but he always found a way to be on control. And he noticed how he made you feel, of course he did.

"You look so eager to be a great assistant." He chuckled darkly. "You would do anything I asked you to, wouldn't you?"

You nodded with no hesitation.

"Good girl." He smiled and caressed you cheek with his finger. "Go back to work, then."

You were in shock. You were frozen beside him trying to process everything. You wanted him so bad, you wouldn't be able to focus on work now. But you walked back to your desk, cause what other choice did you have?

Well, you weren't giving up now.

On the very next day, every single pair of eyes landed on you when you walked into that building.

You were wearing the shortest skirt you could find. And one of those shirts that were a little transparent, with a cute little lace bra under it. Red lipstick. It was impossible not to look.

Quentin was furious. He was possessive, and now everyone was talking about "his girl".

5 minutes after you arrived you were already yelled at. He wanted you in his office. Immediately.

When you walked in, you shivered at his state. He was so angry, and he always looked so hot like that. Sitting on his chair, a hand closed on a fist on his table, his eyes looking at a distant spot… you could almost see that inside his head there was nothing but madness.

"What do you think you're doing?" He sighed, trying to control his anger. "Why are you dressed like that?"

"Well, sir… yesterday you said that you wanted me to wear less clothes. I just wanted to please you."

"Please me?" He thought for a second. "Come closer."

Seemed like a pretty dangerous thing to do, but there was no turning back now.

When you got close enough, he pulled you by the arm, forcing you to sit on his lap, which made you gasp.

"I know you're not stupid, Y/N. I wouldn't be interested in you if you were." He said, running his hand through your thigh. "So why are you doing this? Do you want attention?"

"Yes, sir." You bit your lip as his hand travelled now between your thighs.

"You wanted my attention?" He chuckled. "Well, but I don't want other people looking at my things. Wanting my things…"

He was treating you like just another prize he won and you couldn't understand why you were okay with that. Or why you would be anything he wanted you to be.

"Maybe I should fire you." He said, placing a kiss on the back of your neck.

"No, sir, please… I can be useful to you." You begged.

"I know you can. And you will." He said as his hand got closer and closer to where you needed it, but never actually there.

You were on fire, you just wanted to rub yourself on his thigh, but you were afraid to move unless he asked you to.

"Now come on." He said, forcing you to stand up. "Let's go to your place. We'll get you changed."

"I don't want to go." You muttered.

"Excuse me?" He raised his eyebrows.

"We have work to do." You explained. "And there is nothing wrong with the way I am dressed."

He immediately grabbed you by the neck and said: "We are going to your place right now."

---

You were thrilled. One more time. Life beside Quentin was never boring.

The drive back to your place was silent. Your eyes were glued to the way he was holding the wheel a lot tighter than he had to. His forearms were so tense. Absolutely beautiful.

The moment you walked into your place, you went directly to your bedroom and he followed you.

"Do I have to change in front of you?" You asked sarcastically. "To make sure you'll approve it?"

"Enough." He sighed. "Why are you acting like a fucking brat? You used to be such a good girl for me…"

You didn't have an answer to give him. Cause you wanted attention? Not really, you had that already. You were doing that simply because it was fun.

"You know what? You don't have to go back with me. You're fired."

"No, sir, don't do that, please!" Your eyes widened. "I'm so sorry, just give me a chance, I will be good again, I promise…"

"I don't usually give people a second chance, you know that." He shrugged. "But it would be a shame to lose you, I have to admit that."

His eyes traveled your body as he walked in circles, trying to make up his mind. You were paralyzed. Not that you were obsessed with your job, but you kinda were with your boss. You knew he wouldn't want to see you ever again.

"I will give you one last chance…" He decided. "If you prove that you're loyal to me. Not to the company, to me. You know you're over qualified to be only an assistant… and I have bigger plans for you."

"I would do anything for you, sir." You nodded eagerly.

"Now that's my good girl." He chuckled and stood in front of you. He leaned closer and placed his hand on your cheek, gently stroking it with his thumb. "My pretty girl."

That man had some kind of power over you that didn't allow you to think straight. Even when you thought you could play him, he found a way to be on control. All you knew was that you wanted him as bad as he wanted you. And before you could think twice, you enjoyed the proximity to kiss him.

You thought he would push you away and leave you there alone and needy, but the fact was that he was holding himself back since the minute you walked into his office that day. So he kissed you back. It was a hungry, messy kiss. His hands quickly went to your waist and pulled you against his body.

He guided you towards your bed without breaking the kiss.

"Not exactly what I had in mind." He chuckled. "But you never fooled me. I always knew you weren't innocent."

You lay on your bed and he climbed on top of you.

"Mr. Beck…" You got a little nervous when you realized how far things had gone. "I have never done this before."

"I know, baby." He said on his sweetest tone. "But I'm gonna take care of you, okay? I'll be good for you. There's no need to be scared. Also, there's no need to call me Mr. Beck here. Call me whatever you want, okay?"

You hesitated for a second, then you whispered the most innocent "daddy" he had ever heard in his entire life.

"Fuck, what did you just say?" He grabbed your chin and forced you to repeat it right to his face, to make sure it was real.

"Can I call you daddy?" You asked nervously.

"God fucking damnit, Y/N." He visibly lost his mind. "Now you can't call me anything else ever again."

"Daddy." You smiled at the effect that little word had on him.

"Yes, babygirl." He slid his hand under your skirt, but this time he didn't tease as much as before, stroking you over your underwear. "Now daddy's gonna make you feel so good."

You bit your lip and nodded. That could be considered a permission for him to do whatever he wanted to you.

So he helped you remove all of your clothes. He removed his shirt too, but he had to stop and take a moment to admire you. No man in the world had ever looked at you like that. With that much lust. That look on his eyes alone would be enough to make you want him, but the sigh of his shirtless chest was something else too.

His hands travelled your body and ended up on your chest, and he decided to dedicate a few minutes to your boobs.

You were starting to think that he planned on fucking you back in his office, but he changed his mind cause he wanted to take his time with you. So ending up in your bedroom had absolutely nothing to do with the clothes you were wearing. Actually, Quentin would love to show you off. He was only mad cause you turned him on that much at the wrong place and time.

But part of you wished he would have finished this at his office, because you couldn't stand this anymore. He played with your nipples until you were desperate for him to fuck you.

"Daddy, please." You begged, pressing your thighs together.

"Please, what?" He smirked at your state.

"Need you inside me so bad." You admitted.

"Do you, honey?" His hands left your boobs and went to your thighs, forcing them open. His fingers started to stroke your folds and you gasped. "Fuck, babygirl. You really do. Look at how fucking wet you are. All for me."

He shoved two fingers inside you at once, making you moan loudly.

"So thigh, princess. Can't wait to stretch you open with my cock. Is that what you want?" He asked, and you nodded eagerly. "Beg for it just a little more. You wouldn't have to if you weren't such a little brat earlier... now you have to earn it."

"I'm sorry, daddy." Your hips bucked as he rubbed your clit so hard. "I won't be a brat anymore, I will be good now."

"Hm." He muttered uninterested and kept rubbing you.

"Daddy… I'm gonna-" You started to feel your orgasm building in your belly because of how good he was touching you and the things he was saying.

"No, you're not." He stopped everything. The look of betrayal on your face was hilarious to him. "Not until you beg."

"Please, daddy, please." You obeyed. "I need your cock, I promise I'll be loyal to you forever, but please…"

He didn't want to give up so soon. Maybe it was because of the tears in your eyes, or that fact that he was painfully hard that made him break.

But you were relieved when you saw him taking off the rest of his clothes. And you couldn't even describe how you felt when you saw his cock.

He placed it on your entrance and started to kiss you again, before he finally entered you. You cried out from pain and pleasure. He started to move slowly.

"Daddy is always gonna give you what you need, as long as you deserve it, honey." He told you as he kissed your neck. "Tell me how you're feeling."

"So big, daddy, so good." You smiled at him. "So good."

"You sound so dumb right now, you little slut." He chuckled.

That was definitely the last thing you expected sex with Quentin to be like. So smiley. Sweet on it's own way. Maybe because it was your first time. Maybe he had a heart after all.

After he was sure you were ready, he started going faster and harder. It was heaven. Didn't take too long for your to feel your orgasm building from where it was brutally interrupted before.

"Daddy, please… can I cum now?" You begged, which pleased him very much. He didn't even have to ask this time.

"Yes, babygirl, cum on daddy's cock before I fill you up, come on." He told you.

The thought of him coming inside you was enough to bring you to the edge. You came so hard, because you needed that for so long. Quentin couldn't decide what was hotter: your face, your moans or the way you held him tightly while your walls clenched around him.

And he kept his promise, spilling himself inside of you a few seconds later.

He kept his cock inside you and brought his hand to your face, caressing it slowly.

"I'm your first and the only man you'll ever have." He whispered. "You're mine now. You were mine since the day you walked into that office for the first time."

"I'm yours." You agreed. "And you're my daddy."

"Right, I'm your daddy." He chuckled. "I have huge plans for you, babygirl…"

#quentin beck #quentin beck x reader #quentin beck smut #quentin beck x you #quentin beck imagine #quentin beck fanfiction #Mysterio #mysterio x reader #mysterio smut #mysterio x you #mysterio x y/n #mysterio imagine #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal x reader

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