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kirishoshego · 3 years

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Favorite Crime//Kirishima

!!MINORS DNI!! 18+ only

(at this point big shout out to you for coming up with these ideas!) this time under the title "Hey, watch it creep" My second piece for another collab created by@ultimate-astridwriting

Pairing: Yandere!ProHero!Kiri x fem!reader Words:7.6k

Summary: Meeting your fav Pro Hero at a convention was meant to be a one time thing, but coincidentally you somehow lost your most important belongings. And what a coincidence that out of everyone Red Riot himself found it.

TW: yandere, possessiveness, mild manipulation, dc (stalking, mention of death and murder, but not explicitly described, him keeping you locked up only mentioned at the very end, thoughts about it coming sooner), break in, long sex scene on the kitchen table, cunnilingus, fingering, choking, biting, leaving bite marks, Daddy Kink, softdom!Kiri, praise, size kink slightly, unprotected sex

Deafening screams surrounded you as you were waiting for the big double doors to open. Luck, that's what you called it when you got one of the last VIP-Tickets, considering they were sold out in seconds. It was still hard to believe that you were going to meet Red Riot himself, again. You knew him from before his fame, he had saved you once from a small accident you were involved in and ever since then he was your number one hero. By now he had saved hundreds of lives, there was no way he would remember you. And even without a personal backstory he would be your #1.

The black doors opened, revealing two buff looking security guards on each side. They kept a straight face while checking each ticket and searching through the belongings before people who were shining brighter than the sun entered the huge hall. Your excitement was soon replaced with fear, the anxious feeling of something going wrong bubbling up deep inside of the pit of your stomach. There was no chance things shouldn't go well, you tried to calm yourself down. The ticket was bought fair and square, not from a sketchy third partner, you had no weapons in your pockets or purse. But what if the code won't scan? If they think you faked it, call the cops on you, you will be banned from ever coming here again, no chance of ever meeting Kirishima again.

"Madam? Please continue walking, you're holding up the line," the security guard told you as she handed you the VIP bracelet. Every thing was just fine just said to yourself as you stepped into the event that's about to change your life. You were astonished at how colorful the hall was. Food stands were scattered around filling the big room with a comforting smell of everything sweet and savory. People were dressing up as characters from movies, animes and mangas or comics. Merchandise was showcased and sold. Special merch worth more than your rent for the next five month and others so expensive you would probably have to sell your soul for.

Fate, that's what he called it when his eyes landed on you from the raised platform through the tinted windows. While you were admiring some art, he was admiring another piece of art: you. The scene of him saving you played in his head as if it was yesterday, how you clung to him, looking up into his red eyes as if he was some sort of god. Never would he forget your smell, sweet and intoxicating. Kiri still carried the bracelet you gave him as a thank you, apologizing because it was nothing special, even after he told you it was his job, you don't need to give him anything. Now it was his lucky charm, taking it with him wherever he went. Warmness spread through his body when he spotted you buying a T-Shirt of his. You thought about him too.

Kirishima had spent two years searching for you, changing his work-out routine just so he could pass by the crash scene in hope to bump into you again. But how was he supposed to find you if he didn't even knew your name. Luck just didn't seem to be on his side. Until now. You were here, he finally had a second chance to get you and he wasn't going to pass it up. No matter who you were here with or for, he is going to be the only one on you will leave with.

"Red Riot, you with us?" one of the PR people pulled him away from you, back to the conversation they were having. "What? Sorry, of course," he said, looking down again only to find you missing again, silently cursing the man behind him. "You seem a bit lost, everything alright Eiji?" Mina asked him as she stepped beside him, putting her hand on his muscular arm. "Yeah, sorry, just a bit nervous. That's all. Thank you for asking," she offered him a bite of the donut she was currently eating to calm him down a bit, which he gladly accepted, feeling a bit more at ease now. He will find you this time, no doubt in his mind.

Three minutes. That's how long it took Kirishima to find you among everyone else. At first he over looked you, which really wasn't his fault. Someone dressed up as Elias Ainsworth was simply covering your smaller frame, but the moment his searching eyes fell on you his heart skipped a beat. You were here. For him. To see him, to be with him. Only five more people he thought, he could do that.

But now that he had seen you time appeared to be moving argonising slow. Minutes felt like hours and as much as he tried he could barely listen to whatever his fans told him, all his attention, all his thoughts where on you. His smile didn't falter once and he was kind to all, but he couldn't help and rush the small meetings.

"Hey love," his voice was deep, raspy and set of butterflies in your stomach, the warmness of his smile spreading through your body. "Hey Red Riot," your voice was small, quiet, everything it wasn't supposed to be. "Please call me Eijiro," first name basis. Even Kirishima would have been an honour, but he wanted you to call him by his name, had to hear you say it, make him feel like he's finally home. "I'm Y/N," you introduced yourself, your voice feeling a bit more secure. "Y/N, what a beautiful name," the effect his compliment had on you made him smile even more, it appeared to be easy to fluster you. "Thank you, Eijiro," he wanted you to say it over and over and over again, with love and adoration, moan it out while he pleased you better than any other human could even dream about.

"Are you here with someone?" an uneasy feeling made its presence felt. What if you were in love with someone else? „No. I'm here alone, my friend who wanted to tag along fell sick," you explained to him, noticing the tension that had build up in his body now leaving. "How long are you going to stay?" Kirishima asked, feeling less stressed once you revealed you plan on staying till early evening, considering there will be a small conference with the heroes. You didn't want to miss the opportunity of seeing everyone else here.

There was so much he wanted to tell you, ask you, get to know you, keep you with him, he couldn't handle loosing you again. But the photographer cleared his throat, pointing to his clock. He knew there was no way around meeting everyone else, so the faster this was over, the sooner he could be with you.

"I'll see you later," it wasn't a question, it was a statement, a promise. Nobody noticed his hand slipping into your bag when he hugged you goodbye. Nobody noticed how your keys and wallet disappeared into the big inner pockets of his jacket. He didn't do anything wrong, he wouldn't do anything with it, he would simple borrow it for a while, there was nothing wrong with that, right? "I hope so," you told him, sad that you had to part ways.

"Next," called the photographer, after handing you the printed out picture, the frame for it already awaiting you at home.

The interaction between the two of you still didn't answer you wether or not he remembered you. You never stood a chance with him anyway, he is a famous pro hero after all, he already said there was currently no time for someone serious in his life. That was until you sat in between the rather small crowd hanging on every word the heroes said while sitting on the stage. He revealed he had his eyes on someone. Your heart shouldn't hurt as much as it did, but you couldn't deny the feeling of your heart contracting.

The same way his did when he noticed you were gone. He had seen you in the crowd, waved at you when he went on stage, there was merely a tiny time frame of maybe ten seconds where his eyes weren't on you. Kirishima had to calm himself down, his erection growing harder by the minute, watching you wrap your lips around the wooden straw and thinking about how they would feel wrapped around him instead. He felt like fourteen again, mentally slapping himself for being turned on by something as simple as that, which definitely was a first for him. Those few seconds allowed you to slip away. Or at least you tried, considering you had no where to go without your car or money.

All he had to do to find you was walk onto the parking lot. Your cussing could be heard even from afar, telling yourself how stupid you were for not being more careful. "Everything okay?" his sudden appearance startled you and he almost felt bad when he noticed how defeated you look. "Oh, Eijiro. Yeah everything is okay, I'm fine," you brushed off, but the look of a lost puppy written across your face told him otherwise. "I'm not stupid you know?" he raised his eyebrows, leading you to a bench surrounded by small flowers, shielded by a big tree.

"Someone stole my stuff, I don't know how to get home. Also my phone died and my portable charger is in the car, so…“ you told him. A sigh left your lips as you looked at him through your lashes. "Y/N, that's really not a problem. I can drive you home, I'll talk to the organizer and security, maybe someone already found it and gave it to them or they will find it when they clean. It's not the end of the world, okay?," he laid his arm around you and pulled you into him, the heat radiating off of him calming you down. "Ki- Eijiro, that's really kind of you, but I can't-" you missed the flash of anger across his face. He won't let you turn him down. "I won't accept a no,“ before you could say anything he pulled out something from his pocket with a cheesy smile, hoping to lift up your mood.

"I still have your bracelet," he remembered. "You didn't forget about me," disbelieve was waved in your voice as you starred at the small object in his hand. "Never," red eyes took in every little detail about you, from tiny scars to anything that ornamented your face. "Come on, let's get you inside, it's getting a bit cold. I will talk to the staff and you can grab something to eat from our buffet," offered the tall man. He just wanted you to be happy, wanted you to feel save with him, wanted you to trust him. "Thank you," and you did, how could you not when he was basically a sunshine walking on two legs.

Whatever you offered, he declined it, telling you he had to go this way anyway. Which was the half truth, considering he should have turned right about twenty minutes ago instead of left. He just didn't want you to feel bad. Kirishima had asked you all sorts of thing, some more personal than others. Suspicious was the last thing he wanted you to be right now. It’s not like he didn’t care about your favorite color or band, but right now all he wanted to know was wether or not you’re seeing someone. You didn’t.

As you went to step out of his car Eijiro stopped you, asking for your number so he could text you if they find anything. You were more than happy to comply, smiling when he wished you a good night, texting you once he got home:

Meeting you again was awesome, I’m glad I have you back in my life :)

A week had almost passed and you found yourself texting the Pro Hero more and more. They found your belongings the next day, so Kiri offered to drop them by within the next few days. He had to find a reason to text you longer, had to build a relationship with you.

The red haired man send you a bouquet of flowers and a cute stuffed animal that reminded him of you after you told him your ex was found murdered. His body crushed like a grape. You had told you weren't really sad, he wasn't kind to you in the past, but it still didn't leave you unbothered. Probably got mixed up in a gang fight, his addiction wasn’t unknown and the case was quickly closed by the police.

Something he didn't want to find out while texting was that you were going on a date tonight. Everything between the two of you was going so great and now another man ruined it. You could have said no, but it wasn't your fault, you simply didn’t know any better. It was your dates fault for thinking he could try to take you away from him. Another reason why he had to keep you save from the outside.

He stood me up you texted him, feeling annoyed by the fact your date wasn't even mature enough to let you know it won't work.

I'm sorry. He didn't text you or anything? Of course he didn't, Kirishima thought to himself, watching the burning car. What a pity that his brakes didn't work. You should always check before you go somewhere.

No, nothing. He didn't even reply to my last message

Wait for me love, I'll be there shortly x

It was easy for him to get you to share your location with him. All he wanted was to look out for you, make sure you're safe when he isn't near you. The world is so cruel and you're his friend, that's all he had to say to you. Kirishima loved how naive you were just for him.

Usually you paid attention, don't give away too much, don’t give up the control you had with your surroundings. But it's different with him. He wasn't sure if you even noticed how much you trusted him, how easy it was for you to put your life in the hands of Red Riot. Misusing that trust would never pop into his head, he loved you for so long now, but he was scared he will lose you again. He might just has to keep you to him entirely. Would you let him? Or did he had to take you?

When he arrived at the luxurious restaurant his breath hitched in his throat as his red eyes landed on your gorgeous figure, clad in the most beautiful piece of clothing he had ever seen.

"Hey love," he greeted you, feeling your arms wrap around his torso, the smell of your perfume hitting his nostrils. "Hey Eijiro, you didn't need to come here. I could have just gone home and eat some take out," you explained, his hug around you tightening. It made you feel warm, not knowing his grip turned harder out of anger. Why would you always tell him about the things you could do without him. Every time he offered to be with you you would say no, tell him you didn't want to bother him. Did you not realize how in love he was? Or did you and you simply didn't feel the same? The thought of you turning him down made him even angrier, to a point of you squeaking out that you couldn't really breath. He apologized with a laugh, complimenting you. You didn't even got to say no after he told you to go inside again to have the date with him instead, as the tall man already pushed you through the door.

All he had to do was drop his name, a table ready within five minutes and an appetizer already awaiting you. As much as you would love to call this a date, you had to remind yourself that he was seeing someone. Never would you try and get between them, possibly destroying their happiness. His happiness. The sorrowful reminder of the two of you just being friend still stung. Even though you thought you had convinced yourself you only liked him as nothing more than that.

"They gave me your things by the way, they’re in my car. I would like to drive you home, is that okay?" he liked to give you the illusion of having a choice. "Are you sure? I can take the bus," you offered, knowing how far away his cottage was. "Nonsense, come on," he held the door open for you yet again, his eyes wandering to your beautiful ass that he would love to feel in his big hands, groping it and leaving his print in red on its flesh.

The car ride was filled with music and small talk, telling him about your day and your plans for the rest of the week and visa versa. When his fingers, draped over the shift gear, slightly brushed your thigh you shifted in your seat, turning your legs away from him. Kirishima's hand turned red, white spots appearing, caused by the tight grip on his shift. It almost cracked the leather and metal.

"So how are you and your... partner?" way to go, you thought to yourself. You knew a whole lot about him by now, but you have never talked about his sexuality. As far as you knew he could be gay. And because he never talked about the person he is seeing you couldn't just assume anything about them.

Why were you suddenly asking about Bakugou? Was he wrong about you? Where you like his last lovers? It didn't matter to him that they used him to get close to his best friend because he used them as well. But you? It felt like part of him died.

"Bakugou is just fine," his jaw was clenched and as much as he tried to keep his happy face on for you, the thought of you touching yourself to the thought of his best friend and not him? Craving Bakugou, wishing for his lips to be on yours, his arms wrapped around you, not Kirishima's. "Oh..." his eyes flickered to your face for a few seconds before returning to the road, seeing a surprised look painted on your face. "I didn't know the two of you were a thing! That's great though," while your lips were curved upwards your eyes didn't match. "What?" now it was his turn to be bewildered. "I mean, I heard the rumors of some fans shipping you, I didn't know they were true! Don't worry your secret's save with me," his body language told you how much he disliked the current situation and you didn't mean to push him.

"No... Wait. I am so confused right now. Why do you think I'm dating my best friend?" he asked you, turning into your street. Once you explained your train of thoughts his booming laugh filled the vehicle, relieve filling his whole body and feeling a ton being lifted off of his shoulders. „Oh, hahaha no. No, I'm not seeing anyone. What I meant at the con was- oh shit," the car stopped abruptly, his big arm immediately going across your chest to stop you from being pushed forward even with the seat belt on.

"Wha-" your eyes had followed his gaze, spotting whatever had him looking like he had seen a ghost. Your door was ajar and you spotted a cornice across your window from inside. It was dark but the street lights allowed you to see just enough. The shoe cabinet in your entrance was knocked over, jackets laying on the floor. The man next to you ordered you to wait in his locked car before he went inside, his quirk activated.

If the situation wasn't so dangerous your mouth would be watering at the sight of Red Riot in action. A breath you didn't know you were holding escaped your lips once he came back in sight. "Nobody is in there but I don't think it's save," his raspy voice told you as he opened your door, his hand finding place in the small of your back as you went inside. "You should pack your things and stay with me for a while, just so we're sure nobody is trying to harm you in particular," he let you know. "Why would anyone try to get to me? I don't have a useful quirk. My parents aren't rich, neither am I, I don't hold any power," you said, his hand stopping you from cleaning. "We should call the police. If you move anything it might mess up evidence on it," he knew what he was talking about, he had experienced these type of situations plenty of times. "Didn't your ex recently die? What if there is a crazy lover going around? Maybe he still owns someone money. You know you're save with me Y/N. I'm not that far away from you, your work is right around the corner, just a different direction," he saw a small part of you still hesitating to accept his offer, while another part of you wanted to be with him.

"I promise you, as long as you stay with me, nothing bad will happen to you," Kirishima would never let anything happen to you, never. He couldn't forgive himself if he let something hurt you. "That would be nice,“ you didn’t know the weight your words carried. It was like a modern Beauty and the Beast, only this time the Beast was already in love with his Beauty.

It worked :) Candy is send, should arrive soon.

It did, tastes delicious.

2k and a VIP pass to the next con was all it costed him to convince a small-time criminal he had caught before to break into your house and cause some chaos. Nobody was going to get hurt and he would never get in trouble for it promised Kirishima. And he would hold that promise dear to him. Because if that guy would get caught so did the hero, who had a lot more on the line. Which luckily for Eijiro that guy didn't think about much.

An hour later you stood in a huge entrance floor. Dark marble floors radiating warmth, caused by underfloor heating, welcoming the pacing of your feet as you slipped out of your jacket. "Eijiro, this place is beautiful! I might never leave again," you laughed to convey your joke. "You can stay forever if you want," as if you had a choice, he thought to himself, glad you liked your new home. He had renovated it a bit in the last week, making sure everything was the best of the best.

"Why don't you slip into something comfy? I'll do so too and then we can watch a movie if you like?" he offered and even though you felt tired watching a movie with him did sound like a great idea. He showed you around the house, explaining how Bakugo had helped with most of the interior design.

„I just don’t have an eye for that, but Katsuki? He’s brilliant,“ he explained, stopping at a wall covered in pictures. All of his friends had gifted him pics when he moved, so he decided to dedicate a wall to them. Pointing at a photograph of the two of you set off butterflies in your stomach. „That’s my newest addition, you look so beautiful here,“ Mina made that picture of the two of you, he had wrapped you in his jacket before walking back inside to talk to the security guards. (Y/e/c) eyes were fixed on him, laughing about a joke he made, his hand pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

„This is the bathroom, if you need anything, just call me. Conditioner and everything is in there, feel free to use whatever,“ Kirishima offered, laying out a warm towel for you after you asked to hop under his shower.

"Please don't laugh. I thought I grabbed a different shirt but I must have been a bit lost in my thoughts," you told him, feeling heat rising up in your cheeks. When going through your bag you were so sure you had grabbed a plain big shirt, but it turned out to be the one you had bought at the con. It's not like he didn't knew you were a fan, it was just weird to wear his merch in front of him. "I think it's really cute," the man clad in a pair of grey sweatpants and a loose red shirt patted the spot next to him, a drink and soft blanket waiting for you already.

He had been drawing spiral patterns all over your upper legs and while his eyes starred at the screen he didn't had clue what the movie was about as his brain was corrupted by thoughts surrounding you. Only when a sex scene on screen caused you to shift ever so slightly in your position did his day dreams falter. Whatever the people were doing before, right now he had trapped her in between him and the wall. His hand was around her throat while his knee gave her some sort of relieve and whispering dirty things into her ear.

"Thinking about me doing that to you princess?" he asked you sweetly, pulling your attention from the suddenly very interesting bottle cap. Kirishima's lust got the best of him, he couldn't hold back anymore. He had to have you in every way possible and as much as he wanted to wait, to get you used to everything, introduce you to the situation you still didn't knew you were in- he couldn't. "Hm?" you probably misheard him, you weren't really paying attention to be fair.

"I asked you," he grabbed your chin with his hand, thumb on your chin while making you look into his eyes. You hadn't noticed but his whole demeanor changed. His bright eyes now as dark as red wine, catching every movement of your muscles, his body tense, appearing like a predator ready to jump on its prey.

"If you think about me touching you?" Kirishima finished, knowing very well that you did. He almost fucked up a job because the sight of you touching yourself moaning out his name barely left him any piece of sanity. You had read a story about him, a very dirty one as well and fuck how wet you were, so needy and helpless, mind filled with him and him alone.

He couldn't bare the thought of you having any secrets, something he didn't know. Kirishima had to know everything, what you eat, your favorite drink, what type of gifts you appreciate, your favorite type of book genre, movie genre, what TV you liked to watch. Where you more of a dog or a cat person? Or both, maybe neither? What made you happy, what made you sad, how can he lift up your mood? It wasn't hard to get access to your laptop. Okay, well it was, but he had watched a friend hack into someone's stuff before, for another mission and remembered how to do it. Just in case. And oh my, you were such a good girl for him. Saved all of your passwords, your history, your Netflix, youtube, tumblr. Everything laid out for him, because you wanted him to find it, find out everything he wanted. He loved you more and more every second.

You were beneath him within seconds, his large frame towering over yours and trapping you. His warm breath was fanning over your face, eyes flickering between yours and your lips while a few strands of loose red hair fell into his face.

"Eiji-" as you attempted to sit up again he pressed your upper body down without any effort using his hand, feeling your heartbeat quicken. His sweatpants appeared to be much tighter all of the sudden and you couldn't help but peak down slightly, the sight of his dick print, revealing his impressively thick girth, the length hidden through the shirt he was wearing.

"My eyes are up here," he chuckled, face getting even closer. "Eijirou, I don't think we should do anything indiscreet," you told him, pushing yourself forward by your feet in a feeble attempt to escape. Only to have him flip you over on your stomach, one hand wrapped around your wrists and holding them above your head.

„Don’t fight it," he whispered in your ear, grinding down on your ass, enough to send pleasure through your whole body, goose bumps appearing on your skin. "We should-" you tried to form a complete sentence, but his lips on your neck were thwarting your plan, especially after they found your sweet spot.

"Hm?" he asked, peppering more kisses along your delicate skin, your senses heightening when his sharp teeth were dragged along it. His soft lips curled up into a small smirk as another moan hit his ears, before his teeth sunk into your neck. The scream escaping your lips was a something in-between pain and pleasure. And without a thought you had pushed your ass into him, your throbbing cunt begging for attention. Shame clouded your head as you came to realize how turned on you were by the currently obscure scene you had found yourself in.

"Do you want me to stop?" his tone let you know that there was only one right answer, his other hand slipping underneath you to tease you. The tip of his finger ghosted over your clit, earning a whine from your side. As you tried to push yourself down to create some sort of friction he pulled away, clicking his tongue.

"I asked you a question Y/N,“ his husky voice reminded you, kissing the fresh bite mark and caressing it with his sharp tongue. "No," you breathed, the lust your body felt in every inch betraying your mind, which was barely functioning at this point.

"Tell me you want me and I'll put the world to your feet," he meant it, all he needed to hear was that you wanted him, he needed, craved, starved for your acceptance of him as the man by your side. "Eijiro, I want you," you whispered, feeling hot and cold at the same time, craving his touch on you but also to disappear in between the cushions. Surely you had thought about this plenty of times but telling him, talking to him like that was new, unknown.

"Come on princess, don’t tease daddy and tell me what you want," he groaned into your ear, nibbling at its lobe. Rough hand groped your ass, kneading it, fingertips gliding across the swell, down between your legs, going all the way up only to skip the spot you needed him at the most. "I want you, please," he had heard you just fine the first time but he couldn't get enough of it, needed more.

"You can do better," he was more of a pleaser but now that he had you, he had to take his time with you, had to have you to submit to him. "Please Daddy, I need you, I want you," the pitiful tone of your voice surprised you, but the reaction of his body let you know just how much he liked it. It was impossible to miss the twitch of his length against you or feel his hands tightening, the sound of a heavy breath escaping his lungs.

Once again you found yourself facing him, being pulled onto his lap, on hand on your hips and the other one caressing your face. The grip on your chin wasn't harsh, just strong enough to keep you in place. His soft thumb stroked over your bottom lip, pupils dilated as he watched it bounce back in place and glistering from your saliva.

If he wasn't in love with you already he definitely would be by now. He didn't give you the chance to say another word as his lips came crushing into yours, molding together perfectly. It felt electrifying and intense, a kiss filled with passion and hunger. Wandering hands grabbed your ass and as a soft moan graced his ears he slipped his tongue into your mouth, tips colliding and swirling around one another. Kirishima pulled you closer to him as your hand went into his hair, the other one tugging on his shirt.

"So eager," he whispered against your lips, happy to comply to your wishes and pulling off his shirt in one swift motion, your eyes not knowing where to look at first. Your attention was quickly occupied again by his hand slipping under your shirt, going along your side, up to your chest while he once again interlocked your lips.

The moans slipping into his mouth as his thumb circled over your nipple were fuel on fire and as much as he enjoyed taking his time with you, he will have all the time in the world with you from now on. The big man had waited so ling for this moment, had dreamed about this situation, spend so many hours thinking about it during the day. His mind was filled with you as was his heart, how you laugh, how you talk, how you taste. Oh, he had to know how you taste and he knew if he waited one too many seconds he might destroy you with the lust inside of him.

Strong arms secured you as he stood up, walking over to his dinning table and sitting you down on it. „It would only be fair for you to get undressed too,“ Kirishima mumbled against your lips, hands already at the hem of it and pulling it up. A few curses fell from his lips as he saw that you weren’t wearing a bra under the shirt. Pushing you down gentle his lips landed on your neck again, kissing the slightly swollen mark. He couldn’t help it, the view was so hot, he had to give you another one. You’re his, only his, nobody will take you away now. Nobody can. And even if they dared to try he will rip them apart.

As the red haired man continues to work his way down, he stopped at your naked chest. While giving one nipple bites, kisses and soft flicks of his tongue, the other one got attention through his hands, pinching and circling them. The movements had you gasping for ear, your legs wrapping around him and pulling him into you.

„Daddy I need more,“ you whimpered, making him kiss the valley between your breasts, down your stomach, before he stopped above the only fabric left on you. Your underwear was discarded in a second, the sound of fabric ripping made you look at him. His ruby red eyes were fixated on your glistering cunt, licking his lips as the thought of your pussy on his tastebuds.

Taking a seat in front of you it looked like you were the dessert he had been craving for years, never finding the right one. But now here he was, ready to devour you and hear you moans, have you gush over him. „Legs over my shoulders,“ he tapped them, grabbing the soft flesh of your thighs as you obeyed his order. „Good girl,“ Eijiro groaned, kissing the spots close to your core before his lips finally met your clit.

The cunnilingus he gave you made you feel like you were send to heaven and back. His sharp tongue knew exactly what to do, knew where to be at the right time. Nails dug into your skin and you were sure by the end of it Kirishima’s marks would be prominent for the next week. The small amount of pain intensified your pleasure and the first orgasm crashed down on you faster than ever. You were hoping for him to give you a small break, your whole body on fire but he was far from being done.

Wrapping his lips around your sensitive spot he sucked slightly, pulling a sinful moan from the back of your throat which caused his rock hard dick to twitch in his grey sweatpants. Not yet, he thought, slipping a long, thick finger inside you, while lapping at your clit.

You didn’t expect to feel so filled by just two of his finger inside you. But it came to no surprise as just the palm of his hand is as big as your whole, two fingers as thick as four of yours. Two minutes, that’s how much it took to make you cum for the first time, moaning out his new nickname and pulling on his hair. Kirishima didn’t give you time to come, a break was the last he would think of in this moment. Before you knew it another wave of pleasure crashed down upon you, making your legs clamp down. Well, you tried, but he didn’t really had to try to keep them apart.

„Does that feel good? You like that?“ the question was rhetorical, your body had answered it long ago. Your fourth orgasm was about to hit anytime now as his mouth was glistering from your wetness, licking it all up. He wouldn’t really call it mocking, but it amused and aroused him at the time seeing you so fucked, not able to form a full sentence, yet alone answering his question.

And there it was. The knot in your stomach released itself, eyes rolling in the back of your head, a single tear sliding down the side of your face. Slurred words, a mixture of curse words, affection and his name made him feel as powerful as ever. He did this, only with his fingers and tongue.

„Tsk, would you look at that princess, you made a mess,“ was the first thing you heard after you came down from your high, the white spots slowly disappearing. With a heavy breath you looked down, watching as his cleaned his lower lip with his thumb before licking your juice off of it. Eijiro was right: he was wet, drenched even. Your lover made you squirt and the look of ecstasis written across his face was something you could never forget. „I’m sorry-,“ before you could say another word he pulled you up to him with his hand around your neck, locking your lips and pulling your lower body closer to him, allowing his now freed dick to slip in between your folds. Dragging it slowly up and down made you jolt and whine against his lips, trying to pull away as electric like shocks went through your veins, the pleasure overwhelming.

„That was the hottest thing I have seen. If I wasn’t this horny for you I would make you squirt again,“ he told you, chuckling slightly when he saw your eyes widening at the sight of his boner.

You knew he was big, at least nine inches, but it was his thickness that had you speechless. Without the foreplay there was no way he would fit inside of you and even now you knew he had to be slow at first or else you might pass out.

„Don’t worry, I will be gentle… At first,“ a small smirk graced his face, his tip now at your entrance. Laying down his soft sweatpants before laying you down he made sure you were laying comfortably. Thighs against his stomach, knees on his shoulders with his body towering over yours, almost touching but leaving enough space for Kirishima to look at him slowly slipping inside of you.

Drawing small circles on your thigh and clit helped soothing you as he went in inch by inch. He was taken by surprise when you pushed yourself onto him, taking in the last couple of inches at once. „So you want it that way huh? All you had to do was ask,“ with that he was lost in his own word.

His thrusts weren’t fast at first, they were hard, hitting your g-spot over and over and over again. Eijiro either went with a rhythm of song stuck in his head or did whatever felt right, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that you didn’t want him to stop. As quick as you put your legs down to lessen the immense pleasure, as quick he had both of your ankles in his hand, putting them over his right shoulder. Thick fingers caressing the soft flesh of your neck, feeling your pulse against the tip of his fingers, before wrapping around your throat completely. With the current position your pussy was even tighter, giving him the opportunity to hit deeper than before. Whenever he was balls deep inside of you wet slapping sounds filled the room, just like a mix of the moans of the two of you. Your scents mixed together, his room spray not standing a chance, even though your favorite smell hit your nose once in a while. What a funny coincidence, you thought later on.

„M about to cum,“ you slurred, a particular hard thrust sending you over the edge yet again, your throbbing cunt adding to his lust. „Who do you belong to? Who’s your daddy?“ He grunted, as his hips were snapping again and again. Your neck was released for a short moment to wipe away the few tears at the corner of your eye that just spilled over the edge.

„You, ah, you Eijiro,“ the o was quickly blending with yet another moan. If you didn’t know any better you would think he was a son of Eros. He definitely looked like a half god the way he was pounding into you, body glistering from the film of sweat and red strands of hair framing his face perfectly.

„That’s right, you’re mine. Only I can fuck you this good, only I can love you, only I can touch you,“ he said through gritted teeth, his possessiveness coming through. Kirishima could feel himself getting closer and closer to his own orgasm, dick twitching and hips titubating as your walls tightened around him.

„Mh, my good girl, just a little more, you can take it,“ you shook your head, feeling slightly dizzy and have one thought in your head: his name. There wasn’t even energy left in you to close your mouth properly. Something he saw as an invitation, his middle and ring finger slipping inside, your moans sending soft vibrations through them straight to his still hard length buried inside your cunt.

So many possibilities for him to cum on. You would look so pretty with his cum on your stomach, or when it drips from your face onto your chest. Your ass would look delicious that way too. One day he will find out what his favorite view is, but the first has to be special. He had to fill you up, mark your insides, had to make you his out and out.

„Let go, it’s okay. Daddy got you,“ finally. Your nails dug into his skin, vision blurry as your body started shaking from the last wave of pleasure for the night. He let go himself at the same time, pumping you full with his cum, a few lazy strokes following before he halted, his cock still inside you. Deep, shaky breath helped him come down from his dream like orgasm. Your pussy was magic, nobody could convince him otherwise. Maybe this won’t be your last time for tonight, maybe he will have you again once you laid down in bed. For now all he wanted to do was to hold you close, care for you and make you feel his love for you.

Pulling you into his strong arms he pulled out a bottle of water, taking a few sips himself before slowly letting the cool liquid hit your mouth and throat. Soft words of affirmation were whispered in your ear while he petted your head, massaging your scalp softly and kissing your forehead.

„You did so well for me baby,“ Kirishima mumbled against your lips, making sure you took another sip of water. You were still in bliss when he carried you to the bathroom, filling up the bathtub and sitting down with you between his thick thighs. While he was gently cleaning you realization hit him: Finally, after all this time you were with him. This wasn’t another dream. This was reality.

It broke his heart to see you cry the next morning when all the doors were locked. You told him you loved him too and you never would want to leave his side under no circumstances. He believed you, you would never lie to him. But the outside was too big, too scary for you. The intruder could still be after you and try to take you away from him. Kirishima knew you will forgive him eventually, after all he loves you and that should be enough for you. He is enough for you. You will understand eventually. He couldn’t risk loosing you again.

459 notes · View notes

burnedbyshoto · 3 years

Text

go the distance

(will you) go the distance

— You’re perfectly content in life except for the fact that you are not dating Deku. When his best friend won’t help you out, you turn to the dark side to get what you want.

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pairing: pro hero!midoriya izuku x bad villain!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, manga spoilers, pro hero!au, villain!reader, ofa usage for sex lol, size difference, manhandling, public sex, slight degradation and praise, deku eats his cum outta ya pussy, big dick deku, corruption but make it opposite, deku is a pervert change my mind

word count: 12,715

a/n: well, yall already knew I wanted to make this fic a reality, so here it is for bnharems villain collab!! check out all the already amazing stories if you haven’t already. thank you to kara, sky, and jo for reading this for me because lmao im ass rn. I’m gonna go to bed because I partied a bit too hard last night.

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your quirk: distortion – can make afflicted persons vision shift 6 cm to the left or right at the cost of having their own vision shift the same way

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“Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcasted rumors of a villain running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures, and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning.

“Road maintenance endeavors to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

“Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

“Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved, but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city, please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary. One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.”

The female reporter closes her eyes, despite still being on the air, her eyebrows furrowed as she exasperatedly sighs.

“Was that good enough, Mirage?”

You look at her with a pout, your eyes then clenching shut as your lips move with unsaid words as you motion for the cameras to stop rolling. You tilt your head right and left, muttering a bit.

“Did that seem better to you this time? I don’t know, I don’t think it was scary enough...”

You open your eyes to see the exasperated reporter looking at you as if she personally sought to end you right where you were sitting.

“You are the worst villain I’ve ever encountered,” she deadpans, and you laugh in agreement.

You weren’t really a villain.

If you must put a label on what you were, you would say that you were the best PR head any hero agency could ask for. You were, after all, the top student graduate from UA’s Business Course and had been ushered into a condensed agency the moment you were finished taking your graduation pictures.

And well, if you are actually curious about the… villainy, you would like to uphold and continue to stress that you weren’t a villain! You were just a public nuisance – like those stupid YouTubers – with the ability to garner Pro Heroes’ attention! People had no reason to scoff at what you did on the daily.

You took both of these jobs very seriously!

It was like being straight out of a comic for you!

A simple – hopefully should the heroes you’re in charge of not be stupid – nine to five job by day, and a badass, crime-committing, sexy as shit villain by night! How could anyone ever hate you for your lifestyle! How could anyone ever hate you?!

But we are all noisy people, and everyone wondered just why you became a villain because you had a beautifully stable job with an impressive salary! Why would such an amazing woman such as yourself dabble in the evilness of humanity?

Well, you did have an answer for the public.

“Why do you engage in evil, villainous schemes?” the reporter deadpans, absolutely and utterly not being paid enough to humor you in this forced interview.

The public loved drama, pizazz, a little showmanship even from what they deemed humanities worst! So, you told the world why you chose to be evil instead of good:

“Because I want to be!” you grin, flashing a pose as you make your away from the interviewer you had very much illegally forced to interview you. “And because a hero killed my cat!’

Of course, that was a lie! Why would you ever hand over the real reason as to why you decided to become a villain! You’d be laughed right out of Japan, possibly be murdered by a horde of fangirls!

For you see, there was one reason and one reason alone as to why you decided to take your place within the villainy hall of fame. Why you chose to do more in your day outside of your already demanding job.

And that one reason was: Pro Hero Deku, civilian name Midoriya Izuku.

Now, trying not to come off as some creepy, weirdo, stalker fangirl, you could fully admit that you were in love with the stupidly large hunk of a man that debuted as an official pro a year before you graduated from high school.

You remember how the world was finally recovering from the year-long nightmare that had ensued. To be honest, you were stupidly surprised you had even managed to graduate, given that most of schooling had become somewhat of a joke.

FIVE YEARS AGO, MARCH, 2XXX:

It had been in the evening, the clear blue sky becoming ruby red and blood orange as you made your way out of campus. The air somehow smelled of sweet hay and gasoline, but you didn’t mind. There was hardly anyone out at this time, most students had made their way home already, and the only sounds were the moving cars of businessmen just trying to get back home.

There really wasn’t any reason to suspect anything to go wrong, this was a simple daily walk back home after school that wasn’t like any other. But then there had been a loud pop, an ever louder screech, and finally, you managed to whip your head in time to see a car tumbling through the air straight at you.

There was hardly any time to think, even less to react, and the only thing you knew was that you were not going to survive.

You braced yourself, eyes clenching and body curling, your mind screaming because this was not going to be the way things ended. But before it could happen, before the car could come down upon you and squish you like a bug under a shoe, something picked you up and you were weightless.

Waiting for an impact that never came, the tears that were endlessly streaming down your face were suddenly stopped by rough, warm fingers smoothly wiping them away.

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re safe now!” a voice says softly to you, endearingly warm and comforting. “I’m here, don’t worry.”

“Am I… did I die?” you whisper, unsure if you even want the answer, your eyes remaining closed because you refused to open them up to some angel that could confirm your death. “God, what an embarrassing way to die!”

“Oh – um, no! You’re not dead! I promise!” the voice laughs brightly, just softly enough that you believe him and not be entirely horrified by the amused reaction. Your eyes crack open slowly, just barely peering back into the world, still half praying you weren’t dead. But all you saw was green.

Green eyes, green hair, green clothes.

You blink, once, twice, realizing only then you were staring into the eyes of a boy about your age.

He had curly hair, freckles littering his face, and eyes that easily pierced through your very soul.

Without meaning to, your breath stopped, frozen in your lungs as you were captivated by a handsome man with a curving, beautiful smile.

“See, I told you it was okay!” he teased you, head cocking to the side as he grinned largely.

The action itself seemed to strangle the strangest noise out of your mouth as you realized suddenly and immediately that your face was burning and all you could think was:

A cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, acuteherorescuedme!

“Sorry about that scare! I would’ve caught that car sooner, but I wasn’t paying attention to who was around!” the green boy apologized, bowing deeply in front of you in his apology. “There’s a commotion just up ahead, so I recommend you take the next road over.”

You nod numbly, unable to conjure even the slightest hint of your voice again as he stood up to his full length. He was average in height it seemed, taller than you, but still not towering. The hero looked behind his shoulder, those big green eyes focusing onto the distance, onto something you couldn’t even begin to imagine – or see, really. He blinked and turned back to you, smile gone but the gentle aura to him remained, but now his face, his mouth, was underlined with a sense of urgency and engagement to whatever sent a vehicle tumbling your way.

“Which train do you take home?” he asked, eyebrows relaxing from his stern position, as his smile picked up again. “I’ll take you closer to your station!”

“B train,” you manage to wheeze out – unable to be the reason why he was held up but also confused as to just what he could do to get you closer to the station that was at least a mile away from here.

“Perfect! I know where that is!” he laughs for just a moment, and before you could even ask if this was going to be some escorted thing – because you definitely did not need it – his arms were fastly secured around you, and suddenly you were weightless.

A cold wind rushed against your face, nipping at your nose, cheeks, and ears, sending your hair flying around – into your mouth! Oh, you were screaming! You were soaring through the skyline, being held by some hero you couldn’t name, and you were screeching at the top of your lungs.

Making the mistake of looking down, your arms were suddenly around his shoulders, your voice growing even sharper and louder as you squeezed against his body and refused to let go. His hands, despite the gloves, were warm on your back, and his soft chuckle warming you from nose to toes as he secured his grip on you.

“I got you,” he spoke, “I won’t let you go, I promise.”

Those words don’t exactly ease you, but there’s a comfort to the genuinity to his words. You nod nonetheless, your face buried deep into his neck. The cold wind continues to whip around you, the only thing sounding in your ears is the cruel whipping wind and quiet city below.

“I’m landing now,” he informed you, body shifting in the wind, and reflexively, you clung even tighter to him, expecting the similar stomach dropping motion of a roller coaster going straight down. “You’re – ack – c-choking me!”

The knowledge of that, hearing the strain and entirely unhidden sound of him choking against the current chokehold you had on him, you released him entirely with a shriek of your own. Was it a smart move? No, definitely not because you were how many hundreds – if not thousands – of feet in the air with a quirk that could not, and would not save you.

“It’s okay! I’m fine!” he quickly said, his arms shifting around your waist as you felt your body weight drop just the smallest bit. To which your focus landed to the concrete floor so far down, and you began screaming again. He panicked just a bit too. “Y-You’re okay too! We’re landing! We’re landing!”

Soon, but not soon enough, the concrete floor came underneath your feet, and you practically felt your knees buckle underneath you. The train station behind you was practically invisible, and you felt the floor come in contact with your knees, and you collapsed onto your hands and knees. You could feel the tears streaming down your face as you wheezed and panted, unable to move from your position.

“Hey, look, we made it!” he laughed gently, probably being said in hopes that you would feel better. (It did make you feel slightly better, his laugh was light and pretty to listen to.) You could feel him approaching you, iron covered red shoes appearing before your vision. Looking up, you saw that the young hero was crouching, his face holding a wobbly smile that was earnest, worried, and full of unspoken hope. “I do need to get back, but before I do, are you good enough to be left alone?”

You blinked your soaked eyelashes at him, still largely unable to say anything at the cute hero in front of you who had a few scratches on his cheek, right below his freckles.

“Y-Yeah, um,” you say, your tongue cotten and lead in your dry mouth. “I-I’ll be fine, I think.”

The green eyed hero nods, offering you a hand and assisting you to your trembling legs, “That’s good to hear!” he chirped, his wobbly smile becoming a grand, bright grin. “You were really brave! I was impressed!”

Now, you were an idiot at times, but even you could spot a stupid lie. Still, hearing it said with such honesty, as if this hero who was no taller than five foot eight truly believed it, made something bubble in your chest, and soon you found yourself laughing.

“No need to lie to me, h-hero,” you manage to speak between stammering breaths, “thank you for saving me, though. I appreciate it.”

You grin crookedly at him, and to your utter delight, he reciprocates it.

“It’s the least I can do. I’d offer to take you home but… I’m not quite finished yet,” he says, and you can only nod, the conversation obviously reaching its last strides. You watch as he floats up, his eyes looking at you, but somehow focused how many miles away from where he had brought you from. “Stay safe?”

“I’ll try my best,” you agree to his question, hands clasping before your lap. “Finish the job quick, hero?”

He grins, “I’ll try my best.”

You feel a breathless sort of laugh escape you as you watch him beginning to shoot back up, but a sort of horror shoots through you as you rush forward, running right after him, hands cupping around your mouth as you scream:

“What’s your name?!”

The blur of green in the air freezes, and you stop running as you see green eyes and freckles focusing back onto you.

“Deku! My hero name is Deku!”

You stop at the curb of the street, eyes focused on the sky as the green eyed hero named Deku grins one last time before shooting off at a speed probably much faster than when he held onto you. The wind blows around you, and you can only feel the heat sitting on your cheeks and the way you’re smiling as you stare after his figure that's long, long gone.

“Deku...” you whisper to yourself, ignorant to the world of commuters beginning to appear at the station. “Thank you.”

And thus came the very apparent and obvious day in which you fell head over heels for Pro Hero Deku.

Now some people called you a stupid fangirl, obsessive stalker, and sometimes, yeah, you were obsessive and weird about your slight infatuation with a stranger. It was strange, you knew that! But you also knew that you had practically no chances of ever being able to woe the man behind the image of Deku because Midoriya Izuku practically existed as Deku 24/7.

After you graduated from high school, you were put into the same agency that was currently holding Deku. Without tooting your own rom-com obsessed horn too much, you fully expected to walk in and be handed Deku’s file as his PR manager and be able to thank him for not only saving you all that time ago, but also eventually sweep him off his feet.

But your reputation preceded you well, probably too well, because the first day you entered the office and was handed your list of three clients to work with, neither one was for Deku. Being a PR manager for heroes was hard, a job that practically held no set hours because, unlike your typical celebrities, heroes had no type of privacy or protection. They were constantly under the spotlight, being viewed by adoring fans and scornful critics. Your job served as the first line of defense for heroes against the public, and there were some heroes that were quite hilariously easy to work for because they were genuinely good.

The older PR managers typically held the quieter, easy tempered, or less combat heavy heroes. These heroes typically never had a bad thing said about them, their job was a glorified PA job but even less because there was no expected demands from the heroes they had to take in. Unless, of course, a hero wanted to do some sort of public event they hadn’t considered.

But there were the louder, quick to temper, or the heavy combat heroes that while made you an insane amount of money, also brought you a near 120 hour work week because there was so much to do, so much to consider, so much to keep your eyes on. There was the constant slander, the people who hated the louder, quick to temper heroes because they didn’t like their attitude, completely disregarding that they had been unsafe and a liability the entire time the hero was dealing with them. The talk shows that took months to convince to allow for an interview because they heard false rumors, and so you have to practically wrestle a boa constrictor to get a measly five minute interview done. And then the combat-heavy heroes… no one would ever shut up about building damages and how this hero broke his nose while he was stealing a store!

Not to mention having to have every single piece of social media on your phone, set to notify you whenever your clients names were brought up so that you could look at it. You’ve seen more than enough lewd drawings of your clients to last you a lifetime, enough fanfiction, and fan edits that left you with blazing cheeks and the need to never look at your client ever again. But mostly you checked each and every update because you were their first and only line of legal defense on these sorts of things.

You’ve taken down leaked nudes, fake news, and qualmed rumors and speculations.

It was hard.

So when you were shown to your desk on your first day and three files were handed to you, you were shocked to see the hero names you would be working with.

Dynamight

Phantom Thief

Shouto

Somehow, without having yet to speak with a single one of your now current clients, you knew that you were going to have your work cut out for you.

“Good luck newbie!” the woman who gave you the initial tour chirped, clapping you on the back. “You got this!”

Good lord.

Without much to do other than reading through the three’s files, you realized that you already knew a bunch about two of three of your clients. DynaMight and Shouto were two heroes that you knew teamed up with and hung out with Deku a lot, both on-field and off-field if any of the out of costume pictures said anything. Because of their connection with Deku, you had at one point learned a bit about them.

You knew that Shouto was a crowd favorite. He was tall and sweet and a complete airhead at the best moments despite him being smart. Controversy still surrounded his character, despite all the good he did, because of the past history that was brought out about his father Endeavor and his brother Dabi. The country couldn’t figure out where they stood in terms of that reveal. Endeavor did a lot before the reveal, and continued to rise up to everything in his path despite the skeletons in his closet being thrown out for the world to see. They neither forgave him, nor hated him, they only watched and waited. Then Dabi, of course, was seen as a could-have-been version of Shouto, and many tried to ask if he was really a hero and not actually siding with the League. After all, why on Earth would he be defensive of his father too?

The public had an unmoving image of Shouto based on anything but who he was as an individual, and you decided immediately that it would be your job to fix that. He was also, after all, a dear friend of Deku, so you’d do anything.

Phantom Thief was your easiest of the three clients. A relatively well mannered man who was kind and a bit weird in a fun way. He had a great sense of self and was a reliable person on the field. He made a great hero, but you could see the way his spirit blazed with an unspoken rivalry between him and the other two of your clients. Well, it seemed like he was the best until his former self appointed rivals came into the picture, but that was hardly ever, and according to Shouto, he was way worse back in their first year.

The greatest scandal he’s had so far in your three years of working at their agency was the one time he was lied to about a quirk and accidentally copied a woman's quirk that gave her the ability to change her cup size. Safe to say that Phantom Thief accidentally broke a few buttons on his shirt and was unable to stop civilians from snapping pictures.

But of course, the one that had you practically crying yourself to sleep nightly for more than one reason was Dynamight.

You’d known about him the moment you looked up Deku on your phone.

They were practically a hero duo in everything but name. They were always seen doing the same things together, whether that be on patrol together or maybe getting dinner, most of their top recorded fights were done with each other by their sides. You had also learned that they were childhood friends, and you practically vibrated at the thought that even though Deku was not your client, the chances of meeting him were still astronomically high.

There was no way you wouldn’t not meet Deku!

But you were wrong, so very, very wrong.

Turns out the hero duo in everything but name meant that Dynamight refused to let Deku be anywhere near him in the agency – the very small amount of time they spent in here. The few times they were in the same room, Dynamight absolutely refused to be interrupted because that was their paperwork hour. You had only ever been blessed with seeing green curls turning the corner as Dynamight gripped your forearm, refusing to let you follow.

“Like hell I’ll let you distract the shitnerd,” he stated simply, his red eyes narrowed as he stared down his nose at you. You opened your mouth, ready to defend your not so innocent intentions. “I’m not stupid, so don’t pretend like you won’t try anything.”

Your jaw snapped shut.

Safe to say that you couldn’t do anything about Deku so long as Dynamight was around.

But Dynamight as a client was exhausting to put it kindly.

There were so many opinions and thoughts and issues and praises coming from everywhere. Hell, even the fucking Americans and westerners had caught wind of the Wonder Duo at one point and while you were well knowledgable on their opinions on Deku, the ones on Dynamight were the ones that you had to focus on now.

People still called him a villain, so many unhappy with the fact that he still screamed and cursed and threatened. There were many conspiracy theories that he was working with the long dead League of Villains. They turned their nose up at the fact that he was childhood friends with Deku, claiming that no way an asshole like him could have ever been friends with him. And of course the bullying revelation that had come out shortly after your debut.

That had been a trip, one that had you even shocked as Dynamight approached the table in front of the media, his body calm and composed. You had watched as he simply said he owed nothing to the media, that he had already done all that he could to deserve his atonement and deserve Deku’s forgiveness. He had spoken clearly, concisely that it wasn’t any of their damn business as to what he did, and if he apologized to them, the unaffected, the ones that had nothing to do with his early years of bullying Deku, of his previous weakness and insecurity, it would be a waste of his breath.

It isn’t to them he should ever be apologizing to anyways.

You had watched as he stood up, face calm, and hands shoved into his pockets as he stood and walked away despite the screaming reporters. You had wanted to stay longer, have your own hand in damage control, but a swoop of green came in and Deku was at the microphone eyebrows furrowed as he pointed a finger at them all and said that his past with Kacchan was between him and Kacchan only, and his decision to forgive Kacchan were his and only his.

You didn’t hear the rest, didn’t even get the option to hear the way the hero you loved defended the hero you worked for – his childhood friend.

No.

Dynamight had grabbed your elbow and dragged you out of the room with him, the metal doors clanging closed the moment fierce green eyes met yours.

You watched in the company car as Dynamight looked outside the window, one elbow on the doorframe holding his chin; his gaze focused sharply on nothing but the passing sidewalk. Had it not been for the way the hand on top of his lap trembled, you would have thought he was perfectly okay.

Neither one of you talked about that again.

But just because you didn’t talk about it again, didn’t mean the world was the same. People claimed he brainwashed Deku, others demanded that Deku beat the shit out of Dynamight. You knew that Dynamight would want nothing to do with this, but you would stay in the office (an almost useless, empty office as most PR managers did their business at home) for hours long after you were supposed to be gone, practically arguing with someone who only existed behind a screen and didn’t even care that much – but you couldn’t stop.

Seeing Dynamight’s shaking hand had really done a number on you.

“The hell are you still doing here, eyelashes,” Dynamite asked from the dark entrance of the floor. “Go home already, don’t waste your time.”

You had startled at the initial intrusion, but you immediately relaxed seeing the smudged paint around red eyes and blond hair. You barely kept your gaze on him before turning back to your computer and continuing your argument.

“I’m not wasting my time, I’m doing my job,” you remark, eyes squinting at your keyboard because your vision is definitely blurry. “I’ll be heading out soon anyways.”

“God you’re fucking annoying and stubborn!” Dynamight barked, the heel of his hand slamming into his forehead. “This is exactly why I won’t introduce you to the fucking nerd!”

“What?!” you shriek, suddenly looking at your client as if he had personally attacked you – and in a way he did. “What do you mean you won’t introduce me to Deku because of that?! I’ve already met Red Riot, Chargebolt, Cellophane, and Pinky through you!”

“Yeah, because they’re not stubborn idiots too!” Dynamight accuses, jamming a gloved finger at you as he begins stomping your way. You startle, your chair shooting backward as the explosion hero makes his way towards you at alarming speed.

“What are you—?!” you shriek, hands flailing about as he grabs you by the collar of your distressed shirt.

Dynamight lifts you up to your feet as if you were a sack of flour and you grasp onto his forearm.

“I might tell you that you’re the most annoying and stubborn bitch in the world, but you’re not worse than fucking Deku,” Dynamight sneers, his red eyes narrowed and stern. “I’m not going to let you meet him until you learn how to give or you’ll hurt him, and I’m not going to be part of any reason as to why he gets hurt again.”

Your jaw dropped, clearly offended, but you closed it just as fast; the weight of his words made you a bit sad, even for just a bit.

“You’re kinda cute when you care for Deku, you sure I’m his biggest fan?” you tease, grinning at the hero to which he rolls his eyes.

“Shut the hell up and go home already; it’s annoying seeing you fight a losing battle that’s none of your damn business,” Dynamight simply said, putting you back onto your feet and blocking out your desk.

“I’ll go home on the condition that for my birthday you at least consider introducing us!” you say, unwilling to move from your spot. “I’ve been working for you for three years! You’ve kept me away for three years!”

Dynamight’s stare didn’t even shift the slightest millimeter, his red eyes unamused as you groaned in grief and annoyance.

“I’m stubborn? Have you met yourself?!” you grumble snatching your jacket and purse from the hook on your cubicle and shoving them on. “My names God of Explosion Murder: Dynamight and I am Stubborn™ but will never admit it.”

You continued mocking your long time client and most definitely friend if you dared to say so, and dragged the heel of your foot all the way to the elevator to which you were joined by Dynamight. The trip down the elevator is silent, and you keep your gaze locked on the closed doors, unwilling to even look at the hero next to you.

Soon enough, the elevator reached the ground floor, and you got ready to walk out.

“I’ll consider it,” Dynamight said as the elevator doors opened. “Also, fucking stop calling me Dynamight, Bakugou’s fine.”

He walked off the elevator with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants.

“Thank you, Bakugou!” you shriek, your lungs failing you at the thought of finally being introduced to Deku! You hadn’t moved from your spot from the elevator, your chest hammering with the thought of getting to meet Deku.

“Don’t get your hopes up, you’re still irritatingly stubborn,” Bakugou merely calls over his shoulder before lifting his hand in a halfhearted wave before stepping out of the glass door.

That brought you back to reality just a bit and you scowled, knowing you would have to go beyond and above to prove that.

But you see, there were many reasons to cry about having Bakugou as your client. Besides the stinkhole of his previous bullying, people just were not understanding his typically prickly exterior. You had to go head to head with reputation tarnished, had to slap fangirls away who demanded that Bakugou degrade them where they stood. It was hard to not be stubborn as not only his PR manager but his friend, and in less than a month, still plenty of time before your birthday, you had already grown irritated of the meeting-Deku-card he waved over your head.

“Mei, if I have to go any longer than this, I will die and hope I am reborn as Deku’s new guardian angel,” you pouted, chin pressed against a cold metal tabletop. Your hands being used as glove models for one of your best friends Hatsume Mei. “It’s first of all impossible getting anywhere near him with his guard dog Bakugou literally stopping me whenever I’m within a ten foot radius! And then I’m not even sure what will happen when we do meet again! Would I even be able to talk to him?!”

“Why wouldn’t you? You talk to all my babies with me! There’s practically nothing you can’t do,” Mei laughs, smacking you against your back before returning her intense gaze back to the gloves. “Deku’s uh… I actually can’t remember him but I’m sure he’s a great conversationalist! I think he helped me with the Sports Festival my first year.”

“That was Iida,” you laugh, wiggling your fingers as Mei demanded. “You’re so bad with names and faces, I’m impressed you know mine.”

“You saved my baby, of course I remember you,” Mei turned her grin towards you, “but come on, why can’t you get with him besides this Bakugou guy?”

“Well, he’s just like Bakugou! He’s practically married to his job! Their schedules basically match together perfectly! There’s literally only three hours a day while they’re on the job that they’re not together! And that’s when they patrol their own parts of town because there’s hardly any activity they don’t need to be attached by the neck.” You explain and rant, your cheeks puffing as you stand up and allow Mei to run further tests on the glove.

“Sounds like you gotta become a villain to woo this hero guy, huh,” Mei spoke, eyes focused on the glove as you pointed a finger at the far wall and watched as a beam exploded from the fingertip and pierced through the steel wall like butter. “Too bad you’re a goody two-shoes or else I could make you some serious villain gear and make you a fearsome villain to then prove that Hatusme Mei’s babies and creations are untouchable and the best in the world! Muah-ha-ha-ha!”

You know her words are more joking than serious, but that doesn’t stop your eyes from widening. Your body shifts over to where she was standing and you screech pointing at her and just narrowly missing setting off the laser again.

“THAT'S IT!”

“What’s it?” she asked, completely confused.

“You have to make me a villain!” you exclaim, rushing over to Mei, who is eagerly waiting for her babies returnal especially since it ran perfectly. “You have to make me near-invisible gear that can keep me going toe to toe with Deku until I can seduce him!”

“You want to turn evil?” Mei questions, finger pressing quizzically to her chin. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“I am definitely not villainous to pull that off, but like I pretend to be a villain so that he talks to me and we can like get to know each other!” you exclaim, you’re unable to keep from hopping up and down on your feet, your grin unfathomably bright. “It's practically a romcom in the making!”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Mei laughs, altering the band of fabric around your waist. “You do know heroes and villains hardly speak? It’s more like… ‘I’m more powerful,’ ‘No me!,’ ‘No, ME!’”

“Um, I’m pretty sure that’s not true, but whatever! I’ll figure out a way!” you continue on unaffected because this plan was genius! Especially if you had Mei in your corner?! Her recent development of not using such… steampunk designs made her creations elusive and dangerous to own. Hence why she was an extremely sought out manufacturer, by villains and heroes alike. “And if I can go toe to toe with Deku of all people, you’ll know that you and your babies are the undeniable best!”

“Hm, that is promising,” Mei agrees with a nod as she forces you around. “Is this Deku guy all that good?”

“He’s the one you made the iron soles for!” you chirp and watch as the recognition and challenge spark immediately in Mei’s yellow eyes.

“Oh,” Mei chuckles, turning away from you and looking at her pile of made babies. “This would be good.”

“So we have an agreement?” you grin excitedly.

“Give me a month, and we’ll have your debut!”

Fuck Bakugou for thinking you weren’t good enough!

You hadn’t expected the initial phases of villainy to be quite as hard as it was, if you were being honest. The late nights at Mei’s personal lab made sure to keep your plans a solid secret, but you had to prepare for the wild range of what Deku’s quirk entailed.

There was smoke, something you were already used to working in because of Bakugou and his quirk. You’ve navigated quite a bit in his smog, and as long as you knew where you were, you would be fine.

There was also that danger sense, which allowed him to know when things were coming – something that shouldn’t be too big an issue considering you weren’t actually attempting to extract danger onto him.

Blackwhip was a big issue. How far or how much could you do if he even grabbed a hold of you. With sleuthing and the help of Mei having files on everyone's quirks, you were able to find information that blackwhip was a creation made of energy. Meaning that Mei was now making some type of destructing material to lessen the energy of the quirk, allowing for you to escape should he attempt to capture you this way.

Float was stopped by having most of your fights occur within a confined area, which was needed for you anyways! You didn’t need to be caught by anyone else but him! You didn’t actually need to land in jail – you would prefer to not be handled by anyone but Deku, actually.

Then of course the stupid superstrength and superspeed, both of which you knew you could handle with your quirk. You’ve been head to head with people with quirks similar to that before, and you knew your quirk was tricky enough that you’d manage to slip right past his fingers just fine. After all, you knew full and well that the Deku who took down S class villains was worlds quicker than F class villains – aka you.

You would be fine.

But today was day one, first of how many days it would take to get Pro Hero Deku, aka Midoriya Izuku to fall in love with you.

You were dressed in a black and purple bodysuit that was definitely not inspired by Shego from Kim Possible’s costume. Your hair was dyed purple by a special spray Mei created that would be washed out by the end of the day, but wouldn’t ever give away that it was fake. You wore a mask over your eyes, and grinned seeing that you couldn’t see a fleck of color on your irises.

Perfect.

And with far too much confidence, nauseating excitement, and unjustified attitude, you marched down towards your first spot, ready and adopting the identity of who you were about to become.

Mirage.

It was time to act. Deku and Dynamight were on different patrol routes right now, and you sent your threat, readying for the moment for the man in green to come in with the desire to stop you. With the very real threat of stealing every puppy within the tristate area being broadcasted within the area unless and hero bests you, you waited for your savior to come and stop you.

“I am here to stop your villainous acts, you villain!” a voice shattered the silence just as it shattered your heart. You looked over your shoulder to see some hero you couldn’t name standing at the other stairwell entrance with his fists clenched and ready to fight.

You groaned, shoulders crumbling with your well hidden disappointment.

“I wasn’t looking for you!” you exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the flabbergasted hero who was just trying to figure out what was happening. “Where’s Deku?!”

“He’s – he’s not here yet,” he stammers, eyes wide. “It’s not his day anymore to patrol this area?”

“Aw fuck!” you complain, pouting at the realization that you had messed up. “Okay, I’ll be back later, please don’t come back. Bye!”

With a small wave, you easily stepped through the door to the stairwell next to you and left, your threat empty and the hero victorious despite not actually stopping you. And unfortunately, although you had wished and prayed even, this was not the last time a screw up like this would happen.

At the threat of destroying all the cats in the area, you had another hero show up, not Deku, and you groaned and left before they could even finish their call of stopping you.

You then threatened to poison the watering system, to which you found out that Deku was held up at another major villain threat in a different city. You groaned and stomped off after that.

Then there was the time you swore you would increase the overall temperature of the city per one degree celsius should your demands not be made. Shouto answered that one and you immediately walked away the moment you saw the familiar head of red and white coming your way.

Time and time again you kept being caught by heroes you could not care about, being confronted by no names and nobodies. It was tiring, and Mei was beginning to sigh just the smallest bit whenever you showed up to try yet again.

But you weren’t a quitter!

You would win!

This was your last attempt at getting Deku to notice you.

After threatening to wrap all the citizens in the area with a giant froot by the foot, you were almost sad to say that the heroes ignored your cry for chaos and no one had come to check on you.

You sat outside the building you used as your trap for Deku, pouting into a hot dog that the neighborhood's grandma gave you because you looked like you needed something to eat. It’s a good thing you weren’t actually a villain or else they’d be fucked, you bitterly thought as you took another bite of your food.

It had been a month of empty, no Deku appearances, and you were going to bite the bullet and pretend to be not stubborn just so stupid Bakugou of all people could introduce you.

You kicked your feet as you sat on the staircase, humming as you watched the empty streets bend with the wind. It was quiet, beautiful, peaceful.

“YOU!” a voice shrieked to your left, and you watched a pudgy, red nosed man racing over towards you, a flash drive clenched in his hands. “TAKE THIS! RUN! DON’T LET THE HEROES TAKE IT!”

You gawked at him, feeling the small plastic device being shoved into your hands as the man collapsed at your feet. You squeaked when you heard a voice yelling stop and you bounced to your feet, turned into the building and raced in.

Your breathing was erratic, heart in your throat as you raced up the stairwell, unable to begin to imagine what the hell the information on the flash drive held. You were practically hyperventilating as you reached the floor you had come to know extremely well, and you stood near the window with shaky hands and legs.

What did you take?!

“I’m going to need that back, I’m afraid,” a low smooth voice said from behind you, and you froze immediately. Old anxiety overcome by a new anxiety, one that made your stomach flip and blood burn.

Turning around, you felt awestruck to see the one man you’ve been waiting for… for fucking years now, really, to appear before you, finally be there. In the flesh, completely, entirely. Your jaw dropped, your gaze looking down from your clenched hand that held the USB to the way that Deku looked at you with warm eyes that were underlined with steel that made you want to drop to your knees, confess everything, and beg to be his. God, he was so fucking tall. He had only been about five foot eight the last time you had actually talked, and now he was at least a foot taller. His teenager haircut was long gone, now replaced with his curls trimmed at the nape of his neck before filling out on top – not quite an undercut. He had more freckles now, surely. His skin just a bit tanner, a scar trailing from his cheek to his jaw. You knew there were more scars, just as you knew that there were dimples when he smiled.

You wanted to have him between your legs while you begged for mercy, holy shit.

Tucking the USB into your pocket, you tilted your head as you will yourself to relax.

“I went through all the trouble of getting it... I think if I’m going to hand it over quickly, I deserve to know what’s on it, no?” you tease, your confidence coming out of nowhere while a smile spreads ever so largely over your features. Deku’s eyes widened just a bit, shock overcoming his green eyes.

“I’m sorry, but that’s confidential,” Deku stresses, taking a step forward toward you. You click your tongue, taking a step backward while grinning.

“I don’t think that’s what I asked for,” you giggle as you watch Deku’s face go through an array of emotions before settling onto one – curiosity.

“What do you want?” he asked, apparently entirely ready to discuss any and all terms and conditions with you.

“Honestly?” you reply, tapping a gloved finger to your chin as you ‘think.’ Deku, however, nods. His stance relaxing, becoming one of preparedness but not the takedown he had previously entered with.

“A date with you.”

You watch as Deku’s eyes slam wide open, his jaw dropping immediately and he stammered. Oh, how your heart soared and how you felt giddy and wonderful as he seemed to slip and slide on his own tongue!

“A-A date?!” he ends up almost shrieking, his head shaking left and right. “T-That’s a total lie! You can’t possibly – well, no! Please tell me the truth!”

But you were giddy, practically drunk off the fact that you were making the most powerful hero in the world blush like a little schoolboy. You suddenly were on the offensive, stepping towards your hero who was much larger than you with power and drive behind each step. And it must have been the way you stared him down, the way you walked towards him at blank range with such brimming confidence that Deku takes a step back. But it’s something that makes you want to laugh as the heel of his foot gets caught on a raised tile, and you watch the mountain of a man tumble to the floor.

You’re on top of him immediately, hands pressed to his shoulders, knee settling near his crotch with most of your weight so he got the idea to not do anything funny. The USB sits between your fingers, and you lean over his flushed face that looks up at you with wide eyes.

“Actually, I changed my mind, I know what I want,” you say instead, nose ghosting over his. “Everytime I decide to do something… naughty… I want you to be the hero on the case to stop me. You and just you.”

You lean in closer, so close that you could see the specks of gold in his green, green eyes.

Deku hasn’t spoken, and you’re pretty sure his chest isn’t moving as you press your breasts against his.

“Understood, De-ku?”

Your teeth tug at his bottom lip and let go as he nods.

“Good, good,” you grin, sitting up on his chest and taking the USB in your fingers and slipping it into his utility belt. “Take good care of that for me, I’ll see you next time, hero…”

You had only managed to flash a quick wave before disappearing through your usual door, hoping and praying to god that whatever the hell possessed you would continue until you reached Mei’s. It wouldn’t hit you until much, much later than you had stunned Pro Hero Deku speechless within the first meeting.

Hell, you thought giddily as you answered Bakugou’s call about how he probably just got into a bit of a messy situation, maybe you do have the potential to woo him like this.

Thus truly began your descent as the villain Mirage.

It was quickly accepted and discovered that the moment you stepped into that costume and colored hair that you were the prey for Deku and Deku only. Most of your interactions with Deku occurred within buildings, and you used Mei’s gear to gain the final laugh each and every time to allow for you to escape. There were times, however, where you could be seen racing through the sky. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop as Deku followed after you, leaping, tumbling, and even catching you at times.

You flirted with him heavily, allowing yourself to be caught so that you could bat your pretty lashes and press your chest against his. It didn’t matter how professional he was, how good at his job he was, Deku was a pervert – so obviously a pervert it made slipping away almost too easy.

But because you had the world-renowned, world known Pro Hero Deku as the only hero on your case, soon the small block who had to play victims to your horrendous crimes became only a small percentage of people who were watching your crimes. These near daily crimes (or inconveniences/botherings as the people on the internet say to defend you and your actions) are becoming both a worldwide sensation, and so, it took nothing for you to continue having Deku at your feet and the world chipped in. So you agreed to do interviews, forcing uneager reporters to do segments on you so that the hype behind you and Deku’s relationship grew.

You didn’t want him to leave you, not until you got what you wanted, and unless you were an idiot, you were nearly positive you were almost there.

Why would you say that?

Well, a few reasons.

The first came about a week after you had first met Deku again.

You had joyously gathered the means to create a machine to shave down an eighth of an inch of everyone's shoes in the entire country of Japan without their knowledge. You had ever so evilly explained that the point of this was to ensure that for a full day, everyone would feel off and unbalanced but would not know why.

You had said this, grinning widely as you turned around to see Deku standing there attempting to fight off a very amused smile.

“I don’t think that would be all too evil, Mirage,” he called out to you, arms folding across his chest as he watched you set up the machine to do exactly what you said you would do.

“Mm, that’s what you say now, but just wait until you’re one of the losers stumbling around,” you say back, grinning as you turn around for just a second, wagging the knife at Deku from the distance.

“Well, regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku laughs just slightly, and you grin, standing up.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes, so I’m going to have to ask you to stop right there.”

You giggle.

“Make me.”

You’re not sure what happens, but there’s dodging and weaving, spinning and sliding. You’re practically wheezing from how hard you’re laughing as Deku can not manage to land a finger on you with the help of Mei’s items and your quirk. It all comes to an end when instead of dodging, you throw yourself right at him, and Deku has not anticipated that.

His eyes are wide open and you fiercely grin as he falls back onto the floor, unbalanced and only slightly frantic. You have the knife pointed at his neck, the dull blade sitting gently on his skin.

“So, Deku,” you taunt teasingly, your teeth burying into your bottom lip for just a moment at the sight of the dark flash in his green, beautiful eyes. “Tell me one thing, or I’ll continue on with my vile plans.”

“O-Okay?”

“Are you single?”

The second attempt came a few many weeks later.

You had gathered about 75 tons of glitter bombs and were in the current process of making them one. You had plans of setting it off over Tokyo so that for practically the rest of eternity, the entire city would have glitter everywhere. The only thing is that you did have to glue the glitter bombs together because, well, no one made super giant ones.

“This is so annoying, there’s glitter everywhere, and I’m only ten glitter bombs in!” you complain to the ‘empty’ room but knowing full and well that Deku had appeared through the broken window at least five minutes ago.

“If it’s annoying to you, then shouldn’t you stop?” Deku replied and you grinned.

He really couldn’t stay quiet, huh?

“Well, if it’s annoying to me, then that means every one of my victims will also find it annoying. Win-win situation.” you say, turning around towards him and winking. Facing back towards the glitter bombs you scowl, “stupid fucking glue gets everywhere, too!”

“Regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku said as leveled as he could although you swore you heard a laugh in his voice.

“Just try and stop me,” you reply back stone cold.

You stand up and watch as Deku stands up from the windowsill and sighs just a bit too heavily.

“Guess I have to,” he says and shoots out before you’re well prepared.

Typically, and probably in any other situation, this would have been the end. Pro Hero Deku had come at you with the speed and power as he took out any other Class F criminals, but unfortunately for him, and definitely fortunately for you that glue was EVERYWHERE.

Deku’s hand was stuck onto your arm, and your chest was glued to his stomach, and you swear you never quite got the strawberry Deku references until right now.

The perverted hero burned scarlet, his face practically simmering with heat as your body became undeniably stuck to his. You had to fight off the vindictive smirk, the practically snarling grin as you could feel something hot and heavy twitch at your hip.

“Fuck,” Deku wheezed.

“Fuck, yeah,” you grinned.

“WHAT?!”

Deku could not look you in the eyes for about 10 more interactions following that, but you counted that as a win. But undoubtedly, your starred and favorite memory of it all was something that occurred just last week of the current present events.

You had stood on top of a building, threatening the entire government of stealing (i.e., cutting off) the aglet of their shoes and sweaters and then removing all the laces so that it would result in their wasted time and entire humiliation!

“I don’t think most people even know what aglets are, to be honest,” Deku said from behind you. You turned around to see that he was standing there with an unsuppressed grin. “It’s not a good enough threat.”

You go unfazed by his judgement, choosing to instead bat your eyelashes and push your hair behind your ear.

“Not a good enough threat, and yet, you’re still here?” you tease, enjoying the way pink flushes to his cheeks.

“Where else would I be?” he says, and you have to ignore the way your stomach fills with butterflies.

“You’re not cute when you flirt back,” you deadpan, biting your tongue harshly when he says ‘hey!’ “Enough chit chat, let me kick your ass now and then do what I need to do.”

Unlike probably what is 95% of the time, you made the first move today.

You were on the offensive, jabbing and weaving, sweeping and punching. Deku’s green eyes were nearly black as he watched you, analyzing and taking in your movements, countering them all without so much of an issue.

“I still don’t get your quirk,” Deku grunted as his hand swiped at the empty air. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“So then you can turn me in to the government who are still salty about their aglets? I don’t think so!” you say with a laugh, rolling out of the way as Deku lunges forward. “Try again, baby, I have full faith that you’ll get it.”

Deku puffed out a chuckle and lunged again, his huge gloved hand swiping at you, with nearly accuracy despite your quirk being on. But… he wasn’t exactly perfect.

RIIIIIIIIIP!

Cold air hit your breast and your jaw dropped as your very exposed breast appeared before you and Deku. Pro Hero Deku had torn the breast of your costume, the costume that you purposefully did not wear a bra for because you had wanted this exact scenario to play out.

“DEKU!” you screech, pretending to be modest and covering your tit as Deku finally yanked himself out of staring at your breast and whipped around.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry! I didn’t think that was going to happen! I didn’t even mean to look at your boob! It just sort of all happened too fast and it was very shocking! N-Not that you have an ugly boob or anything because actually I think you have a very great boob! But oh my god, I need to shut up please ignore me!” Deku spoke so fast in a matter of five seconds, and you couldn’t even tell him to come back as he sprinted away.

His ears burned red and you swore even as he was gone, you could still see the red of his ears illuminating the sky.

You laugh.

“What a perv.”

And so, we are back to the beginning.

Back to how you forced a local news channel to read your demands so that you could hopefully take your final bow as Mirage forever.

With the threat of having a machine that would make dogs bark at a frequency for hours on end until humans eardrums broke then bleed. You made your way to your typical building and hummed as you waited.

The world outside was the same as always.

There were a few people out, a few cars driving through the street, and a few birds chirping here and there.

It was peaceful.

“Don’t you think the new reporter thing was a bit dramatic?” Deku chuckled from behind you.

You were used to him approaching like that, used to him trying to portray being elusive and cool. In your opinion, it just made him dorky.

“No such thing as being dramatic when I’m trying to go head to head with the greatest hero ever,” you respond back effortlessly. You spin on your heel and look back at Deku, who is leaning against a doorframe that he most definitely is slouching on so that the top of his head doesn’t hit the frame. “Hi, Deku.”

“Hi, y/l/n,” he says with a soft smile, one that's slightly victorious, one that makes your stomach knot in a pleasant way.

“Ah, you discovered my secret identity,” you observe, grinning as you begin approaching Deku. “Should I be scared?”

“Probably not, I don’t think I could do anything to you,” Deku sighs, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you too. “You’re pretty amazing, y/l/n.”

“Let’s prove that then,” you grin while zipping forward.

As if the both of you knew that this was the end of the line, the final confrontation, the battle this time was different. It was showy, flirty, full of spins and side steps, playing a game of cat and mouse while dodging and weaving. You laughed as blackwhip dissolved around your costume, and you frowned as he began using more of his power to get from point A to point B much quicker.

You’re not quite sure how it happened, what exactly you did wrong, or maybe Deku just finally figured out the pattern you used for your quirk because suddenly you were being tackled from behind. You shrieked as the two of you went down, his body flushed on top of you, his chest pressing to your shoulders.

The both of you were heaving, panting, completely out of breath from the five minutes you took playing around. He holds your wrists in one hand, pinned above your head, and the other one is on your waist. You were trapped beneath him, unable to move the absolute unit of a man above you, arms and hips weak to his weight. You shoved your hips up, attempting to shift some of his weight off you, but you froze as he choked on a breath by your ear.

Your ass was pressed against something hard, thick, and hot.

Oh.

Ohhh fuck.

It was happening.

Holy fucking shit.

Your breathing hitches as you thrusted your ass up again, confirming you were grinding on what was definitely Deku’s hardening cock. And once again, Deku makes the prettiest, most embarrassed gravelly grunt at the back of his throat and you feel like every strand of resistance and strength snaps.

The hand on your waist pulls you even closer against his crotch, and there's lips pressing against your neck, and you absolutely lose it.

He kisses your neck sloppily, teeth nipping at your exposed flesh, and you grind against him, moaning and thrusting back as your body feels like it's on fire. He wanted you! He wanted you and your plan to woo him worked!

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you keen breathlessly. “Wanted you so badly, Deku.”

“Fuck,” Deku curses, his hips thrusting back against your clothed ass with power you couldn’t fucking wait to feel. “I wanted you too. Wanted you so badly, but didn’t think – holy shit.”

His hand that pins your wrists lets go of you, and moves to grab your jaw. You nearly fucking melt as his full lips slam against yours, and you moan as his lips move against yours. There’s something indescribable about how he’s kissing you, the want, the need, the months of suppressed tension bursting through every move and curve of his mouth. It doesn’t matter to you that you’re pressed up against the concrete floor, you feel like you’ve been placed into another world, an area where you can never come back.

Your arm reaches behind you and buries into his soft curls, you tug at them as your ass circles against his thrusting hips. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you whine at the hot, wet muscle in your mouth, and it sends your head spinning. You can’t take it anymore, you need him, want him flushed against your front.

“Can I fuck you?” Deku asks swollen lips pulling away from yours, his mouth frantic and trailing kisses up your cheeks and down your jaw. “Please, I wanna fuck you so bad. Wanna fuck you on the floor and against the wall. Can I make you mine?”

You nod your head frantically, unable to come up with the words to say in order to tell him yes.

Deku laughs breathlessly and flips you over so that it’s your back against the floor now.

And just like you want him to, Deku comes down to reclaim your mouth. Hot, open mouthed kisses, teeth tugging at your lips and hands grabbing your waist. His hands are huge against you filling up the space between your hip and your waist without an issue. Your legs wrap around his waist, feeling entirely small underneath him, but entirely ready to be fucked by him.

His lips move expertly against yours, teeth nibbling at your lips, mouth then sucking on your tongue. You can’t keep the continuous moans from leaking out, can’t keep yourself from staying quiet as your eyes flutter open and see green eyes so dark they look black, staring down at you with the intensity of a predator.

You were his prey, and you would present to him at the drop of a hat.

His body is hot, heat rolling off of his hero costume in waves, making you feel like you were near burning against him. And the heat between his thighs sits at the bottom of your ass, thrusting up and grinding against you so that you don’t forget even for a moment that you are making him this way.

“I always knew you’d have such a pretty moan,” Deku mumbles as his fingers find the zipper to your costume and begin to tug it down. His lips trail down your neck, biting and nipping at the newly exposed flesh. “Knew you’d look so pretty under me, waiting to be fucked into submission.”

The words spark something within you, your eyes fluttering as your hips grind just a tad bit faster and you whine.

“Aw, is that what you wanted this entire time, y/l/n?” Deku asks, his grin pressed against your collarbone. “Wanted to be stretched out and fucked until you can’t anymore?”

“I want it,” you gasp, your fingers burying deep into his curls. “I want you, I want it, I want your dick in me already!”

“Not into foreplay?” Deku chuckles just a bit, tongue then tracing up your neck.

“Oh I am,” you snap, fingers finding the zipper of his own costume. “You can find out later how much I’m into it, but right now, I have been wanting you for years, and you will not make me wait any longer!”

Deku only nods frantically, and it's a mess of limbs, sloppy kisses, and clothes as the both of you strip to nothing.

Deku’s in between your legs, one hand pressed to the back of your knee, the other gripping what you believe is his dick because it makes everything in the world freeze as you see it. It’s huge, so thick that his hand wraps around it in a nice grip, and it long, curling up to his abs, curved and veiny.

“Holy shit,” you squeak, your cunt already clenching at the thought of taking that in.

“Are you ready?” Deku asks, the hand on your leg moving away for a moment as he cards his fingers back through his hair. “I don’t have a condom, though.”

“That’s fine, I don't care,” you dismiss his words, eyes too focused on the flush cock in his hand. “I don’t think I’ll live after you kill me with that anyways.”

Deku laughs just a bit, his dimples flashing as he leans in and kisses you deeply. You tremble underneath him, feeling so small pressed up against him, and you mewl when you feel the head of his cock pressing between your folds.

“Put it in,” you gasp, leg lifting and wrapping around his waist, “put it in! I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk, do you understand?!”

Deku nods, and with a sense of frantic need, his hand guides his cock into you.

It feels like you’re splitting in half. The girth of his cock stretching your walls out to the max, and he’s only going in. You scream loudly, both in pain and pleasure because it hurts so good.

“Take it, baby, take me all in,” Deku pants, his hips pushing out small, tiny thrusts to ram his cock further and further into your twitching cunt. “That’s i-it, holy fuck, that’s it! You’re taking me all the way in. F-Fuck… you’re so amazing! So fucking perfect!”

Tears are pouring out of your eyes, and your nails are tearing into his back, you sob slightly overwhelmed with his cock and the absolute pleasure of finally getting what you want and it being so much better than you thought. Your cunt throbs almost violently as Deku’s cock finally hits your cervix and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he thrusts in further, lips attempting to claim yours.

“Fuck me, Deku,” you beg, hips beginning to slam and fuck up onto his cock. “Please! I need you!”

“Such a desperate little villain though,” Deku sighs, teasingly, giving you one strong thrust for good measure. It goes a long way though, the power behind his thrust and thighs promising you a bruised ass, thighs, and cunt makes your mouth water for more. “I need you to promise to never do anything like that again and be a good little manager for Kacchan.”

“W-Wha–”

“Be good and stop being Mirage, or else you won’t be fucked.”

There was no hesitation.

“Okay.”

And just like that, Deku’s soft smile curves into a knowing, fierce smirk, and you can do nothing as his hands press to the back of your knees and he begins thrusting his hips into you. And it takes you completely out of control.

It’s a messy, frantic dance, your body holding onto his, your lips pressing against his, desperate and needy for his, and he is basically trying to imprint his body onto yours, the concrete, and the walls. Your bodies are so foreign to each other, and yet, when he fucks into you just a bit hard, just a bit faster, you come undone, back arching and toes curling as you sob his name.

It’s overwhelming to know that he can read you this well and for you to have never fucked him before. It’s empowering to see that he likes every forced and involuntary squeeze and clench of your cunt. He loved when your nails dug into his skin, raking their existence against the plane of broad muscles and scars.

Deku curses your name as you clench around him, his hands moving to your jaw so that he can lift your face to kiss him just so. He kisses you with a heated passion, a need that strips your entire being bare, and his hips slam so loudly against you, the slicked wetness is squelching and slapping with every grunt and moan.

In and out his cock goes, and you praise him and his cock.

You praise him for making you feel so good, for stretching out your pussy with that fat cock of his. You beg for more, and more, and more. You want every snap of his hips to send new colors to your vision, and every echoing squelch of your meeting, sloppy sexes only adds to the blabbering, unmanaged sentences from your lips.

“Harder, faster, more!” you beg, practically wailing against his shoulders, needing him more and more. The concrete hurts against your back, but you don’t care. You don’t care if he breaks your back, it’s a fall you’ll take. “Don’t hold back! Don’t you dare hold back!”

“Fuck, you’re crazy,” Deku gasps, his sweaty brow burying into your cheek. “I won’t though, I won't. Be ready, I’m not sure if you can take it.”

Before you can snap back that you can in fact take it, Deku’s weight falls heavier onto you and the angle shifts just slightly, and your words are ripped right out of your throat for a pitched, window shattering screech. Deku fucks into you with a new power, some untapped strength as greenspark falls from his skin as he ruins you for anyone ever again.

Your voice begins to scream out, the feeling of his vicious, thick cock snapping into you, shoving your shoulders further and further into the concrete was sending your head spinning. Your body is convulsing as he fucks you with new vulgar need and strength. But before you could scream your praises, Deku’s fingers shove into your mouth, and his other hand wraps around your neck, silencing your words and noises as he fucks up into you again and again and again.

“So loud, angel,” Deku smirks, fingers stroking and pinching your tongue as saliva pours endlessly from your mouth. His voice isn’t strained however, doesn’t have any indication that he’s out of breath or ready to tap out and that nearly makes you go insane. “I can’t wait to see everything that makes you look like this… you’re so pretty when you’re getting fucked.”

Your head is spinning, the heated tightness in your core clenching and throbbing as his conquesting cock never once stops or lessens. It just grows and grows and grows. His cock twitches in you, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he lets out a deep moan.

“Such a good and wet cunt you are,” Deku gasps as you gag against his fingers that press roughly against the back of your tongue. Your vision feels hazy, but you feel like you’re on cloud nine as his hand on your throat opens and closes, demonstrating his power over you. “I’m so glad you went through all this hard work to get me to fuck you.”

You can’t speak, so you nod desperately, you were so happy you did this too.

Your hips buck up into him with sheer stubborn drive to get him to toss his head back and moan, you wanted to see him unhinged too. Your eyelashes flutter, as his hands remove themselves from your face, and they move to your hips to help you out. But the building tightness and demanding need in your cunt was growing louder, hotter, completely undeniable. Your teeth sinking against his skin as you whimpered loudly, absolutely pathetically as you shifted faster, fucking against him harder.

“I-I’m so close,” you manage to moan out, and a sharp escape of air comes from his nose at that revelation.

Deku nods, his head moving so that his forehead rests against yours as he looks deep into your eyes. “I need you to look at the way your belly bulges while I fuck you before you cum, I want you to watch it bulge as you cum.”

You whimper, the strain in your neck almost insufferable as you peer down at your hastily exposed stomach, and you nearly faint at the pornographic, near-insane image of your stomach bulging with his hammering monster of a cock. And just like that, the tight heat in you snaps without a hitch, and you come tumbling down from the heights of your building orgasm. White heat and light spread through your body, your jaw slacking as you moan loudly, screaming his name as you convulse against him, body entirely limp. Deku, who was barely hanging by a strand, completely loses it when your core clenches like a vice against him.

Hot, thick ropes of cum spurt from his cock, his heavy, shaking gasps the only thing you can hear as he fucks into you once, twice more for good measure he collapses onto his forearms above you. It’s hot, almost too hot as he lays on top of you, the sticky fluid of his cum radiating against your already blazing walls, and for a bit, there’s silence.

Deku is the first to move afterward, and you whine as he pulls his cock out of your sore, abused pussy. You make a noise of curiosity then fear as Deku spreads your legs even more open and moves so that his head is face to face with your cum filled pussy.

“What are you–?!” you screech as Deku takes a lick out of your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, this does taste good,” Deku smirks as he once again licks your overstimulated pussy and you sob. “Besides, who said we were done?”

bonus!

“Everyone, this is my girlfriend y/l/n y/n!” Izuku happily introduced you to his group of friends.

“What the hell?!” Bakugou screamed, thrusting a finger at you and all you did was laugh.

So much for not being stubborn, huh.

#midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya smut #bnha #bnha x reader

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newtonsheffield · 3 years

Note

Any chance of getting some spicy royals content on this fine Sunday? After they’re married/during their engagement, I have a vision of them doing their events and then going back to palace and just like tearing each other’s clothes off and doing it on any and all available surfaces.

My friend, you understand the Royals vibe.

Their whole romance started because essentially they couldn't keep their hands off one another. That's not going to change when they're together, in fact, it makes it all a little worse. The young queen and her future husband are well known for probably being too in love.

Kate wasn't stupid, she knew what the entire country was saying about her when rumours of her relationship with Anthony started leaking from the palace as these things often did. And she supposed she was a good part to blame. People couldn't help but notice the Security that lined the corridor outside Anthony's flat, and really that meant there had to be someone of note inside, and there was, of course, the very public way Anthony had gone about things. It didn't take long for the rumours to start.

She called off the wedding for him

It was all arranged for publicity

The Queen Regent demanded she marry him if not Stirling

He's a traitor and so must she be.

It was vaguely amusing honestly, the idea that Mary of all people would be encouraging Kate to do anything to Anthony that wasn't punching him in the stomach. The palace PR team had practically begged her not to acknowledge Anthony publicly

"All due respect Your Highness, This will be a disaster." Jenkins had said, the bridge of his nose pinched in his fingers, barely 2 days into her relationship with Anthony,

Kate had bristled, "What are you suggesting, Mr Jenkins?"

"I'm suggesting, that publicly, Our new Queen has no consort, whatever you do in private is of course your own business."

Kate had frowned, "And what about when we get married." A small hiss escaped several people in the room and Kate had pretended not to see the way Mary stiffened beside her, plowing ahead. "Surely eventually I'll have to marry someone, what do you suggest then?"

And no one had really seemed to have an answer for her, which of course meant the answer was clear.

Hopefully you'll come to your senses before then!

But it hadn't been necessary in the end. Sophie had sent them to a primary school, and aided by a rather adorable Hyacinth Bridgerton, Kate and Anthony (Kathony as they'd been dubbed) had emerged as they country's new it couple. Requests poured in for comment, the were star crossed lovers people that certainly weren't supposed t fall in love but couldn't resist the pull. And allegedly, everyone could see it. Just from the way they looked at one another.

It seemed every day in those first few months blurry pictures emerged of them, Anthony's head resting on her shoulder on a street corner, Kate's legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her through the garden on his back, Anthony crowding her against a tree their lips nearly touching. It was relentless, and rather than sullying the image of the royal family, it seemed to make public opinion soar. Yes, their new queen was young, beautiful, and very much besotted with her grouchy boyfriend. It really was quite the narrative, and not very far from the truth. Before long reports of them slipping away at public events seemed to emerge, and this the palace could not abide.

"Kate, please, please do not sneak out of this event." Sophie was practically begging, looking sternly between her and Anthony. "I mean it, "I get it, you just got engaged, and it's adorable that you're so happy but Can we stay to the end of one event this month?"

"Ahh Sophie, when you look this good, lady's are bound to drag you behind a topiary animal for a quickie." Anthony had said, with that insufferable smirk on his face."

Kate had scoffed. "Won't be a problem, Sophie, Anthony won't be getting any for a while."

As it turns out, it was a problem. Before they'd even left the palace Kate was warm. Anthony had been sitting in the small living area attached to her suite by the time her styling team had finished flitting around her, and honestly, the sight of him made her mouth go dry.

He was wearing a light grey suit, the waistcoat of which had a light checked pattern through it, cut tightly across his broad shoulders, his red tie and pocket square in stark contrast. She didn't really need to look at them, she'd known before she even walked in what colour they would be, they always matched, Anthony insisted upon it. Insisted on her crest being neatly embroidered into them, and it was a little unflattering but it aways sent a little possessive thrill through her.

She'd cleared her throat and he'd looked up from his phone, smile already in place though it turned just slightly predatory at the sight of her.

"Well, well, your majesty, don't you look lovely this evening?" His fingertips had trailed over her bare back a little delightfully.

Kate had scoffed, her cheeks burning, "we promised hands to ourselves tonight."

Anthony laughed, "There's almost no way you're going to be able to manage that, Darling. I look delectable this evening."

God his arrogance was startling, even if he wasn't far off the mark. "You look average."

He wasn't deterred. "I'll make you a deal, Princess" She'd been the queen for months but he still called her by her original title, his eyes shining at her. "If we stay until 11:30, I'll give you a reward."

A shiver had run down her spine as she'd thought about last night when he'd bent her over the back of the sofa, his hands hot against her. "Won't be a problem. Prepare to get on your knees for me."

"It would be my pleasure."

By the time they'd been there an hour, Kate was struggling, Anthony's hand was hot on her back, his eyes burning into hers as he laughed and smiled, his glasses shining in the dim lighting, and it didn't help that she was sure the air conditioning was broken.

And he wouldn't leave her alone. Usually at these events after a while they were tugged in different directions, mingling with this lord and that, as directed by their teams. But tonight Anthony shrugged off all of his instructions, keeping his arm like a vice around her, the smell of his cologne a little overwhelming, his deep voice rumbling through the both of them, his finger tapping his watch every time her own hand slipped under his jacket or to the edge of his trousers, a stupid smirk on his face. God he was absolutely unbearable, and she wanted him so fucking much, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

Her eyes didn't leave his watch from 11:28, counting down the seconds as they slipped by, clearing her throat as soon as 11:30 ticked around.

"Can you have the car brought around Steve?"

Anthony's smirk intensified into something like a wolfish grin as they waved once more to the assembled party before they slipped out the side doors.

"Well, Your majesty, very impressive restraint shown tonight." his voice was like gravel in her ear, both hands on her waist now, one on either side, his teeth already nipping at her neck, it was all she could do not to groan loudly.

As soon as the car door was opened, Kate had tugged Anthony inside, her hand wrapped around his tie, his hips bucking against her at the sharp tug she gave it.

"What are you doing?" Her own voice was rough as Anthony attempted to settle into the seat beside her, his eyebrows raised.

"Sitting down so we can go home and fuck?" There was something so innocent about the way he said it, that made her heart flutter with love for him, his hand fiddling nervously with his glasses.

Kate clucked her tongue, tugging on his tie until his knees were resting on the floor of the limousine in front of her. "But we have such a long drive home, Lord Bridgerton, you better get to work."

Anthony's eyes darkened immediately, his hands tugging roughly at the hem of her dress, calming as he slipped underneath it, his lips trailing up her thighs, hands forcing her legs apart.

"Fucking hell I wanted to crawl under this dress the minute I saw you, wanted to do it right there in that fucking room again."

Kate tried to force her voice into something like nonchalance, failing miserably as she shifted her hips a little desperately "Well it would have certainly given the Lords something to tut about, you know how they like that."

His chuckle was slight muffled through the layers of her dress. "They're just jealous, they don't get to have you."

And then his mouth started moving over her, hard and relentless, and fuck she couldn't breathe. The privacy partition was thankfully already up as it always was on the way home from events, but still, Kate knew the driver, and Steve who always rode in the front of her car could hear her, and there was something oddly thrilling about it. Oddly thrilling about the obscene noises that were pulled from her chest, about the soft sound of Anthony's mouth on her, the soft moans falling from his lips at the taste of her, his voice coaxing against her.

"That's it, Kate, you've been such a good girl for Daddy."

Her eyes rolled back in her head, unable to help herself as her hips bucked against him helplessly, desperately seeking just a little more friction.

"Please, Anthony, Please."

He chuckled again and then he started moving impossibly faster, his fingers joining his tongue, forcing her higher and higher, she could see the reflection of them in the window as the streetlights passed, th obscene image of them branded on the back of her eyelids, And everything shattered. A soft scream tore through her chest, Anthony humming happily in response as her chest heaved, her breathing erratic.

Anthony's head popped out from under her dress, checking his watch a little dramatically.

"Well that took 5 minutes so I think I can probably do that another 3 times before we get home."

He managed another 4, one rolling against the other like an endless wave, her screams getting louder and louder, condensation covering the windows in the back of the car. And Anthony's smug smile as he tugged her boneless from the car, really was absolutely insufferable.

#royals #spicy sunday🌶#kathony #anthony x kate #anthony bridgerton #kate sheffield #kate sharma #molly's asks and answers

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worldsover · 3 years

Text

Judgement to the Desiccated ft. Karina

length ✦ 5573

genres ✧ sm type future; asphyxiation; blackmail; virtual_servant!Karina;

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Air did a poor job of not being polluted so Lee Soo Man flooded the world instead. The man himself certainly must be long gone and could not have been in charge of that decision but the legacy of his company far exceeds the legacy of any other human collective in history. Once on this planet, gas was the fluid of choice for respiration and breathing was an unconscious reflex. Now there’s Aether by SM. How very on-brand of them to have the liquid air you breathe follow perfume naming conventions.

Open your eyes and exit the sleeping chamber. Aether has you work for each inhalation, it desaturates the color of the bedroom—maybe there’s a subtle but uncomfortable tinge of yellow—and it makes your nose itch. Your muscles wield much less force than they used to because of the lack of resistance the fluid provides. Moreover, it smells like hairspray as though the ozone layer is taking sardonic revenge.

Screens impersonating windows track your eyes to ensure realistic parallax, playing the scene of divine blue heavens that could not exist. An azure sky is a reward for those planets that have an atmosphere and a sun for light to scatter. Your walls are either chrome or drywall white and your whole bedroom is plainly decorated just like the day you moved in.

“Etymology of bedroom,” you think out loud, though it falls on no ears.

“Bedroom is a compound noun consisting of bed and room. Bed goes back to Old English bedd ‘sleeping place, plot of ground prepared for plants,’ which goes back to the Germanic-”

Plants and sleep are both strong words to use nowadays. The former doesn’t exist in nature and it seems you’re the only one who bothers with the latter. Faint buzzing distracts you from the AI’s response and signals you to the nano drones that swim throughout the liquid to process carbon dioxide from your lungs. This whole ordeal could’ve been much worse if you didn’t have brain interfaces doing the hard part of controlling your diaphragm. The most you need is a purposeful thought. Still, it gets tiring having to think the same thought every three seconds. In. Out.

Was the metaphorical Soo Man teaching a lesson in perseverance? You love K-pop and imagine it’s how trainees used to practice dancing, singing, being charismatic. Being an idol had to be as natural as breathing air. Inhale and exhale. Right now with any antiquated programming language you clung on to, you could write a single for loop that did the same job. For every three seconds: breathe in, breathe out.

“What’s for breakfast today?” Not loud enough. “What’s for breakfast?” you think it louder.

“Welcome, master. Ae-Karina is ready for service.” It’s quite a kindness for SM to blur the bland dystopia you live in by augmenting reality through your neural device. A bosomy woman in a gold-lined but otherwise modest maid outfit appears from the corner of your eye and she bows. Ae-Karina is bewitching and almost becoming of her basis as its graphics have gradually upgraded over the rotations but you wouldn’t misconstrue the avatar as human.

“I said, what’s for breakfast!” It feels impolite to scream in your head, there’s other residents there, but finally the fridge lights up.

“Of course master. May I remind you eating is unnecessary?”

In. Out. Every day, she does remind you, yes. How kind of the company to put all your nutritional requirements in the new air. Aether goes in then Aether goes out. You wish the thoughts of breathing could fade into the background but they’re just like your cravings for food. Always hungry but never starving, whole though not once satisfied. Your eyes pause at her gorgeous face and she tells you there’s bacon. Take it from your fridge. Bacon goes in. Well, the drones take care of the out.

Your assigned living space is the entire 207th floor of a tower. Two hundred and seven floors below the surface. The neighbor a few floors upstairs says that he thinks living deeper is a sign of status. What a luxury. That guy should check the status of his facial muscles, maybe improve his code that lets him tell lies while he’s at it. A couple hundred flights of stairs to swim up is a useless skeuomorphism of skyscrapers in the days of the sun. In fact they were more than useless, you would've preferred a single vertical hallway as it would have let you propel upwards unimpeded. Each floor is the exact same, a glass door that affords no privacy for its residence, a false tree on each side. At the upper levels, malls, convenience stores and other gaudy retail, but it’s the gyms that mock you that you mock in return. They’re always empty.

Finally reaching the top is no true break even if it is a change in scenery. Inhale. Aether tastes a little different up here. Exhale. Can’t say you like it.

Countless satellites form a parody of the star from which the planet flew away, the false image refracted by the upper boundary of Aether. They can’t take away your memories of this star. Looking up at the sky once blinded you with ultraviolet radiation, burning your cornea. It was beautiful. Now everyone’s decided that if they’re playing the part of corporate dystopia, they might as well fit the aesthetic. In a way, it’s self-fulfilling. They wouldn’t have chosen a neon pink sun to compliment the blue and metallic gloom of the cityscape if it weren’t so ingrained in popular media already.

Still, you would’ve expected Google or Walmart to become the megacorp responsible for the state of the world, not a Korean entertainment company. Must’ve been quite the red paperclip scenario. Instead of material design or utilitarian architecture, tacky artistic structures line the streets. The same advertisements for albums that they’ve been selling for the past however long. It's all so obvious, the city could've been designed from scratch to accommodate new forms of travel and goddamn liquid air but instead they went with futuristic Tokyo.

Dubstep permeates your inner ear implants. A notification informs your thoughts that it’s “Hip-hop EDM dance pop with a strong jungle house groove and urban influences.” It’s dubstep. Liquid carries barely any sound so SM affords the option for implants if you're nostalgic for one of the senses. Even though it’s a slower form of communication than direct neural transfer, the noise comforts you. Of course the company would choose dubstep as their background music, but maybe they make money off refunds somehow. It switches to Ice Cream Cake. Much better.

You walk the not so busy roads towards a short brick warehouse in the distance and heavy rain soaks your clothes. No such thing as weather without the sun and water but it’s all simulated anyway.

A warm Seulgi adlib and you know it’s Psycho that starts playing. No, none of your senses are real. The most you could trust is your vision but even that’s being lied to. You could be living in a vat and fed all these thoughts, but then why make it so mediocre? Not paradise, nor torture but a lukewarm in-between. Guess that's what happens when SM Entertainment manages the post-apocalypse. Good on them for trying. The alternative would be a frozen hellscape without solar radiation. Can’t deny their work with geothermal and nuclear energy to keep the Aether warm so that you didn’t have to live underground for the rest of human history. It’s quite great PR to save humanity.

“Hey now, we’ll be okay,” repeats a few more times than you remember.

The Idea Factory Alpha White Delta Green says the neon tubes lighting the front of the brick and mortar building. Your ID card bears a name but it’s not yours, not until they approve your name change. Those usually get processed faster with how often people liked changing their names.

Sit at a desk with a sterile white keyboard and slick new monitor. Type and empty words appear on the screen: “Think for the many, not for the one. We need to think ahead.” A thumbs up. The company appreciates the input. That’s probably enough work for one day. Some SNSD live stages help the time pass, SM certainly appreciated the streaming numbers and it would net you some social points.

It’s hard to say what comes to mind when they ask you to envision a world without the sun and air, especially since it’s what you’ve known for... Two hundred years? There’s no frame of reference, that much you can tell from when you counted seconds to see how often the satellites completed their orbit. SM really took time to have them propel at random speeds, they love withholding sensitive information like that from citizens. To be fair, time is sensitive. Guess the meaning of that phrase changes like all parts of language.

Look around. Dozens of employees at identical workspaces all try to answer the same questions. Naturally, there’s no need for manual labor anymore but there will never be a replacement for human ingenuity. Nice slogan but you know you’re only here for data. Can’t see a need for customer retention though—what’s the alternative, skip Earth? See you on another planet?

“Hey bro, you come up with anything new?” Dave says. Two desks away, you see the enthusiastic, surprisingly spry man play around with a Newton’s cradle. The balls at each end bounce back and forth, not slowing down their rhythm any time soon.

“I think I got something,” you say, “Earth is not the answer. It can’t be, long term.”

“Ooh, I like that. Actually, I really like that.”

“What are you gonna do, copy me?”

“Of course not. You know how much SM hates plagiarism.” Click. Clack.

“Ha. As if there’s a single original thought left in the world.” Click. Clack. The imaginary sounds of metal spheres bouncing play in your mind. They got the volume wrong, no way it’d sound that loud from that distance. “You’d think with all their resources, they’d have figured out space travel by now.”

“I don’t think they want to leave, bro. Wouldn’t be great for profits.”

Your mouth opens to laugh and causes laugh8942.mp3 to play in Dave’s head. “I love it. SM probably hates that sass too,” you say.

“Oh no, they’re gonna arrest me for thoughtcrimes. Nah, they love creativity, just when it suits them. Also, if they actually did bust you for wrongthink like rumors say, I wouldn’t have this on me.” Dave twirls a finger and points at you and you thank his absurd flair for the histrionic that keeps you amused with such drab work.

“NewDrug.mp6. Would you like to play it?” the dry system voice notifies you.

“Woah woah there tiger, hold on.” Dave must’ve noticed your intrigued eyes and holds his hands up. “You might wanna experience that at home. But if you’re interested in more, ask for chicken parm at the vegan place. You know the one.”

Dave leaves his desk. He doesn’t return. You finish your work. Inspire. Expire. You’d rather not.

In contrast to your commute to work, the roads fill with others on your way home. You have to know. Take solace in the comfort of a bench where a huge McDonald’s arch bathes the surroundings and its people with a yellow glow. Really shouldn’t watch it now, especially if Dave says it’s a home type of watch but you have to know. A family of five watches you pass out. They, along with every other passerby, ignore your still body draped over the chrome outdoor seating as you look like yet another junkie. The title is correct after a fashion, the simulation is some sort of new drug. The details of the exploits that happen in the immersive replay wash over you but you don’t need them to know that it’s the sort of lewd that SM would not allow—at least not publicly and not without the right exorbitant payment.

Suit pants and underwear go straight to the laundry. That must’ve been an embarrassing sight but no one bothered to stop you, so it doesn’t matter. Look up where this vegan place was that Dave so presumptuously assumed you knew about and you find that it’s about four Avengers’ stores down from work. He must’ve eaten there before.

“Yo Dave, just wanna make sure, what’s the name of the vegan place called?”

“What are you talking about, man? You telling me there’s some secret underground farms that SM wouldn’t know about?”

You can’t tell when you got to work, a lack of standardized timing would help as well the haze of living in a monotonous dark. “Nah, I mean, for the-”

“I have no idea,” Dave emphasizes each word, “what you’re talking about.”

“I see.”

Work flies by, unusually.

“Hey, can I get a chicken-”

“Uh, this is Maron’s Veggies Only, it clearly says on the sign.”

Clear your throat. “Parm.”

The shifty part-time worker looks around and rubs his fingers gesturing for money. “No digital.”

Over the counter, you pass him a gold coin stamped with a holographic 1 and he hands you a USB stick and a laptop in return. How old-fashioned.

“It’ll sync with whoever you have set as your avatar experience aspect,” the worker says.

“Thanks.”

Ever vigilant as the patrol is, the alleys are the last place you want to go to hide with the obvious criminal element within them all but you head to one anyway. Dump the anachronistic technology in your storage pocket dimensions. Looking at its contents, you’d have to clean that mess up later, but the more you look like an average slob the better. The biggest problem with the inventories is all the people squatting in them. Inspectors wouldn’t care about the archaic ruins you left in yours.

“Welcome, master. Ae-Karina is ready to service.”

“I’d like to go on a date. A special date.” You highlight the key word special and sit on your living room couch. No one’s going to look in your glass door and regardless, you wouldn’t be the pervert for glimpsing into someone’s home.

“Ah yes, master. Ae-Karina is ready to fully service,” she says with a provocative tint in her tone, her sclera disperses to black to match. A pole drops from the ceiling while parts of her maid outfit dissolve which reveals more of the silky skin of her thighs, her lissom arms and most importantly her overflowing breasts. Ae-Karina wraps her legs around the pole and spins around, teasing fingers trace curves on her body to harden you. Her dance is precise but sultry regardless. She pulls up her short skirt to flaunt more of her ass beneath white panties and then pulls down to flourish her cleavage, not trapped by a bra. “Are you enjoying your maid’s show?”

“Very much so, yes,” you say.

Half of a smile forms before a glitch occurs and she teleports next to you, fully nude. It doesn’t pull you out of the illusion however. You just stare and drink in the splendor of her created body.

“You’re not going to touch?” Ae-Karina says.

A feel of her tits and you find it softer than pillows you used to rest on. Soft isn’t much of a character that exists anymore when the whole world is engulfed in liquid. No one has beds, especially with the rarity of sleep. Therefore, her mounds are a consummate dedication to the texture as you squeeze and pinch at her cute nipples.

Her maid outfit rematerializes as she straddles you. It provides more friction to your pants as she begins her lap dance. The weight of her body dragging across your legs and clothed erection induces your carnal impulses further. If only you could fuck the virtual idol. You have to make do with the imprint of her pussy lips on your bulge sliding up and down. Breath in. Breath out.

Ae-Karina pulls down your boxers and spits on your erection. It's not real but her hands so slick on your cock and you let reality slip. Real is for the past, you have desires gratified in the present. There is no real person nibbling at your neck but your nerves activate in sexual desire without discernment for truth. No, she doesn't love you, but when the voracious mass of ones and zeroes says it loves its master, you say it back.

"I love you."

ILOVEYOU infected ten million computers in 2000. An explosion. Calibration engaging. It’s 1:21 PM, Sunday, July 18, 2286 and hypothetically the sun would be out in its full rage. At this latitude and longitude, you’re at what was once the epicenter of all—Seoul, where a fountain caused a chain reaction allowing the hopeful remnant of a world to exist. It lasted a surprisingly long time without the sun and without Aether but the dying planet would succumb inevitably to the ever-increasing contamination so SM of all corporations took charge. A different kind of chain reaction occurred when they acquired a restaurant chain that discovered the recipe for liquid air. The law is on its way and prepared to punish you to its full extent.

You reel while your ears ring. An even sexier version of the woman you already fantasized about appears from your peripheral vision in the crater of your floor. A skimpy cop outfit, striated with reflective material that seems to wane black at different angles, outlines Karina’s curves. She has a tool belt with absurd gadgets, such as a knife baton hybrid, a taser combined with a spray bottle and a Tamagotchi. None of this is necessary. They could just immediately arrest you, impose limitations on your devices. Sure, SM cloned people to deal with underpopulation, but why Karina would be the enforcer is a whole nother issue. Maybe the entertainment company loves their irony?

“Halt. You’re under arrest. Any resistance will be penalized according to the combined Terms of Service of all SM and SM associated products.”

Fucked anyway, you figure you might as well go for it. Escape into your inventory and only seconds later you’re forced out. You manage to get what you need regardless.

“Violation of access rights will be charged to your account.”

It’s so obvious but there’s a reason you kept so much gold in physical storage. As you swim away, the sides of your apartment start to bubble. Bubbles? Already, your limbs feel unsteady. Something’s wrong in the Aether.

“This is standard procedure for escaping suspects that are indoors. Again, this is all agreed to under the Terms of Service.”

“When the fuck did I ever click accept to that shit?”

“When you were born in this world and decided you want to stay in it,” Karina says out loud. You hear her say it. Your physical ears process the vibrations in the air that come from her mouth. Gravity thwarts your desperate escape as your limp body floats on the limit between liquid and air. The atrophy of your muscles becomes apparent within the gaseous atmosphere. She watches you sink down as the room drains of all the false air though her eyebrows crease when she inspects you closer. Your breaths are involuntary. Despite your muscles shorting out, the force of gravity and the pressure of the gas bearing down on you, you’re breathing and you don’t mean to. Her eyes wander farther down. On your pants, a concrete rod stamps the fabric.

“Oh, you like what you see?”

“Shut up, criminal. Anything you say can and will be used against you.”

“Your pussy,” you say and she scoffs.

“Original.” Karina bites her lip as your erection continues to grow behind its prison. You use all effort to put your hands up.

“Please, miss Karina. I’ve been bad.”

“I could punish you even more for sexual assault.”

“Then do it.”

Heat radiates the room in a way you haven’t felt in a while and droplets of sweat form on each of your bodies, especially on the thighs that her revealing outfit parades. Her facial features contort in deliberation and the wait kills you. You bat your eyes at her before Karina takes off her tight shorts and drops herself into your anticipatory face. This makes no sense but none of this life made any sense so you decide to go with the tides.

Centuries of training your respiration has led to this moment, but when you finally have real air to breathe, you spit at the opportunity and choose to suffocate. Then you spit at her pussy and lap it up. Karina’s nectar transfixes your olfactory glands, for once a smell that isn’t the sterile Aether. Your eyes are mesmerized in parallel because of the perfect design of her pussy, a single crease that leads into her hole that your tongue emphatically explores. Karina spreads her thighs wide to reveal a small nub that craves attention. So give it. Suck and swirl and flick your tongue, and the woman provides you the tight clench of her legs as a gift. And the sounds, rediscovered glorious noise. Loud, almost too loud, and clear is how they assault your ears, even surrounded by the flesh of her thighs. Muffled by the weight of her legs, you hear Karina moan in approval but she’s still clearly in charge with how she chokes you with her legs. This is not about your pleasure but hers, and any satisfaction that you derive is not only incidental but probably punishable by SM copyright law.

Karina squirms her hips subtly on your mouth. Her eyes are sharp and she’s just about to stop your hands from moving but she notices them clasp together.

“I’ll do anything to make you cum, please.” you say sloppily as her pussy juices fill your cheeks and drip down your chin.

“God. I can’t.” She takes deep, contemplative breaths. ”That’s more time added on for inappropriate behavior.” Her groaning and brief squeals make her words sound incogent.

You give her a concluding lick and a kiss on her slit. “So what have you been doing right now then?”

Point to a corner of the room and a subtle red light indicates a recording camera. At once, she pulls out a hose from a pocket that could not fit it and the vacuum submerges the room with noise. Her expression shifts quickly to serious.

“We don’t play games here in SMTOWN unless it’s SuperStar so don’t fuck with me.”

“Look who's trying to be a comedian. How about you fuck with me any further and the video gets released.”

“That’s funny, you think you have any sort of power-”

“Yoo Jimin, I suggest you don’t push me more.”

“Where do you know that name from? Right now.” She weighs herself down on your neck.

“You think I don’t have contingencies for if I die too? Karina, we can make this a win-win scenario. We both get to cum, we both get to walk away unscathed.”

“Fuck you.”

Your weak arms wander between her thighs. At any moment, a feeble punch towards your face or another ten seconds of asphyxiation and she could call your bluff. Even if you did have the ability to expose her perversions in any way, there would be no permanent recourse, not as long SM was in charge. So it surprises you when Karina takes off her shorts.

“Goddammit. Your cock just looks too good. And your mouth, how are you so good with it?” Put up five fingers when she motions to remove her top as well, and instead she opts to take off your clothes, seizing your pants and throwing them to join the rubble in the room.

A finger slips in, then two and a third dares. Her flawlessly architected pussy lips clings to your digits and Karina shudders in reply. You explore her wetness and find it’s smooth to the point of having no faults, but her juice inside is gloppy and causes your fingers to stick more than the liquids she spills from her slit.

“Who said you’re allowed to have more?”

You lap up the nectar on your fingers. “Then why’d they make you taste so good?”

Your thumb teases her sweet tight asshole and puts just the slightest amount of pressure on it while you finger her with more intensity. The mass of her butt burdens your torso the closer she gets to orgasm. Her eyelids squeeze close and you see her body ripple in anxious pleasure. Karina shows off her pearly whites, teetering on the cliff of hysteria.

“Yes, yes! I’m so close,” she screams.

"Not yet."

“Fuck." Karina sobs, "God. Damn, fuck I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Just fuck me.”

“My pleasure,” you say. There’s no need for you to grab her since she brings herself down to your groin, which you’re thankful for as your arms are as good as jelly now. Fortunately, your cock throbs as hard as ever while Karina’s slit rests on it.

“Say you’ll delete it all, all the evidence, promise me.”

“You’re gonna fuck me first or what?” Your breath hitches while she makes a strangled noise as her velvety walls swallow your cock whole to leave no room for comfort. Her tightness is stifling and you have to start counting just to breathe again.

“One two-”

“Be quiet.”

But there is no quiet when pleas for your cooperation intersperse her excessive profanities when she seats herself into your cock and ricochets up and down. Sweat emanates from her creamy skin while her legs widen to find a better angle for her supporting knees in her cowgirl position. Grapefruit and other citrus mingle with the scent of the sweat, fruits you haven’t seen except on billboards in music videos. As much as your mind crackles and your blood roars for every atmosphere of pressure Karina’s walls provide on each thrust in and out, you can’t help but reminisce on sweeter, more innocent times.

The white fluorescent lights in your apartment sputter. For all the advancements in technology, some among many things never change. Light refracts differently in air, less bright, but you can see the pure enjoyment on Karina’s face no matter the luminescence. Karina slows her ride to pull her hips down harder instead and she jolts when your cock finds the most tender spots inside her pussy and it interrupts her babbling.

Karina almost hyperventilates when she gets up to spit on your cock. She pulls out some kind of meter from her tool belt and sighs when there’s no beeping and you recognize it having to do with carbon dioxide. She gets back to dribbling saliva and the filament trailing down to your shaft mesmerizes you. This spit is real, not simulated, and it wettens your erection in a mix with her pussy juices to paralyze you further in your already listless state. Her bare thighs jiggle and you can’t exert much force with your hands but her buttcheeks are firm with just a bit of give.

“Thank you for this cock, thank you for being bad,” Karina says as you watch her ass sink deeper while her pussy holds your dick taut. She’s frenetic when bounces up and down to play an unadulterated orchestra of slick noises between your groins.

“You’re welcome,” you accomplish getting out the words between planned breaths. Your hands cup her buttcheeks but you fear they may break with how she strikes her ass into you.

Karina turns around once more to give you the spectacle of her facial expressions as she fucks herself into you. Knead her calves laying on your torso and they take no energy to spread them though she brings them back together, compressing your hard shaft within her pussy. A new game you play with her, a separate rhythm of loosening and tightening. Her feet press on your chest to help her bounce, but the way they bear down on your lungs against the timing of your breathing causes you to fumble. Your cock bends straight forward as she plunges herself into you and it sends prickles to your entire skin, making the new angle difficult but worth it. Karina takes your hand and starts sucking on your fingers.

“You want my promise that bad?” you say.

“Yes, as bad as I want your cum. I swear, I need it.”

She draws her knees up to her torso and hugs her legs to keep thighs as tight together as possible. Karina couldn’t keep her word, she was trying to kill your cock with constriction.

“Fuck, your pussy is so fucking tight. God, Karina, fuck. You’re so good.” Even if good isn’t the word you want to use to describe her.

“Do it, please, please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, baby. Karina can be a good girl, a good maid, a good cop, whatever you want. Just don’t get me in trouble, please.”

Karina’s mouth stops saying words though her lips writhe, drunk in increasing lust. Her cheeks flush, before the rest of her skin joins in redness while she grapples your chest and whatever spare limb she can find. You still struggle wresting control of your body but nature seems to take over when you drive yourself into her and match her needy cadence. The air in the room is replaced by a new air but it isn’t Aether. Passion, sweat, heat and all fluids that you both exude join squelching sounds, slaps and moans in harmonic bliss when her body tenses and she screams. As her body tightens, her pussy especially holds your cock for dear life and endeavours to wring out all your semen as her wetness throbs and spills. Karina starts counting to three repeatedly and you laugh though your amusement quickly subsides when you feel her juices become more viscous and she continues her ride, even in the dying pulses of her climax.

“Was I good?” Karina asks.

Just a moment goes by before you mentally send her a screenshot of all the recordings being deleted. Karina hasn’t stopped fucking you yet so at least it wasn’t a ploy.

“Thank you, thank you, I love you.” The flexion of her pliant legs brings them all the way back to rest on top of your legs. Karina lays prone above you and finally give you a kiss. The citrusy flavor may be closer to lime than grapefruit but it’s been so long that you can’t remember which scent is which. Lips crash and her tongue lashes out at yours trying to establish dominance. Keep still to let her investigate your mouth while her pussy does the same to your shaft.

You savor the way Karina’s top emphasizes the bouncing of her tits synchronous with the rebounding of her waist on your cock, but your mouth waters when she frees them. Take the shortest moment to relish in the sight before Karina smothers you with her plump globes. You wriggle your face to try to breathe. Inhale, up and exhale, down, but all you inhale is the scent of her orbs’ sweat. Her hips undulate with a pace at least double yours breathing and the echoes of slapping flesh resonate throughout the air-filled chamber. The loudness is unlike any you’ve experienced in a long time. It’s almost a flashbang every time her ass slams into your lap, especially as you start to see white when orgasm threatens to overload you with preludial pulses.

The last words you hear infected ten million computers in 2000. Fade to black. Cut. You’re slammed out of existence back into existence as a sun rebirths both within you, heating your core to a dangerous high, and from your eyes, dazzling you in an unforgiving white light. In the throes of unconsciousness relapsing to consciousness back to tenebrosity, your streaks of semen suspend in the Aether like a dead tree resting from the wind. What flashes your mind in its orgasmic state are two things only you would remember, plants and weather. Your hyperventilation is unconscious but not unwelcome, as it’s the first time in a while your breaths were reflexive even in the liquid air. However, basking in your newfound power, you start to choke. Right. You breathe in and out again. In and out. In. Out. In. Out. Back in.

“Replaying KarinaArrestsYou.mp6.” A hint of vexatious glee in the system’s otherwise dry voice. You don’t stop for it.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

It’s pretty silly but the idea danced around in my head ever since I saw the absolute Black Mirror concept that SM had for aespa and I concur that Karina is insanely hot.

As I’m writing this, this Kurzgesagt video on the idea of a rogue Earth comes out and now I have to rewrite stuff to make it at least a little consistent. I’m obviously already going nuts with all these ridiculous sci-fi concepts but this video almost feels too targeted to me writing this for me to ignore it.

#kpop smut #aespa smut #male reader #reader insert #title tracks

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phynali · 3 years

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so not to ruminate on things that vex me, but the past 2 or so months have been kinda shit, and i’m trucking along and there absolutely are high points and good things and joys that balance some of this out, but i need to vent out some of the negative emotions somewhere to get ‘em out. so i guess i’m doing that here because -

we’re in lockdown#6 where i live (state of victoria) and it’s hard, this yo-yo of restrictions and swinging in and out of one lockdown after another.

for those who understandably won’t know, what we call lockdown here means not just restaurant and commercial closures and mandatory working from home unless you’re in an industry where that’s impossible -- it also means no guests (0) inside you’re home unless you’re both living alone and single or else romantic partners, it means not leaving your home at all except for one of 4-5 necessary reasons, not being outside for more than 2hrs per day even to exercise, and not going more than 5km from your home unless required for work/medical/etc required reasons.

it’s intense. we spent (i think) 128 days in this degree of lockdown in 2020, never mind how many we spent in other forms of restrictions and working from home. and we’ve been back in it four (4) times in 2021 already. in-out-in-out-in-out -

it’s taking a toll on the mental health of every person i know. we get weekly emails with wellbeing and resilience tips from my job -- not just “be productive or else” capitalism but heartfelt ones from wellbeing officers with copies of articles like this one on languishing from the NYT, acknowledging we’re all struggling and directing us to the plethora of wellbeing resources our workplace is trying to provide, not only to us but reminding us they offer it to our families too.

i’m one of the lucky ones. i’m really not trying to wallow here or to pretend otherwise. i appreciate that i can work from home, even though i can’t focus when i do and it this interacts with my adhd to fuck my productivity. even if i’m so behind and delayed it feels like i’ve lost 12-18 months worth of work and it will have long-term ramifications on my career -- even so, i still i have a job. i still get paid. and i even kept my job, a bit by the skin of my teeth but i did, when my sector downsized last year. yes, the way my employer went about lay offs left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth (my own included), but i made it through.

and my sector, while affected, is by no means the worst of the collateral damage.

the yo-yo of lockdowns is taking a very very real toll on industries like hospitality, tourism, commerce. and the economy does have indirect effects on health and mental health as well. my friend, a waitress, was on her way to work the evening shift at a restaurant when she got the call about the latest lockdown. she had to turn around and go home because the announcement came just hours before the lockdown was imposed, and every place suddenly had to close by 8pm. bye bye evening shift. so much of the government support for these industries has dried up, has been inadequate.

lockdowns save lives. i don’t begrudge my state for imposing one except that yes -- i’m resentful we’re here again with only six cases. i can be both accepting and grateful and also pissed and tired and more all at once.

even more than the latest lockdown, i’m pissed about the yo-yo. that we went into lockdown in june, came out in july, went back in in july, came back out in july, are going back in now, in the first week of august. three lockdown/re-openings in 10 weeks, as if this rollercoaster doesn’t completely incapacitate our ability to plan or prepare for anything more than a week out, more than a day out -- in this case, more than a few hours out. 4pm the lockdown was announced, with an 8pm start time. as if that doesn’t have more insidious consequences on individuals and industries than a more clearly articulated and consistent approach. as if all the restaurants that got to open up this week didn’t purchase large food orders for this weekend that will spoil because they were given 4 hours notice to close their doors.

that’s the part i hate, right now more than the lockdowns themselves. consumer sentiment was at a high in april, optimism was everywhere. people felt good, and like we had a plan forward. now -- well, now my job is sending me emails about how normal and okay it is that i might be ‘languishing’ because aren’t we all?

and i absolutely do begrudge my federal government, and i’m angry with them, and this is part of why:

youtube

but i also accept, to some extent, that these decisions have all been made in difficult circumstances, and i’m not really about to pretend i could do any better.

at the same time, australia’s vaccine rollout is among the slowest and lowest at least within OECD countries. i know that’s partly because we’ve managed the keep cases low and therefore we are prioritized less when it comes to who needs the vaccines most (and thus who is earlier in line to be able to purchase) among other geo-political reasons i won’t get into, but it still very much sucks. our timeline and ability to move forward and ability to stop having lockdowns requires a mostly-vaccinated population, and that’s not something we’ll have anytime soon.

and i am a visa-holder here and my family is back in canada and with our current border restrictions leaving to visit is honestly is not an option because i wouldn’t be able to return, to work. i’m managing that distance okay most of the time despite my homesickness and frustration but my partner’s parents are older and his mother’s health just isn’t amazing and it’s weighing on him a lot.

a phd student i work with just had a parent die in another country while stuck here, had to drop everything to return, is devastated by not being by their parent’s side when it happened because it came on sudden, and now won’t be able to come back into australia after, will have to finish their thesis remotely from abroad. stories like that are becoming commonplace in certain circles, here. this student is not the first or only person i know who has been in that exact situation in the past year.

it’s enraging, and upsetting, and instills a sense of helplessness because -- there’s nothing that can really be done about it. there’s no good answer, but it’s scary to think of what could happen. i know it scares my husband. if his mother’s health suddenly dips -- does he drop everything and leave? how can he not? would i go with him or hold the fort here? what ramifications does that have either way?

right now, we’re in the first stages of getting permanent residency, my job is putting in the nomination, and this is one of those awesome high-points i mentioned. it’s a very much needed sense of security in my career and my future in this country. but while a PR application is pending and under review, you can’t leave the country, even in pre-covid times. it takes months to get the application fully nominated, accepted, then submitted, and months on months to process.

in january 2020 we had agreed that for xmas 2020 we’d return home to canada. obviously the world changed and we quickly determined that wouldn’t be the case. we pushed that plan back to july-aug 2021, then to october 2021, xmas 2021. my partner’s sister asked him last week if we started making plans, booking things for xmas, was calling to check that we’d had our second jabs. he had to explain the situation to her, that we aren’t even eligible for our first vaccine yet, that we aren’t holding out any real hope of visiting, not this year, not until mid-next.

anyway - i’m just. languishing, i guess, if that’s the word for it after all. i know it’s not the same as depression -- i’ve had episodes of that, been treated for it in different ways. this is and feels different, even if there are obvious similarities. whatever to call it, it sucks, and i hate it. and i hate the other lows and anxieties and crap i’ve been dealing with in the past few months as well that didn’t make it into this post about covid. crap with work, with friends, with goddamn car rentals of all stupid things. crap that’s making me anxious and crap that just needs processing. crap that is, ultimately, massively exacerbated because lockdowns turn us into little rats gnawing on the bars of our cages.

and i guess i just needed to talk about it somewhere, to organize my thoughts and free up some headspace (emotion space?) currently being used to hold these thoughts and feelings in place. i kind of hate posting personal crap like this and always get the urge to delete but i also have a hard time organising my thoughts if i don’t write them out with this intent to post. sort of want to go outside and scream at god, sort of want to phone up a friend and yell at him for an hour for being an exhausting ass, sort of want to be alone for a day to curl up under a blanket with a movie that’ll make me cry because raging at the universe is always so much easier when i’m alone and unobserved. but i guess since those aren’t especially kind or feasible i’ll post this instead.

anyway - if you read to the end of this for any reason, i’m not trying to be maudlin, and there’s really no need to respond. it’s just a feelings dump, sucking some of the poison out, not really much different than journalling but i’ve always been better at that online than on paper.

#ugh #personal post #just organising thoughts and bitching about present circumstances #because i'm tired of 2021's bullshit and needed to vent a bit #gpoy

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k-llama-llama · 4 years

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Not This Time

BTS AU: 8th member

Sumi x BTS

Sumi knows the truth now, and now she has to come to terms with it.

Check out my PATREON (patreon.com/kllamallama) for exclusive content. This post was available a month ago for those on my patreon.

Requests are OPEN.

Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

Sumi had no idea what was going to happen when she stepped through the door of their apartment. She’d walked back from her shoot with the girls, taking the forty five minutes to try and process what she’d learned. But it still wasn’t clicking in her head, and she knew it wouldn’t until she was able to talk it out.

But she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what they had to say.

She dropped her bag just inside the front door, heading for the kitchen. Jungkook was sitting on the couch, watching TV, and he only glanced back when she came in.

“Hey, Noona.” He said, throwing a hand up in a casual wave.

“Hi.” Sumi poured herself a glass of water, walking slowly out to stand behind the couch. He was watching a rerun of some drama, likely waiting for something better to be on.

“How was it?” Jungkook asked. “You guys were shooting the group dance, right?”

Sumi shook her head slowly. “I didn’t tell you that.”

“Oh, well...” He froze slightly before he spoke again, and that was all Sumi needed to know. “You must’ve mentioned it.”

“Right.” Sumi swallowed a sip of water, feeling like her throat was impossible dry. “Hey, Jungkook?”

“Yeah?” He turned around. She rarely called him by his full name, and that was enough for him to look back and realize how dazed she looked. Sumi couldn’t even meet his eyes, just staring at the fabric on the back of the couch. “What’s wrong, Noona?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about you and YinYin?” Sumi said. She was so quiet, and he didn’t answer for a long moment, and she almost thought that he hadn’t heard her.

“How did you....” She could hear Jungkook swallow, but she still couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. “How did you find out? She told you?”

“I...I saw a picture of the two of you. And she owned up when I asked.”

“You didn’t....you didn’t say anything to her, right?”

Sumi took a deep breath. And then another.

And then she looked up to meet his eyes.

Jungkook was facing her, but his eyes were darting towards his phone.

“I did.” Sumi admitted. “And I’m going to apologize.”

“Why do you need to apologize? What did you say?” Jungkook demanded, his tone getting slightly louder.

“I blamed her for keeping it a secret.”

“It wasn’t her....it was my idea, Noona!” Jungkook jumped up from the couch, coming around to stand in front of her. He reached for her hand, and Sumi jerked back.

“I know that.” Sumi clenched her jaw. “But....but why didn’t you tell me?”

“I....” Jungkook wrapped his arms around himself, looking at the ground. “I wasn’t sure if you would like it. I didn’t know what you would say.”

“I like YinYin.” Sumi said quietly. “She’s...she’s really cool.”

“I know.” Jungkook said, a tiny smile breaking onto his face, before he shoved it back down. “But you always said it would be weird if I was dating and I didn’t want you to....I didn’t want to make it uncomfortable for you.”

Sumi swallowed, leaning back against the wall. “She makes you happy, right?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook nodded.

“Then that’s all I needed to know.” Sumi took a breath, wondering if he could hear how shaky it was. “I know....I know I can be overprotective but I’ve always just tried to look out for you. You know that, right?”

“Of course.” Jungkook reached for her again, but she still moved away. “But I didn’t want this to be about....about you.”

“But then why did you tell everyone else?” She breathed.

“What?”

“Zoey knew...and she....she made it seem like the boys knew. And that day you said you were going to a movie with Mingyu, you were going with YinYin. And Tae helped you get ready. So he knew, right? They all did?”

Jungkook took a step back now, bracing himself against the couch. “I...I told them.”

“When?”

“What?”

“When did you tell them?” Sumi asked.

“A...about a week before our first date. I’d been talking to her for a while and I-”

Sumi closed her eyes and took in shaky breath. “That was weeks ago.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything.

Sumi crossed her arms and met his gaze, forcing her voice to be steady as she spoke. “Why did everyone else get to know, and not me? And I know it wasn’t because you didn’t want to make me uncomfortable.”

“I just....” Jungkook searched for the right words. “You were working with YinYin and I didn’t want you to say anything or...or do anything because she was really excited about the group and I didn’t want you to-”

“To what? Sabotage her chance of being in the group?” Sumi couldn’t help the scoff that escaped her. “Do you really think I would do that?”

“I didn’t know, Noona!” Jungkook exclaimed. “I didn’t want to risk it.”

“It might have....it might have been weird for me, sure!” Sumi shook her head. “But it would have been like one or two awkward conversations and I would have gotten my head around it, Kookie. I would have.” She insisted. “But now I’ve....I’ve been mean to YinYin when clearly she didn’t want to keep this secret from me and I’ve fought with my best friend and I...”

“You’ve always stood up for me.” Jungkook told her. “I just didn’t want you to decide to interfere with-”

“Interfere?” Sumi demanded. “I know I’ve been overbearing but I promised - I promised you - that I would work on it and you said you would tell me if I was too much!”

“I know!”

“So why couldn’t you have just told me? We could have...we could have talked it out and it would have been fine.”

“We shouldn’t need to talk it out! I’m an adult and I don’t need your permission!” Jungkook shouted.

Sumi recoiled slightly.

The other boys were coming out of their rooms, looking confused about what was going on.

Sumi made eye contact with Tae, and then looked away.

“Fine.” She said to Jungkook. “You don’t need my permission. But look me in the eye, and tell me what we both know is true. You kept a secret from me, you told everyone to keep a secret from me because you didn’t trust me.”

“Sumi, that’s not-” Namjoon stepped forward. “That’s not fair. Jungkook was just doing what he thought was best.”

“What about what you thought was best?” She demanded. “Clearly you all agreed to keep this a secret for a reason.”

“We just didn’t want to hurt you.” Jimin said quietly.

“Hurt me? Because this right now is just really easy and not painful at all?” Sumi shook her head. “Why? Why wouldn’t you guys...why wouldn’t you trust me?”

“It wasn’t our secret to tell.” Yoongi said.

“It’s no secret that you’ve always been....caring when it comes to Jungkook. We just didn’t want to-”

“I’m not mad that he’s dating!” Sumi screamed. “I’m mad that all of you decided I wasn’t worth telling this secret to. That I’ve been so horrible that it was better to sneak around then just sit down like adults and talk about it.”

“Sumi, you need to calm down.” Tae walked over, placing a hand on her arm.

Sumi held up a hand to her face, feeling the tears that were running down her cheeks.

She looked up, making eye contact with Jungkook. In all of the time they’d known each other, he’d only seen her cry a handful of times. And never, ever had it been because of the other members.

But now it was because of him.

Sumi shrugged out of Taehyung’s grip. “Please don’t....don’t condescend to me and tell me how to deal with my emotions right now.”

“I just...I just think you need to take a minute and-”

“And what?” She shouted at him. She’d never shouted at Tae before, and a little piece of her heart broke doing it. “You knew! You knew that he lied to ditch me and go out with his girlfriend and none of you told me!”

“You didn’t tell us about Changkyun.” Hoseok said weakly.

“I didn’t tell anyone about Changkyun.” Sumi gritted her teeth. “So that is not the same situation.”

“How is it not the same situation?” Jungkook demanded. “I have the right to my own life, and I can date whoever I want to.”

“Jungkook, don’t.” Jin said, grabbing the other boy’s shoulder.

Sumi bit her lip so hard that she felt it break skin, before she opened her mouth again.

“You know what, Jungkook? Fine, I haven’t treated you like an adult. So I’m going to do that right now. I don’t give a shit about who you date. All I asked was that you tell me. I wouldn’t have cared if you were dating....Zoey...or an actress or a nobody or whatever. I love you, and that is all that matters. The reason I’m mad at you, is because you went behind my back, and you told each and every one of the people I love most that you couldn’t trust me.” She turned to look at the others. “And you all fucking agreed with him!”

There was silence.

Sumi held a hand to her mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.” She turned away, facing the wall as she tried to collect herself.

“You’re bleeding.” Tae whispered.

She pulled her hand away and spotted some blood on her hand, from where she’d bitten her lip. And then she swallowed and turned around.

“I’m sorry.” She said.

“You’re....sorry?” Namjoon blinked.

“Yes.” Sumi stood up straight. “I’m sorry that I’ve been awful and...and possessive and horrible all of these years. And I’m sorry that I made you all feel like you had to keep secrets from me to protect yourselves.”

“Sumi, that’s not-”

She cut Jimin off, holding up a hand. “And I’m sorry....I’m sorry for thinking that....that this was a different sort of family than it was. Clearly I’ve been so wrapped up in my own head all of this time that I never realized how...how miserable I was making you.”

“Soo, please.”

She ignored Yoongi and turned to Jungkook. “And I’m sorry, that the entire time I thought I was looking out for you I was suffocating you. I really thought what I was doing was best, and I’m sorry that I made you feel so controlled that you couldn’t tell me things.”

Silence met her.

Sumi nodded to herself, before walking towards her bedroom.

“What are you doing?” Namjoon asked.

“Getting some stuff. I need to...I need to go.”

She walked into her room. It felt like her entire body was numb, her mind unable to process what she was doing as she grabbed random items from around her room and shoved them into a tote bag.

Someone held out a hairbrush, and she looked up to face Jimin.

“I’m sorry, Soo.” He was crying too. “We tried to...I tried to convince him that it wasn’t a good idea.”

Sumi shook her head, dropping the hairbrush on the bed and picking up her bag. “Please don’t try to explain this away. But, I’m sorry too.”

She walked back into the living room, shoving her shoes on.

“Where are you going?” Yoongi asked.

“Going to my apartment.” Sumi said simply, picking up her gym bag and grabbing her coat. “I need to....you guys probably don’t....I just need to go.”

“You’re not going by yourself.” Hoseok walked forward, grabbing for his own shoes. “You’re not...you shouldn’t be alone.”

Sumi shrugged. “I know you mean well, but I can’t think of anything worse right now than being comforted by someone who lied to my face.”

“Call Changkyun then?” Jin suggested. “Please?”

“He probably knew too. Zoey wouldn’t keep a secret from him.” She looked up at the oldest member. “You were there, when my mom came over. And I said Jungkook wasn’t dating. You guys must’ve just been laughing at how much of an idiot I was.”

“You know I wasn’t.”

“No, I don’t know that.” Sumi gave him a forced smile.

“Noona, please don’t leave.” Jungkook was there, trying to pull the bag off her shoulder. “I’ll...I’ll explain everything. I’ll break up with YinYin. Just please don’t.”

“Don’t you dare break up with her.” Sumi swallowed. “You made her lie for you. So don’t throw her under the bus just because I found out.”

“Stay.” He repeated.

Sumi just shook her head. “Not this time.”

And she walked out the door.

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

handmaid - 29

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: when you quote west side story you do know things are not about to get any better *nervous laughter* hope you enjoy this chapter x

NEXT CHAPTER

The environment was calm with baby blue and white walls. The only sounds existing in the room being that of the machines beeping and the small breathing sounds coming from the two people in the bedroom. It was quiet, very quiet, but the quietness only contributed to the peaceful nature of the hospital bedroom.

The slight beeping of the door being opened caused the attention of the French woman to leave from her newborn daughter to the man who had just came in holding a bouquet of white lilies.

- I didn’t know what type of flowers would be suitable for someone who just gave birth. - he smiled, taking a seat on the cushioned chair by her bed. - How are my girls?

- I am alright. Ella’s just been sleeping, I think that’s all she does. - the baby sleep peacefully against her chest, lightly suckling on her mother’s pinkie finger without a single care in the world. - Do you know when we can go home? It’s becoming a bit tiring to be in here.

- Robin. - the man sighed. - It’s safer for you to be here than to be home. We cannot return home until we’re certain that no harm can come to you or to Ella.

- But we got extra security besides ... I sense something bad is coming.

- That is just your “momma bear” coming out. You’re safe here, there’s staff and security everywhere.

- I hope you’re right. - she sighed, looking at the baby. - I really hope you’re right.

Y/N stared at him with the sort of curiosity one does whenever confronted with a hard choice. She could just end it, she could just put a stop to it and spare Gwen the pain and shame of being cheated on before she even got married, spare Sebastian and her the childish illusions that everything would be okay. She could just end it, she could just run away and start somewhere new but something always stopped it. Turns out, she couldn’t just end it, she couldn’t just stop falling more and more in love with him, she couldn’t just pretend she could just leave and things would be alright. So once again, she’d rather pretend that everything is alright, everything’s fine.

She took a step towards him, her shoe front hitting his ever so slightly before she wrapped her arms around him, hiding her head in the space between his shoulder and neck, inhaling his cologne. Sebastian relished and relaxed in her embrace, kissing the crown of her head in means to comfort her.

- Stay. - he mumbled through her hair, holding her tightly in his arms as if she would fade into air if his grip loosened. Y/N on the other hand was again trying to convince herself that there was a place for them, somewhere in time a place where there could be together without any other external factors. Nevertheless, that place filled with quiet and open air seemed to be nowhere near as breaking through those thoughts were the distant sounding laughter and chatting of people inside the dinning hall celebrating his engagement. Her gaze moved from the room to his face, to his beautiful eyes who stared into her with a look of pure naive hope. - Angel, I ...

- Mr. Stan? - the two of them left the embrace as someone got closer to the balcony, calling out for him. Her gaze left his to stare at her shoes, shifting her weight from side to side as one of his lesser associates came into the balcony, giving the handmaid a dirty look. - There are some people inside trying to congratulate you.

- I’ll be right with you, I just need t ...

- No, it’s alright. Go. - Y/N interrupted him, giving him a simple characteristic smile. She didn’t want to be the reason why he got himself in trouble and she also didn’t want to make it seem like they were intimate to the rest of the world. Sebastian, however, took a double take, wondering if he should stay and finish his sentence but the associate keeping on calling made him leave her there in the balcony.

The handmaid just sighed, leaning against the railing of the balcony, head heavy with various concerns that probably should’ve weight on her decision back when she decided to get together with him. Before she could decide what else to do, Mr. Dubois had joined her in the balcony, offering her one of the champagne flutes that seemed to float around the party. Despite not being in the mood to drink, she decided to accept it anyway.

- So, a handmaid? Pardon my curiosity, I have never met one in my whole life. What does it entail?

- It’s the same thing as medieval time handmaids. You’re by the heiress’ side making sure she’s happy. - it was an over-explanation of what her job truly entailed but Y/N didn’t have enough time to completely go through what being a handmaid truly was like. - You mentioned the Deschamps. Excuse me asking but I’ve been in this environment since I was younger and I never heard about that mob family.

- Oh they’re not a mob family. The Deschamps aren’t part of the mob however they are rich, they had money even after the French Revolution. They own more New York real state than the Stans so they normally make an appearance at every single event.

- I thought the Stans owned all of the Upper East Side.

- They wished. - he scoffed. - I remember a time when one of the mob families tried to get an engagement with a Deschamps. Can’t remember her name, though. Rosemarie, maybe.

- Never heard of it. - Y/N shrugged. - Enjoying the party so far?

- I didn’t expect Genevieve Forrest to be that frivolous. It’s nothing like her father.

- She’s young.

- You can only blame so much on age, Miss Y/N.

The talk was mostly void of interest, just a polite dance she used to do with anyone and everyone who spoke to her. Once the part became too much for her to handle, she took back to her bedroom sitting down in her bed with various questions going through her mind. Her eyes quickly gazed over her laptop laying on top of her suitcase. She shouldn’t, this was just putting herself deeper and deeper down a hole that kept bringing her more sleepless nights. Yet, as per usual, Y/N did not stop herself and soon enough she found herself with her laptop on her lap, Google on as she typed that very spoke about name. Deschamps. As she finished typing that name and pressed enter several pictures showed up along with a bit of information. Turns out Mr. Dubois was right, they were rich, filthy rich and by the look of it, mostly based in Saint-Nom-La-Bretèch. As she went through the pictures, one of them caught her attention as in the picture stood quite a big crowd of people but one woman in particular standing at the front shared a significant resemblance to the Robin woman that had kept showing on Sebastian’s and Mr. Forrest’s attic. However, the golden necklace that now laid in the middle of Y/N’s collarbones was missing from the woman’s neck in the picture.

Curiously, Y/N clicked the link connected to the photo which led to an article about the acquisition of the Metropolitan Opera House in New York. The picture on the article had a legend and as she went through, she reached the name of the only woman in the figure; Rosemarie Deschamps, the eldest daughter of Michael Deschamps. Surprised, Y/N closed her laptop forcefully, hiding behind her duvet like a scared child. It was just in her mind, it was just in her mind, she didn’t need to know, why did she need to know. Even if she was related to the Deschamps she was probably a bastard child whom the Forrests took pity on.

With those thoughts, she dozed off to sleep. Between all of this and her relationship with Sebastian she didn’t exactly know how she could sleep peacefully and throughout the night she kept somehow waking up in cold sweats. When she finally managed to have more than just a few minutes of sleep around sunrise, a loud knock followed by her name being screamed in a high pitched female voice took her right off her sleeping state. Great. Through her sleepiness, she mumbled for however it was at the door to come in. In came Gwen dressed like a Givenchy model in a harsh shade of green and white.

- Y/N, I need a favour. - she sat on the edge of her bed. - I have my wedding dress fitting today but I really can’t be asked besides Christian and I were thinking about going for brunch.

- We’re not the same size. - Y/N mumbled against her pillow, sleep trying to fight through her awareness.

- Just check if the dress is okay. C’mon Y/N. - Gwen pulled the duvet away from her. - Please, I covered for you.

- Okay.

Gwen clapped in excitement before pulling the handmaid up to her bedroom which was filled to the brim with people carrying needles and threads along with various swatches of fabric. Before Y/N could question what was happening, she was brought by one of the woman to stand in front of the mirror while another one opened a white box pulling out Gwen’s wedding dress. Gwen was nowhere to be seen, probably already left and before Y/N could even check for that, the dress was being pushed down her, sitting a bit too loose. Her eyes glued to the mirror as she saw herself in the wedding dress, the white fabric almost glistening with the light. It was a beautiful dress, mostly made out of fabric.

- Genevieve, we need to spe ... - Y/N turned around at the different voice that came from the door. Sebastian was leaning against it, almost sure his eyes were playing tricks on him as he observed Y/N dressed in bridal fashion. - Angel, what are you doing here?

- Gwen asked me to cover for her. - she didn’t even lie anymore, instead facing him with the truth that he would probably hear from everyone else. - Is it important?

- PR bullshit, if you ask me. - he took a step towards her, fully inspecting the gown wrapped around the handmaid. - You look stunning.

- It’s not my dress. - she forcefully smiled, not sure if she should cry or not. It wasn’t everyday that you get dressed in the wedding dress belonging to the woman who’s about to get married to the man she was hopelessly in love with.

Yet again, she kept digging herself a hole which she wasn’t sure she could ever come out from.

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ramblinganthropologist · 3 years

Text

Fictober 21 - 4 “Fine I give up”

Fanfiction

Fandom: Mass Effect (Actor AU)

Summary: Yep. They fucked - so much for his self control, huh? Now Macen has to deal with the fallout, and more importantly, his feelings. Maybe it wasn’t just sex after all. Did he mention he was bad at ad-lib?

(Don’t worry folks, the confession will come another day... I’m tired, lol.)

---

…

You know that part where he said he was going to break things off? Yeah… the opposite of that had happened.

Macen was careful to sit up as he glanced across the darkened room. Next to him, fast asleep and burrowed under the covers, was his costar. Alex’s face was peaceful as he wandered through his dreams, like he hadn’t just fucked the turian within an inch of his life. Baby faces were damn deceptive that way, and he was proving to be a fine example.

His body was sore in that way he enjoyed oh so much as he slid out of bed, distributing his weight so he didn’t wake the human up. Naked as the day he was born, he padded to Alex’s shower and got in. Human showers were always too damn cold for him, but it didn’t matter as he let the water pour down his carapace as he stood there, standing at the drain.

“You said you weren’t going to do it again…”

And that promise had crumbled like a sandcastle on the beach the moment Alex had looked at him with that expression. After that, it was a blur of tossed clothing, roving hands, and tongues that were still learning how to play nicely with each other. Part of him was glad he had clipped his talons the day before… but that was like admitting defeat in itself.

Fuck… he had fucked up.

He sighed as he rested his head against the shower wall, praying for the freezing water to snap some sense into him. Macen knew he should leave the moment he was dry and had found his pants, but a large part of him just wanted to go back to bed. They had to be on set early tomorrow. He’d be wasting valuable sleep time if he went back to his place. Besides, Alex was closer…

And they’d risk showing up together.

“No, you’re going home after this. It’ll just mean more coffee tomorrow.”

Yet his voice wavered as he washed the soap disappear down the drain. Even then, he was doubting himself. Right then, it felt like he was fighting a war against an unholy combination of his sex drive and… well he didn’t want to mention the other organ. It shouldn’t have had a say in this in all. Really, if anything, his situation was his brain’s fault. Damn thing had gotten used to the human…

Yeah… he had totally meant his brain.

“Alright, get in there and say goodbye.”

The water shut off and Macen dried off in silence. Still naked, he padded back to the bed. Unsurprisingly, Alex was still fast asleep, hugging a bit of the blanket as he dreamed. He looked so peaceful, that it almost seemed cruel to wake him up.

But… he couldn’t just go without saying anything. They had moved past the fuck and leave point months ago.

“Shit…” Macen’s expletive hissed out from between his teeth as he looked around for his pants. At least those he could find – halfway across the room. What could he say, Alex was an enthusiastic partner. Add in the training, and he had reach. No wonder people kept trying to get him to sign up for friendly biotiball matches. “Just… get them and say goodbye.”

Yet when he reached down, he could see the human’s face better. Something about how soft and quiet he looked did terrible things to his stomach, and his pants dropped to the floor with a soft thump. Unfortunately for him, his belt buckle hit first – the metal clang rang out like a shotgun blast.

Shit…

“Mmm…” Alex rolled onto his stomach and burrowed under the blanket. “S’cold… come back to bed, Macen.”

Now, at the moment the turian was definitely not in a sub headspace. If he had been, that could have explained his compulsion to stay. Yet, there was nothing like that in the moment. Something else was leading him back to the bed he had been trying so hard to avoid. It was a powerful urge, and he had no ability to resist.

“I’m coming…” He slid back in, pulling the cover back over his naked body. As soon as he had settled back in, Alex’s arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him close. He could feel the human’s heart on his back, and it made his beat faster as his mouth went dry. “Alex?”

“Too cold…” Then there was a sleepy yawn as he nuzzled into his back. “Night…”

Macen’s stomach bubbled as he felt himself leaning into the touch. Logic was screaming at him to do anything, but he was ignoring it then. Instead, he felt his eyes slowly close as the warmth of Alex’s body and his off-beat heart lured him back to sleep. In the morning he would regret this, but at the moment he didn’t care. Right then, there was just the bed and the warm embrace of the man he had come to…

He could deal with that thought later. Much later.

---

“They totally came to the set together.”

“Do you think those rumors were true after all?”

Nothing like crew rumors to make Macen regret being born.

It was finally time for some food after a long morning of filming. Just like he had feared, he and Alex had wound up heading to work together. To say people were talking was putting it mildly. He wouldn’t be surprised if it had already wound up on social media, though he had no ability to check. After the last two disasters he called relationships, he had gotten rid of the entire thing.

Honestly, he didn’t miss the memes. Plus, it gave him a mysterious edge. It was good PR.

Still, his carapace itched as he shot the two humans a glare as he passed. He still had enough bad boy reputation that they scattered like ants, but it didn’t do much more than soothe his prickled ego. In that moment, he had probably confirmed everything they had been whispering about.

What… no one had ever claimed he was smart.

“Fuck…” Macen sighed as he found a quiet place to settle in and eat. Doing so with the mandible implants was a little difficult, but he had figured it out with trial and error. It was good he had too – makeup had been getting annoyed with him. Now at least he was back in their good graces, which was what anyone should want in his line of work.

“Yeah, I’d be saying that too if I was you.”

A shadow had fallen over the turian, and he didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. There were only two people on set who went around in all black armor on the regular, and one of them definitely didn’t set him in shade like that. Just the sound of her voice made his stomach drop.

Talk about going from the frying pan to the fire…

Beau took a seat nearby, her eyes laser focused on him. It made it hard for Macen to swallow his lunch, but he did his best. Honestly, it wasn’t the best idea – it felt like he was swallowing concrete. At least it didn’t actually get stuck, but maybe that death would’ve been preferable to whatever she had planned for him. He’d had a good life… mostly…

“Afternoon, Beau…” Even he knew that was a faulty opening, but Macen had committed to the bit. “Can I help you?”

Another glance as she sipped from a can of soda. “Just wondering when you’re going to ask Alex out and get it over with. You two have been dancing around this for way too long.”

Macen was glad he hadn’t been eating at that point – if he had, he would’ve sprayed levo crumbs everywhere, and as far as he knew she was allergic. Instead, he just choked on his own spit and wound up coughing. To say it wasn’t his finest moment was putting it mildly at best, but at the moment it was all he could do.

At least she had enough heart to thump him on the carapace a few times. It wasn’t going to do anything – he wasn’t human – but it was the thought that counted.

“Don’t die on me, Virius. Garrus was a nightmare to find someone for, or at least that’s what I heard.”

He coughed a few more times, eyes watering. Words were hard, but doable. “I’m not… we’re not…”

Yet there was the feelings in his stomach squirming about in the mere mention of the man he more often than not found himself in bed with. He was adult enough to admit they had moved past simple sex, but… this was something else entirely.

And it was a dark, nasty road, one he knew way too well to be comfortable with anymore.

“I see the way you look at each other. Besides, you’re over each other’s places so much you might as well just fucking move in.” When he gaped, Beau added, “We text each other. I can tell when he’s getting laid, his messages stop and then he’s all relaxed after.”

Damn Alex for being so obvious in his tells…

Macen managed to straighten up, but his heart was still pounding. “It’s… complicated, ok?”

“Because you’re making it that way. You were an ass, get over it and get with it before you regret it.” Beau took another sip from her can. “Unless you’re still thinking this is just a sex thing.”

No… even he knew that one. And even thinking of that made him sigh as he hung his head. It was impossible to ignore the feelings that had been plaguing him for quite some time. To admit it was, in a way, admitting defeat in a war against himself. It was one he had tried to win for so long, yet he was seeing the last of his defenses crumble with every touch, every smile, every time Alex so much as looked at him.

He may have been a turian… but he knew he was beaten.

“Alright, fine … I give up.” His mandibles twitched. “I like the guy, ok?”

Part of him had expected the words to taste bitter on his tongue. Defeat was supposed to be something like that, and yet it was the complete opposite. Macen was surprised to find he felt lighter with just a few words. Of course, that didn’t last long – as soon as there was room, worry filled the place denial had once been.

He never got a fucking moment’s rest.

Beau shook her head as she put her can down. “I hope your delivery’s better when you tell him, Virius. How the hell did you get an award for acting?”

“I never said I was good at ad lib.” Despite everything, he snorted. It was a little bitter and self-depreciating, but it was still a laugh. “That’s going to take more work. I have no idea what to say to him.”

Something about this made him feel like a stupid teenager again, crushing on the cute boy in his class before either of them wound up in basic. He was far too old for something like this, and yet the feelings were so familiar he couldn’t deny it. Despite how hard he had tried, he had damn well caught feelings for Alex.

Well… at least his taste had improved. The guy in his math class had turned out to be a real dickhead.

“That I can’t help you with, Virius.” Beau stood, once again enveloping him in shadow. “But, lucky for you he’s coming this way. Time to work on those ad-lib skills.”

In that moment, Macen could have sworn she smirked as she left him behind to go fuck with someone else’s day. Even worse, she was right – he could see Alex in the distance and judging by the speed he had been spotted by the human and was now being targeted.

Shit… he hadn’t been kidding. He had always been terrible at ad-lib. But… there was no way out of this except through it. All he could do was brace himself for impact and hope he didn’t get tossed like a biotiball during a champion match.

For all he knew, Alex was capable of that now. Wouldn’t that be a way to go… death by being yeet’d by his crush into a wall. Well, there were worse ways he supposed…

Fuck, he so wasn’t ready for this. Fuck…

#fictober21 #ramblinganthropologist's writing #shakarian #the actor AU

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dissoluteways · 3 years

Text

positions

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Chapter I

PAIRING: Hyuk/OC RATING: PG WARNINGS: Office AU. WORDCOUNT: 5010

Notes: This is the enourmous fic I’ve been writing for MONTHS, and i am not joking. First of all: this is chaptered, it’s gonna probably be 4 chapters only. I’ve already written 99% of it, I’ll porbably be posting every chapter once a week or so, depending on how i feel. Second of all, there is no warning for this one, there is not even a kiss in this first chapter. And i guess the only warning would be that, this is boss/employee relationship? But everyone if over 20 here so. If it still bothers you, don’t read it. Now yes, go ahead and enjoy c:

❧

“Since you told me you were looking for a new assistant, I hope you don’t mind I told someone I know about the job.” Hakyeon told her, while he was visiting her office during lunch time. They would usually eat out, that day it was raining though.

“Oh, that’s cool, I don’t actually have that many applicants though, but I look forward to meeting him.”

Hakyeon smiled at her, while eating a cherry tomato.

Moments like that made it seem like being an editor in a magazine was easy. Hakyeon was a genius though; he was a manager in marketing and he was amazing at that, mainly because he was so social and charming. She could never do what he did.

Her job, in the meantime, was being a beauty editor. When there wasn't a deadline or if there weren’t any kind of issues running around that day, it was certainly a dream job. The amount of products she got from PR and the events she could attend were ideal. It was tiring at times but she wouldn’t change it. She enjoyed the process of dolling herself up.

But she really needed extra help. It has been a month without an assistant, and she finally understood why she even needed one in the first place.

“His name is Han Sanghyuk. Just be nice to him, okay, he has never worked in a magazine before,” Hakyeon informed her, taking back his things and getting ready to walk out to go back to his own office.

It wasn’t going to be the first time she interviewed a young boy for the job.

Though actually meeting and interviewing people she didn’t know was boring if she was honest. They were mostly young girls with no prior jobs, but who were eager to work and get into fashion. They were cute, they reminded her a bit of herself when she was just starting. And there were a couple of people with actually impressive curriculums, some of which were even older than she was (it made her feel slightly uncomfortable that they would have to work for her).

She almost forgot Hakyeon told her someone he knew was going to be there for the job until she was about to save all the résumés and close the door, and she almost bumped into a boy just outside her office.

“Oh, sorry!” She had to stare up to actually see his face, and she couldn’t help but point out his height. “Wow, you’re really tall.”

“Thank you, I guess.” He seemed kind of awkward, and nervous.

“Are you here for the model job? That’s actually on the other side of the corridor.”

“No, I’m actually for the assistant job.” He handed her two pieces of paper. It was a really short curriculum.

“Oh… Oh, okay, come on in.”

She walked in before him, and looked at him when she sat down in her chair. He had the face of a baby, with cheeks she could pinch, and hair she could fluff. And she had the need of booping his nose. Her heart was actually jumping inside her chest.

By the way he was frowning and looking at her curiously, she noticed she had been staring for maybe way too long.

“Sorry, sorry… Can you tell me your name?”

“Han Sanghyuk.”

“Oh, you’re Hakyeon’s friend, right?”

“‘Friend’ would imply we are the same age,” He pointed out.

“Yeah, how old are you? Do you even have the right age to start working, it seems to me that you should be in high school. If it weren’t for how tall you are.”

“I’m almost 24,” He smiled at her. Her heart jumped once again.

“You’re a baby,” She said without thinking. He started chuckling and she couldn’t help but smile. “Tell me about your previous jobs.”

“I had mostly summer jobs, at fast food restaurants, as a shop assistant, and as usher in local cinemas.” She must have pulled some kind of face, and she felt bad because he got nervous again and she noticed. “I know it’s not impressive, but I’m almost done with my university studies, and I’m eager to learn.”

“Well you’re the last person I’m interviewing, and I’m going to think about it before hiring anyone. I’ll let you know, alright?” She smiled at him reassuringly.

He bowed slightly before standing up. His face might scream baby, but the rest of his body was big for sure, and he really seemed like a man. She tried not to stare at him once he walked out the door.

She had been set on the idea of hiring someone with experience, but she didn’t know then. Sanghyuk was just so cute and handsome. And it wasn’t part of the requirement for the job, but she couldn’t help it; it would be nice to have such a cute face waiting for her every time she arrived at her office.

And she even had to look at his picture every time she checked his resumé. Damn it.

When it was time to leave for her place, she stopped by Hakyeon’s office, ready to talk about that issue with him. He was gay, he would understand.

“How could you not tell me Sanghyuk was so cute?”

“Hello to you too,” He was closing his office, ready to leave as well, and he seemed a bit taken aback by her question. “What are you talking about?”

“Sanghyuk. You sent him to my office and didn’t tell me he was cute and tall and handsome. I wasn’t ready.” She knew she sounded way more stressed than she actually was. But had she been a few years younger, she would have definitely made a move on him.

Hakyeon smiled at her in a knowing way, and she glared at him.

“When I bet with Taekwoon if you would like him or not, I didn’t expect to be right, but I guess I just made fifty bucks.”

She hit him on the shoulder not too hard, but strong enough to hurt him.

“I wanted someone with experience, but now I just want him,” She whined, walking alongside him to the main entrance. “What do I do?”

“Well, I know for a fact that Sanghyuk is really hardworking, I assure you he won’t blow it, he really wants to learn.”

She sighed. At least that was something.

“But you can’t sleep with him, it wouldn’t look good that you’re sleeping with someone below you.”

“What if he’s on top?”

Hakyeon glared at her, and she grinned at her own clever choice of words.

“How do you even know him, by the way? He’s five years younger than us.”

“You remember I give dance classes, right? He’s one of my students there.”

Interesting. He must have been bendy then. That was going to be a much harder choice to make.

She didn’t really want to overthink it too much. Sanghyuk was hardworking, Hakyeon said, and he wanted to learn and was almost done with his studies. Maybe this was his chance. Maybe he would be a great assistant. And she could also admire him from up close in the meantime. That was really just a plus.

When she called him back a couple of days later, she was, once again, taken aback by how cute he was. And how tall as well. She wore heels every day and still only reached his shoulder.

“So your job is mostly following me around and basically helping me with whatever I need for the magazine.” She explained to him after Sanghyuk had signed his contract, ready to start his first day. “I’m a beauty editor, so I deal with makeup products and creams and skin care. You have to help me with that.”

Sanghyuk was nodding enthusiastically to everything she was saying, and making sounds like he understood, with wide open eyes.

“If you have any doubts you can ask me, since it’s your first time working for a magazine, I’ll try to help you.” She smiled at him soothingly. He returned the smile, and her heart melted in her chest. She wanted to pinch his cheeks. “We have to check the new PR products for the next edition, so let’s get going.”

Sanghyuk followed her without questions.

“Oh, by the way,” She turned to Sanghyuk, who was walking right behind her. She blushed a little when he suddenly looked up at her face; his eyes were seriously a little more south than that before. “You’re supposed to write down the things we might need or the ones we might use from the products.”

“Oh, alright,” Sanghyuk took out his phone.

There was a serious generation gap if the last assistant she had still used notepads for those things.

When they got to the PR room, Sanghyuk actually made a cute surprised sound, she couldn’t help but giggle.

“All this for makeup?” He asked her in a low voice.

“No,” She laughed, walking to the section where they got the new products, “This is also for skin care products.”

Sanghyuk wasn’t probably impressed by the difference, but he was going to learn while he was there.

Checking the PR products was fun if it wasn’t for the new guy that started sending them in. She didn’t remember his name, she didn’t care at all, mainly he has been asking her out for a while and it was annoying to say no every time. It was borderline harassment at that point. Out of all the gay guys out there that delivered beauty products, she had to get the one that was straight and annoying.

And there he was, unpacking brand new boxes right at the end of the room. She sighed loudly before approaching, Sanghyuk still right behind her.

“What’s new today?” She asked, very aware her voice was cold and detached.

“The usual brands send in the same stuff,” The delivery guy replied, dropping big boxes on the table by her side. “There’s a new makeup line from Revlon as well. But maybe we should talk more about that at night.”

She closed her eyes right after he had winked at her. Breathing in, she ignored his advance and checked the label on each box instead, trying to focus on what she was going to work with instead.

“Come on, for how long are you going to ignore me?”

“Sanghyuk, can you write down all the labels of these boxes?” She suddenly turned to him. His eyebrows were surprisingly furrowed, but he nodded immediately. She then turned and faced the delivery guy once again. “Please, I already said no. Every time you asked, actually.”

“I know girls like to play hard to get. And you’re quite the catch.” He smirked. She felt like puking.

“I’ll go check the skin care products.” She sighed, facing Sanghyuk. “Find me once you’re done.”

Walking away, she tried inhaling and exhaling to calm herself down. After months of the same routine, it was frustrating to have to deal with the same dumbass every week.

“You have to write on a file all the products that we recorded today, then send it to me.” Once they were done with the PR unboxing and labelling, they went back to her office, as she explained to him what the rest of his day should be. “I might get a call from other departments today, like marketing, so you should pick up the phone every time.”

“Noted.” Sanghyuk agreed without question.

She looked at him over her shoulder when they got to her office. He was writing everything down on his phone. It was adorable.

After a few days, Sanghyuk quickly adapted to working as an assistant. He was far more organized and mindful than she expected, she was happily surprised. At least she didn’t feel bad about hiring him just for his looks; turned out he’s an excellent worker.

The only con of having him there, was still the fact that her crush on him hadn’t faded away. If anything, it grew bigger. His hard work and the way he applied himself to the task at hand only made him more attractive; suddenly he didn’t seem so young anymore.

On monday morning, exactly a week after she hired him, she caught herself staring at him from her seat behind her desk. She could see him from there, his desk almost across from hers in the other room. If he were to lean back on his chair, she wouldn’t see him, but he was writing on the computer so she could easily stare at his face. She still had the need to boop his nose.

That was the day they had to go again to check the new PR products. Sighing loudly, she got up and walked out.

“It’s PR day, let’s go, Sanghyuk.”

“Alright, boss.”

He got the habit of calling her boss. It was cute; she loved it.

She was still dreading going to PR. Whenever she thought about it, it was still the reason she didn’t like going to work on mondays. It was taking a toll on her overall mental health, making her anxious and nervous.

Trying to somehow conceal it, she breathed in deeply as she walked into the PR room, Sanghyuk still following right behind.

“Hello, sugar.” It was the same delivery guy, and she felt sick when those words came out of his mouth.

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Still saying no to my invitation?”

He was smirking again, so she turned and faced Sanghyuk. It surprised her to see the look on his face, between annoyance and exasperation, his eyebrows once again furrowed.

“Um, could you please write down all the stuff we got, Sanghyuk?”

“Sure.” His expression softened a little, as he got out his phone and started taking pictures of the boxes’ label.

“Want to go out after this, darling?” The guy kept making advances; she really didn’t want to stand that in that moment.

“I’ll wait for you outside.” She tapped Sanghyuk on the shoulder and walked away quickly.

It was incredibly frustrating having to deal with that. Especially because she loved her job. She had to deal with men her whole life; like every woman did, she knew that. It was upsetting there certainly wasn’t a way out of this.

While waiting for Sanghyuk, Hakyeon walked past, which helped her get her mind out of upsetting thoughts.

“Hey!” He greeted, patting her shoulder. “How’s it going?”

“Fine.” She cleared her throat, just as Hakyeon looked inside the PR room.

“Shouldn’t you be in there, with Sanghyuk? Guiding him?” He sounded concerned.

“Yeah, I guess.” She looked inside as well. Sanghyuk was working hard as always, looking at the label of each box, and checking inside to see if everything was good. The delivery guy was still leaving some boxes on a table, and they seemed to be exchanging words. “It’s that guy again.”

“He keeps bothering you?” Hakyeon turned to her, worried. “I wish you would report him to Human Resources.”

“No, that’s such a mess. Besides, they would probably fire him if they decide to believe what I say about him.” She kept looking at Sanghyuk, not really wanting to face Hakyeon and his well-meaning concern.

“Um…” He looked at Sanghyuk as well, following her gaze. “How is Sanghyuk doing?”

“He’s great!” The expression on her face must have changed drastically, she could tell by the look on Hakyeon’s own face. “He’s really good at learning, and so organized. I adore him.”

“I can tell. You look smitten with him.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“You know you can’t-”

“I know, Hakyeon!” She replied, irritated. It’s not like she was going to try anything. “Don’t worry, I’m not thinking about doing anything about it.”

“Hey, Hyogi!” Hakyeon smiled brightly once Sanghyuk approached the exit.

“Hyung,” Sanghyuk looked embarrassed at the nickname, but still smiled softly. “What’s up?”

“She was telling me that you’re really hardworking. She likes you.”

She turned her head abruptly to glare at him. What the heck was he saying? What the heck was he going to say?

“Yeah…” Sanghyuk looked at her for a split second before turning his gaze back at Hakyeon. “Yeah, I really like it here.”

“Great!” Hakyeon smiled, knowingly. She wondered what was going through his head, wishing he would leave just in case he decided to say anything else. “I should get going now, I’ll see you at lunch.”

Hakyeon patted her shoulder again before walking away down the corridor. She sighed loudly, relieved.

“I guess I’m doing a good job if you like me.” Sanghyuk commented, casually.

“Yeah… Yeah, I mean… organizational skills are a turn on.” Those words came out of her mouth long before she could think about it, and she couldn’t help how hard she face-palmed herself.

“Really?” He looked surprised, raising an eyebrow, while he looked down at her.

“Yeah. Let’s get going now.” She started walking immediately so as not to face him, knowing very well she was blushing.

She promised Hakyeon not to do anything about her crush on Sanghyuk, somehow that task was more difficult than she thought it was going to be as time went by. It was weird because she never really asked a guy out. But now that she wanted to, she shouldn’t.

It was logical the company would have a policy against dating coworkers. It was to avoid harassment and any kind of abuse in power. But it was so hard to do it when Sanghyuk was just so cute and big.

It was particularly bad for her heart when one day she walked into her office after lunch, to find Sanghyuk wearing one of those sleeveless shirts that were so cut anyone could see his chest. He was bent over, looking for something inside his sports bag, and a lot of skin was showing through. He was all sweaty as well; he had been working out and she couldn’t help but gasp loudly at the whole picture as soon as she saw him.

“Sorry, boss,” He apologized, quickly grabbing a hoodie. “I was going to take a shower and change before you got back from lunch.”

“It’s alright.” Her voice was small and breathless, and she was holding her hand to her chest like she was about to have a heart attack.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asked, looking concerned, putting the hoodie aside as he got closer to her to check her out.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” She backed up, trying to put some distance. He looked confused, and she felt a little guilty for pulling away like that. “I just… I had a bad bagel for lunch.”

That seemed to be enough for him, since he nodded before grabbing his bag and his hoodie and leaving right after. She sighed loudly, covering her face.

It was embarrassing stuff like that startled her since she was a grown woman, but Sanghyuk had that effect on her, apparently. And she had even seen him with that shirt. He was no longer that adorable, suddenly.

Sanghyuk, on the other hand, didn’t actually seem that interested in her. Other than the fact that sometimes she was wearing a too tight skirt, he looked at her a little longer than usual. But then again, even Hakyeon did that. So many men around her did that, it certainly didn’t mean anything to her. Somehow, that created a barrier that made her feel safer. She had to get over her crush, since obviously, nothing was going to happen between them.

“So you think he doesn’t like you?” Taekwoon, Hakyeon’s boyfriend, asked her one night.

It was later that week, on friday. The three of them were having dinner after both her and Hakyeon left their work building. It’s been a while since she met up with both of them, and she really missed Taekwoon.

“He probably likes me as his boss,” She replied, almost bored, leaning her head on one hand. She took a bite of the apple crumble she asked for dessert before elaborating. “He’s always nice to me, but then again he’s nice to everyone. I’m happy with just getting along with him.”

“But you’d like to get a piece of that.”

She almost choked with a piece of apple when those words left Taekwoon’s mouth. His expression was completely deadpan, made him look completely serious when he said that, but the absurdity of those words were kind of funny. Hakyeon was sitting right next to him, and he looked at him with wide eyes, as he tried not to even smile.

“Are you really asking me that?” She wiped her mouth carefully, at the same time trying to hide her blushing face.

“I guess we already know the answer then.” Said Hakyeon, casually.

“I don’t- I mean-” She pursed her lips. Her face was positively on fire. “Yeah, I would.”

“Do you want help?” Hakyeon asked, completely serious.

“Yeah, I’d like help ordering another apple crumble.”

“No, dummy,” Hakyeon hit her gently on the arm. “Help with Hyogi.”

She blinked, until she realized what he was implying.

“No way. No fucking way.” She glared at him.

There’s no way Cha Hakyeon was meddling into this. He wasn’t so subtle in any way. He might even spoil the good, professional relationship she had with Sanghyuk.

“But I have good inside information, I could-”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Hakyeon!” She tried to keep her voice down, but certainly failed. “Didn’t you also say that he was my assistant and it was inappropriate?”

“That was before you fell in love with him.” He said, matter-of-factly. “I thought maybe you just wanted to sleep with him.”

Her face flushed harder than before.

“And I figured, after your last experience with younger men, maybe you wouldn’t fall this time…” His voice was small, like he didn’t know if he should be commenting on that.

She bit her lip. It’s true, her previous relationship was with a younger man, only three years younger, but turned out he was mentally ten years younger. And she had a hard time with all his partying and going out with other girls. She didn’t want to compare though. She didn’t really know Sanghyuk that much.

“I still don’t want you to butt in on this.”

She knew Hakyeon was not going to pay any attention to her and still will try to somehow help her with Sanghyuk. She really wished he didn’t.

When she was walking home, she passed by a couple of opened bars and restaurants. Luckily she lived near the work building, around eight blocks, so she never had to take the subway or anything. That area was also around the nightlife district, so it was always full of bars and little clubs, open until early in the morning.

She wasn’t really expecting to run into Sanghyuk right there.

He was coming out of a bar, with his phone on his hand, and the same bag he carried when he went to work every day. And still wearing the same clothes he wore that day earlier.

“Sanghyuk!”

He quickly turned, following the sound of her voice. He had to look down, and she almost blushed. The height difference was really one of her weaknesses.

“Boss,” He smiled brightly. She could melt right there.

“You don’t have to call me that, we are not at work anymore.” She smiled back at him, genuinely.

“Alright, noona.” He grinned, youthful.

Oh, no. This was bad.

“What are you doing here?” Sanghyuk asked, curious.

“I just had dinner with Hakyeon and his boyfriend.” She approached him a little more. The street was rather busy, and people were passing by in a rush.

“You know Taekwoon-hyung?” He looked surprised, for some reason.

“Yeah, of course, I met them both in college.” She eyed him, trying hard not to make it look like she was actually checking him out. Which she was. “How do you know him?”

“He goes to Hakyeon-hyung’ studio sometimes. They are rather gross.”

“Gross?” She laughed. She knew what he meant but still wanted the information.

“Yeah, Taekwoon-hyung is kinda shy, but Hakyeon-hyung isn’t, so there's a lot of PDA.” He pulled a face full of disgust. It was incredibly funny. And cute.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I take it as a comedy show every time I get to watch them be around each other.” She giggled. Hakyeon was really overbearing, and somehow Taekwoon fell in love with him, when he’s the exact opposite. Though she noticed Taekwoon started taking the certain qualities that had nothing to do with him at the beginning, like the clinginess. It was endearing.

“Yeah, it’s fun to watch them.�� Sanghyuk agreed, mimicking her giggle.

“So what are you doing here?” She asked, starry-eyed.

“I work here.” He pointed to the bar he was just coming out from. “I only do it on Friday and Saturday nights though. Rather work at the magazine than here, to be honest.”

She tried not to sigh loudly.

“That’s great, glad you like working with me.”

He flashed her a smile. She almost gasped.

“Are you going somewhere?” He asked.

“Just home.”

“By yourself? Are you taking the subway? Or the train?”

She blinked at the amount of questions he was suddenly asking.

“No, I’m just walking there.” His eyebrows furrowed slightly, not the way he did it those last few times she saw him doing that, but just a little to make him look concerned. “It’s just some blocks away from here.”

“I’ll walk with you.” Sanghyuk looked completely serious. And she really liked that. But she wasn’t going to let him do something that was slightly inappropriate; she was his boss after all.

“It’s really okay, I walk home every night.”

He looked even more serious, if not pissed. She swallowed; she knew she was going to start blushing at any moment.

“I can walk you to your place, noona.” He wasn’t asking; it was a statement.

She swallowed again before nodding.

She couldn’t say no. Not after that. She was only human after all, and with his face, completely serious and slightly annoyed at the fact that she walked home alone every time, she wouldn’t turn him down.

“So you have two jobs,” She commented, once they started walking in her direction. Sanghyuk followed along, right by her side. “Do you have time to study?”

“I use every free time I have left for studying.” He replied, while making way for both of them among the crowd.

It was friday night after all, but with Sanghyuk, he was so tall and big, people moved to the side in a second. She was amazed.

“I used to work all weekend as well, but I just want to focus on finishing my major now, so I just work friday and saturday nights.”

“You never told me what you were majoring in.”

“Music.” He looked at her and smiled cheerfully. “I want to be a composer one day.”

Oh, that was cute again.

“You seem to be working hard for that,” She smiled back at him, sincerely. “I’m sure you are going to be a great composer.”

Sanghyuk beamed with complacency. Her heart skipped a beat.

Talking to him wasn’t any different than talking to Hakyeon or Taekwoon. She didn’t actually notice their age difference. He seemed mature for his age. Especially because of all the jobs he had and everything he studied, he didn’t seem the type of guy who went out to parties. He didn’t even seem to have time to have friends.

He asked her about her life later on. Which was uneventful, she didn’t really have much to comment on. She sometimes hung out with Hakyeon, sometimes with other friends from high school. She hadn't had a date in almost two years. She refused to. But she didn’t tell him that.

“This is where I live.” She signalled to the building that was across the street, about six blocks from where they met.

“I’ll walk you there.” He said without any sign of doubt.

“Okay.” Sanghyuk wasn’t looking at her, only focusing on checking if any car was coming from either side, and she was glad because her face was flushing.

They crossed the street, walking a few feets until they reached the building’s entrance. She turned to face him; he was looking at the building, checking it out, with his mouth half-opened. The building was slightly fancy, it looked very well kept, and might as well be new. Her income allowed her to pay for it, and she was content.

“Thank you for walking me here, Sanghyuk.” She smiled at him and bowed slightly, as a thank you.

“It’s alright,” He returned her smile, bowing as well. “I’ll see you on monday, noona.”

“Can you text me when you get home?” She asked, genuinely worried.

He blinked at her, taken aback. He was big and certainly didn’t seem like a child, but she was still worried. She didn’t exactly know where he lived.

“Sure.” He smiled once more, before waving and walking away, towards the same direction they came from.

She hid under the entrance, and watched him walk away. She couldn’t see past the driveway. Hopefully he lived nearby.

Around twenty minutes later, she got a text from Sanghyuk, telling her he got home safely, and saying he hoped to see her on monday. She sighed loudly, hoping to see him next week as well.

She told herself that night that it was really dumb to fall in love with her assistant; yet at the same time, she didn’t really care. She was letting herself fall, on purpose. It was probably the idea she had that maybe this guy wasn’t so bad. All her impressions of him were good. He didn’t seem to have anything bad going on. The only con was that he didn’t seem interested in a relationship.

Decided to not overthinking it anymore, she tried to rest the weekend, and just let things flow.

#vixx scenarios #vixx scenario #vixx imagines #vixx fanfic #vixx fanfiction #vixx hyuk #han sanghyuk #vixx #sanghyuk

16 notes · View notes

harry-sussex · 3 years

Note

This:

I don't doubt that the vision I've always had of him is at least partially curated - that's the nature of being a public figure. William and Kate aren't 100% the personalities they have in public, I'm sure - granted, none of us are. But I flat out refuse to believe that it was all fake

I also believe he is genuinely like Diana in his childish love and openness, and the way crowds respond to him is also real, which is why it is more baffling and sad that he now appears to be this vindictive, petty person.

I wonder if his PR people don’t know how to take advantage of his qualities and charm and instead he is creating this narrative of suffering that doesn’t sit well with the majority of us commoners without a mansion or a trust fund in this endless pandemic.

You would think those PR agents know how to extract the best qualities of their clients and turn it into positive public image. I want to scream at them that they are not giving him the right advice. He really is the wrong spokesperson for racism and that interview was a big mistake. Sorry. Just my opinion.

Or do you think they give him advice and he doesn’t listen?

The crowds used to adore when he was nothing but an overgrown, goofy kid who happened to be a prince who wore his heart on his sleeve, whose openness and softness and spunk made him different from literally everyone else in the family. He was their wildcard - there was no telling when he'd break off to go make a baby laugh, or kiss an old lady's cheek, or give someone a giant bear hug. Sure, it could have been a curated image, but I refuse to believe he's talented enough an actor to have made a false persona stick for 20 years. Whether or not he really was that bright light or if this vindictive, petty persona was always hiding there is completely irrelevant. They saw one thing, they now see another, and it's a tough pill to swallow.

I can't tell if the PR team just outright sucks, if Harry doesn't listen, or if they're just a team of "yes men" who let the boss do whatever he wants because he's signing the check. He has wonderful qualities and they should be pushing those at the forefront of his public image so that people want to love him again, want to believe him and root for him and his wife. The longer this current strategy lasts, the less likely the public is willing to root for him. Once he loses that, it'll be hard - if not outright impossible - for him to get it back.

I really agree that they are not giving him the right advice. He needs something so different from what he's getting - and that's coming from someone who wants to see him succeed.

I maintain that the interview could have been done tactfully but it wasn't, and tbh a lot of people would have had a lot more sympathy if they pulled it from its original broadcast date and made it wait because Philip was ill. They're just not doing anything right and none of the strategy makes any sense whatsoever. Who let them air an interview complaining about their personal struggles (no matter how legitimate they are) while HM's 99-year-old consort - Harry's beloved grandfather - was recovering from major surgery and on death's doorstep? It's not like they couldn't put two and two together... the public didn't know anything but it's not like Harry didn't get a phone call that said "hey, Grandpa's in the hospital, he's coming home, we have no idea if, when, or how he will recover." Anyone who gets that phone call would and should have pulled the broadcast immediately. To me, that's all on their PR team (and maybe team Oprah too). I don't think Harry could make that call, but that's why he has people who are getting paid millions of dollars to make. him. look. good.

He's not the right person to speak on racism, especially since he hasn't outright acknowledged and apologized for his past indiscretions, no matter who his wife is. She can speak on it - who are we to tell a biracial woman what she can and can't do in this regard? - but he really needs to shut up until he can acknowledge his own past - the Nazi incident, the slurs, the fact that his privilege and position in this life was borne of an institution built on the backs of people of color.

He's getting bad, bad, BAD advice. What a waste of money, sure, but more importantly (to me), what a waste of a wonderful, wonderful man, an asset to this world, a future ally and advocate, a philanthropist and a humanitarian. A beautiful person who could shine and help others shine given the right tools. They're wasting it, they're wasting the magic of Prince Harry, and he deserves better.

#ask #minitafan #prince harry #duke of sussex #phmemoir

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callsignbaphomet · 3 years

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My aunt drove me to the appointment and I was hesitant at first because she is...a stress factor in my life. I know for sure she doesn't mean to be and I'm sure she doesn't even realize she's doing it but it ain't easy talking to her. I feel like my entire family is prone to playing the victim.

Example. A few years ago my aunt planned out a vacation for all of us to go on. The majority of us didn't want to go. It started disastrously bad when my idiot brother wanted to take the long way which here in PR it means going through the middle of the island which meant taking roads that were curves over curves over curves. I get car/motion sickness. I said this aloud. My aunt and my mom have witnessed this first hand. Solution? I gotta drive to avoid throwing up. I didn't want to drive because I didn't know the directions, even then we got super lost, and I was on some medication that forced my p****d out and I didn't wanna go on this vacation but was forced to go (this is me as an adult btw 😐).

So what happened? We had to pull over so I could throw up on the side of the road. I was beyond pissed. The rest of the week went from bad to worse. My sister and her husband insisted that all they wanted to do was go to the beach. I don't like going to the beach, I don't like swimming, I don't like pools, I don't like getting wet. First time at the beach I was on the shore overheating and heavily bleeding and I looked miserable but yeah I'm soooo glad that bitch and her bitch husband had soooo much fun.

Following day they (sister and her husband) wanted to go to another beach. My mom spoke up and said I wouldn't be able to go into the water and didn't think it was fun to just sit at the shore all day. Someone finally remembered me 🙄

So C, who had had enough of the trip since the start had been super quiet and I got a little angry at him for not speaking up either. Turns out he was on the phone searching for interesting things to do in the area aside from going to the fucking beach. So he asked my aunt if he and I could borrow her car. She said okay and during the entire stay all they did was follow my idiot sister from one beach to another, that's ALL they did. Beach hopping.

Meanwhile C and I went to see some weird salt flats, we saw a fuck old lighthouse and befriended some cats, we went to a really old church with an amazingly beautiful garden full of flowers. On the third day we went out to a park and had ice cream. Loooots of ice cream. So all in all C managed to make that disaster better. When he and I got back to the apartment my sister was putting on a show about how C and I didn't wanna spend time with the family.

Dude, I went from 0 to 1 trillion in 1 second and I swear I was gonna lunge at her but C grabbed me basically by the scruff of the neck and held me back and quietly said, "If that's what you think that's a you problem." and we went to take a shower. Which btw only had two temperatures: third degree burn and lava coming out of Satan's butthole. You can imagine how great that felt in the middle of summer in the south side of PR.

Fourth day was an all out disaster cuz my idiot brother, who btw, first day there kicked me and C out cuz he wanted our room cuz it was the only one with ac and he needed it because his crack whore ass was detoxing from some meds. Was yelling and screaming about going to kill himself (read: he wanted something and no one was indulging him so he used the excuse to kill himself to manipulate my mom and aunt to get him what he wanted).

That day was a mess of people pointing fingers and mostly my sister shoving blame everywhere and basically calling out my aunt for making us all go on this vacation when no one else wanted to go.

Drive back was awkward as fuck all with my aunt crying and feeling bad and me and C on damage control. She was super mad that all they did was go to the beach and asked me and C about all we did so we did and tried to make her feel better because my sister told her she has a lot of flaws she needs to work on and now she all boo hoo. Sure, my sister coulda worded it better but I'm glad it happened.

My aunt is one of those "my way or the highway" type of people. She gets set on one thing and noooooothing will change her mind. She constantly hounds me about doing something "productive" with my art. I often just shrug and ignore her but this is constant. I don't sketch in front of her anymore because it's every single time. She also doesn't take social clues, she outright ignores them on purpose. If a subject makes someone uncomfortable she'll keep prying because in her eyes you're probably not working hard enough or doing your best.

On the way to the doctor she brought up art again. I outright told her I wasn't going to do it. I wanted to say not everything has to be about making money but I held on to that one. I told her it was hard to establish a network, that I would be competing with thousands and thousands of people and that it was hard.

All she got outta that was that everything is hard and I'd have to work hard to get out there and establish myself.

Bruh...I was stunned.

So I outright told her no. I don't want to. My art is for peace of mind and she dropped it but I just know she'll bring it up again.

Look. As a hobbyist my art is okay but me charging people for that??? Who the fuck would??? Pay for that???? Jfc.

So we moved on to yet another uncomfortable subject and she said I may have ptsd. Dude...no offense but ya ain't a doctor (thank fuck). So she told me I should check to see a psychologist because then I'd have the tools to handle things better. Fair. I have been thinking about that to see if maybe I can finally get an answer to several things or if maybe I'm making all this dumb shit up in my head. But that was about all the logical shit she said.

She even thinks people are actually not working because they wanna live off unemployment and don't wanna work.

My face went blank. I tried explaining to her that people are protesting unsafe work environments, slave labor/wages, shitty bosses and she heard all of that (granted maybe I could explained it better) and all she said was, "You gotta start somewhere and from there go up".

Then it struck me that of course she'd never understand. This woman NEVER had to work during her entire years of college or even her master's. She has NEVER worked a minimum wage job ever in her entire life. I wanna find articles on what is going on with that and send them to her. She's all of what I said and more but she can sooooometimes see reason. To be honest I'm angry and disappointed in her. She always seemed to adhere to more open minded concepts in terms of society, how differences in generations was good for all of us in general, who's taken to learning what she can about mental illnesses and trauma and so on. She still has much to learn about those last two, she still can't comprehand how me making phone calls scares the fuck outta me, but it's a start? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Idk I just needed to let all of that out. I love her, she's done a lot for me but she's also been a source of stress for me and I can't openly talk to her about anything because she's not easy to talk to. Sorry for the length.

#werewolf howls at dusk

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peachyteabuck · 4 years

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of pleasure ~ act ii, “if we ruled the world”

summary: a sort-of non-avengers au where everyone has their powers and absolutely no one is in a highly powerful mob (or, at least, that’s what the feds think).

or, a commission in three parts for anonymous, who asked for a series about wanda x natasha x reader.

pairing: wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff x reader (focus on natasha romanoff x reader)

words: 3,502

trigger warnings: flashback, angst if you squint, heavy smut, sub!natasha, mention of violence/self doubt, alcohol as a coping mechanism

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

READ ACT I HERE

Natasha awkwardly ushers Wanda out, biting at her nearly-bleeding nail beds and carefully avoiding the wide, prying eyes of the large bodyguards she has stationed outside of her office at all hours. If she were in a more level-headed state she would glare and snap at them and threaten to fire them – she would be Natasha Romanoff, head bitch in charge and a woman whose firey hair gets its color from the blood in her veins.

But she’s not Natasha Romanoff, she’s Nat – a woman who can barely make it to the plush chair behind her desk before memories of the best fuck in her life are pouring over her. She doesn’t know how she remembers so much, but every time she blinks the room looks more and more like the bar you two met in.

It was Natasha’s bar, but it looked nothing like it did now. Then she had just risen in the ranks, was still earning the respect of patrons and those below her. It was a difficult night; Bucky had gotten hurt and Nat was drinking her fears away – desperate to corral them into some corner of her mind instead of letting them run loose.

If she couldn’t protect her best friend, how could she protect the mob? Her hands nearly shook as she took another shot. The assets? The people that had just begun to work under her? Was she meant for this? Was she good enough?

She was on her third vodka tonic of the night when you intervened, taking up the empty barstool to her left. She had seen you before – you were a bartender who was a previous hire but worked hours Natasha was often busy which meant the two of you rarely crossed paths.

“Shouldn’t you be working?” Natasha scoffs, though a little slurred, hoping to avoid something akin to a PR nightmare.

You shrug, replacing her alcoholic drink with a tall glass of water. “Part of my job is making sure the sad drunks don’t do anything they’ll regret later. Now drink some water, I don’t want to clean vomit from the grout of my bar.

“YOUR bar?” Natasha rolls her eyes, her words starting to slur and movements beginning to slow. “Don’t you know this is MY bar?”

You sigh. “When the owner is too drunk to see straight, line of succession dictates it is now my bar.”

Natasha furrows her brow and shakes her head as two of the biggest women you have ever seen carry her out of the establishment and towards her apartment. “…But I’m a lesbian…”

Somehow, through the hazy parts of that night, that incredibly embarrassing memory reigns clear as day.

Natasha’s retching into a toilet she does not recognize in a bathroom she’s never seen before. To be fair, though, she did not have much time to admire/familiarize herself with the décor before she ripped off her shirt and then vomiting up everything from her appendix to her lungs. If she was anything more than a shell of a woman after this night, she’d be the luckiest girl on the face of the Earth.

“Sh…sh, it’s okay,” she hears your voice in the distance and feels your hand on the small of her back. “It’s okay, get it all out.”

When she’s finally done, you hand her a tall class of cold water and many, many painkillers. Natasha understands what to do without prompting – swallowing everything you give her with as much eagerness as a dog finding a pill within a spoonful of peanut butter. Makes the same face, too.

By sheer luck, you get her into your bed without her vomiting on anything. Natasha falls asleep easily, eyes unfocused as they close.

“Thank you,” she mumbles just before falling asleep.

“No problem,” you tell her.

You end up sleeping on the couch a room away, waking up every few hours to check on her. The only time she wakes up is when you’re making breakfast the next morning – eggs and turkey bacon and coffee black as the asphalt Natasha would’ve eaten if you didn’t help her home. You gesture with the spatula in your dominant hand, the other on the handle to keep the pan steady.

“Sit, come eat,” you tell her – voice comforting but direct.

Natasha follows the orders easily, her eyes downcast until you take your place in the chair across from her. Only then does she look up, struggling to avoid your heavy gaze.

“Bad night?” you ask between bites of food.

Natasha sighs, swallowing down her food with coffee. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

She shakes her head. “Nah, not a fan of reliving something I tried to forget.”

“You wanna fuck about it?”

Natasha nearly spits out the remnant of her eggs onto the table. “Are you serious?”

When she meets your eyes, she doesn’t see you laughing or smiling or even about to laugh or smile. All she sees is a beautiful woman offering her sex after what is quite possibly the worst night of her life.

While Natasha gazes at you in sheer horror, disgust - you look almost…relaxed. Chill. Decompressed.

Natasha stays quiet as you speak, with one eyebrow raised and your lips curled into a smirk. “Are you?”

The woman across from you doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything back. For a long while, she remains statuesque – both in beauty and in stillness. She doesn’t say anything until she’s finished her food and placed her plate gingerly into the kitchen sink. Even then, she avoids your eyes ad grips the edge of the counter like a lifeline.

“Only if I can shower first.”

You laugh with your head thrown back, deep and loud and boisterous. It’s the most beautiful laugh Natasha’s ever heard, and her heart aches when you finally speak.

“Sure thing, Red. Towels in the third shelf in the cabinet, use as many as you like.”

Natasha doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t even meet your eyes as she follows muscle memory to the place where she puked her guts up in the night previous.

Once she figures out your shower and turns the knob marked with a red H all the way on, Natasha looks around, peaking in the cabinets and under the sink – a bad habit from the days of training. She doesn’t know what she’s expected to find, but nothing of the sort piques her interest. It’s all…quite regular, normal even.

Under the sink she sees tons of cleaning supplies, what she guesses are doubles of various beauty/hygiene products, empty travel-sized bags.

The mirror-fronted cabinet is filled with over the counter medication, sample-sized beauty products, and enough skin care merchandise to leave all of Manhattan pimple-free.

When she closes it, the thick steam turns her reflection into a mere blob, and only then does Natasha Romanoff strip off her clothes.

The water burns her skin, bites at her cuts, makes her bruises sting. If she was anywhere else, she’d probably scream and cry, maybe pick at the scabs starting to form.

Here, though, she swallows the stone that’s accrued in her throat and ignores the even bigger boulder that’s made its home in the center of her chest. She grabs for the shampoo (then body wash, then conditioner) and tries to clean herself.

The spicy mint liquid (did she mention that everything was coordinated? Not even the same brand, just a perfectly harmonized sympathy of scents) works for the dirt, for the sweat, for the weird stickiness she doesn’t recognize that clings to the skin of her thighs and palms and, somehow, places inside her.

She doesn’t know how long it is when she finally steps out – pads of her fingers and toes wrinkled and her lungs clouded with the steam. She can barely breathe, but she has a feeling its not because of the thick air.

The towel – deep and maroon – is the fluffiest and softest thing Natasha’s ever felt against her skin. She pads back to the room she slept in last night, only a little shocked to find the bed made and you, barefoot in a baggy t-shirt and running shorts, reading a thick book you’re about halfway through.

She catches flashes of the front cover – something she dismally recognizes. It’s a spy novel, one of those cheesy romance ones that are incredibly popular with middle-aged moms and lonely Christian college students.

“Whatcha readin?” Natasha asks.

You look up and smile after looking her over. “Some garbage. Borrowed it from a friend after she said I’m, well,” you let out a self-deprecating laugh. “that I’m ‘super lonely.’ Which isn’t not true.”

Natasha smiles back. “Still sounds kinda mean.”

You shrug. “Truth hurts, I guess.”

There are a few moments of silence as you and her stare at each other – the kind of silence Natasha doesn’t seem to mind. Normally she hates the quiet, feels the need to fill whatever void she feels is created by lack of speech.

Still, she’s the person to break it. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“That towel,” you say, smirk still on your lips. “Matches your hair.”

Natasha smiles a little, avoiding your gaze as she searches for the dirty clothes from last night. Without hesitation, you push the clothes toward her with your foot – except now they’re clean, folded, fresh.

“Thanks,” Natasha mumbles. “I…thanks.”

You shrug, telling her its no problem. “Assumed you wouldn’t want to put on your dirty clothes, so…”

Natasha nods but says nothing, reaching for the clothes. She stops when she notices you putting your book to the side and readjusting against the headboard. Natasha stands there, clutching where the towel tucks into itself – waiting for whatever you’re going to say next.

“C’mere,” you say, beckoning her over with a single crooked finger.

She follows, still silent, walking to the edge of your bed with shaky hands and awkward legs. She hesitates, waiting for confirmation.

“It’s alright, baby girl, c’mere,” you say again, opening your legs further. An invitation, Natasha realizes. It makes her heart speed up.

She gives you a small nod before moving forward, adjusting her towel along the way with her eyes trained on the bed.

You guide her so that her back – still covered by the towel – presses into your chest.

“If you ever want to stop,” you whisper, intertwining your hands with hers. The pads of her fingers are still slightly wrinkled and sensitive and she nearly moans as her skin meets yours. “Just tell me, okay?”

Natasha gives a small nod, moving closer to you.

“This alright?” you ask, moving to undo her towel.

She nods again, then tenses as her damp skin is exposed to the cool air. Your warm hands make goosebumps erupt over her soft, sweet-smelling skin. Her breath hitches as your teeth trail across her back - leaving kisses along her shoulder and up into her hairline then on the shell of her ear.

“Just relax, baby,” you tell her. “Don’t worry about anything, just let me take care of you.”

Natasha nods silently, readjusting before pressing back into you. The towels falls as she does, and as it bunches uncomfortably you grab at it to throw it to the floor. With her last veil of modesty tossed carelessly aside Natasha blushes, moving to cross her arms over her chest.

You tsk, moving her arms from in front of her. “Don’t hide from me, baby,” you mumble into her ear. “Don’t ever hide your beautiful body from me.”

Natasha stays silent, hands resting outside your knees. She does nod, though, and presses into you once more. One of your arms goes across her chest, keeping her own arms in place at her sides. The other trails between her legs, fingertips ghosting over her thighs and across her lower stomach. You can hear Natasha’s breath hitch each time your skin meets hers.

“You like that, baby girl?” You ask. She nods again, small squeaks leaving her as you collect some of the slick that’s dripping onto your sheets. “You like it when I touch you like this?”

Natasha moans as you plunge one, two fingers into her. She watches for a few thrusts before clenching her eyes shut and letting her head fall back into your shoulder and panting into your bare neck. It’s not long before you can feel her pussy clenching around your fingers, her breath coming out in light pants and moans deeper than before.

“I-I’m,” you can hear her try to swallow despite the dryness of her mouth. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

You smile and bite at the shell of her ear. “It’s okay, baby girl, you can come, you can come all you want tonight.”

It only takes a few more crooks of your fingers, a few more circles around her clit for Natasha to throw her head back and nearly scream – her legs shaking as she gushes over your fingers and wrists and sheets. Her whole body – once quite tense – now slacks against your chest. You’re a little taken aback by her squirting, and that this is normal enough for Natasha that she has no problem ruining another lover’s bed. Somehow it makes it that much hotter, makes you that much wetter, as you manhandle her onto her back. She’s pliant, laying nice and open for you - even as you grab the strap and cleaned cock from the back of one of the drawers in your nightside table, even as you slide one of your biggest toys into her soaked, aching pussy.

Natasha’s whole body is tense, each individual muscle chasing pleasure. She’s got her knees pulled up to her chest, one arm holding them in place and the other gripping your sheets. She doesn’t remember the last time she’d been folded in half, but now she wishes she could spend every day like this.

“Oh, god,” she moans, high-pitched and whiny. “God, it feels so good.”

You laugh a little, catching her lips in a kiss as you thrust shallowly into her. “Yeah, baby girl? You like getting fucked like this?”

Natasha nods, gasping each time the leather of the strap brushes her clit. “Yes, fuck yesyesyes.”

Your hand wraps around Nat’s throat, pushing her further into the bed. “Yes, of course she does. My big powerful mobster loves getting her pussy demolished, doesn’t she? Needs to be fucked so that she can focus on her job?”

The woman in question is nodding and babbling absolute nonsense – and, in the low light, you’re sure you see tears fall down her face.

One of your hands comes down to properly rub at her neglected clit. Natasha nearly screams as you do, hips bucking in a wild, animalistic way.

“You gonna come like this?” you whisper, leaning down to kiss between her brows. “Is my nasty little slut gonna come from me fucking her this good?”

Natasha nods again, each thrust soliciting another desperate, high-pitched moan from somewhere deep in her throat.

“Yeah?” you faux-pout, voice dropping as you watch her eyes roll back into her head. You spit on her cunt, Natasha wailing as the slick collecting there allows you to rub harder, faster at the most sensitive part of her.

She comes with a shout – with a loud, deep moan you wish you’d recorded. It takes you a moment, takes the pounding in your chest and ears a moment to recede, for you to realize your abdomen (as well as hers) were covered in her wetness. Her dry lips and flittering eyes only give more credence to your understanding, to your realization that she had squirted all over you.

Natasha groans as you pull out, the delicateness of her pussy as well as the emptiness combining into a cognitive dissonance she could feel in the tip of her toes.

You get her something to drink – an unmarked Gatorade bottle you’re praying isn’t spiked (you’ve been a bartender long enough to usually know what is and isn’t, but somehow Natasha seems like someone able to escape your watchful eye).

It takes a few minutes for the color to return to Natasha’s face, for her to ask if she can get you off, too. You smile and kiss her again, silently sitting up.

You finally come with your pussy hovering over Natasha’s panting mouth, her face becoming soaked with your wetness and, soon, your cum. She’s able to find the mental focus to clean some of it up, and it takes all of you not to pounce on her as you watch her, with hooded eyes, desperate to for praise as she licks at her face.

“You good, darling?” you coo, wiping at her cheeks with your thumbs.

Natasha sniffles. “Yeah, yeah I’m good.”

You nod, running your hands through her sweaty hair. “Alright, I’m gonna grab you another Gatorade, okay? I’m not gonna be gone long, I promise.”

She nods, making no effort to move. Natasha lays there, practically inert as she hears you leave the room. She’s too tired to look at anything but the ceiling – the terrifying reality of what she has to do next settling over her.

Still, she closes her eyes and listens to you padding into the kitchen and opening the refrigerator. The faint sound of the bottle opening, the cap being thrown away and hitting the side of the metal trash can. It’s all so mundane but everything Natasha needs right now – reprieve from her mistakes and the consequences of them.

You help her up, when you get back, so she can drink without coughing and sputtering and drowning on dry land. One hand remains occupied with holding the bottle of liquid, while your other arm wraps around your back. It rests at her side, with your thumb rubbing circles into the heated skin.

You coo sweet praises into her hairline, your legs bracketing her in. When the dull-orange liquid is gone you toss it to the side – pulling Natasha down with you.

You fall asleep easily, Natasha resting on your bare chest. She knows when you’ve fallen into unconsciousness because your fingers stop carding through her hair, working through the knots that have found themselves there.

She waits, listening as your heartbeat and breathing slow to an even pace. Natasha lays there for a long while, savoring the feeling being in your arms – of the delicious tiredness in her muscles. Wide awake, she waits until the orange-yellow sun begins to light up the room.

You lay there, wonderfully oblivious to Natasha getting redressed and finding her dead, now-cracked phone; unaware of her holding her shoes until the front door was closed softly and silently.

She doesn’t put her shoes on until the gets in the elevator, and doesn’t cry until she finds her way home.

The memory is long, vivid – she can nearly feel your skin under her fingertips. It’s then that the reality of the situation hits her, that what she thinks is happening is, in fact, really actually fucking happening:

Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff’s best friend and right-hand woman, is dating a woman Natasha has lowkey been in love with for about a year.

Has she seen you since that night? No. She’s got a picture of you, one she found after cleaning out a thick stack of photos (like, physical ass photos) from the bar. It’s you, happy, pouring drinks with both hands. She’s got it tucked away somewhere in her bedroom beneath old medications she never finished and note she scribbled.

Has she made an effort to? No. Never to look at the photo, or to find you. It should be easy, considering you work at the bar she owns – but ever since that night…she’s avoided it. The bar.

Does she still feel a gut-wrenching guilt gnawing at her as she folds herself into a fetal position on her office floor? Absolutely.

Natasha finds herself in the center of an ethical dilemma of the worst kind; the rare kind that a gun or knife or sly smile can’t get her out of. For what is likely the first time in her whole life-slash-professional-career, she probably actually should really deal with whatever corner she’s backed herself into.

Isn’t there some girl code, or whatever, that says she should tell Wanda what’s happened? Shouldn’t she at least warn you? But, even if she wanted to, how would she do that, given she hasn’t so much as looked at you since she snuck out of your apartment? Should she warn Wanda? What would she even say!?

“Hey, trusted fist of my multi-billion-dollar operation and also girl I know who has superpowers and is definitely hiding from a few governments, I got fucked by your girlfriend about a year back and I haven’t been the same since! She railed me until I was a new person! It’s that hilarious! Please laugh at this with me!”

Natasha groans and lets her head drop to her desk. She is royally and totally fucked.

(And, to her dismay, not in a good way).

#lukis does commissions #lukis writes stuff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagines #black widow x reader #mobster nat

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yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy · 3 years

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Chapters: 12/? Fandom: Incredibles (Pixar Movies) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Violet Parr/Buddy "Syndrome" Pine, Violet Parr/Original Male Character(s), Invisigirl - Relationship Characters: Violet Parr, Invisigirl - Character, Little Miss Disappear, Buddy Pine, Buddy "Syndrome" Pine, Bartholomew Pine, Original Male Character, Original Male Superhero Character Additional Tags: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Corporate Espionage, Modern AU, Spy Invisigirl, Smut, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Aged up characters, Still, A bit of an age difference, Safe Sane and Consensual, Love Triangle, Assets & Handlers Summary:

Ten years after the events in the movies yet in a modern setting. Violet Parr as Invisigirl, has since disappeared from the public eye several years ago. She became a protégé to none other than Mirage and has had an incredibly successful career still working for The Agency but working as a spy and agent behind the scenes and foiled more Villains without anyone but The Agency ever knowing that she was the one who foiled them. However Superhero Work has it's price- mentally, emotionally and most of all physically and now Invisigirl has to come out of the shadows and work one last job as a public handler for an aristobrat, genius, billionaire, playboy- Mr. Phillip Sebastian who has his own tricks and agenda and requests Invisigirl specifically. Which in turn- put's her back on the radar and put's her under an iron clad contract with not just The Agency but with Mr. Sebastian. And it's this one last job that will be the answer to all of Violet Parr's problems. After this, she can disappear for good and never, ever, be found again. It's a three year contract and she is already a year in and everything is going perfectly. Until- Buddy Pine decides to try his hand at corporate espionage. His target? Phillip Sebastian.

And just in case you don’t want to click the link- I’ll have a read more.

Why So Jaded?

Chapter 12

"What did you sign?" Violet demanded of her brother, trying to keep her rage in check as she prayed her brother wouldn't be stupid enough to sign anything without having at least one lawyer.

"I didn't sign anything." Dash reassured her before she blew out a breath of relief.

"I have a healthy enough fear of you Ms. Parr to know that if I would even entertain the possibility of hiring any relation of yours that I would have several lawyers involved." Phillip offered with a charming smile as Violet smiled politely in return but she was ready to roast Phillip on an open spit for even entertaining the idea of hiring Dash as Violet simply crossed her arms over her chest and popped her hip. She had to get Dash out of this building before he did something everyone would regret. She would never forgive herself if something ever happened to Dash and that burden would be too much even for her to carry. She needed to get Dash out of this building and away from Phillip before Dash came to any more harm. Because Dash probably had at least one suicide seed planted in his head, who knew how many others Phillip had already planted there with just him being in this office.

"A private word Mr. Sebastian." Violet urged, she needed to intervene. She would pull the overbearing, controlling bitch card if she had to if it meant her brother could walk free.

"Oh come on, give me a chance before you shoot me down Vi." Dash argued.

"Mr. Parr had quite the convincing argument as to why I should hire him along with Mr. Traeger." Phillip explained.

"Then I have a counter argument which you should find even more convincing." Violet insisted. She hated to do it but she needed to make Dash out as the worst possible candidate for Phillip. It would be like opening up old wounds between herself and Dash and rubbing new salt in them but it would save his life and make sure that he in turn would be alive to at least watch his own children grow up. She didn't care how she would come across or who would hate her for this, it was for his own good.

"Come on Vi." Dash pleaded.

"Dash, this is your one opportunity to get up and walk out of this here and now. This is not the time or the place for you." Violet insisted as she gave him her own pleading look while doing her best to keep in control of her emotions, praying that Dash wasn't going to push this because she knew he was too stubborn yet alone, mentally weak enough to fight against anything Phillip was pumping into his head, she needed to fix this before it became a catastrophe. She would never forgive herself if anything happened to Dash because of her, the blood of other Supers was already a torment to her conscience. She couldn't have Dash's too.

"Well in the spirit of fairness, please, enlighten me as to why Mr. Parr wouldn't be a good fit. But don't do him the disservice of saying it behind his back." Phillip offered and Violet was never more furious for being pitted against her own brother especially by Phillip but if Phillip wanted an entertaining show, she was going to give it to him if it meant that Dash could walk away from this. She could deal with Dash being pissed at her for "ruining" his chances. But if she had to worry about not only keeping her own head and her own wits, she couldn't handle juggling Dash's too.

"First off, what exactly do you want to hire Mr. Parr for?" Violet asked, hoping that by some miracle, that it wouldn't be that bad. Maybe he wanted Dash as a PR man? Maybe?

"As an associate handler." Phillip answered and Violet was ready to curse, scream and cry because of course Phillip would want to keep his leverage against her as close to himself as possible.

"Does Mr. Parr have any handler experience?" Violet asked as she looked from Phillip to Dash pointedly.

"I handle myself just fine." Dash answered and Violet snorted a laugh as she pretended to pat her hips down.

"Are you missing something Ms. Parr?" Philip posed.

"Yes, Mr. Parr's microphone because he's obviously trying to do some stand up comedy." Violet answered as Leo snorted a laugh in turn as he simply sat in the chair and looked over at Violet fondly. Violet was always a special treat to be in the presence of, no matter the circumstances around their meetings.

"Mr. Parr, you have never, in your life, handled yourself well." Violet answered dismissively.

"How can you say that?" Dash demanded before Violet came over and perched herself on the corner of Phillip's desk between Phillip and her brother because there was no other chair for her to sit at at the desk and she didn't want to sit in Phillip's lap or actually bring another chair over from where the living room space of his office was.

"Mr. Parr, if you are even going to apply for that kind of position, for not only a fortune 500 company but for an asset worth billions who in all respects is a very high value asset, you need to have a minimum of 2-5 years experience of being a handler for other high value assets and handling yourself doesn't count you also need to have at least three to five, preferably seven, very glowing letters of recommendation and be vetted by at least two to four, maybe five individual, independent and completely objective guarantors. Do you even know how to spell guarantors?" Violet put to Dash.

"G-u-a…." Dash tried to think.

"And have a body count of at least 10." Violet interrupted.

"Oh I got that in the bag." Dash scoffed.

"Really? You've killed more than 10 people in cold blood and buried all evidence that you were the one to kill them?" Violet asked and watched as Dash's face fell as he realized that she was asking for that kind of body count, a kill count. Not a "body count" as in had sex with at least ten people.

"Mr. Sebastian, go on The Agency's data base and inform Mr. Parr what my body count is." Violet invited as she scooted back onto the desk to sit more comfortably.

"I don't know if.." Phillip began as Leo simply raised his eyebrows and bit his lips to keep his face from splitting in half from a smile because he could sense this was about to get really ugly in the most entertaining way.

"Do it." Violet ordered as Phillip nodded and did as she asked.

"You have 3,744 confirmed kills and another 2,317 additional assumed kills," Phillip read off as both Leo and Dash's eyes got wide.

"So, Dash, what's your body count?" Violet repeated.

"Uh, well, we did kill like a dozen henchman when we stormed Syndrome's…" Dash began.

"No, you tipped off their flying hovercrafts so they could run into each other, how many people have you either shot, dismembered, strangled, poisoned, bombed, or just outright slaughtered?" Violet asked.

"Well how many have you…?" Dash asked.

"7,834." Violet answered.

"Damn." Leopold coughed like he got shot in the gut.

"And over a thousand of those were mid coitus." Violet grinned triumphantly.

"Fuck." Leo coughed again before he got his glass of water and drank it like it was whiskey, he knew Violet was lethal and one of the more dangerous Supers at The Agency, but that would put her in a league all her own as Violet seemed to appear a whole lot more sexier than she ever was in his eyes, no wonder Phillip adored her, he could see why, she was all femme fatal.

"You've killed, over a thousand guys, while their dicks were.." Dash paled.

"845 men, the remaining 347 were women." Violet smiled like 'fuck you' was written on her teeth as Dash looked downright scandalized as Leo couldn't help but whistle lowly and mutter a 'wow' under his breath.

"But moving on from the body count. Dash, you don't fucking listen. You don't listen to anyone about anything, you don't listen to your own handler or your own manager or your own coaches for crying out loud or anyone else in any position of authority. If I tell you to duck, you ask why and argue with me along with everyone else. Your immediate and unquestioning obedience to orders given, no matter who gives them, means your life in this business. Even when you don't agree with it or don't see the sense in it at the time. You had a hard enough time being obedient to Dad, let alone Mom. And your sexist bullshit has no place here because you don't listen to women especially even when those women have earned that place of authority to tell you what to do. Not to mention you're a selfish, self absorbed asshole whose ego can practically touch the moon and you need a measure of humility in this job, of which you have none. You don't know how to walk into a room and not immediately want to be in the center of attention in it." Violet leveled and even Leo had to agree with her very valid points because Violet knew what she was talking about.

"Dash, you are a great Super and an awesome hero and you know exactly how to play to the media to make yourself the star of the show because you have a ton of charm and charisma, which you get honestly from Dad. But it's because you are those things that disqualify you from this kind of position. Because in this job, you're not the star, you're not even supposed to be on the damn camera or even in the shot. You are offscreen supporting cast only and an asterisk in the credits. You don't get any limelight and when you do, it better be pointing it Mr. Sebastian because since he's the asset, he's the star of the show, he's the focus, he's the target, he's the focal point. And if you detract from that, you're not doing your job correctly. Also if you're working for Mr. Sebastian, that means that your life as White Lightning, not to mention Dash Parr the Olympian, gets put on hold and on the last back burner. Because you'll be working as yourself which means that White Lightning has to be completely separate from this. Which means you won't be able to do any stunts or any press or any media work for yourself. Which means your own popularity will wane and the focus at The Agency will focus away from you and find someone new to push onto the masses. Someone younger, prettier, bigger and better, faster and stronger. New Supers are found and practically made- every day and that eventuality is the given, it's the rule and the expectation which is why I never bought into it. Which means, that your time in the spotlight, your own fifteen minutes of fame- should you take this position, will be over. And when you're done being in this kind of position, mounting a comeback- isn't going to happen with any measure of success, because you will just be a has been and old news and a passing fling for all your adoring fans. Also your training as an Olympian will also wane and fade. Which means you won't be an athlete anymore. At least one that won't and can't compete professionally. Which means your "real life" persona, will also fade. What brand wants to sponsor a has been? Old news? Your ego already can't handle your rival's popularity if it overshadows yours, you'll implode on your own downward spiral and fall from grace and your current media darling status." Violet warned, hoping and praying that Dash was listening to a word of this because she was pulling out every stop she could think of to make him see sense and make him see that this would not serve him well in the long run and knew that Dash held his own fame near and dear to his heart and if anything was going to snap him out of the spell Phillip put him under, this should be it.

"Also, loose lips sink ships. And you can't keep a secret to save your life. For someone as selfish as you are, your own sense of self preservation is next to zero because you can't help but reveal your own secret or super identity because there's no difference between the two. I'll give you a fairly recent example. How much money, would it take for me to offer Bianca, the Victoria Secret model who you spent your weekend with to find out how many times you showed her your 'human vibrator' trick? A hundred dollars? A thousand dollars? Ten thousand maybe? You do it with almost every girl you sleep with. And it's the reason you can't keep a condom on that pecker of yours because you literally burn through them because you're a show-off. Because whoever you are fucking, her adoration and her being in a state of impressed is always like a drug to you because you're addicted to always being the best, no matter what you're doing. Because the only reason that Ashley and Amy get as much child support from you is because half of it is practically hush money which they abide by because you're a cash cow for them, and as long as they keep their mouths shut, they get to live comfortably and raise your kids in your absence because you can't be bothered to actually raise them half the time because if word got out that the reason you're the fastest man alive and the reason you're always a gold medal Olympian is because you're a Super, imagine the fallout. Every girl that you fuck, can put it together that you're really White Lightning. And everything will get taken away once that barely held secret comes out and then all your popularity, all your sponsorships and endorsements on both sides, both for Dash Parr and White Lightning will be taken away and you'll go from most popular to most hated overnight because you're a cheater in every sense, you cheated on your high school sweetheart with your first college crush for crying out loud and your two sons by two different women are only six months apart. Do you really think that speaks of your character in any kind of good light?” Violet posed.

“Mr. Sebastian has enemies in both high and low places. Enemies that pay more money than you can comprehend to find any cracks or kinks in his armor. I would give it, maybe 12 hours at the soonest, 72 at the very latest, that the moment you are even rumored to be involved with Mr. Sebastian that every deep dark secret you possess would be offered up to them on a silver platter by all their moles and hunters and then that very dirt is used against Mr. Sebastian and yourself or because you're a greedy, selfish, two timing, cheating motherfucker, who is to say you won't go to them yourself? And not only tell all your own secrets but tell on mine, or tell on Mom or Dad or tell on everyone you know or you're associated with, let alone Mr. Sebastian's? And you'd do it for one thing, money. Because you blow money faster than you spend it and you're drowning in debt and yet the moment you make a hundred bucks, you're spending a hundred and fifty? You've fired every money manager I've gotten you because they told you things that you didn't want to hear like 'stop buying everything in sight'. Do you really think that I, let alone Mr. Sebastian of all people are going to bend over backwards to protect you when all you are to us is a liability, when you can't even perform the fucking job in the first place?! You are in way over your head and you have no business in this business." Violet plainly and yet strangely, honestly appraised and didn't know if it was Phillip urging her to be honest or her own will to finally let all this air out because she had been stamping all this down since she came back.

"And the word on the street may be that I'm a hateful, mean, domineering and controlling bitch. But you know what? I perform my job with a margin of error that is in the fractions of a single percent and I have earned every single person's loyalty and respect on my team to the point we take bullets for each other all the time on the regular. I not only have to deal with ransom situations and assassination attempts but also deal with corporate espionage that makes just regular governmental espionage look like child's play and you wouldn't even know what any of that looks like because you'd again, hand over everything for a pretty face with a smile and short tight skirt." Violet accused evenly as Dash simply sat there and pouted like a child being told no while Leo sat there as realization hit him over the head how much sense she was making because while Dash was his bro. Violet was speaking nothing but truth and if Leo really had to be in this job himself, he didn't know if he'd be willing to have Dash's back when Dash was so clearly ill equipped to have his.

"And I can see it written all over your face because you have a shit poker face, that I'm just being mean right? I'm just out to ruin everything for you? That this is a personal attack on you and I've taken this all too far? Well I got news for you. I'm literally just being honest. I'm not a bossy bitch, I am the big boss bitch. I have dozens of others coming to me for mentorship and advice on how to do this job the right way and the most successfully viable way because I've been there and done that with everything that can happen. Because I have set the precedent and the standard. And it is the gold standard in this industry for very good and valid reasons. All that money that I make that you're so jealous of, because all this really is to you- is about the fucking money and nothing else. Guess what, I've earned and payed for every cent of it with my own blood and every drop of my enemies blood as well because Mr. Sebastian's enemies which in turn are my own by principle alone. Because that's what a shield does. And while on paper I'm a handler, what I really am is a shield and a deterrent and every other Super in my position, is a shield for their assets in turn and the reason Mr. Sebastian is safe is because who is left of his enemies knows that they can not strike at him without me giving a counter strike and when I strike, I hit hard and they stay down and they never get back up. I'm a hunter and I always hunt to kill and I'm always successful because my life depends on it and my life is spent serving others and I am perfectly happy and content with that and that’s your problem, you’re never happy or content with anything. And that's what's the biggest disqualifier for you, you only know how to serve yourself. You don't know how to best serve others because you've never cared enough to learn how to do it. And the reason all of this has worked so well is because I hold myself to a standard of perfection that you can't even dream of holding yourself to. I operate with surgical precision because I have to because not only does my life hang in the balance, but so does my asset, and his family and everyone he cares about and everyone who depends on him works for SEB and all of Mr. Sebastian's companies depend on me to protect the man who signs their checks and gives them their means of living along with every single person on my team and all of their families and loved ones, not to mention my own." Violet specified.

"Tell me Dash, how many back up plans do you have? If a swat team decides to storm this building, which has actually happened more times than I can count, and if they decide to blow out these windows again and open fire from a helicopter that is hovering just outside this office- right this second. What would you do? How do you protect yourself? Are you even carrying a gun or any kind of weapon or is your plan always to just 'duck' and use your powers to move faster than the bullets themselves? Do you protect yourself or do you protect Mr. Sebastian first? How do you counter attack? How do you get to safe spaces? Where are the safe spaces even located? And what happens when you get shot dead? What plans do you have in place for Dash Jr and Dillon and Ashley and Amy? So they don't raise those boys all on their own or are you going to leave it to chance and the universe to take care of them when you're not around to? Do you just get to hope and pray that whoever will marry those girls will treat their future step sons ok? Or will they be the proverbial redheaded step children who get left out in the cold? Do you even have life insurance? Who gets to bury you? And where do you want your body to be laid to rest? What kind of funeral do you want to have? You're a 'take it as it comes, I'll figure it out when I get to it' kind of person. You can not be that kind of person in this job, you need to not only have your day planned out, your week, your month, your year. But you also need to have plans, structure, protocols and contingencies in place for whatever happens and be ready to react however you need to and not always how you want to and you need to have all that memorized and your body to be ready to go into action and evasive maneuvers in the blink of an eye and do you have any idea how exhausting it is not just physically but mentally because that can happen at any moment without warning, whether you're on the clock or not. Because if you are not in complete control of every situation in every moment, accidents and chaos will happen and will always surprise you and do it's utmost to catch you with your pants down when you're not ready and recovering from the damage inflicted in those moments will take the rest of your life. However long or short that will be. You have dealt with some pressures in your life, but these pressures here, are too much for you. It will take at least a year or two or maybe three, to get you properly trained in all the disciplines you'll need to know to even attempt to hack at this job and all that time is going to cost at least seventy five to a hundred and fifty grand per year. And your value as a person and your value as a production entity, and what you produce is protection and safety- needs to outweigh your liability and your investment. And from where I sit, you're a bad fit who needs too much work to be made viable who's own liabilities are too high risk and whose value of protection will never pay out in any meaningful way. And your connection to me is a hindrance, not a help. Nepotism kills in this industry. Everyone has a 'I tried to get my nephew or my brother or someone else I know into this and they're dead now and we've had a fall out in the family since and we don't talk anymore' story. And I don't want to have one of my own, and neither should you." Violet insisted.

"With all due respect Mr. Sebastian, with respect to everything that Ms. Parr has brought to light. I will not be signing on if Mr. Parr does. Because I am in agreement with Ms. Parr on this 100%. Mr. Parr isn't right for this. The closest I would want Mr. Parr is just a friend and not a close one at that in light of all those liabilities, and frankly, I'm underqualified for this, the fact that Ms. Parr even mentioned my name in the first place is very high praise that I'm not worthy of and I'm frankly honored to bear witness that Ms. Parr lives up to her reputation of being the best in the business for every good reasons that she just demonstrated, to the point that she is so professional that she won't let familial ties cloud her judgement or keep her from making the right call and to ignore her or go against her very sage advice, would be courting disaster." Leo formally answered Phillip who frowned. Not thinking that Leo would rather side with Violet instead of Dash, here he thought he would have it easy to have a three against one but right now it was two against one and if he wasn't so hell bent on his own objectives, he would immediately dismiss Dash. He had to find a way to make everyone happy while still serving his purpose.

"But..." Dash began to argue before Leo reached over and clasped his shoulder to stop him from making a fool of himself.

"Dash, Violet has you dead to rights, to sign on with this is signing your own death warrant and you have too much to lose if anything goes sideways and you're just plain, not cut out for it, it's not gonna work out man and it's ok, just accept it. No amount of money in the world should make you want to risk not watching your kids grow up. And you may be pissed at your sister and your pride and ego might be bruised right now but she just saved your life and you're an idiot if you don't see that. I wish I had a badass sister like you who looked out for me the way she just did for you. And she honestly did you a favor and every word out of her mouth rang true and she just gave you a priceless service of pointing out, in less than, say 20 minutes, where your weaknesses are and what you need to work on as a human being to be better. She did her job right. And she did right by you by making sure you stay out of harms way, which this job has more than it's fair share of. You can't ask anything more from her. Now, let's get out of here, I'll buy you a drink." Leo offered.

"Mr. Sebastian, thank you for your time, we'll be in touch and I'll give you my answer when I have a chance to think it over and sleep on it. Ms. Parr always a pleasure to see you." Leo offered as he stood and shook Phillip's hand. then Violet's hand.

"Mr. Traeger." Violet returned.

"Thanks for at least hearing me out." Dash offered to Phillip as he shook his hand but still offered Violet a dirty glare as he passed her to leave with Leo.

But Violet could handle Dash's hurt feelings more than his innocent blood, she did it, she saved him. And what's more is she at least had Leo to back her up before she swiveled in her spot on the desk and turned around and faced Phillip, ready to take on whatever bullshit he would come up with to excuse himself.

"You were too hard on him." Phillip offered to Violet.

"No. I'm the only one who can see through bullshit apparently. What is wrong with you? Did you think that just because he shares some of my blood that he'd be anything like me? How many times have I told you about how he needs reminders to pay his own child support and bills, how he can't even function as an adult. He can't even cook or take care of himself properly and how the only thing he knows how to keep clean is his shoes, his car and his super-suit, because he can’t do laundry to save his life and he just drops all his clothes off at the drycleaners so they deal with it. The guy buys paper plates and bowls and plastic cutlery because he can't even bring himself to actually wash his own dishes. If he can't take care of himself, how in the fuck is he supposed to take care of you? What kind of sob story did he try to ply you with?" Violet posed because she knew outright accusing him of trying to hire Dash to use as leverage against her wasn't going to work. But if she could shift the blame to Dash, it would effectively make it look like she was letting him off the hook.

"You're right, I'm sorry. I didn't take any of that into consideration and as always, you did bring up some very valid points, so I conceded, I will not be hiring Mr. Parr as my handler and anyone who hires him in any position where his own liabilities endanger others is foolish." Phillip cooed to sooth her anger because her rage was palpable even without his powers before her anger seemed to abate as his own spark of genius thought of ways he could get around this.

"Before you sign anyone else, at least run it by me. I appreciate you doing everything to keep things from off my plate, but Dash was the worst candidate for that job. Or really any job that doesn't involve his own ego and his own popularity and fame, because he is shallow, like a puddle, or maybe the Habsburg gene pool." Violet teased with a laugh as Phillip simply chuckled with her.

"Anyway, do we have anything new for Mr. Pine this evening?" Violet asked.

"Nope, nothing new, good night Ms. Parr." Phillip bid her.

"Goodnight." Violet grinned as she nodded and hopped off the desk and walked down to Buddy's floor.

"Good evening Mr. Pine." Violet greeted.

"Good evening Ms. Parr." Barret greeted.

"Any new business?" Barret asked before Violet started laughing that laugh that portrayed how close she was to losing her goddamn mind.

"What happened?" Barret asked.

"Some damn foolishness, that's for sure." Violet answered as she pulled up the feed from Phillip's office from about an hour ago on her tablet. "Not to be an imposing guest, but could I trouble you for about an hour of your time and a glass or two of wine?" Violet asked with a giddy smile because she wanted Barret to see what had happened.

"You're never imposing." Barret immediately reassured her as he immediately put down what he was working on as Violet happily pressed a button on her sleeve and her outfit changed into one of just a casual outfit of a nice blouse and leggings with flats as she followed him into his apartment and took a seat on his breakfast bar as Barret went through what he had before he threw together the leftovers from the weekend as an offering for her before he got up on the other barstool next to her as Violet felt cameras and listening devices power down now that she was on this side of his space before she pulled up the video for Barret to see.

"Who's this?" Barret asked.

"That's Dash, as I'm sure you've figured out, is really White Lightning and that, is Leopold Traeger, aka Mysterio, but obviously, don't tell, anyway it's Leo who I suggested to Phil because Mysterio has a decent head count and has his own fair share of scandal and cover ups who's been around the block a few times and wouldn't judge Phil for his vices and would be flexible to work the schedule and wouldn't mind the cage too badly. He's not the greatest but he'll do for now until someone awesome becomes available because obviously I've been reassigned to you." Violet murmured quietly with a happy smile before she pulled up the video as Barret opened the bottle of wine and started to pour two wine glasses full before Violet put the tablet on the counter between them as they watched Dash try to spit his best game trying to get whatever job Phillip could use him for.

"Desperate much?" Barret muttered with a frown.

"That's Phil." Violet breathed in Barret's ear.

"What?" Barret asked as he moved his arm to rest on the back of Violet's backrest of the stool as Violet happily cuddled into his side as she put her mouth over his ear, her other hand cupping between her lips and his ear.

"That's Phillip. It's not that he can read thoughts per-say, he can read emotions, and he manipulate your emotions, even if all Dash did was look at him and go 'damn I wish he was my boss so I could make as much money' he takes that and turns it up to 11. He can make anyone feel desperate, desperate for him or what he could give them. Which in this case- is money. Phillip probably made Dash feel like if he didn't get a job from Phillip today- that he would starve to death before he would get evicted tomorrow. That kind of desperate." Violet revealed into Barret's ear as he fought not to shudder in delight, having her that close to him as his fingertips curled around her arm once the inside of his forearm made contact with her back and shoulders as her warmth seeped into his soul.

He knew it was going to be her job to "seduce" him, thankfully slowly. But he'd be lying if he tried to deny that he hadn't already fallen for her. But he also knew, the "harder" he made it for her to get close to him, the better for her in the long run because that would buy them both time to figure stuff out with Phillip, but in these moments, it was hard not to give in because his heart was ready to turn itself into an airplane runway and start waving her in.

"I see." Barret nodded in understanding before they watched the rest of the video as Barret watched on in awed amazement to see Violet do her best to try to counter all of that as he thought Leo's reactions were hilarious if not incredibly appropriate as he found himself mirroring the same reactions to everything Violet said.

"So I take it had you not been there to intervene and interfere, Dash would have been the real take." Barret realized.

"Yup. Now if Phillip goes to my father to try to do the same thing to him, I'll end him. So my question would be, should that happen, do you want me to take you with- after I do?" Violet asked.

"Please." Barret found himself saying before he could stop himself.

"Awesome, well, until then and while I'm here and while the spiders are sleeping, you and I should really talk about how we're going to proceed with 'the give'. Because I feel like the moment Philip is sure that you've fallen for me, he's going to order me to undo you. And I don't want to do that, for real at least. But even if we have to play this up for the camera so to speak, I think there's a way we can do it without hating each other's guts by the end of it. So I have an idea." Violet began.

"Ok," Barred prompted.

"I know we agreed about the Mr. Pine, Bartholomew, Buddy, Barret thing. As much as this hurts to say and I feel sick to my stomach just saying this out loud but, when the time comes for when Phillip orders for me to undo you. If I absolutely have to and have no other choice, I would prefer to undo Tully, not Barret and just in case you need to undo me for any reason, undo Eloise, Ellie for short, not Violet. Eloise is my real middle name and it's a nickname that very, very few people use or would even know to use and it'll be something that can also get by the sensors and it'll give Phillip something somewhat tangible for when we have to put on a show in here and that way I can "hurt you" at least mentally and emotionally without actually hurting you, or at least, the real you." Violet suggested and Barret was ready to kiss her because his love and adoration for her just about overpowered him.

"Violet and Barret, Ellie and Tully." Barret nodded in agreement.

"So tell me about Ellie then." Barret invited as Violet smiled happily.

"Well, Ellie…" Violet began giddily as she settled in and took advantage of the fact that they could talk for now without anyone overhearing them.

#Why So Jaded?#Why So Jaded? Chapter 12 #Synlet #Violet Parr #Buddy Pine #Bartholomew Pine #Barret Pine #the incredibles #modern AU #Corporate espionage AU

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