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busines-as-unusual · 10 days

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˖ ࣪ ⭑⟡Chapter 5 - Some Pumpkins ⟡⭑ ࣪ ˖

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You worried your audience with Charlie was last minute, but Alastor assured you the princess was more than accommodating and flexible. The meeting with Blitzø went unmentioned. You didn’t want to reveal that in case it fell through… and you didn’t want to relive that headache.

Instead, you filled Charlie in on your ideas for the hotel. If variety was what you were offering, then the entertainment should be spread out throughout three weekends. First a day of musical acts à la Woodstock with far fewer unplanned pregnancies. Week two would be a medley of one-act stage plays; bite-size stories for easy consumption. And finally, the pièce de résistance, a show-stopping musical.

Redemption. Second chances. The inherent goodness of doing good. These themes would be the twine that tied it all together. It was what the hotel stood for, after all. You sold it so well you almost convinced yourself.

Admittedly, you weren’t entirely sure if the Princess would be sold on your idea. It was a little bloated; your penchant for greed lent to your indecisiveness and you decided to throw everything into the pot and create an overstuffed medley. There was a reason you were a financier and not a creative.

You should’ve guessed that Charlie was a firm believer in the old adage of the more the merrier. She practically buzzed with excitement, her words a hundred kilometers a minute with questions and ideas. How Vaggie was able to wrangle her girlfriend and calm her down, you had no clue.

You scribbled down a list of musicals Charlie could pick through. You assured her your players had all of them memorized forwards and back.

“As for the one-act plays,” you continued. “I can cash in a favor and get some scripts done in about a month or so, three weeks tops if I threaten them a little, haha.”

Only Alastor laughed, and that was more than an adequate reaction.

Everything was going like gangbusters with the hotel for the next few weeks. You placed someone from your theater company in charge of finding musical talent, someone you knew had a finger on the pulse of the hottest trends. Audition notices were put up all around the city and set to take place a week from then. All the while your people worked on the nuts and bolts of this venture, allowing you to focus on the big picture. Business was as smooth as bourbon.

You’d work at the hotel a few days at a time to discuss business with Charlie and Vaggie. Afterward, you’d find yourself at the bar, often accompanied by Angel Dust. You quickly grew close to him after a chat over a few cocktails. The man was a riot and hilariously filthy. Talks with him and Husk would sometimes run for hours.

And Alastor…

He'd surprisingly given you space during this time, much to your relief… and disappointment. When he had to meet with you, he kept the conversation professional and strictly on the project. When you two crossed paths he’d greet you politely before taking off to handle other matters.

It made your job a lot easier but did nothing for the tedious ache in your chest. If you were a paranoid woman, you’d say he’s avoiding you, but since you were not a paranoid woman you knew better than to think that.

It didn’t stop you from overthinking it though.

Had you done something to offend him or said something to put him off? You couldn’t imagine you did. He got a kick from watching you squirm with Blitzø. He seemed to enjoy your discussion about music. Okay, so maybe talking about how you fucked Blitzø was distasteful, but he’d heard filthier words walking down the street, he’s in Hell!

You had to accept the fact that he was simply busy. He had a job to do, and so did you.

Still, you found your breakfasts rather lonely and unsatisfactory now, and it wasn’t the Vox brand Voot Loops (that would surely give you diabetes if you weren’t already dead.) Alastor filled an empty spot at your table with his terrific company and conversation.

The absolute bastard.

The day you two returned from I.M.P. he gave you a key to a room in case you changed your mind. He even made it a point to let you know that if you ever needed him you should come by his radio tower, as he spent most of his time there rather than in his room.

You politely accepted the key but promised yourself never to step foot in that room. You weren’t about to let yourself even entertain that fantasy.

Okay, you were, but not in the hotel! You’d do that in the safety of your home with a big glass of wine and an Asmodean vibrator.

Speaking of your home, that was where you currently were. Pouring sugary cereal into an oversized bowl and contemplating whether this fine meal would pair well with a book or the radio.

Lately, more often than not, you chose the radio.

Switching it on, you had zero seconds to prepare for the assault of Alastor's honeyed voice. It haunted you, wrapping around you and forcing you to listen. No… this was a choice and you chose to listen to him talk about music, news, and food, intercut with the occasional sadistic joke. You wondered if you were beginning to like Alastor tormenting you. You always had a bit of a masochistic streak…

But listening to Alastor’s voice was lacking in comparison to his physical presence. You remedied this by showing up at the hotel with catered breakfast in tow whenever you had an excuse a reason to go in early. It was a subtle way to show appreciation, not at all obvious or desperate behavior.

Your rotary phone ranged in the middle of your brainstorming more excuses to see Alastor. You stood to answer, the voice on the other end speaking before you had the chance to say ahoy-hoy.

“You're in.” It was Blitzø.

“Can you be more specific, hun?” You spooned another bite of cereal into your mouth.

“I got you a meeting with Fizz and Asmodeus. You got yourself thirty minutes to get your tail down here and make your pitch.”

You gagged on your spoon. “Shit, Blitzø! Thirty minutes? You couldn't have called me sooner?”

“Hey, I called you the first chance I got, bitch! Those two are busy as fuck all the time so you're lucky I was able to pull this off for you. You know a thank you would be nice.”

Blitzø was right, as much as you hated to admit it. Despite everything he has been a great help considering the stunts you pulled.

You sighed, deciding to put your ego aside for a moment. “Thank you, Blitzø.”

“You're welcome, skank~” You could hear the smug grin through the receiver.

You’re sure you hit a pedestrian or two on your way to Imp City. In Blitzø’s dimly lit office, he introduced you to Fizzarolli and his partner, the sin of lust himself, Asmodeus. Blitzø mentioned that you'd be meeting with them both but it didn't fully sink in until you were in his presence.

Asmodeus radiated pure sex appeal. The Prince was one of the few rulers in Hell you truly admired. Unlike that degenerate Valentino, whose lustful machinations practically glorified furtive abuse, Asmodeus fully embodied the side of lust you delighted in. The playful game two (or more) people shared, the raw and uncut passion, the excitement, the fun. Asmodeus was the class to Valentino’s trash. You’d kill to go to Ozzie’s.

Seriously. You’ve killed for less.

After greetings and over thanking them for their time, you paced back and forth, presenting your pitch for Fizzarolli to perform at the hotel. It was pure brown-nosing but it was honest: all of Hell saw him defy Mammon and give him an unabashed middle finger. Sinners looking to turn over a new leaf and defy their masters would no doubt be inspired by his story alone.

“Even as a ‘lowly imp’,” you said, throwing in dismissive air quotes, “you were able to pave your own way despite your station in Hell. Your story is exactly what we need to convince sinners that change is possible at the Hazbin Hotel.”

Asmodeus nodded along in delight, obviously in total agreement with you singing his partner’s praises. He cooed at Fizzarolli, reiterating your stated points, albeit in a much sweeter way.

“Deepthroat his cock a little more, Tem,” Blitzø said. He stuck around, feet up on his desk, to watch the meeting despite his presence being unnecessary. “I can still see a little shaft left.”

You held your smile but flipped him off behind your back. He flipped you back with both hands and his tongue out, the adorable fucking man-gremlin.

“Blitzø’s right,” Fizzarolli said. “Well, sorta. You don't have to keep glazing me, I was already halfway on board.”

“You sure you want to do this show, Froggy?” Asmodeus asked, his voice soft and etched with concern.

“Why not? It could be fun and besides, Charlie is a sweetheart. Who could turn her down?”

Asmodeus chuckled, hand tenderly stroking his love's shoulder. “I can't argue with you there.”

Something about seeing an imp, someone whom Hell regarded to be almost the lowest of the low, with one of Hell's royalty, made you feel… sad? Angry?

No… this was envy. It tasted bitter in your mouth and weighed heavy in your bones. You forced yourself to smile through the rest of the meeting.

You didn’t consider yourself underneath Alastor, but he was definitely out of your reach, like a sweet ripe fruit perched way too high on a tree branch. Climbing to get it would only result in you plummeting to your doom.

The banter, the tender looks, the soft reaffirming touches Fizzarolli and Asmodeus shared were beyond adorable. But you couldn’t simply appreciate the warm displays of affection, no, you plagued yourself with impossible fantasies of sharing moments like that with him.

You turned up the music on your car radio, but you couldn’t shake the thoughts all the way to the hotel. Of Alastor praising you, of supporting you, of loving you.

Fucking nope to all of that! No time to entertain stupid fantasies! You just pulled one of Hell’s biggest celebrities into doing what is essentially charity work. You’re a capable, business-savvy, cold-blooded bitch, not some love-struck sap who gets so lost in daydreams she drives on the sidewalk.

“Oh shit.”

You yanked the steering wheel and swerved back onto the road, ignoring the honking, shouts, and bullets sent your way.

What you couldn’t ignore was the voice creeping under your skin calling you selfish for wanting that from him in the first place. The voice that suspiciously sounded like your mother chastised your greed, harshly reprimanding you for only thinking of others in terms of what they could do for you, give to you, offer you.

You knew every word that ever came out of her mouth only served to hurt you. Ignoring her, whether her words were real or imagined, was the only way you could ever hope to deal with her.

But you were never very good at that.

It wasn’t true anyway. You knew it wasn’t. If given the impossible chance to give those things to Alastor, you’d do it with a smile on your face. You’d do it even with no promise of him ever reciprocating.

The realization scared you more than driving into oncoming traffic.

Weeks passed and all was going well with the hotel’s venture with you. Alastor often caught you with Charlie or Vaggie going over plans or reviewing the talents. Now and then he would provide input and assistance but otherwise, he kept his distance and carried out his usual duties with the hotel.

As predicted you began to miss his presence. He didn’t fail to notice that you’d come early with catering or stay behind at the bar as the weeks passed. Every time your gaze lingered on him too long and you thought he didn’t notice, he’d revel in the attention you desperately didn’t want to give him. You were getting worse at hiding this. Did you even notice?

Occasionally in the afternoons and sometimes the evening, he caught you at the bar chatting with Angel Dust and Husker. You had too much in common with the effeminate spider; the dialogue between you two often read like a script of one of his boss’s repugnant pornos.

He failed to find an opening to get you alone, especially when Angel’s equally loud friend, Cherrie, would occasionally join you two there. He considered accompanying you at the bar anyway, but with Husker there, he’d no doubt comment on Alastor’s odd behavior. The ex-Overlord was annoyingly observant for a drunkard.

Despite all that your mask was back on your face, pristine and unfaltering. He was making good progress with you only to hit a roadblock. He was back to square one, viewing you from the outside like everyone else.

Alastor couldn’t have that.

Why exactly this bothered him went largely unexamined. Alastor wasn’t one to ask why he felt what he felt and simply accepted things as they were. There was no use in dwelling on understanding feelings when one could simply act on them.

Still why you affected him like this was unusual for him. While you were a fascinating creature to observe he didn’t quite know why he’d fixated on you in particular.

Finding more out about you would surely scratch that itch. He knew you were a trove of secrets; after unearthing a few he needed to find the rest.

What else were you hiding?

Charlie's little games would have to do for now.

It happened one slow morning when you came in bearing breakfast. You were a gem, remembering everyone’s preferred drinks, including his preference for coffee. Charlie suggested you participate in a trust exercise and you agreed.

Alastor wasn’t surprised that you were already taken in with this group. He couldn’t blame you. Once upon a time, he wanted nothing to do with these misfits, but they were, admittedly, an entertaining and endearing bunch.

You climbed on the stage. The silly trust exercise required you to share something personal about yourself and then fall backward off the stage to be caught by the others below you. Alastor watched a few steps behind the group, content to watch in silence but with no intention of actively participating.

You swayed from side to side, face bunched in thought. “Let’s see… uh, I like to dance? My tail is prehensile?”

As if to demonstrate, your tail wrapped wound your leg.

“Oooh!” Angel Dust shouted in false interest. “Next you wanna tell us ya favorite color? Or who you have a crush on?”

A roll of your eyes. “Har-dee-har. Zip your lip.” A moment of thought, then you grinned like you got a wicked idea and snapped your fingers. “I got one! I love collecting cutlery.”

You hiked up your dress. Before anyone could react or protest, you revealed a garter holding several small blades wrapped around your thigh. “See?”

That little display elicited a laugh from Angel, and mixed reactions ranging from impressed to disgust from the others. Alastor had to admit he was taken aback by your reveal. He even let out a small chuckle at your joke.

“Temerity,” Charlie said in that soft voice she used when she was trying to be gentle with another’s feelings, “the secrets should be more emotional and vulnerable, and less… bladed.”

You frowned and dropped the hem of your dress. Clearly, you weren’t willing to divulge your vulnerabilities so easily. “What do you want to know? I’m an open book.”

A blatant lie. Alastor bit back laughter, although his shadow displayed blatant mirth.

Charlie tapped her chin. “Maybe… you can tell us what is important to you! Something you hold very dear.”

Your expression shifted. The playful guarded attitude gave way to thoughtful contemplation. You opened your mouth, then shut it quickly before deciding to finally speak.

”When I was alive, my mother took me to see A Doll’s House. It’s my favorite play.”

Alastor was familiar with the play; the tale of a housewife becoming disillusioned with her life and marriage before leaving it behind to find her own identity. It was an excellent story. While it lacked the energy and flare he’d come to associate with you, it’s obvious why one would hold it in such high regard.

Angel Dust scoffed, folding both sets of arms in disappointment at your revelation. “Seriously? That’s all you got?”

“Hey, that play changed my life! It’s not my fault you’re uncultured. Now catch me.” You practically threw yourself backward into their arms, giggling when they nearly dropped you.

Alastor could tell you thought you played it safe with your secret. One’s favorite media rarely betrayed their true nature, but you spoke its name with such reverence it was easy to tell that a story about a woman taking control over her life meant a great deal to you.

He hadn’t gotten to know you when you both were alive— only having the smallest glimpse of who you were— but he remembered you clearly. You were as lively then as you were now, vibrant and blithe. He knew your deal with Roman had momentarily clipped your wings in Hell, but what had held you back in life? And more interestingly, how did you overcome it?

Then came the day when you kicked down the door to announce you got that imp celebrity to agree to the show.

Charlie and the others were abuzz with questions and praise for your accomplishment. Notably— and humorously— you left out any mention of the imp that annoyed you.

“This is such great news!” Charlie clapped in excitement. “We should celebrate.”

Your ears flicked in that way when you got an idea. “You know, none of you have patronized my club. I’d be more than happy to give you all the VIP treatment. And of course free drinks.”

“I’m in!” Angel cheered, and the others followed suit in his excitement.

Alastor turned on his heel, preparing to excuse himself from this little escapade. Quick as a blink, you blocked his path. “Oh no, mister man. You’re coming, too.”

You smirked up at him, and he couldn’t tell if you were daring him to accept or decline your offer. What would devastate you more? What would be the more entertaining outcome?

“Oh, that’s a great idea, Alastor!” Charlie said. “Tem’s been here a dozen times, it’s only fair.”

He hummed, pretending to give it thought. He’d made up his mind but wanted to see what you’d do.

You twirled and walked away, hiding your face from view, much to his mild annoyance. “Hey, do what you want, but you’re missing out. My place is no fleabag dump, it’s a pretty classy and respectable joint. But if you’d rather stay here—”

“Now now, my dear, I didn’t say no.” He vanished into shadows and reappeared in front of you causing you to stumble back. “I think an evening out is well deserved for all. Especially when we’ll be hosted by our lovely hotel benefactor.”

Was this your desired outcome? One would think so with how you pressed him. Alastor expected you to stiffen, your tail to swish in a way that told him you were nervous even if it didn’t show on your face.

But instead, your smile simply grew as you led everyone out the door. “Excellent! Let’s shake a leg, then.”

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A/N: I had to split this chapter up because I was going crazy, lol. It was originally twice as long.

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#hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x oc #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #reader insert #reader fic #alastor x you #hazbin x oc #alastor x female reader #reader

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yandere-daydreams · 2 years

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Title: Heaven's Tower.

Written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!OC x F. Reader.

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: Non/Con, Heavy Bondage, Overstimulation, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Themes of Forced Dependency, Slight Infantalization, and Mentions of Death.

[Part One]

Your apathy didn’t last very long. Celia’s hand fell to your chest, her golden threads wrapping around your wrists and bitinginto your skin, and you realized she wasn’t going to let you drift that far. Or let you drift at all, really.

Not if it meant your attention would be on anything but her.

You made a half-hearted effort to sit up, to resist, but her strings drew taut and dragged your backward, only stopping when your body hit the ornamental headboard your hands had been secured well above your head. Impulsively, stupidly, you tried to fight against that, too, but her threads snaked farther down – to your forearms, then your biceps, only tapering off at your shoulders, leaving you unable to do so much as move without their hold growing tighter, cutting deeper. It didn’t hurt, but you could already tell that it could, if she wanted it to. If you gave her a reason to think it would be more entertaining to make it so it did.

With nothing left to do, you looked up at her, glared, did your best to scowl in a way you already knew she wouldn’t find intimidating, not after so many weeks of watching you handle a sword like a child might wave around their first mock-weapon. “Stop. Don’t—”

“Don’t touch me? Get away? Leave me alone?” Her voice was low, distant, and she was already distracted, nimble fingertips working at the hem of your shirt. You’d lost your armor on the last floor to an amorphous, grabbing thing with as many hands as it had pointed, bloody teeth (a placement you were beginning to think was far less coincidental than you'd hoped), but you doubted a little more metal would’ve done you any good. With a flick of her wrist, a flash of silver light, two claw-like ornaments appeared on her smallest and ring fingers, and without care nor hesitancy, she dragged the sharped tips down the center of your shirt, letting the tattered material fall to either side of your chest. “You should relax, princess. You’ll just get yourself worked up, and—” She paused, meeting your eyes, a cruel smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “We’ve all seen how… absent-minded you can be when you’re overwhelmed.”

She was doing it to provoke you, to make you thrash and yell and spit vile things until she threw her head back and laughed and you felt stupid for ever indulging her. With no small amount of restraint, you bit down on the side of your tongue, turning away from her, and Celia chuckled, already moving on. You felt her hands on your hips, another pair of golden strings wrapping around your legs, beginning to edge your pants downward before deeming the task too tedious and tearing through the fabric, only stopping briefly to clear away the scraps before curling around your legs. “Not that you’ve ever been very tactical. I mean, getting yourself hurt, trying to part ways, going so far as to lie to me – if anything, we should be starting with a punishment rather than a reward.” She bent down, her lips ghosting faintly over the lower apex of your diaphragm. “I’m so nice, aren’t I? Truly, if there ever was a goddess of mercy, you’re sharing her company now.”

Again, you refused to dignify her with a response, and again, she proved that ignoring her simply wasn’t one of your (increasingly more limited) options. The way she touched you was surprisingly utilitarian – graceful, sure, but planned in a way you couldn’t ignore as a hand came to rest just above your hip, another cupping your now-exposed cunt. You flinched back, attempted to clamp your thighs together, to cut her off, but her golden strings pulled your legs apart without a trace of effort and Celia only smiled, grinned, drew back just far enough to kiss your collarbone as she ground the heel of her palm into your clit – drawing out a choked gasp and forcing you to jolt violently. Predictably, she wasn’t concerned. You couldn’t be sure why you still expected her to be.

“Poor little thing.” Pitchy, mocking, drawn out to the point of pure infantilization. You looked away, but it did little to block her out, to dampen the sensation of two calloused fingers tracing over the length of your slit. “I kept an eye on you, y’know. Before we met, I mean.” Two fingers, pushing into you, moving too slowly to let you escape any part of it. “How long has it been since you had any fun? Six months? Seven? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so much as try, even though I gave you plenty of time to yourself.” She clicked her tongue, let her breath fan over the dip of your shoulder. “I can’t even begin to imagine how needy you must be, princess.”

You grit your teeth, balled your fists. “I’m not—”

“Is that true?” She didn’t so much as attempt to let you finish, pulling away and raising her hand, spreading her fingers apart and forcing you to see the slick, translucent threads that ran between them. It was all you could do to shut your eyes, to pretend you couldn’t hear the sound of her breathless laughter. “You don’t have to be ashamed. From now on, you’ll have me to take care of you.”

She didn’t wait for a response, not that you would’ve been able to give one. In a fraction of a second, she was inside of you again, thrusting her fingers into your cunt with just a little more force than she absolutely had to use. With her claws folded into her palm, she spared no kindness, scissoring you open, grinding into you, finding every spot that made you tense and squirm and abusing them, abusing you, all for her own entertainment. Even with your eyes closed, you could still feel her stare prying into you, still feel her grin pressing into your flesh as she kept you pinned and vulnerable underneath her. Her fingers curled, the pad of her thumb pressing into your clit, and you were thrown over the edge as abruptly as you’d been brought to it, going rigid as you cried out involuntarily. You didn’t want to, you did everything you could to fight it, but resistance was futile, as useless as ever trying to escape her at all. As useless as ever trying to get out of here. As useless as doing anything in this dungeon but lying down and waiting for something awful and inorganic to come along and put you out of your misery.

In the back of your mind, you expected her to stop after your strangled moans died into clipped whimpers, after your body went slack and you began to twitch more out of overstimulation than overwhelming pleasure. But, that would’ve been too easy, too kind. Instead, Celia only moved faster, only drove her fingers in deeper, her mouth drifting from your neck to your chest, grazing over your collarbone before finding your nipple and biting down, making no attempt not to break the skin, let alone be gentle. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt.

It hurt, and yet, for the second time in minutes, your found your vision burning white, your mouth falling open as the world caved in on itself. You would’ve clung to her if you could’ve, but you settled for arching your back, for feeling her weight against yours. You could feel yourself clenching around her, convulsing underneath her, and while you hated it, while you hated her, there wasn’t anything you could do to stop, not until your energy was spent, not until you couldn’t move at all. Only then, she stopped, drew back, met your eyes as she slid two fingers into her mouth, groaning audibly as she tasted you. Grinning all the while, of course.

It struck you, at that moment, just how drastically you’d misread her during your short time together in the dungeon. You thought she’d been a soldier, or a knight – someone brave and valiant and too confident in her own skills to ever take your advice, not that you’d ever had much to give. She seemed so… so cocky, now, so obviously in control, a beast leering over her latest kill. It was no wonder she’d never needed your help. It seemed obvious to you, now - watching her summon her golden threads back to her, feeling them uncoil from your limp body and return to their master before dissipating into nothing more than light – that this was her natural terrain, that she’d never been scared. You couldn’t remember if she’d ever pretended to be, either. She wouldn’t have needed to. You’d been so desperate for someone, anyone to be with, you would’ve believed anything she said.

“See? Doesn’t that feel better?” It didn’t, but you couldn’t say anything, your throat dry and your mouth filled with ash. Celia went on, unbothered. “That’s why I paid attention to you, you know.” If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve mistaken her tone for something calm, for something docile. You wouldn’t have noticed the subtle edge, the trace of something sharp that laced every word. You wouldn’t have thought to look. “Normally, my heroes allow their spirits to lull. They grow weary, after some time. Their pace slows, their blades rust, and they find themselves slogging through the depths of my tower until they’ve lost the strength to so much as stand. Not you, though. You just kept climbing. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought you were trying to seek me out. It was…” She trailed off, sighed. “Is cute the right word? Pathetic? Endearing?”

You felt her shift forward, resting her hand on your upper thigh. “Even if I know you didn’t do it all alone.”

Something sharp and clumsy began to claw its way up your throat, fighting to move forward despite your attempts to swallow it down. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“And I don’t think you’ve realized where you are, yet.” On your hip, now, her fingertips pressing into your flesh. “Do you think I missed all your little friends, love? Do you take me for such an ignorant caretaker, I can’t even keep track of all the little mice running around within my walls?”

She shouldn’t know about this. No one should know about this. No one but you. “That’s not—”

“How many were there?” You didn’t respond. She only chuckled, kissing the dip of your shoulder. “This doesn’t have to be so difficult, love. How many?”

You hesitated, but not for very long. “There were four of us.”

Her mouth was on your neck, her teeth against your skin. The ceiling spun above you, blurred and nonsensical. No different from the rest of her hellscape. “And did you ever try to go back for them?”

It was a stupid question. Even if you’d wanted to go back, you couldn't have. The corridor was completely sealed off, and even if it hadn’t been, no one could’ve survived that kind of heat, made it out of a fire that intense. You'd heard the screaming. No one could’ve survived that. No one would’ve wanted to. “I—It wasn’t my fault. They were the ones who wanted to stay. They thought it was safe.”

“Sounds like someone has a guilty conscience.” A kiss to the corner of your mouth, another to your temple, the second lingering for so, so much longer than it had to. By the time she pulled away, her smile had softened into something you might’ve been able to call ‘comforting’. “We’ll find a way to fix that.”

Out of instinct and little else, you opened your mouth, prepared to ask her what she meant, but your answer came suddenly, immediately, roughly, in the form of a thick spiral of golden threads wrapping around your head, lodging itself past your lips and over your tongue. Another pair snaked around your ankles, one drawing your right leg outward while the other wound up to your thigh, the tapered end tracing over your slit. You shrieked into her threads, but Celia just smiled, fell low enough for your chest to press into hers and her warmth to grow unbearable. “We’re going to have some fun, that’s all,” She muttered, something playful and repulsive in her tone. “I promise, you’ll enjoy yourself.”

She kissed your forehead, drawing back and settling into the space between your legs. You attempted to tear at your gag, to kick against her, but your bonds tightened and Celia caught your wrists, pinning them to your stomach with an inhumane sort of strength. “Consider it a reward. To welcome my beloved little princess to her tower.”

You only screamed, the sound muffled and pathetic. Predicable, she didn’t seem to care.

The threads weren’t gentle. Nothing she was doing to you was gentle, but somehow, this felt rougher, more sudden, more intrusive as the tapered point forced itself into your entrance, filling you up in a way her calloused fingers hadn’t been able to. You didn’t let yourself look at it, allowing your head to lull to the side, your vision to blur with (what you hoped weren’t) tears, but you could feel it – thick, ridged, textured in a way that made your body go stiff and what was left of your mind melt as it pushed farther into you, as you were given time to feel something other than total, numbing terror. It didn’t hurt, you knew what pain felt like and you knew that this wasn’t pain, but the pressure was almost insufferable, pressing into your core, lodging itself in the back of your throat, making you feel like you couldn’t move without letting the tendril slip deeper, without letting Celia push more of you out to make room for herself. It felt wrong. It felt artificial.

It felt good, and you hated it.

It was a small, bitter kindness that she began slowly, flicking her fingers back and leading her strings as they began to move, to fuck you in abrupt, shallow thrusts that grew longer, more substantial as your toes curled and your hips bucked against your will. You tried not to react, not to feed into her sadistic delusion that she was doing any of this to help you, but you couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop yourself from whimpering behind your gag as the tendril’s pace fell into an aching rhythm, as your restraints forced your legs to bend and fold back, until your knees dug into your chest and her tendril was allowed to drill into you with no limits, with nothing to stop it from plunging as deeply as it’d like to as forcefully as it’d like to – which as to say, as forcefully as Celia wanted it to. As forcefully as she possibly could. As forcefully as she thought you could handle, without breaking you completely.

With one last kiss to your cheek, Celia let go of your hands – not that there was anything you could use them for, at that point. You were reduced to clawing at the mattress, to balling up the sheets in your fists as you felt her mouth on your hip, then your inner thigh as she sucked deep, harsh bruises into your exposed skin, forming a trail of lovebites down your midriff and over your leg. Before you could realize what she was doing, what she was working towards, her lips sealed around your clit and she took to what she seemed to do best – hurting you, making you thrash and squirm and scream, for as little good as any of it did. You couldn’t stop yourself, couldn’t do anything as her hands came up to your waist, as the tip of her tongue rolled over your bundle of nerves and every part of your body went still. You reacted on impulse, your fingers soon tangled in her hair and your nails embedded in her scalp, but her only reaction was a tightened grip, a soft moan into your cunt that left you clenching around her tendril. Torture. It was torture.

It was torture, and she was more than happy to carry it out.

Impossibly, it only got worse. The tendril sped up, began to curl and twitch inside of you in addition to its terrible thrusting, and Celia managed to bring herself closer, to run the flat of her tongue over your clit in a way that left you struggling to breathe between pitchy whines and cracked sobs. You couldn’t be sure when you started crying, but you couldn’t deny it anymore, couldn’t put a stop to the tears flowing freely down your cheeks despite your shut eyes, despite your attempts to convince yourself that nothing she did had any effect on you. What little dignity you had left was already starting to slip away, drained out of you by the feeling of her threads against the walls of your pussy, the pressure on your clit, the pure heat in your core—

Celia hummed, loudly, purposefully, and your back arched off of the mattress, a silent cry slipping past your lips as everything went blank. It took long, agonizing seconds for your body to come down, for your pussy to stop clenching around her, and even then, her golden threads lingered, only dissolving once Celia had her fill of seeing you suspended and spent.

As soon as she let you go, you collapsed, every ounce of your energy drained, pumped back into you, and drained again. You felt the mattress dip, and vaguely, you were aware of Celia moving towards you, positioning herself at your side, cupping your cheek with one hand while the other propped up her head, allowing her to stare down at you like some great, condescending idol. You didn’t feel angry. That would’ve meant you could think, that you could recognize her as more than a dull, murky blur. That would’ve meant that you could feel much of anything, that she hadn’t already pushed you far past the point of total numbness.

“I think,” Low, soft, just barely above a whisper. You failed to stir, but once again, Celia didn’t seem to mind, only laughing as she went on.

“That you and I are going to have a lot of fun together, princess.”

#yandere #yandere love #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere prompts #yandere oneshot #yandere commissions #writing commissions #commissions #yanderecore #yancore

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taeyongs-scar · 2 years

Note

Babes! Plz do yunho smut of s.o sending a suggestive pic or text to him infront of boys/public and he wasn’t able to control himself and it leads from there. Wtv works for you! 🙈

Summary: Yunho receives some nice little photos and practice has to end early

Paring: Yunho x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

A/N: Welp first request down! #score! Anyways I hope you enjoy and it’s up to your expectations! Send more requests and I promise I’ll get around to them <3

Warnings: Back scratches, Oral (F recieving), Sending nudes, Public viewing of nudes

Word Count: 1,574

You sat on the couch watching yet another episode of your favorite tv show. If you recounted correctly this is your fifth episode today. You’d finished everything you needed to do for the day, including cleaning the kitchen and the bedroom of your apartment. Before swiftly moving onto the rest of it from your untamed boredom. So now your small apartment was more than clean and you sat alone in the dark waiting for your boyfriend to come home. He’s stuck at an all day practice and you didn’t think it would last all day and all night…

You checked the clock, 10:30 pm. It was time for him to come home and you knew exactly how to get that to happen.

You got up from the leather couch, finally out from underneath the fluffy blankets and stretched. It was a little scary seeing as you heard a few joints pop a little louder than usual. Regardless, you made your way to the bathroom, snapping a few pics in just the way that really made your ass look good. You looked through the couple you took, deciding that one wasn’t enough, you tried another angle. Surprisingly you made it work, after all you’re not exactly a nudes master. Looking through what you took, you choose the best two and send them to Yunho.

“Limited time offer <3”

[ 2 Images Attached ]

You paced your bathroom almost anxiously, now realizing that this might’ve not been the best idea. Thoughts of the other members seeing it, Yunho getting upset with you, and just the pure anxiety of waiting for a response ran through your mind at a thousand miles a second. Heaving a deep sigh you mentally ordered yourself to put the damn phone down. He’ll see it when he sees it. And god knows when he sees it, he’ll be running home to you. So that’s exactly what you did, you set the phone down, going back to your show and hesitantly pressing play.

Practice was long and tedious, Yunho had been here since eight in the morning. It was currently 10:40 and they just now got to take another thirty minute break. They’d been preparing for this comeback for two weeks so far and it was really go time. Learning the choreo, practicing the performance, looking through makeup and hair ideas with the stylists, singing the song, everything you could possibly think of, they’re working on it. And don’t get him wrong, he loves his job! But it’s so damn tiring. Yunho doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the long days. He missed you… These days were his least favorite since he had to be away from you the longest, excluding time on tours. That was a whole different beast. Of course the day is still fun considering he’s with his members, but you can only stand a group of boys for so long.

So when he checked his phone and saw you texted he couldn’t help but smile. Maybe an I miss you text? Or a support text? I love you maybe? At this point he’s thankful with anything you could say to him since he’s been away too long. Unlocking his phone he’s taken straight to your messages, eyes going wide when he sees what you’ve sent. You dirty girl… The man has to rub his eyes to make sure what you sent him isn’t just a figure of his imagination. Sure enough, it’s real. He gets himself far enough away from the guys so this marvelous sight can only be seen by him. Clicking on the first image he practically drools with what he sees. Goddamn it you’re not even dressed up and you’ve sure as hell got his attention. Just in your regular black panties you stand with your back arched just enough for your ass to really pop. He wishes you sent a picture with nothing on at all. Swiping to the next photo his eyes practically pop out of his head. You sit with one leg up on the bathroom counter, your ass looked so good. It was driving him crazy. He doesn’t even know how much longer this stupid practice is. And when he rereads your text he suddenly decides he doesn’t care. Who is he to let this delicious offer go to waste?

Quickly shutting off his phone and shoving it in his shorts pocket while putting on his best worried/ disappointed face. He slowly walks over to the guys, all of them immediately seeing the worried expression plastered on his face.

“What’s wrong Yunho?” Yeosang asks, taking a large sip of his water.

“Y/n… They’ve gotten sick and they don’t have any medicine at home… I’m sorry to interrupt practice but I-“

“It’s good Yunho, we’ll fill you in on whatever else we do. Make sure y/n is alright.” Hongjoong says with a pleasant smile, a tinge of worry also laced in his voice. All of the guys cared about you so to hear you got sick definitely worried them all just a little.

Yunho nodded quickly and grabbed his stuff, practically running out the door and back to your place. He was out of breath by the time he reached your apartment complex. He took a moment to catch his breath outside the door, praying he wouldn’t come off as too desperate. When he was collected he pushed open the door, seeing you curled up on the couch under your favorite blanket. This wasn’t all that uncommon for him to come home to, but tonight he wasn’t interested in sitting and having a tv binge night.

“So what made you think to text me while I’m practicing?” Yunho asks in a sultry tone.

Your head snaps to look at him before getting up and standing in front of him. “I wanted you home.”

“Well you got it baby,” he captures you in a passionate kiss, something he’s been waiting to do all day. His hands slide down your sides and roughly grab your ass. To which you can’t help but let out a yelp at the sudden grab.

Yunho pulls you into his arms, carrying you toward the bedroom. He wastes no time throwing you on the bedsheets you unfortunately just changed, looking you over as you lay splayed out on the white sheets. He takes off his clothes, leaving him in just his boxers. It’s obviously no secret how excited he is, and the bulge certainly isn’t helping hide anything. You lay there with your arms above your head, laying all sexy, ready for him and it’s absolutely driving the poor man wild.

He stalks closer, quickly on top of you and taking off your bra, letting it discard to the floor just like your small black panties. His warm lips kiss down your body, over the swell of your breasts, down your beautiful stomach, and of course, to your now glistening core. He loved when you were so ready for him. How damn pretty you looked. Looking up at you from his position between your thighs, he begins licking up your juices. The man looks at you like a damn saint as he sins right below you. Gripping your thighs as his tongue explores deeper. You whimpered as the pleasure grew, feeling your legs tighten to hold his face in place. Damn did he fucking love that. He softly pressed a finger into you, stretching you out slightly before inserting another. Two was your sweet spot and he knew it. With his tongue on your clit and his fingers deep in you, you knew it was only a matter of time before you unraveled.

“Yunho! Fuck I’m close-“ You moan out, watching him work his skilled tongue over you.

“Come on my face baby. All over me.” He practically growled into you as he continued much more vigorously.

It was mere seconds before you were going to snap and you knew the feeling all too well. The toe curling sensation that you loved chasing with Yunho. It was like a tidal wave as it took you over. You could barely open your eyes to watch Yunho lick off your slick from his pretty face.

Your boyfriend gave you your moments to calm down, waiting for your chest to rise more evenly before pushing himself into you.

“Yunho what are you?-“

He looked down at you with a scoff, “you think you can just send me those pictures, get your high, and be done? You’re dead wrong baby. So fucking wrong.”

The look on his face was almost enough to make you finish again, seeing him practically fall apart at your warmth and how well you took him. He let out small grunts as he fucks you, not too fast but certainly not slow. He made sure to hit the spots that drove you wild, making you leave long red scratches down his perfect back.

“Harder baby. Leave marks your pretty marks on me” he moaned out as you scratched harder. You felt him still in you as he finishes, his head hanging from the pure pleasure.

As you ran your fingers over the deep scratches, Yunho whimpers. His body slightly shook at your touch. He loved it when you scratched him, when you continued until the poor boy bled. When he came down from his high he opened his beautiful eyes with a smile.

“Send me those pictures anytime baby.”

#kpop #fanfic #imagines #fanfiction #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez yunho #choi yunho #kpop smut

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violettelueur · 3 years

Text

— RYOMEN SUKUNA || LET ME MARK YOU THEN

↳ featuring : ryomen sukuna from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of sex, mention of hickeys and grammar issues

↳ form : imagine

↳ published : 22 january

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 3.7k

↳ synopsis : (modern!AU) after your lectures, you decided to pay your tattoo artist boyfriend a little visit only to then be persuaded to let him draw a tattoo design on you even though you never actually wanted a real one to be marked with.

↳ barista’s notes : just a little gift to you all before today’s episode and the reset the ‘coffees in progress’ list (wip) when i get enough sleep and after my disgusting online classes, i hope you enjoy the free cup of coffee everyone ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡ - also i feel like this is the longest imagine i have ever posted ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ

Having a morning full of tedious lectures was not someone’s ideal day and it was definitely not yours. Although, there was nothing you could do but pursue them through with as much enthusiasm and determination that you could possibly muster while being impatient about the hands on the clock taking forever to move a single inch.

However, at this moment in time, you were able to escape the suffocating lecture hall after many hours for today and was now walking down the busy streets of Tokyo with a white plastic takeaway bag in one hand while the other was occupied with your tote bag that was resting on your shoulder, which surprisingly kept hold of some of your textbooks as well as your laptop giving you some reassurance that the bag that your boyfriend gave you was going to last for quite some time.

Looking around the busy quarter of the capital, you began to notice a few high school students roaming about here and there with some hanging out with their friends - mostly likely going to a cafe or to the nearest karaoke lounge that they could find - while other were either rushing home as they entered the station or to their part-time jobs that they had managed to obtain for a few extra bucks to save up for their next step in life. Noticeably, there were also a few adults out and about with some working as street-food vendors selling delicious treats that you would be craving if you weren’t so full while others were dressed extremely professional with their laptops out on their cafe/restaurant table to what seemed like they were on their lunch break.

‘He should be on his lunch break right now, but if not, I’ll just put his food in the shop’s fridge’

Continue walking to your destination, you finally reached to a quieter area with the city leading you to then stand in front of a glass order with a ‘closed’ sign in front along with another extremely noticeable sign proudly stating ‘Malevolent Shine’ to which if you had said that to any tattoo fanatic within Japan, they would instantly know what you were talking about.

Opening the door, there was a sudden noise of a ring being heard leading you to immediately look up to see the silver bell that you told him to arrange since he always got annoyed about the number of potential clients popping up without his acknowledgement only to tell him that they didn’t book an appointment at all causing him to become more irritated - and as a matter of fact, you couldn’t blame him at all.

Looking around the tattoo shop that you had entered, there wasn’t a single person in sight leading you to come to the conclusion that you were right about his lunch break since his assistant would be at the front desk if they weren’t. Although there was no one to greet you, the dark atmosphere did. It gave an odd sense of comfort with its hints of red that could calm a customer down if they were worried about the tattoo they were committing to having on their body or if it was their first - especially when it came to him.

“Oya~ ain’t you a sexy customer? But I’m afraid we’re closed, but I don’t mind giving you a private session if you want, kitten” someone smoothly stated, leading your eyes to slowly shift to the person who was leaning against the desk with a confident smirk on his face. There he was, the mastermind behind the whole shop itself.

“Well, I’m not coming in for a tattoo but I am here to give a little gift, Sukuna,” you mischievously stated, as you lifted the white bag with the takeaway you had ordered for the man himself, leading him to look at you in surprised before tilting his head indicating you to come to the back with him.

Following his lead, you placed the bag on his table once you reached the backroom before placing your tote on the floor beside the table’s leg so it didn’t fall, letting any of your precious studious contents to be lost as well as avoiding any damage to your laptop.

“I’m surprised you’re using the bag, kitten,” Sukuna suddenly commented, as he sat on his chair while pulling out the white styrofoam box of Thai food that he always ordered along with a bento box that was wrapped in a black cloth.

“Well, how could I not? You did buy it for me,” you quietly mentioned as you took off your black longline coat before placing it behind your chair since there was nowhere else to put it.

“Did you make this?” Sukuna quickly questioned as he lifted the bento box causing you to nod at his question once you saw what he meant leading you to state, “I didn’t know if you were going to stay back tonight, so I prepared some food for you in case,” causing Sukuna to smirk since you were right about your assumption and it did catch him by surprise since he didn’t mention it to you today when he left your shared apartment.

“Thanks,” he quietly muttered before pulling his chair closer towards you so he could place a lingering kiss on your cheek to show his appreciation towards you. “How was class?” he then asked, as he began to unwrap the cloth of the box to your surprise since you bought his favourite item from the Thai restaurant but made no mention of it.

“Annoying, it was suffocating in there but the lecture was interesting so that’s a plus,” you answered, as you began to scan his messy desk that displayed the many drawings that he was working on. Some of the designs that Sukuna was drawing were almost complete, while others were in the same situation but for some odd reason, it was crossed out as if he was unsatisfied with the outcome that it was going to have which lead you to be perplexed since some of the drawings were incredibly detailed and beautiful. However, you didn’t have the eyes of an artist like your boyfriend did, instead, you had the eyes of someone that was able to analyse things exceedingly well hence why you decided to pursue a career as a criminal lawyer.

“How has the shop been while I was away?” you asked, as you carefully picked up one of the designs that the tattoo artist seemed to have scraped leading him to answer with an annoyed huff. “A pain, there’s been so many dumbass people coming in thinking they could just walk in and get a tattoo done immediately without even booking a meeting,” Sukuna answered before taking a bite of the soy-glazed fried chicken you made as he then continued with, “it was a good idea to get the bell since I could see if it was a customer I knew or not,”.

Looking at your boyfriend, you couldn’t help but smile at the man as he continuously munched the context in the box as if he hadn’t eaten in the past week when in reality he had been raiding the fridge back home only just this morning. Slowly, you turn your head back to the paper that you were holding as you continued to admire the work of art right in front of you.

To be honest, it was quite simple compared to all the other ones that were lying about on his work desk but that didn’t mean it wasn’t beautiful. The light sketch depicted a short section of a branch or stem decorated with different types of beautiful flowers and next to it was the same design with the only difference of it being coloured lightly in case the client wanted to have options.

“What happened here?” you asked before tilting the paper to the side, letting Sukuna have a glance at the design he decided to discard.

“Oh, the client cancelled since I wouldn’t have sex with her,” Sukuna casually stated leading you to nod before taking another look at the design with a small smile on your face. Sadly, it was such a waste since the design was beautiful and it was disappointing to not see Sukuna put this beautiful art into life.

Some people might wonder why you were so calm about the statement he had just given you, heck even his younger twin brother Itadori Yuji thought it was weird that it didn’t bother you as much as other girls would have been. The reason was that you were so used to him having female attention as well as male attention and it wasn’t a surprise when people would book an appointment with him just for a fling or hoping for something more than just that - and even though you were calm, there was also a hint of jealousy and fear within your heart that you couldn’t help.

It was like the first time you saw him in your second year of high school.

ꕥ

Stretching your arms, you had finally finished the last sheet of the budgets for the school clubs leading you to carefully clip the pile of sheets into the folder as you then stood up from your desk before quickly heading out of your homeroom, so you could give the documents to the student council president, who was a third-year within your school.

However, as you were walking past a few classrooms with some people greeting you with a smile, you came to a sudden halt when you saw a whole crowd of female and males students in front of you leading to a blockage of the halls and a blockage of the classroom you need to go through to hand the documents to your senior.

“Did you hear, I heard he was back?!”

“I can’t believe he’s back, I missed him so much!”

“I like Yuji’s kind and goofy personality, but how could you not love a bad boy like him?”

‘Bad boy?’

Carefully, you managed to find a gap between the sea of students and forcibly made yourself fit within the gap before badly struggling to make it through the arc of the classroom door leading you to nearly trip the second you got the chance to push through the gap to ender the class. Quickly looking around, you found your senior sitting next to someone who looked like your friend and basketball club member Itadori Yuji - well more like a mature replicant of the boy you were used to. However, unbothered by the sudden appearance of the new third-year, you speedily made your way to the council president and handed him the booklet that he needed today leading you to receive his gratitude.

Yet, before you could even take a single step away from your senior, you unexpectedly felt someone grab your wrist causing you to quickly turn around to find Itadori’s replica behind you leading to a few gasps coming from the students from the outside as well as in the homeroom.

“Is there an issue?” you firmly asked, as you looked down at his hand that had a tight grip on your wrist causing you to have a small glance at the two black bands that were tattooed around his wrist - even though it was prohibited to have any in your school, you weren’t the type to scold someone for having them since you weren’t sure on how the teacher’s thought it affected someone’s education.

“Have you ever thought about getting a tattoo?” the salmon-haired third-year curiously asked, as he began to admire your wrist by gently turning it for your veins to come into view before beginning to trace your skin with the tip of his thumb causing a light shiver to go down your spine due to the ticklish feeling as well as his deep voice which was the complete opposite to what you thought it was going to be.

‘So this is the infamous Sukuna everyone was talking about’

“Not really,” you answered as you looked at him causing his eyes to look back at you before you continued with “I don’t think it would suit me at all,”.

“I disagree,” Sukuna counteracted, as he went back to admire the blank canvas of your wrist that he wanted to draw on so badly. No not draw. Mark. “I think you’ll suit something, maybe something on your neck or collarbone at best actually,” Sukuna mentioned leading you to give him a confused expression before he then proceeded with his speech by saying, “I’ll convince you one day and mark you brat”,

‘What...did….he….just….call….me..?’

“Ah...good luck with that idiot,” you stated in an annoyed tone leading to a few of the admiring student to gasp at your wording as well as sudden confident as they were scared on what was going to happen to you now since Sukuna wasn’t the type to tolerate insults in a nice way no matter what gender you were. However, exceeding the audience’s assumptions, Sukuna began to smirk excitedly at your attitude as he suddenly found you more interesting than any other girl he has met at the back of the school.

“Be prepared, little kitten”

ꕥ

‘That nickname….’

Back then Sukuna was known to be a playboy from what you could recall, every week there was news on the new girl he had managed to convince to meet at the back alley of the school while you were just being a model student with the dream of going to law school. However, during the middle of the school year, you began to realise that the common scandalous news that seemed to be popular enough for it to be on the front cover of the newspaper began to gradually fade as Sukuna slowly pushed himself into your life since you were close with his twin brother due to your friend being part of the basketball team as the assistant coach - she even mentioned that ever since Sukuna came into your life he had stopped his acts and change slightly because of you to which, of course, you denied at the time.

It was during the first term of your third-year that you agreed to give Sukuna a chance since he was constantly annoying you by popping up at the school gate after school to ‘walk you home’ ever since his graduation - when in reality it was to take you out somewhere - without fail even when you had to stay in a few hours. However, you had given him three conditions since you were still conscious of the consequences of dating someone with such a disgraceful built reputation - much to his dismay, he shockingly agreed.

If you are going to have a fling with someone behind my back, don’t think about seeing or talking to me again.

I know you are sexually active, but you have to wait until I’m ready.

Don’t tattoo me.

Let’s just say that Sukuna had managed to keep condition number one in check and you didn’t have to worry about it at all, while with condition number two he didn’t have to wait that long for you to give in to your desires which you could tell he certainly enjoyed when you finally gave him the ‘okay’.

Number three though...

“Do you want to try that design out?”

Breaking from your daze, you quickly turned your head to find your boyfriend staring at you - with the bento box practically empty at this point - while tilting his head to the paper that was still within your grasp.

“I think you giving me hickeys are enough in my opinion, babe” you jokingly mentioned leading to both you and Sukuna laughing at each other slightly.

“I mean, do you want me to draw it on you to see how it looks?” he then asked, causing you to look at the floral design one last time before giving him a hesitant nod.

‘Trying it out won’t hurt right?’

“I need a confident answer little kitten, where did that feisty attitude of yours back in high school go?” Sukuna teased, causing you to give him the side glance before giving him the verbal permission that he wanted, leading him to smirk at you since knew his mockery would get you to give him what he wanted since you were also the stubborn type - a side that he always loved to play with.

Grabbing his pen and a black pot full of his thin-tipped coloured skin markers, he wheels his chair even closer to your before pausing, leading you to look at him in confusion since you had already pulled your wrist in front of him, the same area he had grabbed back in high school.

“You’re wearing a lot of clothing today,” Sukuna muttered as he began to fiddle with the collar of your white silk dress shirt causing you to look at him with extreme confusion before mentioning, “well it is getting colder since the Autumn season is coming around,” leading him to hum in an understanding tone as he continued to play with the smooth fabric.

“I want to draw on your collarbone area, I don’t want to draw on the area where the client wanted it to be,” Sukuna stated as he lightly pushed away your wrist leading you to realise why he paused. “You can,” you quickly mentioned leading the tattoo artist to look at you to see if you were lying, only to see nothing but the light of the trust within your eyes.

Slowly, Sukuna began to reach over to the top button to then unhook it from its loop before continuously doing the same with the others until enough skin of your shoulders were exposed with the top half of your shirt resting on the side of your arms to which then he slowly moved away the right-hand side of your bra strap to fully expose the canvas that he wanted to mark so eagerly.

Admiring the skin that was in front of him, Sukuna began to trace the area with his thumb before leaning in to place a chaste kiss on the same side of your neck before cradling your face on the other side with his other hand - as if it was a way for him to say ‘thank you’ for letting him do this.

Regrettably pulling away, Sukuna quickly grabbed his black pen as he then leaned in towards your collarbone to start drawing the outline of his design on his now favourite canvas causing you to shiver somehow due to how ticklish and weird the sensation felt when the ballpoint pen continuously gently gilded upon your skin. However, what got you shaking the most was the constant feeling of your boyfriend’s breath being felt on your upper body now that your shirt was basically off - it wasn’t completely off to the same feeling when you were underneath him the first time you allowed him to make his claim on you.

“Baby, it feels ticklish,” you commented, the second you felt a different sensation upon your skin leading Sukuna to glance up to check if you were alright like you were an actual client before placing another kiss on your jawline in a way to comfort you since he had switched to his skin markers to colour in the design he had drawn on you.

“You’re being a good kitten though, you’re not moving a lot then I thought you would,” the tattoo artist whispered leading you to quiver as his deep voice was not helping so much with your beating heart - erratic to the point where you thought he could hear or even feel.

Due to Sukuna concentrating, you couldn’t help but keep silent to help him continue with his work causing you to glance around your room with your eyes before landing upon a wall where there was a multitude of messages written leading you to carefully scan the writings that were visibly presenting themselves.

As expected, there were messages of encouragement - not that the arrogant Sukuna needed it to be honest, but it was nice of the client to do so - and a few drawings from other tattoo artists that Sukuna had famously done. However, not to your surprise, there were a few numbers here and there causing you to sigh since you couldn’t help it - you couldn’t blame your boyfriend for being an extremely handsome man.

Unexpectedly, you felt another kiss being placed upon your cheek causing you to look towards your boyfriend with a smile on your face - it was as if he knew what you were looking at. “I’m finished by the way,” Sukuna announced, causing you to look at him with widened eyes since the drawing session was a little faster than you had anticipated.

Reaching over to a drawer in his desk, Sukuna suddenly pulled out a mirror before passing it to you, leading you to lift up the little instrument to see the result that was drawn on your skin.

“You changed the design,” you quietly stated, as you began to tenderly trace the design with your index finger as you began to admire the piece of art that was masterfully drawn on your collar bone. The tattoo beautifully depicted a single strand of a blooming lavender across your collarbone with each petal in different shades of purple while the buds that weren’t in bloom were in a slight pale pink shade making you smile more since Sukuna drew this straight from his head causing you to have a hint of proudness for him.

“I wasn’t going to give you that previous design, it doesn’t suit you one bit,” the salmon-haired artist mentioned as he continued with, “I’m not going to let that disgusting design touch your skin, especially since this is the first time you let me mark you somewhat,” as he then moved behind you before placing his chin on your shoulder to look at you through the mirror you were holding.

“I might let you mark me permanently then,” you suddenly announced causing your boyfriend to look at you with a surprised look on his face leading you to giggle at his reaction.

“Yeah, let’s break condition three then, you can mark me this one time,” you informed him as you turned to look at him, causing Sukuna to give you his classic smirk before possessively grabbing your chin leading him to lean closer to you.

“Let me mark you then”

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januaryembrs · 3 years

Text

THAT GIRL IS A PROBLEM | JAVIER PENA X AGENT!READER MINI SERIES (4/6)

Description: In an effort to prove yourself to your male peers and catch Pablo Escobar, you make some pretty reckless decisions. It’s only a matter of time before Javier says something, to your surprise, out of worry. OR. the multitude of times you put yourself in danger doing the right thing and the one time Javier says something about it.

Length: 7k

Javier Pena x f!Agent!reader MINI series. colleague romance, reader being badass, age gap (the reader is 25 ish), sexual tension. if you’re anything like me, disappointing your boss needs a heads up so that happens! Initial tension between you and Javi, Javier being a slut but being soft for you hehe, etc

TRIGGER WARNINGS: violence, use of g*ns, KN*FE AND ST@BBING, ATTEMPTED MURDER OF READER, READER GETTING ATTACKED BY A GANG, detailed description of wounds, gore etc, broken bones, surgery, wounds, blood, hospitals, ANGST!!!, please read with caution if you do not do well with blood/gore of bodies, foul language. mention/allusion to sex and smut but none has been written.

NOTE. I MEAN NO OFFENCE TO THE REAL VICTIMS FOLLOWING THE SHOW’S PLOTLINE. THIS IS SIMPLY FANFICTION OF THE NETFLIX SHOW

side note: I have no medical training so if I'm wrong, please just give me the benefit of the doubt.

main masterlist ═ ★ ═ that girl masterlist

To say you were on your best behaviour those following months would be a severe understatement. It killed you to comply and take orders from Javi like the good little secretary he had once thought you were, but you had done it with surprisingly little complaint.

His kind words he whispered to you in the cupboard hadn’t left your mind for the entire time, and neither had the unmistakable flurry of heat that had pooled in your stomach, only getting bigger by every single day you spent with the pair of men you called co-workers. That day had stoked something in you, something you didn’t want to acknowledge for the sake of your work but you knew what it was.

You felt it in your chest; the tightness in your lungs like that day you’d pounded up the stairs after the sicario, the breath being stolen from you every time you so much as brushed past Javi. He had you locked under those honey-brown eyes in the most infuriating of spells.

As much as you tried to push it out of your mind, you knew you had feelings for Javier Pena.

And then she happened.

You were sure Connie hadn’t meant any harm when she’d brought Elisa into your lives. How the hell was she to know you were harbouring feelings for Colombia's hottest DEA agent? You hadn’t breathed a word of your feelings to anyone, let alone begin to admit them to yourself, yet when you heard Javi’s had some mystery woman who he seemed to be getting along with like a house on fire, your chest stung and you left work feeling horribly self piteous - even more so than when you’d been slaughtered by Carillo.

Perhaps that was why you’d gone so quiet at work, not that anyone could really notice seeing as you had been so overly meek as it was for the weeks following your scolding.

Steve was sure he hadn’t heard a peep out of you in days as you sat behind your desk doing paperwork, but you were simply biting your tongue as the pair of them talked about Javi’s new house guest.

“You’re not fucking her, are you?” The blonde man said crassly, making all three people in your tiny office freeze. For the first time all day, you looked up from your tedious task of signing off documents and met Javi’s eyes.

There was something you couldn’t quite place in them as he met your fleeting gaze, something you could only describe as guilt which you easily pinned down to him not wanting to talk about such provocative topics in front of someone so young and seemingly pure as a woman like you.

You scoffed, “Relax, Javi. I know what sex is, I’m twenty-five for fuck sake,” You snickered as he swallowed thickly, caught out in his awkward manner with your purposefully foul language. It wasn’t a coincidence that he had a habit of calling you bebita or junior as you had now been nicknamed. You knew he just saw you as the young, naive, hope-that-had-yet-to-be-crushed-by-the-world newbie that was just so much younger than him, right? While you lusted after the older man, wondering if everything they said was true about the many years Pena had under his belt of, well, removing his belt for Escobar’s whores for the best nights of their lives, he simply saw you as a child. A girl; a young woman at best.

You felt almost perverted being so horny for a man almost twice your age, but something about him had you captured.

“Fucking a communist? How very un-American,” He humoured the two of you, but the tell-tale subtle blush of his cheeks told you everything you needed to know. He was sleeping with her, and that only drove the knife into your gut even harder.

You returned to your work with no more said, only opening your mouth to say ‘thankyou’ as Javi passed you a coffee, just the way you liked it.

“Are you alright, junior?” Javi asked disconcertedly, watching your eyes trail the paper boredly. Of course, he had seen the way your spark had seemed to die out in the past few weeks. The way you were less attentive, less excited to come into the office in a morning had dampened his own mood too, but Escobar wasn’t going to be caught if half the workforce was moping over you getting your dreams of being the hero crushed. It killed him to see you having to tune down the exact fire the DEA needed to catch the narcos, but Carillo had been right in what he had said. You would get yourself seriously hurt if you had continued the way you were going, or even worse. He would take your moping over seeing you hurt any day.

Something about you had caught a piece of his heart since that very first day when you had talked down to him for his admittedly sexist assumption. The fire in you was something else, something he found himself chasing since the moment he caught sight of it.

You hummed a response, lifting your head from between the pages when you saw he hadn’t left your desk. “Yeah, just fine.” You brushed off, taking a sip of your scolding drink he had placed in front of you, “Paperwork sucks ass, is all,”

He chuckled deeply and the sound had your heart jumping into your throat that you had caused it, a smile blossoming across your features in return.

“Amen to that, junior,” Steve called out from behind his own huge pile of papers. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face in despair and putting down his pen, shaking out his hand to relieve the cramp crawling its way up his arm, “How about we go get drinks before we head home?” He offered the two of you.

Javi tilted his head in consideration, moving back over to his own chair, “Sounds good. I’m dying for the whiskey they serve at that place we went last time,” He said, drawing his seat up to his table with a loud screech, “You down, junior? I’ll hold your hair back if you puke,”

You grimaced but snickered anyway, “How romantic, but I can’t. I have a date.”

There was a brief silence that lingered in Javi’s corner of the office while Steve whistled boyishly. “Our little lady’s getting laid, Pena,” He jeered, and you threw your eraser at him in disgust.

“Watch your mouth, Murphy. I have your wife on speed dial,” You threatened, but the blonde man only laughed, “It’s just a casual meal with some guy I met in the bar last week,”

You didn’t want to go in all honesty. You had been thinking of what to wear, not wanting to waste your good dress and underwear set on someone you were sure would be coming nowhere near your apartment door, yet part of you wanted to fake that level of interest just to snuff Javi’s nose in it. It was childish really, only a further reminder of your immaturity to him, and he probably wouldn’t care nonetheless, but the thought of him and Elisa and the time they had spent together alone in his apartment; him taking care of her like she was his wife waiting at home for him to come back from a long day in the office sickened you. You wanted to just make all of those erotic, gut-wrenching thoughts of him disappear, and ‘Nicolas from the bar’, according to the napkin he had written his number on, was the way to do that.

“A date?” Javi said after a moment, but he seemed too invested in his work to really be paying attention to your conversation. “Hope you get lucky, bebita,”

Your heart sank at his words. Why would you have thought he would care? You were just junior, the stupid newbie in his office that had grated on him since day. Junior, who had yet to see Colombia the way he did, yet to experience life as long as he had. Inexperienced, young enough to be his daughter, stupid, reckless, naive junior.

That night he held your arms back and drew you close hadn’t left your mind in three weeks, yet you were just a passing face to Javier Pena. Just an inconvenience in his hard enough job.

“Me too,” You said indignantly, trying not to let your disappointment show. One thing you knew for certain was you had to make Nicolas from the bar nail you so hard your stupid feelings of Javier Pena and his stupid commie house-wife, his stupid beautiful eyes, his stupid asshole expression that made you die every time he grunted something towards you snidely, his low voice, his musky, manly smell, all of it. You’d get fucked so hard all of it just went away.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

That had been the plan at least.

You had indeed gone with the overly nice dress, the midnight black one you had been saving for an occasion so special that the cleavage the low neckline revealed was just perfect. It fit you in every way you liked, and it made a nice change from the long pant-suit you were accustomed to in your day-to-day job.

You had arrived at the bar early, cardinal red lipstick adorning your teeth and a martini already in hand as you sat and waited for him to show.

At first, you figured his taxi had shown late or perhaps he’d lost his keys, and other such excuses you made for him to calm your nerves as your second drink of the night arrived in front of you.

By the fourth drink, it became very clear you had been stood up. The piteous look of the waitress as you put off the bill for the third time said it all. Tipsy, pissed, and frankly close to angry tears, you sipped on your last cocktail of the evening with self-loathing wallowing in your stomach.

You should have just gone out for drinks with Pena and Murphy, you cursed yourself. You could have been just as wasted and had a ride home accompanied by two close friends that you knew would see you to your apartment safely. Instead, it was going to have to be a walk alone, and the thought of that made you neck the rest of your drink in sorrow.

“Fuckin’ shit show this was,” You muttered, slamming down a handful of bills to cover your tab and tip the sorrowful waitresses watching you leave the bar.

You huffed in anger, threading your arms through the sleeves of your jacket, a pathetically thin thing that barely kept you warm against the Colombian cool night, and set off back home, your high heels smacking against the pavement with every frustrated step.

It took you all of ten minutes to hear them. You’d realised around a block back that a group of men had turned out of a beerhouse, and were drunkenly stumbling on the street opposite you. As long as they stuck to their side of the road you wouldn’t panic, you told yourself. They seemed docile enough, just three men, early twenties making their way home from a wild night just the same as you, though you wouldn’t quite label your evening ‘wild’ and more so ‘pathetic”.

In your tipsy daze, you hadn’t quite begun to register what it was they were saying until the tallest one began loudly shushing the other two as they yelled out in the language that was not your mother tongue. You saw him glance behind him to meet your gaze, yet all you could do was meet his eyes with an innocent smile.

That is until your years of foreign language learning kicked in, and you replayed their words in your head.

The first had yelled out something about communists, a topic you weren’t surprised had come up nor had you been concerned about until you thought to the second one’s shoutings.

“We’ll get that bitch soon enough.” He had roughly said, perhaps one or two words varying but that was the general meaning of his drunken rambling. “Nadie cruza a Escobar bajo nuestra vigilancia,”

Your mind ticked over the phrase, the one word smack in the center of his sentence that had you stopping for a moment in shock.

No one crosses Escobar under our watch.

It hadn’t just been for the sake of your aching feet that you cursed your heels. The sound of your repetitive rattling against the pavement had been consistent for the past ten minutes, and so it was even louder when you briefly stopped in your tracks.

You were sure to pick up the pace when you realised your mistake and were grateful to see the group of men hadn’t taken much notice of your pause. You continued walking, as did they, but a blanket of weighted responsibility rested on your shoulders now, and your mind raced for what exactly the right thing to do was.

You had never really been one to believe in such cheesy rom-com tropes as fate and destiny, that all things in your life were foretold to happen, yet you couldn’t help but think you were sent by some higher power to hear their conversation.

These men worked for Escobar, that much you knew. They knew about Elisa which meant they were close to the root of the action, they weren’t just some outsiders with some fanboy attraction to Escobar.

They ran with the narcos you were looking for, which meant you had grounds for an arrest.

Just for one night, you wanted peace and quiet; a chance to revel in pity at your unrequited feelings, and yet your job followed you around like a demon. You knew what you had to do.

Your DEA badge was in your purse, as required by your contract, as well as your gun. You would simply bring them in for questioning, you thought. Nothing too insidious. Yet even through your drunken haze, you made sense that that was a dumb idea - a young woman like you singlehandedly taking on three suspects. Carrillo’s warning rattled around your head. Don’t do anything stupid, junior, you told yourself.

But you could use these men to your advantage, cried another part of you. That part you listened to.

You crossed the street to trail behind the men, playing it off as though you simply wanted to take the next turn to get home, nothing more. They seemed to not have seen you, or perhaps not thought of it much, which was exactly what you wanted.

You carefully stalked behind them, hoping to hear more of their revealing conversation, but they had hushed down to quiet whispers by now, no doubt from their friend’s scoldings. You caught bits and pieces until something was said about Bonilla and his car, and your blood boiled as you saw them all be sent into a round of laughter.

Your heart dropped as they turned at the end of the street instead of crossing over like you had been planning to, had you been continuing on your way home. You guessed you’d be taking a bit of a detour if you had any plans of catching something useful.

Huffing and straightening up, you tugged your jacket closer to your body to fight off the cold air. So much for a quiet night out. You turned down the side street, hoping they hadn’t gotten too far when you stopped in your tracks with a horrible slap of reality.

The three men looked at you smugly, arms crossed over their broad bodies as you stared at them in a brief moment of written guilt.

“Going somewhere, gringa?” The one who had glanced at you said, and your chest constricted as something silver glinted in his hand.

A knife.

You looked down to his weapon, then slowly back to his face that grinned at you maliciously. “I-I don’t want any trouble. I’m just trying to get home,”

“You think I wouldn’t notice you following us, puta tonta,” [dumb whore] he said, as one of the more inebriated of the men snatched your purse from your hands.

Shit. Shit-shit-shit.

It was like you were watching a movie pan out in slow motion.

The bag was opened, a large hand thrust inside triumphantly to pull out your badge that clearly read ‘DEA’, the piece of paper that had ratted your secret out was thrown to the ground and spat on aggressively. Your gun was next, the man with your purse cocked it at your head with a chuckle.

“Agent scum,” The man with the knife growled, and you felt as though the final curtain had been closed on your pitifully short life.

Why couldn’t you have just played it safe, like Javi had begged you to do in that damned cupboard?

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Your stomach turned over as you felt the blood seep out onto your dress. You had been lucky enough to reach for your gun that the stupid drunk had dropped mid-way through kicking the shit out of you.

You had been stabbed in the abdomen, that much you knew. Whether he had hit something vital was a different story altogether, but the only thing you had going for you was the fact you had taken a shot in time to scare the perps off before the weapon could be pulled out.

Yes, that's right. You were stumbling through the streets of Colombia with a fucking knife sticking out of you. Some life this was, you thought bitterly.

You knew the hospital was all the way across town, and you didn’t trust the ambulance to get there in time, nor could you see a phone box anywhere near even if you had wanted to phone for help. But you knew where was close, you had seen his street on your way to your bullshit of a date, you had even considered stopping by to see how him and Elisa were getting on just to torture yourself even further.

You were close to Javi’s apartment, which meant Connie and Steve were close too.

Connie, a nurse, who would know what to do about your little problem.

You reached up to open the gate leading to the apartment complex, hoping and praying that the boys had gotten home from their own after-work excursions, or even that Connie wasn’t working a late shift. You gagged audibly as your hand drew back from where it cradled your side gently, the entirety of your palm stained red with thick liquid. You were knocked almost dizzy at the sight.

Pressing the buzzer to the first-floor apartment, the one you knew the Murphy’s lived on, you felt your heart lurch at the lack of immediate response. Frantically pressing it a few more times, you whimpered as your vision blacked a little, and you were forced to lean against the beautiful white wall, dripping red onto it as you did so.

And then finally; “Who the fuck is calling at this time of night?” Steve Murphy’s voice had never sounded so much like your saving grace until now.

“Steve, is Connie in?” You rasped, coughing with the effort and cringing when a pain in your side ripped through your abdomen. “I’m in a bit of a pickle,”

You heard something halfway between a scoff and a chuckle at your words, “A pickle? God, how old are you? That’s something my nana would sa-”

“Steve, that’s lovely to hear honey. But I’ve got a five-inch blade sticking in me and I’m bleeding out pretty quickly so if you could please just help a girl out that would be dandy,” You snipped, grunting in pain as your legs gave out beneath you and you slid down the wall to the apartment complex.

That wasn’t a good sign.

“Wha- Junior, what the fuck!” Steve yelled through the intercom system, muttering a few other scarce words and calling for Connie from what you could hear through their nearby open window. You felt your eyes droop closed for a moment, as your head leaned against the wall in fatigue. Again, not a good sign for someone bleeding out as quickly as you were, but you had nothing in you to fight the darkness crawling out of the farthest reaches of your mind and invading your senses. Connie would be here soon, you reassured yourself.

As if you had summoned her with that broken hope of a thought, the door to the building swung open, and a high-pitched squeal met your ears.

“Oh my god!” Connie clasped a hand over her mouth at the state you were in, and you blearily turned your head to the source. There was Connie, sweet Connie that you had only met a handful of times, usually donned in her nurse's scrubs or a comfy lounge set now in little more than a skimpy nightie. Then there was Steve holding the door open, eyes wide at your crippled figure that peered up at him with a horribly vacant glaze over your eyes.

“Sup,” You said brokenly, lifting your hand up to greet the blonde woman that you had been desperately needing for the past fifteen minutes, “Always nice to see you, Connie,”

Steve felt his stomach spiral out of control as he took in your battered frame. You had to hand it to the bastards, they had a mean kick and it seemed to show judging by the way the couple’s eyes scanned over your face and shoulders, not lingering on your knife wound like you’d have thought. Steve saw the black eye, the split lip, the swelling on your nose that hinted at a fracture, the dirty boot prints over your shoulder blades and arms, the way two of your fingers, on the one hand, dangled limply off to one side, and of course the blood that pooled from your stomach where a dark handle of an unseen weapon stuck out nauseatingly.

You looked close to death.

“What the fuck, Junior?” Steve repeated, turning to Connie with a lost look in his eyes, “What do we do?”

Connie, bless her sweet heart, had a moment where she couldn’t reply to her husband, seemingly too busy taking in all of your injuries one by one as he had done. You wouldn’t be surprised if your multitude of wounds had scrambled her brain at which to treat first, and it wasn’t until you groaned in pain that she snapped out of her daze and her life-saving instincts kicked in.

“We need to sort out that knife first and foremost,” She said, racking her brain for all the medical supplies she kept in the apartment, “We can’t treat her out here, it’ll get infected. Get her in the house,”

You gasped in a silent scream as Steve tried as gently as possible to hoist you up from the ground, the movement jostling the knife around your open wound. But you were dead weight at this point. Your legs were limp, heavy with the loss of circulation, and with the pure shock that was keeping you from passing out altogether.

“C’mon, junior. Work with me here,” Steve said through gritted teeth as he all but dragged you through the threshold of the doorway and into the small entrance hall, “Con, I can’t get her up the stairs by myself,”

“Just try, Steve! I need to sterilize equipment,” Connie half yelled over her shoulder, not angry at her husband in the slightest but more so frantically thinking of what needed to be done first. You would have a slimmer than a hair chance of making it through this if she messed up. She needed to do everything exactly right if you were to survive the night.

“Well, what the fuck do you want me to do!” Steve shouted back as your head lolled to the side briefly before you found the strength to lift it upright yourself. He felt his stomach turn over in sickness as the colour drained from your cheeks.

“No shouting- no fighting-” You slurred, trying your hardest to kick your legs out in front of you to keep Steve from carrying your whole weight, only to feel an odd tingling in both of them which told you the blood was struggling to make it there.

The sound of a door opening grounded your trio, and that was when you heard his voice.

“What the hell is going on here?” Javi said, emerging from his apartment in nothing more than boxers and a messy, sex-ridden hairdo, a beautiful brunette woman trailing behind him to also see what the commotion was about.

His resolve to scold the couple for interrupting him and Elisa died in his throat when he saw you.

He saw the blood, and the scrapes littering your face. He saw the way you were as lifeless as a mannequin in Steve’s arms as he struggled to hold you upright. He saw how your eyelids drooped and raised at his voice as you frantically tried to grasp onto the remaining parts of consciousness you could hold onto. He saw the red liquid all over your arms from where you had held your wound tightly to try and compress the blood flow and quite literally save your own life.

Javi saw the knife sticking out of your stomach and he felt his world begin to crumble.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Within seconds, your other arm was slung over Javier’s shoulder as the two men lifted you up the stairs to the Murphy’s apartment.

“What the hell happened?” He rasped, ignoring the fact he was walking through the building half-naked. A lighter set of footsteps behind you told you that his female company was following your group closely, but you paid her no mind. All you could think was how much your body ached, how warm the blood was as it rolled down your stomach, how hot Javi’s nude body was pressed against yours. Your eyes drooped again as you let out an almost coherent sound, “Hey, junior look at me! Who did this to you? Did your date do this?”

You caught a brief sight of Connie frantically pouring vodka over their wide kitchen counter, dousing her hands and equipment in it as she went and you realised that was now going to be a makeshift operating table. You managed to turn your head to meet his as you reached the top of the stairs. His soft brown eyes, the warm honeyed glow from the gas station now long gone and replaced with a petrified sadness that almost looked black in the dim night.

“‘ got stood up,” You murmured to him, whimpering as your heel caught the top step and jostled your body, aggravating your wounds only further, “Started walking home when I got jumped,”

“By who?” Steve asked as you neared the table, and your head lolled backward again in a brief moment of lost consciousness. You were fading quickly, you could feel it. Yet you didn’t have it in you to be scared. All you felt was the ebbing waves of fatigue washing over you, and what was most worrying was the fact all the pain was leaving your body. You barely even recalled what had happened for a split second, only knowing that Javi was looking at you like he wanted to hold onto you and never let go.

“Escobar’s men. They knew I was DEA,” Your voice garbled as your entire weight leaned on Javi’s shoulder, “They wanted me dead,”

With that, you looked up at Javi one more time, and his face contorted with horror as you went completely limp.

You had never seen Javier Pena look afraid until that night. And Javi was fucking terrified.

“Y/N!” Your name felt foreign in his mouth. In the months you had worked together it had always been ‘junior’, ‘bebita’ sometimes even ‘brat’. But he had never needed you to hear him like he did then.

With one swift movement, he leaned down and scooped your legs up, and placed you on the counter as Connie wrestled a pair of surgical gloves onto her shaking hands. “I’ll stitch her up the best I can for now but she needs a blood transfusion. Just keep her awake, Javi,”

“Get her stable enough that we can make it to a hospital,” Steve rationalised, though his voice trembled with the same fear instilled into everyone in the Murphy’s apartment.

“No,” Elisa piped up for the first time, which caught everyone’s attention, “She said they wanted her dead. If you admit her into hospital, Escobar will only track her down and have someone finish the job,”

Fuck. The worst part was, it made total sense that Escobar would want to eliminate any DEA scum that had been sniffing around his business. They didn't know why he would single you out. Perhaps he had found out about your stunt at the hotel or even how you’d locked up four of the sicarios that could pin Bonilla’s assassination on him. Who knew. But either way, with a hospital stay ruled out, the group knew one thing for certain.

This was looking bad, really really bad for you and as much as none of them wanted to admit it, you didn’t have much chance fighting in your corner.

“Y/N,” Javi repeated, caressing your sickeningly peaceful face gently before shaking on your shoulders, “Hey! You need to stay awake here, bebita.”

His heart lurched as you offered no response, just a faint breath making it seem like you were simply having a nap. But your life was on the line here, and your sleep-like state shook him to his core.

“We need to cut her dress off. I can’t see anything and there’s no taking it off with that knife still there,” Connie instructed, as Steve set off opening every drawer in the kitchen as though the panic had made him forget the layout of his own house. Finally, he produced a large set of scissors, moving back over to your body where Javi was still shaking you in the hopes of stirring you back to consciousness.

Javi felt sick as your tight black outfit was cut cleanly from your body. Any other night he would have thrown a flirty compliment your way with how good you looked in that dress, perhaps even plucked up the courage to offer you a date himself, but tonight it was different. Tonight, he saw you in little more than your lace white underwear, though that colour was now long since spattered with the blood that had smudged over your skin from your wounds, and felt no trace of arousal like he expected he would.

He simply felt sick seeing all the blood that dripped from the clothing as it was peeled from your skin, carefully avoiding where the knife was lodged deep into you.

It seemed the night air on your skin caught you out of your slumber, as you gasped slightly and your lids flickered open.

“S’cold” You whined sleepily, moving your arm to cover your body only to feel it stopped by a large warm hand grabbing your wrist in a way that was oh so familiar.

“No, bebita. Just sit tight, we’ll fix you up,” Javi cooed in a softness that surprised even himself and he settled down next to where you lay on the counter, holding your hand in place in a menial attempt to warm you with his own body heat.

“Alright, Y/N. I’m going to pull it out now. Steve, can you apply pressure as soon as it’s out?” Connie ordered, the bottle of vodka still in one hand while a needle and suture rested in the other.

“How do you know it’s not hit anything vital?” Elisa spoke up again and Javi would be lying if he said he even remembered she was there. For all he cared, she could be back in his apartment downstairs. All thoughts surrounding Elisa and the lewd activity they had been in the midst of had exited his mind like a Porsche the second he saw you in Steve’s arms.

Connie went gravely quiet for a moment before she spoke, “The fact she’s lasted this long means she got lucky,”

Javi nearly scoffed and snapped at the woman that you very obviously were not lucky to be in the situation you were in, but he held his cruel tongue, knowing the comment would have just been made out of spite. Instead, he watched Connie rest her hand over the handle and seemed to murmur some words of reassurance to herself before she began.

With that, she got to work.

The noise you made as the knife was pulled out was something Javi would never forget for as long as he lived. It was a half whine, a half scream of pain that curled his toes as your face scrunched up in torture. You lifted your head to watch as the Murphy’s scrambled to stop the bleeding. Connie began yelling at Elisa to pass her bandages and more vodka, and to help Steve compress the wound that pooled with the red liquid that coated their kitchen counter.

Their voices all muddled into a hum, your eyes locking on the gaping hole in your stomach which seemed to snap you into consciousness with a fresh wave of adrenaline, as though you were now realising the gravity of the situation by seeing first hand what your injury looked like.

Your breathing increased and you murmured something close to “Oh God.” But your face was tilted backward to hide you from the sight of your wound, and those brown eyes were back. You saw his mouth moving in comforting words that still made little sense to your ringing ears as the blood rushed around your head from sheer panic.

But he was there.

His hands cradled your face to stop you from trying to take another look, his palms warming you both inside and out.

“Javi,” You whispered. The pain had subsided once more, whether that was a good thing or not you didn’t know, but you were grateful for the relief it offered.

His thumbs stroked your cheek gently, and all that was left to feel was him. All you could see between the obnoxiously bright light that hung above the counter you lay on was his face peering down at you, his eyes begging you to hold on between the bouts of your blacking vision. You blinked at him slowly and whispered his name again, to which he only held you tighter.

All you could feel as you fell asleep once more was Javier Pena and those sweet honey eyes that pleaded with you not to leave him.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Connie wasn’t mistaken when she said you had gotten lucky.

After stitching you up, despite the sheer panic that rose in the room as you slipped into unconsciousness once more, the group working on your injury managed to stop the bleeding from the knife wound, which had been Connie’s main concern.

Javi made sure your breathing remained steady as the Murphy’s raced to the hospital, Steve easily breaking multiple laws with how erratic his driving was. They had managed to snag two pints of your blood type that Connie had on her records, and make back with some morphine for your pain, even more bandages, and a sterile cannula set.

Javi was impressed with how fast the blonde woman worked once she had the correct tools. In no time, you were getting the blood pumped back into you, and she was working on cleaning the rest of your wounds with sterile wipes, sewing up the few more grizzly-looking ones, and setting your broken fingers back into place.

Connie Murphy was a miracle worker.

Javier could have sworn you'd died right then and there after that last time you said his name but, with Connie’s expert hands, within three hours they had moved you to lay on their sofa to rest while they waited for you to come around.

The Murphy’s headed off to bed at around 6am for some very well-deserved sleep after the ordeal the night had brought them, but even Javi saw how Connie’s eyes watered as she scrubbed hard at her hands to get rid of your blood.

“You coming, Javi?” Elisa asked as she went to leave the apartment. Steve had loaned him a top and some shorts in the middle of the panic, which left Javi in a more comfortable state than just his boxers like he had been. But he hadn’t been thinking about how cold the night air was, or how everyone could see his aged body. He had just been thinking about you, whether or not you were going to pull through.

He looked at the woman he had been fucking for the past few days, the hopeful look in her eye despite everything that had happened with you that wanted him to follow her back downstairs. Shaking his head, his gaze returned back to where you were laid out on the sofa, the morphine still pumping into your body to get you through the night comfortably.

“You go on down. I’ll be back later,” He said, settling into the leather lounger he had claimed after moving your bare body next to his. Elisa looked at him hesitantly then to where you lay peacefully, your breathing now much calmer as it puffed your chest out gently.

She left the two of you in silence, shutting the door behind her quietly.

Truthfully, his mind was already made up before she’d even asked him. He wasn’t leaving you until you’d made a full recovery, and perhaps not even then.

Javi’s eyes watched you with hawk-like precision, inspecting every breath you took as if to see if it would be your last despite his eyes begging him to get some sleep like the others. But he refused, he couldn’t even if he tried. He had to see this through that you would come back to him.

As if his thoughts had been so loud as to wake you, a small moan left your lips as your eyes slowly opened and the reality of awakeness hit you all at once.

“Junior?” He whispered, checking his ears hadn’t deceived him with a horrible trick of hope, and that you had indeed begun stirring. The slightest raise of your head at the sound of his voice, the way your bleary eyes scanned the room for him until they found their place on his, and the tiniest of smiles you shot him made his heart leap with euphoria.

“Javi?” You said, making a move to sit up but stopping yourself when the dulled pain from your entire body hit you, and the memories of your close call with death himself surfaced, “Am I at Steve’s?”

Javier was across the living room in an instant, kneeling down next to you and grabbing your hand in his large warm ones the way he did so casually now.

“You need rest, bebita,” Javi whispered into the silent room, brushing your hair out of your face gently. “You had us worried there for a moment,”

“Can I have some water? I feel like I just died,” You breathed croakily, half-joking as you watched his face drop all joy to see you awake and darken as he stood to fulfill your wish.

You shouldn’t have said that.

“That’s not funny, Y/N.” He murmured as he handed you the glass, helping you hold it to your lips as your plastered fingers throbbed with the effort.

You said nothing in return, taking greedy gulps of the cold liquid until you made a motion to pull away from the glass. You rarely heard him say your name and said like that you were nothing but putty on Steve’s sofa.

He was hurt.

“I’m okay, Javi.” You tried to reassure him, but you saw how his face turned down to glare at the floor in anger.

“I almost lost you. I fucking thought you died, junior. How are you going to say that when we were all thinking you weren’t going to make it?” He growled lowly, and despite the pain radiating through the rest of your body, your heart swelled and fluttered in upset to see him so weakened.

It was there, in his tone of voice. He was a broken man, as wounded as you were from seeing you in that state.

You could do nothing to reassure him. You couldn’t apologise without him telling you you were being stupid. You couldn’t take away the sight of your bleeding body from where it was ingrained in his mind. You couldn’t brush it off as nothing, because you both knew you’d be lying.

So all you did was lift your own hand to his face the way he had before you’d passed out.

You cradled his cheek, careful not to knock your broken fingers, and forced him to look at you from his angry stare at the point on the floor.

“I’m still here aren’t I?” You asked quietly, your eyes never leaving his face. It softened at your words, and you saw his sepia orbs lower to where they left your mouth, taking a visible sigh of relief as if you had reminded him right then and there that this wasn’t a dream. You were still here with him, despite how close it had been to something much more insidious. “I’m not leaving you, Javi,”

And with that, Javier leaned down and kissed you with a heat you had never known before.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

taglists:

THAT GIRL IS A PROBLEM

@inukako @farfromjustordinary @a-trial-run-on-paper @arduadastra @kimjigumaq @rosegxoxo @pascalesque @ikinmahlen @comefindmesomeday @1800-fight-me @bxxbxy @honeyofthegods @justdrawings101 @igotissueswithfictionalmen @ajeff855 @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @nasa-cryptid@hnt-escape @drinkingwhileblogging

PERMANENT TAG LIST:

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Pedro Pascal

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note: WEEWOO WEEWOO THE SHIP IS SAILING PEOPLE!

#javier pena x agent!reader #javier pena x female!reader #javier pena x dea!reader #javier pena x reader series #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfiction #narcos season one #narcos x reader #narcos fic #narcos imagine #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x female!reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal imagine

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sorryimanon · 3 years

Text

Pairings: Bakugou x fem!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!"

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

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

"This is freaking weird."

"Fucking."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N flinched from hearing the blondes name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Kirishima?"

"Yeah?"

"What is Bakugou like around you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bakugou is always putting up a front then.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit shit shit shit

The hand in front of him began shaking.

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

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

I just felt her fucking nipple!

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

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

"Hah!"

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

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

I practically assaulted her. I'm so fucking disgusting

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kacchan owns cardigans? He thought, clearly amused.

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

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

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

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

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

I hate lying to those big freaking green eyes.

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

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

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

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

This piqued her interest.

"What do you mean by, taboo?"

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

Her eyes popped out from her sockets.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another acute ding.

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

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

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

Ding Ding Ding

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"F-Fuck you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Make. Me. Cum

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

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

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

"Cum then baby. Cum for me only."

Baby

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

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

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

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

Silence. Then the realization hit.

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

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

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

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

He hummed in agreement.

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

Another grunt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No," his fingers were ironically cold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Caramel and soap

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Smack!

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

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

Smack! Smack!

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

More whimpers into the tear stained pillow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#mha smut #mha imagines #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #bakugou x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki smut #bakugou fluff #bakugou smut #bakugou imagine

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wrenhyperfixates · 3 years

Text

The Raven Haired Rebel

Prologue

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: After invading New York, it was decided that, as a punishment, Loki would work for SHIELD. Yeah, right. After escaping from their custody and stranded on Midgard, the God of Mischief decides to prove he’s the one thing no one ever thought he was: the good guy. Now a vigilante, Loki attempts to make amends for his past wrongdoings while also evading the Avengers, including their newest member. You. Brought in specially for the case, you notice more and more details about the prince’s story don’t add up. When you get the chance to turn him in, will you listen to your employers or your heart that believes Loki’s done nothing wrong? Chapter Summary: In which Loki decides to forge his own path. Chapter Warnings: none :) A/N: Welcome to the start of my new mini series! The idea came from the Send Me a Fic Title ask game. This was a title sent in by @lokistan! Hope you enjoy!

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart @marvelouslovely @laurenandloki @fallinallinmendes @sophlubbwriting @mooncat163

RHR Tag List: @happygalaxymilkshake @electroma89 @stardust-walker @i-would-kneel-for-loki

Masterlist

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki wondered what his cell on Asgard would look like, for surely he’d be transferred there any day now. For three days now, he’d been held in the belly of a SHIELD base in these ridiculous cuffs. Tony had, at least, sent down that drink Loki had asked for. Whether it was a taunt or a small bit of kindness, Loki honestly wasn’t sure. Either way, he’d downed it in one gulp; Midgardian alcohol never having a strong effect on him. Honestly, he probably should have been concerned if it was poisoned or not. Then again, after everything he’d been through, what did he care?

“Brother,” Loki greeted Thor as he walked into view. “How lovely of you to finally grace me with your presence. Though I take it this is not a leisure visit, hm?”

“You know full well it is not,” the God of Thunder replied with a stern tone.

“And here I was so hoping we could catch up.”

“If you want to talk, then talk, Loki. Explain yourself. What has transpired that you have attacked so many innocent people in this way?”

Loki wanted to laugh at that. Innocent? Who was Thor to talk of innocent with all the unrighteous battles he’d fought, all the blood spilled by his hands? The God of Mischief had done what? Attacked a military base? Made a few people kneel? Corralled a few groups into buildings? Which really was for the own safety so they wouldn’t be in the way of the battles on the streets. But no; conquest was apparently only just when Odin decided to do it. When Thor wanted to follow in his footsteps. But for Loki, there was a whole other set of rules. Of course, no one ever bothered to outline them for the trickster, just let him know he failed to obey them.

Besides, he hadn’t been in his right mind. Rather, he’d been under the mind stone’s influence, under Thanos’s control. He worked his jaw as he tried to figure out whether to say that or not. If he had any sense of self preservation, he probably would have. Yet after living his whole life being told he was weak, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Whether Asgardian culture, his family, or he himself were to blame for that, he wasn’t sure. Still, best just to stick with his wit.

“Pardon, brother,” Loki finally replied. “If it bothers you that much, I will stop following your example.”

“You dare insinuate I would do such a thing?” Thor rhetorically asked, appalled and shocked now that his honor was called into question. “Truly, brother, your mind is far more twisted than I had imagined. I see now I should not have advocated for you; you are too far gone. And yet, I already have, so your second chance you shall have.”

“How benevolent,” Loki rolled his eyes.

In reality, Loki was actually kind of touched Thor had spoken on his behalf. It was more than he expected from the blonde. Though, he had a feeling he hadn’t been spoken of in the most flattering light. Regardless, Thor opened his cell and, accompanied by a couple agents, led him to the upper floors of of the base.

The light blinded Loki for a minute as he saw sunlight for the first time since he’d been locked up. The glares passing agents gave him did significantly less to burn him, though. He was used to scorn. Of course, he did feel a wave of regret as he realized he’d probably killed some of their colleagues, their friends. Even if he didn’t have control of himself, he’d still done it. Why did he have to be so weak as to let Thanos gain control of his mind, he wondered? Such horrid deeds had never been in his nature before, though it seemed Thor was ready to believe he’d been evil all along.

The brothers were silent the whole way to Fury’s office, even as they waited for the director to come in. From his seat in front of the desk, Loki surveyed the office. Nice enough, he mused, but could use some more color. Maybe some drapes. Loki wondered if he should laugh that that’s what he was thinking. Though, in all honesty, it might be a chuckle of relief, knowing that his thoughts were finally his own again.

When the director did finally walk in, he and Loki just eyed each other for a moment, sizing the other up. Loki was fairly confident he could get out of this room, out of this base, if he really wanted to. But what was even the point? He wasn’t particularly interested in playing a game of cat and mouse, as SHIELD would try desperately to recover him. No, he’d rather take whatever punishment was about to be doled out. At least for now, anyway.

“Well, thank you for having me,” Loki quipped, being the first to break the silence. “I am afraid I have never been much good at small talk, though. How about that weather?”

“Funny,” Fury deadpanned. “Glad you didn’t lose your sense of humor when you killed my men.”

Loki’s smile faltered ever so slightly. It seemed like people were going to keep bringing that up despite that it had not even been his intention to kill anyone. Injure and temporarily dispose of, sure, but not kill. He supposed that having been on the verge of collapse himself, he wasn’t able to be as precise as he usually was.

“That little stunt you pulled should have you locked up for life,” Fury continued before Loki could respond. “However, we are prepared to offer you a deal. You are going to work for SHIELD to make up for your crimes.”

“Ah. I see. So gracious of you. And my other options are?”

“You come with me back to Asgard,” Thor chimed in, “and father can do whatever he wants with you.”

Well, that created three possible paths, really, Loki figured. Be sent to Asgard and locked up there was option one. Then the second was to be sent back and killed. Was it bad he kind of hoped for the latter? Oh, it definitely was. Yet, that’s how he felt. And then he could stay here, play along until the opportunity came to break free. Live his life as he wanted for once.

“Alright,” Loki agreed with a smile that he was sure would be seen as more untrustworthy than anything else. “When do I begin?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week of tedious lectures later, Loki was out in the field. He’d listened with rapt attention as he’d undergone his brief training. And somehow they deemed him trustworthy enough to send on a mission already. So, here he was in a Quinjet with his fellow agents. Maybe they didn’t entirely trust him. After all, Clint kept eyeing him with something akin to murder in his gaze.

Still, once they touched down, Loki followed the procedures he’d been taught. Thankfully, they hadn’t trusted him with any of the more important jobs, just securing the perimeter. That, of course, was a mistake on their part. As soon as it was time to break apart from the others, Loki created a double of himself. Meanwhile, he causally strutted over to a nearby motorcycle. Ok, he had to admit he didn’t really know how to ride one, but he’d make do.

Loki’s drive was surprisingly smooth as he escaped his would-be employers. The joke was on them for trying to tie him down, he thought. It was actually rather freeing to be racing along the open road, wind in his raven-black hair. Maybe he could find a nice little secluded home somewhere and live the rest of his days out in peace. And then he saw a burning building. Really, he should just keep going. You Midgardians had forces to deal with this. And yet, something made him pull over and rush inside, saving those he found trapped by the flames.

“I can never thank you enough,” a lady blubbered as she clung to her child, who Loki had just saved. “Please, what’s your name? How can I repay you?”

“You can call me, Loki,” he replied with a charming grin. “And really, no thanks necessary. It is just what I do.”

And as he rode off again, Loki decided he was going to make that last statement true. Look out, Midgard, he thought to himself. Looks like you have got yourself a new superhero.

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toastedside · 3 years

Text

In Health

Batmom!Reader x Batfamily

Warning: Angst, Angry Tim Drake

Note: I knoooooow it's been a while since I wrote this series and I actually have finished it a while ago. Just figure I want to share the rest. Enjoy!

Masterlist, Previous Chapter

You bit the inside of your cheeks, your eyes travelled constantly to the watch on your wrist. The iced coffee you ordered fifteen minutes ago already half gone. Metropolis was bright and sunny that day, the weather was warm and nice. A welcomed contrast to gloomy Gotham with its perpetual cloud.

The coffee shop Lois had told you about was buzzed with hungry patrons, considering it was almost lunchtime anyway. It was a breath of relief that nobody would recognize you on the first glance, something you had learned fairly quickly since Bruce had publicly claimed you years ago. If you went somewhere with shirts and jeans and nothing shiny, nobody would recognize you that you are Y/N Wayne.

You glanced into your watch again for the millionth time that day. Was the request to meet up too much for them? Were you too harsh on them back in the days? It’s unusual for–

“Hey, oh my god, we’re so sorry. Our meeting last longer than we expected.”

Lois suddenly came into frame. Behind her was a slightly disheveled Clark, eyeing her behind his glasses hesitantly. Something sank at the bottom of you stomach by the sight alone, perhaps you were indeed way too harsh on him.

“It’s alright, I didn’t wait that long anyway,” you mustered a white lie as you gestured them to take a seat across yours. “How’s Jon doing? I miss him coming over on the weekend.”

“He is fine. Clark and I bought him a video game console on his birthday and all he’s been doing was glued his eyes on the TV,” Lois rolled her eyes fondly at the topic of her own son, something you've been doing for years since you are a mother too. “How are the kids?”

“I figure Jon had been talking about his video games with Damian. He asked me if he could buy one just yesterday,” you laughed. “The kids are fine, per usual. Dick and Jason had been a little busy with their job, so they usually only come over on the weekend. Damian tried to woo me into adopt another pet again last week, Cass been practicing ballet a lot lately, and Tim... well... it’s been a little tough for him to fill Bruce’s shoes in the company but he’s doing well so far.”

There was a little shift in the air after you finished. Lois subtly adjusted her seat, silently sent a look towards her husband who looked a little too nervous to be comfortable. It would be funny to see Superman himself squirmed on his seat if the reason behind it didn’t left a bitter aftertaste.

“Lunch?” you swiftly opened the menu book to dissipate the growing tension and gently shoved it into Clark’s lap. “It’s on me.”

The lunch was surprisingly normal and calm, the thought of the dreading event was swept away underneath the nonexistent rug. Lois had been talking about the newest article she was writing about and Clark was obviously waltzed around carefully to not touching the superhero business, and you played your best to ignore it.

“Lois, Clark,” you started as everyone finally finished their lunch and the empty plates were taken away. “I am here to apologize for what I have done... three months ago. And what I might have said.”

There was silence hung in the air as Lois and Clark shared a look together. It was Lois who immediately reached for your hand and gently squeezed it. “Hon, you have nothing to apologize for. We understand, you were–”

“It was still rude and uncalled for, and my circumstance was a mere explanation. Especially to you, Clark,” you rolled your shoulders slightly to face Clark better, eyes fell into the balled fist on his lap. “You were only trying to explain, but I shut you out. I know you lost your best friend too that night and I am so sorry I didn’t try to reach you out sooner.”

“Y/N, it’s–”

“No, no, it’s not.” you breathed shakily. You had prepared your best for this inevitable conversation, but still unaware how painful it could be. “Bruce wouldn’t want me to act that way.”

Silence now had fallen completely and the air had shifted drastically. The only thing that grounded you from withering away and succumb into your own thought was Lois’s thumb gently stroking your wrist. Clark was stunned silent on his seat, the gears on his mind worked twice harder than it usually did in past three months. Nothing had prepared him for this conversation.

“Y/N, I forgive you. I already had long ago. I understand completely, and I would probably act worse if I were in your shoes,” Clark breathed out. All the tension in his shoulders that hinder him in the last forty-five minutes had dissipated into the thin air.

“Thank you,” you lifted your eyes to meet his. Sometimes you forgot how unnaturally blue his eyes were, cold and calculating, even though the corner of his eyes and the smile lines soften it out. It almost reminded you with Bruce. “Can you... can you tell me what happened that night? You were there with him, didn’t you?”

Lois and Clark shared another look, something told you that both knew what you didn’t. “Are you sure you want to hear this now?”

“I need my closure, Clark. And I’d love to know which son of a bitch that take my husband away.”

Clark told you everything in vivid details, the hairs on your shoulders stood in dread by the explanation alone. He talked about the League mission, the warehouse, and the explosion that had killed Bruce and suspected blown his body into unrecognizable tiny bits. By the time he was finished, you were close to tears, and was pleasantly surprised you didn’t weep your heart outs right away in a public place.

“One question,” you wiped the stubborn tears that started to well on your eyes. You mustered a silent thank you as Clark offered his handkerchief. “Was Red Robin there? Was Red Robin called for backup?”

“I can’t remember. What about him?”

You took a sharp breath, the image of Tim weeping on your lap and repeating his apology played inside your mind like a broken movie. “He obsessively investigating his death, saying it was his fault it happened in the first place.”

Lois tighten her grip on your hand and squeezed harder. It wasn’t a secret that your son was bad at letting go and coping with loss, but it had been a huge toll to knew he blamed himself for it. Clark sent you an apologetic look, and you were surprised that you didn’t dread the look.

“It wasn’t his fault. It was supposed to be an easy investigation, an in-and-out mission. Nobody could come prepared for the explosion,” Clark reassured you, although it was addressed more to Tim instead of you. “The machines...”

A sudden rang from Clark’s phone interrupted his words. He watched it rang briefly before let out a dreading, long sigh. “I’m so sorry, but I really need to take this.”

You smiled reassuringly. “Go on.”

Turns out, Lois and Clark had been called for another meeting and had to cut their meeting short. Lois had hugged you tight and drop a promise to come over by weekend for dinner. Clark left a lingering touch on your wrist, his eyes widen as if he had come into a realization he hadn’t before, but he left before he able to muster any single words.

The ride back to Gotham was long and tedious. The traffic had made the trip an hour and half longer than it was necessary, but the sunset at the horizon was a sight for sore eyes. The chance to catch a beautiful sunset was close to zero in Gotham, so you preserved the moment as much as you could. A little part of your soul wished Bruce could witness such sight with you.

You arrived right before dinnertime, the manor was surprisingly quiet, spared for some noises Alfred made in the kitchen as he prepared for dinner. One thing about Wayne household was silent wasn’t a good thing, and one should be suspicious if it happened.

“Where are the others? It’s eerily quiet.” your head popped up in the kitchen. “Alfred, it smells delicious. Are you making Shepherd’s pie again?”

“Miss Y/N, I would really appreciate it if you didn’t surprise me like that anymore,” Alfred deadpanned. “Yes, I am. How was your meeting?”

“It went well. I... I finally get the explanation I deserved,” you sat across the kitchen island, your bag fell into the floor as you did. “Thank you for convincing me into reaching out to him.”

Alfred pressed his lips together into a pleased smile. “You have found your closure, I assumed?”

“I don’t know about that, Alfred,” you admitted. “But it was great to finally know what happened and not left in the dark. Maybe it was a good step for me.”

“I believe so, Miss Y/N.”

“Are those teas for the kids?” you shifted the topic away into a tray full of teacups and biscuits. “Where are they?”

“All of them are cramped together in Batcave, I believe. Master Damian had asked me to brought them some teas.”

“Let me take it to them. You can continue bake your Shepherd’s Pie again.”

Alfred was hesitant, but he nodded away and shoved the tray into your embrace. It had been long overdue for you to step back into the Batcave anyway, figured this would be a great time for you to go back.

You forgot how much you hated the perpetual coldness the Batcave seemed to persistently have, no matter how many efforts everyone had put years ago into make this place warmer and comfortable. The sound of your children bickering with each other filled the cave and it made you smile, for all of its worth, you had always admired your children’s tendency to find things to argue about.

It was until the sound of fist slammed against the table that stopped you in your track and wiped away your smile.

“Stop it, Timbers, stop this fucking bullshit!” Jason’s voice roared, followed with the ear-ripping screeches of bats that had been awoken from their slumber by his roaring voice alone.

“I am telling you the truth!” Tim said heatedly, which was alarming. You quickly hid yourself in the shadows between the costume displays, finding yourself a better spot to watched your children without being known. “Why can’t you believe me?”

“Look at me in the eye and tell me that was not a fucking bullshit!”

“Tim, bud, come on. You need to stop. This isn’t healthy,” Dick’s concerned voice chimed in between the heated stares Jason and Tim exchanged. Your heart sank from that words alone, Tim must had investigating again. “You have us. We can get through this together. But not like this.”

“TT. Drake, you have started to creep me out,” Damian’s equally concerned voice, albeit masked with his usual scowl and sarcasm, piped in. “Also, you look like you hadn’t sleep since you were born.”

“Thanks for the flattery. But listen–”

“Stop it. Stop. Shut your mouth!” Jason yelled again. His finger intimidatingly pointed towards Tim, his eyes filled with rage and frustration. “Have you heard yourself talking?”

“Won’t you all give me a fucking minute to explain myself?” Tim stood from his chair; his fist crumpled together into a ball clenched on his side. It was such an eerie sight to see him so worked up like this. “Cass?”

You saw Cass silently shook her head. She sent Tim an apologetic smile as Tim groaned in frustration.

“Why none of you would just listen to me?”

“Tim, there is no way in hell Bruce is still alive!”

The roar that came from Dick was eerie, but it was his words that split your world into half. You didn’t realize the tray had slipped from your grasp until it clashed with cold floor, your gasp was masked with the loud clang of the tray hitting the floor and the sound of teacups shattered into pieces. All eyes followed towards the sound, and all were surprised to spot their mother was there.

You saw from the corner of your eyes that Dick walked towards you. His shoulders were tensed, his eyebrows furrowed together in frustration and anger. But your eyes fell on Tim whose eyes widen in horror upon realizing that your unknown presence was lurking all these times. You could mentally see the guilt that slowly seeped through his initial shock, the blue in his eyes waver slightly with the swirling guilt. You walked towards Tim, and from the look on his face alone, you wondered if you looked as if you were about to swallow him whole.

“Mom...” Tim croaked.

“Mom, it’s alright. It was nothing.”

“Ma, let’s go upstairs. It’s dinnertime, you never like it when we–”

“Tim.” The firmness on your voice effectively silence your two oldest sons out. Your hands gently placed on Tim’s shoulders as you shut your eyes and counted from one to ten. “Tell me everything.”

“W-what?”

“Tell me everything you know. Tell. Me. Everything.”

“Mom, I don’t think you should see it.”

“He was my husband, Tim. I deserve to know.”

Tim pressed his lips together, his eyes travelled up slowly before he let out a sigh. “Just tell me to stop when it gets too much.”

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like-rain-or-confetti · 3 years

Text

For the Best (Marcus Volturi x Reader)

WARNING: dark themes!

"No.” You grumbled in protest. “I’m tired.” Marcus chuckled. “I know, my sweet but it’s just for a little while.” Marcus’ fingers ran up and down your spine soothingly with a soft smile. “I’ve been doing this for a week!” “It’ll only be an hour.” Marcus responded and you huffed in defeat. “Fine!” You sighed moving towards Aro and Caius.

You had a gift similar to Aro’s and there had been much discussion as to whether they wanted to help grow it. Finally Aro’s curiosity seemed to overpower Marcus’ reluctance. Yourself and Caius were rather indifferent about your gift. You were content with the brief glimpses of memories that you’d have. Unlike Aro, you didn’t need physical contact, only eye contact. Aro could see everything in a persons life but you could only see random memories. It was exhausting and tedious. Although there was always light hearted moments to witness.

When practicing with the guard, you saw through Jane’s eyes, witnessing the day she tossed a book at Felix’s head. You made your way through them all one by one, day by day, a random memory for your eyes only. Despite your exhaustion, your gift was clearly growing. Snippets of visions and inklings of what had happened had turned into scenes like in a movie. They were growing longer and more meaningful.

Looking into Caius’ memories was uplifting, surprisingly so. You were met with Caius and Athenodora arm in arm, smiling adoringly at one another in the gardens. The sunlight dancing across their skin, erupting in diamonds. You returned to the present with a smile on your face.

However, you wanted to stop after one incident. You went far in Alec’s head, further than you had before and into a very early memory. Alec and Jane whispering in hushed voices about their new lives as vampires and their difficulty trusting Aro. The twins promised one another that they’d never be apart. No matter what it was always be them, always and forever. After that you had wanted to stop. You had suddenly realised that you wouldn’t just see the good in people’s lives, you’d see the bad. It had taken a lot of convincing and finally you were willing to try again...after Marcus’ prompting.

As always you were met surrounded by Caius, Aro, the twins and Felix. You rolled your shoulders. “Who first?” You asked. “Why don’t you try on Felix?” Aro tilted his head. It made sense, the younger the vampire, the easier and Felix was younger than the others. You offered Felix a smile and he nodded, permitting you. You looked into his eyes. After a brief moment of concentration, you were in the throne room. It was apparent you had went back into the at least 1700s, judging by Demetri’s clothing as well as what you could see of Felix’s. The two had a solid grip of a vampire you didn’t know, a man with dark brown longer hair. His eyes glazed over as though not present despite his body being there. Aro smiled down at the man before placing his hands on either side of his head. Nothing was said yet as soon as Aro pulled the mans head off, Felix and Demetri ripped off his arms barely a second later. You staggered back slightly, returning to present day. “Delightful.” You mumbled, wincing at the scene still very clear in our memory- much to your dismay. “Are you alright?” Caius asked in a monotone voice. You nodded and hummed. “It’s different than before, much more context.” “It’s adapting.” Aro’s eyes lit up with glee. You didn’t have the same enthusiasm. “Now, Jane.” he grinned, eager. You straightened up taking a deep breath. The exhaustion already hitting you. You concentrated on Jane and slipped into her mind. There was fire everywhere, a village in ruins before her. Barely two feet before her, stood a little boy, blonde hair and bright red eyes. Jane tutted, wagging her finger at the boy before lifting him into her arms and onto her hip. Within a second a blonde woman with the same red eyes, clearly destressed in dated clothing runs out, crying out in terror and reaching out for the boy. Suddenly she fell to her knees in agony. Aro and Caius leaned in to one another, speaking lowly. “This one is longer than the previous ones.” Caius noted and Aro grinned. “Yes. A sure sign of improvement.” “Jane? Are you still alright?” Aro asked. “Yes.” She said passively. “I don't know what they’re seeing.” “How fascinating!” Aro’s eyes gleamed. Suddenly your breathing changed, as though something made you panic. However, you didn’t break eye contact.

You gasped, recoiling and breaking out of the vision. “I-She- the boy-” You panted.”I don’t want to do this anymore.” You looked frightened but Aro couldn’t stop here and Caius was in agreement. “(Y/N), this is the furthest you’ve ever gone and like it or not, improving your gift means to go beyond your comfort zone.” Caius said. “Why did he...? Marcus?” You rambled. “It’s in the past!” Caius said sharply. “Now me, my dear.” Aro grinned almost manically. Your eyes flickered up to his, as you shook slightly. You had no idea how much time had passed doing this but you felt exhausted and weren’t sure you’d be break through to Aro’s mind.

As soon as you were in, you knew you had done too much. The rooms were the same but the interior was not. You were walking into a bedroom where a woman with dark hair sat, her back to you, although her red eyes caught a glimpse of you in her reflection. She brushed her hair, eyes glued to the vanity mirror. “Brother.” She acknowledged, continuing to brush her hair despite there definitely not being a tug on the section of hair she was working on. She wasn’t familiar but you quickly remembered you were in Aro’s head. You would have felt your stomach drop if you could. This was Marcus’ mate who had died. This was Didyme, Aro’s sister. Aro’s greeting was sickeningly sweet as it always had been, a false pleasantry in your eyes. Perhaps this would be a nice or meaningless memory. You could do with one of those after Jane’s memory. Aro’s ran his fingers through the ends of Didyme’s hair. “Might i speak with you, dear sister?” “Is this about Marcus and I’s departure?” She smiled at him. You grew wary, was this Aro’s last memory with his sister before she was killed. You couldn’t escape the consequences of that day, even if you hadn't been born until many centuries later. It still impacted Marcus to this day. Marcus had always insisted that now that you were around, he felt more alive than he had in years. He hadn't felt that since Didyme died. Now you felt like you were intruding on a precious moment between brother and sister. One of the final memories he’d ever have with his sister. “It will only take a moment.” Aro smiled back.

You were very still, the vampires watching over you as minutes past by. You were completely expressionless and the two leaders were intrigued to notice that this one was much longer. Your breathing picked up ever so lightly but nothing seemed to happen. The twins cast a glance at one another, neither able to decipher what you could be seeing. Suddenly, your eyes widened at your head jolted back as though you were trying to pull away from something. After another second you jolted back again. The movements were new and violent but only your eyes were showing complete terror. However the present Volturi weren’t sure what to do.

Just before Aro moved to reach out to you, you let out a very loud scream, staggering back and covering your face. “What did you see?” Felix asked in confusion as Demetri asked if you were alright. You weren’t even sure when Demetri had arrived.

Your hands were trembling. You knew you’d have to say anything to keep their curiosity sated. You needed a lie and you needed it fast. “I-I saw...a battle.” You said hurriedly. “The-I recognised two. I think it was the Romanians? I tried to get out! I couldn’t get out!” You cried out. “Ah, our battle with the Romanians.” Aro nodded. “A brutal one indeed.”

You felt like you were going to be sick. The truth was worse. You had seen something you were never supposed to see. / You watched as Aro killed his sister and he and Caius got rid of Didyme’s body, vowing no one could know about it. Finally you had been able to break free from the vision with a scream. This had been the worst betrayal you had ever seen. After all this time, they had watched as Marcus suffered. They said nothing as they watched Marcus slowly succumb to grief and they were even the reason why. That was when you realised you had to tell him. You couldn’t keep this a secret. He had to know the truth.

“I think that will be enough for today.” Aro said tearing his gaze from you towards the other Volturi. “Alec, Jane, why don’t you take (Y/N) back to Marcus? They’ve had a difficult session today.” With a gentle touch, Jane and Alec took a hold of your arm, lightly guiding you out the room. As soon as you saw Marcus, you quickly moved your arms out of the twins grip and ran to him. You held him tightly and Marcus was immediately concerned. “What’s wrong?” Marcus said immediately worried. Marcus tried to gently pull you off of him to see your face clearly but you wouldn’t let him, blocking his view with a lump forming in your throat. He looked to the twins for an explanation. “I’ll tell him!” You cried out before the twins could say anything. Marcus looked between you and the twins before dismissing them.

“You’re worrying me, sweetheart. What happened?” Marcus asked. “I-I need to tell you. I just...” You trailed off. “Oh hell, how do I say this?” You whispered, eyes wide. How could you break the news to Marcus? This would without a doubt, shatter him. He spent centuries of his existence, barely surviving the loss of Didyme. All this time he had thought it could have been the Romanians, never really knowing who in the end. Never would he have thought that his own brother in law was the culprit and now you had to be the one to let out the centuries old secret. You had to be the one who would destroy everything...and you weren’t ready. “Say what? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Marcus looked at you with worry, taking your hands in his. You could only feel more guilt. He trusted you with his emotions, with his everything and now you’d have to knowingly break his heart all over again. You didn’t even get to avoid it by not telling him.You’d break his heart if you didn’t tell him.

You suddenly felt a tear run down your cheek and a lump in your throat. “My love...” Marcus pulled you closer to him, even more concerned his eyes searching yours for a reason that had gotten you so upset. “I love you.” You said finally. “I love you so much more than I could ever describe and that's why I need to tell you something. I am so so sorry, I didn't waste any time when I found out but I am still so so sorry that i’m the one who has to tell you.” Your voice quivered.

You guided him to sit on the marble bench and he quickly pulled you to sit beside him. “You can tell me anything.” Marcus said quietly and the look in his eyes told you that he was being sincere. “There’s a chance you might never look at me the same again.” You whispered. “Tell me.” Marcus said quietly. “You know about my gift? About practicing it?” Your voice continued to tremble. “Yes.” Marcus nodded. “Something happened. I went too far. I don’t know how i did it. I...” Your heart began to race as you began to panic and Marcus was quick to settle you. “It’s alright. Take a deep breath. Did you get hurt?” You shook your head. “Marcus...i saw in Aro’s head and I saw everyone. You were dressed different but i recognised everyone, everyone but one.” “A memory of Aro’s perhaps?” You nodded. “I’m sure of it but... what I saw. Marcus i shouldn't have seen it.” “Aro has a dark past, we all do.” “No, Marcus, this is worse!” You shook violently.

Marcus was quiet before he slowly nodded squeezing your hands gently. “I didn’t know who she was. I hadn’t seen her before but the longer i was in there I realised who she was. I saw her with you.” You began to cry. “Who?” “Didyme.” You whispered. Marcus looked slightly surprised before nodding, despite his evident unease. “If that’s the case then you went quite far, my dear.” “I’m just going to come out and say it.” You’re voice quivered another tear running down your face. “I saw Didyme die. I was there, I apologised and I-I pulled her head off! C-Caius helped me get rid of the body and i was so scared! I couldn’t stop myself!” Marcus began to pull away slightly, evidently in pain by the detail alone. “But it wasnt me!” You sobbed. “I remembered that I was in Aro’s head, watching his memory and it hit me that he...it was him.” Sobs escaped you. “Im so sorry, Marcus! Please, please believe me!” Marcus shook his head. “No...no, you misunderstood. You-You’re still learning, mistakes can be made.” “No!” You said hurriedly. “Marcus, I know what i saw! You have to believe me! Aro killed her! I saw it!” “No, he wouldn’t. Didyme was his sister, he- he gave us his blessing, you had to have gotten it wrong. It was an intruder most likely, even Caius and Aro put their mates in the tower, to protect them. Why would-?” “Why wouldn’t they!?” You cried out. “Aro can’t lie to himself! He-He wanted to keep you in the Volturi and figured he couldn’t with Didyme still alive!”

Marcus stood up sharply. “No...you’re wrong. You have to be.” Marcus covered his nose and mouth in shock, turning away from you. You carried on weakly. “He got Chelsea...t-to keep you here and Corin-” “Corin was being kind with her ability and i refused it.” Marcus said quickly. “Marcus, you know i wouldn’t lie to you. I know what I saw!” “Ah, I knew you had seen something you shouldn’t have.” A difference voice interrupted.

You jumped out of your seat finding Aro and Caius in the doorway, looking at you. “I suppose it shows the improvement in their power.” Caius said nonchalantly, his eyes narrowing on you. Marcus was silent and still, his back still towards you. “Marcus, do you believe me now!?” Your voice quivered. “I know what I saw! I know what he did!” You pointed toward Aro. “Caius helped!” You cried out. Finally Marcus turned, to look at you in despair. His eyes pitch black. “You weren’t supposed to find out like this.” Marcus said. You felt the blood drain from your face. “They weren’t supposed to find out at all.” Caius rolled his eyes. Marcus growled at Caius, glaring at him. “What?” You asked, beginning to shake with fear. “What are you talking about?” Your eyes widened at Marcus’ words. “I know what happened to Didyme.” Marcus said. Caius smirked. “He knows what happened to Didyme and he was an accomplice, little human.” Caius seemed to actually enjoy your reaction whilst Aro, wore a smaller smirk with a predatory gaze. Your eyes shifted to Marcus and suddenly you pin pointed his despair. It was for you. You took a step back. “You said no one knew.” It was directed towards all three and any other Volturi that could hear you.

They all said it was a mystery. So much so even other covens thought it to be a mystery. Before your very eyes, you could see it was a cover up, orchestrated by these three men, one of which was the love of your life. “Everyone knew?” You whispered. “Everyone important knew.” Caius smiled sadistically. “Other than our mates, they can never know.” Aro added.

Slowly you looked at Marcus. “What did you do?” You asked quietly. “Yes, what did you do, brother?” Caius grinned earning another louder growl from Marcus. “Caius, stop talking!” Marcus snapped. “What did you do!?” You said loudly. You didn’t want the answer but you had to know. It was like a car accident, you wanted to look away but could do nothing but stare. You needed to know everything. “We burned the body.” Marcus said after swallowing. You took a step back. “It was a lie.” You said breathlessly. “Everything, you...you did nothing but lie. This...this is what you’re capable of? The vampire world fear the Volturi but they don’t even know half of what you three are capable of. She loved you and you...tricked her. None of it was real and then I...” You immediately bent down to the floor, nausea hitting you. You were almost certain you were going to throw up. He had pretended with her and he was pretending with you now. Marcus’ eyes narrowed, looking angry almost immediately. “You’re wrong!” He yelled, startling you. “I loved Didyme! My love for her was never a lie! She wanted to leave everything we built behind! I couldn’t do that! Not after everything we had done! This is what we wanted! Didyme’s loyalty wasn’t with the Volturi! There was no other way, she’d have been killed as soon as she was out the door!” “So the best option was to kill her yourself!?” You sobbed. “Kill her before someone else did?” “I didn’t want this. I couldn’t witness what was going to happen and I didn’t want to live after she died!” You slowly rose to a stand, unable to look at the trio. “Then I met you.” His tone soften suddenly and panic surged through you. What had this meant for you? Suddenly you and Didyme had something in common, Marcus’ love was not going to save you. “Which is sad, I had hoped you’d mend our dear brothers broken heart, and you almost did. Perhaps with more time you could have.” Aro pondered. “I’m afraid you don’t have anymore time, my dear.” You began to fully cry, your suspicions confirmed. “The secret must stay a secret.” Caius agreed. “No!” Marcus suddenly said taking a step between you and his brothers. “Brother, gather the guard.” Aro said lowly to Caius who wasted no time. “Explain yourself.” Aro pressed Marcus. ”It’s not too late for them.” Marcus turned to look at you over his shoulder. “What if they stay?” “What?” You asked dumbfounded, your voice still shaking, now in complete fear. “Stay with me.Stay with us. I don't want to lose you. Perhaps i don't have to if you never speak a word of this and you stay with me.” “How could you ask of me something like that?” You said in disbelief. “For all i know, I could end up like Didyme! You said it yourself, if you really loved her, then what does that mean for me!?” “What?” Marcus looked at you in confusion. “She was your world, your everything, even now, you supposedly are affected by her death and you could have stopped it. You don’t love me like that. You’ve proven it. I-I knew for twenty minutes and i spent those minutes getting to you to tell you because i couldn’t bare keeping that from you. I was there, I gave my all to you...and you weren’t even honest from the beginning.” “To keep you safe and happy. I protected you from the truth even when you begged me to believe you, I tried to tell you that you must have been mistaken. Perhaps it wasn't too late because it was evident that you hadn't seen far enough to even know I was there! I did that for you because i know what it’s like living with it! I loved Didyme just as I love you!” Marcus snapped. “I’m trying to give you a way out of that and...” Marcus trailed off with a look of sudden realisation. “...how could I expect you to take it?” His eyes ran up and down your body. “Look at you, you’re falling apart. The very thing I had feared. I never wanted you to feel this way.” Slowly Marcus nodded, oddly calm. “So i’ll help you.” Marcus turned to Aro. “Send Chelsea.” “Brother?” Aro turned to look at Marcus. “Send for her. Now.” “Brother-” Aro’s words were cut short. “Send her here now, Aro!” Marcus spun to look Aro in the eyes, finally breaking his eye contact from you. “I have done more than prove myself to this coven! I have lost things important to me for this coven- for you! You will send for Chelsea and you will send her now because I am not losing another!” “No.” You shook your head, creating more distance between you and the Volturi leaders.

Your protests went ignored by Marcus and Caius returned with the twins, Felix and Demetri. Aro seemed to battle with himself under Marcus’ deadly stare before giving in. “Someone retrieve Chelsea.” Aro said quietly. Caius frowned and much to your horror, Chelsea slipped in between Felix and Demetri along with Afton. Seemingly the two had been out of your line of sight. “Marcus, no!” You yelled. “Don’t!” Marcus finally turned to you, taking a few steps forward. “Promise me,” He said calmly. “Promise me, you’ll stay.” You would have said anything in that moment. So you did. “I promise.” You said shakily. Marcus looked into your eyes. “I’m sorry, my dear but I know you’re only saying that. I can see it in your eyes. That’s why this has to be done.” Marcus grabbed you firmly and you screamed. You hadn’t even noticed him inching closer. “Chelsea, you know what you have to do.” Marcus said flatly, pain in his eyes. Chelsea moved closer. You screamed and cried in attempt to deter him. “Don’t do this to me!” “Sweetheart, this is for the best.” Marcus assured you, kissing you on the forehead before stepping away.

Chelsea moved around him, looking innocent and full of sympathy for you, another lie you had no doubt. “Shh, it’s alright darling.” She said lightly. “Stay away from me!” You shrieked. “I won’t hurt you, darling. I promise. I know this is really hard for you right now. I feel awful for you really, I do.” She slowly moved forward her hands outstretched as though in surrender. “I’m gonna help you figure all this out. You just need to let me help you.” She said smoothly. You shook your head tears overcoming you once again. Chelsea’s hands wrapped around your upper arms. “I know, darling. I know, this is difficult. It’s okay now. I’m here. We’re all here for you.” She slowly moved to your side, wrapping her arms around you in a hug. “You’re missing the important part.” Chelsea whispered. “You told me that you read a book once, you read that every family has its secrets? That’s true and we’re no different.” “Family?” You managed out. Chelsea nodded, her copper coiled hair bouncing slightly. “Yes. We’re a family really, perhaps not in the same ways of a human family but...a family no less.” She squeezed you gently. “You’re a part of our family, (Y/N).” She smiled gently. “You’re just as important as the rest of us. We love you. Although, no one more than Marcus.” She looked at Marcus, leaning closer to your ear. “You know, the wives were telling us just how much he loves you. They can see it written all over him. We all can. You’re the light in his life, you know.” She hummed. “He wants to protect you and spend so much more time with you. Remember all the wonderful times together?”

You did. Every last one of them, clearer than ever in that moment. Slowly you realised you had begun to calm ever so slightly. You’re breathing beginning to even out, the tears finally stopping. “You two are going to have so many more times like those.” Chelsea said with a sweet smile. “Forever. You can be so happy here, (Y/N). Just as you have been before. Nothing has to change because every moment you had with Marcus was very real.”

You felt as though you needed Marcus more than ever. You couldn't imagine your life without him. Even to the little things like the memory of his fingers in your hair, you craved more of it. His smiles, the peaceful nights you spent together, the embraces and kisses. Every last one made your heart soar.

Marcus could see the bond between you grow with every passing minute that Chelsea spoke. He felt guilt that it had to be this way, but you needed to see beyond the past. He needed you to see the bond between you and him. The bond you share with him regardless of the past. You had helped him feel alive again and he couldn't let you go on not knowing that. He could fix things with you, he knew he could. You were his second chance. He was too attached to you to have ever even considered letting you die.

As soon as it was brought up his mind was racing, thinking if every possible solution and outcome. This one was for the best. Marcus watched as you slowly began to visibly relax, your breathing beginning to slow. “Won’t you stay with us, (Y/N)?” Chelsea lightly begged. All eyes were on you. Your puffy eyes slowly lifted from the floor. Your gaze turned to Chelsea.

Marcus turned to you, just as he had been doing for the past couple of hours. You were in the throne room with him, Aro, Caius, the twins, Felix and Demetri. You looked tired after a couple of nights of difficulty sleeping. It wasn’t surprising. Since that night, you struggled to relax and Marcus could live with that. You had agreed to stay with him and so he could show you that in the end, you had nothing to fear. Even if it took the whole of eternity, he’d show you. Your eyes were glued to the floor and then Marcus heard you stifled cries fighting their way out of you. Tears began to drip down your face, catching the attention of all three leaders. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s come over me.” You managed out. Marcus rose from his throne moving towards you and pulling you into a hug. “Do not worry, my love. Everything is alright.” Marcus kissed the top of your head. “Why don’t you go and gets some rest, hm?” You slowly nodded. “Yeah, I’m probably just tired.” You agreed and Marcus kissed the top of your head again.

Truth be told you felt the moment Chelsea’s ability began to work. You could feel your free will, your repulsion for the situation, slipping away. Instead it was replaced by the want to make sure Marcus was alright. To keep the coven together. Complete forgiveness. The knowledge that you couldn’t change the situation some how made it easier for you to dismiss it. Somehow that was the worst. You were completely aware of what Chelsea had done but you couldn’t fight it or even try to care. Knowing that, is what made you so emotional. Knowing you could never break free or even want to. The solution seemed to be simple, if you kept the secret, everything would be fine. It was for the best. “Jane, why don’t you escort (Y/N) there?” Jane nodded. “Yes, Master.” Jane wrapped an arm around your waist as she guided you out of the room. Marcus waited for the doors to shut. “Alec?” Alec turned his head to look at Marcus. “Send Corin to (Y/N). She knows what to do.” Alec nodded before taking his leave. Aro and Caius watched Marcus who returned to his throne. Marcus looked to his brothers. “It’s for the best.” He said quietly.

#twilight #volturi #the volturi #reader #marcus volturi #oneshot #one shot

134 notes · View notes

rk1kheadcanons · 3 years

Note

smol hc: Being the only RK models, CyberLife used some of Markus's base code in Connor's program. Emotions & empathy for social integration, and also some caretaking protocols in case emergency repairs/first aid are needed on the job (IE reactivating the Traci at the Eden Club, or diagnosing & "treating" Hank's ethylic coma LOL). I love the idea of Con getting to take care of Markus for once if he gets injured doing Rebel Leader Things™

🥺 Anon. I love this HC so much. Connor having some caretaker protocols is...yes. Absolutely. The jury is out and they find the defendant correct.

___

When Markus limped into his office, practically hopping on one foot every other step, all he wanted to do was bulldoze through his paperwork so he could go home and forget today ever happened. He’d taken a pretty hard hit earlier when a counter protester at their rally thought it was just a capital idea to hurl a brick into the crowd. Much more surprising than the sudden brick to the knee, though, was the (almost terrifying in it’s rapidness) reaction from the crowd. The guy was immediately apprehended and cursed out by human supporters and androids alike. It was wild. His bodyguards barely had to do any work. Markus swore he heard a human yell that thirium shots were on them after this, amidst a chorus of responding cheers. Nothing brings people together like a communal ass whoopin’? Apparently??

God he really hoped that human didn’t drink any thirium. Markus still had nightmares about Leo accidentally mixing up his blue raspberry jello shot with his drink, nevermind the fact that thirium consumables smelled like laundry detergent and poison as purposeful deterrents.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go see the technician?” said Simon who, as his designated babysitter while North and Josh handled the fallout of the rally, followed into his office after him.

“Naaahh,” Markus drawled, waving the hand that was grasping a pen as if he could wave away the problem altogether. Not for the first time he wished the government would catch up with the rest of the world and just go paperless. Reading over and signing these tedious documents would be a lot less painful to do if they would just let him download it into his mind like a sensible person would. “I barely feel it, plus my Regenerative Program has already kicked in. By the time I get to the med bay it’ll probably be all fixed.”

“Uh huh,” Simon unconvinced at him. “How long till you’re repaired.”

Markus pulled up the damage report in his HUD. “About six…” he stared at the readings for a moment longer and, much to Simon’s chagrin, went back to doing his paperwork.

“...six what?”

“Bahhh,” Markus waved his hand again unhelpfully. Truthfully, he didn’t know how to make this sound better. Hopefully, his innate charm would cover for his trash convincing. “Ya know…”

“No. I do not know. What is it? Six minutes?”

Markus grunted.

“Hours!?”

Markus slumped lower in his chair. “Mmmhumph.”

“....Markus,” Simon started in a low warning voice. “If it’s days so help me I’m going to take out your other knee - ”

The door slammed open, startling Simon out of his threat, which was definitely about to escalate to more than Markus’ other knee once he found out it was six weeks.

“Connor!”

“Good morning Simon,” Connor greeted briskly, expression stormy as he made a beeline for Markus like the man possesses on a mission that he usually was. He was swinging a rather large, rather ominous looking tool box with a red medical cross painted on it. Markus didn’t even stop doing his paperwork. He knew the drill by now. “I heard about what happened and came as fast as I could.”

“Wow, the news has only been out for an hou - wait. Weren’t you in Ohio?”

“Yes. I would have been here sooner but traffic was heavier than usual and the family driving the Escalade was surprisingly insistent on going the speed limit. A majority of police officers won't cite drivers for going between 1-5 miles per hour over,” Connor rolled his eyes and scoffed, like he didn’t follow some laws down to the letter while blatantly disregarding others at any given time.

“Wha - did you hitchhike all the way here!?”

“Oh no of course not! There is a 46% chance of violent or criminal conduct committed against people who hitchhike.”

“Then how - ”

“I was sitting on top of the aforementioned Escalade.”

Markus gave him his best ‘why are you like this’ stare while Simon gaped in perplexion. “You didn’t need to car surf just to come all the way down here, hon.”

“After hearing about the state you were in, with all my love in the world I violently disagree.”

Markus sighed like a man whose knee wasn’t sparking and twitching at this very moment. And...hm. Maybe it did ache. A teeny bit. Whatever. He was still of the opinion that rubbing some dirt on it and a little stretching was enough to get him through the rest of the day.

“Well, maybe you can help me convince him to go to the technician,” said Simon.

“No need.” Without preamble, Connor plopped the heavy med(?) box on the floor and gently lifted Markus’ leg, hiking up his pants up to the thigh. As he examined it, intense as any jeweler examining a rare diamond, he hooked the back of a nearby stool with his foot and pulled it over, resting the leg on it. Markus neither struggled nor visually reacted; just kept stringently doing his paperwork like nothing was going on.

When Connor pulled out a collapsible creeper seat and rolled under Markus’ leg as if he were a mechanic working on a car, Simon went from passive observer to concernedly going around the desk to see what all the RK800 was doing.

“H-hey wait a second! Connor - it’s a pretty serious wound, maybe we should let the professionals handle it!”

Connor rolled slightly from under Markus with a large drill in his hand and an unimpressed look on his face. Surprisingly, Simon was not reassured by this in the slightest. “I assure you Simon that I am fully equipped with the latest caretaking protocols now could you please pass me that monkey wrench.”

“What seriously- UHH! I mean...” Realizing how insulting that sounded, Simon hurried to hand Connor the tool, clearing his throat. “I didn’t realize you had such uh...versatile programing.”

“It’s the same base code used in mine, actually,” Markus added, using his free hand to pat Connor’s soothingly when he heard him grumbling things like “I can do more than kill things” and “No one has been irreparably maimed in my Knitting Circle”. Damn right honey, Markus thought, Greta and Patrica have had nothing but nice things to say about you’re wool socks.

“Oh riiiiiight. You two are from the same model line, I…” Markus could practically Jedi Sense Simon about to say ‘I forget that sometimes’, so he looked up at the PL600 and shook his head firmly with glaring eyes. Simon, sheepish, held up his hands placatingly and held his tongue.

“The code...has been streamlined to cater more towards field and emergency repairs,” Connor admitted reluctantly, but then quickly added, “but combined with my own personal research outside of my programming, it is no less effective.”

Eager to keep his foot out of his mouth, Simon merely nodded in agreement. He couldn’t, however, keep the growing alarm showing from his face as Connor pulled more and more absurd tools out of his box (the electric saw was particularly disconcerting), and started contorting around Markus so that he wasn’t interfering with his work in ways that at first, seemed normal, but were steadily becoming more on par with a cirque du soleil act. That alarm changed into bewilderment when he tilted Markus’ chair back, put a car jack under his desk so that it tilted forward at the perfect writing level, put a pillow behind his head and a fizzy thirium drink (complete with a fun crazy straw) in his mouth. His standard office setup now suddenly a mini spa.

When Connor started working a polisher to his knee Markus practically melted back into the chair. Oh that sneaky bastard. He knew Markus wouldn’t be able to get anything done by administering the android equivalent of a deep tissue massage.

Bewilderment now firmly settled on amusement, and thoroughly reassured that his friend/boss was in good hands, Simon started to take his leave. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it Connor. If you need back up to make sure this guy takes it easy we’re all on stand by.”

Connor nodded. “I will escort him home for further recuperation as soon as I have finalized his repairs.”

Markus, eyes closed as he happily sipped at his Particle-Colada, grunted in response to Simon’s farewell. He was a little annoyed that everyone was treating him like a toddler over his small injury, and a little more annoyed that Simon had felt the need to hover around Connor, as if he were bracing for the RK800 to do something violent, before trusting his good intentions. Granted, Markus (begrudgingly) could admit that Connor’s methods certainly weren’t...standard caretaker protocols, and that his bedside manner was well...much like the android himself; aggressive, confusing, and, most importantly, well-meaning.

“‘Can’t go home,” Markus murmured around his straw, very convincingly and not at all like he was about to ascend to a higher plane. “Still got work to do.”

“Hmm. Do you now?” With a fond, humoring, smile, Connor cranked up the power on the polisher. Markus swore his soul was straight vibin’.

Yea, actually. Maybe work could wait till tomorrow.

#Detroit Become Human #Markus/Connor #RK1000 #conkus #emiliaf25 ask reply #RK1K #Dr. Connor Medicine Woman #Connor and Markus both have caretaker protocols

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elenamiria · 4 years

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Boyfriend Pt. 2

Javier Peña x Reader You and Javier both seem content not to acknowledge what happened between the two of you making work awkward. To solve this Javier goes back to his old habits causing you a great deal of jealousy. However when you seek out someone to push Javier out of your mind things don’t quite go according to plan.

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: Swearing, minor angst, drinking, smoking, fem reader, smut - unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), no pulling out, dirty talk, slightly rough sex, nipple play, possessive Javi, aftercare

Boyfriend Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3

Quick little note for the content, in this fic I discuss Bachata. Bachata is a dance that when danced with the right partner can be intimate and sexy however as a dance it itself is perfectly innocent, it’s a very common dance now though in the 80′s when this fic takes place it was only just rising to prominence as it was looked down on when it first came out. There’s a lot of political history behind the dance and if you’re interested in learning more about it there’s an excellent article about it here. Also if you have no clue what Bachata looks like or is I recommend watching this video before reading the fic! This is an example of great chemistry in between partners. Also thank you all so much for the support on the first part of this fic!! Everyone was so sweet, I’ll be responding to everyone later tonight, for now enjoy! I love each and every one of you who read this fic, whether or not you like or lurk - it’s all welcome and appreciated so much!! Tags: @blxwjobsforclones @fishswimbetterunderwater @aeryntheofficial @corrupt-fvcker (just in case you wanna read the next part🥺)

The second time you and Javier Peña fucked was about two weeks later. Though only after both of you couldn't contain your jealousy any more.

A few days after the car incident Javier still couldn’t stop thinking about it, about you. Your words kept replaying over in his head, ‘it wasn’t anything’, and he kept replaying his own stupid words over and over too. He should’ve said something to you about how you made him feel, about how when he saw you go down he swore his heart stopped and how when you kissed him nothing had ever felt so right before. Instead he chickened out and brushed you off like it was nothing, which is what he convinced himself it was to you - nothing.

Things had grown tense between you two where normally easy quips filled the air, leaving Steve to roll his eyes, there was silence. And when he tested the waters with a gentle compliment you simply said ‘thanks’ and went about your day. He couldn’t lie he missed the playful flirting that always flowed so naturally between the two of you and when the silence between the two of you didn’t seem to change, causing his stress levels to skyrocket, he turned back to what he was used to. That just so happened to be dealing with his feelings through sex, though not with you that would be too simple. He turned back to fucking informants, he hadn’t stopped once he realized his feelings for you but it had definitely slowed him down but now it was like a dam broke and he couldn’t stop himself.

You had been slightly suspicious when suddenly Javi was bringing more info to the table, remembering when you first arrived to Colombia Steve giving you a warning about your other partners unusual methods, but you pushed any concerns aside as you threw yourself into work. You had started bringing work home to distract you from the object of your affection who, in an unfortunate turn of events, lived directly below you. Noise didn’t carry much from below up but you were sure he could hear you moving above him, as you could always hear the person above you. So, you weren’t aware of Javier’s steady stream of lovers until a poorly timed cigarette break.

You didn’t smoke often so you weren’t sure why you couldn’t shake the need for a cig, sighing you put aside your tedious task of the night (combing through call logs for a specific number) and fetched your carton and lighter. Locking your apartment and double checking you hustled down the steps and out of the lobby, only sparing a glance at Javi’s door. With another sigh you leaned against the building and lit up, taking a deep drag you let your eyes close before exhaling. Maybe it was good to take a break, your eyes were struggling in the poor lighting and you had started to re read the same numbers accidentally, the fresh air was reviving your brain somewhat. Taking another deep drag you started to plan out the rest of your night but we’re distracted by the noise of the opening lobby door. Opening your eyes you glanced over preparing a polite smile as you exhaled but when you spotted who it was you instead choked on the smoke. Turning quickly you prayed that he wouldn’t notice you.

As you continued to choke you tried not to think about how you had just witnessed Javier shoving his tongue down the throat of some skimpily dressed beautiful girl. Finally catching your breath you were quiet just long enough to here the girl purr out “when can I see you again Javier?”

You hated the way your heart clenched at that and angrily took a deep inhale of your cigarette, though inhaling so sharply only caused you to choke again. Swearing you tried to cough as quietly as possible though that clearly didn’t work when you heard Javier call your name, clear concern in his voice. You turned to him with a shaky smile as you caught your breath. When he saw you weren’t dying he laughed softly and raised his brow questioning, “First ever cigarette?”

You laughed as you finally caught your breath though you’re eyes were watering and responded with a simple, “Nah, surprisingly it’s not”

There was an awkward pause where both of you stared at each other for a bit though you broke contact blinking quickly and before you could stop yourself you blurted out, “Should I be concerned?”

Javier frowned at you, confusion blanketing his face as he dumbly responded “What?”

That should’ve been your cue to drop the topic and your brain was screaming at you but your big mouth seemed to have a mind of its own as you gestured towards the road where the girl had just caught a cab, “You just fucked her, right? And we- ya know, but you didn’t use a...”

You felt your face grow hot and took another drag as Javier stared at you, face tight with tension. He seemed like he was going to respond before he shifted, placing his hands on his hips and questioning “You really wanna have this conversation out here?”

You felt your embarrassment growing and you shook your head as you groaned. Your hand came up to rest on your forehead in stress as you backed down, “No Javi, I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I said anything, ignore me. I’m a mess.”

“You’re gonna be more than a mess if you don’t move your hand, Jesus you’ll set your hair on fire.” Then his hand was on yours gently moving your lit cigarette from it’s precarious position over your hair. Letting out yet another groan you let your head fall onto the brick building, which hurt far more than you cared to admit due to your still healing head wound, as you whined “What’s wrong with me?!”

In your self pity you failed to notice the way Javier staying tenderly clasping your wrist, affectionate smile on his face and this time it was him who spoke without thinking, “Do you want to come over for a drink?”

He expected total rejection considering what you had just seen but when you offered a happy little grin at the opportunity he felt a warmth fill his chest. The two of you headed to his apartment and it was only then that he remembered he only had whiskey but luckily you told him that was fine. Once you had a drink in hand the tension that had plagued you seemed to melt away and the two of you were back to your usual teasing. You spent the night laughing together and sharing intimate details of your lives that you hadn’t gotten the chance to talk about at work, though it was mainly you doing the sharing. When you were thoroughly tipsy you swung the conversation back to what you had originally asked and were relieved, and secretly pleased, when Javier told you that he always used condoms. The tables were reversed when he thought about it for a second then in a panic asked you if you were on birth control to which you responded with a laughing yes.

Time flew and it was soon far past time for you to go to sleep and still get a reasonable amount before work, you knew you were going to regret your decisions when you spent the work day half asleep but it was worth any grief you would go through. When you said you should go to bed Javier insisted on walking you to your apartment despite your protests that nothing was going to happen on your return which involved walking up a flight of stairs and that's it.

When you reached your door and unlocked it you turned to find Javi standing much closer than anticipated, staring down at you with his warm brown eyes. A small gasp left your throat and your hand absentmindedly came up to play with the buttons of his shirt. You swallowed deeply when you realized how desperately you wanted to kiss him, your lips part slightly and your head tilted inhibitions lowered by the steady thrum of alcohol. It wasn’t until you felt yourself moving forward that you snapped yourself out of it. Pulling back like you were burned you bit your lip before softly muttering, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Javi.”

As you started to enter your apartment you paused, turning towards him with an enamored smile “and thanks for the drink, I had a really great time”

Javier gave you a genuine smile back as he replied, “Me too cariño, I’ll see you tomorrow”

The two of you continued this routine frequently, your body always sending you on a smoke break right when Javier was escorting out his latest ‘friend’ - you swore your brain was trying to torture you into quitting. You still felt your jealousy flare up every time but you were able to quell the flames knowing that you were the one who was over every night and you were the one bringing genuine smiles and laughs to him. It wasn’t until you saw the same girl leaving his place three times in a row that you snapped, jealousy swirling inside you. When he asked you over for a drink you brushed him off storming back to your apartment and calling up one of your only friends outside of work. She had started out as an informant, a journalist who stumbled onto a trail, but she quickly became a friend though to maintain your friendship both of you agreed to no work talk. Luckily the next day was a weekend and with minimal begging she agreed to go out with you.

At work the next day Javi could tell something was up, you were antsy the whole day and kept glancing at the clock. When Steve questioned you, “got a hot date or something?”, Javier felt himself tense but when you responded that you were going out with your friend he relaxed slightly, though he still wasn't fond of the idea. As soon as you were able to leave you bolted, stopped only by Javi grabbing your hand and a quiet reminder to be careful and then you were on your way to get ready. You chose a silky slip dress that complimented your curves and you carefully applied makeup for the first time in forever. When you were ready you called for a cab and headed to the nightclub, intending on finding someone to distract you from one Agent Peña.

That ended up being just what you did, finding a handsome stranger to dance the night away with and you invited him back to your place, determined to finally push thoughts of Javier out of your mind.

When you arrived to your building you both stumbled out of the cab, he paid as you keyed into the lobby. Grabbing his hand you pulled him into you to press a messy kiss to his lips as you backed up, this plan backfired when you tripped on the stairs and you let a burst of giggles past your lips.

Unbeknownst to you this caught the ear of a certain DEA agent who had stayed up to make sure you got back in one piece. He was about to open his door to tease you when he heard a male voice echo in the empty hallway. He cracked the door open just in time to hear you huskily laugh out “Callate la boca y dame un beso”

His heart lurched at your voice and he wished you were speaking to him instead of the man who was eagerly kissing you. He knew he shouldn’t watch but he couldn’t help it while jealousy reared its head as you broke apart and pulled the man up to your apartment. Shutting his door aggressively he sighed and poured himself a generous amount of whiskey before sinking onto his couch, contemplating calling one of the girls he had seen recently.

He could hear your footsteps above him and thankfully they grew fainter as you moved to the bedroom. Taking a deep swig he lit up a cigarette, mouth twitching in annoyance. He knew he was being hypocritical but seeing someone else with their hands all over you made his blood boil. He took a deep drag from his cigarette before freezing and exhaling sharply. He could hear your bed frame rattling.

Practically downing his drink he knew it wouldn’t take the edge off, the only thing that could soothe him tonight would be you. As he angrily puffed at his cigarette he paused, in all the time you had lived above him he couldn’t remember having to listen to you fuck someone else, had he just been ignorant to your activities or had you never brought anyone back before.

Getting up for more whiskey he sighed running a hand over his face, he was such an idiot. He couldn’t believe he let you see all of those girls leaving his apartment, though did it even matter to you? He didn’t know, part of him hoped it did but another part realized if it did matter to you then that made him a massive asshole. He was so focused on his thoughts he hadn’t realized that the rhythmic scraping noises had stopped. It wasn’t until he finished his cigarette that he realized your apartment was quiet. Pausing he listened more intensely, he thought for sure he was going to have to listen to you cry out in pleasure as you had been very vocal in the car.

Hearing footsteps and noises that were decidedly not fucking he frowned, puzzled, as he sat there until he heard what sounded like the two of you leaving the apartment. Sure enough a minute later he heard two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs and the lobby door opening. He frowned, he was sure of the noises he heard but they had only lasted a few minutes, there was no way you had gotten off that quickly. Hesitantly he made his way to the lobby and watched through the frosted glass as a cab pulled up and the blurry figures standing outside came together in a kiss before the taller one walked off.

You lit up a cigarette at frustrated tears filled your eyes. Not only had you not cum, your body still humming desperately, the whole time this man was fucking you the only thing you could think of was Javi - which was the exact opposite of what you were trying to achieve. Frustration filled your body at the thought that Javier was moving on with his life like normal and here you were hung up on a man who had no idea your feelings for him. Taking a deep drag you felt a tear slip from your eye and a moment later the door opened to reveal Javier. You frantically turned your head to the side, trying to hide what you were sure was a miserable expression on your face.

When he called your name you shook your head in response though this only caused him to worry and in a second he was at your side. His hands gripped your bare elbows tightly, voice coming out in a deep growl “Did he hurt you cariño? I’ll kill him I swear.”

You sharply turned to him, a small smile filling your face at his protective nature. You weakly responded,”No, it’s nothing like that he was a gentleman. I just...”

You trailed off not knowing what to say, I mean what could you say ‘I couldn’t stop thinking about you and thought screwing a stranger would distract me but I wished it was you the whole time’ that would go over well. So, Instead of coming up with anything productive to say you took another deep inhale of your cigarette, tilting your head so you wouldn’t blow smoke in Javi’s face.

In your silence Javier’s hand slid to your back, lightly trailing up your spine as he murmured “Did he make you cum hermosa?”

You shivered at both his touch and his voice, eyes darting to meet his darkened pools. Entranced you shook your head as his other hand came to wipe a stray tear away. He pulled you closer to him as his voice dropped to a whisper as he asked, “would you like to?”

A whine left your throat as you needily breathed out “Yes”

Then he was cupping the back of your head and tugging you into a slow sensual kiss. You responded eagerly though he kept his pace leisurely and you let out a low moan as his tongue swiped at your lips. Parting your lips he slipped his tongue in light and teasing before he pulled back, leaving you chasing his mouth. A deep chuckle left him as he gently pulled you back into your building and he took a drag from the cigarette he had stolen from your fingers while kissing you.

Javier walked into his apartment moving to extinguish the cigarette and you followed tentatively. You were suddenly nervous entering his apartment, even though you had spent most nights here for the past two weeks it suddenly felt so intimate. The last time you two had been together it was so spur of the moment there wasn’t time to think about what was happening. Now all you could focus on was what was about to happen and your mind moved to all the girls you had watched leave this very apartment, how could you even compare to all of them. You startled out of your thoughts at the sound of music, Javi having turned on his radio before making his way over to you.

You stayed frozen to the spot, staring with wide eyes as your partner walked over towards you. As if sensing your tension Javi gently took your hand in his and the other came to rest on your waist, pulling you slightly closer he began to sway you to the beat of the music.

At this you started to relax, dancing made sense and dancing you could deal with. As you softened in his arms and began to mimic his movements he allowed himself to take lead in a basic salsa. You smiled up at him with a teasing, “I didn’t know you could dance Agent Peña”

“Oh, I know how to dance” he quipped back before turning the two of you in a slow circle, when you followed without problem he started to test the waters with a few more complicated steps. As you continued following his lead he cocked his head, “Now either I’m missing something or you spend a lot of time in clubs, how do you know how to salsa so well?”

You laughed responding, “I used to dance at home, I did ballroom for a long time so I had a leg up when it came to learning. So you don’t have to hold back if you really wanna lead.”

At your words a devilish smirk lit up Javier’s face and he pulled you closer as he let himself flow to the music leading you in a spectacular array of moves, you had a feeling he just wanted to show off. It was exhilarating dancing with him, he was an excellent lead always hinting where you would go next before the move and a smile covered your your face at the freeing sensation of letting go.

When the song ended you reluctantly parted as the announcer started talking, Javi turned towards the kitchen calling over his shoulder to see if you wanted a drink.

As you were about to respond the next song came on and you instead asked, “Javi do you know bachata??”

Starting into the rhythm - three steps to one side and a hip raise then repeat the other way - you danced with yourself as Boca Rosa filled his living room. Javier had come back at your question a stern look on his face, he knew that you had definitely learned bachata in clubs and was intent on questioning just how many strange men you had danced with, until he watched the sway of your hips. The drinks in his hand were quickly set aside in favor of coming to pull you into him. You easily fell into the sensual closeness of the dance, Javi’s knee coming between your legs and you went back and forth for a few beats before a growl built in his throat. Spinning you forward away from him he then pulled you back to him so your back was pressed firmly to his chest. As you continued the basic step his hand rested on your ribs just below your chest, the other pushing your hand to swing around and rest on the back of his head. His face pressed into your neck as your hips rubbed against his, he couldn’t help the possessiveness that overcame him as he growled out, “Do you dance like this with other men cariño, did you dance with him like this?”

Grinding his hardening cock into your ass you whined when both his hands came to your hip as you swayed to the beat before he spun you away again. Once you were facing him again he grabbed your wrists trailing your own hands up your body and tugging you firmly back into him. You were practically kissing, noses bumping, and as his hand rose to bury in the hair at the nape of your neck you couldn’t help the moan that left your mouth. Your upper body swung in a half dip at the firm tug on your hair, Javi’s lips taking the opportunity to trail down your neck nipping lightly. When you came back up he teased at your lips with the quickest brush of his lips before swinging you out to the side and giving you a solo turn before he led you back to him. His leg slipped in between your legs again and in a non-bachata move pressed his thigh hard against the junction of your thighs, a pleased moan leaving your lips. You were already slick and after the mediocre sex you had earlier you had forgone underwear, clit catching as he rubbed his leg back and forth. Once he felt you creating a damp spot he pulled away hungry eyes trailing your body.

“Turn around, bend over the couch arm.”

His tone left no room for debate and you were eager to have him take control after your dance. You could feel your skirt rising as you bent over the couch and you were certain at your angle it was barely covering your wet pussy. You heard a sharp exhale and then large hands were sliding up the back of your thighs. Letting out a small whimper as Javi pushed your dress up over your hips you were unprepared when a hot breath hit your cunt and a yelp flew from your mouth. His hands came to grope at your ass, harshly grabbing handfuls as his mouth covered your lower lips. His experience was obvious as he absolutely devoured your pussy, nipping sucking and licking in all the right ways. Trying to hold back the noises that were pushing at your lips, the sheer amount of noise you were involuntarily producing was embarrassing, you only allowed small whimpers out. At this a loud clap rang out as Javi brought a hand down on your ass, instantly soothing the sting with gentle strokes of his hand. He pulled away slightly to growl out, “Let me hear you hermosa, you sound perfect”, before diving back into your pussy intent on making you cum.

Your mouth fell open in pleasure letting your noises flow freely and when a hand came to play with your clit your noises grew to pleas as your orgasm rapidly approached. Whining you arched back towards him, burying his face further in your cunt and another slap to your ass had you falling apart as the overwhelming pleasure mixed with the slight pain. Javier’s name flew out of your mouth as you almost sobbed from the pent up release, you ground back against his mouth and you felt him moan into you. He continued to play with your clit prolonging your pleasure as you heard him undoing his belt.

He finally pulled away once he was satisfied he licked up every bit of your cum and started unbuttoning his shirt. Hazy with pleasure you stood, wobbly in the heels you still hadn't removed and turned towards him to assist in removing his clothing.

As his shirt was ripped off you bit your lip and moved closer in order to pull him into a searing kiss, body heating again at finally being able to see him bare before you. Before he could deepen the kiss you pulled away trailing your lips down his neck, down his sternum and finally allowed yourself to nip your way down his stomach.

Landing on your knees before him you tugged his zipper down before pulling his pants down. You were surprised when his cock sprang free, it seemed you weren’t the only one going commando tonight and you licked your lips at the way his cock bobbed in front of you. Biting your lip your hand rose to stroke him gently, the other hand teasing at his balls.

A moan flew past Javi’s lips as you kissed his tip and what sounded like a low whimper came from him as you licked up and down his length getting him nice and wet before you finally took him in your mouth. Teasingly you kept a slow pace, only taking his tip, until a hand buried itself in your hair and Javi’s deep voice commanded ‘enough teasing, cariño’. You gave him the best innocent look you could when his dick was in your mouth before starting a faster pace, this time taking as much of him as you could. He was long and you couldn't fit him all in your mouth, hand stroking the portion left out, choking slightly whenever you would eagerly take him too deep. Whenever he hit the back of your throat his hips involuntarily bucked forward and stuttered gasps flew from his mouth. You knew you would absolutely hold yourself there, choking on his thick length as long as you could keep hearing those noises he was making. You kept your pace for a few minutes, varying how long you held him in your mouth sucking lightly until you bobbed your head again, before he pulled you off and you looked at him confused, his eyes were practically black in need as he purred out, “When I cum it’s going to be in your tight little pussy hermosa, are you wet enough for me?”

Reaching a hand between your legs he groaned in appreciation to find you absolutely soaked for him. Pulling you into a deep kiss he backed you up to the couch though rather than setting you down right away he allowed his hands to slide under your dress and gently tugging it over your head, moan leaving his throat as you were fully exposed to him. His hands traced your body reverently as he soaked in every inch of your skin, your name leaving his lips delicately before he whispered “You’re so beautiful, you know that cariño?”

He captured your mouth in another passionate kiss as he lowered you onto the couch, making sure your head was resting comfortably as he situated himself in between your thighs. Once you were settled he teased the tip of his cock up and down your slit, thumbing at your clit, drenching his cock in your juices. Your back arched slightly desperate for him to stop teasing, instead a small smirk found his face as he tapped his cock against your clit sending sparks down your spine. Your hands grasped at his arms as a pleading look crossed your face whining his name out desperately.

Both of you moaned as he gave in and slid his hard length into you, pushing until his hips were flush against yours and you were filled to the brim with him. You were convinced you would never see anything more beautiful than Javier Peña throwing his head back in pleasure at the way your walls clenched around him and the way his neck tensed made you want nothing more than to suck a mark into his tanned skin.

He started pumping into you slowly but every thrust was deep, hitting spots in you that you were certainly no one else had ever touched. His hands stayed on your thighs, squeezing slightly as he steadily pumped into you, and his dark eyes roamed your body savoring everything you shared with him. His whole face twitched in pleasure as his hand relocated to rub lightly at your clit and your walls clenched around him, the sight of his hard length disappearing into your soaking cunt causing his breathing to become ragged.

Before the sight could make him cum prematurely he leaned down to capture your lips as he picked up his pace, the thrusts were still deeper strokes than fast ones but it was effective, your orgasm building quickly within your lower stomach. Your hand buried in his hair as he broke the kiss to groan out lightly and you nuzzled into his neck, nipping lightly before sucking slightly. This caused Javi's hips to stutter as he whimpered your name out, voice raising slightly and your body buzzed in pleasure at his broken sounds.

You sucked a mark into his neck, biting gently, while he picked up the pace and as your tits started bouncing in time with his thrusts he arched his neck in order to suck a nipple into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around your nipple and as it hardened he lightly tugged it with his teeth, you whined at his treatment and he repeated his actions on the other side. Your walls fluttered around him more rapidly now as his hips slapped up against yours, cock slipping in and out coated in your juices as he neared his peak as well.

Pulling away and sitting up straight Javier watched you as you got closer to to your orgasm, the new position allowed him to rock deep into you even faster. He shifted your legs so the one pressing into the couch back was now resting on his shoulder as he pounded into you. As soon as the leg was secure his hand flew to lightly grip your neck, not cutting off your air supply but just resting there reminding you that he was in charge, his neck straining at the exertion as he slammed in and out of you. As your back arched in pleasure a growl left his throat as he pressed, “He didn’t fuck you like this did he? He can’t fuck you like I can cariño. After this you won't be able to fuck anyone without thinking of me.”

His words lit your body up as you cried out for him, writhing as your pleasure started to reach its peak. Sensing this his hand tightened slightly in order to slam his cock into your drenched cunt even faster, breath coming out in harsh pants, his other hand grasping at your tits playing with your nipples. As he thrust into you he ground out, “You have such a tight little pussy, you take me so well cariño. You’re absolutely soaked filthy girl and all for me, who does this cunt belong to? Tell me baby”

His words sparked your submissive side and you cried out “You Javi! I’m all yours, my pussy is all for you Javier!”

You squeezed him tight as you teetered on the edge though you couldn’t quite tip over it, desperate you grabbed his hand that was rolling your nipple lightly and pushed it towards your clit before grabbing his wrist and squeezing tight nails digging into him, desperate for an anchor. Javier breathed out rapidly as his hand shot down to your clit and firmly tapped with his fingers. The light sting mixed with his firm commanding words of “Cum for me hermosa, cum all over my cock and I’ll fill up your tight cunt” was enough to shove you over the edge.

You were vaguely aware of hoarsely screaming his name as your back arched high, eyes squeezing shut. You grew impossibly tight around him and his hips stuttered as he began to coat your walls with ropes of his cum. He pinched lightly at your clit and your walls fluttered rapidly, a heavy shocks shooting through your body, milking his cock as he spurted into you. You saw white at your prolonged pleasure and you felt something wet at the corner of your eyes, which you realized were tears of pleasure as you started to come down.

Both of you stayed frozen, chests heaving as you fought to regain your breath, his hand moved to rest on your sternum lightly tracing your collarbone.

After you both became aware of your surroundings after floating down from your highs he gently eased your leg off of his shoulder and you had a feeling you were going to be sore. A dazed smile came over your face as you softly pulled him towards you to share a kiss. You couldn’t hide the affection that shone in your eyes as you took in his blissful face. As you shared another kiss he stroked your face softly before sighing into your lips, pressing his face to the side of yours he spoke your name hesitantly.

“If you ever need to...blow off steam like this again you come to me.”

His words made your heart beat faster but not wanting to get your hopes up you muttered jokingly, “you’re still inside me and you’re worried about next time?”

You tried to turn your head to look at him but he gently held your face in place before speaking quietly again. “I’m serious, if you don’t want to let me know but, if you want me, I need to hear you say you’ll come to me.”

You could tell that he wasn’t comfortable with this conversation, he had said once emotions weren’t his strong suit, so you responded quickly. “I’ll come to you Javi, as long as you’ll have me.”

You felt like there was something else he wanted to say but instead he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips and your eyes slid shut happily. Slipping his softened cock out of you a whimper left you as you felt his cum start to leak out of you.

Javier swore at the sight, cock twitching in interest and he wanted nothing more than to gently finger his dripping cum back into you but he pressed a kiss to your forehead and whispered “Let me clean you up hermosa, I’ll be right back”

He disappeared before returning with a cloth to gently clean you up, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs as he worked, he couldn't help but lick one stripe up your pussy tasting himself on you and causing your whole body to shake as an aftershock flew through you.

Pulling away he grabbed the drinks he had discarded earlier and took a swig before offering one to you. You accepted it, throat hoarse from all the use it got - you prayed Javier’s walls were decently soundproof. Shifting up you let out a groan when you realized how tired you were. At your noise Javi looked at you and gently grabbed the blanket strewn across the back of the brown couch covering your shoulders with it and questioning softly, “Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

You shook your head shooting him a another smile, “No, I’m just tired is all. I should probably head to my apartment”

You absolutely hated the idea of leaving him so soon but you didn’t want to impose and so you stood on wobbly legs, cursing the fact that you were still wearing your heels, but before you could get anywhere you were stopped.

Javier gently grasped your wrist and his eyes softened, other hand raising to smooth down some stray hairs on the side of your head before his deep voice met your ears, “You can stay if you want”

You froze not believing what you were hearing and then he spoke again so quiet you barely heard it, “Please stay, I don’t want you to go”

Your heart soared and you smiled broadly nodding happily. You sat back down in order to take off your shoes and as you did Javi’s hand continued to play with your hair. As you smiled sweetly up at him he felt like his heart was going to burst, seeing you with someone else had pushed him to his limit. He knew he was going to have to tell you how he really felt but as he guided you to his bedroom he let a smile cover his face, he could get it right this time.

Seeing you in a spare shirt of his and pressed up against him sleepily pressing a kiss to his chest he knew he wanted more with you. He wanted you to be his girlfriend and for the first time in a long time he could see a life beyond Colombia, settling down with you and if you wanted starting a family. Pulling you closer to him he drifted off into sleep Javier knew he would have to ask you to be his girlfriend, but for now you agreeing not to see anyone else was enough.

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña smut #javier pena x reader #narcos fanfic #narcos smut

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dancingkirby · 3 years

Text

Shipping

I’m sorry, but it had to be done. Do y’all think this would work better as a Short Story, or just a oneshot on its own?

DAY 1

To celebrate the tenth anniversary of his ascension to the throne, Zuzu and Mai were off on a world tour. Azula had been left in charge of ruling the country. While Azula was glad that he was finally realizing that she wasn’t always thinking about world domination all the time, so far her regency had been extremely boring. Now, she was more than halfway through it, and absolutely nothing of note had happened.

Today had started out like all the others. She hadn’t slept great the night before because of the high winds that had battered Capital Island, and they hadn’t ebbed down very much by morning. She’d had trouble getting her hair to stay in its topknot while training. But the morning council meeting had proven as tedious as ever. Azula was paying the exact minimum amount of attention required as the ministers droned on about tax brackets; most of her brain was occupied on what she would have for lunch that day. Noodles were always nice, but she’d had them for two days in a row now. Anytime she ate any food on multiple consecutive days, there was always the risk of speculation among the courtiers that she might be pregnant. Never mind that she hadn’t even done any sex acts that could result in pregnancy for years…

The door to the meeting hall abruptly swung open. An out-of-breath messenger stood in the doorway, blushing deeply as nearly twenty pairs of annoyed eyes scrutinized him.

“You do realize that you are intruding on a confidential council meeting, correct?” Azula inquired of him.

“I’m t-terribly sorry, P-princess,” the messenger managed to get out. “But I was told that this needed your immediate attention.” Could it be…that something interesting was about to occur for a change?

“All right. What is it?” she asked. At her hand motion, the messenger climbed up to the dais and whispered in Azula’s ear.

“Okay. I’ll be right there. We will continue this meeting at a time to be determined later,” Azula stated.

So here she was on a tugboat, looking at the enormous cargo ship that had somehow gotten wedged into the Strait of Azulon. Azula turned to the old salt who was leading efforts to remove it and said, “Explain.”

“That ship is called the Agni-Given, Princess,” the man said somewhat stiltedly; it appeared that he was trying to rein in a sailor’s natural tendency to use copious foul language. “It’s one of the largest cargo ships in the world. Today, it was passing through the strait when the high winds pushed it off-course and into a sandbar. It also got tangled in some old nets from the Gates. We’ve been trying out dam…darndest to free it, but no luck.”

Azula took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly out of her nose. “And what have these initial attempts included?”

“We attached every tugboat in the harbor to it to try to pull it out, but it didn’t work, Princess. That fu…freaking thing is stuck deep into a sandbar. Next step would be to try to dig it out.”

“Explain how that would be accomplished.”

“Yes…well…”–the old man paused–“We ain’t sure yet, to be honest. The problem is that the place where the bow is stuck is seventy feet underwater. All of the excavating machines available were built for use on land. We was thinking of trying to get some of those new forklifts, try to extend their reach, and bring them out on boats, but…that would take time.”

“Forklifts? Is that the best you could come up with?” Azula demanded. She found herself imitating her brother’s famed nose-bridge pinch. This would not do at all. She needed an ingenue, someone who could design a whole new kind of machine if need be. And she thought she knew exactly where to find one.

DAY 2

It had been the end of a long day, without much progress being made. Azula was just about to demand that the larger, more comfortable boat they’d made ready for her today take her back to the harbor when, at long last, the other ship that she had been awaiting arrived. After this watercraft was tethered to hers, a figure came running down the gangplank, arms outstretched.

“Azula!” Sokka exclaimed. “How’s it going? We haven’t seen each other in forever…hey!” His attempts at embracing her had been thwarted by the princess grabbing his shirt at arm’s length.

“Not in public, remember?!” she hissed. Then, just as formally as if he were any old dignitary, she added in normal tones, “Councilman Sokka. It is good to see you here. I trust that your journey here was uneventful?”

“Yeah, except we had to go around the long way because of…well…that,” Sokka replied, gesturing at the still firmly-entrenched Agni-Given. “So how do you want me to assist, O Princess?” He did a little bow, and could not quite manage to keep a straight face.

“Watch it,” Azula reprimanded again. Whenever they encountered each other, she always needed to remind him that their relationship was a melding of intellects and occasionally flesh; romance had absolutely no place in it.

“I recall that you designed a vehicle that could travel underwater,” she explained. “Would it be possible to modify this concept and attach equipment for shoveling? Or perhaps even the capacity for finer manipulation to untangle the net remnants?”

Sokka took a few moments to consider as he beheld the enormous ship. Finally, he replied, “Yeah, I think that’d be possible. It’ll take a while to draw up plans and get everything built, though.”

“Very well,” Azula told him. “I suppose we shall have to simply endure each other’s company for a little longer.”

“’Endure?’ Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Sokka gave a wink that was obviously meant to be seductive, but in fact only made him look ridiculous. Azula elbowed him in the ribs.

They did, in fact, end up fucking that night, after Sokka had eaten what seemed to be about half of the palace’s food supply for dinner. They hadn’t seen each other in more than three years, and Azula was scrupulous about taking her contraceptive tea, so why not?

Sokka tried to kiss Azula after, but she didn’t let him.

DAY 3

Zuko had sent a message asking if he should cut his celebratory tour short and come home to help with this problem, but Azula quickly scribbled out a reply that they had everything under control.

Today was the day that Sokka would first meet with the team of engineers assigned to resolve this problem.

“And I’m sure that all of you will give him the respect that he deserves,” Azula told them in the most pleasant voice she could manage. Some of them were obviously pissy about being forced to consult with a man who was half most of their ages. Well, too bad. Anyone who tried to ignore him would be upbraided with the utmost harshness personally by her.

DAY 10

The manufacturing process had begun. Sokka informed her that he had dubbed this new invention the “shovelmarine.” He did not attempt to conceal his sheer glee at this horrible pun. Azula threw a pillow at him.

While the two of them worked by day and screwed by night, things were starting to get out of hand in the Harbor District. The plight of the Agni-Given had captured the imagination of the public, and kiosks had sprouted all over the piers selling miniature models of the grounded ship. It seemed that every single street musician in the city had composed his or her own ballad about the situation. Fan magazines had been established simply for the purpose of publishing the flood of stories and art that the more creatively-minded citizens had concocted. Azula had gotten a hand on one of these volumes, and her favorite story was a somewhat graphic recounting of a speculated liaison between the Agni-Given and the statue of her grandfather. Apparently, the statue was the dominant partner in this relationship…just as it should be.

This magazine had also included a drawing depicting her own activities with Sokka. She knew that she should be furious about this; that the culprit should be tracked down and executed, but she found it just too amusing. The picture was even surprisingly accurate, except that Azula had not actually handcuffed Sokka to her bedpost. They had improvised with the sash from her nightrobe instead.

DAY 16

“Okay, lets see what these shovelmarines can do!” Sokka said as the contraptions touched the open ocean for the first time. The two of them watched from the boat that was by now almost as familiar to Azula as her own suite of rooms at the palace were.

As it turned out, the shovelmarines (Azula had grudgingly accepted this terrible name) could do quite a bit. Over the next several days, they worked steadily at the problem. Finally, three weeks to the day after the Agni-Given had first gotten stuck, it once again floated freely, although it would be have to be drydocked to repair all the damage.

In his excitement, Sokka had tried to kiss Azula. She had initially resisted, but he had used his ultimate weapon: polar bear dog eyes.

“All right, but only once. And on the cheek,” she cautioned him.

DAY 25

Sokka had departed two days ago, and Azula hoped that he wouldn’t try to send love letters or anything stupid like that. He should know how it worked by now. Whenever they happened to meet, they would rekindle their affair for the duration of the visit, and then they went their separate ways until their next encounter. Of course, they wouldn’t be able to keep this up forever, but it would be fun while it lasted.

And today…Zuzu and Mai made their triumphant return from their tour.

“Wow,” said Zuko as the two of them stood at the harbor, observing as the last of the debris was carried away. “You and Sokka took care of that whole mess all on your own! Thank you, Azula.” At this point, he obviously knew from experience not to make any comments about her relationship with the nonbender.

“Why do you sound so surprised, brother?” Azula asked, turning toward him and raising an eyebrow. “It’s almost like I am, in fact, a competent ruler and don’t spend all of my days dreaming of bloodshed and destruction! Who would have ever guessed?”

“That’s not what…” Zuko began, but he could say no more as Azula caught him by surprise, got him in a headlock, and began inflicting a merciless noogie on him.

“Admit it, Zuko,” she crowed. “I’m awesome!”

“Okay, I surrender!” he squeaked out. “You’re awesome.”

She released him. “There. That wasn’t so hard, now, was it? Now let’s go get some ice cream.”

And so they did.

#azula #sokka #fanfic #sokkla #sort of #keep in mind that this is a rough draft

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ahockeywrites · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2 - Edmonton, Alberta

“I cannot believe it’s our first day in Edmonton and we’re already at a hockey game,” Addison laughed. The department Addison and Simone were contracted to work at regularly attended hockey games as a group to encourage socialising outside of the workplace and had invited the girls along to meet their new colleagues.

It just so happened that one of the other girls in the department was good friends with the Oilers roster and was able to get some good seats occasionally, and this happened to be one of those nights. They had seats right next to the ice for the Senators @ Oilers match and seeing as Addison had barely paid attention to the Blues hockey lineup, she had no idea that the brother of the boy she had been ignoring for years was about to take to the ice for warm ups.

A puck hit the glass in front of Addison and she looked up to see who hit it. Standing in front of her was Brady Tkachuk. She shot him a confused look, she had no idea he even played hockey anymore let alone in the NHL. He gave her a quick smile and shouted “gimme a text, number hasn’t changed,” then he skated off.

“Wait, you know Tkachuk?” one of her new colleagues asked? This was not how Addison wanted her first day in Edmonton to go. All she wanted was an easy introduction to her new colleagues not to be bombarded with questions.

“Yeah, grew up in St Louis a few doors down from them,” Addison explained, trying to go into as little detail as possible. There was no way she could let the people she was going to be spending a lot of time with know that she used to be friends with the devil of Calgary. Her co-workers just nodded, trying to understand how she hadn’t shared this information before. To the majority of people, growing up around NHL players was the most amazing thing ever but to Addison it was the most difficult thing. She wished she didn’t block Matthew out that summer, but she knew it was best for her at that time.

The rest of the game went surprisingly well, even if Brady was on the losing end of the game. No one asked Addison anymore questions about the Tkachuk’s, which she was very thankful for but Simone had started putting the pieces together and had pretty much figured out who it was that Addison was avoiding in St Louis.

Addison did text Brady, but she waited until she had settled in to Edmonton first. Naturally, Brady had already let the entire family know who he had seen in the stands as soon as he was able to. Keith and Chantal already knew because of their closeness to Addison’s parents, Taryn was excited to know that Addison had moved and was using her degree to her advantage and Matthew said nothing. He didn’t want to believe that they now lived in the same country, let alone the same province.

Ever since that day in St Louis, Matthew had vowed never to love another woman. He couldn’t, Addison was always the only one for him. It wasn’t like he couldn’t find someone else, he always had women falling over him almost anywhere he went, but none of them lived up to Addison. Instead of trying to settle down in Calgary, he had a different woman in his bed most nights to satisfy his desires.

Simone gave it a few days too before asking about the interaction at the Rogers Place. She was almost certain that the man who Addison refused to keep in contact with was the eldest Tkachuk child but she didn’t know the whole story. She didn’t want to reopen old wounds for Addison which could be especially painful. The safest space to bring up the topic was likely to be their shared apartment and she did one night with SportsNet’s NHL coverage in the background.

“Ads,” Simone started, she was unsure of how to approach the topic so decided to stay safe to begin with, “how do you actually know Brady Tkachuk?” Addison sighed, she knew this would eventually come up and was much happier that her best friend asked her rather than any of her other colleagues because it could have made the entire graduate program very awkward.

“I wasn’t lying at the rink, he did grow up a few doors down from me in St Louis,” Addison explained, “but I spent a lot of time at their house with Chantal because mom often worked late nights and dad used to, and still does, travel with the Blues for games. I’m the same age as Matt, so it just worked well.” She hoped that she hadn’t given too much away, it was the truth, just missing a lot of detail.

“But, is there anything else that I should know? You know, you’re probably gonna see the entire family next time you’re home and if I’m with you, the whole story is appreciated?” Simone tried to get as much information out as she could without hinting that she knew who Addison was refusing to mention.

“Matt was my first kiss and then I’ve ignored him ever since,” Addison said at such speed, she wasn’t even sure she took a breath between the words. It was the first time she had admitted it to anyone aside from her parents. “And I don’t think I ever stopped liking him.”

“Babe,” Simone exclaimed, “why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“Because he’s a professional hockey hot shot and I’m me! Plus, I was going to MIT and he really doesn’t give me vibes of someone that could do long distance,” Addison said, letting a tear fall. “I thought focussing on my studies would get rid of this silly crush, but seeing him in Calgary has just made things worse.”

Addison was shocked with herself, she had never vocalised her feelings of inadequacy when compared to Matthew before. Everything that she had just said was something she had internalised for years and the only way she knew to respond to the word vomit that had come out of her mouth was to cry. Simone came over to her and just held her. She had seen Addison like this before and knew she just needed to know that someone was there for her.

The room was silent bar the commentator for the Stars v Kings game and the two were thankful that it wasn’t a Flames game. “How about, we order some Chinese food, eat ice cream and watch some terrible movies?” Simone asked, this was how Addison solved all of the boy issues that anyone encountered at college so hoped it would help. The two spent the evening watching crappy rom coms wishing they were the main character in all of them and this was able to take Matthew off of her mind at least for a day.

Work seemed to drag along for the rest of the week and Addison let it. She was spending the majority of her time in her office, which she shared with the other graduates, and kept her head down working on a new project she had been assigned. She was designing a new ball bearing and it was the most tedious thing she had ever done. College could not have prepared her to spend 40 hours a week in front of a computer designing such an essential part of a manufactured product in such detail. All Addison wanted was to finish the design and go out to the bars because it was a Friday night and she needed a beer. Eventually, Simone and Addison were able to head home and get ready for a little night out in Edmonton.

It took a few hours for them to get showered, changed and eat something because they knew that drinking on an empty stomach was a bad idea. Addison chose to pair a deep green bodysuit with black jeans and heeled boots whilst Simone chose a flowery jumpsuit with small heels. They both knew they looked good and that gave them the confidence to head out with a smile. The Uber they had called arrived and they quickly threw back a vodka shot each. The night was cold but the bars calling their names were warm as hell.

The number of bars showing Calgary games was low, but apparently not zero because the first one they arrived at showed the Flames thrashing the Bruins and as soon as Addison looked up at the screen, she saw the baby blue eyed, curly haired boy she had been trying to ignore the life of for years.

“He’s everywhere,” Addison complained, “even in a city that supposedly hates him. I can’t seem to get away from him.” Simone shot her a look of sympathy, knowing that everything Addison had done was protect herself from getting hurt by a boy who meant so much to her. “I just want drinks.” And drinks Addison did get.

5 shots and two beers in two hours at the first bar took her to a state she rarely reached, very drunk. Seeing Matthew on tv had done it for her, he was living his life to the best so she was going to do the exact same, even if she was working 9-5, 5 days a week. Simone knew better than to let Addison go anywhere alone and made sure that she had drunk water and got home safely. However, Simone didn’t expect to wake up only an hour after falling asleep to hear Addison talking to someone on the phone.

“BRAAADDDYYYYYYYY!!!!” Addison shouted down the phone with a giggle.

“Heya Addie,” Brady replied, trying to control himself and not laugh too much but it was too hard. Here, well in Edmonton, in front of him was the exact opposite of the girl he had grown up with. Normally Addison was well kept and smartly dressed, today he saw her in a massive Blues t-shirt and hair forming a birds nest. “Has someone been drinking?” he asked playfully.

“Yeaaaaaaaaaa, I saw Matty on tv and decided I didn’t want him being the only one having fun tonight,” she said, trying not to hiccup. The alcohol she had consumed had kicked in suddenly and she had no idea what to do. As Brady was the most recent person she had texted, somehow she had called him.

“You saw a flames game in Edmonton? They must really hate their own team eh?” He laughed.

“I did! I think it’s because they’re coming for a game here next week, ooohhhh, maybe I’ll see Matty, I miss Matty, I was silly,” Addison explained, even if the drinks had gone to her head, she was trying to form coherent sentences.

“Hey, Addie, I know Matt misses you too. But, the best thing you can do is head to bed and get some sleep. It’s gotta be like 5am in Alberta, so go to bed, yeah?” Brady was really trying to help the girl, no matter what happened between Addison and Matthew, Brady didn’t want to lose the potential of a friendship with her again.

“Okaay Brady,” Addison yawned, “I’ve made it to bed, it’s sooooo soft, like Matty’s hair.” Addison couldn’t help but smile as she thought back to the time they had kissed, it was one of the happiest moments of her life along with graduating college.

“I’ll text you when you wake up,” Brady said, “now sleep Addie.” She had fallen asleep before he had even finished speaking and the sound of her softly breathing was the only thing that either Brady or Simone could hear.

prev//next

#ahockeywrites #the girl next door #Matthew Tkachuk #flames19 #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

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scapegrace74-blog · 4 years

Text

Don’t Call It Love

A/N With Saorsa done and dusted, it’s time to return to the Metric Universe. When we last left Jamie and Claire in October 2017, they were sharing comforting silence and attending a Depeche Mode concert together. Will things fall easily into place now that they have tripped over the line from being roommates to being friends? Oh, hell no. What would be the fun in that?

All other parts of the Metric Universe are available on my AO3 page.

The song by Zero 7 (another guest artist!) that inspired the title is here.

Winter, 2017 - London, England

It happened by accident. Happenstance. Serendipity. Fate. The words she used to explain the fact that she and Jamie started seeing each other outside of the flat in social circumstances that would typically be characterized as dates varied, but her opinion remained fixed. They weren’t dates. Jamie was her roommate, a good friend, a fellow enthusiast of the culturally obscure, and a brilliant pub trivia partner. They had both agreed that a romantic relationship between them would be disastrous; ergo, there was nothing romantic about their increasingly frequent outings. If she could memorize the names for the 206 bones in the human skeleton, she could certainly manage to keep her feelings for Jamie inside the tidy box she had built for them.

Non-Date #1

They crossed paths inside the massive Spittalfields Market, both of them with shoulders damp from the chilly November rain. Jamie was on his way to the fishmonger, while Claire carried a cloth bag filled with late-season vegetables, determined to eat something other than take-out on a rare day off from lectures and the hospital.

“Are ye on yer way back tae the flat, then?” Jamie asked, physically fighting the urge to offer to carry Claire’s wee sack.

“No, I’m off to the charnel house first.”

“The what, now?” Surely he’d misheard her.

“The charnel house. Don’t tell me you’ve been living over top of a medieval burial ground all this time without realizing it?” Claire teased.

Intrigued as much by her beguiling smirk as the opportunity to explore a bit of London’s history, Jamie followed Claire to a commercial highrise near the edge of the market. Descending a non-descript stairwell in Bishop’s Square, they came to a halt in front of a glass wall. On the other side was an excavated ruin, the crypt of the long-vanished chapel of St. Mary’s Spital hospital, a quick scan of a nearby information plaque informed him.

“They only discovered it was here when construction of the office tower began,” Claire said, a wistful look on her face. “For centuries, travelers and the victims of London’s many plagues were buried around the hospital, quite literally in the Spital fields. When the graves overflowed, they brought the excess bones here and stacked them for safe-keeping until the Apocalypse. Imagine, forgetting something so...fundamental.”

Jamie grunted in acknowledgement, seeing the reflection of Claire’s face superimposed on the glass. He couldn’t decide if this human tendency towards forgetfulness pleased or disappointed her.

“Tis rather...”

“Macabre?” she suggested with a grin, turning away from the display and climbing back into the cloud-roofed square.

“I was gonna say morbid, but as ye like.”

“We build our present on the bones of our past, my Uncle Lamb used to tell me. He was referring to archaeology, but I’ve found it to be true of life itself.”

They walked back to the flat, collars raised against the hastening rain. Jamie had bought enough hake for two, so they shared the narrow worktop, dicing fresh vegetables and letting their shoulders bump together occasionally.

Claire ate at the two-person dining table while scrolling social media on her phone. Jamie used the coffee table to hold his plate and the gaming magazine he was flipping through.

It wasn’t a date.

Non-Date #4

Her cellphone rang as she was leaving the bathroom, thoughts bouncing between her end-of-semester exams and her non-existent plans for the Christmas holidays. She accepted the call with one hand while starting the tedious job of separating her soaking curls with the other. At first there was only static. She glanced at the screen, recognizing the familiar number.

“Jamie?” she tried.

“...mac na ghalla, Hamish...” followed by muffled noises and masculine jeering. She switched hands and started to towel off, making certain first that the video call button wasn’t active.

“Hal-lo. Paging Mr. Fraser. You have a call on line one.”

“Ach, sorry Claire. I didna mean tae... That is, the lads were just... How are ye?”

She giggled at his discomposure. “I’m well, thank you. And you?” They had seen each other that morning, as he came off shift and she was leaving for her morning lectures, so she assumed there was more to this call than a polite inquiry into her state of well-being. She had learned over their months as roommates that sometimes you just needed to wait for Jamie to get to his point.

“Braw, thank ye. I was... weel, I’m at the park with some o’ the lads, tryin’ tae put t’gether a side, an’ we’re short a winger, an’ I was jus’ thinkin’, ye said ye wanted tae learn tae play an’...”

Another James Fraser quirk was that he rambled in broad Scots when he was nervous.

“Jamie, are you asking me to play rugby with you?”

“Aye. Aye, I am. If ye wish, o’ course.”

“I did just step out of the shower...” she mentioned, already peering outside at the threatening sky and mentally assessing her wardrobe for something suitable for a ruck and maul in the rain. “Hello?” when there was no sound from the other end in some time.

“Aye, I’m here. Nevermind, Claire. I dinna consider, ye must be gettin’ ready to study fer yer finals, an’...”

“Where are you?” she interrupted, opening a drawer and pulling out a pair of yoga pants.

“Victoria Park?” Jamie replied, sounding hesitant and hopeful.

“Give me twenty minutes.”

“Splendid!” She could hear his smile down the line.

“I better not get mud in my hair, Fraser,” she retorted before hanging up, her own smile lingering on her face.

There was nothing romantic about rugby.

Non-Date #7

The flat was strangely forlorn, even with Christmas lights twinkling merrily in the living room windows and a tiny fir tree precariously balancing its five ornaments standing in the corner.

They had exchanged their gifts on December 23rd, sipping on hot chocolate spiked with Kahlua and grinning shyly at each other. She’d bought Jamie the next Call of Duty game for his XBox. Nothing intimate, just something he’d mentioned in passing he was looking forward to trying. His boyish glee upon unwrapping the package warmed her more than her drink. Hands shaking slightly, she delicately opened the tastefully wrapped rectangle he presented to her. Inside was a cashmere scarf, luxuriously soft beneath her fingers as she stroked it.

“Is this?” she asked.

“Aye, tis the Fraser plaid. Ye ken there’s no’ a clan named Bee-cham, right?”

She was deeply touched, and thanked him was a kiss against his scruffy cheek.

Jamie had left for Scotland the next day, having somehow managed to secure a week’s worth of leave from his uncle over the holiday season. As was her wont, she’d put down for as many shifts as possible while medical school wasn’t in session, but by some fluke she wasn’t scheduled to work New Year’s Eve for the first time in recent memory.

Some of her classmates from nursing college had invited her along to a “raging party in Shoreditch”, but she’d made up some excuse. The truth was, she wasn’t in the mood for loud music and over-priced drinks with a group of virtual strangers. If Geillis had been in town, she would have allowed her friend to coerce her into whatever mayhem she had up her sleeve, but Geillis was still in Columbia and eight months’ pregnant with twins, to everyone’s collective shock. Especially the mother-to-be.

No, what she really wanted was a quiet evening at home, snuggled under her favourite fleece blanket on their couch, the latest Ferrante novel in her lap and a glass of Pinot Noir at the ready. Jamie had a turntable and a surprisingly well-curated selection of vinyl in his bedroom, but she didn’t like entering his domain without his permission.

Without giving it a second thought, she rang his cell. It was only upon hearing the raucous sounds of a party in full swing that it occurred to her that just because she was spending New Year’s Eve alone, it didn’t mean Jamie was as well.

“Claire?” he yelled over something that sounded a lot like live music. “Are ye all right, lass?”

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Jamie. I just wanted to ask... never mind. It’s not important. Enjoy your party...”

“Wait!” the background noise mutated, sounding like a riot underwater, and then there was a wooden slam. Jamie huffed a sigh of relief.

“Mu dheireadh. Are ye still there, Sassenach?”

“Still here,” she confirmed, suddenly feeling sorry for herself. She might be the most pathetic thirty-year old in London.

“Did the hospital no’ call ye in for a shift, then?”

She tucked the blanket under her feet, warding off the chill that always seemed to creep in from the wall of windows. The Christmas lights she’d strung reflected against the glazing in alternating colours: blue, red, green, blue, red, green.

“No. By some miracle of the festive season, I have the night off,” she joked halfheartedly. “I’m sorry for interrupting your night out. I wanted to ask if I could borrow your turntable and a few of your albums?”

“O’ course. Ye didna need tae ask. An’ I’m no’ out. I’m at home, at Lallybroch.” He pronounced the word with a guttural flourish that made Claire think of an exotic kind of pastry or a rare tribal custom. Any time Jamie spoke of his family’s home in Scotland, he imbued it with an otherworldly quality, like a fortress in a fairy tale, a far away land of warriors and mist. It was strange to think of him there now, while she sat alone in their flat.

“It sounds like quite the party.”

“Aye. The Frasers take their Hogmanay celebrations verra seriously. Ye shoulda come wi’ me.” Then, as though realizing what he’d said, he added quickly, “We could use a doctor. Dougal sprained his ankle doin’ a sword dance, and Angus singed his arse somethin’ fierce jumpin’ o’er the bonfire.”

She laughed, her mood suddenly much lighter, and asked for more particulars as to how his cousin’s naked ass came to be in close proximity to open flame. Without either realizing it, the last minutes of 2017 crept by.

Fireworks erupted outside, followed by the tolling of bells and honking of horns. On the other end of the call, she could hear cheering and an off-key rendition of Auld Lang Syne. They were both silent, embarrassed to have been so caught up in their trivial conversation as to have missed the arrival of midnight.

“Happy Hogmanay, Sassenach,” Jamie’s voice came soft and sure over the line.

“Happy New Year, Jamie,” she replied. “I should really let you get back to your party. Your family must be wondering where you’ve disappeared to.”

He hummed noncommittally. It occurred to her that had they been in the same place, they would likely be kissing right now. It sent a shiver of want down her spine.

“Jamie?” Her voice sounded thready, like she had just woken from a deep sleep.

“Hmmm?” Shivers, again.

“What’s a Sassenach?”

He laughed softly, and she had to bite her lip. What was the matter with her? “Tis a Scottish word for a foreigner, particularly an English one,” he explained.

“You’ve never called me that before,” Claire remarked.

“I’ve ne’er spoken tae ye while on Scottish soil. T’wasn’t an accurate description ‘til now.”

There was a long silence. She could hear the sound of revelry through the door of whatever room at Lallybroch he’d hidden inside. Outside the flat there were firecrackers. They reminded her of mortar rounds heard from a distance in Afghanistan.

“You don’t like fireworks, do you?” she guessed. It didn’t take an advanced degree in psychology to know that bright flashes and sudden pops of sound would trigger his PTSD. They really were a mess, the pair of them.

“Nay. Jenny an’ Ian’s bairns love them, an’ I told them no’ tae hold off on my account, but they insisted on a bonfire instead. It reminds me o’ when I was a lad, a’fore ye could buy fireworks along wi’ yer ham at the local Tesco.”

Jamie launched into a long account of the significance of bonfires in Highland culture, and she let herself drift on the melody of his voice, the turntable long forgotten.

“Tell me about yer most memorable New Year’s,” he prompted after his cultural diatribe wound down.

“Oh, well, they all rather blur together, actually. Too much drink, too much spent on the cover charge. You know how it is.”

“Nah, I mean when ye were younger. Ye must ‘ave celebrated in some remarkable places.”

She thought back to her time spent following Uncle Lamb around the globe. Truth be told, traditional holidays weren’t something that stood out in her memory. They felt like a foreign custom, a series of drawings taken from a picture book that showed a mother, father and children crowded around a loaded table while snow piled up outside. They bore no relation to her reality. It was no wonder Christmas and New Year’s left her feeling ambivalent.

Still, she didn’t want Jamie to feel sorry for her, so she launched into one of her favourite tales.

“One year, I must have been eleven, Lamb was leading an excavation of a Berber oasis town in northern Mali. The site closed down for the Christian holidays, but Lamb decided to stay behind rather than travel back to England. We ended up riding camels through these enormous sand dunes, following a local guide on an ancient caravan route. On December 31st, just as the sun was setting and we had begun to make camp, the camel Lamb had been riding let out this infernal noise, leapt to its feet, and started to gallop away. Lamb and the guide set off after it on foot, hollering and waving their keffiyeh in the air. It was the funniest thing.”

“They left ye all alone in the desert?” Jamie asked, horrified.

“Oh, well, they came back eventually. The camel had been stung by a scorpion, you see. Once it got over the fright, they were able to catch it and bring it back to camp.”

“Were ye no’ scared, tae be out there in the dark by yerself?”

“No. Not as I remember it. The sunset was glorious, and little by little the sky came alive with a million stars.”

“Ye brave wee thing.” Jamie sighed. “I wish I was there wi’ ye.”

She didn’t know if he meant with her on that sand dune, or with her at their flat. Either way, her answer was the same.

“I wish you were too.”

They finally hung up well past two o’clock. It didn’t count as a date if the other person was five hundred miles away as you whispered goodnight.

Non-Date #12

The Royal London was expanding its pediatrics wing, and Claire was invited to a fundraising gala held, fittingly, in the Museum of Childhood. The invitation included a plus one, and she’d been putting off asking Jamie if he could join her all week. It wasn’t that she doubted his suitability as an escort. Far from it. But the gala was taking place on February 14th, of all nights, and the symbolism made her nervous. Still, the alternative was spending the night being hit on by a drunken internist or hedge fund investor, and that was a headache she could do without.

“So,” she began casually a few nights before the event, “any plans for Valentine’s Day?” If he said he was working or had, god forbid, a date, she would just have to go stag.

Jamie set down his gaming controller and turned to face her desk. The pulsing colours from the screen lit his curls like a neon nimbus in the dim room.

“Nah, nothin’ definite. An’ ye, Sassenach?” he asked tentatively, as though easing himself out onto a frozen lake, unsure of the depth of the ice. The nickname he had assigned to her during his holidays in Scotland had stuck. She didn’t correct the inaccuracy, as she rather liked the idea of having a name that was only his.

“Well, I’ve been summoned to a fundraising gala for the hospital, and I was wondering... not that you need feel obliged... it’s black tie, which is really the height of pretension, if you ask me... anyway, there’s no way to decline gracefully short of an aneurysm, so...”

“Out wi’ it, Sassenach,” he prodded.

“Mightyouconsiderbeingmydate?” she blurted, before taking a large gulp of tepid tea.

“Yer date?” he asked as though he had never heard of such a thing.

She sighed, resigned to the fact he was going to make this difficult. “Yes. My date. My plus one. My social companion. And hopefully, my defence against spending the evening being pitied and set up with someone’s second cousin, Nigel, the chartered accountant.”

“Do ye have somethin’ against accountants, then?” The corner of his lip was twitching with the birth of a grin.

“Oh, very funny, you bloody Scot. Look, I need a date on Valentine’s Day and you are the only man in the Greater London Area who won’t interpret that as an opportunity for a pity shag. The offer is on the table. Take it or leave it.”

Something flashed behind his eyes that she couldn’t interpret. Then it was gone.

“Ne’er fear, Sassenach. I’ll protect ye from all the wee Nigels.”

***

She’d forgotten to ask whether Jamie had suitable attire for a black tie event. It was too late now, regardless. They were meeting at the museum, since she was on shift until eight. Using the nurses on-call room to get changed, she slinked into her burgundy chiffon gown, its gauzy layers wrapping around her like millefeuille. Her hair was a lost cause, so she slicked it back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck and hoped for the best. Silver chandelier earrings and a dab of cologne below her jaw, and she was ready to go. She carried a small beaded clutch and her dress shoes - there was no way she was navigating the Tube in stilettos.

The museum was a single massive space, conversation and the tympani of glassware echoing against its high-arched ceiling. She stood in the entryway after checking her coat, spinning in circles and trying to get her bearings. More than one lascivious glance was directed her way, but she studiously ignored them in favour of looking for Jamie. With his height and red hair, he shouldn’t be hard to pick out of the crowd.

There was an appreciative murmur from behind her, a gust of fresh air, and then a soft tap against her bare shoulder. She turned around.

No. Not hard to pick out from a crowd at all. Standing before her was James Fraser in full Highland regalia. He wore his family tartan, a black velvet waistcoat, brilliant white dress shirt and a black bow tie. When her gaze fell to the floor, she noticed his polished brogues and white socks pulled up to his knees. She’d never before considered how a man’s knees might be alluring, but there it was. Jamie had very sexy knees.

“G’d evening, Sassenach. Ye look... weel, ye look bonnie.” Jamie’s normally deep voice was gruffer than usual, perhaps on account of the cold night air. Or maybe his bowtie was tied too tight.

“Good evening, Jamie,” she replied once she found her voice. “You look, well, if you were a Jacobite, I’d say you looked regal.”

The tops of Jamie’s ears went red, and he ducked his chin, his tamed curls falling briefly forward. It gave him the look of a bashful child receiving unexpected praise, completely at odds with the strikingly masculine figure he cut.

“No’ a Nigel, then?” he teased.

“No. Definitely not a Nigel. Come, let’s get something to drink before all the top-shelf liquor runs out. You wouldn’t believe how much some of these doctors can put away!”

Jamie was a perfect date. He stood by her elbow as she mingled and greeted various colleagues and professors, nodding at their tales of medical misfortune and smiling at their awkward jokes. He spoke confidently about his work and current affairs, and patiently tolerated endless jibes about what a true Scotsman wore beneath his kilt.

When she politely excused them from one such conversation, he leaned over to whisper in her ear as they walked away to fortify themselves with more alcohol.

“I’ve a mind tae lift my plaid an’ moon the entire assembly the next time one o’ yer wee doctor friends asks about my underthings. Are ye sure they arena raising funds for a new proctology department, Sassenach?”

She snorted in a truly unladylike fashion and turned to meet his unrepentant smirk. Just then, a figure approaching from the bar caught her eye.

Oh no. It couldn’t be. After five years, she’d finally relaxed her vigilance, had ceased anticipating his presence at every turn, and now, here he was.

“Sassenach?” Jamie was watching her with concern. The blush had drained from her cheeks, leaving her wine-stained lips and sintering eyes the only colour on her face.

“Claire! Fancy meeting you here!” Had his voice always been so nasal? His eyes so glassy and vacant, like portals into nothingness. He’d obviously been drinking heavily. A blond woman half his age had her arm linked through his.

“Frank,” she uttered his name. Jamie stepped into her side, his posture erect, somehow sensing that she needed his protection from this unheralded threat.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise. I’d heard you’d gone into the army, or some such thing. Afghanistan, was it? Well, with your penchant for violence, I suppose that’s fitting.”

She breathed deeply through her nose. She would not let him get the better of her. She wasn’t that person anymore. With a clammy hand, she grabbed onto Jamie’s fingers where they rested around her hip. He squeezed back. He was here. She wasn’t alone. It was all the strength she needed.

“Yes, that’s right. I served overseas for a time, but I’m back in London now. In medical school. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we were just leaving.”

Focusing on each step, she turned towards the exit, Jamie’s hand now warm upon the small of her back. Her chin wobbled, but she bit down hard to stave off tears.

“A doctor?” Frank taunted from behind her. “Wouldn’t a demolition expert be more apropos, darling?”

She froze, spine trembling with anger. Jamie made a questioning noise, asking without words if she wanted him to intervene. She didn’t.

Glancing over her shoulder, she dealt her parting blow.

“Give my best to Amelia and the children.” Without waiting to witness the aftermath of her pronouncement, she made her way out into the chilly night air, Jamie’s bulk a silent sentinel at her side.

It wasn’t a date if it ended on the floor of your bathroom, crying ugly sobs as mascara stained your cheeks, while your partner held your shoulders and made soothing noises with his throat.

That wasn’t dating, that was survival.

***

mac na ghalla = son of a bitch

Mu dheireadh = finally

#my writing #outlander

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