#And even more confounding when he's being nice and then turns around and is mean again haha ♪ False hope everywhere

[heavenlyvision]

After hell freezes over

Word count: 16k

Pairing: Bi-Han x F!Reader

This part four to my 'When hell freezes over' series, read the other parts first, linked below :3

part one, part two, part three

A/N: This got way out of hand guys, I am so sorry. Thank you so much for your patience and kindness while waiting for this update !!! I love and appreciate you all so much!!! Also: LONGEST FIC!!!!

Summary:  The cat’s out the bag, everyone knows, and now you have to have a very awkward conversation and Bi-Han isn’t around to help. When he gets back, you try to offer him space to open up to you, but you have to do the same in return. Bi-Han makes you keep your word.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst (iddy bit), soft!Bi-Han (like so soft almost ooc), mean!Bi-Han, return of Jealous!Bi-Han, (minor) handjob, face sitting, face riding, man handling, p in v sex, squirting, clit slapping, titty play, no use of y/n, I think that’s all <33

Sore doesn’t even begin to describe how your body feels today, if you thought your muscles were achy the day before then you don’t know how to explain what this feeling is. Everything is heavy, but a satisfactory kind of heaviness. The kind where you’re so sore that just laying completely still feels like you’re about to ascend into heaven.

When you wake in the morning and reach out beside you, you find the bed empty, Bi-Han’s absence making the room feel so much larger. Your heart pangs a bit at the realisation, he didn’t even wake you. That, and he still hasn’t changed your bed sheets.

Rubbing at your eyes, you try to sit upright, body aching in protest. He certainly succeeded in his goal, there is no way you can train today, not in this condition. You rest your back against the beds headboard, considering if you really need to get out of bed yet or not.

The fact that you’re still naked is one of your biggest motivations for possibly moving. Just as you decide you should get out of bed, Bi-Han slides the door of your room open and slips inside, he’s making an effort to be quiet. But as he turns around to look at you, he notices your sitting form.

“You’re up,” he states.

“Very observant of you.” You have a bothered expression on your face.

Waking up alone after expecting him to still be here has upset you, which is even more annoying, because he is not obligated to stay. The sway he has over your feelings confounds you, he is one man, and yet, so much more.

“Are you… annoyed with me?” He asks cautiously.

“No.”

He raises a brow at you, “It seems like you are.”

You huff out a sigh, “I’m trying really hard to not be, because the reason is ridiculous.”

“And what is the reason?”

“When I woke up, you were gone.” You feel pitiful but you can’t help how you feel, and he makes you feel vulnerable.

His lips turn up into an amused smile, “That’s really cute.”

You frown at him, you aren’t trying to be cute, “I don’t like it.”

“Don’t like what?” He asks.

“How much I want to wake up to you in the mornings.”

His mouth twists, like he’s trying not to laugh, “Sweet girl,” he moves around the foot of the bed to stand beside you, “I went to get you some coffee.”

He lifts one of the two cups towards you, the cups you didn’t realise he was holding.

You pout a bit, feeling bad about being upset now, “That’s really thoughtful… thank you.”

Reaching for the cup, you hold it in two hands, enjoying the warmth it’s giving you. Bi-Han sits on the edge of the bed facing you. He’s watching you drink your coffee with kind eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble into the lip of the mug.

He smiles into his own mug, “Don’t apologise for that,” he considers his words while he sips at his own drink, when he’s pulled away, he places the mug on the table beside your bed.

He continues to speak, “It is nice to know that you want me here with you.”

You tell him, “I always want you.”

He’s silent as he looks into your eyes, searching. You aren’t sure what he’s looking for but you’re starting to regret your words, maybe you shouldn’t have said that. Maybe he doesn’t feel the same. Your propensity for being honest possibly biting you in the ass. It isn’t the first time you’ve regretted your words as soon as you’ve spoken them.

But even though you sometimes regret your words, you always mean them. Which is why Bi-Han sitting stoically in front of you and not replying is making you feel… exposed, emotionally.

Bi-Han’s hand moves to pluck your mug from your hands, and then he places it next to his own on the side table. His action confuses you, are you being punished in a really specific and odd way? You look up at him, bewilderment clear on your face.

And then he’s suddenly grabbing you and pulling you into his lap, wrapping you up in his arms. His lips pressing soft and quick kisses to your face, on your cheeks, lips, anywhere he can get to. His unexpected display of affection drags joyful giggles from you.

“Stop, stop,” you’re still laughing as you protest against him.

He does eventually pull back from you and when he does you ask, “What was that for?”

“Felt like it.” Is all he says in return.

His feelings for you run deep but his actions speak louder than words. Last night showed you that he is not eloquent in speaking his feelings, it frustrates him how he can’t seem to find the right words, but he tries and when he can’t verbalise them, he shows you. And that’s enough for you right now.

You shake your head in disbelief, “Can you put me back down, my muscles are not agreeing with movement today.”

A large, arrogant smile grows on his face at this information, “No training today?”

“Try not to gloat so much,” you bop him on the nose with one of your fingers.

“Not gonna make that promise,” he replies as he moves you back onto the bed.

His eyes trail over your bare skin, looking at all the hickeys he left behind last night. You cover yourself with the bed sheets, he is not allowed to be horny again, he might break you.

You shoot him with a pointed look, “Stop it.”

His eyes look back into yours, “I am not doing anything.”

“Mhmm,” you hum back at him.

Moving from the bed, he gets up and pulls out a shirt and some underwear for you. He places them down on the bed in front of you.

“Thank you,” you say.

He grunts in response, he’s about to turn away but your hand shoots out and tugs at his, pulling him down. When he’s close enough, you lean up to him, taking his lips in a sweet kiss. One he happily accepts, his hand coming up to gently hold the side of your face. You go to end the kiss, but he pulls your face forward, reconnecting your lips for just a moment longer.

When the kiss does end, it’s on his terms. Standing to his full height again, he moves across your room and shuffles through your belongings.

“What are you looking for?”

He continues looking inside drawers, “Sheets, I said I would change yours.”

“Linen cupboard, next to the bathroom door.”

He grunts in acknowledgement; you take the hint and move off the bed. Grabbing the clothes and heading into the bathroom, while in there you decide to shower quickly, rinsing off the prior nights activities.

When you exit the bathroom, you notice that Bi-Han has changed the sheets for you, “Thank you for changing them.”

“I don’t know why you bothered, probably gonna ruin them again soon anyways,” he shrugs at you from his position on the bed.

You shake your head at him vehemently, “Nah ah, I need to heal, or you will break me.”

He rolls his eyes at you, like you’re being so dramatic, but you’re genuinely concerned for your physical wellbeing.

Bi-Han is sitting with his back against the headboard, legs spread out length wise on the mattress. As you approach the bed you climb over to him, straddling him and hugging his upper half. His arms come around behind you, holding you close.

“This is just cruel you know,” he huffs into the top of your head.

“I don’t know what you mean, I just want a hug.”

“Mm but I can feel the warmth of your cu–”

Cutting him off you say, “–You are insatiable, truly.”

“Your fault, truly.” He retorts.

You press your face into his chest, resting your forehead against it. Your body is fully relaxed against him, savouring the closeness and enjoying the intimate moment. You think Bi-Han gives the best hugs, his embrace holds you perfectly, always making you feel so secure.

Moving your head to the side so your cheek rests on his chest, you say, “How am I going to get out of training?”

“Tell the truth,” he shrugs.

“That is an awful idea, and you know it.”

“Well, whatever you decide, it will have to be soon.”

“Not helpful,” you complain.

You can’t see it, but you just know he’s rolled his eyes at you again, “Tell them you wanna meditate or some shit, whatever it is you spend hours doing at that rock.”

“That is helpful, albeit rude,” his idea isn’t a bad one though, you could just sit at the rock, Liu Kang doesn’t mind when you train like that.

His chest rumbles with an amused sound at your complaint of his rudeness.

“Before I forget, I have a mission to go on with Kuai Liang and Tomas, I will be gone for a few days,” he mentions it flippantly.

His attitude towards telling you irks you a bit, you look him in the eyes, chin resting on his chest again, “If you ever manage to forget to tell me something like that, I will hunt you down just to give you the silent treatment.”

He has an entertained smile on his face, “Then, I will always tell you when I have to leave.”

“Good,” you state, pressing a kiss to his chest before laying back down.

You end up falling back to sleep, laying against his body. You don’t get much more sleep, unfortunately having to start the day but you appreciate the extra half an hour you do manage to get. Especially since when you do wake up, Bi-Han is still holding you.

❆˖°

You’ve not run into anyone today; you sought out Liu Kang to inform him of your decision to meditate today and then came straight to the rock. Despite actively avoiding everyone, the turtleneck you wore yesterday has made a secondary appearance today, hiding the additional hickeys bestowed upon your skin. It’s hot when Bi-Han gives you them but people seeing them is so insanely embarrassing. One wouldn’t be that bad, but you have like 20 on you right now.

The pure volume of them is what has you hiding your body, it wouldn’t even matter if everyone knew you were with Bi-Han. The idea of them seeing visual evidence of how you practically let him do to you as he pleases in the bedroom would have you dying on the spot from mortification. But, you digress, hopefully they will heal while Bi-Han is gone, and you’ll be able to stop dressing in long necked shirts. Which seems feasible until you remember that he’s probably just going to mark you up even more when he comes back. Whatever, this is a problem for future you.

Right now, you should be focusing on your breathing, which is easy enough, you didn’t realise how much you’ve missed your enlightenment rock. It gives you the space to breathe and reconnect with nature, feeling the energy move through you. Time always manages to slip away from you when you come here, too engrossed in the way you feel, the things you can sense. The Earth speaking to you, it’s soothing.

Footsteps can be felt on the Earth behind you, and then you feel Bi-Han’s eyes on you. His presence has you smiling to yourself, but you don’t move, waiting for him to come to you. Which, he does, walking around you and standing directly in front of the rock.

Your lack of a response has him huffing out, “I know you know I am here. You always know.”

“And don’t you forget it,” you retort, smiling up at him now.

His face is stoic, but his tone is gentle, “I have to leave now, we should be back in a few days, maybe less.”

“Be safe,” you tell him.

The thought of not seeing him for a few days dampens your mood, you’ve been growing accustomed to his presence. You feel like he just left on a mission for Liu Kang, but you understand he is an important man with commitments he has to attend to. You’re just some girl he likes.

“Mmm, I’ll try,” he shrugs in response to your request.

You frown in disapproval at him, “Not funny.”

His attitude is dismissive, “I’ll be fine.”

“When you come back, I have something I want to show you.”

“And what’s that?” His expression turns suggestive.

Your roll your eyes at him, “Nothing like that.”

You go to lightly smack him on the chest, but he catches your hand in the air. Stopping it from making contact. His hand drops yours, both of his coming up to hold your face in his hands. His eyes look intently into your own, his really pretty eyes. You practically melt for him in his hands.

Your expression makes him smile fondly at you, “So sweet on me.” He observes.

“I’ll stop.” You threaten, you don’t need the attentive commentary on your feelings, it makes you feel open.

It makes you feel seen, the horrible ordeal of being known and all that. It’s attention you are not accustomed to.

“Don’t you dare.” He hums, looking at you, eyes sparkling as they flit over your face, your neck; he won’t say it but he’s sweet on you too. Maybe more than you are on him.

You want to retort back again, keep the back and forth going. Hoping to prolong this conversation, prolong being in his presence but he’s leaning down to you. His hands still holding your face between them, he immediately deepens the kiss. Tongue in your mouth, he’s insistent but not forceful. He kisses you with the force of all his feelings, telling you everything you need to know without him having to speak a word.

Your own hands grab onto his forearms, you’re letting him kiss you how he needs. He’s taking what he needs, and it has you sighing into his mouth. His lips always, always overwhelming you. One of his hands goes from your face and pulls at your sitting waist, trying to move you closer to him.

Arms looping around his neck and holding on, your body stretching up. Both Bi-Han’s hands hold onto your hips, as he pulls you into him. Lips never pulling apart for more than a second, he’s holding you to him now. You’re no longer sitting and instead pressed to him, arms wrapped around his neck, his own arms holding you up. Your feet are not even touching the ground, he’s holding you up effortlessly, keeping your mouth level to his.

His kisses are fatal, and full, and when he pulls his lips away, he rests his forehead against yours. You’re breathless, both of you are. And you’re trying to savour the moment, you rest your head on his shoulder, hugging him to you. He accepts the embrace and holds you tightly.

He speaks softly, “I’ll go anywhere you want, when I am back.”

You hum against him, “thank you.”

And then he’s leaving, taking Kuai and Tomas with him. You were his one and only stop before going.

You’ll miss him.

❆˖°

That evening at dinner isn’t the same, Bi-Han never offered much in the way of conversation, but it feels significantly quieter without him. He may not have spoken much, but his presence always said plenty.

Usually something like, “shut up, don’t talk to me.” or “don’t look at me, I don’t like any of you.”

It’s funny how much he puts up with you, when you think if anyone else mildly annoyed him, his instinctual response would be to punch them. Though, he isn’t sleeping with anyone else here.

Dinner is also quieter without Tomas and Kuai, at least verbally. They offered more words than Bi-Han, you find their differences interesting, they’re brothers and were raised together but something was different for each of them. There is so much that you want to know about Bi-Han, but he has a sad way about him, not obviously. Outwardly he comes across as angry, but underneath you feel a sadness and you wonder why. It’s something you want to ask him about but isn’t something you should ask about, some things can only be offered, not taken.

You’re deep in thought when your eyes catch on Raiden’s, he notices you coming back from your thoughts and offers a polite smile, one you return.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yup,” you nod at him.

This group makes you happy, you’ve never had much in the way of friends, so suddenly having a group of them is nice. Though, having people who care about you is an odd feeling, that’s not to say you haven’t had people care about you before, it’s just that in the past it’s been conditional or surface level. This isn’t that, everyone here is so genuine to you and sometimes it stuns you.

You’re pulled from your thoughts again, “What’s that, sugar?” Johnny asks from beside you.

You don’t know what he’s referring to, you turn to look at him, expression confused, “I don’t know?”

His smile is evil, his finger comes up and presses into a point on your skin, where your jaw meets your neck, just below your ear. Your blood runs cold and one of your hands comes up to cover it.

“It’s nothing,” your eyes are wide as you shake your head at him, silently begging him for discretion.

Johnny either doesn’t catch on or doesn’t care, “I know a hickey when I see one!”

Noises erupt from everyone at the table, Raiden chokes on his food across from you.

“What the hell, Johnny!” you huff at him.

You take it back; Johnny is the exception to the group and no longer a friend. His grin is large and mimics the Cheshire cat.

“Who gave you a hickey?!” Kung Lao yells out from next to Raiden.

You sigh deeply, of course this happens when Bi-Han is gone.

“Wait… is that why you weren’t at training today?” Kenshi asks from the other side of you.

He caught on quick, how annoying of him.

You’re holding your head in your hands, shaking it in exasperation. What did this night turn into.

When you look up again, you’re very obviously embarrassed, red in the face. The guys don’t notice, they’re all looking around the table, trying to find out who you’ve been sleeping with.

“This is none of our business,” Liu Kang interrupts, trying to be the voice of reason, but by the look he gives you, you can tell he wants you to tell him who you’re sleeping with. Such a gossip.

They ignore Liu Kang, and once they’ve determined it’s none of them, “OH MY GOD, it’s one of the brothers!” Johnny exclaims.

“Oh, well then obviously, it’s the scary one,” Kung Lao says.

You’ve still not said anything, you wouldn’t even know what to say. Bi-Han literally just left a few hours ago and now everything is out, because of him. You didn’t even know there was a hickey there, he would’ve seen it before he left too and just kept it to himself bastard.

“He does stare at her a lot,” Raiden notes, joining in.

“Et tu, Brute?” You complain.

He looks at you sheepishly, feeling bad.

Johnny’s hand comes out and shakes your shoulder, swaying you, “Is that why he looked like he wanted to kill me yesterday?”

There isn’t any point in denying… but you’re going to try anyways, “I don’t know what you guys are on about, you’ve all come to your own conclusions.”

You have a horrible poker face right now, being put on blast has you so embarrassed that any lie that you try to tell falls flat. Your attempt falls on deaf hears, they all shoot you a dubious look, even Liu Kang looks like he doesn’t believe you.

“I mean, he was especially murderous yesterday, he stares at you a lot, he went to say goodbye to you earlier.” Kenshi points out.

“How did you know he came to see me?” You ask, you wouldn’t think Bi-Han would tell anyone about that.

“I didn’t,” Kenshi has a supressed smile on lips, if he had fully smiled, it’d probably look as evil as Johnny’s. He’s proud of himself for catching you.

“Oh sugar, I am so sorry, you’ve just told on yourself,” Johnny’s hand is still on your shoulder, and he rocks you again.

You sigh and roll your eyes before smacking Johnny’s hand off you, “Not nice, Kenshi.”

“I am sorry,” he certainly does not look sorry, he acts better than Johnny but he’s just as bad.

Kung Lao interjects, “Okay, wait, for how long have you guys been,” he makes weird motions with his hands trying to finish what he means without saying it.

Lucky for him Johnny says it, “How long have you guys been fucking?”

“Johnny! Have some decorum,” Liu Kang chastises him.

Everyone else looks to you, all eyes on you, waiting for an answer to Johnny’s very invasive question.

You look up to the ceiling, hoping it might fall in on you and you can avoid all of this.

Raiden speaks to you gently, “You do not have to tell us anything if you are uncomfortable–”

“–Screw that! You have to tell us, he’s so… mean and you’re so… not!” Johnny interrupts.

“It’s been over a week, not long.” You say honestly, answering them will move this along quicker.

“Over a whole week, and no one noticed?” Kenshi says.

You clear your throat, “Well, Kuai knows.”

“You told him and not us!” Johnny is offended, “You aren’t closer to him than me, what the hell?”

“It wasn’t about choosing to tell him.” You shuffle in your seat, uncomfortable.

Kung Lao catches onto what you mean first, his eyes wide, “OH MY GOD,” he exclaims.

Raiden taps him, “what, what?” Kung Lao leans into him and whispers his suspicions to him, Raiden’s eyes also grow wide.

Liu Kang is shaking his head side to side from the head of the table, he knew immediately what you meant, he just doesn’t want to make this experience worse for you.

Kenshi and Johnny share a look around you for a few moments before their facial expressions also grow shocked when they catch on.

Johnny looks back at you, a hand over his mouth and one pointing at you, he’s being way more dramatic than necessary. But it’s what makes it so fun for him, the dramatics of an actor.

“You didn’t tell Kuai… he heard!”

“Yes, thank you for verbalising that, Johnny,” you sigh out.

Everyone is silent before he starts to let out stifled laughter, it’s apparently contagious because they all start laughing together. Everyone but Liu Kang but you know he’s enjoying this, his eyes bright and amused.

What a bunch of schoolboys, “Oh my god! Grow up!”

The laughter dies out slowly, “I can’t believe you guys, we are not friends anymore,” you pout out, “Especially you,” you target Johnny.

His hands raise up, “Hey! Why me specifically?”

“For not keeping your mouth shut.” You cross your arms over your chest.

Johnny’s smile grows even larger, if that’s possible, “Why are you wearing that turtleneck, sugar?”

You snarl at him, “I think you know why, sugar.”

Gasps comes from Raiden and Kung Lao.

Kenshi speaks next, “Jesus, did he maul you?”

Your head falls to your shoulder in a show of your own dramatics, “He might as well have.” You pick your head back up quickly, “It was Johnny’s fault!”

“How is it my fault?” His voice is offended, a hand falls on his chest.

“You flirted with me, it made him jealous,” you shrug.

Johnny pleads his case, “That wasn’t my fault! You’re hot and had your thighs either side of my head!”

“Don’t say that in front of him,” you tell Johnny sincerely, if Bi-han was here you’d genuinely be concerned for Johnny’s safety, “He already wants you dead.”

Johnny is flabbergasted, “HUUUH?”

“He actually isn’t happy with… any of you, not that he ever is,” you say.

“He tells you how he feels?” Liu Kang asks.

“He tries,” you nod.

Kenshi adds, “and he gets jealous?”

“Very,” you nod again.

“Dude, he LIKES you,” Johnny concludes, proud of himself.

“I know,” okay, you find this really funny, they think they’ve discovered something that you didn’t know, “He told me.”

“And?” Kung Lao probes.

“And, I like him too, which he also already knows,” you raise an eyebrow. You think they’re having a hard time grasping the fact that he talks to you and has told you how he feels.

“Woah, you guys have like… a full secret relationship,” Johnny remarks.

You confirm, it isn’t labelled but, “I guess so, pretty much.”

“I am stuck on him liking someone,” Kung Lao jests.

The comment pulls a smile from you because it is funny that of all people, he likes you.

“I mean at all, not just romantically,” He adds.

A chuckle comes from you at his addition.

“Well, I mean… if he was going to like someone it’s no wonder it’s her,” Kenshi says.

“That’s true,” Johnny replies.

They’re all nodding their heads in agreement; it’s making you feel bashful, “Okay, we can still be friends, since you all like me so much,” you say in a joking manner.

“Nice!” Johnny rejoices, to which they all join in the celebration. Their stupidity makes you laugh, you’re very fond of them all.

“He didn’t want anyone to know,” you tell them.

“Maybe he shouldn’t have assaulted your skin then,” Kenshi shrugs.

You decide to be a little bit mean; you turn to Kenshi and look him dead in the eyes, “You have no idea how bad it is,” you’re mostly joking but also yes, it is that bad.

Kenshi’s eyes get wide, and he tints pink as he understands the weight behind your words. It’s an amusing sight.

Johnny also catches your implication, “Holy shit–”

“–Are you going to tell him we know about the two of you, when he gets back?” Raiden cuts off Johnny, changing the subject, which you’re thankful for.

You shrug at him, “I’ll have to, I can’t lie to him, he always knows.”

“How cute,” Johnny has a sickening sweet lilt to his voice, mocking you.

You roll your eyes at him and push his shoulder, jostling him, “watch it Hollywood, you’re on thin ice right now.”

Tonight, has been, a lot, you couldn’t foresee this coming, but at least it wasn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be.

“Is he freaky in bed?” Johnny leans closer to you to ask, trying to be discrete; everyone hears him anyhow.

You take back your earlier statement; Johnny is making this about as bad as you thought he would.

Raiden rolls his eyes at Johnny, having saved the conversation from this direction only for Johnny to swivel right back around and hit you with this question.

You ask him, “Do you want me to answer honestly? Or are you just ribbing me?” You genuinely can’t tell.

“Of course, I want the truth,” he scoffs.

You pause, you don’t know what to say, “he’s hot.” You decide to be dismissive.

“Oh c’mon, that’s boring, I want something juicy!” Johnny whinges.

“It’s hot, he’s good…” You trail off, remembering how verbal Bi-Han is in bed, how much he talks to you, how much you enjoy it, you miss him.

Johnny boos at your non-descript detailing of your sex life.

“Johnny, go get laid,” you tell him.

A chorus of ‘oooooh’ erupts from the guys, rubbing your teasing comment in Johnny’s face.

“You all know far too much now anyways, any more information you want, you can risk your lives asking Bi-Han for.” You shut down all further questioning for the night.

You’re putting up a brave front but them asking Bi-Han directly will result in one of two ways, one: he kills them on the spot, or two: he gives far too much detail, happy to explain how well he fucks you, hoping to deter them from wanting you. It’s like the marks he left behind, they’re a sign of ownership, and you’re sure his words would reflect the same kind of intent. Especially after he got so jealous the other day. You’re just hoping Bi-Han’s aura is too threatening for them to even attempt at asking him something like that.

You aren’t sure if you should be concerned about everyone finding out or not, Bi-Han wasn’t exactly trying his hardest to keep your relationship on the downlow, but you also know he probably doesn’t want people to know.

Cause like he said, ‘two things can be true at once’.

❆˖°

The past couple days have been gruelling, the nonstop teasing from mostly Johnny but also all of them has been, exhausting. It isn’t particularly upsetting but it is almost constant, this is why you wanted to keep it secret. Not because of any grander reason, but because these guys are unbearable sometimes and you spend almost every day, all day with them.

Right now, you’re all having a break from training, standing in the open courtyard, you were all having a nice conversation but of course the subject of you and Bi-Han always comes back up. It’s like the go to topic when conversation dies down now.

Johnny is whinging again, “Come on, give us something! Or does he just lay there silently?”

He is pressing you about your sex life again, weirdly invested in the dynamics.

You shake your head at him, “Johnny I don’t know what makes you think I would give you explicit details about my sex life, it’s not any of your business.”

You really wish Bi-Han were here, dealing with this on your own is very difficult, you imagine it would be easier to cope if he were beside you. They should all be back later today, possibly the evening, you just have to field the questions until then.

“It’s a weird dynamic and I can’t picture it!” He is still pushing it.

“Why would you want to?” You ask him.

He’s being very dramatic, “Because it’s odd! Like a car crash you can’t look away from”

“Not comparable Johnny!” What the hell, your sex life with Bi-Han is not like a car crash.

“No but it’s like…” He’s clicking his fingers together trying to remember the term he is searching for, “morbid curiosity!” He snaps in finality, pointing at you.

You shake your head and groan, “Most people who experience that are also polite enough to not ask, be more like Raiden,” you point at Raiden, he’s standing across from you, he’s been very polite and not bombarded you with inappropriate questions.

You add, “Curiosity killed the cat.”

“Ah yes, but satisfaction brought it back,” Johnny concludes, his smile smug.

You stand there silently; you’ve decided to just ignore him now. Which of course, does not work, he is now poking at your side, repeating your name over and over.

“Come on, just a crumb of detail!” He huffs out at you before suddenly going quiet.

They’re all quiet and you know why, Bi-Han is behind you. You can feel his presence, looming over you from behind, he’s not looking at you. You assume he is shooting the others a killer glare.

“She is a sweet little thing in bed,” Bi-Han adds, his tone humourless, he’s pissed.

You gasp at his statement and turn around to him, you slap him on the chest lightly, “What the hell Bi-Han?!”

You look up at him with an angry expression, he’s still looking at the group behind you. His face as stoic as usual, his tone was angry, but his expression is blasé. He’s daring them to ask him more, he will answer and that’s a threat.

You look back at everyone, none of them want to talk, all a bit red in the face. They’re uncomfortable and shooting dirty looks at Johnny, who is looking away to the sky with an innocent expression on his face.

Spinning back round you look up at Bi-Han again and this time he looks down to you, his gaze immediately softening at the sight of you. He leans down and hugs you, one you accept because you missed him, even though he just made it difficult for your friends to look you in the eyes.

When he pulls back you go to turn around and apologise to the guys, but Bi-Han has other plans, he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, walking away with you.

You go to protest, “Hey! Wait–”

“–No,” he says, simply.

You can see the guys as you’re carried away, Johnny holds two thumbs up and has a huge smile on his face. You point at him, your gaze burning as you look directly into his eyes. Making a promise to get back at him for being so annoying and nosy.

As you walk through the grounds, you walk past Kuai, Tomas and Liu Kang, Bi-Han doesn’t stop walking, completely ignoring them.

“Hey guys, glad you’re back safe,” you say waving at them as you’re carried past.

Tomas has a confused look on his face as he waves back at you. Kuai’s expression a disapproving one, his brother continues to exasperate him, and Liu Kang just looks, exhausted.

You’re carried back to Bi-Han’s room, and once you’re inside he places you on the floor gently. Gaining your footing and stretching once you’re standing again.

You tell Bi-Han, “That wasn’t necessary, I would’ve come with you willingly.”

He changes the topic, “So they all know.”

You look as guilty as you feel, “Yes…” You say, Bi-Han gives you a stern look, but you continue, “…but actually, it’s your fault because they saw one of the hickeys you left!” You point an accusatory finger at him.

His face morphs into an expression of pride, wolfish smile present on his lips, “Good.”

“No, no, not good, and you know, it occurs to me that you would have seen it before you left and said nothing!” You point out to him.

“And if I did?” He shrugs at you, face dropping into a serious expression.

“No… mmm, no…,” you’re struggling to think of a punishment, there is only really one thing you can punish him with, “No sex!”

He’s quick to answer, “Okay, then I did not see it.”

His expression is definite, you know he’s pleased with himself, but he’s keeping his poker face on.

Your hands land on your hips, disapproving of his attitude, “Is this what you wanted?”

He looks upwards and to the side, pretending to think, “I can’t say I am particularly torn up about it.”

“You have no idea the torment I’ve had to put up with,” you sigh out.

He considers your words for a second, “Want me to kill them?”

“NO!” He knows you do not want that.

He smiles affectionately at you, “I am sorry I wasn’t here with you.”

“You should be,” you pout at him, you’re a little miffed with him right now.

And he knows which is why he hits you where you’re soft for him, “I missed you, sweet girl.”

You want to tell him you missed him too, but you don’t, instead you huff out, “I doubt it.”

He moves to you as he speaks, “Missed you, made sure we finished as quick as possible, just so I could see you again.” When he reaches you, he holds your head in his hands, his eyes soft as he looks into yours, “did you miss me?”

He’s trapped you, “Of course I missed you,” your response is mumbled out, begrudged with yourself for giving in so easily.

He smiles at you warmly, you look up at him, “Still annoyed with you though.”

He rolls his eyes playfully at you, “I am sure I can fix that.”

Leaning down he presses a single kiss to your lips; one you don’t return. He’s still holding your face in his hands, your own hanging limply at your sides. He grunts in disapproval at your lack of response.

“Kiss me back,” he demands.

You shake your head in response.

He huffs out an annoyed breath, “You’re not being very polite, missed you so much and you won’t even kiss me.” Your heart pulls in your chest and you almost give in.

He leans down and kisses you again, and again, and again. He keeps kissing you until you sigh against him, he takes the opportunity to enter his tongue into your mouth, finally able to kiss you properly. Your hands instinctually come up for something to hold onto, grabbing at the material of his shirt.

His own hands moving from your face down to your thighs, he picks you up and you gasp against his lips. Your inner thighs resting on his hips, your arms holding onto each other from behind his neck, the sudden shift shocked you and you’re holding tightly onto Bi-Han for balance.

“Relax, sweet girl, I’ve got you,” he nuzzles at the side of your face, inhaling your scent.

You take his lips back in yours, he turns the kiss dirty immediately. Tongue in your mouth, taking your breath away. He walks you both to the wall, and your back rests against it. His mouth never leaves yours, savouring the way you’re kissing him, enjoying the small sounds he’s pulling from you. His kisses are insistent, showing you just how much he missed you.

When he pulls away, it’s to look at your face, he’s taking in all your features and taking pride at the look in your eyes. It’s the same expression you always have when he kisses you, so soft for him, gooey eyed. His kisses take all thoughts from you, the only thought you have is his lips on your own.

“Ah there she is, my sweet girl, the one who’s so polite to me,” he hums, nosing at the skin of your cheek.

“Don’t be mean, not after kissing me like that,” you reply.

He laughs lightly and goes to place you back on your feet, but you cling to him, wanting a hug. He lets you hang on, but he sighs out in faux annoyance. You tuck your head under his, resting your forehead against him.

You mumble into his chest, “Still annoyed that you left me here to deal with them all.”

“Probably for the best, you are more patient than I.”

“Would’ve been nice to have you here, I was super embarrassed,” you shake your head into his chest.

“My offer to kill them still stands,” he’s joking, mostly.

Pulling your face from his chest, you laugh in response, “No, thank you.” It’s quiet for a moment, and then you remember, “I still have something I want to show you.”

He looks at you with a suggestive look on his face, “and what’s that?”

“Nothing like that,” you frown at him, he knows already, he’s just trying to get a rise out of you.

He chuckles at you and pecks your lips, “Show me later? After lunch?”

“Sounds good,” you smile at him.

His eyes glint with mischief, “There is something I would like to see right now,” he remarks, moving to the bed and laying you down on it. He’s on top of you, straddling your outer thighs, keeping you still underneath him.

“Bi-Han, do we really have time for this?” You ask, not completely upset with where this is heading.

He smirks at you, “I do.”

And then he’s pulling your shirt off, a gasp pulled from you as his head dips to leave more marks on your chest, lips trailing to your breasts. He sucks harshly against your soft skin, nibbling at the tissue on your breasts. He takes a nipple into his mouth and flicks it with his tongue, the stimulation has you whimpering, chest rising towards him in response.

His large hands grip you, holding your ribcage still as he works at your nipple, he parts from you, making a popping noise as he does.

“Got perfect tits, missed them,” he hums, moving to your other breast.

His mouth is cold, you think he’s doing it purposefully. Either way, its enhances the pleasure he’s giving you. One of his hands grabs at your other breast, fondling it, tugging at the nipple. The moans that want to escape are being held back only by sheer will, which is slowly falling away.

Pulling back, he sits up a bit, looking at your rapidly rising and falling chest. His eyes holding anything but pure thoughts, both of his hands grope at your tits, he’s toying with you. Enjoying your growing need for him, you go to say something about it, but his fingers start pulling at both your nipples, it has you sighing a moan and forgetting what you wanted to say in the first place.

He’s proud of himself, rendering you speechless just from the way he plays with your tits, and if he wasn’t touching you in such a divine way, you just might curse him out about it.

“Such a pretty little thing,” he coos at you.

“We have to go to lu–hah–nch,” you gasp out.

“In a moment,” he says.

It’s going to be more than a moment and you know it, just based off the almost feral look on his face, and by the way one of his hands leaves your chest to travel down your body. Cupping your pussy over your pants, he massages you before spreading your pussy lips to rub at your clit through the material of your pants. You squirm at the stimulation, huffing out quiet whimpers as he rubs at you.

He's about to say something, probably something obscene but it’s cut off by a knock on his door. A voice follows it, “Lunch is ready,” it’s Kuai’s voice, he sounds… weary.

Bi-Han rolls his eyes, you know he’s going to say something nasty so you cut in over him, “Thank you, Kuai, we will be there in a moment.” You keep your eyes locked with Bi-Han as you say it.

Kuai hums his acknowledgement and walks away.

You go to sit up, but Bi-Han places a hand on your sternum and pushes you back down, “Hold on, wanna look at you for a moment more.”

His words make your heart jump, but you tell him, “You can look at me plenty, later.”

Groaning, he pulls you up and off the bed, you smile up at him. Standing on your tippy toes, you give him a kiss and he hums into it.

“Watch it, I’ll keep you here.” He warns.

You giggle a little at his threat, it doesn’t feel intimidating at all, it makes you feel hot. Everything he does increases your temperature; it really is ironic considering.

He reaches for your discarded shirt, and you hold your arms up in the air, waiting for him pull it over your head. Instead, he stands there, holding your shirt and staring at your tits. Sighing at him you give him a ‘really?’ look. He does ultimately put your shirt back on you, he’s careful when he does. Not wanting to be too rough as he redresses you. It has you feeling weak for him, he’s always so careful with you, in little ways.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” he groans out, not looking forward to eating with everyone. He’d much rather stay here and have his way with you.

Taking his hand in yours, you both walk to the eating area together.

❆˖°

Lunch is… awkward. Everyone is side eyeing you and Bi-Han, he sat down beside you today. He doesn’t usually sit next to you, but now that everyone knows, he did. That introduced issues with the seating though, not the first ones to be fair. But Johnny and Kenshi aren’t allowed to sit either next to or in front of each other anymore, on account of their arguments that turn into kicking under the table.

So, Johnny is in his assigned seat next to you and Kenshi usually sits on your other side, but now he is sitting next to Bi-han. You can tell Bi-Han is unhappy with this, on all fronts, but mostly that Johnny is next to you. Though, if Johnny were to sit next to Bi-Han, you’d worry he’d say something to get bodily harmed, so you argued to keep him next to you. Furthering Bi-Han’s hatred for Johnny, but making Johnny feel special, which was not your intention.

But that is how you end up feeling very uncomfortable, the table is tense, and everyone is sharing looks with each other.

“Am I missing something?” Tomas says.

Oh God, no one has told Tomas, Johnny chokes back laughs beside you and you shoot him a look, telling him that he is specifically not allowed to tell him.

“We’re fucking,” Bi-Han says, motioning between the two of you.

Tomas has a shocked expression on his face, tinging pink as makes eye contact with you.

You have to take a deep controlled breath, your eye twitches with annoyance. Maybe it was better that Bi-Han wasn’t here the other night.

Head snapping to the side, you look at him, your expression one of pure anger, why would he say it like that? And why would he say it like that to Tomas???

He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t find anything wrong with what he said, “have been for a couple weeks.” Bi-Han looks up for a second, thinking, “in the courtyard, my room, her room..”

“Shut up, Bi-Han!” You say it in a hushed and urgent tone.

Johnny is trying so hard not to laugh but he finds what Bi-Han said so ridiculous and out of character that he can’t help but crack up.

Doing some more controlled breathing, you sit completely still and calmly say, “Johnny, if you don’t stop laughing, I am going to hit you.”

“Stop warning people, puts you at a disadvantage,” Bi-Han tells you, completely unbothered. You don’t think he realises he’s in trouble.

“I appreciated the warning,” Johnny interjects.

Ignoring the both of them, you attempt to control your blood pressure, how is this worse than the other night?

“Is that a comment from experience, Bi-Han?” Kuai asks.

Bi-Han looks at him, he doesn’t answer but his silence says plenty. Kuai looks amused at this development, finding it funny you tried to punch Bi-Han but gave him a warning first.

Kenshi adds to the conversation, “He’s right, if you actually want to land a hit, no warning.” He tells you.

“But that’s not nice, I don’t actually want to hurt someone,” you huff out. You give warnings for a reason, to give them a chance to correct the behaviour.

Bi-Han smirks beside you and says quietly, “sweet.”

Your lips downturn at Bi-Han, he’s made this much more messy.

“Was I the only one that didn’t know?” Tomas asks.

“Yes,” Bi-Han says, he continues to eat his lunch.

You tell Bi-Han, “You aren’t allowed to talk anymore,” Before addressing everyone, “I will talk, you will all listen.”

Everyone sits quietly, waiting for you, “Bi-Han and I like each other, we have been… together for almost a couple weeks now, I am not going to share intimate details of our sex lives,” you shoot Johnny and Bi-Han incriminating glances, “Tomas you are last to know, Kuai found out first and the others found out while you were gone.”

Tomas looks at Kuai, offended that he didn’t tell him about you and Bi-Han, you’d feel bad, but it wasn’t really any of their businesses anyhow. The only person you felt bad for was Kuai and that’s because he heard the two of you.

“We are adults, so I think we can all accept this and move on, yes?” You ask.

As you look around the table, they all share their agreeance, all except Bi-Han, who is still completely unbothered, eating lunch.

Liu Kang looks like he feels bad for you, “Your relationship is between the two of you, we will not pry any further,” he says very gently, trying to salvage the situation.  

“Yes, we are all sorry for being invasive,” Kung Lao says, very pointedly targeting Johnny with his tone.

“Don’t fault me for being curious! It’s an odd dynamic,” Johnny argues.

“It is not any of our business,” Raiden adds.

Bi-Han looks Johnny dead in the eyes, “She lets me do what I want, and she enjoys it, creams ar–”

“Bi-Han!” You cut him off, your face on fire. He looks at you, you have a very strained smile on your face as you say, “stop. talking.”

His eyes widen slightly, realising he’s upset you; he goes to speak more.

“No,” you say simply, shutting down further conversation. Your lunch has been finished and so you stand up abruptly, “Don’t follow me.” You tell him as you walk away.

Everything is silent as you leave, no one daring to talk.

Your plans for this evening have been ruined, you had something to show Bi-Han and you really aren’t in the head space for it now. In all honesty, you might be overreacting, but it doesn’t change how you feel right now, you need a moment to calm yourself.

❆˖°

Leaving the dining area has you feeling better, your skin felt like it was on fire. From both embarrassment and anger. You don’t know what was wrong with Bi-Han to be so upfront, the first time Kuai asked about your sex life he almost bit his head off and he didn’t even outright ask.

Now he is willing to tell everyone far more details – too many details. You need an hour or so, to process everything and calm down. Bi-Han knows how embarrassed you can get so it was unkind of him to be so blunt in front of everyone. The only thing you can think of is that he seemed a little on edge, maybe that’s why he said it the way he did but then why take it out on you?

The result is the same though, you’re upset with him. It was already uncomfortable for you, and you wanted him to help. It didn’t even seem like he tried to help, jumping straight to the nuclear option.

Going back to your room isn’t an option, you told him not to follow you, but you know he’ll be looking for you anyways. The first place he’ll look will be your room, then enlightenment rock, and probably most of the grounds. You decide to go somewhere he doesn’t know about, it’s a flower field that’s dead, has been all winter, the cold killing them and causing them to wilt.  

It’s where you wanted to bring him, but you decide to go there now, knowing it will take him a while to find you here. Biding your time, because talking to him right now won’t go well… for you. Talking things out directly after they’ve happened never ends well for you because if you haven’t had time to decompress, to get perspective, you might become overly defensive, or mean. And the last thing you want is to be mean to Bi-Han, not if he doesn’t deserve it.  

So, you sit in the middle of this flower field, allowing yourself to breathe in the air. What has happened, has already happened and you can’t undo it. But when you are ready you can talk to Bi-Han and try to understand how he was feeling in that moment. Sometimes you hate this about yourself, but you always think about the why. Why did he feel the need to say that, why did he choose that moment to say that, why doesn’t he seem to care, even though it embarrassed you.

Opening your eyes, you take in the flower field; it must have been so vibrant when it was blooming. It would’ve looked so, so alive. The beauty of nature and how flourishing it can look, how vivacious naturally occurring colours can be.

It never ceases to amaze you, when you think of how – just like people, nature needs the right environment to truly bloom and share its beauty with the world. You think Bi-Han is like a flower field, no one sees how beautiful he is, they don’t give him the right circumstances. But in small moments together, when you compliment him, or look at him with the most softest gaze, he blooms for you, and it is magnificent.

It takes him about an hour, but he does find you. You can’t tell if he’s pissed or relieved when he sees you. He walks right up to you, where you’re sitting in the middle of the flower field.

“I have been looking everywhere for you,” he says, straining himself to stay calm. Not wanting to worsen his situation.

“I know, I have been waiting for you,” you tell him, and then you pat the ground beside you, wanting him to sit.

He sighs but he sits down beside you anyways, “Why are you waiting for me in the middle of a dead field?”

“It’s what I wanted you to see,” you don’t look at him.

He’s looking at you though, intently, “Why would I want to look at a dead flower field?”

You smile to yourself, because yeah, who would want to look at a dead flower field. No one cares when the flowers are already dead, but when the time comes back around, this field will be gorgeous, and people will care then.

You ignore his question, instead asking him your own, “Bi-Han, you were rude tonight, and you embarrassed me, in front of my friends, why?”

“I… don’t really know, I was in a… bad mood and answered thoughtlessly, my intention wasn’t to embarrass you,” he’s struggling to tell you how he felt, this isn’t the type of confrontation he’s used to.

“It wasn’t your intent, but it was a consequence of your actions,” you tell him how it is. Sometimes people don’t mean to hurt you but that doesn’t change the fact that they did.

There is only one thing he offer you right now and he knows it, but you don’t really know if he’s capable of it. You think if this was anyone else, you wouldn’t hold their hand through this, but you don’t think Bi-Han is used to trying to make things better after he messes up. That and you think it could’ve been worse.

So, you ask him, “Why were you in a bad mood, Bi-Han?”

“I was… jealous, again,” he looks to the sky before continuing, “that Cage, he already pissed me off the other day by flirting with you, and then his invasive questioning of our sex life, and then he gets to sit beside you at the table, after being a little–”

“–Okay I can see that this is more of a culminative thing, rather than just earlier,” you gather pretty quickly he still isn’t really over what happened and everything else is just adding fuel to the fire.

You can understand his annoyance with Johnny, because you’ve been annoyed with Johnny, you just haven’t had the chance to properly ask him to stop, but you know if you do, he will. You’re going to have to prioritise talking with Johnny but that’s not to say all the blame is on him, Bi-Han still messed up out of jealousy.

“Tomas didn’t deserve being told like that,” you say, gently. You feel bad for Tomas, stuck in the crosshairs of Bi-Han’s anger.

He grunts at you, not agreeing but not willing to argue with you over it.

You sit beside him silently, giving him time to figure out what to say next. You can understand, kind of, how he is feeling.

He sighs beside you, “Will you look at me… please?” He asks tentatively.

Turning to look at him in the eyes you can see he does seem to feel bad about letting his anger get ahead of him.

“I misspoke and I am sorry,” it’s all he says, but it’s all you really need.

You don’t need him to overexplain himself, it undoes an apology in a way, trying to argue for yourself rather than just coping to your mistake.

“It’s not okay, but I understand,” you reply.

You both sit in silence again, you decide to break it with a joke, “You didn’t kill them, did you?”

He hums, “No, but I considered it.” He’s also joking, you think.

His hand moves slightly closer to you, you think he wants to touch you but is worried you’ll pull away. Shuffling your body closer to him, you take his hand in yours. He relaxes slightly at the contact.

“What did you want to show me?” He’s curious now.

You smile up at him, “If I show you this, you have to tell me something about yourself, it can be anything, but something no one else knows.”

He seems a bit hesitant, “Better be worth it.”

Letting go of his hand you adjust yourself so you’re sitting on your knees, turning to Bi-Han you see he’s watching you, “Don’t watch me, watch the flowers.”

He rolls his eyes, “There aren’t any flowers.”

“Just – watch,” you remark.

He huffs but looks out to the field, you turn forward again and place your hands on the ground. You focus your energy on the field, breathing slowly, you hear nothing – feel nothing. The field is dead, but as you release your feelings into the ground through your hands, you can hear the flowers sing to you as they come back to life.

Colours blooming all around you, the flowers standing tall as you thaw the Earth and allow the flowers to flourish. The sounds and feelings of the Earth coming back to life run through you, the afternoon sun hanging low in the sky falling on your face.

After the whole field is back to its most vibrant form, you sit back and look out at it. It’s not something you’ve attempted to do before, not on a large scale like this. You’ve brought back house plants and listened to the way the Earth hums, but you’ve never tried to bring back a dead field.

Looking over at Bi-Han, you see he’s looking out to the field, stunned at all the flowers you brought back in one go. You’ve not shown or really told anyone about your ability, only Liu Kang knows, and you didn’t exactly tell him. You don’t tend to tell people because it’s not something you feel is especially helpful in combat. Not like fire, or ice, you’re in tune with nature, you feel a deep connection to it, but it doesn’t go much further than that, as far as you can tell anyways.

“It’s beautiful,” Bi-Han says.

You ask, “Is it worth it?”

“Yes,” he has a small smile on his face as he turns to look at you.

Motioning for you to come closer, you move from where you are sitting and crawl over to him, flowers brushing against your skin as you do.

When you’re within reach he pulls you down to him and hugs you to his chest. You fall into his lap sideways, your legs over to one side as you sit on him, you look up at him but he’s looking out to the field. You tuck your head under his chin, ear resting against his chest. His arms are wrapped around you, holding you close as you sit on his lap.

He sighs from above you before speaking, “I trained hardest, out of Kuai Liang and Tomas… I was the eldest and next in line for Grandmaster… and I was pushed harder, given less leeway by my father. And I hold resentment towards them all, because I didn’t get the same experiences as them, I was being forged into the Lin Kuei’s weapon. They were children first and… they had each other.”

That’s the sadness you knew was there, the loss of a childhood, of brotherly connection, of any connection. This isn’t something you can relate to; you don’t know how to help him with this.

“I want to help… how can I help you?” You ask him, pulling back to look him in the eyes.

One of his hands cups your cheek, holding you tenderly, “You have been, you being beside me helps plenty.”

You lean into his hand, enjoying his touch.

He speaks, asking you, “Now you tell me something no one else knows.”

“I already showed you,” a small smile is present on your lips.

He isn’t satisfied with that, and you knew he wouldn’t be, “Doesn’t count.”

You huff out, “Mmm let me think.”

Leaning your head back on his chest, you ponder for a moment on what you could share with him.

“Sometimes, I worry that I am useless… like even when I try to be helpful, whether it be through my actions, insight, advice, anything… that it is not helpful. And I worry that I am only worthy of taking up space if I can be of service…” You pause for a moment before finishing, “I feel undeserving of the space I take up.” You bare your soul to him, because you truly feel that you’re not allowed to exist if you can’t offer anything in return.

His embrace tightens around you a fraction, “You are so useful, sweet girl and even if you weren’t, I’d want you all the same.”

His words effect you deeper than you would have expected them to, you tear up slightly at the affirmation that he wants you, useful or not. You tuck your head into his chest further, rubbing your eyes on his shirt to get rid of your tears before they fall.

Both of his hands pull your head back, looking into your teary eyes. His expression is so soft for you, filled with so much kindness, an expression you wouldn’t have thought him capable of a couple weeks ago.

“Sweet, sweet girl, my sweet girl,” he hums out, before leaning in and kissing you.

It’s a tender thing, he has no ulterior motives behind it, he just wants to gently kiss you. Wants to be connected to you. You accept the kiss, letting him do with you as he pleases, your mind filling with nothing but thoughts of how soft his lips are. How kind he is to you, how much you would be willing to sacrifice for him. Oh yeah, he’s stuck with you now, you think.

When you part from each other, he lays down on his back, taking you with him. You’re both laying on a bed of flowers, you roll off him and instead tuck into his side, he rolls to his side too, so he can look at you.

You tell him, “I think you’re a lot like this flower field, it’s why I wanted to show it to you.”

“And how exactly am I like a flower field,” he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Because, you’re beautiful when you bloom,” you say it with no shame, meaning every word spoken.

He looks a little flush in the face at your words, “kind words will get you into my bed.” He changes the subject.

You laugh at him but complain, “I have more questions.”

His head rolls back in an overdramatic way, he groans as he does, “Fine.”

“Favourite colour?” You ask.

“Blue,” he says.

You look doubtful of his answer, “Really?”

“Yes, what’s yours?” He turns the question on you.

Smiling at him you say, “The brown of your eyes.”

You’re mostly teasing him, but you also can’t think of any colour prettier than the colour of his eyes right now. The way the sun is setting is lighting his eyes up into a beautiful, honeyed brown and you think you could fall into them and die happy.

He rolls his eyes at you, “Flatterer.” He shakes his head at you, “Next question.”

“Mmm, who’s the smartest person you’ve ever met?”

He thinks on it for a moment, his face telling you that he doesn’t think he’s met any smart people, before his expression shifts as he has an answer, “My mother.”

That’s really sweet of him you think, he’s a mama’s boy.

“How about you?” He asks.

“Me,” you say, big smile on your face.

“What a cop out.” He complains but his eyes are alight with an amused look.

“I am asking the next question,” he says.

“Go ahead.”

You’re happy he’s actually getting invested in this little game, this is something you’ve wanted for a while now. Getting to know him is some of the most fun you’ve had in a while.

He considers what to ask, not realising how difficult it is to pick a question to ask off the top of your head, he eventually settles on, “What is your favourite feeling?”

“Oh, easy, earlier when I brought the field back it was silent because the flowers were dead but when I brought them back, it’s like they sing and the singing of life itself is beautiful.” You answer him enthusiastically.

You think about it for a moment more and decide to be very open, “And, when you look at me, it sends a shiver down my spine… that I’ve grown to enjoy.” The confession has you feeling bashful.

“That’s cute,” he pinches your cheek before the hand trails down your body and lands on your hip, gripping you there, “My favourite feeling is your tight little cunt wrapped around–”

“–Oh my god, do you think about anything else?” You exasperate.

His laugh is distracted as he shrugs at you, “Sometimes.”

You change the subject and ask him another question, “Favourite place?”

“Next to you… or inside you,” he changes the subject right back.

You groan at him and push him off his side and flat onto his back. He chuckles as he’s falling back.

The rest of the afternoon is spent together in that flower field, talking with each other and recounting old memories. Talking about anything and everything as the sun goes down. You think that this will always be one of your favourite memories, even if it did start with you being pissed off with him.

❆˖°

When you both return, you part ways, Bi-Han has to speak with Liu Kang and have a proper debrief about the mission. You on the other hand, want to shower and clean off the dirt and pollen on your clothes. Bi-Han promised to come to your room when he was done though.

On the way back to your room you, mercifully, don’t run into anyone and make it back without your mood being ruined.

The shower is such a welcome delight, cleansing yourself of the day and all the difficulties that came with it is a wonderful thing to be able to do. And when you’re done, you get to pamper yourself by moisturising and putting on comfortable pjs. It isn’t often that you get to wear some of your own clothes from before you were here, so it’s always nice when you get the chance to.

It’s also a bonus that you packed a matching set, ironically, it’s blue – you wonder if Bi-Han will notice or care. It’s very cute that his favourite colour is blue, something that you think, yeah is obvious but you didn’t know if he wore blue because of the Lin Kuei, his aesthetic, or if he liked it. Having him answer questions has given you some clarity and insight into him as a person and you feel so giddy about it.

You fiddle around your room, tidying away some of your belongings. Cleaning up the small messes that have been built up over the course of a few days. You’re stuffing around with some trinkets when there’s a knock on the door, it startles you and you fumble with the small jewellery box you’re holding, it falls onto the ground in front of the dresser.

You answer who you assume is Bi-Han first, “Come in,” you call out before ducking down to the ground.

On your hands and knees, picking up some of the jewellery that had scattered on the floor, you notice an earring slipped under the dresser and you arch your back, bending down further to reach under and get it, as your face gets closer to the ground to look, you realise a ring has slipped under further than the earring.

You can hear the door slip open and closed from behind you, “Are you kidding me?” Bi-Han groans out from behind you.

You hum in question at him, grasping the earring and then attempting to get a hold of the ring, it’s just barely out of reach.

Bi-Han comes closer, standing directly behind you, watching you struggle to reach the ring, “Great view,” he comments.

Ignoring him, you arch forward a tiny bit more and he whistles at you from behind, you roll your eyes at him and then your annoyance is replaced with a feeling of victory as you finally get the bloody thing out from under the dresser.

Sitting back up you lean on your knees, holding the two small pieces of jewellery up in triumph, you pack all of the spilt trinkets back into their box and stand up, placing it back on the dresser.

As you turn around, you’re met with the sight of Bi-Han in his night robe, his hair down, he seemingly has also just showered. Not to be overly dramatic but, you might die just from looking at him.

“Hello,” you say sweetly, enamoured by the sight of him.

He shakes his head at you, “Get everything from under there? Or is there more?”

“That was all of it,” you tell him.

He hums in disapproval, “That’s a shame.”

“How was the debriefing?” You ask, curious.

His expression turns annoyed, “Mmm, it was fine, rather not have gone, it was a waste of my time.”

“You think everything is a waste of time,” you jab.

He quips back, “Not true, you aren’t a waste of my time.”

“Flatterer.”

His expression turns mischievous, “And where will flattery get me?”

“Everywhere,” you give him an innocent smile, it doesn’t match the implications of your statement.

Moving closer to you, he grabs your hips, admiring the blue pyjamas you’re wearing, “You look good in blue, should wear it more.”

“I don’t own much blue,” you comment.

He shakes his head, “We’ll have to change that.”

Reaching up your wrap your arms around his neck, you want to kiss him but he’s out of reach and you’re stretched as far as you can go. He’s purposefully not leaning down, staying out of reach. It makes you pout at him.

“What? What’s wrong now?” He asks you, playing dumb.

“Will you kiss me, please?”

His head tips to the side, pretending to have to think about it, “Mmm, okay, since you asked all pretty like.”

He leans down and kisses you, effortlessly picking you up as he does. With his hold on your hips, he carries you over to the bed. When he reaches it, he turns around, so his back is facing it, he leans down and places your feet back on the floor. He continues to kiss you, it’s filthy, his tongue in your mouth, licking at you, his teeth nibbling at your lips. You gasp against his mouth as his hands come around and grope at your ass cheeks, holding handfuls of it.

Pulling back, he whispers against your lips, “I haven’t forgotten, you’re sitting on my face, sweetie.”

Your insides twist at his statement, you’ve never sat on anyone’s face before, you’re a little nervous about it. You want to protest but his hand slips inside your shorts to grip your bare ass, and he realises.

“No panties?” He asks.

You hum, “I didn’t ah, think they would be necessary?”

“Should’ve just been completely naked and waiting for me then,” he remarks.

“Thought you might like the blue.”

He groans in response, “and I do, but I’d like it better on the floor.”

He pulls his hair back into a bun as he speaks. The small act of him tying his hair back makes your desire for him grow.

Once he’s tied his hair back, he’s harshly tugging your shorts down, they slip down your legs effortlessly with the force he pulls them down with. You don’t get time to react properly, because he’s picking you up and chucking you down on the bed. A breath is pulled from your chest as you land on it, Bi-Han is crawling over top of you, he presses a tender kiss to your lips and then he’s manhandling you again. Rolling onto his back and pulling you on top of him as he does.

You’re straddling him in this position and he’s flat on his back. You understand now, he tied his hair back, so your knees don’t pull on it. You’re apprehensive, making no moves forward, much to Bi-Han’s dismay.

He grabs your thighs and tugs you all the way to his face, “Bi-Han – wait!”

A deep groan of protest is pulled from his chest, but he stops moving you, your cunt sitting so close to his face but not close enough for him reach, also to his dismay.

He has to put in a lot of effort to tear his gaze away from your wet pussy, “What’s wrong?” He huffs.

“I’ve never done this before,” you feel timid at your admission.

“Mhmm, thas fine, I’ll take care of you, just sit on my face and let me tongue fuck you. It’ll be good, promise.”

His words serve to set your face on fire rather than any comfort he may have meant them as. But his hands slowly stroke your thighs in a comforting manner, trying to get you to relax for him.

“’Kay, Mm ready,” you mumble out.

“’Atta girl,” He taps your thighs, letting you move this time.

Gently, you travel the rest of the way forward, your cunt right above his mouth, he doesn’t take his eyes off you. Appreciating the view, it makes you bashful, the way his gaze devours you whole, eyes filled with lust.

“Sit down,” he guides.

You lower yourself slightly, not sitting on him, scared to suffocate him. He let out a sound of disapproval, “Sit. All the way down.”

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” you protest.

“Trust me this is gonna do the opposite of that.”

You go to argue with him, “but–”

He lightly slaps your thigh at your objections, “–When I say sit on my face, I mean fucking sit on it.” He growls out at you.

You still have your reservations, but you sit down on him, it still isn’t your full weight, but your pussy is right on his waiting mouth. The feeling has a small sigh coming from your lips.

Bi-Han is growing impatient under you, and he rumbles into your cunt, he’s sick of going at your pace now. His hands wrapped around your thighs grab on and tug you down, a cry of protest is pulled from your lips but he’s stronger than you and he’s pulled you into a full sitting position on his face.

His tongue laps at you, the unfamiliar feeling has you shooting forward, hands grabbing at the headboard. Bi-Han moans out from under you, the taste of you, how wet you are, the smell of you, all adding to his own arousal.

He keeps licking at you, tongue entering your pussy hole, fucking up into you, his nose rubbing against your clit. The pleasure has you seeing stars, moans falling from your lips, ones that you aren’t particularly focused on right now. Too involved in the way Bi-Han is eating your cunt to remember to be quiet.

His hands move you back and forth, encouraging you to ride his face. Your thighs shake but you get the hang of it, starting to slowly grind back and forth on his face. The breaths coming from you are stuttered, catching on the moans and whimpers you’re letting out.

It’s loud and messy, the way Bi-Han eats you out, obscene slurping noises filling the room, your slick all over his face and between your thighs. As your hips gain more confidence, Bi-Han slips his tongue from your hole, flattening it against your cunt, letting you glide across it.

The new feeling has a particularly loud whimper pulling from your chest, he groans at the sounds your making, both your moans and the sound of your very wet cunt. This was all he could think about on the mission, and it was very distracting.

His hands stay on your thighs, helping your rock against his face and tongue. Your own hands grip the headboard tighter, your grinding speeding up, chasing your high that is right there.

Bi-Han groans into your cunt, loving the way you’re desperately humping his face. If you had any thoughts other than how good the pleasure feels, you’d be so embarrassed over how desperately you’re chasing your high. Using this beautiful man’s face to get yourself off.

His hands grab at your ass, spreading you cheeks and playing with the globes of your ass. Your moans increase in pitch and frequency, so fucking close, you just keep rutting against his tongue and nose. And when he hums and groans into your pussy again, you keel over, the force of the orgasm unexpected, a short cry pulled from your lips at the feeling.

Bi-Han encourages your grinding as you come down, licking up everything you gave him, the lewd slurping noises not stopping as he sucks at your cum. Eventually, you pull away, it has to be you that pulls away because Bi-Han would stay between your legs until the Earth imploded.

Shuffling back down his body, you sit on his lap, and he sits up, making sure you stay exactly where you are as he rests his back against the headboard, where you were just gripping. If you weren’t both so consumed by each other, you’d probably notice the light scratches your nails left in the wood.

Bi-Han has the most proud smile on his face, “perfect little cunt, always so sloppy and wet for me, could die between your legs and would die a happy man.”

You’re still a little fucked out from the orgasm he gave you, “Always say the most lewd things, Bi-Han.”

“Sue me for loving my girls pretty cunt.” He shrugs at you.

You crawl closer to him and press your chest to his, laying your head on his shoulder, “Thank you.”

He chortles at your comment, “For what?”

“Mm, good orgasm.”

“The day I don’t give you a good orgasm, kill me.” He says in the most serious tone.

You chuckle at him, he’s so silly, “Could never kill you.” You mumble against his skin, “Like you too much.”

He hums at your words, “Don’t tell me you’re already all fucked out?”

You shake your head, “Gimmie like 3 minutes.”

He huffs out an amused breath, but cradles you to him, hands stroking your back. As his hands move up and down your back, he decides he wants your top off and so he pulls it off. You let him, lifting your arms to make it easier for him.

Before you lay back against his chest, you pull his robe open to expose his chest, craving the skin-to-skin contact. You don’t notice but he’s watching you with so much affection, finding your movements adorable.

His hands hold onto your hips, giving you time to regather your faculties, but he’s growing impatient, as per usual. His hips rise slowly, mostly on their own accord, searching for your cunt. When he grinds up into you, his dick twitches in response, a groan pulling from him.

“Can’t wait any longer,” he declares.

He pulls your hips down to meet his, grinding your naked pussy into his dick, barely covered by his robe. Pulling away slightly, you untie his robe and open it properly, his cock pulsing and waiting for you.

Which you do make a comment about, “So needy, Bi-Han.”

“Don’t be a tease,” he grunts, not enjoying the switch in dynamic.

You hum out to him. Grabbing his cock, you leisurely pump it, giving him stimulation but nowhere near enough for his liking. His hand wraps around your own, tightening your grip under his, and he starts fucking into both your hands. His head tipping back against the headboard, groans and grunts slipping from his lips.

The sight is something to behold, your pussy drooling at the image of him fucking into your hand, head rolling back from the pleasure.

“Mmm, so pretty Bi-Han,” you comment, his cock jumping at the compliment, you smile to yourself at his reaction.

“Need your – ngh – creamy little – cu – nt – hah.” Words broken up by his gasps of pleasure.

You move your pussy right over his cock, his hand pulls away from yours in favour of gripping your hips, trying to hurry you along.

Your grip lets go of his dick, “Bi-Han, lemme do this,” you huff.

“Alright, jus – hurry up,” he groans.

Slipping the head inside is a whole ordeal, not having been fucked by him in a few days, you have to open yourself on his cock all over again. Moving down until you’re just taking the tip, Bi-Han sighs at the minute relief.

Your hole flutters on the tip of his cock, Bi-Han chokes at the feeling, “Ffffucken hell,” he grinds out.

You pull off him completely, before sliding back down and taking more of him. Bi-Han is biting his lip and clenching his hands into fists beside him, trying so hard to just let you do this at your own pace.

And you do take your own pace, pulling off him again but not sliding back down him, instead you lean down and spit onto the head of his dick, Bi-Han’s eyes watching you very intently. Groaning loudly when you grip him with your hand and stroke your spit up and down his length.

His cock wasn’t wet enough for you, but it is now, you reposition yourself and fuck yourself down onto him, nearly halfway. Your cunt spasming around his dick is like a gut punch to him, his self-restraint being tested in a very cruel way tonight.

Pulling up slightly, you keep him inside you, fucking yourself up and down on half of his cock, whimpers being ripped from your mouth at the way he fills you. Bi-Han has to tear his gaze away from where your pretty little cunt is sucking him in, afraid he’ll cum now, before he’s all the way inside. Not a fear he used to have but the way you grip him is so heavenly, he thinks he remembers, but then the next time he’s inside you it’s brand new again.

“Bi-Han, can you help please?” You ask, needing help getting to the hilt of him.

“Gods, fucken finally,” his voice is strained.

His hands hold onto your hips, picking your body up and down, helping you fuck down onto his cock. The way he manhandles you like a doll makes you dizzy. His grunts low in pitch as he fucks up into you, pulling you down at the same time. He’s still holding back, being as gentle as his resolve is allowing, not wanting to hurt you.

With Bi-Han’s help you take him completely, you’re sitting in his lap, taking his big cock, full to the brim of him. You slap his hands off your hips, wanting to do this yourself. He pulls his hands back, looking forward to you attempting to fuck yourself on his massive cock without his help, he knows, just like earlier, you will ask for help. Even if you have a very cute and determined look on your face right now.

Bi-Han’s hips twitch under you involuntarily, he’s needy, needs you to move, “C’mon sweetie, need yo – hah – u to move.”

“’ve never ridden someone before, gimmie a sec.”

A groan is ripped from his chest at your confession, his dick twitches inside you, loving the idea of being the first man you ride, his possessive streak making a return.

“Mm the first man you’ll ride, and I’ll be the – hah – fucken last too,” he says, grabbing your face in one hand, making you look at him.

His face makes your pussy clench around him, his eyes so needy, so possessive. The feel of your cunt makes him groan out. Hesitantly, you lift your hips upwards, leaving just the tip inside you before dropping back down all at once. It rips a moan from both you and Bi-Han, you almost go cross eyed, not expecting it to feel like that. He feels so much deeper than the other times, you feel so much fuller. Your cunt leaks around him an obscene amount, making a mess of his lap.

The absolute filth of the display makes you lightheaded, your eyes wet from pleasure and all you’ve mostly done is sit on it. Bi-Han’s ego grows tenfold at the sight of you, he’s going to make a smart-ass comment, but you lift all the way up again before dropping all at once. His moan is needy, so is yours.

You whimper as you keep that pace, slowly pulling up, leaving just the tip inside before dropping on him all at once, punching a moan out of him every time you do. All you’re really doing is working the both of you up, but you want to see if he’ll break, and he’s waiting for you to ask for his help.

Bi-Han is using every fibre of his being to hold onto his control, loving the way your face contorts as you spear yourself open on his cock. Loving your big wet eyes, you almost look like you’ll cry and it’s driving him feral.

His eye contact is so intense, you go to look away from him, but he tuts, “Ah, keep looking at me sweet girl, wanna see the moment – hah – you start crying from how good my cock fills you.”

You look back into his eyes, overwhelmed by everything. You stop your previous rhythm and instead hold him still inside you, clenching down on him. You can’t keep up that other pace, so you hold him inside you, and grind down into his pelvis, the contact on your clit has you gasping and fluttering around him.

Bi-Han’s head rolls back at the feeling, eyes going with it, his hips grinding up into your cunt. The sight of him alone has you deciding to cave, you don’t care anymore.

“Bi-Han, please… help.”

“Thank the – hah – ffffucken Gods!” He exclaims, gripping your hips tightly.

He plants his feet on the mattress and then he’s simultaneously pulling you up and down his cock and fucking it up into you. You actually do start crying from the pleasure, finally getting a consistent feeling of him moving inside you has you going brain dead. Eyes glazing over, still open but not seeing.

The image of your face switching into a fucked dumb expression and tears falling from your eyes brings Bi-Han immense satisfaction and pleasure, nearly blowing his load at the look on your face alone. The whimpers and whines coming from you not helping either.

Your nails scratch at his bare chest, your pleasured noises coming consistently, you don’t think you could speak even if you tried so you don’t even bother trying. Just let yourself get fucked down onto his big dick.

You’re cumming first, and you’re cumming hard. Pussy squeezing Bi-Han so tightly his pace slows, his need doesn’t though, he keeps fucking you through it.

He encourages you, praising you, “Look so fucken – hah – pretty cumming on my cock, Fffuck look at you – ngh.”

His thrusts neither slow down nor stop, he’s still fucking you like there’s no tomorrow, his cock aching with need, twitching violently inside you, his own thighs spasming slightly.

“Bi-Han you’re so – mmm – beautiful when you’re – hah – close, wanna put you – fffgh – in my mouth,” you tell him, making mindless horny comments as he gets closer to his own high.

“Oh – FFFFUCK!” He cums with a shout, it's sudden and catches him off guard.

Your mention of wanting to suck his dick arousing him to the point of orgasm, he grasps your hips and pulls you down, grinding you into his pelvis as he fills you with all his hot, sticky cum. The feeling of him filling you up making your cunt twitch around him, your thighs shaking.

He looked so good as he came, skin glistening with sweat, abs clenching as he twitched, his own thighs shuddering with his orgasm.

“You look really hot when you cum,” you inform him.

His dick jerks inside you at the compliment, “You look hotter.”

You lightly grind your hips down more, overstimulating him slightly, his response is a needy whine, his hands stop you from moving, “Gonna have to give me a second if you wanna go again.”

Moving forwards, you press your chest to his, skin to skin contact making your heart soar.

Humming you say, “Jus wanna keep you inside me.”

“Fucken – I truly think you’re trying to kill me sometimes.” He complains, though not really, he enjoys the things you say to him.

You press a kiss against his neck before you decide to give him a hickey, sucking into the pulse point on his neck, nipping at it as you pull away. Bi-Han doesn’t say anything and so you add another, to the front of his throat, and then one on his collar bone, and the other side of his neck. You keep sucking marks into his neck, chest, anywhere you can reach, when you’re finished, you lick up the length of his neck and take his lips in your own.

The kiss tastes like his skin and your cunt, he grabs the back of your head and shoves his tongue into your mouth. His kiss is fervent, filled with need and lust, you moan into it and his cock twitches to life inside you.

He grinds his hips up into you, but you refuse to move, keeping him still inside you, keeping yourself busy with his lips. He pulls you away with the grip he has on the back of your head, pulling you by the hair. You huff out at the loss of his lips.

“Now look what you’ve fucken done,” he says, referring to his painfully hard dick pushing up against your cervix.

You feel like you might melt around his cock, pussy creaming around him. You look him in the eyes, giving him an innocent smile but he knows better.

He pulls you off him, ignoring your whines of protest, and lays you on the bed, flat on your stomach. His hands spread your ass cheeks, looking at his own cum spilling out of your pussy hole. He groans at the sight, never not enjoying the image of you filled with his cum.

Grabbing one of your pillows, he lifts your hips and slides it under them, elevating your lower half slightly. He removes his robe completely, chucking it to the floor. Leaning down, he lays over your back, skin to skin, he enters you from behind in this position.

Fucking into you slowly, fucking his cum back into you. Your whines and sighs soft, enjoying the tempo he’s set. It feels intimate, his hands travel to your own, interlocking your fingers as he leisurely fucks into you from behind. Quiet groans and grunts falling from his lips at the feel of your slippery cunt. His cum is leaking back out of you onto the sheets.

His cock drags in and out of you at a slow pace, one that is pleasurable but as you get needier, you crave him harder, deeper.

Your need evident in your drooling cunt, lower halves getting slicker as time slips by, “More, please – hah – Bi-Han.”

“No, take it like this, greedy little thing,” he groans out from above you.

It feels like he fucks you like that forever, so close to the edge but never tipping you over it, his hands eventually travel back to your hips, he pulls your knees up so you’re resting on them and not your stomach. His pace picking up at the change in position, unleashing a punishing pace.

Skin slapping skin filling the room, along with the absolutely lewd, wet squelching sounds of your pussy. Getting fucked so well on him, fucking you back on himself, moving you how he pleases. Your face is pushed into the mattress and you’re dribbling against the linen, tears streaming down your cheeks again, the overstimulation almost too much.

Bi-Han is grunting and groaning above you, the most feral noises coming from him, you realise in this moment what he’s attempting to do right now, and you go to crawl away from him, not wanting to make an even bigger mess.

He growls out at you in disapproval, “You’re going nowhere – hah – sweet girl, gonna have you squirting on me again, ffffuck–”

“Mhmm, too messy,” you shake your head against the bed.

“You’re always messy, sweetie, got the creamiest ffffucken – ngh – cunt.” His words make your cunt spasm around him, “Ah, getting so fucken close aren’t you?” He observes.

You shake your head at him again but one of his hands comes around to your front and he lands controlled slaps to your clit, making your cunt spasm around him even more. One particularly firm slap to your clit has you cumming with a shout, the pleasure too much, making you tingly all over.

Bi-Han is ecstatic at the view of you squirting on his cock, it pulls his own orgasm from him almost as soon as it happens, he fucks you both through it, gritting his teeth against the force of his orgasm. Shouting expletives and your name in the same sentence, his own orgasm overwhelming him. He ends up freezing a portion of the beds sheets with his momentary loss of control.

You’re puffing against the bed, on the verge of passing out from your insane orgasm. Bi-Han pulls out of you slowly, careful with you as he separates from you. His eyes lock onto your cunt and the way it's spasming from your orgasm, pushing his cum out as it does.

He's mesmerised by it for a moment, using all of his remaining self control to not lean down and lick you clean with his tongue.

“You okay, sweet girl?” Bi-Han checks in on you when he catches his breath.

You nod your head, eyes closed, “Mhmm, might pass out.” You puff out.

He chuckles at you, enjoying the tear streaks staining your cheeks, and the absolute fucked out look on your face.

He tucks your hair out of your face and leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He leaves and comes back with a wet cloth, wiping up the mess between your legs. You’re mostly out of it but when you come back to, he’s redressed you in your blue pyjama set, he’s also back in his robe.

He’s lying beside you in the bed, carefully watching your face.

“Did I actually pass out?” you ask.

“Yes, was a little worried about you actually.”

You smile at him, “Cute.”

He rolls his eyes and pulls you into him, both of you on your sides facing each other, embracing. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“You’re changing the sheets this time,” he comments.

“Wrong,” you say.

He groans, “What’s in it for me if I change the sheets again?”

“I’ll give you head.”

He’s all too happy with that deal, “Done.”

❆˖°

Part five

A/N: Thank you so much for reading the whole thing! This update for some reason ended up being so long which is funny because I didn’t think myself capable of writing something this long when I first started writing, like 5k was a feat for me and now I’ve just dropped a 16k fic. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy it as much as the first three chapters!!! If you have any thoughts, feelings, questions, observations about the chapter, anything, feel free to message me! Requests are open and like usual after an update I will be working through a few of those before the next part <333

#subzero x reader smut #bi han x reader smut #bi han x reader #smut #mk1 smut #mk1 2023 #fanfic #bi han x you #subzero #subzero x you #subzero smut #bi han smut

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𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎'𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 steve hasn't seen eddie for ages, so him and his wife have eddie over for dinner. what happens when eddie's feelings for steve resurface, and he develops new feelings for steve's pretty little wife? 2k words 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 steddie x reader, wife reader, steddie kiss, slight dom reader, reader watches steve and eddie kiss, alcohol consumption, eddie is confused and feels guilty about his feelings 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 bc i am steve's pretty little wife. if this does okay i will write part two!

Your cheeks felt positively rosey as you leaned over the steaming pan, stirring with your elbow gracefully poised to your side. You were on your third glass of chablis of the evening, and things were going swimmingly. 

So you thought. But yours and Steve’s guest, Eddie, was sitting at the granite countertop absolutely mortified. He had a crush on his best friend's wife. And his best friend. Eddie had a crush on his best friend and his wife. 

Steve had told you that morning an old friend would be joining the two of you for dinner, and while you were a little bit mad about the late notice, you were excited nonetheless. You had planned a nice menu, only the best for a friend of Steve’s. You were lucky Steve had sprung this on you on a Saturday while the farmers’ market was still open. 

When Eddie first arrived you had flung open the door in a frenzy before he could even ring the bell after you heard his van sputtering in the drive. You greeted him and introduced yourself with a warm smile and an excited chime of his name, pulling him in close with a hug. His cheeks flushed as he felt your chest pressed into his own and the heat of your breath tickling his neck. You smelled like Steve and something else, something floral and musky. You smelled a little bit like sex, if he was being honest. 

And Eddie was right in his suspicions, you could probably still smell your cunt on Steve’s dick. Though your overly sweet smile nearly convinced him the opposite was true.

You stepped away from him, motioning him inside the foyer. “There are hor d'oeuvres just there in the living room and Steve will be down in just a minute.”

“Whore’s what now?” Eddie asked, truly confounded by the words that had just left your mouth. Eddie wasn’t stupid by any means, you knew that from Steve's stories, but you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in your throat. 

“Just like, uhm, appetizers.” You smiled again, and Eddie swore he felt his heart swell. “I’ll be in the kitchen finishing up dinner, if you need me.”

Eddie was polite, trailing into the living room and grazing over everything you’d set out. He popped something, he wasn’t really sure what, into his mouth and outright moaned, immediately stacking four more onto his palm and nearly tripping over himself on his way into the kitchen. 

“These are—mmmph! So good. What is it?” You craned your neck around to see what he was talking about while Eddie slid onto a barstool at the counter.

“Chive blinis with crème fraiche and caviar.”

“I’ve never had caviar.” Eddie marveled at the little cluster of greenish-grey eggs resting atop the little pancake. 

“I hadn’t either until I met Steve,” you replied, turning your attention back to the stove. “I thought it was silly, to spend so much money on fish eggs of all things.”

Eddie was glad you didn’t make him feel stupid, or lesser, but he wasn’t naive. Yours and Steve’s life was something Eddie never had known and never would. He looked around your fancy home, at your perfectly manicured nails and the fancy knife in your hand and he couldn’t help the twinge in his chest. 

“Oh god!” You pulled Eddie from his trance with your apologetic yelp. “I completely forgot to ask if you wanted a drink!”

Eddie was about to answer when Steve waltzed into the kitchen. “What did I miss?” His voice boomed as he clapped Eddie on the back. 

“I was just neglecting our poor Eddie here,” you frowned, quickly giving Steve a quick peck on the lips and resting your hand on his chest after he rounded the corner. Eddie noticed your wedding ring, but it wasn’t nearly as flashy as he’d expect from Steve. 

When he realized you were still looking at him expectantly his palms started sweating and he stuttered. “Uh—uhm, do you have—” You just nodded as he tried to answer, but Steve cut him off. 

“A PBR, for old times sake?” Eddie mumbled an affirmative, still slightly in awe of what a handsome pair the two of you made.

Steve slipped out into the garage to grab two beers, leaving Eddie to stare at you once again. His eyes met the gold clasp that sat below your hair on your neck and the little hairs that reflected in the low light of the kitchen as you cooked. He was mesmerized, his palm smushed into his cheek and elbow resting on the cool countertop. He just couldn’t believe how nice you were, in every way. 

Steve had warned him that you’d be as welcoming and kind as could be, but Eddie wasn’t expecting all this. The house was as sparkling as it could be, there were candles lit, and you’d folded the throw blankets so pristinely. And you. You were dressed to the nines in a pretty black dress with an open back, he could trace the curve of your spine nearly all the way to the tips of little dimples that poked out just above the hemline. 

This was bad. You were his best friend's wife, and there he was ogling at you while he could. And Steve, well, Eddie had always loved Steve in any way Steve would let him. Seeing him tonight Eddie felt no different. 

Steve was soon stealing Eddie away from the kitchen, rushing him off to show him the house in its entirety. Realistically, you knew Steve would just be showing Eddie his new Nintendo 64. 

You were right, within minutes you could hear them yelling at each other over who got to play as Mario. You didn’t mind, you were happy to finish up dinner while they caught up. It had been quite a while since their last reunion, considering you and Steve had moved to Indianapolis after getting married. 

“I can’t believe you’re married.” Eddie said, pushing down the little shards of jealousy that scraped his stomach. 

“Yeah,” Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“She’s—she’s—”

“I know.” Steve finished. 

Beautiful. Sweet. Kind. 

“How did an asshole like you land that?”

“Got lucky I guess. She was interning at the firm doing some clerical work, and for some reason she liked me back.” He shrugged. 

“You know, Eddie. I-”

Steve paused.

“-I don’t regret anything we did.”

Eddie looked as pretty as ever, hair still long, only he had a good bit of stubble all over his cheeks and jaw. His lean torso was sunken into the plush couch in Steve’s ‘man-cave.’ Steve felt dizzy.

He knew you weren’t stupid. The moment he told you about tonight’s company, you could see it clear as day on his face. 

“Steveee,” you questioned later, the knowing lilt to your voice enough to make him blush. 

“He was just a friend, baby, promise.”

“Really? A friend that you maybe hugged a little too long sometimes? Maybe one that you kissed every once in a while?” You were inches from his face. “Maybe fucked from time to time?”

Steve shuddered as your lips brushed his ear. 

“Tell me, Stevie. Did he fuck you, or did you fuck him.”

You positively grinned when Steve’s breath hitched in his throat. 

“Both.” He whispered.

“What I wouldn’t give to see my Stevie on his hands and knees, taking cock. Is it big, Steve. Does Eddie have a big cock?”

Steve didn’t answer, only smashed his lips onto yours. He could feel your smirk on his mouth and it only made his dick swell even more. You rode him fast and hard then and there, his fingers digging uselessly into your hips as you moved. Steve was a puddle of whimpers beneath you as he came, pulling you down so you could feel every drop of cum filling you.

You quickly hopped off of him, telling him you were off to get ready. Steve lied there for at least an hour replaying what had just happened in his head. 

“I’ll be downstairs.” 

Steve got hard all over again after seeing your attire, throwing his head back against his pillow with an annoyed groan. 

“Steve, you don’t have to say anything. I get it, people grow up, they move on.” 

“No,” Steve shook his head, “No, that’s not—”

“So you haven’t moved on?”

Steve scooted towards Eddie, completely abandoning his controller, opting to place his hand on Eddie’s thigh. “You just don’t understand.” 

It was all so much for Steve, what you’d said to him that afternoon and seeing Eddie again, he just couldn’t help it. He leaned in and kissed Eddie, his lips feeling just as they did all those years ago. 

Eddie stood abruptly, heading straight for the door. “Okay, well. I’ll see you.” His steps were stiff as he descended the staircase, trying to regain his composure before he had to face you. 

Because in Eddie’s eyes, he’d just ruined your marriage. He’d never see that pretty smile of yours and neither would Steve. 

Dinner was… dinner was tense. You watched closely as they shifted in their seats. You sipped chablis number four with one arm across your chest. 

You had a pretty good feeling you knew what happened, but they didn’t need to know that. You cleared your throat, swirling your glass with a raised eyebrow. 

“So, did you boys have fun up there?” 

Eddie nearly choked on his pasta, and Steve’s eyes went wide. 

“The game?” You clarified. 

“Oh, yeah, uhm, yes.” Steve stammered awkwardly, opting to poke at his plate rather than meet your eyes. 

You were getting a little tired of the stale conversation, or lack thereof, really. 

“Steve, Eddie,” you glanced at them respectively. “Do me a favor and level with me. What happened, hm?” You hummed the last part.

“Steve—”

“I kissed Eddie.”

You were more than a little tipsy, and a little tease couldn’t hurt, right. You put on your best hurt face, standing quickly, the table rattling as you did. You approached Eddie’s chair and looked down at him as he braced for screams, maybe even a slap. He certainly wasn’t expecting you to lean down over his shoulder, your boobs nearly spilling out of your dress, and speak softly into his ear. 

“Steve has you all flustered, huh? Is that what has you all quiet. I’ve heard plenty about you, Eddie Munson, and I think the last thing you are is quiet.”

When he didn’t respond, you kept going. “That’s okay, sweetheart. Stevie gets me flustered, too sometimes. Especially when he puts that pretty head of his between my legs. You know what that’s like, don’t you?”

Eddie glanced over at Steve as if he were a lifeline, but he was met with a slack jawed expression. So Eddie looked up at you, his eyes glossy as he breathed out an apology. 

“I am so sorry. I never meant to cause any problems. I should just go. Thank you for—”

“Eddie, I think you’re rather handsome. And I know my Steve feels the same. He fucked me just this afternoon thinking about you.”

“Steve?”

“It’s true,” he nodded, still weary, still not sure about Eddie felt about this whole thing. Steve didn’t quite understand how you even felt about this whole thing. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad. I just think it’s a little unfair that Steve here would hide it from me. I think I deserve to see what I missed.”

The two boys shared hesitant glances again, really not sure what your motive was. Despite the nerves, both of them were hard and squirming under your gaze. 

Slowly, they leaned into each other for the second time that night, lips meeting in a soft press. Steve’s shoulders drooped with relief, and Eddie’s pinched up as he leaned closer. He raised a shaky hand to find the familiar feel of Steve’s gelled hair and held on to it. Steve sighed through his nose, bringing his own hands to Eddie’s waist. 

You exhaled behind them as they got lost in each other, stretching your arms out towards the ceiling and yawning. 

“Well, I’m off to bed. Eddie, dear, you are perfectly welcome to stay the night.”

#steddie x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader

[carlisles-girl]

hi love! could i request caius from the volturi headcannons for a human mate??? please and ty

a/n: of course I can my love! It’s currently around 5 in the morning and I’m absolutely anxious beyond belief, hopefully this will take my mind off of things. Hope you enjoy <3

-

Caius Volturi With A Human Mate

-

When Caius found out he had a human for a mate, oh lord, he was angry.

Instead of angry, more so frustrated.

How was he going to control his thirst around you?

He had confounded in Aro, obviously upset with what the universe has granted him.

Aro simply said, “They will be turned as soon as possible, my brother. There will be no issues at all.”

Caius nodded, and went on to Marcus’ study.

If anyone knew what it was like to be with your true mate, it was Marcus.

Marcus aided Caius with open arms, and a rare, genuine smile.

“It will take time, yes, but it will all be worth it in the end. I can promise you that, brother.”

Caius often thought about how he could approach you in an appropriate manner.

He couldn’t possibly go to you and say,

“You are my mate. You are coming with me at once.”

He thought of being romantic with his advances, easier for him to win you over, even though you were already spiritually together.

Just not physically together.

He had followed you to your home, as creepy as that appears, and waited a few minutes before knocking on your door.

You opened the door and greeted Caius with a smile on your face, feeling strangely connected to this stunning man that stood before you.

“Good evening, I have seen you through town since we were young, I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me to an evening out?”

Obviously being prideful of his lie.

Who could say no to Caius?

You looped your arm with Caius’, noticing the cold feeling through his velvet suit.

“Are you cold?”

“Not at all.”

As you got to know Caius more, the more the curiosity had grown in your soul.

“You have more questions, I can tell.”

At this point in your evening together, it was dark out besides the moon and the street lights that lit up the area.

You two were crossing a bridge, where you decided to pause your walking. Caius paused with you, growing more attached to your scent as each moment passed.

“I don’t know how to put it into words. How have I grown so attached to, almost your soul, in just a matter of a few hours?”

Caius smiled, and looped your arm with his just as he has before.

“There’s some things that you might not understand.”

“What type of things?”

“Supernatural things, soulmate things, all the things.”

You had thoughts tracing every point of your brain. Could this man be your soulmate?

“Are we soulmates? I mean, it’d be a bit strange for you to bring up the idea of soulmates when we just met.”

“I think it’d be more easy for you to understand if I show you. May I?”

You gave him a warily look, but nodded nonetheless as he picked you up bridal style, and with what seemed like the speed of light, placed you down in front of castle doors.

“There’s definitely more about you that I don’t know.”

“Truthfully so. Follow me.”

You followed Caius into the castle, being greeted by a secretary who spoke of Italian.

“Are we in Italy?”

“We are.”

He opened the doors to a nice throne room where three thrones were placed.

A man with long, dark, wavy hair and a solemn expression looked up to you and Caius from where his eyes were originally.

Another man, the one who sat in the middle, got up from his throne and made his way towards you and Caius.

“Ah, this must be Y/n, yes?”

“It is, brother.”

“Wonderful! You and my brother, Caius, are a wonderful match. The universe did greatly.”

The man had reached his hand out, seemingly wanting to shake your hand in a greeting.

You took his hand, and looked at Caius, who nodded.

“I am Aro, leader of the Volturi. You have already met Caius, your mate, of course. And that is Marcus.”

You thought to yourself, what is the ‘Volturi’, and the secrets that lied within.

“As any sane human would, you wonder about what we are. You will be one of us one day, don’t you worry. It is getting rather late, isn’t it?”

You immediately thought of this as a cult, and looked at Caius with a worried expression, Aro still reading your thoughts with your hand in his.

“I can promise you, this is no cult. It is a place of power. You will learn more with your time here. Caius, however, will lead you to your room. It is late, after all.”

Aro bid his farewells, as he released your hand.

Marcus stood up from his own throne, thanking you for your time.

Caius took your hand as he took you up the many stairs of the Volturi castle.

“There’s nightclothes and clothes to your taste accordingly in the closet. There is a bathroom down the hall to your left. I’ll be back when you call me.”

After you had cleaned yourself up, and gotten dressed with something more appropriate for sleeping, you called Caius’ name.

“I told you.”

You were lying in bed already, as Caius stood before you.

“I wish you the best of dreams, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You aren’t going to stay with me?”

“Would you like me to?”

You nodded your head, to which he was at your side in an instant.

He pulled a chair beside you, as he told you stories of the past.

Famous wars, kings and queens, and his battle with the werewolves he nearly drove to extinction.

You would always fall asleep to his stories, no matter how gruesome they were.

You liked his voice.

A lot.

Whenever you would wake up, he would be there beside you.

“Goodmorning, mia amore.” (Translation: Goodmorning, my love.”)

As more time passed between you and Caius’ relationship, the more time you spent together.

Whether it be studying in the library, him reading to you by the fire, to him eventually laying next to you as you slept.

He would love to hear your dreams, if you remembered them.

Caius adores hearing you talk about your favourite things.

He keeps a mental note in his mind whenever he sees you talk about something you had in your old life, before the Volturi, wanting to buy it for you.

Endless gifts from him.

No matter how many times you tell him that he doesn’t need to get you anything, he persists.

“Mia amore, it is my duty to make sure you are satisfied here. I did steal you from your home, after all.”

Sitting on his lap in the throne room while a trial is taking place.

Corridor glances.

Him admiring your beauty as your face gets warmer with blood.

“You are irresistible.”

Your human life with him most likely wouldn’t last long, however.

The law that humans aren’t allowed to know of the existence of vampires reminds you nearly everyday.

“I’m practically illegal.”

“I like the danger.”

Whenever Caius and the other two kings absolutely have to be somewhere, there are long goodbyes between you both.

Aro and Marcus have never seen Caius be so loving to another. Let alone a human.

“Perhaps you have gone soft, brother?” - Aro

“That’s none of your business.”

When he comes back, Caius will not leave your side for days.

Making up for the time that was lost.

He is so in-love with you.

After spending centuries alone, he’s going to want to spend every moment he can with his mate.

Whenever there’s a trial, he sends you up to the tower where Sulpicia is, with one of the guards guarding the tower.

Sulpicia is basically your new best friend and a sister in one.

She teaches you all about the guard and their gifts, as well as the Cullens.

You being intrigued by each Cullen, ask Caius to invite them over.

If you can’t be friends with anymore humans, why not be friends with more vampires?

When they come over, it’s treated as some sort of ceremony.

Everyone is dressed up in suits and extravagant dresses, as blood is served in wine glasses.

You have red wine, obviously, not being able to have blood.

You made sure the Cullens had animal blood after learning of their vampire-vegetarianism.

The first to greet you is Esme and Carlisle.

“Good evening, Y/n, I am Carlisle Cullen, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” - Carlisle

“I am Esme, Carlisle’s wife. That outfit is absolutely beautiful, as are you.” - Esme

Next is Jasper and Alice.

Jasper looked rather frightened, more so than the rest of them.

“Jasper, right? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything is alright, I’m just new to the whole vegetarian diet that we’ve all established.”

“He’ll get used to it, sooner than expected.” - Alice

You, Jasper and Alice have a whole conversation about her and Jasper’s gifts. Much to Caius’s annoyance.

“It was lovely meeting you, your future looks amazing.”

You met the rest of them, and it was clear that Caius was growing bored of their presence.

“Caius? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing, I just wish I had more time alone with you.”

“You will, I just wanted to meet your old friends, that’s all.”

This man is the biggest cuddle bug you could ever imagine.

Not in-front of other people, though. He’d rather be caught dead then all sappy with someone.

You laugh about it, whenever Jane or Alec come to retrieve the both of you, usually of Aro’s demand, and they see Caius lying on your chest.

Caius will immediately get up and tell them to scatter, and that you both will be there in a moment.

“Why do you get embarrassed so easily?”

“I do not.”

Whenever you both have arguments, it’s absolute hell for everyone else.

Caius will project his anger onto small things.

If he accidentally flipped two pages instead of one while reading, he will throw the book across the room.

Aro will read his thoughts, seeing the argument you and Caius had a few hours prior.

“Why don’t you go talk to them, brother?”

“They’re giving me the silent treatment.”

Aro is basically you two’s couples therapist.

After the argument gets resolved, Aro will sit down with both of you, getting you both to express your emotions to each other.

He also just wants to know things.

Aro is definitely a gossip machine.

He would never tell you and Caius’ secrets to anyone though.

Only the funny parts.

Like the time you both fell down the stairs after ~you know what~.

You both were wearing clothes, of course, but you were sore enough that it had caused you to fall backwards, onto Caius.

Though, vampires being as strong as ever, Caius was caught off guard and you both went tumbling down the stairs.

You both were laughing, though. Caius giving you knowingly glances at you the day after.

No one knew what it was about until Aro told them.

You didn’t mind, but it was still slightly embarrassing.

Caius definitely likes to be called, “my king”, by you.

It makes him more prideful than he already was.

When he proposed to you, it was like heaven.

It was during winter, and you two were taking a stroll through the now snowy gardens.

You were wearing a fur cloak, dark brown fur with red fabric.

Think ‘Belle’ from Beauty and The Beast.

You were catching snowflakes in your hands as Caius watched, fiddling with the small black velvet box that was in his pocket.

When you turned around to look at him, he was kneeled down on one knee.

“Y/n, I know we’ve known each other for a little over a year now, but our souls have known each other for a million. When I first saw you, I knew you were the one. Despite our bantering about which movie, I believe you call it, to watch, we make an amazing team. You are the one for me, and we both know it. Will you do me the honour of marrying me?”

You said yes, obviously.

The wedding began planning almost immediately after.

It’s one of the things that Marcus was most excited for.

His brother getting married.

It’s all he wanted for him, to be happy. And Caius was very happy with you.

When you got married, it was absolutely beautiful.

When you walked down the isle, Caius smiled so very proudly.

Carlisle walked you down the isle, and handed you to Caius.

Aro officiated the wedding, as Marcus was Caius’ best man.

You were changed a month after your wedding and honeymoon.

#caius volturi #Caius twilight #twilight #twilight x reader #twilight preferences #Caius volturi headcanons #volturi #volturi kings #volturi preferences #caius x reader #caius volturi x reader #Caius volturi imagine #Caius volturi oneshot

[from-the-clouds]

Kiss Me More (Part II) - Zemo/Reader

Masterlist || Part One

Summary: Part two, read part one if you haven’t already! Sam & Bucky put reader in charge of looking after Zemo....again. Series loosely inspired by this song.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: Kissing, heavy petting, mentions of sex, minor TFATWS spoilers.

A/N: Wow! I was so shocked on the feedback I got on the first part of this story. It has nearly 800 notes. I’m not used to my writing getting that kind of attention so I really appreciate the love. I decided to make this into at least a 3-4 part series and there will be eventual smut, but I feel like there’s something sweet between these two that goes beyond an obvious physical attraction, so I do want to build that a bit before we get there. This weekend I rewatched TFATWS & Civil War because I’m officially obsessed with Zemo lol. Please let me know what you think, and let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist. :) 

-----

“Keep an eye on him.”

Y/N watched Bucky and Sam split off again. That was now at least the third time she’d heard that phrase since she arrived in Riga. Little did they know, she was probably the worst person to be put in charge of Zemo. Truthfully, it was starting to be a little insulting.

It was unclear why she’d been brought along on this mission, when half the time Sam and Bucky were talking in hushed tones just out of her earshot. There was always more to the story than they told her, but this time, it felt like she was more out of the loop than ever.

She adjusted the neckline of the sweater she wore out of an abundance of caution, checking subconsciously to make sure it hadn’t exposed the mark Zemo had left on her from the day before. It was a discovery she’d made that morning, and persisted despite her efforts to cover it up with makeup.

“According to those two, I must be the best at babysitting you,” she muttered under her breath. It was petty, so she wasn’t even sure if she wanted him to hear. But he did.

“Babysitting?” Zemo lifted an eyebrow. 

“You know, a nanny, a governess….whatever a Baron’s equivalent is,” she said, looking him in the eye for the first time that day, which was a mistake. He looked so handsome in that long, fur-lined coat, tall and refined, hair styled perfectly. There had to be warrants out for his arrest since escaping prison, and in his current getup, he was hard to miss. 

It wasn’t easy to ignore the stifling tension between them. The Baron hadn’t left her thoughts since she’d closed the door on him the evening before. Now they were alone again. She couldn’t decide if that was thrilling or terrifying, so she decided on both.

“It’s nice of them to give us some alone time,” Zemo stepped close to her, one gloved hand pressing between her shoulder blades. Despite the cool temperature outside, it was the first thing today that had her shivering. 

“Walk with me,” he commanded sternly. She saw no opportunity to refuse as they started in the direction opposite of where Bucky and Sam had disappeared. 

“Zemo-”

“Helmut,” he corrected her. “But go on…”

“We have to focus on figuring out where Donya’s funeral will be,” she said, feeling his hand slide down to settle on the small of her back, trying to inch away, but he just pulled her closer. “We can’t waste time.”

“I know Riga inside and out, that won’t be as difficult as you and your friends think,” he murmured. His proximity was already suffocating. Or maybe comforting. It was hard to tell. “Tell me, what is your business with them? You aren’t an Avenger. This was my first time hearing your name.”

She snorted, finally finding the strength to pull away, and he dropped his hand. That was one thing that had confounded her. He was confident, took liberties with what others would allow, but knew when to stop pushing. There was something alluring to his nature. 

“I’m not,” she responded, wondering how much she was willing to share. When she stole a glance out of the corner of her eyes, his head was lowered, leaning in, listening intently for her response. She wondered if he really cared, or if he was good at pretending. It was easy to believe that he did.

“Bucky and I aren’t that different,” she continued. “That’s why we’re friends. I’m not a super soldier, but I was taught how to fight, how to kill. I followed orders for too long without questioning whether or not I was doing the right thing. And at least now, I think I am.”

“You think,” he repeated, and corrected her again like he had the day before. As much as she wanted some kind of clever or quick quip back, she wore her heart on her sleeve for the moment and shrugged. There was nothing to defend when she still wasn’t sure what responsibilities she had in this world. 

Zemo halted, and she paused too, turning back to look at him. “So you were an assassin,” he murmured, reaching out. Nodding slightly, she lowered her eyes when his gloved thumb brushed across her face. The buttery, overpowering smell of leather took her over as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I would’ve never guessed. Du bist so süß.”

Her knowledge of German was limited, but she could see a flash of what looked like affection in his eyes. He couldn’t be lying, could he? She wondered. She wanted to trust that he wasn’t, wanted to identify every good part of him she could, so she could justify the overwhelming attraction she felt towards him. Something in her just kept pulling forward against her will, like a magnet.

“You’d be surprised,” she answered, but didn’t pull away. The intensity of his gaze made her feel weak, but there was something strangely reassuring in his eyes. It was just the two of them, standing on a crowded sidewalk.

She rose her hand to clasp around his, frowning when she felt the hard loop of a ring on one of his gloved fingers. It had gone unnoticed by her, until now. He still wore a wedding band. 

It would have been easy to vocalize the observation, gauge his reaction, try to regain some upper hand and remind him who exactly he was dealing with. But, it would’ve been pointlessly cruel, as she knew what that felt like to answer that question. Those days were behind her, now. 

As if the universe was scolding her, a loud car horn broke through the perceived silence. His hand dropped from her face, and they began to walk again. 

“I had lots of time to think in prison,” he said after a heady pause in conversation. “About the things I’d done. Whatever intentions you have, to someone, you’re always the enemy. What I thought was important, trying to serve the greater good, it isn’t always worth the trouble. I was trying to protect what I had already lost, the places and people I’d taken for granted.”

Deciphering his words, she took a moment before responding. “That’s actually...very insightful,” she said, partly surprised by what he’d shared, appreciating that he felt her vulnerability, and matched it in his response.

“I know you’re stunned I’m not a brute,” he answered, increasing his pace to a determined strut rather than a lazy stroll. She was forced to keep up with him. “You’ve been told what to think about me by Sam and Bucky.”

She scoffed. “Not just them. The entire world. All the people you’ve hur-”

He halted and turned to face her so quickly, she collided with his chest and her breath caught in her throat. 

“I’m not that man anymore,” his voice was nearly a growl, disgust laced in his features as he looked down at her. 

But as soon as she recognized it, he became expressionless again, backing away. Falling back into step beside him, they continued to walk, a bit faster than they had been before. She followed him, at this point convinced that she might get lost without his guidance, but a little startled by his sudden change in behavior.

“What do you think of Riga?” he asked her as they cut through an alleyway. His voice held none of the venom that it had a few moments ago, so she wondered if she’d just hit a sore nerve.

“It’s beautiful,” she answered, admiring the old brick buildings and fine architecture. “But I think I haven’t had much of a chance to appreciate it.”

“Have you been thinking about me?”

They ducked under an alcove, and she realized he’d carefully led her off the crowded streets. It was much quieter here. She suddenly didn’t feel as protected as she had been with him in the open. The temperature in the shaded space was much lower than expected. And he was standing over her, waiting for some response she didn’t know if she could give. 

“I haven’t forgotten about last night, liebling,” he continued. 

Of course she had been thinking of him. Nearly nonstop. What they’d shared, what it meant. She hadn’t been able to sleep until she relieved herself, fingers rubbing her clit and delving into her warmth, whimpering his name when she finally came. Still, it had done little to quell the ache inside her. 

It was a horrible thing, she’d decided. Objectively horrible, and unprofessional. There was the consideration of accessibility. What did he see in her beyond a means to an end? Was she really going to throw everything she’d worked for away to a man who was going to use her to scratch an itch?

Too much was at stake, Sam and Bucky’s trust, her reputation, her job, and she couldn’t allow it to go on. 

But oh, how much she wanted it to. 

“Yesterday was nice,” she straightened up, holding her own. “I won’t lie to you.”

The corner of his mouth tugged up slightly in a self-satisfied smirk. 

“But I’m not foolish,” she continued. “Coming on to the first woman you see after you get out of jail? Seems pretty convenient.”

At first, the Baron tilted his head to the side, his brows pulled together at her words. But after a moment, the smile returned, and he chuckled. “Is that what you think this is about?”

“Don’t insult me, Helmut,” she said sternly, trying her best not to feel embarrassed. She was only being honest.

“Are you always so severe to yourself?” he asked, tutting lightly. 

It would have been better to say nothing. Why give him anything at all? 

She didn’t answer his question, just backed away from him and began walking in no particular direction, wanting only to increase the space between them and regain her common sense. That was impossible however, as she was jolted backwards before she even knew what was happening, a firm hand on her upper arm, and she was chest to chest with Zemo once more. 

“We were in Madripoor together. I could’ve had my way with many women there if I wanted. But I didn’t.”

“Please-” she rolled her eyes.

“If all I wanted to do was fuck someone, I could have done it by now,” he stalked forward, the air pressure around them dropping, weighed by the tension hanging thick between them. “But that’s not what I want. I want you.”

His words, spoken in a soft, low purr rattled away every bit of resolve she had left in her. Some last ditch effort found her stepping backwards, but her body met the brick wall behind them and she realized he had her cornered. 

In more ways than one, she thought.

Taking in a shaky breath, she looked up at his eyes, clouded with lust. “I know you want me,” he said, not a shred of doubt in his voice. But why should there have been? He was right. 

Her eyes darted around, like someone or something around them was going to jump out and save her from herself. It didn’t go unnoticed. “There’s no need to be scared, liebling. I feel it, too.”

With that, he closed the gap between their lips. He tasted sweet, like the candies he’d been eating back at his flat. Turkish delight. She was drowning in him again, his scent, his touch, everything about him enveloped and beguiled her. Her shirt had bunched up slightly somewhere along their walk and his gloved hands explored the exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

She surrendered, letting him tease open her mouth and claim her wholly. It was still bad, she knew. But there wasn’t any last bit of self-control left in her. 

The layers of clothing between them didn’t allow for the same proximity she’d had to him the evening before. Groaning in delight and frustration, she reached up to tangle and rake her fingers through his hair, as his fingers curled around the top of her sweater, revealing the sensitive skin of her neck. 

“Don’t hide this,” his lips left hers as his eyes focused on the stamp of affection he’d left behind the day before. “Let them see.”

“You know I can’t,” she responded, sheepishly pulling it back into place. Studying her with amiable consideration, his hand rose to brush tenderly across her cheekbone. 

“I thought you’d come to me last night,” she confessed, drawing away slightly, shocked by her own admission. But right now, she didn’t feel the need to put up as much of a facade. He looked positively virile; panting, his cheeks flushed and hair mussed, pupils blown out as he focused on her. To know she was the cause of his current state of disarray gave her an immense amount of satisfaction. A buried, salacious part of her wondered what else she could do to make him look even more unkempt.

“I considered it,” he said, sounding almost timid. “But I want to do this right.” He leaned in, pressed a kiss beneath her ear. “In private, so no one can disturb us,” he continued, lips moving down her neck. “We can take our time, you can be as loud as you’d like.”

The mental image he was currently painting for her was doing very little to strengthen her convictions, whatever those had been. The thought of her legs wrapped around his torso, naked bodies pressed together sent a bolt of electricity through the pit of her stomach, radiating outwards. She wanted his lips on every inch of her skin. Aching at the possibility, the present tease of his teeth nibbling on her collarbone wasn’t helping.

“You know we can’t,” she didn’t try to stop the thought as it came out of her mouth.

“What is there to lose?”

Everything, she thought, but didn’t answer. She couldn’t really, as his gloved hand was trailing slowly under her jacket and sweater, against her bare skin, and cupping her breast through her bra. Whimpering, she couldn’t control the way her body arched against his.

Hooking her knee on his hip, she let him press forward, feeling the warmth of his excitement through his trousers and her jeans. He ground against her once, teasingly, and she moaned softly into his mouth. 

He was the one to pull away, and she was thankful he did. “Think about it, liebling,” he said softly, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. “Du hast die Kontrolle.”

“We can’t,” she answered again, but even she didn’t believe herself. Raking her hands through her hair and adjusting her rumpled sweater, she straightened up. “We have a job to do.”

Brushing past him out of the alcove, each step she took away from him gave her the self control she desperately needed. She glanced over her shoulder to see him reluctantly trudging behind. At this point, she wasn’t foolish. There were only two ways this could end.

----

Part III

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[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Athena

So. I have to deal with the virgin goddesses… By mythos, there really shouldn't ever be children of Artemis, Hestia, or Athena (yes, Athena was a virgin goddess). PJ got past that by making it canon that Annabeth and her siblings were born from cracking open Athena's skull (yes, that's also more or less the canon explanation). They gloss over it real quick but I remember, Rick. I've always remembered and that mental image has haunted me for years...

I can't, in good conscience, ignore the history around Athena's worship (call it an academic restraint) but I REFUSE to do the skull thing. So, since I make the rules here, I'm going with magic adoption. They still get magic powers, they're just more human than demigod. Cool? Cool.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena

Lucifer

The human that popped out of the portal seemed to have enough sense not to attack everyone in the room for a change, but even Lucifer could tell that was more of a strategic choice than for lack of ability...

Their very existence was highly unusual… and quite worrisome. He wasn't even aware Athena could have "children" of her own, but apparently she had been taking in some particularly bright humans to raise and train like her own...

Unbeknownst to him, a surprising amount of human scholars, diplomats, and generals have her to thank for their trade… and that alone should speak to the level of intrigue at play here. 

Was this an accident or Athena's attempt to plant an Olympian spy in the Devildom too…? Either way, he didn't trust them from the get go…

Look, Lucifer isn’t stupid. Athena is a goddess of Wisdom and War and war happens on more than just the battlefield… 

Since they've shown up records have been going missing, official documents keep getting misplaced, and he swears that there's some kind of bug in the student council room...!

It's infuriating watching the MC suck up to Diavolo when he's almost certain that they're running their own agenda behind the scenes! And he can't prove any of it!! They cover their tracks too well!

Lucifer has one of those corkboards covered in newspapers and string in a secret wing of the Castle - 100% dedicated to just tracking the MC's activities…. The longer they're there, the more obsessed he becomes...

He swears between Simeon, Solomon, and MC he feels like a shepherd wondering why the sheep are growling… The Devildom has never been in more danger than it is right now... Send help.

Mammon

To be honest, he kind of thought that they were just going to be Satan 2.0 but that's not really true.

They're more than just a book sponge! Though they do read, like a lot. Let’s just say from one schemer to another… Game recognizes Game.

They come up with plans and ideas soooo fast, it’s insane! Honestly, there are times where he has a new money-making plot and he just brings it to the MC first to run it over. 

Nine times out of ten, not only do they sniff out any problems but they have a solution for him in a matter of minutes! His scheme game has been on point since they’ve shown up!!

They’re also even better tutoring than Satan is, so he’s even managed to get a couple A’s for the first time in his life! Lucifer actually told him he was proud (which he secretly recorded and now uses as a ringtone much to his brother’s regret...)

So yeah, he likes them... buuut that doesn’t keep him from thinking they act a little weird sometimes... 

Mammon: *points to a unused tower close to the RAD building* Over there is the Tower of Sorrow. We use it for storage.

MC: Ah. Interesting… *starts writing in a notebook, muttering* It may need a few minor tweaks but the location is defensible...

Mammon: *stops* Ya say somethin’?

MC: *looks back up* Nope! Say, you’ve been to the Castle a lot haven’t you? Do you know any good ways in?

Mammon: Uhm… Why do ya want to know that…? *starts looking around for Lucifer*

MC: In case of emergencies. I like being prepared. 🙂

Mammon: Look, I don’t know what Lucifer might’a told ya…

MC: I’ll pay you a thousand Grimm for it.

Mammon: Well shit, ya want those maps with or without color?

... Yeeeah, that’s pretty weird… But it’s probably fine. I mean, as long as they keep giving him money, who’s he to complain? 🤷‍♀️

Leviathan

Also thought that they’d be a lot more like Satan but was pleasantly surprised that they were into more than books.

What else did they like exactly? Military strategy!!

It’s been a looong time since he’s been able to talk to someone who’s actually interested in all the battles he’s fought, both in the Celestial Realm and the Devildom, and their curiosity is kind of flattering...! Not a lot of people take his strategic prowess all that seriously anymore...

Plus, they are the BEST partner to have any turn-based strategy game. Hands down. He once got stuck on a level of D-COM for weeks until the MC walked in and mopped the floor with the AI!! They have a serious head for probability and tactics.

The House once made the mistake of letting these two be on the same team during a Hell Game and they absolutely demolished the competition. Mammon didn’t even get a single shot off before half his team was lost to a rigged paint grenade… It took a whole day to clean up… 

However, Levi’s also noticed some odd things about the human… He likes that they’re interested in his past but maybe they’re a little… too interested?

Levi: -and that’s how we defeated the Four Horsemen before they escaped from Purgatory. 

MC: Wow, Levi that’s seriously impressive!! *furiously scribbling on a notebook*

Levi: Well t-thanks… 😅 But, uhm... are you writing that down…?

MC: Hm? Oh no, just doodling. *they lift up the notebook to show a bunch of cute little sketches on the page… and not the magic-based invisible ink all over them…*

Levi: Oh you draw too? Can you do fanart???

MC: Eh, sometimes. But say Levi, can you tell me about your naval ranks again? I’m still really curious… *gets the pen ready again with a smile*

Satan

Oh, it's been a long game of cat-and-mouse between these two… and unfortunately, it’s been pretty addicting too.

He honestly had every intention of tricking the human into making a huge mess do he could bother Lucifer, but at every turn they proved just a hair too clever for him...

He once gave them a cursed book to “lend” to Lucifer, but they saw through it the moment they touched it and lifted the spell before handing it over.

He rigged a podium to spray glitter during one of Lucifer's speeches but the MC disconnected the trigger mic before he even got on stage. It was pretty dang frustrating...

At one point he got so desperate that, just as a test, he tried to trap them in the House's Music Room. Fortunately for them, it only took a few minutes to work out an escape. They even passed by him in the hallway with a wink!

It's confounding! It's infuriating!! 

...and it's so damn sexy... He should be furious but he’s just in awe!!

Add on that they know their art, literature, and multiple different crafts thanks to the tutelage of their adopted mother and that’s it. He’s finished. This boy is in love.

Truthfully though, a part of him is 90% sure that they’re also gathering state secrets… Like, they’re watching Barbs and Diavolo far too close for comfort - but he just can't bring himself to care. 🤷‍♀️

The MC could walk into his room one day and say, "Hey, do you want to help overthrow the monarchy with me?" and he dreads it because deep down he knows that he wouldn’t say no…

Take some notes, kids. Some bad influences get you to drink or do drugs. Others pull you into a centuries long conspiracy to destabilize and topple rival realms from within… But he has fallen for their brain hard. Devil help them all…

Asmodeus 

They’re pretty clever, he’ll give them that, but uh… Are they a little off to anybody else?

Asmo is a charmer by birthright so he has a bit of nose for when someone’s just a liiittttle too nice… Not much of a nose mind you, because he can be thrown off by compliments himself, but enough to think that the MC might be a little too… “kind” for their own good...

First off, who wants to spend that much time with Levi?? They don’t even seem that interested in anime! They just keeping asking him for old war stories…

Then all the sucking up they do to Diavolo and Barbatos? Look, he gets it. Diavolo is a delicious piece of man-hunk and his butler could give him a lesson or two in sweet-talk (and he has), but they seem to be just a little too… nosy.

Of course, Asmo’s suspicions disappear pretty quickly after they start to spoil him with spa nights and beauty secrets they picked up from “casual research” into the subject.

And you know, get a little Demonus in Asmo and start massaging his back? Oh, sweetie he’ll sing like a bird!! … with gossip. Singing with gossip.

Asmo: So I’ve heard that Lucifer has been spending more time at RAD than usual… His whole club is talking about it, they think he’s meeting with some witch!

MC: Hm, is that so? *works on a knot near his shoulder blades* What do you think?

Asmo: Ooh~! Right there, MC! *purrs and lays his head on his arms* Well come on, this is Lucifer we’re talking about! I’m sure he’s just working.

Asmo: Hmm... though come to think of it, I think I heard him asking Barbatos for the spare keys to the Tower of Sorrow…

MC: Oh really? Huh. *works out the knot and gets up* I just remembered that I left some papers with Satan... I’ll be right back.

Asmo: You’re going already??

MC: *waves him off quickly* I’ll be right back, Asmo. *hurries out the door to do totally on-the-up-and-up things… surely*

Beelzebub 

Honestly he doesn't like this one… But not for the reasons you'd expect.

He agrees with everyone else that they seem a little shady, but Solomon and Simeon are too so it's not like that's anything new... 🤷‍♀️

No, no. He dislikes them because they're the person who FINALLY figured out how to keep him from eating all the food in the kitchen!!

Turns out that the trick was to put a teleportation charm on the fridge door that would send all the food away if it’s opened after a certain time of night… 

And where does it go? The Purgatory Hall fridge. And where does the Purgatory Hall food go…? The HoL fridge…

It doesn’t sound so bad until you remember that it means half of their fridge is now Solomon’s leftovers…. 🤢

After they put the same kind of spell on the pantry, it was all over… He couldn't get midnight snacks from the House anymore… Everything was contaminated by Solomon…

The MC is a nice enough person, he doesn’t have a lot of complaints about them, but he wants them to leave. Now. This is inexcusable… He’s so hungry… and he doesn’t want to die by “goulash” or whatever Solomon calls his latest culinary catastrophe… He’s still too young for death… 😓

Belphegor 

In a way, he absolutely could not have asked for a better person to help him get out of that attic.

… In another way, he got one of the worst possible people to try and kill... Like. They saw through his scheme sooo fast…

How was he supposed to know that the human had training in body language and sniffing out lies???

Getting the door open was a piece of cake for them. They knew enough magic to undo the seals and just rummaged around Lucifer's stuff long enough to find the key to the door. He could not have found a more competent individual for a break out, really.

It’s just… well he didn’t expect to go from locked in a room like a prisoner to tied up in enchanted rope, still like a prisoner but now mobile. 😑 

They even used his own hug ruse against him! They caught his wrists when they got close and tied him up before he could shake them off...

Admittedly, it wasn't exactly the best look for them either - what with walking Belphegor downstairs to the others like a one-man-prison-caravan but they're as silver-tongued as they are sly so they talked their way out of it beautifully… 

And like hell was he going to trust them after that!! And not even Beel liked them so something had to be up...

Well, you want a detective? Look no farther than Belphie (no seriously, it’s in the canon). He can put things together pretty fast when he puts his mind to it and watching the MC for a while gave him enough proof to work off of...

He always knew that, humans were bad news and the MC just proved it to him all over again. They are bad news, bad bad news and they’re going to-!

Overthrow… Diavolo…? Is that what he is getting from them…? Huh…

Wait a second, MC. You might just have him interested… 😏

#you say athena mc is smart #i say athena mc is spy #because where better to use your smarts #in war #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me demigods

[letarasstuff]

You are not gonna meet them

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you all enjoy it :)

Summary: How will their beloved intern react, when the BAU is able to profile that she is seeing someone?

Warnings: One swear word (for the sake of a vine reference)

Wordcount: 1.2k

✨Masterlist✨

__________________________________

“What is their name?” Confused (Y/N) takes her eyes off the cup of her favorite hot beverage. To make sure Derek really speaks to her, she turns around in the breakroom. It’s only the two of them. “Whose name? I’m (Y/N), but Derek I work here for two months already. Aren’t you a little too young to suffer from Alzheimer’s yet?”

He laughs into his own cup before taking a sip. “You are seeing someone. Don’t try to hide that from a bunch of profilers, there is no use in that.”

Being the ever stoic and mature teenager, she sticks her tongue out. “I’m not hiding anything. I’m the CEO of being an open book. But spill your tea about your deductions, Sherlock.”

“As you wish, Watson. You are wearing tinted lip balm instead of your usual clear lip balm. I saw you reapplying it after you dropped off some files in Hotch’s office. Also you have a new hairstyle, which looks quite nice on you. In addition to that you wear a bottom up and I saw you wearing one only once and that was when you had to dress up for an undercover thing. Therefore I come to the conclusion that this is your definition of dressing up and I see no reason for it except you want to impress someone and I know for a fact that everybody in this building is too old for you. So, what’s their name?”

“Whatever”, (Y/N) breathes under her breath and makes an effort to escape this interrogation. But Spencer, who also decided it’s time for the trillions refill of his cup of sugar with a drop of coffee, stands in the doorway. “Spencer, can you please step aside? I have work to do”, she asks him sighing. But the genius doesn’t bulge.

(Y/N) looks dumbfounded at her coworker and friend. “I- that was pretty good. But you haven’t considered that I may have a meeting with our dear Section Chief regarding my future in the FBI.” At the end she smiles, thinking she has won this round. “I did”, Morgan answers, wiping the grin from her face, “ and I know again for a fact that this meeting is next week, because Hotch is seeing her today to talk about that subject. So, what are they like?”

“Oh, does our favorite intern have a love interest? (Y/N), why didn’t you tell me anything?” Emily asks as she enters the breakroom. “No, I don-” “Princess, I told you it isn’t possible to lie to us. We are basically human lie detectors.”

“I heard tea and I want you to spill it.” He says, proud to put the phrase she taught him a while ago in the right context. “There is not tea, just a lame glass of water”, (Y/N) responds and squeezes past him. The three profilers look at each other in confusion. Attracted by her confounding statement, they follow her to her desk.

“Why are you stalking the child?” Rossi asks with Hotch hot on his heels. “(Y/N) is seeing someone, but isn’t willing to tell us anything about them. Now we try to pry every bit of information from her”, Spencer explains.

The talked about subject sits at her desk, acting like nothing just occurred while going through some reports. “Are you talking about her crush?” JJ joins the group observation. Everybody looks at her in shock. “What do you know about this?” Derek may be a bit overprotective over his favorite princess.

“Probably not more than you. I just saw her smiling down at her phone and I didn’t spot a cute dog or cat picture so I figured it has to be an important someone”, JJ explains whilst shrugging her shoulders.

“I don’t like this guessing. Why don’t we just ask her?” Rossi is up and goes to (Y/N), the calls of his team members falling on deaf ears.

As the teenager hears the oncoming footsteps, she lifts her head and spies the older Italian. “Not you, too.” A groan leaves her lips while rubbing her forehead in distress. “Bambi, think of it as that: The earlier you confess to your lies, the earlier your conscience is lifted. So tell us about them, will you?”

The rest of the team inches closer to the duo, while (Y/N) contemplates her choices. “Well that is interesting. But what’s also interesting is: I don’t give a shit” Confused by her unusual speech pattern, Rossi throws a pointy glance towards her.

“Fine”, she once again sighs, knowing there is no other way to escape this situation. Not even the teenager’s sarcasm or pop culture can help her anymore.

Eagerly the team crowds around her desk, even Hotch is ready to get some good tea served. “I met them on the bus. Since I started here we rode the same bus every morning and afternoon. Their hair was the first thing I noticed about them. After a month I worked up the courage to talk to them.”

“And?” Morgan asks as (Y/N) doesn’t continue for several minutes. “I chickened out. No cap. But they chatted me up the next day and we are texting each other for several weeks now and we maybe have kind of our first date tomorrow and see each other for the last time today before the date and I want to leave a lasting impression maybe?” At the end she turns red. Like legit red, with tomato ears and stuff.

A loud squeal is heard. “OMG (Y/N) THIS IS SO CUTE I LITERALLY AM DEAD! OUR BABY IS FEELING LOOOOOVE! CLAP THOSE CHEEKS!” Although it seems impossible, she turns even redder at Penelope’s outburst.

“Ok, princess. I’m happy for you, but we need to meet them before you go with them anywhere. How old are they? What do they do for a living? What is their name? Garcia needs to make a background check”, Derek swivels her chair in his direction, looking the girl straight in the eye to make sure he is dead serious.

“Do they read? Emilia Clarke once said to never trust anybody, whose TV is bigger than their bookshelf, and I recommend you to follow that advice”, Spencer adds. “Can we help get you ready? I wanted to do a makeover for you for ages already”, Penelope throws in. JJ and Emily nod at that, showing that they too want to participate in this.

“Are you sure they are not basic, Bambi?” “Oh, Rossi. Never say that again. You are not allowed to talk like ever. Yes, I’m sure they got a cake and an even bigger heart. Before you also say anything complete out of line, Hotch: You all aren’t allowed to see them before I’m completely sure. Period. No complains.”

It’s safe to say that Aaron just needs to flash his doe eyes to convince (Y/N) that they indeed will meet their date before they go out together. I mean, who is better at delivering The Talk to a date than a bunch of (intimidating) profilers and a (even more intimidating) tech goddess?

Taglist:

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

#bau x reader #bau x teen!reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #emily prentiss x teen!reader #jennifer jareau x teen!reader #david rossi x teen!reader #aaron hotch x teen!reader #penelope garcia x teen!reader #derek morgan x teen!reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[novoaa1writes]

“hey. wanna bang?”

pairing: mazikeen x f!reader

summary: you meet maze on a night out at lux. the two of you hit it off, and end up sleeping together. you leave the next morning thinking it’s a one-off, but maze seems to have other ideas...

rating: teen

word count: ~1,300

warnings: implied sexual content, implied sex, minor blood and injury (not to either of you), maze being prone to violence and always ready to stab a bitch

notes: none? i don’t think? i just haven’t seen that many maze x reader works so figured i’d contribute something. also available on ao3

— —

You remember meeting Mazikeen like it was yesterday. 

It was late—quarter after midnight, maybe, and you were drunk. Well, not drunk. More like buzzed. 

After all, why shouldn’t you be? Your finals were over, you already had more than enough in your savings for next month’s rent, and your friend Vanya had managed to get the two of you on the list for Lux, the most popular nightclub in the city. 

It was just for one night, of course, but it was still pretty freaking cool regardless—sleek leather upholstery, a bar taking up the entirety of one wall, a spotless grand piano on the ground floor. In short, Lux made your guys’ go-to nightclub look like a shitty dive bar in comparison. 

Vanya had just left to go home with some dapper twenty-something woman in a suit, leaving you alone at the bar amidst a gaggle of exceedingly well-dressed people knocking back your third $20 shot of the night. 

With that, you were about ready to call it quits and send for an Uber to take you back home… except, it seemed, the night had other plans for you. 

Or, perhaps you should say Maze had other plans for you. 

She sidled up next to you at the bar, shoving over a lip-locked couple to make room for herself. If she felt the man turn to glower at her or the woman scoff and roll her eyes at her rudeness, she didn’t let on. 

“Hey,” she said, not even bothering to hide the way she was eyeing you up and down like a predator would its prey. “Wanna bang?” 

And… well. Turns out, you very much did want to “bang.”

You awoke buried in a mess of sheets atop a very nice bed in a loft that probably cost at least twice your yearly tuition, a fully-naked Mazikeen staring down at you with a quizzical expression.

You startled fully awake with a jolt, but managed to recover and flash her a shaky smile in the interest of keeping things casual, or... something. 

“Hi,” you said.

“Hello,” she said. She was still staring, completely unapologetic. 

It was strange—like all her boldness and audacity from the night before had suddenly vanished, replaced by… well, by what, you weren’t quite sure.  

“How long have you been awake?” you asked. 

She tilted her head slightly to the side, though her eyes didn��t leave you. “Hours.” She tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear, tracked the movements of her fingers brushing your skin with rapt attention. “You look.... not unpleasant when you sleep,” she said finally, then winced as she retracted her hand as though it physically pained her to do so. “For a human.”

You blinked, taken aback. The hell did that mean? “... Thanks?”

Her lips twitched. “You’re welcome.”

You giggled. “You’re weird.” Caution bled into her gaze, and you rushed to reassure her. “No, not bad weird… it’s good. I like it.”

She nodded, though she still looked wary. “Do you have anywhere to be today?”

You yawned, turning your head over to glance at the clock on the nightstand and—

Oh, shit. It was 10:42. 

“Fuck!” you shrieked, bolting upright in bed and throwing off the covers. “I’m late!”

“Late for what?” Maze asked. She watched with a vaguely disgruntled expression as you stumbled to your feet, far too frazzled to be abashed about your state of undress, eyes darting wildly around the room in search of your clothes.

“Work!”

And that… that was the first time it happened. Not that you’d expected (in any sense of the word) that this… thing you had was going to continue.

You weren’t exactly the girl who did one-night stands on a weekly basis or anything, but you’d had your fair share. You knew what to expect. Cocktails at the club, drunken sex, quick exit the morning after. Maybe one (or both) of you would stress meaningless pleasantries enough to exchange numbers or say “We should do this again sometime” or maybe even stay for breakfast (rarely), but that’s all they would amount to—meaningless pleasantries. 

You’d go to work (or class) the next day, head to the club on the weekend to drink and flirt with some random stranger (a different one this time), and that would be that. 

It didn’t matter that the sex was even more fantastic than it ever had been (which it was), or the way your heart skipped a beat when Maze’s fingertips brushed along your jaw (which it had). You knew better than to get hung up over a drunken one-night stand—especially one that started out with “Hey, wanna bang?”

 So, imagine your surprise when Maze strode into the 66th Ave Lounge where you worked as a bartender and made a beeline straight for you, gaze narrowed and lips flattened out into a thin line. She almost looked… angry—though, you were beginning to understand that ‘angry’ was pretty much Maze’s natural state of being.

It also seemed like the world had it out for you that day, because right then, some hammered middle-aged jackass from the other end of the bar decided to speak up, making some gross (and blatantly derogatory) comment about your tits. 

The effect was immediate: Anger flared like a lit match in Maze’s eyes, and she swiftly changed directions, stomping over to the sleazy man in question with narrowed eyes and murderous intent rolling off of her in waves. 

Needless to say, he got his hand skewered to the bar by one of the numerous curved blades on Maze’s person and a swift knee to the crotch for his troubles. 

He was screaming bloody murder in a matter of seconds, Maze had procured twin knives seemingly out of nowhere as she bore down, and you didn’t doubt that she’d have finished the job had you not chosen that exact moment to intervene. 

“Maze, stop !” you ordered—or, at least, tried to. Your voice trembled horribly, and it was at least an octave higher than usual. 

Immediately, she froze. 

You fought the sudden urge to shrivel on the spot as she turned her hard gaze upon you, brows raised in something like a challenge. 

“Maze, it’s fine,” you told her—pleaded, really. The man whimpered, slumped over the bar, drool and tears wetting the lacquered wood. “He’s drunk. He didn’t mean it.”

“Oh, I think he did.”

“Maze…” You sighed, silently begging her with your eyes. “Please. Even if he did, you’ve punished him enough, don’t you think?”

Maze’s expression softened incrementally, and she heaved a sigh. “Fine.” 

She snatched the ringed handle of her blade, yanked it loose from the bar (and the man’s hand) with little effort. The man screamed and sobbed, collapsing down onto the floor the moment he was freed. You fought the urge to grimace at the smear of blood he left on the bar. 

“But only because it’s you asking,” she clarified, then turned to loom over the writhing man, pointing down at him menacingly with her bloodied knife. “You say anything about my girl again—hell, you even look at her the wrong way… I’ll find you. And next time, she won’t be there to save your sorry ass. Got it?”

“G-Got it,” the man sobbed, his words choked with tears. 

“Good.” With that, Maze’s expression cleared as she turned to give you a calculating look over the bar. “When’s your shift over?”

You blinked, your brain struggling to comprehend what just happened. Primarily: ‘My girl’? “I-I get off at 11:00.”

“Good.” Maze’s full lips curved into a wolfish grin. “I’ll pick you up… and then we can get off.”

Then, she turned on her heel and strutted back out of the lounge without a backwards glance, leaving you confused, terrified, and… ridiculously turned-on in her wake. 

Holy shit. 

— —

end notes: idk i love maze being soft / confused by human interaction and confounded by Feeling Things™ but also being endlessly stabby because she’s maze and stabbing people is part of her charm

#maze x reader #mazikeen x reader #mazikeen #lucifer #stuff i wrote #lucifer fic #maze x f!reader #mazikeen x f!reader

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

The first match continues! How will our intrepid hero get out of this mess? (Spoilers, it’s ghosts.)

[No. 33 - Shinsou’s Situation]

Our first page here is actually another mock cover! Which I think might be a nod to some other comic book cover, though I would not be able to tell you which one.

Poor Izuku’s shirt, who knows where it might have gone. Boy’s gonna get a cold like that. And he’s standing on top of the rubble of a fallen apartment building I think? Just from the ladder and some of the brick-like debris. And the gloves and boots are definitely a different style from what we see Izuku wearing in canon. 

Anyways, into the chapter proper. The crowd’s making a lot of noise as Izuku continues to stand there frozen, with Present Mic comments on that fact, along with how Izuku is looking confounded and not even twitching. He correctly identifies it as Shinsou’s quirk at play, though he frames it as a question because, you know, show business. Ochako and Tenya are confused and concerned, as is Toshinori. 

Shinsou continues to stand there, menacingly, as Present Mic goes on about how they were barely aware that this guy existed, but now he’s sure one to keep an eye on! Aizawa brings up a pair of sheets, catching Mic’s attention, as he brings up how the entrance exam was completely irrational. The sheets have simple specs on the two, since they knew this would be a quirk versus quirk battle.

...wait, oh my god, but this WAS a quirk versus quirk, battle, though, just not in the way anyone was expecting! It was a mental control battle instead of a physical versus mental quirk battle! And was our first nod towards One For All having a powerful mental aspect, which becomes a major plot point like 250 chapters from now. I am just. Huh. Well then.

Continuing on with Aizawa’s commentary. Shinsou apparently failed the practical part of the exam, so he lost a spot in the hero course. He got into general studies, though, and that’s all he could have hoped for. His quirk is extraordinarily powerful, but, given the format of the practical exam, his ability didn’t help him out. 

Down in the arena, Shinsou comments to Izuku about how it must be nice to have everything handed to him. He then commands Izuku to turn around and walk out of the ring. Izuku ends up doing so, and Present Mic comments on Izuku following orders like a good little boy - which means that the crowds (or at least the announcer booth) has to be able to hear what’s being said?

Uhm. (Looks at later matches) Either they have selective hearing, or the mics must have been destroyed during the Izuku-Shouto match before they could give away anything incriminating.

Anywho. We finally get info on Shinsou’s quirk, Brainwashing! Which is absolutely not what his quirk does, it’s more like puppeteering or hypnosis, where brainwashing is a longer-term conditioning process. Shinsou’s quirk, according to the narration here, makes anyone who verbally responds to him instantly brainwashed, and will do whatever he commands. However, the quirk won’t work if he doesn’t will it. 

Huh, so I suppose that means written or signed responses don’t work, then. I’ve seen that in a fic or two. Though that then leads to the question about making noises that aren’t outright responses, like groaning or scoffs or whatever… eh, battle now, quirk thoughts later.

Up in the booth, Aizawa thinks about how, from the result of the strength tests, Izuku really shouldn’t have been placed in the hero course either. But Shinsou’s stats are even worse in any event where he couldn’t make use of his quirk. Izuku would come out on top in an ordinary battle, but now that he’s brainwashed, it’s a different story. This will be over quick…

Meanwhile, Toshinori is panicking over seeing Izuku about to walk out of the ring, a litany of ‘no’ escaping him as he mentally begs fo Izuku to stop walking. Izuku is also stressing out over his body not listening to him, as well as how fuzzy his head is. He’s trying to get himself to stop, and swearing when it’s not working. He’s especially mad at himself because Ojiro had even warned him about this ahead of time -

And as if to highlight this, we shift into a flashback where Izuku and Ojiro are talking. Izuku wonders how he can win against mind-control quirk. Ojiro replies that his loss could be Izuku’s gain. His memories cut out from the instant he replied to Shinsou, which is what he thinks is the trick.

Izuku is stressed out as he summarizes that it’s all over if he slips up and says anything to Shinsou. Ojiro disagrees, saying that it doesn’t seem like such an almighty ability. Remember how he said he didn’t remember anything until the end? When Shinsou had them run past to nab Tetsutetsu’s headband, he thinks he must have bumped into Tetsu’s formation - which was when he snapped out of it. He was suddenly aware of what was happening.

Izuku guesses that it had been undone by the physical contact, which Ojiro agrees with. That said, however, he has no idea how strong the contact needs to be. And in a one-on-one match, of course you can’t expect any outside help. (Cough) Anyways, that’s everything Ojiro can tell him. Izuku replies that no, it’s awesome, thanks! Ojiro asks for forgiveness if he’s out of line, but he wants Izuku to win this for him.

With that, we ome back to the present, Izuku getting awfully close to the line and his ringing himself out. Izuku thinks how it can’t end like this, over in a flash. Everyone’s done so much for him - he can’t lose here. 

And something responds.

Eight pairs of eyes watch from shadowy faces, almost everything about the specters nondescript. Izuku has no idea what’s happening, even as they seem to linger at the fringes of his mind. One For All starts to flow under the skin of his left arm, with Izuku quickly realizing he can move his fingers, even just a twitch. Shinsou, ignorant of this, starts to talk about how Izuku wouldn’t think so, but Shinsou’s quirk is like a dream. Oh, right, and Izuku loses. 

Izuku’s response?

He’s not out of it yet. Izuku heaves like he’s just breached the surface of a lake, his feet stopping right on the inside edge of the line. He then turns to stare at Shinsou in a very concerning way as Present Mic wonders at Izuku managing to stop. 

You know, I have this particular face saved in my folder under ‘boss music starts playing’ AND ‘boss music intensifies’. I feel like that’s pretty appropriate.

Izuku’s fingers throb in pain, and apparently the cameras are able to zoom in enough for Aizawa to see it and realize what happened - Izuku smashed it up to shake off the brainwashing. Ojiro is in nervous awe at Izuku going that far. Shinsou himself is unnerved, asking how he did it, that he shouldn’t have control. 

And here’s where we get to some interesting internal monologue from Izuku that I don’t think made it into the anime. 

Izuku slaps a hand over his mouth to keep himself from replying, thinking about how the finger was all him, but something woke him up. What was that? Who were all those people in his mind? For that one second, his head was clear!

One For All, All Might had told him. It’s passed down like the Olympic torch. Izuku recalls those words, and wonders if those were people, and if that was a sign that he’s linked by this power to the past. Did they save him? Is that even possible? Izuku tries to shake it off, knowing that just thinking about it won’t give him any answers, and to save it for later. He needs to think about now.

[I will have thoughts about One For All at the end of this, but for now, let’s finish up the battle.]

Shinsou is pissed, thinking about how Izuku’s not answering him, wondering if he figured it out. But no, he probably knew from the start, that that ‘damn monkey’ told him. He just has to get him to open his mouth again. He mocks Izuku for having nothing to say for himself, but Izuku manages to press his lips together and say nothing as he shifts into a fighting stance. 

Shinsou presses on, stating how he’s jealous, and how just moving that finger must mean Izuku’s the real deal. Thanks to his quirk’s nature, he couldn’t enter the golder gates. Izuku wouldn’t get that, since he’s naturally blessed. You people, born with your awesome quirks, getting to follow all of your dreams!

Izuku sweats as he pushes himself forward, internally noting that that’s how he used to think too. He does get it. But… right. He is blessed. He’s blessed by the people in his life! And that’s exactly why - that’s why he’s not going to lose!

Izuku throws himself forward, one hand grabbing Shinsou’s shoulder while the other slams itself into his stomach. Shinsou retaliates with a cross punch into Izuku’s face, demanding he say something. However, Izuku only turns back to stare at Shinsou, determination burning in his eyes as he begins shoving Shinsou back. Shinsou says that pushing him out isn’t gonna happen, right before he yanks himself out of the grip and doges around. Shinsou says he’ll give Izuku that honor instead as he smacks a hand into Izuku’s face and pushes him back. 

(Also, interrupting the flow here, but Izuku is making noise without Shinsou able to take control, so it really does seem like it has to be a response and not just noise. Which makes sense!)

Izuku grabs Shinsou’s wrist and his shirt, and with one mighty heave, manages an over-the-shoulder throw that firmly slams Shinsou back-first into the ground - and just over the line.

I’m pretty sure this is the same move Izuku pulled on Katsuki during the Battle Trial, actually - at least, from that momentary reaction shot we get from Katsuki. 

Midnight calls the match. Shinsou is gritting his teeth, and Izuku is straightening himself out as Midnight confirms that Izuku is moving on to the second round. 

And with that, the chapter comes to a close. What a match. And now that I’m not breaking the flow, it’s time to go back to the ghost stuff and ramble on it a bit more.

Alright, so. One For All. First time we’re seeing the ‘haunted’ aspect of it - and honestly, it’s not far out of line with what we end up seeing it capable of later on. It comes off as a physical quirk, but One For All as a stockpile holds everything from the past holders - strength, quirks, memories, personalities. And because of that overwhelmingly spiritual lean to the stockpile, One For All is, in many ways, as much a mental quirk as Shinsou’s, if not more so. Arguably, it could count as the most mental quirk, and that ties back into something All Might mentions at the end of the Hosu arc - that One For All can’t be taken unwillingly. 

I’ve seen criticism of this fight’s handling, and how One For All shouldn’t have been able to (or interested in) stopping Shinsou from taking the win. But it’s really not about Shinsou’s quirk itself - it’s about the mental control! The helplessness, the desperation from not one, but two living holders to overcome this and retake control from the person commandeering them.

One For All’s existence, it’s purpose, is to resist being taken by All For One. It is the collective will of nine people, all with a deep-seated will to resist control. So why wouldn’t One For All step in here, when Izuku needs to learn to fight against mental puppeteering? When the still-hazy spirits of the quirk must already have the sinking feeling that All For One isn’t as dead as hoped?

Can it really be a surprise that they stepped in?

I’ll probably make a longer post digging more into this after Kamino, but yeah. Honestly, this fight is a LOT more interesting in the manga than I recall from the anime, since we get a bit more of Izuku’s thought process and what’s happening with OFA. 

To close us out, here’s some discord commentary on the match:

#chapter 33 #sports festival arc #readthrough #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #midoriya izuku #shinsou hitoshi #ojiro mashirao #yagi toshinori #yamada hizashi #aizawa shouta #one for all #quirk's haunted #QUIRK IS HAUNTED #whoo boy do I really like this scene so much #especialyl izuku cottoning on right away to what's happening #even if the details elude him for a while

[lavenderbexlatte]

office hours

nct 1.8k words gender-neutral reader insert Reader x Qian Kun SUGGESTIVE/NSFW

🖤 warnings: vaguely inappropriate work relationships, kissing n’ touching, a boner 🖤

connect with me! / masterlist

“Any final questions before I let you go?”

You glance out over your small class of undergraduate seniors, anticipating the usual last-minute queries about due dates for next week or term definitions from your lecture today. These students are pretty bright, all things considered, and extremely attentive even though your senior seminar class meets in the morning.

That’s why the question that one of your back-row girls asks bowls you over as much as it does.

“Doc, do you think Professor Qian is cute?”

“Professor Qian? In the music department?” you ask, trying to hide how flustered you are.

“Yeah. D’you think he’s hot?” the girl repeats, grinning as she shoves her notebook into her bag without breaking eye contact with you.

“I guess…I’ve never really thought about it,” you say honestly.

The girl hums. “Well, I think he’s pretty hot.”

You get the feeling that she’s got an agenda, a feeling that’s only solidified when you see a few of your other students struggling to hold back laughter and smiling into their books. This is not gonna fly. They can’t make things weird for you, these little punks.

“Any other final questions?” you ask, “About the material?”

Heads shake around the room.

“Okay. Go home, and you better have your summaries to me by Sunday night!”

The students pick up their bags and their books and their Hydroflasks, and they leave the room in their ones and twos. As the last one bids you goodbye, and you’re left alone with your notes again, you sincerely hope to yourself that this isn’t going to become…a thing. These kids (young adults, actual grown adults, though you always think of them as kids) are far too old to be pulling shit like this on you.

Truly, deeply, sincerely, you hope that your 22-year-old student is not planning on trying to bag the music professor. That would be way too much trouble to have on your radar.

You sling the last of your class materials into your bag, and head for your usual stop after your ten o’clock class: the nearest dining hall. The school gives you free lunches on the days that you teach, so you might as well take advantage.

One trip through the buffet-style lines later, you’re balancing your full plate as you scan the room for an open table. The only one you can spot, however, is right next to a group of students, and holding court is none other than your senior girl with the apparent penchant for older men.

“-like a fucking idiot!” you hear one of the other students laughing, “He’s faculty. He’ll get fired.”

“Only if I snitch,” your student is saying.

“Or if literally anyone finds out,” says another one.

“No one would find out. No one would care,” your student dismisses. “Unless they’re in the music department, no one even knows who Qian is.”

So she’s really trying to fuck Qian Kun, huh?

It’s none of your business, really. But if this actually happens, and it even gets out that you knew and said nothing, it’ll be your ass on the line, too. And you’re really not one to fight important shit like Title IX. But the girls at the next table aren’t letting up, the conversation turning more and more raunchy and giving you a growing desire to plug yours ears with the shitty cafeteria napkins for some sense of deniability.

You stab at your meal, annoyed at the position that you’re in now, the liability you hold. Fuck.

You’re gonna have to go see this other professor, and head off this mess before it begins.

---------------

It’s rare that you’re on campus in any place but your own department, but you find yourself in the music building later that evening. You’d done a quick snoop on the faculty page and found Professor Qian’s office hours, and decided that sooner is better. If you can get to him before your (admittedly pretty and fit and 22) student does, then maybe you can spare everyone the headache.

His office is tucked at the end of the hall, farthest from the doors into the building. Lucky him, you think. Your own tiny office is smack in the middle, with essentially no privacy as other faculty and students come and go all day long. The door is shut when you reach it, but the light inside is on, so you knock.

“Just a sec!”

You oblige, waiting and praying to anyone who’ll listen that you’re not about to see a very familiar coed behind this door.

But no. When finally, the door opens, all you see is Professor Qian.

He’s not someone you know well, or someone you see often, and maybe that’s why you spend such an awkward amount of time just looking at him. Your first extremely stupid thought is that your student is kind of right: he’s cute. Thick brown hair, neat eyebrows, a jawline that makes him look like a goddamn marble sculpture…

“Can I help you?” he asks.

You nod, mentally kicking yourself for being weird. “Yeah, hi. Can I come in?”

Qian Kun gives you a brilliant gentle smile that reveals deep dimples, and gestures you into his (blessedly empty) office. You introduce yourself, give him your name and your department, and after a cordial handshake and pleasantries, stood in the middle of the tiny space, you decide to just come right out and say it.

“I have a student who I think you know,” you say, “She’s a senior and a double-major.”

He asks for her name, and you give it.

“Yeah, she’s in my senior seminar,” Professor Qian tells you.

“Mine, too,” you say, “And she’s gotten a little…TOO comfortable in class, lately.”

His grin turns lopsided. “Are we talking eating without permission, or something less tasteful?”

“She has made it clear that she’s interested in some things involving you. And her. And sex,” you tell him, fighting to keep your voice level and not actually die of embarrassment.  

Now the grin disappears entirely. “Seriously?”

You nod, “The exact words I heard were ‘he’s super stacked and I want to-‘”

“Whoa, okay!” Professor Qian cuts you off, “Okay, yeah. No.”

“Professor, I’m sure you know this, but I can’t let anything like that happen. We’ll both get canned,” you say.

“Kun.”

“Pardon me?”

“Call me Kun,” he says, “We’re colleagues, don’t need to dance around titles.”

“Kun,” you repeat, “Alright. But you – you’re not going to-”

“Christ, no,” Kun says emphatically, looking scandalized.

“Good. This has been the most thoroughly uncomfortable conversation of my whole career, but good,” you say.

“I would rather you bring it up to me than let things get worse,” he assures you.

“I’m sure it’s flattering to know that students are interested,” you joke. “Sort of wish I was that kind of attractive.”

Kun laughs. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’ve always thought you were attractive.”

Your brain comes screeching to a halt so quickly, you’re sure Kun can hear as it slams on the breaks and leaves you confounded and blinking at him. He has the presence to look a bit sheepish, having just turned this around on you.

“I’m sorry, was that too much?” he says, running a hand through his hair nervously.

“Unexpected but appreciated,” you reply. “And what do you mean, ‘always?’”

Kun shrugs, leaning back against his desk. “We share a lot of students. They talk about you, that makes you stand out, I see you around. Frequency bias.”

You crack a smile. “So, I come here to save you from one of my horny students, only to find you’re my secret admirer, is that it?”

“You could say that.”

He looks amused but not smug, satisfied but not cocky. The way he’s leaning his weight back on the sturdy wooden desk makes it really difficult not to notice his strong thighs in their fitted slacks, or his chest against the thin fabric of his shirt.

Maybe you were a little harsh, before, judging your student’s attraction to him. You can see the appeal. Completely.

You take a step closer to him, which isn’t difficult given the extremely limited space in the office. “You spend a lot of time thinking about me?”

“A completely normal amount of time,” he replies.

“What kinds of things do you think about?”

Kun reaches toward you suddenly, and then hesitates, leaving his hand hovering in the general direction of your hip. Fascinated, you cover his hand with yours and bring it down to meet your side, as he intended.

“How you always look so put-together but act so cavalier,” he says, finally. “How the kids say you curse in lecture and sit cross-legged on your desk and watch TikToks on your phone, but also grade harder than anyone in your department.”

You hadn’t known that anyone noticed those things. Not your students, and least of all some random colleague.

“So what do you wanna do about it?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Well,” says Kun, taking hold of your hip more firmly, “Since you’re right here, and the door is shut, and you’re not one of my students…”

You laugh, and his smile makes those dimples pop out again.

“Then,” he says, “Then I think I wanna do this.”

You can say with absolute certainty that you didn’t come here to kiss Qian Kun, but that’s exactly what’s happening. He kisses calm and steady, and you’re ready to about melt into his arms. It’s just a few gentle presses of your lips against his, until he suddenly grabs you around the waist and spins the both of you, so that you’re the one up against the desk.

He lifts you the little bit so that you can sit on the cold surface of it. You move your legs to either side of his hips, and he groans a bit as he draws even closer. As he settles his body against yours, you can feel the barest beginning of an erection pressing against your inner thigh.

“Excited already?” you ask, amused, as Kun traces a path of kisses across your jaw.

“Maybe,” he replies, “Are you complaining?”

“Not at all.”

He laughs at that, which makes you laugh, and you hook your arm around his neck to bring his mouth back to yours. You could get used to this, you think, as one of Kun’s hands sneaks down to jerk your button-up out from where it’s tucked into your nice jeans. As soon as he has access, that hand goes right up your shirt to find purchase-

KNOCK KNOCK.

You jump, and Kun glances over his shoulder at the door, panic evident on his face. Before he can call out to tell whomever it is to wait a second, the door swings open.

“Hey, Qian, I had a question about the performance review for-”

Of course, it’s her. Your student, the very same one with the hots for Kun, walking headlong into the office. When she finally looks up and sees you there, on the desk, legs spread and Kun between them, she freezes.

“I…” she sputters, “I – I guess I’ll come back later.”

“Close the door behind you,” Kun agrees.

She nods, looking mortified. “Yeah, yeah, of course. S-see you on Monday, Doc!”

#nct #nct fanfic #qian kun #qian kun scenarios #nct kun #nct kun scenarios #wayv kun #wayv #tw power imbalance

[bangteamhyuk]

Got It

Synopsis: (Secret Agent! AU) You sat on barstool inside a strip club. You have your eyes on Kim Taehyung, another mercenary agent like you. You planned it for months. You were hired to intercept Kim Taehyung before he can transport an information that could ruin  several market industry. Your goal is to steal his watch. However, you were faced with slight difficulty. You were enjoying his company way too much. Can you resist his charms? You have to try harder.

Warning: Mature Content, mentions of weapon, sexually suggestive conversation, lap dancing, dry humping.

Word count: 3,395

Mood song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8wjbY0Tyfr4

“One Bourbon, please” you ordered as you raised your hand to signal the bartender and slowly sat on the barstool. You swiveled from your seat and leaned with your arm on the high table while you wait for your drink.  

From your seat you could see men riveted to the girls on the stage, dancing, flying and grinding down to a pole. But your eyes were fixated on somewhere else. You’ve been waiting for this for so long, meticulously planned and watch it fall in to proper places before you could make this move.

You were wearing a tight-fitting midnight violet dress, chest slightly exposed, and the hem ending right above your thigh. When your drink arrived, you shifted from your seat, legs crossed, and your elbow resting from the table as you took a sip from the rock glass. You tucked your hair from your ear when it fell, and you could swear someone was gazing at your direction.  It was hard for men not to look at you, they’d be damned if they didn’t.

Well, naturally you’d be attracting a lot of men from your seat, since you are one of the few women inside in a male-catered strip club. You weren’t there for a show, or some woman engulfed with jealousy to see your cheating husband having fun.  No, tonight you are an exception. You are there for a purpose and right now he is finally staring at you. Just one seat apart.

“Your first time?” He asked, taking a shot from his glass. He raised his empty glass to indicate the bar tender to refill his drink with a 21-year-old Royal Salute. You raised one eye brow and looked at his direction. “No” you smiled.

“What brings you here then?” he pursed his lips and folded his arms. His eyes now surveying you. “Observing…” your body leaning a bit forward to his direction, not showing one bit of intimidation. “Observing?” he continued, in return he also leaned towards you, not backing out as if taking up to your challenge. “Hmm..” you chuckled, sitting back from your position and being the first one to concede to whatever it is you two have stirred. You sipped from your glass, eyes now looking at the women dancing.

“You like women?” he tilts his head

“I like men more” you replied, as your finger traced the outlines from your glass and you stared back. You faintly saw his spine shake, as if you have roused something from him, piqued his interest.

“What brings you here?” You asked coyly. He just bats his eyes and smiled. Damn, he looked cute.

“Just like any other men, up to no good.” He confessed and grinned. “So, you are here to observe and learn from those women up on the stage? For what? For your boyfriend?” he looked back to the stage and sip from his glass.

“You could say that… but no, I am doing it for someone else, someone I want to attract for the night…” you spoke bluntly, while looking at him even if he was looking at somewhere else.

He turned around and smirked “Must be one lucky guy”.

“Who knows, it might just be you.” you shrugged as you looked away, smirking. You finished whatever that is left from your glass.  

“Kim Taehyung” he extended his hand to yours. You looked back and smiled.

“Y/N” you replied.

“Nice to meet you Kim Taehyung” you shook his hand.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

You already knew who he was. Kim Taehyung.

Your current client, a man named Mr. Ong who holds a seat on an international trade bureau, introduced Taehyung’s file to your office one night. During your study, you found out several similarities you shared him. Both of you are mercenaries, independent agents to whoever have any interest to shell out millions of dollars for a single task.

Both of you had a promising future, but dropped out from school just because. Both of you started early on this underground business knowing that the pay is more than good, in fact it blasphemously outrivaled any other job. Fuck. You roll your eyes. You are pretty sure he gets the same elation after every successful mission. You two must be insane, and that further ignited your pursuit. Nothing is more attractive to you than a man who shares the same ambition, no matter how morally wrong it appears to achieve.

You were tasked to steal an information from him, encrypted to a memory card hidden somewhere beneath his watch, as you were told. Your client insist that it is of great importance, that the market industry of several countries will be in jeopardy if that information is not intercepted immediately. Honestly, you could not care less.

Now that the secret transporter is right in front you, his boxy smile is definitely testing your confounded endeavor and your damn loyalty to the money.  You furtively shake your head hoping to keep your mind refocused on the present task.  You can’t let your months of probing, studying profiles and building a fake character around the people involved just to get this close to him go to waste tonight.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh so you knew my friend Jimin huh?” he chuckles. Finishing his 5th shot of whiskey. He raised his again to gesture the bartender for a 6th refill. “I’m appalled you haven’t gotten under his influence. Typically, women just…” he laughed midway. You didn’t know why, but you did the same. You weren’t drunk just yet, but you somehow already feel intoxicated around him.

“…just are drawn to him. Even when he just breathe, they are instantly swept off their feet by Park freaking Jimin. It’s not just women, even men!” He raised both his brows, clearly surprised.

“Maybe, but I’m drawn more to men who is crazy as me.” You flipped your hair, exposing your neck. “…and he doesn’t quite make the cut” you continued.

You smirked as the sight of him gulped. He took a quick glance from your bare display of your decolletage. Did that surprise him? But you were just getting started.

“What do you mean by that?” he slowly returns his gaze from your skin towards your eyes.

“Well…” you tilt your head bashfully as you stood up and move to a sit right next to him, finally closing the gap.

“I like to make. Bold. Moves. That’s for starters” you bit on your lips trying not flash another smile, as you took his glass from him and downed all its contents empty. He froze. You left him dumbfounded.

You looked at the sight quite proudly, taking control of the mis en scene, leaving him bewildered and vulnerable. It is only a matter of time and patience to have him finally wrapped around your fingers, and you are willing take it slow. Shit. Are you enjoying this way too much?

“Bold moves? I hope you are not revealing yourself way too much. It’s pretty dangerous” he looks away as he asked for another refill you stole from him.

You chuckled as you were holding on to your empty glass, staring blankly at it “Aren’t I? I kind of like that sound” Suddenly you felt his warm palms against yours. You stopped smiling as you turn your gaze towards him, clearly off-guard. “Your glass please?” he demanded as he smirked.

Did he just took over and shift the control of the present situation to him? You jolted at the thought.

“Sure…” you handed your empty glass over to him. He held it for the bartender to have it filled with the same drink he had earlier. “I hope you don’t steal anything from me for now on. I don’t like it.” He said sternly.

“Sorry” you apologized, looking down.  You suddenly stiffened from your seat. Wait, did you just apologized to the person who you are supposed to deceive and exploit by the end of the night?

“It’s fine” he snickered. “Women showing regret when they’re wrong, that’s genuinely attractive” he gleamed at his own glass as he took a swig.

You were lost in thought. Confused. What just happened? You never liked the idea nor the feeling of being subordinate. You love being in authority. Men, influential men, you always find them on their knees begging before you and asking for your help. It is the view you glorified, perpetually.

Just how many women can make men desperate without taking off their clothes or pointing out a gun? What you two have is far greater than a human figure or artillery, it was knowledge. Vast one that can possibly create a war if one of you ever fancy. It is the reason why you kept this job.

However, you are confronted by a man who might just be far superior than you are. Have you misjudged him?

“Do you… perhaps find me attractive?” you tried revert the situation with your question.

“I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t be.” he replied. He raised his eyebrow

“Sorry for earlier. Maybe I can make it up to you if I show you how remorseful I can be?” you instigated.

“Oh, was it not enough?” he licked his lips.

You shook your head. “I can do better.”

You pursed your lips pointing out to the dancer. “Want me to show you? All free. Well, that is, if you agree..”

“Right now?” he enquired as you nodded.

Quickly, he downed the last of his whiskey. You waited for his reply. “Where can I see this show you were saying?”

“Follow me” you held his hand and left the strip club.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

As you opened your hotel room, you directed Taehyung to enter first. He was hesitant at first, but your smile softened any trace of doubt from him and finally entered the room.

“Nice room. Quite cozy…” he looked around the ceiling even if there wasn’t anything to see. You closed the door behind you.

“Sit” you pointed at the wooden chair to Taehyung. He obliged, yet his feet were shaking.

“Relax, I’m not going to do an interrogation” You stood behind him, reaching out an arm as you gently pressed your hand on to his lap, assuring his safety. He suddenly quivered from his sit. “We haven’t even started yet.” You chuckled.

He moved his head, as if tickled at the dry sensation of your voice which sits right next to his ears. You pulled out your phone from your purse and filtered through the contents of your playlist.  Finally you found it and played the song you’d love Taehyung to hear.

As the first verse fiddled, you surprised Taehyung by dropping down your heel in between his legs from behind while he remained seated. The sight left him paralyzed. Finally, you were back in control.

You brushed your hand on your bare legs from your thigh down to your heel, entrapping him further to you, with your delusive enticement. You needed to put his attention on you, and kept it as long as you could.

You shift your position, and danced in front of him now. Swaying your hips, spreading your legs and dropping down on your heels, shamelessly. You let him watch and do nothing from his sit.

When the song was almost over, you artfully sat on his lap, moving your hips against him as if simulating the act of copulating. It was dastardly obscene, but you are not one bit regretful. In fact, if this isn’t a part of your job you would gladly taken your clothes off for him by now.

Suddenly you felt his growing bulge. You were startled and left flustered, but you got to keep on going. You looked away from him, unsure what to do next, yet he swiftly took your chin to face him.

Earlier, you found this man adorable and full of charm, but now you found yourself intimidated at his gazed and the abrupt change from his face. His expression unyielding. His posture dignified.

His free hand secured your back, while you move not letting you leave a single gap away from him. He bit his tongue and watch you danced. Everything about him suddenly felt fatal and intense.

You didn’t want that. His hands are not supposed to be there. It will ruin your plan. So you pulled out both of his hand placed it above his head. You held on to his wrists. You secured it with your left hand as you unbuttoned his shirt slowly, using your right.

You weren’t choking him, yet you found his eyes shut and his mouth gasping for air. Then it hit you. It’s the perfect chance for you to end this whole ordeal. You brushed your nose on his shoulder slowly moving up to his ears. Lips almost touching his ear lobe.

He let a soft moan.

You whispered sweet nothings against his ears, telling him how good he is just by merely sitting down. You made sure he was so distorted from reality, unaware of the fact that you are beginning to take his watch from his wrist.

“Aren’t good boys the best?” you whispered as you pressed down the pressure point that sends him unconscious. You sighed.

“That was easy huh?” You stood up and fixed yourself from the table mirror. You looked at the watch and smiled. Delighted to find yourself victorious.

You took your purse and tucked his watch inside. “Oh, I almost forgot!” you picked up your phone which you tossed on the floor earlier. Before you left the room, you took one last look at the man.

Has it not been for work, you would’ve asked him out for coffee instead of a private show and a lap dance. It could have led something and somewhere better for the both of you. “Maybe in another dimension, we could have been drinking hot coffee right now, talking how shitty our jobs are…” you shrugged. What were you expecting? You just knocked him unconscious and you were waiting for a reply?

You turn off the lights of the room and left.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Upon arriving at your apartment, you began to inspect his watch, looking for the memory card your client desperately covets. You carefully unscrew his watch, removing its contents gently. You finally found the memory card hidden at the back of the plate.

You took your memory card reader device and connected it to your laptop. You opened the folder and found that there was only a single file in it. You checked. It’s a recorded video.

“Hi Y/N. Surprised?” he chuckled. Damn it. You knew you are screwed.

“Well to be honest, I wouldn’t expect you to get this far, but hey, congratulations! Well done! But don’t you think I’m a far better player?” He scrunched his nose while staring at the camera. You snickered. You nodded, showing you’ve conceded. You were well played.

“You see, I always knew one day I might be able to face a tough contender. But…” he looks at his watch on his wrist and then throws an identical one above his face and catch it with the same hand. Dangled it on the front of the camera as if to annoy you further at your defeat. “You always can’t be too sure, can you? Wait…” he fixed his camera and placed it on the floor.

He rolled his pants, and wrapped the original watch around his thin ankle and hid it with his socks and pants. “It’s going to be uncomfortable from now on, but at least I’d be able to sleep soundly tonight” you were baffled at the scene. You were right. You have definitely underestimated him.

“Oh, you were wondering how I knew you before getting this? Well, let me enlighten you. The moment I received this specific job to transport this information from my client to another. I made a point of doing some research, finding who my client might be having bad terms with. Unfortunately, I trickled it down to your client, Mr. Ong. I have him followed by the people I trust. Later on, I found out that he had hired you, so I asked someone to follow you too. Actually, you may have heard of him.” You gasped. No, you shook your head, hoping you were wrong.

He nodded, as if he saw right through you from the screen. “Jimin. Yes, Park Jimin. You see, never underestimate a seemingly naïve man. You never know what’s underneath them.” He looked down to where his original watch was hidden, as if adding more fuel to your growing frustration.  It’s funny how you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him. You actually admired him. His dedication to his job and the extent he is willing to do to get it done, that’s definitely appealing.

“We made it a point that he acts friendly towards you, make it conspicuous that he knows me. I needed you to look for me, follow me, and then trapped you down to where I want you to be.”

Your mouth was left agape. You remembered everything completely. From the moment Jimin introduced himself to you in a coffee shop, and down to taking you out for the evening. One night he insists on taking you home, when you two are walking the streets he suddenly pointed out the strip club, and then shared stories of him and his friend Taehyung who loves to spending time inside it.

How have you been so stupid and gullible, not having any slight idea that getting that information from Jimin was too fast and easy. Things are starting to make sense now.

“I made sure we meet at the strip club. Something tells me you have a knack for dancing…” he winked at the screen. “I always knew you have thing for good men. Good but naughty ones, right?” He nods to himself “Yeah, I also did my research well.” He folds his arms and sat comfortably from his chair. “I hope I convinced you enough to make you interested and keep you from being attracted to me.” He showed his boxy grin. “Aren’t I irresistible? Anyway, I’d also like to thank you. If you haven’t realized yet. I took something quite important from you too.” You froze. What was it that he took away from you?

“Your anonymity, that you hold so dearly.” He was right. Like any other mercenary agents, you desired working in the shadows. Having your true identity known will hold you back, that why you never kept a single person close to you. It’s going to disturb you from work. “Don’t you agree knowledge is very powerful and beguiling?” He looks at the watch from his wrist and pointed something on the side. “If you have been keener, you will absolutely realize that in between the strap of the watch you stole from me have a little device called locator.” Shit! You quickly packed your essential things in your knapsack. You knew what’s coming next.

“I told you, I like women who show remorse if they misbehave. Girls like you should be punished don’t you think so? But, thankfully, I’m quite a forgiving man. I am giving another minute after this video ends, so you can escape. Sorry Y/N, I am also doing my job. I needed more time before you can intercept me again. Maybe, if the time is right. We can have coffee?” you chuckled at the absurdity of the situation. The video ended with that. Asking you out for coffee when the time is right.

“Yeah, I’d love that” you chuckled. You can hear the police from downstairs looking for you. If only you have been more careful and overvalued him you wouldn’t be caught in this situation. You scoffed at screen. Looking at it one last second before you closed your laptop.

The smile of the person who just outsmarted you.

You quickly left from your window to run on the roof above your apartment. Suddenly your phone buzzed. A message from an unregistered number. While running you opened it and saw his message. “I had fun. Thanks for the private show ;) Don’t forget to throw your phone. I’d love to see you next time.” You chuckled as you threw your phone aimlessly away. Damn. He was good.

“Kim Taehyung, you got it” you smirked.

Author’s note: Thank you for giving time. I really appreciate it! 

#bts fanfic #kim taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung fan fiction #Kim Taehyung x you #Kim Taehyung one shot #bts secret agent au #bts fanfiction #taehyung x reader #Kim Taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung x you

[my-writings-and-musings]

I was wondering if you could do something with ambulon, possibly fluff? Love the imagines btw

Thank you for giving me an excuse to love on my favorite underappreciated boy. Also, thank you, I love all the inspiration!

The chipping paint was a sore point for Ambulon, like so many other things about himself, but unlike all his other unfortunate traits it was made so much worse by the simple fact that it was impossible to hide. Having an embarrassing altmode, the true reason for his name, even his past as a Decepticon... he could cover all that up no problem. But the constantly chipping paint job? No shielding that from anyone close enough to simply see him...

It was made worse by how often bots tried to offer tips; use a primer, pay for a proper redo, try some new sealant... He knows they mean well, but none of them know what they're talking about, not really. If it was that easy, did they really think he wouldn't have fixed it by now? The Decepticon purple paint underneath was just as fragmented as the medic coded red and white on top, and that wasn't going to be fixed by anything simple.

The truth was "Flaky Paint Syndrome" could have many causes despite manifesting as a single, embarrassing result, and while most bots had poor application or easily irritated mesh to blame, his problem was rooted in something far less corporeal.

He was anxious. Every hour of every day, something had him on edge, and the constant strain on his nerves resulted in chips of paint cracking away from his always agitated frame. It was lucky really, most bots as unsettled as he was developed spark static or overheated and warped joints, his constant buzz of disquiet just made him look somewhat sloppy. Such a personality probably made his occupation seem like a bad choice, but he was content to endure the struggle for the satisfaction of saving lives, and now that he was on the relatively stable Lost Light he was managing better than he had in a long time. Thus, he hadn't had any plans on changing his status quo anytime soon.

Until you had showed up.

He hadn't even met a human before you'd joined the crew, but even if he had, he never could have expected that you'd get tangled up in his life the way you did. Something about you had just... connected with him. Maybe it was the fact that you didn't make fun of him, either for his altmode or his appearance, and also hadn't judged him for his past... Not even the reason for his silly name had made you laugh! He just liked spending time with you, even if it was to do nothing in particular.

As a result of these feelings, a desire to impress you had formed, and he'd actually made an effort to keep up with his looks for a change. Granted, that meant daily repaints completely unaided and in secret, all in his room where he twisted and turned in a ridiculous effort to look good for the person who probably only saw him as a friend. Logic didn't play much of a role in feelings, however.

Of course, it was just his luck you'd walked in on him at this most embarrassing time for the kind of friendly visit he ordinarily would have been thrilled about.

The cry of surprise that had escaped him when the doors whooshed open was impressively high pitched for a bot of his size, but you'd probably been more focused on the paint his startled jump had sent spattering in all directions, though none of it had flown far enough to hit you by some miracle.

"Ambulon, are you okay?!" You shouted in alarm, seeing the flash of red but not his paintbrush and immediately thinking of blood. Though you knew bots bled glowing pink, the instinct to offer aid at the first impulse was just too hard to ignore. Without hesitation, you hurried to get to his side, only growing more concerned as he hid his hand behind his back. Even if this wasn't how you'd wanted your visit to go you cared far too much about the medic to be concerned about such petty things. "What's wrong? Where are you hurt?"

"Who? Me? Hurt?" He rushes in ongoing panic, backing up against a desk to put as much space between you and him as possible. Despite looking ridiculous backing away from someone as small as you, all he can think to do is hide his paintbrush in an effort to save his dignity. At least, what's left of his dignity as he sputters through an excuse made up on the spot. "I'm just, uh... You know..."

Painting a landscape? Applying color to his hab suite? Decorating his medical supplies!?

"Are you painting something?" You asked, moving your small body to catch a glimpse of a bot sized paintbrush in the hand he hadn't done a good enough job of hiding. You figuring out the problem actually seemed to make him panic more, and he twisted again to hide the offending object behind his back, looking down at you as if you'd just stumbled upon him burying a body.

"Of course not!" He said in a rush, lie falling apart when the thick application of bright red he'd applied to his chest dripped downwards from the force of his rapid twisting around. Cringing, he avoided your eyes like a criminal. It would be bad enough if you simply knew about his troubles in any level of detail, but to have personally seen his juvenile and ridiculous efforts to cover up his humiliating condition... Would it be too much to ask that he dissapear at this very moment?

"Ambulon, are you okay?"

Nope, he's not, he won't be ever again but it's very nice that you thought to ask-

"Seriously, look at me."

You're firm but not at all angry as you issue the command, starting to put the pieces together in a way that makes some sense. The medic has had paint troubles more or less his entire life, as you've heard, but they had started to dissapear right about when you showed up. Though you hadn't pried, it had been logical to assume he'd been fixing himself up. Regardless of the accuracy of your guess, however, you know that this bot needs help. As much as you care for him, you simply can't let him suffer needlessly. No matter how often he switches between seeking you out and avoiding you...

"I'm... I'm fine, I promise." He mumbles, feeling like a pitiful failure for not even thinking to lock his door. There's so much to be embarrassed by he doesn't even know where to begin being mortified, but it's obvious the fallout will be a spiral into further humiliation, so he still wants to stall. You'll laugh when you hear he's been fixing himself up in a ridiculous attempt to impress you, because of course it's absurd, and he'll never be able to show his face again...

"Why are you embarrassed about some paint? I figured bots touched themselves up every now and then." You said innocently, baffled as to why he'd react in such a way. Rodimus bragged about redoing his colors all the time, so you'd figured there were no issues in doing so. Was there some other reason this could be considered embarrassing? The only possible explanation required you to go on a bit of a limb, but for his sake you decided to chance it, gulping once before you hesitantly spoke up. "Did you do this for me? Have you been redoing the colors since I got here?"

Ambulon flinched, and you realized you'd hit the nail on the head.

"I'm sorry-"

"For what?" You asked incredulously, head swimming with emotions clustering to be felt first. There was surprise, giddy delight, bashfulness, and even confoundment at the idea you could be in this situation. A part of you wanted to celebrate, but there was still far too much to sort through at the moment. His look of hopelessness exemplified the problem.

"For being ridiculous! Look at me! Pretending if I touch up some rough patches, it'll actually do anything? Ha!" He said, giving voice to the unpleasant uncertainty that lurked just below the surface. Drowning in his insecurity, he frowned hard, the absurdity of what he'd been trying to do all but slapping him in the face. Forget the species difference, you were a vibrant and charming individual who deserved far better than he. What had he even been trying to do? The answer came out of him as he sunk down to the ground and let the brush fall, hugging his knees as the weight of it all pulled him down. "I wanted so badly to look good for you, I lost track of common sense..."

"But Ambulon-"

Unable to hear you, he kept right on going, lost in his own little fog of shame. "You weren't supposed to know... Nobody was supposed to know... But I blew it-"

"Ambulon!"

You couldn't take it any more. The heartbreaking sight of the bot you thought was so delightful tearing himself apart was too much. Ignoring any common sense, you put yourself out for his sake, opening up your heart in the hope that your own vulnerabilities might help him feel better. A tender hand on his own preceded a gentle expression of reasurance as you looked into his optics.

"I'm flattered you want to look your best for me, really. But it's not necessary." You said, suddenly aware that your heart was hammering as you prepared to confess. It was probably about time you cut to the chase, after spending these months bobbing along in uncertainty, but that didn't make it any less scary to be so open. Hopefully it would all end well... "I think you look fine just how you are."

Ambulon felt his processor go blank, and all that he could do was fall back on his usual attitude with a surprised retort. "But I'm a mess!"

You laughed, but not in the way he'd feared. It was a good natured, loving, laughing with him and not at him kind of sound. "I don't care about some paint chips now and then, you goof. Why do you think I'm here?" All of a sudden your fear seemed to be turning into confidence, the anxieties you'd created for yourself melting away as the truth came out. Seeing a towering alien laid low by your simple feelings definitely made it much easier to express them. "I wanted to see you, purple and red and all, because I like you."

Something clicked inside of him upon hearing those words. So much shame and fear dissolved in what felt like an instant, his optics pushing up with his cheeks as he smiled the biggest and happiest smile he could, optics brightening the whole while. It was what he'd wanted more than anything but feared he'd never receive. Unfurling his legs, he leaned down just a tad to get closer. Heedless to everything about himself that had bothered him so much, he spoke softly in return.

"I really like you too."

"I know." You replied softly, looking to the brush that had fallen to the floor and the paint still drying on his frame as an idea hatched in your head. The two of you had a lot to talk about, it seemed, and you had the perfect way to pass the time while doing so. "Now, how about I help you finish up? Don't want all this to go to waste."

Realizing what you were suggesting, he picked up a much smaller paintbrush and handed it to you, still smiling as he helped you onto his desk where the paints laid out for use.

"I'd like that."

#ambulon #ambulon x reader #transformers #maccadam #tf #idw #more than meets the eye #mtmte #lost light #human reader #self insert #my writing #requests #my asks #anon

[eqt-95]

One Night in Gotham

Summary | On the eve of taking over as the CEO of L-Corp, Lena Luthor makes a trip across the bay to Gotham to see an old friend.

-----

"Now what is a delicate flower like you doing all alone at the bar?"

Lena stifled a sigh of annoyance at the brazenness of strangers. This kind of thing wouldn't happen in Metropolis.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Lena silently lifted her glass, indicating none was required.

Her eyes flitted up toward the bartender distracted by another patron, and she wondered for a moment how this man had been allowed into the private hotel bar. This was interrupted by the sound of the high-back chair next to her scraping against the marble flooring followed by the creak of the stranger posting up next to her. He reeked of booze and sounded winded by the exertion of the simple gesture.

"Well then perhaps I'll just buy myself a drink and enjoy the view," he smiled, exposing yellow-stained teeth behind the grizzly shag that covered his cheeks and chin.

No, this kind of thing would never happen in Metropolis.

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Free country, honey," he chuckled into a cough that echoed with the wetness of two packs a day.

Lena was used to all kinds of people. Although few and far between some were genuinely kind. Some were naive fools who could be talked out of house and home. Others were snake-oil salesmen, hiding behind earnestness. And then there were those who lacked any sort of self-awareness, boldly trying to claim what wasn't theirs in the process. These were the kind of people she'd spent the last few weeks battling, and she was exhausted from it.

She opened her mouth to articulate how unwelcome his presence was when a warm hand landed on her shoulder.

"Hey babe," came a voice behind her, and Lena smirked.

"Darling, you made it," Lena replied, turning in her seat toward the tall figure clad in leather with a helmet dangling from one hand.

"Sorry I'm late," came an apology.

Before Lena could play it off, she was caught by the feel of lips were pressed against her own. She peripherally heard the clatter of the helmet land on the bar before two warm hands slid up, cupping her face and turning the quick kiss into something more entirely. Initial surprise faded into confusion which then faded into the warm, flush lips on hers and the tongue greedily fighting for something more. She gave in on instinct, and was rewarded with the slight nip against her bottom lip and the unfamiliar taste of Kate Kane.

Whether time had suspended or continued to tick away, Lena wasn't certain, but when Kate finally pulled back and their eyes met she felt an unexpected warmth at the mischief glowing back at her.

"Can I help you?" Kate asked, finally breaking from Lena and turning to the stranger.

His face had frozen, stuck in a contorted look of envy and disgust. "N-no."

"No? Great," Kate continued smoothly. "Do you mind though? Because you're in my seat."

Lena glanced back at her half-empty drink trying to contain the smile that threatened to break at the man's discomfort. A few begrudging seconds passed before the figure folded and heaved himself out of the chair, sauntering off toward the far, empty end of the bar.

The long fingers that had just sent Lena's cheeks flush slid around her glass, lifting it to her nose before smirking and tossing the rest back.

"You have good taste," Kate remarked, setting the empty glass back down and waving over the bartender.

"Do you normally use that much tongue?"

"I was trying to make a point."

"I think a hug would have sufficed plenty."

"This is Gotham. We're more animalistic here; nothing like your fancy Metropolis folk," Kate smirked, ordering another pair of Scotches. "You can't mince words otherwise you leave them with deranged hope."

"That's not my problem."

"It isn't until you're leaving at the end of the night and get yanked into a dark alley because he's been lingering for hours taking that last remaining thread of hope and weaving it into some deep-seeded, confounding belief that you were meant for him."

"Speaking from experience?"

Kate shrugged.

"So instead you go for a full make-out session in the middle of a very public hotel bar."

"You're a quick study, Luthor."

Lena hummed impatiently.

"Besides, now I've got something to strike off my bucket list."

"What's that?"

"Lena Kieran Luthor kissed me."

"I'd hardly say that. I believe you instigated, and I was struck in a moment of surprise."

"I think the word you're looking for is 'wooed'. I wooed you."

A stoic look with a hint of skepticism stared back at Kate.

"How long have we known each other?"

"I think that depends on what you mean by 'known'."

"And in all those years," Kate continued, ignoring Lena's analytical response, "how many times have you been floored by my charm?"

"Never once. Not even in the slightest," Lena deadpanned.

Kate scoffed in exaggerated disbelief. "You have, you're just too uptight to have any fun. What about that time I punched Lex?"

"I was eight."

"Your point?"

"Mostly I was mortified."

"I bet that's even the word you used to describe it. Did you walk out of the womb a genius?"

"You joke, but Mother was outraged. To this day she practically spits whenever she hears the Kane name."

"Is she still alive?" Kate smirked into her glass. "It's not my fault she raised such an egotistical snob. Beth told him 'no' a dozen times. If he couldn't hear words, I figured he could hear a fist crushing his nose."

"That's not how he tells it."

"Because he can point to so much precedent for honesty," Kate replied dryly. Lena felt herself flinch, and Kate's demeanor softened. "Sorry."

"He wasn't always an ass."

"Sometimes people just… spiral."

"Speaking of, are you back for good?"

Kate shook her head. "Just passing through."

"Special occasion?"

"A wedding," she answered, quickly draining the rest of her drink.

"Was it nice?"

"Don't know." The empty glass was lifted toward the bartender. "Just leave the bottle."

This was the part of Kate that Lena loved and hated. They were both raised in over-sized homes with curated lifestyles and a litany of archaic topics they could talk endlessly about, but the concept of speaking about their personal lives was a loss to both of them. It was a familiar feeling that echoed deep into Lena's core, and she took no offense to Kate's aloofness - she was cut from the same cloth.

"Where to next?"

"France," she answered.

"Sounds romantic."

"Sure," Kate chuckled at some unspoken joke.

"Does anyone else actually know you're in town?"

Kate shook her head again.

"You've been away for a while."

"Miss me?" Kate smirked, and Lena saw the telltale signs of deflection through humor. Yes, they were practically carbon copies of each other. Different around the edges, but traces of the same upbringing formed matching foundations.

"Haven't had the time."

It was honesty that would seem cryptic to anyone else, but Kate nodded in understanding.

They sat in silence for a moment, Kate shuffling the glass across the smooth, lacquered finish of the bar.

"When do you-"

"Next week," Lena interrupted with a practiced tone.

"Nervous?"

"I am excited about the potential of-" Lena began before catching Kate's unamused expression. It was enough to silence the curated response she'd spouted for weeks to reporters, board members, and potential funders. "Yes."

It was a single word, but it was an admission she'd kept contained in a tiny box under the mountain of to-dos that guided her days and late nights. She glanced down at the dwindling drink in front of her, suddenly appreciative Kate had the foresight to keep the bottle.

"Good," Kate replied, now swirling the glass between her fingers.

"Good?"

"I'd be worried if you weren't."

"That's not how some would see it."

"Lillian doesn't really get a say."

"Mother isn't the only resistance. God knows I've stopped trying to prove anything to her, but it's more than just her now. It's board members. It's the public. It's the very people employed by the company. I am… I am not ready for this."

Lena didn't know where the admission was coming from, but now it felt like a spigot had been pulled open, and every reservation she had about becoming the youngest CEO of a Fortune 500 company.

"I'm 22," she said, and it felt like a confession - like no one had uncovered this hidden truth about Lena, and she was one big headline away from the rug being pulled from under her.

"You know what I was doing when I was 22?" Kate asked, preemptively refilling Lena's drink. "I was getting kicked out of school and spending my nights bouncing from one dive bar to another."

"I'm not sure what your point is, but I think it serves my argument better than yours," Lena scowled. "22 year-olds shouldn't be in charge of anything."

"My point is, you're not normal," Kate clarified. "If I was asked to run a company at 22, I'd be an idiot not to run in the opposite direction. But that's because I was a normal 22 year-old. One hundred percent of the world was a normal 22 year-old."

"Again, I'm not sure your argument is-"

"The reason it's one hundred percent is because I'm rounding. I'd need to rattle off, like, a hundred nines to make my point. You're the one in seven billion meant to do this."

"Seven."

"What?"

"Seven nines. After the decimal."

Kate stared dumbly for a moment before breaking in laughter. "You really are a freak. And you've just made my point for me."

"Mental math isn't a reason."

"No, but your persistence is."

"Haven't you heard? I'm a Luthor; can't be trusted."

Kate sighed, and Lena watched her mentally struggle to find the words to say. It was different than other times Lena had met Kate. Granted, they weren't close. After Lex's nose was bloodied and Lillian's disdain made known, the Kanes and Luthors rarely interacted. From that point on, the majority of their interactions were limited to formal galas and parties of similarly rich families, bouncing from one side of the bay to the other in their efforts to impress the extents of their wealth onto others. Kate always had a knack for slipping out and getting into some sort of trouble while Lena was petrified at the thought of disappointing Lillian.

When Kate's sister and mother died, Lena 'had the audacity' to ask if they would attend the funerals. Lillian refused, but Lex persuaded her otherwise, suggesting that it would be politically good to show sympathy for the Kane family. It was perverse but worked, and Lena was eternally grateful. It was that dark day that struck up an uncanny relationship between the Kane and the Luthor.

It had been nearly three years since their paths had crossed - the longest stretch of time since Kate was thirteen and Lena ten. Lena knew Kate's absence was due to world-traveling, but the details were sparse. Whispers at the latest galas spoke of general disappointment for the Kane daughter. Like Lena, Kate was the black sheep. Unlike Lena, Kate didn't seem to care.

"You're a Luthor, yes," Kate began. "You're honestly from a pretty shitty family. I have first-hand experience, and even without that the headlines have done a damn good job at making the average person aware of it. The company is in shatters, Lex is going to prison, and Lillian isn't human. I mean, she's really truly terrible. Like… is she human? Because when we were kids, I half wondered."

"That's not really-"

"Hang on, I'm getting off topic," Kate waved away. "Yes, you're a Luthor. Yes, the world is against you. Yes, it'll be hard; I won't even pretend to know how you'll do it, but you will. I also know I'm not saying anything you can't deduce on your own. I won't waste our time with talk of your talent, your genius, your raw determination, or the sacrifices you're making to turn Lex's sins into something good. Those reassurances mean nothing to you because you aren't ready to see it yet, and I'm not the person who can help you hear it."

"That's not even remotely close to advice, not to mention helpful advice."

"I didn't say it would be advice or helpful. If it was, I'd charge you for it."

"Are you offering?"

"Are you paying?"

"Depends on the advice."

"Clever. We'll make a decent CEO out of you yet."

Conversation flowed more easily from there. The edges were softened and the curated exteriors peeled back as the bottle slowly dwindled into nothing. The void of years spent apart was slowly filled in with stories of failures, happy accidents, lovers, and reminiscing.

There was an easy comfort with Kate that always took hold; she wasn't trying to pretend to be anything special and there were never any expectations. It made for a breath of fresh air when Lena's world revolved around accuracy, planning ahead, and keeping face. Kate lived life like a game of casual checkers. Lena lived her's for the chess match it was. But for one night, on the eve of her formally stepping into her new life, she played checkers.

Lena should have known better than to assume the interaction would end after a single drink, and she was only slightly surprised when the bartender came by with the bill. She looked around realizing the bar had emptied; for how long it had been just the two of them she didn't know. She also didn't care.

They paid the tab but lingered a while longer, fighting off the real world for a few precious moments until finally, the staff politely advised that, while they didn't have to go home, they couldn't stay here.

"You aren't driving, right?" Lena asked, gesturing at the helmet left forgotten on the bar.

"No, 'here' is home tonight," Kate replied lightly, albeit with a slight slur.

"I'm sure your dad would like to see you."

"Jacob would like a lot of things."

Lena nodded, recognizing the window had closed.

"Any chance I can woo you again, Ms. Luthor?" Kate asked with a cheesy smirk. "I've got a fancy suite with a bed and stuff."

Yes, the light-heartedness was still there but it fell into their respective roles.

"That's your pick-up line? I expected more from you."

Kate pondered for a moment. "Ok, how about this: I wasn't sure if you were a beautiful angel or a sexy devil, but now that I'm close, I see heaven in your eyes."

"Does that actually work?"

"Fifty-fifty? A guy used it on me once."

"And?"

"Well, obviously it didn't work with him, but I tried it a few nights later… and, yea," Kate smirked, "it worked."

"Years at Military school, and you didn't lose an ounce of confidence," Lena sighed, tossing back the rest of her own drink and grabbing her jacket.

The entrance came far too quickly, and the door swung open to reveal the murkiness of the city night beyond.

"Huh, it's raining," Kate said, gesturing for Lena to exit ahead of her.

"It's pouring."

"It's Gotham."

"It never rains this much in Metropolis." Lena mumbled it in frustration, trying to excuse her lack of preparedness to the foreignness of her surroundings.

The sound of a soft click and thwoop came, followed by an invisible shield deflecting the incoming rain drops. Lena glanced up and saw the city was blocked out by a stretch of black fabric.

"How are you getting back?" Kate asked, holding the handle of the umbrella suspended over them.

"My driver should be here in a minute."

Kate whistled softly, muted by the avalanche of raining falling around them. "Fancy CEO privileges."

Lena forced a smile, feeling the familiar pull of stress and weight of worry return to her shoulders. She glanced back at the hotel lobby; the warm light, the soft chairs, the comforting sting of alcohol, and the laughter. For a moment she had forgotten, and in this moment she wanted to forget again.

"You'll be great. And I hope one day you'll find someone who can get you to see who you are Lena. You're a Luthor, yes, but you're so much more than a name."

Lena's eyes were pulled back to the voice next to her, and she found herself staring into Kate's piercing green eyes. Even through the haze of alcohol they were focused and confident. Focused was something Lena was very familiar with; confidence though? Hardly. Years of Lillian's cutting words had stripped her of that. But in depriving her of it, she'd acquired something better: persistence.

Kate's gaze didn't waver. Instead something else appeared, and it took all of Lena's brain to comprehend what it was: it was admiration. It was unfamiliar, and if it weren't for years of being trained as a Luthor, she'd have averted her eyes to the nearest distraction.

"If you're ever in National City, give me a ring."

"And if you're ever back in Gotham-"

"Unlikely."

"-immediately turn around and leave," Kate finished, and Lena felt her lips fight against her facade to curl into a smile at the deprecating humor. "Besides, I won't be around so who is there to see?"

"I'm sure any one of the millions of Gothamites would be a suitable substitute for Kate Kane."

"At least you didn't include the entire world."

"Only because you didn't offer," Lena shot back, and for a moment the masks fell back off, and they let laughter be swallowed into the city around them.

It settled when a black car slowed to a stop in front of them, and Lena felt the tug of life return.

"As usual, you've gotten me tipsier than I'd planned, Kate Kane."

"It was my pleasure Lena Luthor," Kate smiled, reaching for the car door and swinging it open.

Lena hesitated, feeling the wash of new car smell and air conditioning waft from the car and mix with the city and humidity. Her fingers gripped the edge of the door, feeling the drips of water mix with the dirt that had accumulated.

She didn't know the words to say to express her appreciation. Kindness wasn't something she'd been exposed to and so never quite knew how to articulate the swirling, changing web of emotions that fought to be seen. A life of compartmentalizing had cast these feelings off into the tiniest of boxes in the shadow of her mind, and she knew that a week from now the warmth and friendship she felt tonight would be a distant memory. It wasn't enough to change her, but it was enough to remind her that she could.

"Thank you," she said before stretching up on her toes to close the gap between her lips and Kate's cheek, leaving a soft kiss and silencing Kate before she could cast back a signature sarcastic response. "Now you can strike it off your bucket list."

- eqt_95 on ao3

#Batwoman #supergirl #kate kane #lena luthor #kate & lena #fanfic #oneshot #crossover

[alexandenigtscreations]

Chapters: 5/7 Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel Summary:

Juno Steel and Peter Nureyev make a good team. But when a bank job goes horribly wrong, the injured pair are forced to lay low and hope the Carte Blanche can make it back to them in time.

(Note: Bold Italic script indicates Nureyev speaking Brahmese) 

Chapter 5

“God Damnit Thief!  Pick up your damned coms when the bloody doctor calls!"

"Again, apologies Vespa, I-" he coughed weakly into his hand, tripoding over his knees.

"Do you know how many times I had to call you?  Do you?"  

Nureyev sighed "Afraid not-"

"Seven !  Seven goddamn times!  Thought you were dead !  Or Steel!  Or captured or whatever!  We're in enough crap as it is without you two adding to the pile!"

“Vespa, I-”

“If you say you’re sorry one more time, Thief; I swear to god I’ll snap your scrawny neck!"

"I'm-" he caught himself mid apology, "Understood-"

"I haven't heard Steel's voice, where is he?"

"Juno's- sleeping." Which is what he himself had been doing up to the moment Vespa rang. Stupid- a rookie mistake-

"Oh?  And how sure are you of that thief?"

Nureyev wiped the sweat off of his face, "I'm sure-" it had been the first thing he checked when the beeping of the comms woke him.  Even from here he could see the frantic rise and fall of Juno's chest.  The lady wasn't doing well.  

"Completely."  He coughed harder into an elbow.

Vespa sniff on the other end of the line.  Plainly suspicious, but that was nothing new.

"Fine, now you're on, we can get back to business…."  There was a clatter outside, his head snapped towards it ".... temperature down, or it can cause…." and another- "gotta make sure he's in the recovery…" and another and confound it all Nureyev, focus!  He shook himself back to the conversation just in time for Vespa to say "Did you get that Thief?"

"Hmm?  I ugh-" he floundered.  No, no he had not gotten it, and was just about to say so when he heard voices-

Lord, not now, please not now-

"Thief?"

Nureyev limped to a window.  Even in the dim light of the street lamps, he could make out the security uniforms of Galactic Stars First Bank.  

No-

Anxiety spiked his chest, making him queasy- or perhaps he already was-

Juno was in danger.  That much, he was certain of.  To say nothing about himself.

He glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping lady.  Even with his features pinched and weary, he was beautiful-  

And vulnerable-

Plans began to formulate in his mind.  His first impulse was to find some crevice to hide in, to disappear.  But even with Juno’s help, he only just managed to get him to the sofa last time-  If they were found- well, he didn’t want to find out what they’d do to him.  

“Thief?!”

He could lure the guards inside, dispatch them quickly and save his leg the trouble-  But no, that would be too messy.  To say nothing of Juno’s sensibilities, inviting guards into their hiding spot introduced more blind variables than he’d care to gamble with.

Which left luring them away- Sharp teeth worried away at his bottom lip.  The injury would make things- challenging.  But he didn’t have to be fast.  After all, it was a fool who thought the best getaway vehicle was the fastest-  

What he needed now was a strategy; and to know how many employees he’d have to contend with.  

“God Damnit Ransom, the hell-”

“Apologies Vespa, I need Rita.”

“What?!”

“Ha-How many guards, am I dealing with- Rita?” Nureyev grimaced, pressing his back tight to the apartment's tinker toy brickwork.  Rita’s voice was going fuzzy around the edges, as though muffled.

It had been harder than anticipated to pick his way past the patrolling guards, yet alone work his way out of the safe house.

“Two, maybe four in your sector Mista Ransom.”

“Which is it? ”

“Hugh?”

“Which is it?  The- er- two, or the four?” there was a throb of pain that made his breath hitch.  Along with that ever present burning, biting its way deep.  

“Not sure but- are- are you alright Mista Ransom?”

“I- am a tad worse for wear.  Which is why I’d like to resolve this matter quickly.”

“Ohhh, ohh right!  Well Rita can help with that!”

“Thank you Rita.  Now- which way to the two or four individuals?”

He allowed Rita to guide him through the quiet streets.  She informed him that a dome wide lockdown had been initiated while the intruders were at large.  Sure enough, when he tried a few doors in passing, they refused to yield under his touch.  The citizens took the lockdown seriously.  

Nureyev made sure to make plenty of noise. He needed a show if he wanted this plan to work.  What worried him was that he was only half acting as he stumbled his way over the cobbles on a stiff leg.  He allowed himself to knock into bins and topple items into cars.  The noise he raised wasn’t loud, per say, but it was conspicuous on the quiet streets.  

“Where are these guards Rita?”

“They’ll be coming up any minute Mista Ransom, you just keep your eyes Peeled!  Make a right up here-” she directed “Peeled, hugh, ever consider what a weird thing it is to say.  That you should keep your eyes peeled?   I mean you do that and your eyes ain't gonna be good no more, least of all you.  Oh!  But there was this one stream where the monster worked its way out of a beautiful man!  Which was such a waist but what do I know about streams?  And its eyes were doing this crazy-”

“Any- minute?” he was starting to have doubts about using his own injured self as bait. He filed that deep in his mind.

“What?  Oh!  Yeah!  You got some baddies commin’ up right behind you.”

“Behind- Are you sure?” he panted.  

“Yeah of course I’m sure Mista Ransom!”

A quick turn confirmed Rita’s intel.  He was indeed being followed.  

They shouted something at his back, and Nureyev picked up his pace to a skip-hop, while his pursuers broke into a run.   A plasma bolt shot past his ear, sending a jolt of adrenaline through.  In answer he flipped over several barrels.  They cascaded into the small space, messing the ally nicely.  That should slow them down some.  It had to.

There was no time to pay attention to the ache of his lungs or the fire coursing through his leg.  Even as each step pushed him that much closer to being physically ill.  

File it away, Damn you- just file it away-

He screwed his eyes shut and pushed forward.  Forcing himself to keep moving, to keep breathing, to keep-

He plowed headlong into an old chain link fence with enough force to knock him to the ground with a strangled cry.  The traitorous links rattled and clinked all the way up to their restraints.  As if to add insult to injury, they stretched maybe ten, fifteen feet in the air.  There wasn’t a hope of making it over before his acquaintances caught up.  

“Mista Ransom?!” Rita sounded scared, she’d even stopped typing.  “What happened?”

“There’s-” he coughed “There’s a- barrier- ” There was another word, a better word, but he couldn’t for the life of him think of it.  It was taking all his effort to push upright on shaking arms, threading his fingers into the wire mesh to haul himself to his feet.  

“A barrier?  Like a wall or a buildin’ or somethin?  None of that is showing up on my schema-”

“A fence- Is there another way round?”  He took a moment to catch his breath.

“I’m sorry but, there isn’t anythin’ on the map.  Ya gotta get to the other side before ya have options.  Can’t you like, break through or somethin?”

Break through, of course, Nureyev could kick himself; it was so simple.  He extracted one of his plasma cutters from a pocket, heat humming through the blade.  In the end, it wasn’t even a good fence.  The blade made quick work of the links, slicing through them as one might margarine.  

Another blaster shot forced him through the cherry red ruin of a hole before it had a chance to cool.  He brought his arm up, shielding his face even as the sharp edges racked along his coat, hitting his leg- he hissed, nausea threatening to overtake him.  

“Mista Ransom?”

He scrambled to the other side, barely keeping upright.  

“Mista Ransom!  You’ve got more company comin’ straight at you!”

“What-” his voice cracked in exhaustion.  Through the gloom, he could just make out the second pair barreling down the narrow passage.  He could hear them barking orders at him now, probably instructing him to surrender or other such nonsense that he had no intention of following.  

“They’ve brought reinforcements!  They’re gonna’ block your escape roots!”

“Reinforcements?”

“There’s at least four more heading straight at you!”

Nureyev glanced back and spotted the first pair shoving through the debris.  Then that would make six-  Six on one, he didn’t like those odds.  A wrong step sent a jolt through him, his weakened leg nearly buckling under his weight sending him into a wall.  Again the world went fuzzy, blood rushing to his ears.

He wondered if the Carte Blanche really would come back for him if he’d got captured.  Something made him doubt it even as he shoved the ugly thought deep into a file.  

Think Nureyev.

Time, he needed time.  A had drifted to the modest arsenal on his chest.  There were a few smoke bombs he hadn’t touched, but the situation called for something more dire-

He plucked a pepper grenade from the clip, lobbing it over the fence with the practiced ease of one who’d spent hours on throwing knives.  Smoke tracked it’s flight through the air.  It struck the ground at the guard’s feet.  They yelled, scrambling back just as it erupted.  The choking fumes swallowed them in seconds.  

Nureyev was no longer paying mind to them, attention bent entirely at the remaining guards.  Four on one were more....manageable.  

He rushed the closest set, drawing a twin to his first blade wheeling them in tandem.  The man was no fighter, as soon as he got into their space, the man shrank back, his blaster forgotten.  

A tingling burn flushed across exposed skin making his heart plummet.  He’d made a mistake.  Nureyev hadn't accounted for the wind-

Spurred by the change in fortune, Nureyev dispatched the man quickly; maneuvering out of the way as he crumpled.  Life’s blood spilled over the cobbles soon obscured by smoke.

Smoke?  

Twisting and contorting, the smoke seemed to grow till it engulfed everything in its path.  Pouring down the cramped space.  The remaining guards tried to run, but were soon overtaken, same as the Thief.

Nureyev's throat closed against the onslaught.  He gagged and coughed over the very air, vision hopelessly obscured by tears.  The only good news was that he could hear his attackers do the same.  Panic began to fog his reason.  

He no longer noticed the burning of his skin or eyes, or the way his nose was running; no longer could feel the pain in his leg.  He couldn’t breathe, he couldn't breathe .  The single thought spun round and round in his brain, desperately trying to figure a way around it.  He clung to the wall with every ounce of strength he possessed.  The coughing picked up even harder now till his chest crushed in like a deflated balloon.

Try as he will, his lungs would not expand.  There was simply no more air.

“Mista Ransom?” Rita, in the coms!  Rita who was still very much with him.  There was hope!  

Just then a hand clenched around a fistful of his hair, dragging Nureyev lower still.  He’d been found, even in a place like this, they’d still found him.  The employees of Galactic Stars First Bank were more like his creditors than Nureyev liked.  Even now she was growling at him in anger.  

Though he couldn’t understand the language, he knew she was asking questions.  Her breaths were short and forced yet still she managed to talk.  Had he not been in the grips of fear, he would have found her admirable.  

“Mista Ransom?!”

Through his bleary eyes, he could make out the cyan glow of a blaster pointed down under his nose.  She meant to shoot him, but was hesitating.  At any other time, he'd wonder why-  Instead he reached up to claw, to cling at her wrist, still with a grip on his knives.  She twisted and he bowed lower, leg quaking, his hand slipped and-

“Ah!” she squealed as his plasma blade bit into her arm, flinging  him back to a wall.  The impact miraculously forced air back into his lungs.  Though as soon as he got it, his body started to cough it back up.  Furiously he clapped a hand over his mouth, trying to hold it in.

It didn't work.

“Mista Ransom!” If Rita had sounded scared before, that was nothing compared to now.  Her voice was small and tentative in a way that would break any heart.  Even so, he latched onto her voice with everything he was worth.  

The light of the guard's weapon danced before him.  She may have been hurt, but she wasn’t down yet.  What’s worse was that she seemed to be calling for backup.  

The blade sang out of his fingers, digging itself into her thigh. This time she screamed and hacked, scrambling for the off switch while Nureyev made his escape.  It hadn't been where he'd been aiming, but close enough.  With any luck, she'd have trouble moving for a time.  

“R-ita-” he choked out, managing tiny gasps, every one a massive effort.

“What’s going on!  Have you been Gassed!!!!!” thank stars he would not have to explain.

“Y-yes-” he gave into a violent coughing fit.

“Oh-Okay, you need me to show you the way out!”

“Yes-” the fight had turned him around, making it impossible to tell which way to go.  He wanted to be free of the smoke as soon as possible.

“Can Do!  Oh!  This is just like one of those Spy streams like- well, never mind that right now.  Alright Mista Ransom, I’m gonna need you to move forwards about a hundred meters.” She instructed conspiratorially.  He obliged, thankful to leave the thinking to her.  Using the wall to keep him straight.  “Be careful when you reach the fork!” she cautioned “The passage on your left has a few baddies, the one on your right is clear!”  

On his right- he could just make out two voids stretching before him.  Stealing his resolve he propelled himself right and mercifully broke through the miasma.  He crashed into a dumpster, nearly running smack into the center of another set of guards.  

It had been the wrong way.  

There would be no time to recover, no time for rest.  Furiously he wiped his eyes and gulped down recycled air.  

Rita shrieked in his ear, “Not your right, my right!” but he had no choice but to tune her out.  

The fresh opponent rushed him, their partner charging their blaster.  Nureyev stumbled back towards the smoke, just managing to use his attacker’s momentum to spin them round into their partner.  Their partner roared, firing shots off at random as they fell.  Blaster spun out of their grip on impact.  A stray bolt savaged one of Nureyev’s coat pockets, scattering it’s contents on the stones.  Hopefully there wouldn’t have been anything important in there.  

Nureyev readjusted his knife grip and threw at the tangle of limbs.  One of the figures stilled.  He hobbled towards them as fast as he could, retrieving the blade.  He’d already lost one and that was one too many.  

It was a mistake.

Pain shot through his leg making him cry out.  He fell hard separated anew from his weapon.  He’d been struck down by the spare guard.  They spat words that were sure to be insults as they disentangled themselves from the motionless body.

Nureyev gasped, twisting away towards the fallen blaster.  It had landed some distance away, but one advantage of long limbs was reach-  The guard growled and caught his foot, drawing him backwards.  He kicked out and the hands clawed higher.  It seemed they both were trying for the same weapon.

"Let go- " Nureyev bit out attempting to dislodge the guard.

"Never, scum- " they shot back in perfect Brahmese.  Before that could sink in, fingers jammed into his bandages, into the wound-  Nureyev keened, paralyzed by the shock of it.  

First rule of thriving Pete, you can't afford to be loud.

Rita shrieked all the louder.  Nureyev was at once hot and cold and utterly overwhelmed..  He knew he was hurt, thank you, he knew it!  He could do without the constant reminders.  

The guard made use of their opportunity by clambering over Nureyev.  Hand planted on his spine, pushing him down.  The thief refused to let it be that easy; scanning for something, anything he could use-

There!

His pocket knife!  

Nureyev’s arm shot out, scooping up the tool and flicking it open.  He twisted, simultaneously throwing them off and swiping upwards.  The blade bit into cloth and flesh.  They reared back startled, leaving Nureyev to wriggle free.  On hands and knees he scrambled to the blaster.  

Nureyev may not have the skills of a certain lovely sharp shooter, but at a distance like this, he couldn't miss.  

The stunner went straight to their chest and all went quiet.  He folded over, resting his forehead on the damp of the grimy street, forcing down bile once more.

"Mista Ransom!!!  Oh Mista Ransom!  Are you there?  Please say you're there, cuz I'm not sure how I could face the boss if I…."

"Rita-"

"....got you blown up or somethin, cuz know I'd miss you oh so much but Boss- oh I couldn't imagine-"

"I'm- ha- I'm fine- Rita-" he tried again, louder this time.  His voice was thick and rough, entirely unlike the persona he’d been so careful to maintain around the crew.

There was a loud clatter from the other end and a sharp intake of breath.  It sounded as though Rita knocked something over "Mista Ransom!  You ought to feel ashamed!  Scaring a girl like that!  Don’t you know that-" she cut off abruptly “Ugh oh, Mista Ransom!  You gotta get out of there, stat!  There are reinforcements on the way and I don't think they are too happy!”

Nureyev groaned and thanked Rita.  He supposed it was a lucky thing that he was so averse to capture.  It had been a long time since cold stone had been so welcoming.  

“What are you waiting’ for Mista Ransom?”

“N-nothing- Rita.  Merely -becoming acquainted with the cobble work.” he murmured.  In truth, he was drained to his core.  His head was spinning, body aching, leg burning and he was just so- thirsty.  There was at least something he could do about the last one, but not for a while, and not without getting up.  The entire distraction had taken far more out of him than anticipated.  

“Mista Ransom, you know I don’t speak nothin but Solar-” she started, but he wasn’t listening.  

Distraction.  His mind snagged on the word.

That was right, he was luring Galactic Star’s First Bank away from Juno.  Juno, gorgeous, wonderful Juno who’d taken a poison dart for him, who needed him right now.  

Nureyev had to get back to him, no matter what.  

In the end, Nureyev had trusted Rita to guide him back to the safe house.  She’d insisted after he nearly ran into another set of guards.  He was too tired to fight.  More than once considering folding himself up into a corner and waiting for the excitement to die down.  Moving in the open like this- didn't sit well with him.  

It took a lot longer to return to the grubby street of the safe house, and longer still to check and recheck he hadn’t been followed or bugged.  

“Thank you again- Rita-”  Privately he vowed to do something nice for her if and when they’d return to the ship.

“Oh and Mista Ransom?”

“Hm?”

“Take care of yourself, alright?  Ya make Mista Steel real happy- and- and I want ya both back in one piece okay?”

Nureyev was taken aback for a moment, mind blanking over the words.  It was- touching, and he had no idea what to do with that.  

He cleared his throat.  “I will do everything in my power to make that happen.” and he meant it.  

[Special thanks to Scarlet_Trust who got me excited about this again.  Please, Please go over and read their wonderful works!]

#tpp #the penumbra podcast #junoverse #jupeter #juno steel #peter nureyev #fic #AlexandeNight #whump #hurt/comfort #tw blood #tw nausea #tw killing #tw fights #Nureyev is a baddass #my writing #fanfic

[hot-wiings]

The One Where You're Stuck At A Work Christmas Party, But At Least You Have Your Cute, Charming Coworker At Your Side.

Edited: 12-8-2020

"Would you like to pay for that upfront, or at the end of the night?"

“Isn't this an open bar party?”

You stared at the bartender with confounded and bewildered eyes and she nervously shifted as she stood, her eyes looking at the counter, occasionally glancing at other people at the bar avoiding your eyes. You took one strong whiff in her general direction and you could get a good reading on her aura, her feelings.

Molten Cheese; Anxiety. Rotten Eggs; Nervousness. Formaldehyde; Fear. 

It was your quirk that gave you such access to her vibes. You could smell emotions and feelings, provided you were within smelling distance then you could release your on pungent scents and alter someone's emotions, however, the stronger the emotions of a person then sometimes it would alter your mood. When you were younger you couldn't understand it, you didn't understand these feelings you felt or why you could smell people so strongly, as you got older you realized what each scent meant, the more pungent the stronger the feeling, the more floral meant someone was in a positive mood, and the more putrid meant they were the latter. 

“I’m sorry ma’am, this is not an open bar.  I can make a tab for you...”

You had to roll your eyes. Your company was probably the only company not to spring for an open bar for a Christmas party. You knew it was to discourage drinking, but they had to understand, as a hero, you dealt with a lot of things on your average day. The people you don't save, the countless lives that were waste and killed, children and the elderly, the horrors you saw on the battlefield. Sometimes you needed to let loose from all it, and whom more responsible to drink than a party full of heroes? Your bosses would digress.

Of course, none of this was the bartender's fault, and you felt slightly bad for getting upset after you smelled her aroma. She was young, obviously new to her job, and nervous to be dealing with alcoholics and tipsy people for the first time. Even if everyone here was probably a hero, it could still be very daunting. You never knew how someone would react under the influence, especially someone you didn't personally know.

“This is your first day on the job isn't it?”

“Is it that obvious? It's not just my first day, it's my first job.”

The girl nervously chuckled while she scratched the back of her neck, still nervously avoiding your eyes. You tapped your foot against the floor, her strong nerves beginning to affect your mood, and take over your nervous system. This was a great quirk to use on the field, especially in hostage situations, it helped you understand villains and easily sway their decision to harm people, but your mood was so easily affected by other negative emotions. It was so draining to try and change someone's mood to stop you from being affected, you changed one person, and soon three negative auras replacing it.

“That explains a lot, you're perfume is so pungent."

"Oh! You're the smelly hero, oh gosh- I- uh..."

Her eyes lit up as she realized who you were and she smiled, but the smile quickly faded as she realized what she had called you. It wasn't the first time someone realized who you were and it wouldn't be the last but never had someone so horribly botched your hero name. Maybe it was the nerves, the anxiety, the embarrassment, and every strong negative emotion she was feeling being absorbed up into your mood, but you felt completely mortified. You felt embarrassed with her and suddenly, you were crossed with the anxious thought about whether that's what your coworker called you behind your back. You wanted to cry. It was so irrational, but that's what her vibes were making you feel.

Christmas Cookies; Joy. Pine Trees; Relaxation. Candy Canes; Energetic.

The new smells engulfed you. They surrounded you as if you were inside a bakery. They entered your lungs, with each breath out and each new intake of oxygen it was there, you couldn't escape it and you didn't want to. It was distinctly joyful, distinctly happy and laidback, distinctly him. No matter how his smells changed on a day to day basis, you would recognize his scent anywhere. It was so pungent, so strong, and you could smell a lingering scent of the ocean. The smells wrapped you up and shifted your mood, they took away every negative emotion coursing through your body and replaced it with those of positivity.

You looked over your shoulder with a smile on your face as you spotted him. The Stun Gun Hero: Charge Bolt. He had a grin on his face as he sauntered over to you at the bar and occupied the barstool next to you.

"Sunset rum for the lady, on me."

The woman scurried away to make the drink with an embarrassed blush on her cheeks. You turned to Denki and smiled. You didn't know if it was purely lack of brain cells, or what, but the man was always grinning. He was always smiling, he was always happy. Even on bad days, even when battling villains he seemed to reek of dopamine, serotonin, happy endorphins. You didn't know how he did it, but you were grateful for it. On days when you were stuck in the office doing paperwork or studying up on the villains you were tracking down, your coworkers seemed to bring you down. So many negative feelings from different people took hold of you, sometimes you couldn't handle all of them at once and you needed to escape it all.

That's when you discovered Denki Kaminari, a faint scent of happiness among the abyss of dark emotions. Sometimes you found yourself craving his scent, sometimes you found yourself just standing outside of his office door, just breathing him in. You were sure he'd find it weird that you stood outside his office door trying to get a whiff of his smell, but it was so much more than that. He helped you feel good, he helped the bad feelings go away and he didn't even know.

"You don't have to pay for my drink."

"But I want to, besides, I can tell you've had a pretty rough day."

“I'd rather be at home, management said I had to come, apparently I'm not social enough, and I need to strengthen my relationships with the other heroes.”

“What a pain. I came for the drinks, didn't realize they weren't free.”

The bartender set down your drink in front of you and you took a swig from it, letting the alcohol wash over your senses as you turned to Denki again. It was a strong drink and you could already feel it taking its toll, but Denki had paid for it, and wouldn't it be rude not to drink it?

“Fuck work parties, am I right?”

“Well, they're not all bad. The foods free, and I'm sitting here with a really beautiful woman.”

A blush makes way across your face, dusting your cheeks a pink color as you turn your gaze back to your drink. You thought about how to reply to his blatant flirting as you swirled the liquid around in your cup. He always threw comments like this towards you. After a training session, after you'd taken down a villain together, when you were stuck in the elevator, and even by the coffee machine. If it was anybody else but Denki, you would've filed a sexual harassment charge, but Denki was so kind and so nice about it. His smell wasn't hostile or putrid, it was always sweet. He never threw these compliments your way when you were alone, he always did it in the presence of others. He did that to avoid making you uncomfortable by giving you flirtatious attention alone, but you always took it as ungenuine feelings, but he did it so often, and so kindly, perhaps he did mean his words. Maybe it was his feelings affecting yours, or maybe it was the alcohol, but you flirted back in your own coy way.

“True’ and I have the pleasure of having the company of such a charming, handsome man.”

Denki lightly chucked at your words, flattered and surprised you flirted back. Through all his time knowing you, you just blushed and thanked him for the compliment. Truthfully, he was ready to give up on his attempts, but you had never told him you didn't like his subtle advances. His chuckle only increased the blush on your cheeks. You brought your cup up to your lips and emptied the remainder of the contents down your throat, letting the liquid courage wash over you completely, enhancing your sense of smell and making you slightly tipsy. You always had been a lightweight, and how were you to know sunset rum was eighty percent alcohol, that's sixteen times the amount of the average beer.

“So I- Are you okay?”

Your eyes were closed, making you look asleep. Leaning closer to Denki, trying to get a better whiff of him, you were practically falling out of your barstool. Denki stood up from his stool and gently pushed you back into yours so you wouldn't fall, but instead, you gripped onto his jacket and pulled him closer to you.

“I’m fine! You just- God! You smell like Christmas!”

Denki would have blushed or laughed at your words, but your tone had gotten louder and your words were slightly slurred. You were obviously drunk, or at least seriously tipsy. If he had known you were such a lightweight he would've ordered you a lighter drink. 

“Ma’am, can I have water?”

“Sure.”

“I don't need water, I'm not drunk.”

“Right, you want to jump my bones sober then?”

Your hands were still gripping Denki's jacket and your nose was in his neck, practically hugging him. In your defense, he was the one who made the first move by pushing you back in your chair. 

“I’m not trying to jump your bones! You just smell so good, you always smell good.”

You whined your words out and a deep blush came across Denki as your words entered his ears. Denki would never admit it to anyone, but the real reason he came here tonight was because he heard you would be there. Over the years of working with you, he had developed a small crush. You were so admirable, so amazing. You dedicated your career not to just saving people, but using your quirk to save the criminals, to understanding them and taking them down using pathos rather than violence. 

“I always smell good?”

“Yes! God yes. I love the way you smell, it makes me so happy and warm. Sometimes I walk by your office just to steal some of your serotonin.”

Your confession made Denki smile as the bartender set down a cup of water in front of you. Embarrassment flooded your body as you realized what you had said to him. When you were tipsy you could say some honest things, but this was a deep secret you'd been harboring.

“I shouldn't have drank, I can't believe I said that. I- I should go home.”

You stood up from the stool with your bag in hand, tripping slightly as you went. Denki quickly grabbed onto your wrist and tugged you towards him. Still buzzed, you didn't fight him and tumbled towards his chest. 

"Don't go, you're drunk. If anything happened to you, I wouldn't forgive myself. Have a glass of water."

"This is embarrassing. I'm not being creepy, I swear. Your happy mood, it helps calm me down."

“You know, my flirting isn't meaningless. I think your quirk is neat and special, I think you're neat and special. If smelling me helps you calm down, then by all means, next time come into my office."

You took the glass of water and took tiny little sips to help sober yourself up. A blush spread across your face again, Denki had just indirectly confessed to you. You thought his flirting was meaningless, you thought he didn't really like you like that. You had such a fear of rejection around him, scared he would find your smelling habits weird, but he didn't. You leaned up to Denki again, this time was not to smell him drunkly, but to place a quick, sweet, chaste kiss on his cheek.

"Think you can say all of that to me tomorrow when I'm sober?"

"Depends. Tomorrow's Christmas, do you want to see me tomorrow, or are you going to regret tonight? Regret accepting my drink, regret spending the evening with me."

Denki bit his lip, and a new scent came from him. A foreign one. You had never smelt such a thing coming from him. He had always been so happy, but now you could smell fear, anxiety, everything the waitress reeked of earlier. It appeared you were not the only one with worries and fear of rejection. Lacing your fingers with Denki's, you reassured him the only way your inebriated mind could think of, by using a pickup line.

"You wanna know what I told Santa I wanted for Christmas?"

"Hmm?"

"Told him I wanted you."

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha #x reader #anime x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero #x reader insert #denki x reader #bnha denki x reader #mha denki x reader #kaminari x reader #bnha kaminari x reader #mha kaminari x reader #denki kaminari x reader #bnha denki kaminari x reader #mha denki kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #mha kaminari denki x reader #bnha kaminari denki x reader #kaminari #denki #chargebolt x reader #mha chargebolt x reader #bnha chargebolt x reader #charge bolt x reader #bnha charge bolt x reader #mha charge bolt x reader

[kisskissbanggang]

Death Warmed Up

[<15Min Read/~4K Words - Coffee Shop Au - Felix x Neutral Death!Reader - Fluff, Minor Angst - Dogs, Death, Coffee]

[Originally slated for the skzwriternet Cozy Collab, but here it is! Hope you enjoy.]

Nets: @skzwriternet​ @kwritersworld​

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You stared at the assignment you had found on your desk. This was late… by two years?

The notion was fully ludicrous. Even with a file like this, there was no way that it could reasonably have been delayed by two whole years. Then again, the idea of getting saddled with an interesting case intrigued you. It sort of felt fancy — important, even — to see this in your inbox when you sat at your desk. You flicked through the file again. Felix Lee, 21 years old: living on Borrowed Time since he was 19.

You hadn’t been an Arbiter very long, and you mulled over just how little Borrowed Time you’d really seen since your appointment. There was the tiny old grandmother — Jane, you thought her name was — a matriarch of her household and a staple of her community, but even then her Arbiter, Bill, could only find her a year from scraping together everything he could. He had told you all that when he did finally meet her at the end, he was in tears along with all her family, and she was the only one smiling. The fact that this kid could be afforded two years was a feat in and of itself, to a point that you were morbidly curious who the previous Arbiters were. The most recent was Jisung, a surprising name to find. Jisung was nice, he liked to maintain how he looked when he died in the mid-nineties, nose ring and flannel and all… and he currently worked as a first-level Arbiter, watching day-to-day activities between humans and the world around them. When you got transferred into the department you’d had no idea that he used to be up on this level. The previous Arbiter’s name was Chan: a name you didn’t recognize and had never heard around the office. Whatever had happened, you didn’t want to hear it. You didn’t want to get distracted by excuses. You needed to see for yourself.

◇─◇──◇──🍂──◇──◇─◇

It was a surprisingly balmy autumn afternoon when you finally found the cafe. Even with all the extra instincts and wherewithal you were afforded by your position, you still had to search around for the little coffee bar, a humble cubby hidden away in an alley off a side street in the bustling city. Some trees lined the sidewalk outside and the orange leaves managed to drift on by, and there was a young man sweeping them off the stoop of the cafe before he turned to go back inside. You opened your portfolio and pulled out your file again. You examined it closely. Could that have been him? The guy now cleaning up behind the bar? There was no way that was him. You stepped closer down the alley.

Thankfully, even if the young man in the window did look up, he wouldn’t see you in this plane you were currently occupying. Your body was only as real as your conscious willed it considering you were already dead, and right now you were perfectly content watching the barista bustling about behind the counter. A little old man with smart half-moon glasses waved from where he sat in his cracked leather armchair by a tall bookshelf, getting his attention.

“Felix, dear, could you top me off?”

Well, there, then. This was the guy.

He didn’t seem so special.

Felix didn’t look like his picture. That was your first hint. The photo was always a snapshot of the client at the time the referral was made to Arbitration, and he looked much worse for wear a couple years ago, laying in a hospital bed and hooked up to a spiderweb of tubes. Here, now, Felix stood tall and healthy, slim but fit under his apron, a modest but present definition in his arms showing through the rolled sleeves of his shirt as he set about making a new drink for the tottering old man. A spray of freckles adorned his dainty nose and rested among the golden glow of his cheeks, and he even had a little satisfied smile curling at his lip as he got the foam just right on the old man’s coffee.

You still didn’t see what all the fuss was about.

A dog ran up to Felix behind the counter, a panting golden retriever asking for pats, and your heart begrudgingly melted. In fact, there were even more dogs you hadn’t noticed. A small scotty rested at the feet of the old man. A tiny chihuahua slept in a basket on the counter that barely roused as Felix stepped over to add the drink to the man’s tab. A sleek sheepdog sat up from behind the counter to let him by, and a basset hound raised its head from where it sat in another chair when Felix set the warm cup on a small table by his elderly customer. Felix pet the dogs in a round and wiped up a string of drool from the basset with the corner of his apron before he returned to the counter and washed his hands.

Fine, so Felix was good with dogs.

But being good with dogs didn’t automatically mean you were entitled to Borrowed Time.

◇─◇──◇──🍂──◇──◇─◇

You returned with gusto the next day, ready to confront this supposedly difficult client. Your getup was simple, fully materialized now and dressed as a package courier. This form was common when working on this plane, even popular with other people in your department like Jisung, the previous Arbiter, who actually did use to deliver packages back before he died. It made sense in getting a feel for who a client really was. This was a blue collar worker that people were used to seeing and seeing through, and could really show who a person could be, given the right situation. And you really wanted to see who Felix could be.

You strolled into the cafe, large box in hand with a clipboard sitting on top and a pen tucked behind your ear. Felix perked up when you let it thunk onto the counter, the weight taking care of the poignancy.

“Delivery,” you boredly greeted. “Can you sign for this?”

“Er,” Felix stared — at you, the box, and back at you, “what is it? I wasn’t expecting anything.”

You laughed out loud as you held out your pen to him. “I don’t know, I’m just delivering it. Can you sign for this, please?”

Felix bit at his lip before he grabbed the proffered pen and signed, and you looked amused as you stood and watched him slice open the box with a pair of scissors from under the counter. What surprised you was that this old trick — this misdelivered box of assorted mugs and pens — only made Felix laugh.

“I didn’t order these!”

“That’s too bad,” you shrugged sympathetically. Admittedly, his smooth and deep voice was pleasantly unexpected, catching you off guard. “They’re addressed here and you signed for them.”

Felix’s eyes widened as he plucked out a piece of paper. “There’s an invoice?! With a balance on it?!”

But he still only laughed. You were a bit stumped.

“I guess I’ll pay this before I return it,” Felix shrugged. “I’d hate for someone to get a late bill on a mistake like this.”

You were puzzled, to say the least, as you turned to leave, but then Felix stopped you.

“Hey!” He called. “I feel bad that you had to come all the way here just for this to not be mine. Can’t I at least get you a drink on the house? Do you like dogs?”

The most astounding thing of all was you felt yourself heat up at his offer. This was well and truly bizarre, but you needed to check this out as well. There had to be fine print. You should’ve looked closer at the file.

You dumbly nodded as Felix gladly directed you over to a seat at the bar by his register. When he asked what you liked and you added a dumb shrug to your list of unintended responses, he shrugged in return and said he’d love to surprise you, then. Felix ground some beans down to a dense powder, pressed it into a puck, and pulled a couple espresso shots. You found yourself intrigued, having never seen or paid any attention to someone doing this by hand before. He steamed a small pitcher of milk until a modest head of creamy foam sat on top and carefully poured it in the center of the shots. He proudly slid the cup over to you on a saucer.

“A flat white,” he humbly presented. You silently nodded your gratitude and tried it. This was utterly confounding. The same misdelivery stunt got a shoe thrown at you by a client a few years back. You had to put the cup down as soon as you tried a sip.

“Is everything alright?” Felix worriedly asked. The fluffy lab originally sleeping on the rug in the center of the cafe got up to check on you, his wet nose leaving a slight print on your uniform pants.

“Er, yeah,” you gulped down the hot drink on your lips, “this is just really good. Are you sure I can’t pay you?”

Felix raised a hand to deny you. “Wouldn’t dream of accepting it. I’m sure you’ve been working hard all day anyway.”

“Sure have,” you stiffly lied. “Well, I can at least tip you.”

You conjured a wallet with a sizable bill inside, more than enough to cover the coffee as you quickly downed the modestly sized beverage. Felix beamed as you waved goodbye.

Fine.

So Felix was nice. So Felix was really nice. Felix was really nice, and kind, and he made good coffee.

But you’d have to try anyway. There was something in him that could convince you that he wasn’t 100% good, even though that shouldn’t have been a reason from the beginning.

◇─◇──◇──🍂──◇──◇─◇

You returned two nights later, but you didn’t enter the small side street. Instead, you paced in front of your parked bike out on the sidewalk, over and over again, working up the nerve. After a while, though, you knew it was time. You would goad Felix into dropping the act, into showing who he really was under all the sugar and sunshine. After making sure the sizeable package was sitting precariously on your handlebars to match the one on the back of your bike, you revved the little engine as Felix swept the stoop for the night. You barreled down the street, apparently unable to see much in front of you beyond the shoddy headlight. This was fine. This was easy. You’d done this before, and a saint of an old schoolteacher beat the snot out of you with their cane for it a while back. Felix noticed you at the last second, eyes widening comically as you reflexively honked.

You couldn’t do it.

Your finger barely squeezed the brake, but the front axle jackknifed and sent you ass over elbows onto the pavement.

Everything went white for a second and you definitely did not miss being alive in this moment, because this invariably sucked. And now Felix was there.

“It’s you!” Felix gasped and immediately offered you a hand up. “You scared the daylights out of me!”

“Uh,” you stammered and groaned, “I can say the same.” You could not wait to leave this plane and not feel the pain radiating in your hip and back. But right now, Felix was already pulling you into the cafe and fretting.

“Are you in a rush? You should at least sit down a moment.”

You sighed and let Felix seat you in a comfy chair by a heater in the small cafe, only lit by warm lamps at this time of night. The basset hound watching from a basket on the low windowsill came to sit at your feet as Felix hurriedly set about making you a hot cup of tea. He rushed over, light on his feet and pushing the warm mug into your hands. You nearly spat as you looked closer at the ceramic cup. “Is this—?”

“From that box you brought me the other day? Sure is.” Felix let the force of his belly laugh carry him into a chair beside you. “The funniest thing, really. I tried calling the phone number on that invoice and only got busy tones, and I tried looking up the business and only found dead websites. I figured I could always use pens and mugs, so now I have a supply and a funny story.”

You could crumple into dust, honestly. You set the mug on the little table by your chair, albeit a tad roughly. “I’m so sorry,” you shook your head, “but what is your deal? You’re literally the happiest person I ever met.”

Felix’s eyes pointed sharp into you. There it was.

But he wasn’t angry. He seemed embarrassed.

“Well,” he sighed, even still attempting to maintain his persistent smile, “it’s a long and tired story. I was really sick a couple years ago and I pulled through when no one thought I could.”

“I’m sorry—” you meekly interjected, but it was too late. The shine in Felix’s eye finally dulled, if only a little. You’d cracked him.

“It’s fine,” Felix reassured you. He gently patted your knee before he got back up to his feet. “You go ahead and enjoy your tea. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Of course, yeah,” you babbled as you got up and followed him anyhow, “I’m just glad I didn’t hit you.” You set the mug on the bar and sat down as he walked behind the register. The chihuahua in his basket drowsily got up and walked into your hand for pets.

“I was going to say the same,” Felix nodded tiredly with a worn smile. “It’s happened before. I guess I should put some lights up outside. A cute delivery boy almost ran me over with his bike about a year ago, too.”

“Delivery boy?” You asked starkly. Felix caught your look before falling right back into stride. His grin seemed to get its warmth back.

“Yeah,” he nodded amusedly. “He had an adorable nose ring, I remember I was terrified I almost ripped it out when he helped me up.”

Felix looked confused at the very least as you choked on your tea.

“I’m sorry,” you sputtered out. “You know I — it’s weird that — I just remembered I need to be somewhere. Thank you again, for everything.” You dug out entirely too much money for the tea and clapped it down onto the counter before grabbing your things and sprinting out the door.

◇─◇──◇──🍂──◇──◇─◇

Jisung looked caught as you slapped Felix’s file on his desk. “Hi,” he squeaked as you towered over him.

“What happened when you tried to crack him?”

The young Arbiter let his head drop back with a hard sigh. “You got the file? I knew he couldn’t last long.”

“You only gave him another year, you had to know this was coming.”

“He was just so—? He’s so nice, and genuine, and warm?” Jisung blathered on as he sat back up and flipped through the file. “He was never the same since what Chan did. He was the most amazing turnaround I’d ever seen.”

“So you gave him a year—“

“I didn’t.” Jisung shook his head. “Look closer at the file. I put him back in the queue for Reassessment.”

“What do you mean you—“

“Look,” Jisung insisted. He grabbed your sleeve and dragged you down the hall. “I put him back in Reassessment and was lucky to only get demoted. After what Chan did, I couldn’t bring myself to do more.”

“What are you showing me?”

“Here.”

Jisung shook out his hands and you found yourself standing beside him in a graveyard. This was a pleasant enough place to end up. The grass was neatly trimmed and there were trees and benches to sit on. The orange and red leaves scattered around looked like confetti, a graceful celebration at the end of life. Jisung stood between two headstones.

“I made the mistake of looking at what Chan did, except Felix’s family wasn’t gone yet when he had the file. They were on their way out, though. He saw that they were leaving soon, and Felix would be alone with his grandfather at his cafe. His grandfather would be all alone after losing all of them, and that would be after everything Felix would go through, getting sick and getting better and learning to live again. Chan saw a horrible ending to an awful story and put a stop to it, and he got banished for it.”

“That’s not fair though,” you shook your head, “no matter how much you or he wanted it.”

“But look at him!” Jisung reeled. “That decision made one of the brightest humans I’ve ever seen. When I put him back to Reassessment, I just spent time around him before I was called back. I suggest you do the same, no matter what you choose. I hope this helped.”

Jisung haughtily folded his arms before he vanished. You finally looked more closely at the headstones. Those years were much too close together. Your heart hung low in your gut.

◇─◇──◇──🍂──◇──◇─◇

Felix grinned wide when you returned to the cafe. He immediately set about making you a drink.

“I was wondering when I’d see you again.”

“You were?”

This was feeling familiar, like you were home or at a friend’s house, while you sat yourself in an easy chair and let the panting sheepdog sit between your feet so you could scratch under her chin.

“Yeah!” Felix brightly called over. “Because you asked why I’m like this, I sort of only gave you half an answer.”

“I’m sorry again,” you lamented.

“It’s fine,” Felix said adamantly as he set a warm mug in your hands. He gestured grandly before sitting down. “A latte. Now, I only gave you half an answer. The fact of the matter is that I spent a good while tied to tubes and machines with nothing to do and no choice in the matter. Now, all this time later, I’m just happy to be here, because I know the day after could be any day now.”

“The day after?”

Felix nodded. “When you come away from something like that, later it just feels like a day. One big day, or week, or whatever is tangible, but it definitely wasn’t forever. It feels like one big day to me. This, in the grand scheme of things, is the day after that, but the day after this, when everything actually does end— I’m expecting it. And I’m not scared, but I’m going to be enjoy my time here as much as I can.”

“You’re not scared?”

“Not anymore,” Felix shook his head in determination. “I had to cope with my own loss like everyone else was getting ready to cope with losing me. I didn’t get to have that luxury of not expecting it anymore, because I know what it looks like and I know what’s coming. To do anything else would be a disservice, so I’d rather walk into it with a clear mind and a full life.”

You thought of Bill and Jane, how she was the only one not crying at the end. It was hard to place exactly how you felt, sipping your coffee made with loving hands in this small cafe full of an inordinate amount of golden afternoon sunlight for being so hidden away from the main road. Felix fit here — cosmically, almost, in the least dramatic way you could muster.

“I’m really glad you feel that way,” you said, hoping that the added sincerity hidden behind the sentiment was felt.

The shimmer in Felix’s eyes told you it was. “I am, too. And I’m especially glad you’re back, because I like seeing you around. I don’t think I’ve given away this many free drinks since that delivery boy last year.”

“I like seeing you, too, Felix.” You finally admitted it, and it was true, even more so as Felix’s shining smile grew even more. You did like seeing Felix, and you would continue to see Felix as much as you were able, all the way to the end.

#skzwriternet #kwritersworldnet #stray kids felix #lee felix #lee yongbok #I DID IT MORE FLUFF FOR THE FLUFF BOY #MORE SFW FLUFF FOR THE FLUFF BOY #pixie demon lee felix 😈💕

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (49) || atz

You’re sitting in the rigging, the wind whipping at your hair as you watch the island of Grand Iguana come into view. As per your captain’s orders the day before, the Treasure is sailing to the closest possible town to get herbs for San to make an antidote with, an island just off the coast of Hispaniola.

Your eyes see, but aren’t really focused on the sight before you.

You raise your fingers to your lips absentmindedly. They’re smooth and warm, a little chapped, but not cracked or bleeding. But even though there’s no reason for it, you can still taste the phantom metallic tang of blood in your mouth, warm and coppery, lingering in the back of your mind like a nightmare unforgotten.

You don’t know what to think.

What is happening to you?

Those nosebleeds since you’d healed Yeosang… they had all been warning signs of something bigger to come. You wish desperately that you hadn’t ignored them back then, but it seems as if it is too late to regret things now. There so many questions swirling in your mind, erasing every other thought from you as you frantically ponder each and every one all at once, but eventually they stumble to a dead end and you never find an answer to any of them.

But one stands out above all the others.

What does this mean for you?

You’re afraid. Very, very afraid of what might come to pass. Terrified beyond the point of your imagination. Petrified in fear-

“Chin Hae?”

You whip around in shock at the sudden voice, nearly falling from the ropes in your haste and panic shoots through you for a second. To your fortune, a warm hand catches yours firmly, pulling you back up onto the yardarm, the sound of chains jangling in your ears.

“Thanks, Wooyoung-oppa.” You gasp as your back collides with the wood of the mainmast, your eyes meeting a familiar green gaze. But on his face, where there is usually a wide, boxy grin that brings out and complements his vibrant, emerald eyes, his mouth is instead pulled in a tight line, his gaze dull and weary.

Wooyoung still attempts a smile for you as he takes a seat next to you, however it comes out more as a forced grimace that doesn’t comfort you in the least. He must be worried for Yunho, it’s as obvious as the sun in the sky from the skittish way he swings his legs to the furrow in his brow. It’s been less than a week since Yunho has been poisoned, but the impact on the Treasure and its crew is apparent, the main deck that is usually clamouring with noise and activity unnaturally subdued without their resident mood maker there to spice things up for them.

You’ve never really considered why the battlemaster’s nickname onboard the ship is ‘Yunhogizer’... but now that you think about it, it’s clear to you. He might not have a prominent role on the ship except in times of battle, but Yunho truly is like a big brother to everyone on the Treasure… an irreplaceable part of the ship itself.

A lump rises in your throat. You miss him.

Back when you had first learned the ropes, Wooyoung had sat on your right, Yunho on the left, with you sandwiched in between them to prevent you from falling. But now the yardarm feels too big, too spacious, an empty spot at your side where the lookout should be sitting.

Yunho is already conscious but San has confined him to bedrest, telling him that moving around will simply make the poison spread faster. To your surprise, Yunho had been surprisingly compliant, not arguing in the least and simply letting you and San tend to him quietly. You’re worried, but you don’t know what yo say to him.

“Have you been to Grand Iguana before, oppa?” You ask, watching the blue of the sea gradually change from a deep azure to cerulean, shoals of bright, colorful fish darting about the ship’s hull in curiosity. Wooyoung’s hand slips into yours instinctively, like it’s the place it belongs.

“Yeah.” He smiles weakly at you, fingers closing tight around yours. They’re trembling, just a little. Just as terrified as you are for Yunho’s life, even as he tries to keep his voice light. “Not a lot of pretty ladies here.”

You elbow him in the side but it lacks any real strength behind it, silently squeezing his hand back, both trying to reassure him and comfort yourself at the same time. “It’s not nice to say that in front of me.” You say with what you intended to be a humorous laugh, but it comes out more of a nervous, flighty chuckle.

To your surprise, Wooyoung’s face becomes deathly serious, turning to face you, grasping both of your hands tightly in his larger ones. The shackles on his wrists clink and your eyes are immediately drawn to his, earnest and sober, as they bore into yours quietly. For a moment, you see him searching your expression for something that you’re not quite sure of, but before you can ask him what he’s doing, he merely sighs to himself and bows over your joined hands.

Confused, you don’t move, simply staring at Wooyoung as he leans forward. You feel warm breath touching your hands, stuttering out over your skin slowly, hesitantly, like he’s afraid you might push him away, before his lips brush your fingers with a gentle touch.

You freeze, eyes widening as you take in the head of purple hair before you. Wooyoung straightens up, meeting your eyes straight on with some solemn, unreadable gaze that sends inexplicable shivers up your spine, an entire ocean of emotions hidden behind a dam that is on the verge of shattering under their weight. Inhaling deeply, he takes a moment to steady sort out his thoughts before he begins to speak.

“I…”

But it never finishes.

There’s a long moment as Wooyoung suddenly falters, the words trailing off his tongue as he stares at you, green eyes widening. Then something creeps into the iridescent emerald hue, something you would go as far as to describe as fear, his hand going slack in yours.

You frown, waiting for him to continue speaking.

Instead, the head gunner simply stills, chewing on his lower lip hesitantly, before he suddenly sets your hands back in your lap, abruptly turning to watch the island before you once more. You’re so utterly confused by his behaviour, your mouth opening to ask him exactly what he was about to tell you, but then you hear Mingi calling for both of you to assemble at the main deck before the question can even leave your lips.

Wooyoung rises to his feet, pulling you with him even as the quartermaster waves the two of you down from the main deck. Your curiosity hasn’t been satiated in the least, so you tug on Wooyoung’s arm before he can descend the mast, stopping him in his tracks with a befuddled expression on your face.

“Wooyoung-oppa, what is it?”

“I…” For a second, Wooyoung actually stumbles over his words, his silver tongue failing him for the first time you’ve seen it as he stares at you haplessly, a conflicted gaze in his eyes, his fingers tightening around yours unconsciously. They’re a little clammy, and to your shock, you see an expression you’ve only seen one other time on his face, when you had been shot in Nassau.

Actual, honest to god panic.

He suddenly seems to realise that his hand is still in yours, because he drops it as fast as he can, as if it’s aflame. You try not to look as shocked as you feel, because not once in your life has Wooyoung rejected your touch, but you’re sure hurt and confusion flashes across your face before you can stop them.

Wooyoung, as perceptive as always, notices immediately and makes to explain himself, before he thinks the better of it and falls silent once more, jaw working furiously under your gaze. You’re so utterly bewildered by what has just happened, did Wooyoung just… kiss your fingers before pulling away? There seemed to be so much weight, so much meaning to what he’d just done, but you just don’t understand what it is.

What had just happened?

Wooyoung smiles at you but it’s clearly forced, dry and brittle, his gaze not meeting yours even when you try to catch his eye. Confusion and fear about what has just happened to one of your best friends outweighs your self consciousness, and you reach out to take his hand, forcing him to stay by your side.

“Oppa, what is it?”

But Wooyoung flinches away as if burned, blinking furiously as you stare at him, your hand still hanging in the empty space between the two of you. The head gunner realises what he’s just done, his expression turning apologetic, but then he falters once more, his own hand falling to the side as he stares back at you helplessly.

“Chin Hae, Wooyoung, hurry up!”

“Wooyoung,” you breathe cautiously, as if being too loud will scare him away. “Why exactly are you-”

“We should get going.” He dodges your question, turning towards the mast so that you can’t see his expression any longer. Something in you feels lost, hurt, betrayed even. What exactly is Wooyoung hiding from you, and why?

But before you can force him to give you an honest answer, Wooyoung has already leapt down the ropes to the main deck, leaving you behind on the main mast. A sort of confounded anger rises in you, but you force it back down, remembering your past experiences with Yeosang. No. Maybe Wooyoung is just having a bad time. He’s just worried about Yunho. Nothing more, nothing less.

You take a few deep breath to calm yourself. This isn’t the time to be thinking of such things. You need to focus on saving Yunho.

After you take a moment yourself to get your emotions under control, you join the rest of the crew on the main deck, stepping up to your master’s side. The deck has started rocking a little more underneath your feet, indicating that the crew have already lowered anchor and the ship has stopped sailing towards the island, merely bobbing on the waves.

You glance over the side, gasping in surprise at seeing the seabed just beneath the waves, all sorts of colourful corals and fish under the surface. Far off in the distance, there is a tiny cove in the side of the island, just out of sight, but your eyes are immediately drawn to it. A fond memory surfaces in your mind, you remember how you had encountered the Kraken on board the Treasure at the very beginning of your journey, hearing its voice in your mind and saving the crew. In a way, if that sea monster hadn’t chased the ship, Hongjoong may not have started trusting in you, and you wouldn’t be where you were today.

There’s a familiar click of boots and you turn around to see your captain stepping out of his cabin, red jacket around his shoulders. He’s still holding himself straight, emerald green gaze hard and determined, but there’s a weary slant to his shoulders, barely noticeable dark circles under his eyes that reveal just how exhausted he’s been for the last few days.

You’re worried for him.

Everyone on board had suffered from Yunho’s attack, no doubt worried beyond comparison for their cheerful crew mate, but for your captain, it seems to be something running deeper beyond what you can see, a storm of emotion swirling behind his one eye.

There are six people gathered on the deck including you and your captain, San, Mingi, Jongho and Wooyoung. You don’t know why exactly your captain has called all of you here, but it’s probably something to do with getting herbs for an antidote from Grand Iguana… you’re just not sure why there are so few of you gathered.

“San, I want you and Chin Hae to go into town and get the herbs you need. And make it fast, I have a bad feeling about something in the waters.” Your captain goes straight into instructions, shaving off the usual banter he begins with when giving orders. Your heart sinks at his words. What does he mean by he has a bad feeling?

“A bad feeling?” The young battlemaster echoes your thoughts, frowning at his captain as his fingers dance unconsciously over the handle of his cutlass. Hongjoong doesn’t bother trying to reassure any of you in the least, and with that you understand the severity of the situation.

“Seonghwa will remain on board and tend to Yunho because he doesn’t know the herbs you’ll need as well as you and Chin Hae will.” There’s no room for argument in your captain’s voice and all you can do is nod obediently. “I’ll be sending you with Jongho and Wooyoung to protect you while you’re there, I can’t have anything happening to either of you, especially not now. Jongho and Wooyoung, the two of you protect them with your lives, you understand?”

“Yes, captain.”

Nodding, your captain turns to glance at the two of you once more. “San, you go with Jongho. Wooyoung, you-”

“I’ll go with San.”

Wooyoung’s words cut across his captain’s faster than a loaded cannon.

Your eyes dart up to Wooyoung in shock and hurt. You know that something strange had happened up there on the yardarm, what exactly it was, you didn’t know, but Wooyoung isn’t meeting your eyes, instead glancing to the side. You see San’s brows furrow slightly in confusion, but your captain is too focused on the task at hand to sort this problem out now.

“Jongho with Chin Hae then. San and Wooyoung. We’ll cover more ground that way.” Your captain beckons the four of you to the little rowboat, Mingi passing over a bag of coins. “I wish you all the best.”

Even as the rowboat pulls away from the Treasure, Jongho and Wooyoung pulling at the oars, you feel a sinking feeling in your chest.

And you’re not sure why anymore.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez pirate king #w; ot8 #w; pirate king #w; fanfiction