#ESPECIALLY THAT THIRD EXPRESSION it took me so long to nail it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iliektehhaxs · 8 months

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NSFW Alphabet - Barnabas Tharmr Edition

Pairing: Barnabas Tharmr/Reader Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors DNI Author's note: Took me a while to get his manner of speech right, but I think I nailed it in the end. Warning for some more dark romance themes in this one, otherwise enjoy!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’s clingy, preferring to lay in bed alongside you, indulging himself in your presence. Afterwards he’ll have one of the maids run a bath for the two of you, but until then you’re not leaving the bed for anything. Whatever you need it can wait, right now Barnabas needs you by his side and nothing else.

Stubborn as anything, he pins you to the bed. “And where exactly do you think you’re going?” He asks, as if you leaving his embrace is a betrayal. You don’t get a chance to explain yourself, silenced by his lips against yours. Sweet as they are, you pull away with a laugh, pressing your fingers to his chest. “I only wish for some water, is that too much to ask?” He buries his head in your neck, nibbling at the vast expanse. “Yes, it is.”

“It’s only a short walk away!” You laugh.

He lays his head between your chest, peeking up at you with pale blue eyes. “Far longer than I could stand to be separated from you.” An arm snakes its way to your back, pulling you ever closer. “I will summon one of the handmaidens, but until then you will stay here, with me.”

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

If you ask him to choose he will look at you like you’ve grown feathers and a tail. What do you mean favorite? He loves everything about you, he’s not so simple to prioritize one thing above another.

He’d probably say his hands, because he gets a lot done with them. The same hands he uses to cut down foes is the same ones he uses to make you cum.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s coming inside of you, no questions asked. Don’t try to argue with him either, he’ll just fuck you until you’re too stupid to say no. Afterwards he’ll watch it drip out of you fascinated, might even finger it back inside.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Enjoys the idea of having you sat on his cock during especially boring meetings, your moans forcing the other council members to stop and take pause at your blissful expressions, spread open in a way only he could provide.

Of course he’s far too possessive to let such a thing happen, but a man can dream.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Has experience with bedding women for the sake of pleasure, but you’re the first woman that has caught his eye in a more profound way, made a dent in his bedsheets. It’s the first time he’s felt genuine love, and it took him a while to understand those emotions.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary or lotus position, close third would be cowgirl. Really anything that lets him hold you close.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very serious, do not try anything funny. Any attempts will be met with an ache that persists for days.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Does the bare minimum in terms of shaving, but if you ever mention it he’s making it a regular habit. He’d do anything for you as long as you asked him.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Initially he struggled with his emotions, didn’t quite understand why his heart picked up its pace when he looked at you or why your smile could lift him from the foulest of moods. He didn’t have a name for it, but he knew that he needed you more than he needed to breathe. When he finally understood that this yearning for you was love, he was quick to express that.

The power you have over him is something so grand, so tangible he would kiss the very ground you walk on if it pleased you so. Sex with him isn’t an act, it’s devotion; sweet and simple.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

High sex drive, doesn’t jerk off. He wants every single drop of his seed in you and you only. He had left for an excursion beyond Waloed, forced to suffer the words of politicians for hours on end. He shouldn’t have to be here, but they had insisted, wanting an answer from the king himself even if it would be the same as it always had. He had grown antsy in your absence, images of your form haunting him as he pretends to be interested in what they have to say. Days pass and he can feel a nagging in the back of his mind, wanting nothing more than to hold you in his embrace, to taste the sweat against your skin, feel you call out his name in bliss. He lies awake at night missing you, erection pressed against his sleepwear uncomfortably, but makes no move to relieve himself.

No, he wouldn’t dare, not without you. A week passes, and he is finally returned to his love, your familiar scent putting him at ease the moment he steps into your shared bedchambers. He can never tire of this, of how you so easily bring him at peace.

You jump into his arms without hesitation, kissing him tenderly. “Welcome back, my lord.” There’s a coy smile on your face, a hand gingerly playing with his hair. “I’ve missed you.” He admires you, a familiarity in your gaze. He is glad to know he was not the only one left wanting. He picks you up unceremoniously, walking to the bed. “As have I, my love. Allow me to show you just how much.”

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lingerie - Seeing you dressed in the finest of lace is a gift in and of itself, and being able to rip off the wrapping makes that gift even more enjoyable.

Body Worship - You are his queen, expected to be treated as such.

Mirrors - An extension of body worship, he will watch eagerly as you shake on his lap, a single hand placed at your neck. “Do not turn your eyes away, my beloved. I should have you witness yourself, as I do.”

Choking - Either giving or receiving, depends on what he’s in the mood for that night. Sado-Masochism - Let’s be real here, this is Barnabas we’re talking about. The man lives for battle, both in and out of the bedroom. Treat him rough, he can handle it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom, occasionally the throne room if he’s feeling bold. Also has a tendency to drag you away to the nearest empty room if you’re looking extra desirable that day. It’s not like anyone will complain after all, he is the king.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

A single look from you is enough to get his blood boiling.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything involving bodily fluids, or anything that would permanently scar you. He may be a masochist but he’s not unsanitary, nor is he evil.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As mentioned before, his only experience with sex prior was whatever woman would occupy his bed when he felt like it. He used to think he had a preference for receiving because that’s all he knew until that point, focused on his own pleasure above all, but you quickly changed his view.

His mouth moves against your pussy enthralled, his eyes dark with lust. You mewl for him, a beautiful sound that stokes a fire inside, brings him closer and closer to completion without a single touch.

You squirm under him, unable to handle his ministrations even if he knows you crave them so. His two hands lock you in place, no room to push away as he devours every last drop of your lust.

It runs over his chin, spills against your plush thighs, and he makes no move to remove himself. He indulges, gorges himself on your taste until he’s satisfied, and returns for seconds greedily.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

On a good day he’ll drag on for hours, teasing you until you cry, on a bad day he’ll fuck you until his fingers bruise your skin and your legs give out. Depends on how annoying his royal advisors are.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yes, but not too often. He’s aware of his reputation, but he will throw it out the window in a heartbeat if he sees the brand new lingerie set he’s bought you peeking out beneath your dress.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes, without a doubt.

The cold bite of steel sends a shudder down your spine. Ever so slowly, the flat of the blade moves against your naked chest, to your stomach, and finds its target at the fine line of your panties.

Barnabas watches you mesmerized, how your body reacts to the danger, goosebumps forming as he moves his blade across your skin. You don’t move away from him, even when the blade moves back to line your throat.

“So well behaved,” he whispers, pressing the blade further against your skin. “You would trust me with your very life?”

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “I would.”

You bite your lip when you feel his knee pressed into your pussy, knife still at your throat.

“And what if my hand were to slip?”

It never would of course. Barnabas is far too experienced to let such a thing happen.

A quick flick of his wrist and your underwear is left in pieces, the blade now lying flat against your mound. His eyes roam across your body, a hint of something sadistic rising when he sees your reaction.

You tremble, forcing yourself to stay still lest the knife truly hurts you. Even as you try your best, he can feel you just barely moving against his knee, still seeking pleasure.

A whimper, shaky hands moving to rest at his chest. “Please, keep going.”

A wicked grin passes across his face. “As you wish.”

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

You can try to beg him to stop, the key word here is “try.” Don’t be surprised if he doesn’t listen.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Assuming this is a modern AU, he’ll entertain a buttplug or a vibrator. If ropes count as toys, then those too.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Damn near fucking evil. His dick could be throbbing in his pants, ready to make a mess of himself but he will hold back just to draw out your pleasure one more time, just one more time dear— It’s never just one more time.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Grunter, not very loud. Would rather listen to your cries instead.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Loves to teach you how to defend yourself. He was over the moon when you asked him to hold a sword for the first time, and now you’ve gotten to the point where you can parry a blow. Not only is it an excuse to spend time with you, but he can have the peace of mind to know that if you’re forced to fight, you could handle yourself.

You would never have to, of course, because he’d never leave your side long enough for anyone to harm you. Any fool bold enough to try would be unrecognizable after the fact, but he’d be a liar if he said the image of a sword in your hand wasn’t arousing.

The both of you stand in the courtyard, not a soul around save for the birds that fly overhead. You hold your sword in a strong grip, despite your exhaustion, while Barnabas has barely broken a sweat. Inexperienced as you are there is a spark in you, one that may yet grow into a wildfire with the right training.

“You have been practicing without me, I can see it in your stance.” He muses, eyeing your weakened body.

To anyone else it may seem a mockery, but you knew better. You raise your sword in front of your body, lips curling into a grin.

“Do you think I’ll be able to defeat you now?”

He shakes his head in amusement. “A Dominant you are not, but I will make a fine swordswoman out of you yet.” (As an added bonus, I also think he would love bringing you the most lavish gifts! Perfumes, jewelry, the softest fabrics straight from the Dhalmekian Republic, he enjoys spoiling you. Anything for his queen.)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

6.1 inches, uncut, slightly curved upwards, veiny. Always hits your gspot without fail.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Less of a sex drive and more like he’s ready to please you if you so wish. You would only have to ask, and sometimes you don’t have to, he can tell. The two of you are sitting in the throne room, side by side as he gives an audience with a member of royalty.

You’ve been eyeing him all day, sneaking a glance every time he speaks. You shouldn’t bother him, he has enough on his plate as sole ruler of Waloed, so instead you let your imagination run amok. Broad shoulders and strong arms, large hands that always know what you need and how you need it. Maybe he’d tease you, or maybe he’d fuck you until his name is the only thing you can scream.

Gods, just thinking about him makes your core ignite. Your focus is broken when the man rises from the floor, leaving the room. Had you been daydreaming that long? Your confusion is further increased when Barnabas motions for his personal guard to leave the room. “I would have a moment to myself,” He waves towards the large oak doors. “See that I’m not interrupted.” Wordlessly they file out, and only when he’s certain no one remains does he turn toward you. “How long have you been left wanting?” Your eyes widen. You try to deny it, but a hand at your chin stops you. “I could feel it, your gaze,” His hand moves lower, tracing against your collarbone, then grabbing your neck as he speaks lowly. “I can see right through you, desperate little thing you are.” He pulls you toward him, leaving your seat and moving into his lap without hesitation. “Tell me what has preoccupied your mind so, what you need.” You shiver, a hand slowly moving up your bare thigh, higher and higher. “You, Barnabas.” Pleased with your answer, those same large hands remove your underwear within seconds. “Then you may have me.”

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Doesn’t sleep, enjoys watching you sleep peacefully. He'll stroke your hair and whisper as sleep claims you. "My beautiful queen, forever and always."

#final fantasy xvi #final fantasy xvi smut #barnabas tharmr #barnabas tharmr x reader #barnabas tharmr smut #ff16 #I love my men a lil fucked up #robo writes

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everlasting-rainfall · 11 months

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Hey, what are the Vinsmoke boys like in the Pages au?

Ok so I’m pretty sure that I know who is sending me this but I’m not going to say anything just in case my memory is playing tricks on me

But seeing as how I personally feel about the Vinsmokes, I’m going to do Ichiji, Niji, and Yonji.

Also I’m sorry that it took me so long to get to this as I have to be directly in the mood to write this sort of thing

Anywho let’s get into it, shall we?

!-MINORS DNI-!

!-Trigger Warnings-!

Delusions, Kidnapping, Raiding, the Vinsmoke Boys being the Vinsmoke Boys, S*xual Punishments, Overstimulation, Masturbation, Yandere

!-Trigger Warnings-!

!-MINORS DNI-!

So we all know the Vinsmoke Brothers. They’re big, scary, and tough as nails with little to seemingly no capacity for any kind of emotion so it’s really a wonder that they picked up your books in the first place.

I’m going to say that Yonji was the first one to take a look simply because of the hot girl on the cover who was making a rather sexy looking expression as her love interest loomed over her from behind.

In actuality, that sexy expression was the MC looking somewhat terrified of her new partner but it’s not killing his interest any time soon.

He buys it while probably finishing up some kind of work somewhere or just takes it because it’s likely that he doesn’t care then once he’s finished up with his princely paperwork for the day. He heads to his room and starts reading the story.

The man almost put it down at first as he found himself bored by the mutual pining but then the “third love interest” walks onto the scene, a prince whose described as wearing green, red, and blue. He is instantly more interested especially after the prince nearly forces the MC into a relationship with him after kidnapping her.

He is completely rooting for this prince character so much that he practically shouts in happiness whenever the guy enters into a scene although if Yonji had paid attention then he would realize that the prince is the villain of the story who kidnapped the MC.

But of course, he can’t just spend the entire day reading so eventually he has to get up and take care of things but once he’s done. He is rushing back to his room to continue reading and don’t think that Ichiji and Niji haven’t noticed because they do.

Yonji has no reason to want to keep this for himself at the moment so he shows his brothers what he’s been looking at and practically info dumps to them about the contents of the book. He’s of course describing it in his own distorted way so ”The prince is the guy that the MC is going to marry, he’s the best choice! Because she loves him!”

After a while of info dumping, they start to get a bit curious so they decide to steal Yonji’s copy from him and take a look until the servant that they sent out to get copies for them returns.

It’s safe enough to say that in that amount of time, they’ve wound up completely hooked on the story albeit only to watch as the marine and pirate love interest are absolutely wrecked by the prince so he can have what’s rightfully his.

To say that they’re invested too is an understatement as Niji is commonly speeding through his princely duties to get back to reading the story while Ichiji is just bringing the book everywhere with him to take quick looks at it throughout the day whether it be during meal times, during princely duties, or even while training.

Also I hope that you didn’t write any sort of steamy scene between the prince and the MC because lord knows that Niji is going to shamelessly start rubbing to the thought of it like one hand is turning the pages to continue while the other is stroking his cock.

Ichiji and Yonji would never stoop to that level though... They’ll go to their rooms and masturbate to the idea of the MC being ruthlessly fucked by the prince even if you didn’t write the MC being fucked and it was simply a close call...

Also I’d say that chances are that all three of them during their fun will probably start to imagine themselves in the places of the princes in the stories. Pushing the MC into the mattress and fucking her in all sorts of positions as she screams out their name specifically and covers their cock in her slick.

Niji imagines holding the MC up by her thighs and thrusting up into her, he imagines her crying out his name with tears in his eyes and pleading him to go slower but him grinning to himself and going much faster instead. Probably teasingly asking “This is what you wanted, right? Don’t complain when you wanted this~” Maybe throw in a few shocks here and there to make her walls spasm a little around him until he finally cums deep inside of her but lord knows that he’s not stopping there as he’s going to keep fucking her until he finally decides that he’s been satisfied.

Ichiji imagines taking the MC to his bed chambers and putting her into a mating press where she would cling to him and leave scratches down his back that would only encourage him to go harder and deeper. He imagines himself talking about how he wants to fill her and watch her belly swell up with his children only for her to beg him to pull out but he doesn’t listen and instead with one last big thrust, he cums deep inside of her and spends the rest of the night plugging her up with his cock.

Yonji personally imagines saying that he isn’t hungry at dinner time and going to his room where he had tied up the MC, he licks his lips at the sight of her and tells her that he skipped dinner so now she has to feed him. He would eat her out for hours on end making her orgasm over and over again on his tongue until she’s crying from the overstimulation that she’s feeling. But he isn’t entirely cruel as once he’s had his dinner in the form of eating her out then he plans to give her a proper thank you... A thank you that involves even more overstimulation as he leans over her and fucks into her in the doggy style position...

Yeah, their mid masturbation fantasies are detailed and they have no shame about it at all...

But as nice as the story is, all good things have to come to an end at some point because at the end of the day... The prince was the villain of the story and no delusion can change the source material...

So when the MC is rescued from the wedding just before she can say “I Do”, the three of them feel the anger coursing through their veins but nonetheless they stay hopeful... The prince will come out on top and wreck the Marine and Pirate, right?

Wrong! And now there are three very angry princes who just witnessed the worst possible outcome in the story!

They hope to see the prince again that he would come back at the last second but in all of the books after that, he’s completely disappeared with no signs of ever reappearing and not only that but they find that in the last book, the MC gets with the Pirate/Marine!

It is absolutely safe enough to say that all three of them are absolutely pissed about this…

They can't believe that the MC not only completely abandoned the Prince for those two low life’s but she even had the nerve to act like the Prince never even existed in this first place in the ending!

It was unacceptable, horrible, downright disgusting! And most importantly completely unforgivable as well…

Ichiji thinks about finding the author and forcing you to change the story so the Prince who was clearly the best option would win and his brothers agreed with these terms as they nodded along deciding that this was clearly the best course of action

They looked at your books and found not only your full name on the cover but your mailing address as well on the back of the book, it didn’t tell them exactly where you were but it was good enough as it did tell them what island you were on

All that was left to do was go and find you

Their arrival on the island was met with quite a lot of shock as “Holy shit, it’s Germa 66!” and everyone quickly getting out of their way

They might be here for one thing but I feel that they are impatient so if you’re island has some kind of problem like it has a corrupt ruler, maybe there are pirates, bandits, or whatever then they might deal with that real quick so they can demand you as payment for their help

And if there isn’t then they can always have some soldiers raid the island to look for you and bring you to them or they could just look for you themselves and drag you back to Germa before you even knew what hit you

No matter what they decide to do though, it all remains the same and you’re dragged to Germa and made to stand before the three of them like you’re some criminal who fucked up big time

Your heart is pounding in your chest and you just plead for them to not hurt you and to please let you go home as you don’t know what you did and they say that they’ll allow you to go home if you write a new story for them, one where the Prince wins the MC

Very understandably, you’re incredibly confused but there’s not much that you can do so you agree to it then proceed to be locked inside of a room with little else other than a bed, bathroom, a closet, and a desk with writing supplies

You’re there for weeks with routine visits from the prince’s usually separate with occasionally two of them showing up at once and very rarely all three of them showing up at once

Ichiji typically forcing you to sit in his lap as you write which wouldn’t be that much of a problem if he didn’t somewhat try to cop a feel on you when he did by letting his hands drift to the insides of your thighs then refusing to move them

Niji would usually show up before you woke up as sometimes you would wake up staring at his chest which was sometimes clothed and sometimes not, he sometimes had his arm over you and it always hard to tell if he was actually asleep or not because of his sunglasses

Yonji only really would show up during times when you were brought food as he would want to eat with you, he would sometimes try to talk with you and would get visibly upset if you ignored him especially if he was trying to ask you a question

As the days passed on and the book neared completion, you found that they were starting to become more daring with you like Ichiji attempting to rub at you through your clothing as you sat on his lap or waking up to Niji attempting to slip your clothes off while you slept in preparation for something you didn’t even want to think about or even Yonji completely shamelessly asking to eat food off of your body which usually entailed him licking things off of your private areas

Their visits were starting to become more and more frequent as well so you feared what they might do and attempted to ask the King himself, Judge Vinsmoke to be let go early but he refused and you knew that he had would tell the three of them when they were finished with their Prince duties

You rushed as fast as you could to complete the book but just as you finished writing the “D” on The End, all three of them entered into the room at once clearly having been told what you tried to ask Judge for

To prevent suffering a punishment from them, you attempted to tell them that you had finished the story and you could leave but they didn’t listen as they took one look at the story and pulled you out of your chair

You were thrown onto the bed and bounced a little from the collision, they surrounded you on all sides with Ichiji being at your right, Niji at the left, and Yonji standing at the foot of the bed. You were terrified to say the least

You attempted to stutter out that you had a deal and it was time for them to let you go only for them to laugh at you

“Why would we ever let you go after you tried to back out of the deal early?”

“I think she deserves a bit of a punishment for trying to go behind our backs… What do you think?”

“I think that sounds great but she had better do everything that her princes tell her…”

It was after that is when they pounced on you, clothes were quickly discarded and thrown about the room as you were viciously fucked by all three of them for the entire night

Your body covered in sweat, tears, and cum as they took turns abusing your holes alternating cumming deep inside of you and on you

The overstimulation from them was far too great to the point where you couldn’t even hear them refer to you as the name of the books MC instead of your actual name

You had no clue how long they planned on fucking you for but with you placed onto your hands and knees with Yonji underneath you thrusted into you with his cock while his mouth played with your nipples while Ichiji was leaned over from behind biting at your neck as he thrusted into you as well making it double penetration and Niji sat on his knees in front of you thrusting into your mouth making you give him a blowjob

Even with all of this, you knew without a doubt that you were never getting away from them

#male yandere #yandere #yandere germa 66 #Yandere Ichiji Vinsmoke #Yandere Niji Vinsmoke #Yandere Yonji Vinsmoke #pages au #minor dni #the rain talks back #read the trigger warnings #reader insert #reader insert smut #yandere one piece #yandere smut

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grahamstoney · 5 years

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My Top 10 Favourite Angry Comedians

New Post has been published on https://grahamstoney.com/anger/my-top-10-favourite-angry-comedians

My Top 10 Favourite Angry Comedians

One of the things that appeals to me about comedy is that comedians get to tell the truth. Especially about the things that piss them off. Many comedians adopt an angry schtick which gives the rest of us permission to deal with our own internalised rage vicariously.

Here are some of my favourite angry comedians:

1. Doug Mulray

I grew up listening to Uncle Doug on Triple-M in Sydney. I found him hilarious and suspect his sense of humour was forged in his youth because he had a great face for radio. His song I’m A Punk was undoubtedly unconscious inspiration for my own single Everything Is Fucked many years later:

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My other favourite was Janie’s not a nun:

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2. Ricky Gervais

I suspect it was Ricky’s frustration with religious beliefs that led him to write movie The Invention Of Lying. It’s one of the best commentaries of theology I’ve come across. His routines about the literal interpretation of The Bible are also pretty spot on:

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3. Bill Burr

The modern brand of sexist feminism clearly pisses Bill off. He doesn’t suffer fools gladly and refuses to bow down to unreasonable demands just because the person making them is a woman. You can’t argue with his rationalisation of the gender pay gap:

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Bill’s bit about radical feminist attitudes to the otherwise unfunny subject of domestic violence is also a hilarious reality check:

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4. Lewis Black

Lewis voiced the inner voice of Anger in the movie Inside Out, and he was perfect for the role. He regularly reads hilarious rants supplied by the audience at the end of his gigs and broadcasts them live on his YouTube channel. His reading of this rant about Mormons is hilarious:

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5. Larry David

Larry’s social awkwardness seems to be the driving force behind a lot of his comedy. Despite his huge success with Seinfeld and Curb Your Enthusiasm he says he’s still unable to walk up to attractive women and talk to them. It took me a long time to get around to watching Curb because I didn’t think an angry dude yelling at people would be funny. Turns out it’s hilarious:

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6. Russell Brand

I don’t know if Russell is really angry or is just channeling his excess sexual energy now that he’s in a monogamous marriage. I like how he is using his fame as a platform for positive social change. This MSNBC interview where he turned the tables on the interviewers after they talked about him in the third person is pure gold:

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7. George Carlin

Once he adopted the attitude “I don’t give a shit”, George became a fearless social critic. He was particularly critical of religion and what he saw as stupidity in authority figures. His Filthy Words routine challenged censorship all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court:

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8. Jim Jefferies

Jim is a fellow Australian whose comedy is sometimes a little too depressive for me. I suspect he could use some serious therapy. However his bit on gun control in the United States absolutely nails it:

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9. Rich Hall

Rich often performs as his redneck alter-ego Otis Lee Crenshaw, but it was the song expressing his disappointment with Bob Dylan had me laughing so hard when I first heard it at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival In 2016 that I could hardly breathe:

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10. Bill Hicks

I suspect the rage behind Bill’s comedy was fueled by anger at his overly conservative fundamentalist Christian parents. He had little respect for his father and was greatly distrustful of authority figures. Some of his acerbic comedy seemed paradoxical; for instance he spoke positively about his experiences with drugs yet became dependent. He was a heavy smoker and died way too early of pancreatic cancer. Check out his final Letterman appearance that wasn’t broadcast until years after he died:

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Bonus: Don Rickles

Don Rickles was the original insult comic. Being picked on by Mr Warmth became a badge of honour in the entertainment industry. Nobody has come close since. I think he was only pretending to be angry but I like his style so he’s here as a bonus. Here’s my favourite line:

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#Bill Burr #Bill Hicks #Comedians #Don Rickles #Doug Mulray #George Carlin #Jim Jeffries #Larry David #Lewis Black #Rich Hall #Ricky Gervais #Russell Brand #Anger

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llycaons · 6 months

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ep46 (2/3): go off wen ning!!!

oh this episode has so many great romantic shots of lwj catching wwx and dramatically cradling him in his arms and gazing tenderly at him and taking care of him physically and looking horrified and caring when he learns the truth. it's like his number one role in this episode from this point on

THERE HE IS!!!!! much like jyl's ep25 speech, this is wen ning's absolute best scene. the best scenes of both jyl and wen ning, gentle and deeply loving side characters with little political or cultivation power, involve them defending wwx, someone who looked after and protected them in turn. it's happened so rarely and it's so satisfying to see it come down like that

come to think of it, most great lwj scenes are of him doing the same thing

oh gosh lwj looks almost disgusted when he sees jc draw suibian. like 'really??? HIM??? ugh'

WEN QING!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭 YOU HAVE BEEN MISSED BELOVED!!!!

oh he is NAILING the 'the man I love went through torments untold and I utterly failed him when it mattered and now I hold him in my arms and gaze at his face and wonder how I could have been so foolish' look

I love that wen ning has such a precise and detailed memory. it's fitting as a companion and defender of wwx, who famously has a poor memory even when it comes to himself. it's so good for wwx that wen ning and lwj both witness and carry wwx's struggles so he doesn't have to do so alone. im getting choked up

oh and he just tears into jc in this scene. mwah. so so satisfying

and look how passionate he is! quiet, timid, kind wen ning, whose default expression is solemn awkwardness or a shy smile, outright shouting at this sect leader. and rightfully so!

his is his SISTER! and jc shouldn't forget why he's here! wen ning isn't here to punish or kill jc or even really hurt him. he just wants him to know who he owes his life and success and strength and sect to - people he's abandoned, people he's tortured, people he's sworn to kill. it's a bitter pill to swallow, and it's devastating for him, but wen qing deserved to be remembered. and jc needs to understand what exactly wwx did before he can decide to torment him for eternity or whatever he was planning

jc sobbing should also be satisfying, but honestly it's just sad. he makes me tired. isn't he tired?

thank GOD wen ning said this because a lot of people take wwx at face value especially when it comes to jc and it's important to remember that wwx wasn't being sincere in a lot of circumstances, both before and after the war

oh god and now he's remembering all the things he did to wwx and the things wwx said to him before he left to get his core 'restored' oh god oh fuck this is why he apologizes later. this is what it took. thank you wen ning 😭 I will never ever call wwx an idiot for not communicating things he was clearly too traumatized or in too much of a precarious position to communicate but I'm so glad someone did

THE SINGLE TEAR MAKES A REAPPEARANCE

I love the 'grabbing a sword hilt in determination' thing that both lwj and wwx do

GET HIM!!!!

GO OFF!!!! this is probably the meanest thing wen ning even says in this scene and it's literally just the truth. people who call wen ning cruel for this are weak bitches. 'uwu jc lost his entire family' yeah so did wen ning and jc failed to help them even though THEY saved his and his sibling's lives. jc always scolds wwx for not being grateful but he's so ungrateful and self-absorbed himself. 'wq turned down his marriage offer' was that seriously the fucking best he could have come up with

anyway wn and lwj united in taking care of and defending wwx is such a lovely partnership 🥺 for so long he's been taking care of everyone and all alone and refusing help and now the two most loyal and loving people still alive are looking after him and making sure he's okay. it does make me emotional

awww yeah romantic lotus pond night boat ride with a third wheel slash servant (?) wwx sure directs him to row like one

oh god...this line really hits. when you and your family are facing extermination from literally everyone in the entire world, when everyone is treating you as less than human and calling for your blood, when you're utterly alone in the nightmare, then having even one person stand up for you and advocate for you, just one person who tries to save you...yeah I would remember that too. but then wen ning always remembers the good people do for him. he was loyal to wwx as soon as wwx was kind to him, bc it was something wwx does regularly but that never happened to wen ning before.

man arguably wen ning lived by the 'forget the bad, remember the good' that cssr told wwx. I feel like I've already said that

as tangled and silly as the timeline is for nightless city, I don't find it hard at all to believe that lwj, hearing some shit went down and the wens turned themselves in, first went to nightless to advocate for them. failing that, he ran back to BM looking for wwx and found a-yuan. he took a-yuan to CR, put him in with a medic, and then booked it to nightless.

...actually now that I write it all out, it does sound a bit unlikely. but lwj WOULD delay going to wwx if a-yuan needed him, and the travel time for the wens and the time wwx spent asleep could account for the time lwj spent desperately flying back and forth all over the jianghu

oof yeah I joke about lwj not communicating shit but really...in this situation I can see why to an extent. yeah, lsz deserves to know his identity and family. the wens shouldn't be absorbed into the lans and lost from the world forever. god knows there's enough real world examples of racist adoption that contributes to genocide and loss of culture (see, white adoption of indigenous americans and aboriginal people). but I can see him not wanting to tell a child that hes the last survivor of a mass murder bc there's no comfort he can offer. he didn't even really know them. it still would have been better if he'd told him, obviously. people shouldn't but cut off from their families, even dead. none of the wens should have been forgotten. but I see why. and I see why wen ning is doing the same thing

#cql re-rewatch

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milf-harrington · 2 years

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@sukibitch i drew the post and also spent way too long on suki's background sfkjshdf

1. that is just some random person in the first panel with zuko, sokka has already had his interaction w zuko but now he's like. staring at him from across the cafe skjd

2. i started this at like,, 2:00 - 2:30pm and it is now 1:30am so that's what? 11-ish hours? no wonder i am in Pain lmao

3. i apologise for the lack of image description, i am absolutely knackered but if anyone happens to write one (im not telling you too, i might end up writing one tomorrow) i would be happy to add it to the original post <3

#YES sokka's name in suki's phone is ''babygurl''#are they dating or just best friends? up to you #anyway im in love with the way i drew suki and the way i drew zuko's hair and just #all of sokka #ESPECIALLY THAT THIRD EXPRESSION it took me so long to nail it #no id #not described #zukki #sort of #zukka #also sort of #zuko #suki #sokka #avatar the last airbender fanart #atla fanart #my art

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sasaparilla · 3 years

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Crane with a s/o that gets scared easily.

(Gender neutral!)

-My my, aren't you a scaredy cat? He will absolutely adore the noises you make when getting jumpscared by him for the third time today after he simply swifts from being beside you to disappearing in the dark behind a wall and then reappearing again close to your face saying "Boo!"

-There's no safe time for you when Jon is around. If you lose him out of your point of view be sure of two things: 1- He is interested in something else in the other room. 2- He is right behind you and his fingers are already crawling up in the back of your neck before another "boo!" gently blows in your ear

-Seriously, even he will wonder how the hell do you get startled so easily? He will start to think you're just pretending but then after seeing the absolute panic painted in your face when an insect started flying in the room, it was proven to him that yes… you were scared easily.

-Funny enough when you get scared from something else that isn't one of Jon's antics, (for example a movie he recommended you two to watch) he will gladly hold your shaking frame just to feel your panicked heartbeat, while trying his best not to smirk over the scene of your arms shivering. Such a sight to behold.

-Although he enjoys seeing the bright terror in your eyes, Jon has learned about your limits too well to know when to stop. He doesn't see any sort of pleasure when seeing you cry. The first time he actually did see you shedding tears out of fear from playing a horror game it made him feel kinda guilty. Jon then realises he just likes your scared expression, not your suffering one.

-Even if his whole signature is about causing people to feel their deepest fears for his own morbid curiosity, Jon feels quite satisfied with just the surface of your fears, as generic and normal as they can be. However, if you catch your own gut and manage to sit with him to talk about some of your real traumas, he will not only play his professional psychology role and assist you to face it better but will also be so proud of you.

Imagine, you are revealing your worst fears for the one who is known to weaponize them against you. Jon sees it as a massive signal of trust you have with him and as much as he is loving your spooked expression when talking about them, he will take this as a personal treasure. A private moment that only you two know about.

-Since then, it's up to you. Jon will offer his hand of help if you're willing to face your fears and try to overcome them, he knows how it feels and has a large experience on the matter.

If you feel like you are not ready or simply prefer to keep living this way, he will respect your decision and keep your traumas locked in his head as a secret.

-Keep in mind that the everyday little jumpscares will still occur.

Bonus:

"It's not a phobia, trust me. It's an expected reaction you have from the unknown of said subject. Especially after such… inconvenient events from your past." Jon finishes his talk with you sitting at the other end of the small table in your kitchen. He usually spent the whole afternoon with you during weekends before leaving again when night began to fall. Not that he was hiding from you about his underground work but this routine simply suited well between both you and him, since you aimed to maintain your normal life and Jon his hidden one both safe.

"I don't know, it's just so tiring sometimes to me like I don't want to react but yet I can't control it." You speak kinda upset, gripping your fists that were landing on the table.

"It's the opposite, my dear. Fear controls us. Our only chance is to accept and overcome it eventually if the chance appears." He replies to your frustration as calmly as if reciting a poem.

"I don't think I can do it. Hell, you've seen me freaking out because of a ridiculous small spider last week." Your attempt to lift the mood with a laugh fails as Jon keeps looking at you with a blank expression, making you look down embarrassed.

"That's why I'm here to offer you help. To give you this chance."

Still looking down, you meditate in silence about his words for a moment. Doubt still made it seem unclear as to how you would win your trauma. Lacking any idea of a viable option at the moment from yourself.

A gentle metallic noise snaps you from your thoughts. Your eyes catch the image of a syringe containing an orange liquid inside resting on the table in the space between you and Jon. He retracts his hand away from the item, folding the small secret pocket from inside his coat in which he took it out previously.

Meeting your gaze, Jon brings his hands up to his chin, intertwining his fingers and resting his elbows on the table, not breaking the eye contact he fixed with yours, though his eyes were hidden by the bright white his glasses reflected from the room's lightning.

"Of course, the choice will be yours." He reassures you about your position.

You switch your focus back to the syringe and remember clearly what is Jon's speciality together with the dangers of it. He maintains his silence, allowing you to face your own indecision before you finally speak.

"Alright. I will take the chance."

If it weren't for his hands close to his face, it wouldn't be able for him to hide his devilish smirk.

You two rearrange the chairs to be closer now, Jon assumes the position of medical administration and holds your arm gently as the slim shadow of the syringue hovers above your skin.

"I want you to know the dose will be low to not last long but enough for the chemicals to work properly. Understand?"

You nod.

"Are you sure about this?"

Once again you nod while feeling a chill sensation in your stomach. You were scared, of course you were and he knew it too. However, it was your choice.

The syringe needle sinks in the surface of your skin and slowly makes its length disappear and appear again from the spot, injecting the unholy fear substance in your blood course. The sting pain is then replaced by a numb sensation following up to your arm shaking. Your heart begins to race and you can feel sweat forming in your forehead. Wiping it with the back of your hand, you realise that your hand feels heavier than before and checking the reason for it, you're met with the vision of your skin succumbing to putrid flesh as insects start coming out of what were supposed to be your nails.

Desperation hits, you notice Jon's form switching to something darker, scarier and menacing, but his mouth remains in a serene smile before it moves to speak.

"Now tell me, what do you see?"

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #gender neutral s/o #own writing #first fic posted here ayeee

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whatupitsastarrynite · 3 years

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Into The Fire

A/N- Goooooood evening everyone! We hope your week started off great and that your Monday hasn't been too terrible! If it by chance has been.... here is a fic? Maybe it will cheer you up???

Thanks for all the support that you have given @starrynite7114 and myself, we appreciate it so so much and we hope you enjoy our first actual fic together!

We love y'all !!! ❤❤❤❤

You groaned, your phone had been ringing nonstop. You had just finished an on call week and all you wanted to do was sleep. But instead, you were being awoken at six at night.

“Fuck I slept the day away.” You sighed. The ringing stopped and you were grateful for that. But before you could even debate whether you wanted to continue to sleep the day away or move, the ringing came again.

Picking up your phone, you saw that it was Bishop. The club president rarely called you, when he usually did, it was to update you on your father who was serving life in prison. You weren’t exactly sure why your tio insisted on giving you updates when you visited your father every two weeks. But you knew it was his way of trying to keep in touch with you.

You let out an annoyed sigh and quickly hit the answer button.

“What is it?” You grumbled as you rubbed your eyes.

“Finally, look, there isn’t time to explain, but we need your help, now, your Tio Marcus got taken earlier and he’s in bad shape.” Bishop quickly explained.

Your stomach dropped. “Where at?”

“The factory.”

You kept medical supplies in your car in case of emergencies and in the event the club came calling. It was rare since Bishop tried to assure you didn’t interact with Angel. Bishop doesn’t know what occurred to cause the falling out between you two and he didn’t bother to question it, all he knew was that he was going to stay out of it and tried to keep you away from one another as much as possible.

Right now, all your drama with Angel was irrelevant. You couldn’t focus on your shit with him, you could only focus on changing your clothes and throwing on your shoes. You gave the house a once over before you grabbed your keys and all but ran out of the house.

You knew the way to the factory like the back of your hand, you had driven it countless times due to this exact reason. You had always made yourself available to the MC any time they needed a patch up, some medicine or even just an ear to listen to their troubles, you were there. You did everything in your power to make sure that your past with Angel didn’t interfere with you helping your family and usually that worked well because you were able to patch up a guy here, listen to one there, and you never crossed paths with Angel. However, there were times like tonight where you had no choice but to see the man.

You were so deep in your troubled thoughts that you barely realized that you had made it to the factory. You parked the car and jumped out, doing a half jog to make it up to the door. With every crunch that your feet took on the gravel, you inhaled deeply in an attempt to steady your nerves. Despite you being one of the top surgeons at your hospital, you still got nervous, especially when it came to working on family.

You took one last breath before you pushed into the factory. The typical hustle and bustle of dress making was gone and replaced by dead silence. Your boots clicked on the concrete floor as you made your way to the back of the warehouse. You could only imagine the scene that was going on behind the heavy metal door that separated the regular dressmaking world and the cartel world.

You didn’t linger for too long, your eyes scanned the door and you sighed as you pushed it open and made your way into the room.

The first thing you noticed was the vibe in the air, it was tense, so tense that you felt your own muscles starting to tighten up. The next thing you registered was the groans of pain that were coming from around the corner. You sped up, knowing full well those noises were coming from Marcus. As you rounded the corner, Marcus came into your view and you had to stop the gasp from escaping your lips as you took in his beaten appearance.

A movement from your left caught your eye and you turned your head to come face to face with a man that you formed an unlikely alliance with and saw as a friend. His typical suit was gone, and he was in regular dark washed jeans, black boots, a simple back shirt and a leather bomber jacket. His usually perfect hair was messed up a tad and he had a black bandiana in his hands, you followed his movements and realized he was wiping blood off of them.

“I tried to get them to take him to the doctor across the border, but everyone insisted that you would want to be the one to help Marcus.” Miguel said softly. You could hear the MC shuffling around as you shared this tiny moment with Miguel.

“I would have been insulted had I not been the one to help.” You said with a small smile.

Miguel nodded slowly and his eyes flicked over to where Marcus was sitting. His expression changed to a more pained one before he schooled it back to his neutral resting face. Your gaze followed Miguel’s and you looked at Marcus, he had numerous wounds that made your insides twist with anger.

You cleared your throat and made your way over to him. Miguel followed you and as you neared Marcus, Bishop walked over and pulled you into a firm hug.

“Thanks for coming sweetheart.” His voice rumbled into your ear.

“You couldn't have stopped me from coming to help you even if you tried.” You replied.

Bish nodded and you slowly bent down to look at Marcus’s injuries more closely. Your hands shook slightly as you mentally cataloged all his flesh wounds. You examined his hands, cringing when you noticed some nails had been ripped off. His left eye was black and blue, swollen shut and he had a nasty cut on his neck.

You sighed and quickly got to work. Off in the corner to your right, you could feel Angel staring holes into your skull. You cleared your throat again and clenched your jaw as you cleaned out the deeper wounds. Angel hated being ignored, it was a trigger of his, but you couldn’t risk looking over at him and falling into those deep brown eyes.

“Thank you mija,” Marcus whispered.

You looked up at your tio and gave him a half smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

“I just hope you killed the men that did this to you.” You knew they did, there was no way they would leave them alive.

Marcus chuckled, but it ended up turning into a wheezing cough.

“Miguel made sure of that.” He replied after his coughing fit had subsided.

You glanced over your shoulder and gave Miguel a small smile which he returned.

From the corner, Angel watched the exchange and clenched down on his jaw, physically stopping himself from asking a question that would fuck up the already strained relationship between the MC and The Galindo Cartel. Angel couldn't help the ugly jealousy that stirred in his chest as Miguel hovered over you while your nimble fingers tended to Marcus' wounds. If Angel could put a description on it, he would say Galindo looked like a Pitbull right now, floating around you in a protective manner that made Angel's stomach churn with anxious nausea.

"You good?" Ez whispered from beside Angel.

All he could do was nod, he knew if he spoke then Ez would hear the stress and anger in his voice and he would pounce on it like the little "fixer" he was.

Miguel crouched down next to you, his shoulder bumping yours, and the small contact caused Angel to ball his fists up and turn to look at the worn down wall. He couldn't look at the two of you, not right now, not when he felt a million different complex emotions flying at him from numerous different ways.

"Chill mano." Coco said softly from Angel's other side.

Angel rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest as he tried- but failed to block out your voice.

"He should be good after I stitch up this last wound here, he needs to rest Miguel." You stated in a professional yet sentimental tone.

You could feel Miguel's shoulder pressed against yours and your nerves kicked up just a tad. Miguel Galindo was a powerful, intense man with perfect bone structure and impeccable fashion taste. Underneath all of that- was a brutal, animalistic cartel leader who killed numerous people in the past.

Ever since Day 1, when Miguel walked into your hospital carrying his trampled wife, you managed to look past his cartel dealings. You always saw him- the man who was family oriented, loyal, fiercely protective and charming. All of your assumptions about him had became more permanent this year, after you spent almost every day tending to Dita's third degree burns.

Shit- Miguel practically hired you as his mothers personal doctor. Still to this day you saw her once a week, every week, to check in on her healing.

"There,” you gave him a small smile. “All better." You whispered as you finished off the last stitch and sat back on your heels. Marcus grimaced slightly, but he already looked so much better.

The elephant size weight on your chest lifted, and you found it easier to breathe now that he was okay.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Miguel rise to his feet. As you packed up your medical supplies, the cartel leader helped Marcus to his feet. You glanced up at him, making sure he had good balance and could stand.

You smiled at him when he could and you happily shut your kit.

As you went to stand, Miguel stretched out his hand for you to take. You didn't hesitate in grabbing it, and his long warm fingers wrapped around your hand and he pulled you up softly.

"Thanks." You stated as you let go of his hand and brushed off your pants.

"No, thank you. Truly, Marcus wouldn't have survived without you." Miguel responded.

"Please," you began

"Its true Mija. Thank you. I owe you so much." Marcus said cutting you off.

You gave him a half smile and moved to give him a soft hug, which he returned.

"Bed rest." You stated firmly as you pulled back.

"Yes ma'am." Miguel joked. Your eyes flicked up to his face and you took the time to appreciate his rare smile.

"Off you go then," you mumbled, bending down to pick up your kit.

Miguel nodded once more and then with the help of Nestor, he helped Marcus out of the room.

"Thanks for the call Tio." You said as the president came up to you.

"Nah, no worries. Just glad we got you to patch us up when we get hurt."

"Yeah, if you guys could stop doing that, that would be amazing." You said scrunching your face up as you followed your Tio outside.

The rest of the MC trudged behind, and you were silently thankful that Angel was all the way in the back.

Once outside, your eyes watched as Nestor got inside the SUV and drove away. You followed their vehicles for a split second before you turned your attention back to Bishop.

"Are there any other injuries I should know about?" You questioned with an arched eyebrow.

Bishop laughed and shook his head before he pulled you into a tight hug.

"Thanks sweetheart, go home, get some sleep." He said softly as you pulled out of his embrace. You gave him a smile and started to walk back over to your car. You pulled out your keys and fiddled with them for a second, trying your best to avoid looking over your shoulder at the MC.

You sighed as you unlocked your trunk and threw your medical kit. Your fingers gripped onto the cool metal of your trunk and you took a moment to steady yourself before you slammed it shut with more force than needed.

As you looked up from your car your eyes connected with Angel's. Even from across the lot, you could tell he was upset. His face was impassive and disconnected from everything around him. His eyes looked dead, and while part of you wanted to go over to him and hug him, the stronger, more irritated part of you wanted nothing to do with Angel.

He had hurt you-- and it had taken everything in you to leave him, but you managed to do it.

You swallowed thickly and ripped your eyes away from Angel. You could feel your throat closing off and you quickly jumped into the car. You glanced down at your body for a moment before you inhaled deeply and started the car.

You chanced one last look at Angel before you put the car in reverse and backed up. He was shaking his head and listening to something Ez was saying while twisting his rings absentmindedly.

You sighed again and peeled away towards your home. It never got easier when it came to seeing Angel, and the fact that a stray tear had fallen from your eyes and landed on your cheeks only solidified that fact for you.

The drive back to your house was quick, and you barely remembered it due to being so deep in thought.

You groaned as you pushed yourself out of your car, your lower back was killing you, and your feet felt like you had been walking on hot stones all day. All you wanted to do was to climb back in bed and sleep through your entire three day weekend.

As you opened your front door, your phone began to ring again and your body deflated at the thought of another Mayan needing your help.

You pulled out your phone and a wave of surprise washed over you when you saw it was Miguel.

You quickly answered it and tried your best to keep the exhaustion out of your voice.

"Hey."

"You sound tired." Miguel stated.

You rolled your eyes and dropped your stuff off on the kitchen island before you kicked off your shoes and padded down the hallway to your room.

"Yeah, busy week." You replied.

You heard Miguel hum on the other end of the line and the break in the conversation made you nervous.

"What's up?" You questioned, running out of patience.

"I wanted to ask you to dinner, as a thank you for saving Marcus's life."

A you could respond with was a lame "Oh," you froze in the doorway to your bedroom and searched for the right words to say.

"Tomorrow. 7 o'clock, at The Rosa. I can have a car pick you up." Miguel responded smoothly as ever.

You chewed on your bottom lip as you considered his proposal. Over the months you and Miguel had steadily become good friends, you enjoyed spending time with the man and loved his entire family. Every time you visited his house you ended up staying for hours, either talking with Dita, joking with Emily or playing with Cristobal.

"Um sure… yeah, that sounds great Miguel." You finally answered

"Perfect! See you then, oh and Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Get some sleep por favor."

You smiled to yourself and nodded.

"You got it boss."

Miguel chuckled and the pair of you wished each other a goodnight before you clicked off the phone and tossed it onto your inviting bed.

It took you no time at all to strip out of your clothes and tuck yourself into your sheets. As soon as your head hit the pillow, your eyes closed and you drifted off into dreamland.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

You woke to the sounds of birds chirping outside as the sunlight peeked through your shades and welcomed the morning to you.

You stretched and let your hand run absentmindedly up and down your stomach while the other hand rubbed the morning crust out of your eyes.

You loved waking up naturally, without an alarm barking at you or your phone blaring arrogantly. You sighed and let both of your arms fall onto the mattress with a soft thump.

Mornings like these were always so still and quiet. You reveled in it, if was one of the few times where your mind was just as silent as the world around you.

You let your arm feel around for your phone and when you found it, you looked at the time and sighed.

11:00 am

Despite wanting to stay in bed, you did have a lot to do today. You had to go to the grocery store, wash your clothes along with your dishes and then you had to go visit your mother's grave and wish her a happy birthday. On top of all of that, you had to get back here and get ready for dinner by 7 PM.

You groaned and checked your messages, a small smile formed on your lips as you read one from Coco.

Coco: Can you talk to Letty? She is out here running around with this boy who is shit. She won't listen to me. Maybe she will listen to you.

You chuckled and imagined the conversation that Letty and Coco had about her new boyfriend. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been successful otherwise he wouldn't have texted you.

You: Yeah I can come over to the clubhouse later around like 8 or 9? Talk to her?

You went to turn off your phone, not expecting Coco to respond right away, but the ding caused your attention to shift back to your phone.

Coco: Yeah, yeah that will work. We are having a party here tonight anyway..sure she is gunna show up with Gabi."

You smiled again and clicked off your phone before you threw the blankets off of your body with a sigh.

"Let's start this day." you muttered to yourself.

It took you no time at all to throw on some comfy athletic clothes.

First thing to do was head to the graveyard to visit your mother.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

You sat down on your couch and let out a yawn. You opened your water bottle and drank like a dehydrated animal. The cool water rushed into your throat and you loved the way the refreshing feeling seeped through your whole body.

You stroked your stomach again and sighed.

You had to start getting ready, dinner was in an hour and you looked like you just finished running a marathon.

The timer on your dryer pinged signaling the completion of your final load of clothes. You thought about getting them out and folding them, but you didn't have the time, nor did you feel like it.

You finished off your water and pushed yourself off the couch and to your room. You already had an idea of what you wanted to wear and you went straight to your closet to pull it out.

It was a simple dark green dress that had a V neck, and thin straps. It came to your knees and had a small slit in it that revealed your thigh. You decided to pair it with some black heels that wrapped around your ankle and your black clutch that matched.

You moved to your bathroom to do your hair, settling on straightening it. You kept your make up simple yet effective. Dewy foundation, brown eyeshadow, filled in brows with a nude lipstick.

You finished off your hair and make up and took a step back to double check it in your mirror. You flattened some stray hair pieces and smiled at your reflection. You couldn't deny you looked good.

It didn't take you long to put on your dress and heels, and you quickly finished off your look with some gold hoops and a gold minimalist necklace.

You checked yourself out in your full body mirror and you grimaced slightly at the extra weight you were carrying in your midsection, but you couldn't dwell on it, you knew you still looked hot.

Your eyes flicked over to your clock and your timing was perfect as you had 10 minutes until dinner. You walked over to your phone and sat on your bed as you opened your messages.

Miguel- Nestor should be there in 5 minutes.

He had sent that about 3 minutes ago so you figured Nestor would show up any moment now. You smiled at your phone slightly before you pushed yourself off your bed and unplugged your phone.

You checked yourself out one last time before you headed out to the living room to wait. You didn't have to wait long because as soon as you made it to the kitchen, your doorbell rang.

"Prompt." you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed your keys. You opened the door and came face to face with Miguel's best friend and bodyguard.

"Evening Y/N." Nestor greeted. You didn't miss the way his eyes raked over your form before they snapped back up to your face.

"See something of interest Nestor?" You joked before you walked out and shut your door. You turned to lock it and Nestor cleared his throat.

"Sorry." he apologized.

You waved him off and gave him a small smile. You weren't bothered by him checking you out, it was a silent compliment, plus, it gave you a small boost of confidence and that never hurt anyone.

"The drive should only be about 10 minutes." Nestor said as he pulled the SUV out of your driveway.

"I know, I have lived here my whole life." You joked, wanting to lighten the air between you two. Nestor was always so stiff and you felt the need to help him ease up. You weren’t his boss, you weren’t reporting anything to Miguel, you just wanted him to chill out.

Nestor chuckled and shook his head. "Sorry, I'm just not used to Mikey having friends. Don't really know how to talk to you." Nestor stated as he looked at you in the rearview mirror.

You shrugged and moved a stray piece of hair out of your face. "Talk to me normally, I’m a normal person you know.”

Nestor huffed, but didn't say anything else. You weren’t normal, not to him. Miguel Galindo was fond of you and you were Mayans royalty. The rest of the drive was completed in a comfortable silence. You had expected to be nervous, going out to dinner with the most powerful man in Santo Padre, but you found yourself calm, collected and excited to see your friend in a more relaxed setting.

Truthfully, you liked him better like that anyway.

"Here we are." Nestor announced as he pulled up to the front of the restaurant. There was a line outside, but you knew Miguel was probably already inside, waiting for you.

Nestor came around to open your door and you smiled as he helped you out.

"Thanks Nestor."

"No problem. Mikey is inside."

You nodded and smoothed out your dress before you walked over to the restaurant, past the line of hungry people and into the door. Your eyes scanned the dining room, but you couldn't seem to find Miguel. You pursed your lips and glanced over at the hostess, she was on the phone but you decided to walk over to her anyway.

"Yes, yes, thank you. Hi! Welcome to the Rosa, how may I help you?" The hostess said as she hung up the phone.

"Hi- um I'm here for Miguel Galindo." You stated.

The lady looked up at you and arched an eyebrow before she schooled her shocked expression back a neutral one.

"Right this way ma'am." She said before she walked off towards a private area. You rolled your eyes and followed her- you should have known Miguel would be in a VIP area.

"Here you are, enjoy."

At the sound of the hostess, Miguel glanced up and locked eyes with you. He smiled and stood up as you walked over to him.

"Hi, you look beautiful. Thank you for meeting me." Miguel said as he came around the table to pull out your chair.

"Such a gentleman and no problem. I'm always down to eat.” You placed your phone face up on the table. “Oh, how rude of me, you don’t look too bad yourself Miguel.”

You weren't lying, the man had impeccable taste in clothing. Currently he was in a light grey suit, with a black tie and matching shoes. His hair was perfectly gelled back, and his beard was groomed to perfection.

Typical.

Miguel laughed and pushed your chair in slightly after you sat. He rounded the table and sat back down, scooting his chair in once before he leaned back and evaluated you.

"How are you?" He asked.

You shrugged and opened the menu that was in front of you. "Good, tired but ya know, what's new."

"Did you not sleep last night?" Miguel questioned, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table.

You glanced up from your menu and held his gaze for a moment before you looked back down at the food selections.

"I did, but I'm a surgeon, I'm always going to be tired." You stated. Your body was always playing catch up with all the sleep you lost over the years, both through surgery and Angel.

Miguel hummed and opened his mouth to say something but the incoming waiter interrupted him.

"Good evening, my name is Ezra, I'll be taking care of you tonight. Mr. Galindo can I start you off with any drinks?"

You rolled your eyes, of course Miguel didn't have to introduce himself.

"Yes, I'll have a bottle of whatever wine is featured tonight, and two glasses."

Your eyes flicked up to Miguel's face and your eyes widened for a fraction of a second. A weight settled on your chest and suddenly it felt a little hotter in here.

"Uh actually Miguel, I'll have water,” you corrected.

Miguel looked at you but didn't say anything, the waiter nodded and he took off to get your drinks.

As soon as he was out of ear range, Miguel turned his full attention to you. You squirmed slightly under his questioning gaze and you let out a sigh before you closed your menu.

"I can't drink okay?" You whispered.

You watched as understanding washed over his face, his eyes flicked to your stomach and then back up to your face.

"I didn't realize you were seeing someone." Miguel said softly. You were surprised at how soft and nonjudgmental his tone was. You had expected him to be harsh, or even condescending, but once again you were taken aback by Senor Galindo.

"I'm uh, I’m not." You corrected him. “I was seeing someone.”

“A shame, what an idiotic man for letting go of such a lovely woman.” Miguel leaned back, pursing his lips. “Does he know?”

“He doesn’t, I’ll tell him eventually, things are just…….rocky.” You didn’t want to divulge further. You didn’t want Miguel to find out you were pregnant with Angel’s baby. It wasn’t the judgement you feared, you knew Miguel saw the MC as beneath him, but saying it out loud meant it was real. That you were pregnant. You meant to tell Angel when you found out, but after you broke up four months ago, it never seemed like the opportunity was right.

You recalled that night then, the fight that broke you and Angel apart. It was a stupid fight, now that you think about it, you got on Angel’s case due to some laundry on the floor. For some reason, that escalated into a huge fight between you two and you broke up with Angel. You weren’t proud of how you ended things, but that whole week had been surgery after surgery, sleep was basically non-existent. Instead of talking it out with Angel, you took it out on him. Despite that your relationship had not exactly been perfect leading up to that week. Angel was always on a run with Adelita, you weren’t exactly a fan of their budding relationship, especially knowing the truth between them before Adelita joined forces with the cartel.

Jealousy, lack of sleep and hormones due to your unknown pregnancy then, it took a toll and you broke up with Angel. Instead of fighting for you, he walked out, he was tired of the endless fights between you two. It wasn’t hard to figure out that you two broke-up since Angel slept with anything that fucking walked. Your Tio Bishop didn’t exactly miss the break-up between you two but he chose to stay out of it. Your break-up had nothing to do with club business, if anything Angel kept his head in club business to keep himself from going crazy after losing you.

Six years down the drain, over some petty miscommunication. Neither one of you wanted to break the deadlock, you were both stubborn as mules, and unsure of how to fix things. You felt bad, you wanted to fix the mess between you and Angel, or at the least, tell him about his unborn child, but every time you had the courage to do so, the sinking dread came along with it.

You’ve been part of the MC since birth. Your mother was no longer alive and your only living parent was spending the rest of his life in jail. You didn’t want to blame the MC of you feeling orphaned since Bishop and Marcus definitely stepped up, but it could never replace a mother or a father’s love. Due to that, you were reluctant to tell Angel about the baby. Being with Angel frightened you because you were afraid you would either be six feet under just like your mother or you would be doing weekly jail visits just to see him. An even worse thought you had frequently was that Angel could be the one who was six feet under. With his impulsive behavior and quick temper, you always feared for Angel's life.

At the same time, this has been your life, the family that has held you down. It was all you knew.

Why did life have to be so fucking complicated?

“Y/N, I lost you,” Miguel shook you softly.

“Sorry,” you gave him a small smile. “It’s just complicated.”

“Is he a co-worker?” Miguel didn’t want to pry, but he would be lying if he didn’t say he wasn’t curious.

“No, he isn’t, he’s a family friend.” That was mildly accurate. Your family knew Angel.

“Ah, so he’s in the MC.” Miguel wasn’t an idiot, he also wasn’t oblivious, he noticed how the eldest Reyes basically burned holes through him with the way he stared. He wasn’t a fan of the Reyes men, having to deal with the youngest due to Emily and their father who had a weird relationship with his mother. If anything, Angel was the less obnoxious of the three.

“What? What makes you say he’s in the MC?”

“Because I’m not blind, I saw how Angel glared at me.” Miguel chuckled. He noticed how worked up the eldest of the two Reyes’ were. He was a little shit and pushed him further, but he knew he wouldn’t do anything.

Ezra placed your drinks in front of you. You two placed your orders, Ezra quickly brought it down to the kitchen, not wanting to keep Miguel waiting.

You sighed. “Angel isn’t subtle.”

“No he is not, but I cannot say I blame him. You’re a beautiful girl, any man who is near you that is not family would also upset me.” Miguel took a sip of the wine. “This wine is divine, you would have enjoyed this.”

“Thanks for rubbing it in, prick.”

Miguel laughed. “So why have you not told him?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Try me.”

“Just haven’t had time.”

“Bullshit.”

You narrowed your eyes at Miguel, begrudgingly drinking the water, wishing it was wine instead. “We didn’t have the greatest break-up and I’m not really sure how to tell him.”

“Angel, I’m with child,” Miguel shrugged. “Seems simple to me.”

“Nothing is ever simple with Angel.”

“You’re scared to commit to Angel.”

“I’m sorry, did you become a licensed therapist in the span of the one day that I didn’t see you?”

Miguel laughed. “I did not, but you’re easy to read. You try to keep away from the MC lifestyle, but you ended up falling for a man that basically breathes the MC lifestyle. You don’t want to end up like your mother, a drunkard that couldn’t handle the fact that your father was put away for life.” It made you slightly uncomfortable how well Miguel read you, how well he knew you, but you figured it was due to your Tio Marcus. “History doesn’t have to repeat itself. You don’t strike me as a drunkard and Angel, as ill tempered as he is, seemed to be calmer around you.”

“Again, how do you know all of this?”

“Your Tio Marcus worries about you. He favored Angel for you, but it seemed your experience with your parents proved to be too much for you and Angel.” Miguel explained. “Can I offer a word of advice?”

“Sure,” you might as well listen, it’s not like Miguel Galindo was the local therapist.

“Do not fear the past, learn from it. You’re not doomed to repeat it if you learn from it.”

You looked at Miguel, your eyes welling up. He frowned, unsure of what he did that upset you.

“I’m sorry,” he immediately fired out, not wanting to upset you.

“No, you’re fine,” you slightly laughed, wiping the tears that had escaped. “I appreciate the advice.”

“Good, it does not happen often.”

“Well, I’m very touched to be fortunate to earn your wise words.”

Dinner went smoothly, which was no surprise to you. Your conversations with Miguel always flowed well and you never had trouble being comfortable with Miguel. You kept a boundary between you two since you knew the relationship between the cartel and the MC was rocky at best. But you enjoyed Miguel’s company, a much needed distraction. He escorted you out of the restaurant, recalling a funny memory of he and Emily when they were still dating.

Unbeknownst to you, Angel was coming out of a restaurant with Coco and Gilly a few buildings down. He looked up and saw you, his heart stopping, clenching at the sight of you with the cartel leader. Miguel was smiling at you, placing a hand on your stomach. All these thoughts ran in his mind, the most prominent one was that you were sleeping with Miguel.

Why else would Miguel be as protective as he was towards you?

Anger coursed through his veins, he couldn’t believe you would sleep with Miguel Galindo. Cheating was a deal breaker for you, it was the reason you two fought as much as you did. You had accused him of cheating on you with Adelita even though that was far from the truth. While he understood your worries, it wasn’t anything like that.

But watching Miguel handle you with such care, tucking your hair behind your ear, Angel almost charged towards you two, but Gilly and Coco held him back.

“Don’t, he would have you sitting on that pew, yellow raincoat and all.” Gilly warned.

Angel struggled against them, but they watched as Miguel opened the door of the SUV for you, waving goodbye before closing the door. He entered his own vehicle that was behind yours and left as well.

“The fuck was that?” Coco questioned, in disbelief that you were with Miguel in an outside setting.

“I don’t know, but I’m gonna fucking find out.” Angel got on his bike, speeding after the SUV that drove off with you.

Angel kept his distance, making sure that whoever was driving the SUV didn’t notice him. He eventually decided to pull over a few blocks away from your place, giving it ten minutes before he would come to your house and ask what was going on.

It’s been fucking hell these past few months. Sure, he fucked the pain away, but it never lessened what he felt. He wanted to speak to you, to make amends, but he couldn’t swallow it. You broke up with him, for something so miniscule. He knew you two had been fighting, he just didn’t think you would leave him. And now, instead of immediately fixing things between you two, Angel restored to self-destructive behavior to ease the pain. Seeing how you were with Miguel the other night, it irked him. He wasn’t sure how he was able to keep his anger at bay then, but it came back up now.

Were you pregnant with Miguel Galindo’s bastard child?

No, that was not possible.

You wouldn’t sleep with a married man.

More importantly, you wouldn’t sleep with Miguel Galindo.

The longer Angel waited, the more he his thoughts grew darker and darker. His anger was building to a dangerous level and some small conscious part of him knew that he he barged into your house like this, that nothing would get solved. You would probably end up yelling at him, and he would end up yelling at you, a lamp might be broken due to it being thrown across the room.

Words would be said that could never be taken back.

Angel gritted his teeth, as much as he wanted to break your front door down and demand answers. He knew he couldn't. But he was spiraling down a deep hole and he needed something, anything, in order to keep his dark thoughts at bay.

Thankfully- there was a party tonight, and a party meant women, and women meant he could fuck his emotions away.

Angel stared at your house for a moment longer before he kicked his bike on and tore out of your neighborhood.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

You sighed as your eyes roamed over the MC clubhouse. It was definitely bumping, the party alive and well. Numerous people were outside hanging around a fire, and you knew there were more people inside. It had not taken you very long to change and head back out once Nestor had dropped you off.

Originally, you had came.to talk to Letty, discuss her new boyfriend, but after your conversation with Miguel, you had also decided you would tell Angel you were pregnant. You needed him to know he was going to be a father, you needed him to understand that because of that, he was going to have to shape up.

This baby was going to need both parents, it was going to need to be loved by both parents, taken care of by both parents. Angel couldnt do that when he was fucking around with the club and random women.

You sighed and got out of the car.

You couldnt believe you were here to fix things with Angel based off the advice from Miguel fucking Galindo.

Your boots crunched on the gravel as you made you way to the door. The closer you got, the louder the music sounded. For a brief moment you wondered if you could even do this- but you pushed that thought out of your head and walked your way into the clubhouse.

Your eyes scanned the room for Letty, but she was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Coco spotted you and waved you over to where most of.the MC was sitting.

You pushed your way through the bodies of people and let out a breath once you made it to the guys. They all smiled and stood up to gi e you a hug.

"I couldn't get Letty here.” Coco sighed. “We’ve been fighting more lately so I'm not surprised she didn't fucking show." Coco pulled away.

"Don't worry about it, she's a teenager, you two are bound to fight. Just don't let it linger into something an "I'm sorry" cant fix." You statedz

Coco nodded and took a step back allowing all the guys to give you a hug. The last one to hug you was your Tio Bishop. His hug was warm and welcoming per usual, and you felt yourself lingering in his comfort for a few moments longer.

"Everything okay?" Bishop asked as you pulled away

You swallowed and nodded. Bishop was another person you had wanted to tell, but never found the right time to. You didn't know if he would be happy or angry at you for getting knocked up with Angel's kid, but eventually you knew you were going to have to tell him.

"Uh yeah, actually, have you seen Angel?" You questioned looking around.

Bishop arched an eyebrow at you and evaluated your face before he cleared his throat and shook his head.

"Nah, maybe Ezekiel knows." he said pointing over to the bar.

You followed his point and saw that Ez was standing at the bar with his girlfriend Gabi. You turned back to your Tio and thanked him with a smile before you B-lined it to the bar.

"Yo E-" You called out once you got closer to the pair.

Ez and Gabi turned around and when they realized it was you who called Ez, they smiled. You rushed to give Gabi a hug first and then repeated the process with Ez.

"Hey! What are you doing here?" Ez asked over the music.

"Funny story- I was supposed to talk to Letty about her boyfriend, but she didn't show, so I'm looking for Angel now. I gotta tell him something." You answered.

"Her boyfriend is disgusting." Gabi chimed in.

You laughed as Ez looked over your head, searching for his brother.

"Honestly Y/N, last time I saw him he was heading outside. Said he needed to use my trailer for a phone call. Figured he was calling you." Ez said.

Your chest tightened slightly at the thought of Angel using Ezekiel's trailer, your mind floated to all the bad things that he could be doing in there but you stopped yourself.

"Don't fear the past, learn from it."

Miguel's words echoed in your head and you silently chanted them in your head repeatedly.

"Is it cool of I go check?" You asked.

"Did you need me to go?" He questioned.

"Nah- I'm good. Stay here, we shouldn't be long." You lied.

Ez nodded and you turned on your heel to head out to the trailer. You were determined to tell Angel that you were pregnant. You were determined to fix things between the pair of you and you knew that the conversation wouldn't be easy, but it needed to happen.

As you neared the trailer you heart rate kicked up. Your palms started to get clammy and you felt nauseous. You rubbed your belly gently as you looked down at the tiny bulge that was beginning to form.

"We got this little one," you whispered to yourself.

You inhaled and let out a slow controlled breath before you knocked on the door. There was no verbal response, but you could hear the shuffling sounds just behind the door so you figured Angel was in there and ignoring you.

You rolled your eyes and quickly yanked open the door before you could change your mind. You took two steps inside before you heard his voice.

"Yo Ez what the fuck, I'm busy.”

You stopped dead in your tracks as your eyes zeroed in on Angel. From this angle, all you could see was his naked, freshly tattooed back. Your eyebrows scrunched together as you realized there was a woman underneath him. You could hear his familiar grunts of pleasure echoing throughout the trailer and you could smell the unique scent of Angel in the air. Cologne, cigarettes and leather- it all mixed together with the scent of sex and it practically made you gag.

Time seemed to slow down and your blood turned to ice in your veins as you fully absorbed what was happening in front if you.

"Seriously bro get ou-"

Angel looked over his shoulder and his eyes connected with yours, his sentence died and his mouth fell open as he took you in.

The longer you stared at him, the longer your exterior hardened. You felt yourself physically closing off and pulling away from Angel. Everything that you had planned to tell him flew out the window and all you could do was stare at him.

"Shit." Angel said as he pushed himself up off the woman and wrapped a blanket around his waist. The woman let out a groan and pulled another blanket on top of her.

As Angel neared you, you took a step back down the stairs. You didn't want to be near him, shit you should have known this was a fucking mistake.

"Y/N, what, what are you doing here?" He stuttered out, upset at the predicament you caught him in.

The wheels in your head were stuck. You could barely process Angel's words and you didn't even realize you were responding until you heard your own strained sounding voice.

"Nothing, this was a bad idea. I'll let you get back to um. Yeah."

You turned away and practically ran down the stairs and to your car. Everything you had been worried about came to the surface, Angel wasn't mature enough for this kid. He was always going to run away and self destruct every time you and him got into an argument. What if you needed time away from him? Was he going to run off and fuck everything that walked??

Hell probably.

How the fuck were you supposed to tell him he was going to be a father soon when he couldn't even take care of himself?

You couldn’t.

You couldn’t risk your child growing up in a household that was bitter and cold due to parental arguments. You couldn’t risk that trauma and pain being absorbed by your child and causing them to have problems with relationships later down the road.

The more your thoughts spiraled, the closer you got to your car. You could barely make out the heavy footsteps that were following you, you sped up, not wanting to give Angel an opportunity to throw some bullshit excuse at you.

“Y/N!” Angel called out.

You ignored him.

You unlocked your car with your key remote and your fingers found the door handle but just as you were about to pull it open, Angel’s large hand slammed against it and kept it shut. You didn’t dare look up at him, your chest was rising and falling rapidly and your heart rate was increasing to a dangerous level. You knew this kind of stress was not good for you and your baby.

Your baby. Just saying that made your insides churn and caused a new wave of nausea to wash over you.

“Y/N, please give me a chance to explain.” Angel pleaded.

You still refused to look up at him. You kept your eyes trained on your window, and in the reflection of the night you could see he was still naked except for the blanket that was wrapped around his waist.

“Explain what Angel? How could you possibly explain why I just found you fucking some girl in your brothers trailer?” You snapped.

Your voice was sharp and icy and you saw Angel subtly flinch away from your tone. You couldn't find it in you to care though, you wanted him to hurt the way you hurt.

“Y/N..please.” He begged

You finally looked up at him through narrowed eyes. His brown orbs were back to normal and they were mixed with numerous different emotions. You could pick out a few- pain, anger, sadness, but it wasn’t your place to help him through those emotions- not anymore.

“Get out of my way Angel.” You ordered

“No- no, wait just let me.”

“Angel move!” You yelled, cutting his begging off.

Angel stared at you for a moment before he lifted his hands up in an act of surrender. He took a couple steps back and you ripped your door open so forcefully that you could have sworn the hinges creaked.

You threw yourself into the car and slammed your door shut. It took you no time at all to start your car and back out of the gravel lot. You watched Angel out of the corner of your eye and he ran his hands through his hair. He rested his hands on his knees and inhaled deeply before he stood all the way up and gazed at your car.

"Fuck you…" you whispered before you backed all the way out and peeled off.

Your anger was coursing through you at such a blinding speed that you didn't even register that a tall, lanky man with long, wispy brown hair was watching you from his hidden spot across the street.

He hummed to himself before he opened his phone to dial his office.

"Oh the trials and tribulations of love." He muttered to himself.

#mayans mc #mayans fanfic #mayans fandom #angel reyes x you #angel reyes imagine #miguel galindo #angel reyes #mayans mc fandom #mayans mc fanfic #mayans #whatupitsastarrynite

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memeadonna · 3 years

Text

Anything for You, Baby

Hello everyone! This is a short little thirst story I wrote for @sendhelpimstupid featuring Sugar Baby Kirishima. The stunning art can be found here. Please visit her page and show her some love!

This story is 18+. Minors DNI

Warnings: Sugar Baby/Sugar Mommy Relationship, Premature Ejaculation, Cross-Dressing, Sub Kirishima, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Mild Choking, Scratching and Biting Mentioned, Vaginal Intercourse, I wrote this in like 3 hours sorry if there are any grammatical mistakes

Word Count: 2,562

Of all the things you were thankful for in life, people were always surprised when you mentioned Kirishima's expensive taste. Your entire relationship had started because he hadn't noticed how much money he'd been spending until one day he was overdrawn. He hadn't added up the totals of his expenses in his head, hadn't realized every time he swiped his card that money left his account. He liked the finer things in life, and how was he supposed to know that his bank account was meant to last him all of his first semester? His parents had told him "figure it out", so he couldn't even ask them for help.

Being at a hero school was tough already – he could barely even enjoy the city nightlife since he was stuck at the dorms between classes doing homework. He didn't even have enough time to get a job outside of school hours. Maybe he wasn't cut out for university, let alone at a prestigious hero school.

You had noticed Kirishima's state of panic, and when he confessed to everyone in the dorm that he was out of money, people (Bakugou and his other friends) had made fun of him. Uraraka and Iida had stepped in immediately, chastising them for mocking him. He tried to play it off as no big deal, that he'd figure it out, and the conversation shifted elsewhere.

You'd been born into a wealthy family like Iida and Momo, and on top of that you'd had your own job throughout high school, so you'd saved up lots of money already. "I could hire you," you told him after everyone had left for the night. "Pay you to do things for me."

"I don't need your charity," he'd snapped back. "Did Bakugou put you up to this?"

"I just thought I'd offer to help you since we're friends," you answered calmly, before getting up and heading to your dorm. That night you'd sat up late regretting ever asking him if he needed help.

Early the next morning he was at your door. "What kind of things?" was the first thing he asked, as you rubbed your eyes and blinked up at him blearily. You made him repeat himself twice because the words didn't stick in your brain this early.

"Clean my room, do my laundry," you'd finally told him, offering what you hoped was a kind smile. "Other things when I want them." The blush he gave you at those words more than made up for his harshness last night.

You'd started slowly, of course. You gave him rewards for handing in assignments on time, taken him out to dinner when he got good grades, and little treats for random things. "Do I always need a reason, baby?" you'd asked him one night as he examined the concert tickets, you'd just given him. You'd been delighted to accept the ticket he gave back to you and had secretly smiled to yourself as Denki had whined and complained that Kirishima had promised to take him! But that was back when Kirishima was spending his money on everything. Now he was just spending it on himself.

One day, half-joking, you'd gifted him a French Maid outfit to clean your room in. It was just a little too tight for him (he couldn't even do the zipper up!), but it was the creamy white stockings and cute little heels you were interested in. He tried his hardest to clean your room, but after the third time he rolled his ankle, he ended up with you in his lap, and let's just say that your relationship changed from there.

You'd pushed him back into your bed and felt him up beneath the skirts and ruffles. You left a smattering of dark hickies over his neck and collarbones, moving down his body with clear intent. He was beet red, sitting up and panting as he watched you with wide eyes. Your hands slipped below his skirts and trailed up his legs, and you watched him squirm. "Aw," you teased, revelling in your victory. "What's wrong, does the baby like getting dressed up all cute and ravaged?"

He stammered with a reply for a moment, but you dipped under his skirt and the breathy gasp he let out as you began to kiss up his thighs was more than worth it. A part of you wanted to pull back out and apply lipstick so you could leave more evidence of your kisses, but there was no way in hell you were going to back down now. You settled for more hickies and a few bites, and by the time you reached your prize, he was hard and throbbing.

You were the only person with a dorm on your floor (luck of the draw), so you didn't dare tell him he should quiet down his moaning, especially not as you slid the lacy panties reverently down his thighs.

It was clearly his first time, and he was squirming in your grip as you gave him a teasing lick. A part of you wanted to pull back and tease him some more, but this was too good to pass up. He threw an arm over his eyes and slipped his other hand into your hair. He arched his back as you raked your nails down his thighs, and let out the sweetest noise you'd ever heard, blowing his load directly in your face before you could even get him into your mouth. After you'd finished laughing and wiped his spunk off of your face, you'd given him the sweetest kiss on the cheek. He'd gone beet red as you laughed, and hadn't said no when you promised him a shopping spree because he was just so good for you.

The sales lady at the lingered store had been surprisingly accommodating when you'd asked her if they carried up to a 3X.

He'd been your sugar baby for all of first year, even after he got his own allowance from his parents. He'd been your boyfriend the rest of your university career (of course, you still liked to treat your spoiled baby), and a few years out of school he'd asked you to marry him, with that same sweet expression he always had when he told you he loved you.

The world saw Red Riot as a strong, manly hero that took shit from nobody. They also saw him as hopelessly in love with you (or with Dynamight, depending on which magazine you read). He was a real Man's Man, always on the covers of fitness magazines or advertising sports drinks and protein powders. He advocated for always being chivalrous and brave, but that Manly Men also took the time to be vulnerable and compassionate.

One thing that hadn't changed since your days in university was the fact that your Eijirou loved to be spoiled. Shopping sprees, private chefs, weekends away… his eyes always lit up no matter what you surprised him with. You were both similarly ranked in the charts, and both made a lot of money, but he secretly adored the fact that you had a bank account you filled up every month just for him. He'd buy whatever he wanted with it, whether it was designer clothes or handbags (for either of you), or any number of things (he particularly liked buying new gym equipment that the two of you most certainly didn't need).

Today had been a hard day. You'd been overusing your quirk and your muscles were sore, not to mention you'd been working with one Lord Explosion Murder God which meant that you'd been ordered around all day.

When you got home, a note from your husband was laying on the counter. Eijirou would be home a little late, and you could order whatever for dinner. Grumbling to yourself, you refused to take yet another order from yet another person and reheated leftovers in the fridge. Take that, loving husband!

You ate standing at the counter in your uniform, and after you'd put the dishes away you marched up to your bedroom, already peeling your costume off. You left it on the bathroom floor as you hopped into the shower, and just let the hot water scald your aching muscles. You used Eijirou's body wash because you missed his smell, and changed into your pyjamas while you combed your hair.

You crawled under the covers and scrolled on your phone for a while, wishing your husband would just hurry up and come home already. You wanted to fall asleep in his arms, hear him tell you all about how he would protect you from the bad things in the world.

The sound of footsteps ascending the stairs woke you from a restless sleep, and you sat up in bed. How long were you asleep? Was that your Eiji?

The door opened, and what greeted you took your breath away. Your husband stood in the doorway with a sheer robe, trimmed with red faux fur. It was tied with a ribbon around his waist and accentuated his hips beautifully. He was wearing red lacy thigh highs and nothing else beneath the robe. He completed the look with a set of Louis Vuitton stilettos, which you noticed in passing due to the stunning everything else the Adonis before you was showing off.

"Hey," he purred. "Heard you had a rough day." He smirked at you as your eyes trailed up and down his body. "Can I make it better?" he took a few steps into the room, undoing the ribbon around his waist teasingly slowly. He opened the robe, letting it fall off his shoulders and rest at his elbows. He had filled out a lot since university, and he was a healthy 7'6 and twice as wide as you. He could lift you with one arm and toss you like a football if he wanted, but as he dropped his robe to the floor and elegantly clicked his way across the room towards you, he had no intention of tossing you around tonight. That thought made sparks dance around your core, and you felt your panties starting to soak.

You sat up on your knees for a better look at him. He ran his hands over his body, shamelessly showing off for you. His dick stood proud and tall and was already leaking for you. You smiled at him as you slipped into your role. "Did you buy that to look pretty for me?" you asked ever so sweetly. "Sounds like you want a reward."

He walked right up to the side of the bed with a breathy "Yes,". You leaned up for a kiss and enjoyed the feeling of him smiling against your lips as he took his time with you.

His hands gently explored your curves, squeezing the plush of your thighs and the soft skin beneath your breasts, and as you pulled back to lick your lips at him, "Anything for you, Baby," felt like the most natural thing to say.

He crawled into bed, careful not to kick you with his knife-shoes, and placed his wrists at the headboard. You attached the restraints with all the care in the world, and ran your hands over your baby's chest, admiring all of the scars that years of hero work had marked him with. "You're beautiful," you told him, leaning down for another kiss.

You painted his chest with kisses and hickies, not caring if they'd be visible the next day. Let people stare. Let people know who your man belonged to.

"I love these too," you ran your hand over his new stockings. "You know lace is my favourite."

"Always the best for mommy," he purred back, pleased with himself as you explored his body. It had become familiar to you; you knew everywhere he was sensitive. You knew how to get him going, how to slow him down, and how to drive him wild. You shrugged off your own pyjamas and he let out a noise of approval, eyes taking in your curves. "You're stunning." He offered, looking absolutely awestruck. If his hands were free, they'd be all over you, but now was not his turn for control.

You slid off your panties and tossed them off the bed, eyeing his body up with increasing lust, before suddenly straddling him and sinking down onto him with a small noise of discomfort. He let out a sharp noise of concern and pleasure, gasping. "You've gotta prep yourself!" He hissed, half-drunk on the tight squeeze.

"Shut up," you answered, and picked up a brutal pace. He let out a strangled noise and arched up into your touch, gasping and whining and looking up at you with eyes clouded by lust as he gave harsh thrusts up into your welcoming body. His hands hardened and unhardened within their restraints, along with a line along his forehead. You wrapped your hands around his throat, and he tilted his head back to bare it to you. His moans crescendoed as you began to put pressure on him, canting your hips faster and faster.

He was drunk off the lust singing in his veins and bent one of his knees to give you better leverage. You freed one of his hands from its restraint and it immediately flew to your hip to help you ride. His tongue was lolling out of his mouth, and his breath came in desperate gasps. "Gonna cum!" he whined, blinking desperately up at you. "Please mommy! Please let me fucking cum I want to cum so bad!" he babbled, blinking his pretty crimson eyes up at you.

You gently caressed his face and smiled down at him. You leaned in closer, giving him a deep kiss. "So do it," you growled. "Knock me up."

His hips faltered and the absolute roar he let out at your challenge sent a pleased shiver through you. He ripped the other restraint right off of the bedframe (along with a chunk of the frame itself) and flipped you onto your back, all without pulling out of you. He kissed you ravenously, his hands squeezing every inch of you. He grabbed one of your tits in one hand as he reached his other down to play with your clit. He threw you over the edge, and as you came around him, his thrusts changed. They were sharp and purposeful as he poured everything he had into your body.

"Mine," he growled out, sinking his fangs into the tender meat of your shoulder. He didn't dare move as the two of you came down from your highs but rolled the two of you back over so he didn't crush you. You laughed a little and cuddled into his chest, enjoying the warmth of a womb full of his cum and the delicious stretch of him inside of you, not to mention the feeling of utter safety that having his arms around you brought. "I love you." He purred, giving your forehead a kiss.

"I love you too," you answered back, smiling up at him with tenderness.

"Did you really mean it?" he traced his hands over your back, massaging your tender shoulders. "You want to start a family?"

"Mhm," you nodded tiredly, before looking back up at him once again, echoing your earlier promise: "Anything for you, Baby."

Taglist: @malicealieness (If you would like to be added to the tag list, please send me an ask requesting it)

#Kirishima Eijirou #sub kirishima #kirishima x you #kirishima ejiro x reader #Kirishima x reader #bnha x reader #Bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha eijiro kirishima #bnha eijiro x reader #sendhelpimstupid #Memeadonna

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yesokaythatsfine69 · 3 years

Text

You Sexy Thing (Levi Ackerman x reader)

Description: Often Captain Levi is a little shit, and sometimes- he needs to be reminded about who's in control.

Character(s): Y/n, Levi

Pov: 2nd person, third person

Warning(s): SMUT!!! PORN WITHOUT PLOT- PEGGING, 18+

A/n: I keep seeing all this talk about pegging Levi Ackerman but I couldn't find anything to show- so in the words of Thanos, "I guess I'll do it myself"

Word Count:

*none of the Gifs used are mine, full credit goes to the maker :)

Your fists clenched, nails digging into the palms, on the verge of breaking skin. The yelps of your fellow squad members caused your teeth to grind. They had to have ran over four miles today- probably more- they had to do suicides double time, all of this shit and more were because the lovely supreme commander of heaven and hell, Squad leader Levi Ackerman had felt their cleaning of the stalls had been less than ideal.

Currently you were in the midst of doing push ups till he deemed fit. You glanced up at the captain, watching as his silver eyes roamed over the lot of you. Even as you seethed and raged- he was still the most gorgeous sight your eyes had ever laid upon. Levi's hair was raven black, in contrast to his light skin and silvery orbs. His hair was what caught you at first- the way it seemed to fall over his eyes just a bit.

It was long enough you could pull your fingers through- you were sure. You could only imagined how soft it must be. Levi facial features also caught you at a loss for words- they were quite dainty. Long black eye lashes, a soft line nose, and thin pink lips. God, was he pretty.

Your eyes moved from their spot, away from your Adonis and to the ground. No matter how pretty he was, he was still a bastard.

You mumbled incoherently to yourself, flexing your fists. The pain of doing another pushup finally getting to you. "Tch, I think you've all learned your lessons." You looked up again, knees dropping. The Devil himself spoke, lifting his hand and waving it in dismissal. "Go to the showers, you brats stink." Blowing a strand of hair from your eye, you rolled your shoulders back, taking Petra's outstretched hand as you bounded up.

No one spoke as they dispersed. You were itching for a shower, and you practically ran to get one.

You were dead tired, dead sleepy, and running on pure anger.

You watched the water flow into the drain near your feet, fixated on nothing but the boiling water as it hit you. Your anger had not evaporated-it simply grew. If he thought he could've done a better job, maybe he should have done it. You slammed the water off.

Or perhaps- and this was just a thought- he could let you get some real training in, instead of wasting your time and energy on being punished.

Punished.

Your eyes narrowed.

You stepped from the shower, one foot at a time.

Perhaps...the omnipotent captain Levi deserved a punishment of his own. Something that would...bring him down a peg.

You smiled, remembering a certain box hid underneath just for this type of reason.

"I think I might have just the thing."

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Levi was just as sexy (if not more) than he was pretty. Something about him, oozed it. Maybe it was the way he walked, confident but not egotistical. They way spoke- his voice. His dry humor, his bleak expressions, his impeccable fighting skills and savagery...his taunt ass, or maybe it was the way his uniform hugged his body.

Your hands tugged at a box that laid deep beneath your bed. It scraped against the floor, finally sliding directly in front of you. You unhooked the latch, pulling out the important piece of equipment you'd need tonight.

You bit your tongue.

--------------------------------------------------

The truth was, you could spot a bottom from a mile away. It was also the people who needed control in their daily lives- people who needed everything perfect. At night they liked to take a break- to be controlled. Who were you to judge? You couldn't blame them, not hardly.

You knocked at his office door. It was late, barely a few minutes before lights out. For several seconds nothing happened, but you waited. Patience was a specialty.

"Come in." The tone was annoyed, and as you entered you could see why. He had stacks of papers before him, a signal candle lighting the room. Levi rubbed his temples, a sign that the dim lighting had an affect.

His eyes flickered up to met yours, "lieutenant Y/L/N?" The air was tense and goosebumps erupted across your forearms. "Captain Levi, I'm glad I caught you." His Expression remained unchanging. "Tch, yeah, I'm sure. What do you want, brat?"

You smiled, your hands intertwining from behind your back. "You to apologise." His entire body paused. Levi twitched his head to the side, a small movement. "Oh? So you're here to waste both are times then, y/l/n." You turned, locking his office door behind you.

Levi stood. "Oi, oi, oi, what do you think you're doing?" You turned back to face him. "The only person who wasted our time today was you." His eyes narrowed slightly. This was a side of you he hadn't been used to. Sure, he'd seen this intense focus on your face before, this same expression you wore when you sliced and diced titan after titan.

"Tch, what are you on about you stupid-" I'm flash you had his hair in your grip, dragging his head to you. "It's not nice to call people stupid, Levi." His eyes were wide, and his face was inches away from your own. "I can forgive that though, especially when you look so pretty like this."

His eyes sunk back, his shock leaving him. "Oi, I guess you've got me where you want me." You smiled, innocence twinkled in your irises. "Not yet I don't." Loosening your tight grip, you gently guided his head to close the gap between you two.

His eyes fluttered close upon impact, the tenseness he often carried with his resolve melting away with the warmth of your lips. You hummed, feeling the way he seemed to open up with your touch. Gently you scratched his scalp, pulling a sigh from his mouth.

When it opened you wasted no time slipping in your tongue. He tasted like tea, which wasn't suprising but was rather delightful. He let out a small groan as she gave his bottom lip a small bite, tugging softly. Her hands slipped underneath his shirt, dancing across his warm chest and abs. The feeling of what lied beneath was enticing and she pulled away eager to see it.

Levi groaned when you left him, an irritated, "y/n." Leaving his lips as his arms tried to find you, to bring you back to him. You escaped him though and worked to pull his shirt off.

When you had an object so important it was natural that worked as efficiently as possible to succeed. With that mindset you had him shirtless within seconds, Levi felt that had to be some type of record.

With his comfort in mind as soon as his shirt was off you folded it properly, working as efficiently as you had to take if off of him. When your eyes met his, they twinkled with something akin to admiration. You smiled and pulled him into a chaste kiss, his tongue moving to part your lips, but fire he could succeed you began moving.

You kissed his chin, and he frowned. "What are-" Then you kissed his neck and a shiver racked his body. His breath quickened and shook, your lips planting directly over his heartbeat. You sucked, making sure to leave him as many reminders of tonight as you could.

Your lips moved down his chest, blessing each nipple with a tug of teeth. Licking a stripe down his v line, you unbottoned his pants. He moaned, "y/n..." Watching as you tugged down his underwear with your teeth. His length sprained free, looking almost as eager as you.

"Stunning..." You spoke licking a line up his shaft. His legs shook at your move and you laughed, wrapping your first around his base. "It can't be this easy, Levi." He blinked looking down at you in bewilderment.

You lifted yourself up, becoming eye level with him. As light as a feather you stroked his cheek, his head leaning into your hand as though it were instinct. "I figured humanity's strongest would have put up more of fight." His eyes narrowed. "Especially since you seem to love giving orders." Your nails stabbed into his skin, his eyes widened and he pulled back "tch! You bitch!"

Your other hand grabbed his neck, squeezing it and bringing him to you. "I've wanted you for so long. Do you have any idea how hard it is to be so close and yet so far, to someone everyone wants." "Y/n." Levi whimpered as your hand tightened around his throat. "Maybe you do know how much you're wanted. Maybe you like it." You let go and he fell forward, you catching him.

"I guess we'll just have to add that to lists of why you must be punished." You pushed him to his knees, his pants still wrapped around his ankles. Your foot spread his legs apart, and kept them there. Your hand found his chin, pulling his face up.

"i hope you like this view, you'll need to get used to it." You pulled up your shirt, taking it off effortlessly. His eyes widened at your chest- you had chosen to go braless. Then, they relaxed, his tongue going between his teeth.

You pulled your pants off next, and then your underwear. The strap you had put on before you left your room flung out, and Levi looked between you and it. "Like I said, you need to be punished..." You stroked the strap on. "I consider this the punisher." You voice had dropped an octave lower.

Levi took on a dazed expression, half lidden eyes taking in the sight. "Open your mouth." His eyes flickered back up to you. They were big and puppy like."I said." You reached down and pinched his two cheeks together. "Open. Your. Mouth." His pretty little mouth popped open, and your hips thrusted the device in. Your hand ran through his hair as he sucked, when you reached the back of his head you pushed him forward.

Levi gagged around your cock, the fake tip hitting the back of his throat. Tears prickled, in his eyes, but your coos to take in more, to be a good boy for you, they caused his brows the furrow as he adjusted and did what he could to please you.

Using your grip on his head he allowed you guide him at your will, submitting to the drive of your hands. His eyes closed finally and your leg pressed up against his own hard on. "Who would've thought humanity's strongest could look so hot sucking dick." You spoke softly, causing your good boy to moan into the dick.

Finally, you pulled away watching the strings of salvia appear and separate as you let him go. His head bobbled towards you, his eyes barely open.

"fuck me...please." you bent down to where he was. "Oh baby..." Again, you stroked his cheek gently. "I'll do so much more than that to you. When I'm done with you...you won't be able to walk tomorrow." His breathe caught and you laughed. "Be my good boy and go to your desk. Ass out."

You watched him stand and walk to his desk, still filled with long forgotten papers and a dimly lit candle. You stood and moved to the neat pile you had placed his clothes in.

You pulled out his belt, smiling and snapping it. This could be useful.

You moved to where he stood, wrapping yourself behind him. "How well you listen, Levi." You slammed his upper body down onto the desk, pulling his hips up. His ass was on full display in the air, as perky as you imagined. Taking two fingers, you shoved them up is mouth.

Levi didn't need a command, his tongue went right to work. He wrapped it around your fingers while he moaned, pushing his hips against you and your cock.

"cheeky, cheeky." You smirked taking your free hand to grab his ass. Finally satisfied you pulled her fingers from his mouth.

"more..." His voice rasped out. "More? I haven't even started." With that you pushed your fingers into his tight hole. You began scissoring them, watching as he twitched beneath you. His breathing became louder the more you curled. Then you hit his prostate and he cried out, gasping at the intense pleasure you gave him.

Your fingers pulled out, and you reached for the belt that you had placed beside him for such a moment. "Tch, y/n please you must-" you reared the belt back and slammed it forward, the belt bouncing off his ass with a thrup! Sound. He gasped delightedly, his cheek pressed up against the cold metal of his desk.

Again you reared down, jolting his body. "You." Slap. "Think." Slap. "That." Slap. "You." Slap. "Can." Slap. "Just." Slap. "Treat." Slap. "People." Slap. "Like." Slap. "Shit." Slap. "Just." Slap. "Because." Slap. "You." Slap. "Are." Slap. "A." Slap. "Squad." Slap. "Leader." Tears streamed from his eyes, ass red and tender.

"you can't." You grabbed his hands from his sides, "and now you're going to be tied up with your own belt, right after you were just spanked with your own belt." You slide the belt around till it was tight enough to only hurt a bit.

Then you you raised his hands directly over his head. This was used as something to grip onto while you fucked him.

Her other hand made sure you two were properly aligned, and with little more than a grunt you thrusted in. A breath released from his body, a shout escaped his lips as you bottomed out.

You waited several seconds, gently stroking his face and cooing to him, waiting. Finally he nodded, telling you everything you needed to know. You pulled back, almost completely out, save for the tip before you plowed into him.

Your hips thrusted- hard and faster. The only way Levi Ackerman deserved- rough. Each time you bottomed out he grunted and it became a steady rhythm of grunts.

"nnnuh...nuuhhnn..ahhh..." He was drooling, each hit of his prostate weakening his resolve a bit more and making him a bit more needy for more.

Your position made it almost impossible for him to move and he could really only met your thrusts. "Harder!" He gasped out, tears running down his face, drool dripping from his mouth.

Your hand reached around and tugged along his dick, high pitched whines now leaving the captains mouth. "Y/n! Y/n I'm so close please, please." You bent down and bit into his shoulder, causing another Yelp to leave the squad leader.

"cum, bitch." You whispered to his ear and with a cry Levi Ackerman came, his eyes practically crossing as he painted his chest and desk white.

He laid their several seconds, breathing harshly and listening to the sounds of your praises. He was a good boy, he was. He was your good boy now, all yours.

Gently you helped him up and into his shower, fully discarding his bottoms and your strap, to take back to your room to wash.

You cleaned, scrubbed, and were as gentle as possible, making sure to help him to his bed.

You pulled your shirt over your head. "I can stay till you leave for breakfast...if you want that is but-" he cut you off. "Tch...Stay as long as you want." He pulled himself up and onto his elbows. "Especially since you didn't cum."

You raised a brow. "Levi, I appreciate it, but I don't think you're read yet...I mean- we-" again he cut you off. "Y/n, my mouth is always ready."

You paused. He was right, you hadn't cum and not very often did the people you slept with care. He was offering his mouth to you- not that Levi surprised you much- he was very caring and it seemed natural he'd be that way in bed.

You smiled and tugged off your shirt. "I hope you're hungry." You crawled into the bed, barely having to do a damn thing as Levi simply hoisted you up- as if you weighed nothing- and sat you on his face.

His nose carded through your folds- parting them for his tongue. Your hips buckled against him, thighs closing around his face. His hands came up and wrapped around them, pressing them together.

"Fuck, Levi." You moaned as his tongue licked from your hole to your clit, where he sucked for several seconds. Again he pushed his nose up into you, allowing you to ride his face and practically suffocate him. "God, you're so good." You squealed, yanking at his raven locks. He had definitely done this before and definitely knew how good he was.

He hummed into you, pushing you down each time your hips buckled up. Finally it seemed he had enough with your erratic movements before he flipped you into your back and moved so that he was on his stomach, mouth never leaving your core.

Your legs wrapped around his head as he ate, each time dipping his head in deeper to your core. His tongue fucked your hole with urgency, meaning, desire and finally with one final plunge you came, wetting his face.

He pulled away, allowing you to sit up. Your legs were shaky, but you moved so that you were directly in front of him. You licked your juices from his face, meeting him in a chaste kiss.

"Maybe I should be more harsh on you cadets more often." He spoke hurriedly as she pushed him down. You tutted. "Did you really learn nothing, my sweet boy?" He shrugged allowing you to pin his hands down above him.

"What can I say? I am the leader of the brats."

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BONUS

Erwin frowned at his friend and colleague. The two had been eating breakfast together and everything had seemed rather ordinary until Erwin noticed a bruise on the side of Levi's neck.

"uh..Levi?" Levi glanced up. "Where did you get that bruise?" Levi frowned at Erwin. "What bruise?" Erwin rolled his eyes impatiently. "The one on your neck."

"Hello everyone! I hope everyone slept well!" Hanji appeared interrupting the conversation. She slid into a chair on the other side of Levi, smiling happily.

Erwin made a few more glances at Levi's neck, but felt it best to leave it, lest he be smitted by the all powerful Levi Ackerman.

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A/n: BARK BARK BARK okay I definitely got a bit...carried away. Anyways I hope you enjoyed this, thanks for reading, and pls feel free to give critism!

#levi x y/n #levi aot #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #captain levi #levi attack on titan #levi smut #captain levi smut #levi ackerman smut #smut #sub smut #sub levi #x reader

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nevertheless-moving · 3 years

Text

Star Wars AU #20: MacenJar AU

Inspired by this meme and with permission from @simpskywalker

This au is dedicated to everyone who told me that this concept ‘gave them a headache’ or ‘psychic damage’. Especially that special someone who begged me to ‘please stop’ because ‘i hate this, i hate this so much’ and told me ‘please don’t say more words about this.’

Crack Lies Ahead, enough to consume a man. I have spoken.

“Ani. Ani. Anakin Skywalker.”

“Hmm?” The dulcet sounds of Padme calling his name dragged Anakin from sleep against his will.

“Anakin, you have to get up.”

He groaned, rolling over. “...here’s my face...I’ll...be awake in a second...just sit down...I’m awake...”

“No, Anakin you have to leave, remember. You have a 5 AM take-off scheduled, and you made me promise I would get you up early this time, come on.”

She cruelly yanked the covers away. He gasped in betrayal.

“My own wife...how could you.”

“Anakin if you’re not out of bed in the next 30 seconds the next time you beg to stay the night because ‘you can get up early, you swear’ I am kicking you out before anyone sits anywhere near anyone’s face, do you understand.”

He sat bolt upright and stumbled out of bed. “Ok, Ok, I’m up I- Padme!”

“Yes?” She asked sweetly, brushing her hair at the vanity.

“It’s 3 AM!”

“Yes I know, you were going to stop at that bakery I recommended, remember?”

“You woke me up an hour and half early so I could stop at a bakery,” he asked, disbelieving.

“Yes, Anakin, it was your idea. It was going to be your cover, in case anyone wondered what you were doing in the building.”

“That is-” before he could call it the stupidest idea he had ever heard, the memory of promising Padme that staying the night was a good idea because it would facilitate his cunning ruse (he was distracted, ok? Padme was wearing a lot of layers) came rushing back.

“-right,” he finished lamely.

Padme just hummed and began braiding in her cosmetic forcefields.

Anakin managed to stretch, complete his morning refresher run, and arrange his robes in a suitably decorous fashion by the time Padme had established the base layer of her hairstyle for the day.

A quick kiss- no goodbye, it hurt too much to say goodbyes in war - and Anakin was out the door.

He idly scratched his chin, vacantly looking out the lift and vaguely considering growing a beard. The pre-dawn view was quickly replaced by metal walls as the ride dropped below the skyline.

The transparisteel pod began to slow scarcely one third of the way down. Anakin suppressed a groan and tried to arrange his expression in Jedi-stoic manner, hoping that whoever got in the lift with him would be too intimidated by seeing a Jedi close-up to think about what they were doing in a Senatorial Apartment building at 3:15 in the morning. If they ask, I’m visiting the famous Bebbisun Bakery. Bennison? BELLASAN. I’m visiting the Bellasan Bakery.

Actually, anyone getting into the elevator this early was probably also doing the walk of shame so it’s probably fi-KRIFFING SITH SPIT THAT’S

“Master Windu!” Anakin cleared his throat, trying to lower his voice an octave. “Good- Good Morning!”

Windu’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Ah. Knight Skywalker. Good morning to you as well,” he replied, stepping in the elevator, doors closing behind.

The lift descended as Anakin’s heart rate skyrocketed. This was it. Windu had to be here for Anakin. What other possible explanation could there be? WHY WASN’T HE SAYING ANYTHING?

Wait.

What other possible explanation...could...why wasn��t he saying ANYTHING?

Anakin scrutinized Master Windu out of the corner of his eye. Were those...the same robes he was wearing yesterday? They looked like the same robes but then again...pretty much all robes looked the same so this was probably a stupid way to figure things out. Fuck, it was too early for this.

Unsurprisingly, he couldn’t get a sense of the Master’s surface emotions. But his underlying aura seemed...happy? Typically Windu's serene presence had a tinge of righteous fury (something that had frightened him back when he was a child). But now that ever present vaapad edge was... softened? Anakin wracked his tired brain for a more reasonable explanation than- than the obvious but obviously impossible. He had to projecting. Right? Then again...couplings weren’t forbidden (even if Anakin couldn’t quite understand how people enjoyed just- having sex without any attachment).

The corners of Anakin’s lips twitched. The Master of the Order. Getting laid. Master Windu. In the Senatorial apartments. Mace Windu. What level had he gotten on? Above aides...diplomats probably. Should he ask? Force, this was too good- he couldn’t not ask.

Windu stared at him cooly and the knight instantly sobered. What was he thinking? Windu was obviously trying to trick him! If he said anything, Windu would turn it against him! Well, he wouldn’t be fooled so easily. Anakin spent the next several levels of descent staring forward, determined not to be the one to break the silence.

He was so focused that he didn’t notice the lift slowing prematurely again until the doors opened; an elderly Rodian hobbled in. The two Jedi moved even further apart to allow the man some space. The lift closed and newcomer glanced at the humans curiously.

“Aren’t you Jedi? What are two Jedi doing here so early?”

“Bakery,” Mace and Anakin responded in unison, heads snapping to stare at the other in surprise.

The Rodian chuckled. “Oh, that Bellasan place, right?”

“Yes,” Windu replied smoothly. “They have a famously unique caf blend.”

“And you can’t get Sweesonberry rolls anywhere else,” Anakin added quickly, not letting the opportunity to firm up his cover go to waste.

“You mammals and your carbohydrates,” The elderly reptilian clucked, bemused.

Knight Skywalker and Master Windu exchanged wary looks. The door pinged open on level 4848.

“Enjoy!” the overly entertained Rodian called out as they stepped out from the closing doors.

Anakin cleared his throat. “After you, Master Windu,” he said politely. CHECKMATE FUCKER.

But Windu just nodded serenely, striding confidently ahead, past the checkpoints and into the attached upper-crust market. After a very short walk, Anakin found himself in line behind Mace Windu at a pastry shop in the basement of his wife’s apartment building.

Anakin blearily thought that sentence through again, then subtly pinched the inside of his arm.

Nope, he was awake.

Every second that passed Anakin had to fight the steadily increasing urge to blurt out something stupid, and possibly incriminating, if not both. Just say something bland! Nothing about why they’re both here so early. Nothing about coming here before. Something casual.

“Smells good,” Anakin said.

Nailed it!

“Indeed,” Mace replied.

I’m a genius! He actually thinks I’m here for the bakery! He’s never going to suspect a thing! He was probably here for some boring pre-dawn meeting, and now I’ve got the perfect excuse to come visit Padme whenever! I can probably start sneaking off more often, I’ve just got to remember to bring back a pasty or something. And he can’t even say shit about un-Jedi like consumption!

“Skywalker-”

Oh no. Please be about the bakery. Pleasebeaboutthe

“Believe me when I tell you that I’d rather not ask-”

Oh NO. THIS ISN’T GOING TO BE ABOUT THE BAKERY. I’M AN IDIOT.

“-But did you fly here in a temple speeder?”

Cold sweat started to trickle down Anakin’s back as they shuffled forward automatically in the surprisingly long queue. Guess that’s why Padme woke me up so early.

“Knight Skywalker? Did you hear me?”

“Yes, Master Windu, sorry- I was, uh, distracted by the specials board. I, um, have my own hoverbike. Built it myself. No temple resources involved.”

“Sounds...distinctive.” Windu’s tone seemed neutral, but the way he pinched the bridge of his nose was obviously irritated. They stepped forward again. Why are so many people at this bakery so early? Guess we’re far enough down that day/night cycles don’t matter so much. Oh kriff, he’s massaging his temples now. Why is he mad about the bike? Is he going to ask where I landed it? Fuck.

Anakin swallowed the lump in his throat. “I- I thought it would be better to take personal property. Since this isn’t exactly order business.”

“That’s very responsible of you. Such...separation of personal from professional is an important skill for a Jedi.”

The trickle of sweat down his spine increased. The Chosen One discretely wiped his sweaty palms on the inside of his sleeves and prayed that his outer robe was hiding any growing pit stains.

Are we...actually talking about this? Is he going to admit to having an affair? Is he going to tell me to keep this quiet? I CAN BARELY KEEP MY OWN RELATIONSHIP SECRET! Does he know about Padme? Does he know we’re married? Is this conversation still about the bakery visit? Is HE married?

“However...such a vehicle might not be the most discrete. And discretion is also an important skill.”

Is he giving me permission to use the temple landspeeders to visit padme? Is he telling me to take the bus? WAIT! IS THIS A METAPHOR? Is he telling me to come here less? Is this still about the bakery? Did I actually check that I wasn’t still asleep or did I just dream that I checked?

“Do you understand, Knight Skywalker”

“I- uhh. I mean- well, ummm- OH look, it’s your turn to order!”

Master Windu stepped up to the counter.

“Hello, again! Same as last time?”

OH FORCE GODS HE’S A REGULAR. THIS IS IT. I’M NEVER GOING TO GET TO SEE OBI-WAN OR ASHOKA AGAIN AND PADME’S CAREER IS GOING TO BE RUINED AND

“The same blend please, but please add on one of your Sweesonberry rolls- a friend recommended them.”

...Did Mace Windu just call me his friend?

“Excellent choice! Your friend has good taste!”

Mace Windu stepped to the side and Anakin Skywalker stepped up. “...I’ll have what he had.”

A minute or two later, they were walking back to the lift, matching disposamugs and flimsibags in hand.

To try and delay the inevitable, the pale and now very sweaty young Jedi took a sip of caf. He raised both brows involuntary. “This is...really good. Holy kriff. I don’t usually drink caf for the flavor but...wow.”

“Worth the trip?” Windu asked. Anakin choked a little but successfully managed to swallow. He took another sip to avoid answering.

Windu took a bite of his roll, making a small noise of appreciation, “The pastry is also excellent. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth but this is remarkably smooth...I can’t say I’ve ever had anything quite like it.”

“Floral, right?” Anakin said, grinning into his cup.

“Yes, that’s a good description.” Ha! I told Padme I was paying attention.

They drank companionably as the lift indicator dinged closer.

“Skywalker...you’re parked on 4970, right?”

The knight nodded, too afraid to speak. The force seemed to swirl at the precipice of something.

The Master sighed. “Look- I’ve got an unregistered van- this one time only, stow the speeder, and I’ll give you a ride back. If you’re visiting the bakery in the future- please take something with a closed cab. Last thing we need is the tabloids wondering where you’re going...”

Anakin nodded again, more eagerly again. He was practically being given permission to visit Padme! That was totally worth an excruciatingly awkward flight back to the temple! He just had to chew slowly so he couldn’t blurt out anything marriage related! He was a genius!

The lift opened.

“Jar-Jar!” Anakin said, surprised and pleased. “Wow, are you also here for the bakery? This place really is popular!”

“Ani! Little Ani! Wassa you doin here?” Jar-Jar looked around wildly, then stumbled out, foot catching at the gap. Windu darted forward and effortlessly saved the Gungan before he hit the floor, while Anakin stuck his arm forward to catch the closing door.

“Bakery, Jar Jar!” he said as he stepped inside. “I’d love to talk, but we’ve actually got to get back to the temple!”

Windu struggled to untangle himself from Jar-Jar, who was being particularly unhelpful about it, even for him. Wow he’s even clingier than usual this early in the morning. It’s nice how patient Master Windu is being; I feel like even Obi-Wan can be too hard on Jar-Jar sometimes.

“Actually Skywalker, why don’t you go on ahead and stow the bike- I just remembered I meant to pick something up for Council; I won’t take long.”

“Uh. Alright,” Anakin said, catching the keys. I guess I can’t really be late if I arrive with Master Windu.

“Ossa no!” Jar-Jar exclaimed sadly. “I was justa saying to Macey lassa night thatsa I missed talkin wit little Ani!”

Anakin smiled reassuringly as the lift began to close. “Don’t worry Jar-Jar! We’ll- catch uh-HOLD ON did you say LAST NIGHT?!”

Mace’s eyes closed in resignation as the door shut on the pair, Jar-Jar still tangled around the Jedi.

AND MACE WASN’T EVEN TRYING TO PUT HIM BACK UPRIGHT ANYMORE HOLY KRIFF JUST PUT THAT TOGETHER.

Anakin stared blankly at the metal walls as they rushed past. The lone Jedi Knight took a long sip of caff, then carefully placed the pastry bag and drink on the floor. He systematically wadded up the sleeve of his robe and shoved in his mouth. He then spent the next few minutes squealing with unholy glee while literally bouncing off the walls in a manner only accessible to a force sensitive in an elevator. He was still panting slightly when the lift opened on the primary parking level.

We can double date! Padme and I can host! I can help Mace and Jar-Jar plan their wedding! We can reform the order to allow for romantic love! I can be Jar-Jar’s best man! Padme and I can have another ceremony and Obi-Wan can give me away while Mace officiates and and then we’ll all have sweesonbury cake and Jar-Jar can help teach our kids how to swim!

With those dreamy thoughts running through his mind, it was child’s work to follow the the force to the unremarkable hovervan. He was humming to himself when Master Windu opened the door.

He beamed at the older Jedi. Windu scowled in reply. Anakin smiled wider, unintimidated. He genuinely liked the Gungan, but anyone who could spend hours with Jar-Jar had to have a soft side.

“You know, Jar-Jar is a long time friend of Senator-”

“No.” Windu cut the eager words brusquely.

Anakin shrank back, a little hurt.

(Maybe a lot hurt.)

Mace glanced over at the obviously crestfallen young General and sighed before amending his words.

“Not- Not right now, alright? Maybe if you’re miraculously more discrete about this than you are about your affection for Senator Amidala, then we can talk, understood?”

Anakin nodded with absolute determination, glimmering images of fairytale weddings visible once more. Distant, perhaps- but the chance was worth any amount of tongue biting. Now that there was a real, possible future where he could have it all, now that he knew Windu had a heart somewhere under his robes- he could be patient.

He could be very patient.

Anakin calmed his grin down to a smaller, more Jedi-like smile, taking a sip of the cool but still really good caf. He channeled Obi-Wan’s most neutral diplomatic grace.

“Thank you for the ride, Master Windu. I appreciate it.”

Windu gave him an approving glance. “You’re more than welcome, Knight Skywalker.”

Feeling bold, he continued on with his best non-mocking impression of Obi-Wan.

"Have you had a chance to read the latest report on helmet redesigns? I think they might really improve peripheral vision without compromising concussive resistance.”

Mace hummed thoughtfully. “I have. I’m somewhat concerned about deploying such a radical change mid-campaign. Even better gear requires an adjustment period, and I’d rather minimize needless deaths while the troops readjust to hud flow.”

“Yes, that’s a reasonable concern, I was talking to Captain Rex-”

They spent the remainder of the flight chatting comfortably about troop safety and absentmindedly eating (or possibly stress eating in response to the prolonged absence of interpersonal conflict) the box of pastries Mace had picked up. When they arrived at the temple, they divvied up the remainder between them, quietly agreeing that there weren’t enough to share anyway.

They continued their conversation, Master Windu accompanying him to the orbital loading bay.

Obi-Wan rushed over in alarm at the sight of them approaching. “Anakin, there you are- I was starting to wonder if you’d make it. Terribly sorry Master Windu- I hope he wasn’t too much of a bother-”

“He’s not your padawan anymore, you don’t have to apologize for him. Though I do appreciate the reflex.”

“I suppose the concern isn’t completely baseless.” Anakin said, tone deliberately mildly. Mace chuckled slightly and Obi-Wan took a step back, slightly frightened by the sudden camaraderie. Anakin pretended to take a sip from his now empty disposamug to avoid fist pumping the air or cheering.

“I- Yes well- the important thing is you’re here in time for departure. What- what is that in the bag.”

Moment of Truth. Don’t freak out. Focus. Prove you can be discrete, THEN double dates, THEN Jedi Wedding Ceremony.

“Sweesonbury Roll,” Anakin answered placidly. He pretended to take another sip of caf. “Master Windu was kind enough to give me a ride from the bakery.”

“That’s- I’m sorry, what?” Anakin bit the inside of cheek to keep himself from reacting to Obi-Wan’s palpable bewilderment.

“I had to double back and get more, but we came straight here after,” Mace added helpfully, with zero hint of intentional mischief. “Oh and Skywalker- you can call me Mace if we’re not discussing temple business.”

Anakin SCREAMED (internally, of course). Outwardly, he simply bowed politely. “And you’re welcome to call me Anakin, of course.”

He deliberately avoided looking directly at Obi-Wan, his former Master’s bug-eyed reaction already pushing him to the edge, even just visible as it was out of the corner of his eye.

Windu nodded in return. “Safe travels you two. May the force with you.”

“And with you.” Anakin replied.

“May the force be with you,” Obi-Wan rushed to say, after a short delay.

Master Windu turned and exited the cargo bay doors. Anakin threw out the mug in a nearby bin, pulling out a roll and biting into it before turning to face Obi-Wan. They made eye-contact, each waiting for the other to break first. Usually that would be Anakin, but he had goals now. The Knight chewed. His Master’s eyes narrowed. The older man (who may have aged significantly in the last 5 minutes) finally broke.

“Who are you?”

Anakin just sighed, maintaining the Kenobi impression. “Come on Master, we don’t want to keep the troops waiting.” With that, he walked forward, hiding his smile as Obi-Wan followed closely at his heels.

“Since when does my apprentice visit bakeries with Mace Windu?” Obi-Wan asked, almost desperately.

“You’re making it sound like a bigger deal than it is.”

Master Kenobi sputtered as the pair opened the airlock for the short-range shuttle.

Anakin mustered up an earnest smile. “Master? Would you mind flying- I’m still eating and-”

Obi-Wan made an incoherent noise of horrified outrage before fumbling for his communicator.

“What are you doing?”

“NOTHING IS MAKING SENSE RIGHT NOW. EITHER YOU AND MACE NEED TO GO TO THE HEALING HALLS OR I DO!”

Anakin burst out laughing. “Relax Obi-Wan, I’m messing with you, holy shit. Obviously I’m flying.”

Obi-Wan slumped into the co-pilot seat, rubbing at his eyes. “Don’t do that Anakin! My nerves are stretched thin enough by the war as it is-”

“Sorry, Sorry!”

They strapped in and took off, Anakin still chuckling occasionally, Obi-Wan scowling in irritation each time.

They ascended above the towering skyline alongside the first rays of sunlight.

“So you didn’t go to a bakery with Master Windu this morning?”

“Uhh-”

#star wars #my au #macenjar au #star wars au no 20 #crack treated seriously #mace windu #macenjar #ok i KNOW this is crack but i actually worked really hard on it and im very proud #so i would appreciate if you gave it a chance before forming judgements #NOTHING GRAPHIC OH MY GOD #star wars au #crack #crackship #anakin and padme wake up in bed together and have a married couple anidala conversation and then its PG after that i SWEAR #G RATED EVEN #Mace Windu and Anakin Skywalker #becoming friends is my comfort trope ok

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 years

Text

The Long Con Part Two

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: Thanks for all of the encouragement on the first couple of parts of this 🥰💕 I hope y’all had a good week! 💖 Warnings: Cursing; some angst Summary: “Shitty liars need to practice, Pike.”

“Alright, I’ve got a list,” You said, shrugging off your bag and setting it down beside Marcus’ couch. “A list?” Marcus repeated, coming back from the kitchen with a glass of water for you, “Of what?” “Thank you-- Things that we need to sort out before we get to Austin. Look, you’re a shitty liar, right? Your words, I’m paraphrasing,” You tacked on, reaching into your bag and pulling out your notebook and a pen.

“Uh-huh,” Marcus agreed amusedly. “Right, so hopefully if we sort out our details now, you won’t feel so freaked when we’re down there. And you won’t be trying to cobble together facts on the fly. That would get incredibly messy— especially if we’re going to pull this off all week.” “A full week of lying to my family,” Marcus sighed, “Talk about a long con, huh?” You glanced up at him from under your lashes, amused. “God, you’re such a boy scout. And technically you’ve already lied to them, you started the second you told Marnie that you were bringing me— though that’s technically not a lie anymore. Just...Don’t think about it as lying, pretend you’re undercover or something,” You shrugged, flipping your notebook over to your list of questions. “So I’d be lying to myself about the lie? Isn’t that compounding it?” “You’re overthinking it, Agent.” “You might want to start calling me Marcus.” “Right,” You muttered, “I will...Remember to do that.” “So what’s on the list?” Your eyes darted up from your list as you watched Marcus shrug out of his suit jacket. You’d seen Pike in less-than-pristine states before, especially throughout the Coleman case. You’d seen him with his tie loosened, his sleeves rolled up, and when you were half-tweaked on caffeine in your cramped office, it was… more than a little distracting. You leaned forward, picking up the glass and taking a pull from it before setting it down and settling back again. “Basics first,” You said, “How we met. I say we stick with ‘work’.” “That’s not a lie.” “I know, I thought you’d like that.” “I do.” “Okay. How long have we been together?” “Uh...Few months at least-- Five?” “I can handle five,” You jotted it down, “How come you haven’t mentioned me to them before?” You glanced over at Marcus, smiling a little when you saw his panicked expression. “Or have you gotten this one already?” You added. “No, I haven’t-- Work has been busy? Again, I think that would be sufficient, so-- Hang on.” You raised your brows as Marcus leaned back against his couch. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head. “What’s happening over there?” You asked. “We should change how long we’ve been together to...Maybe two or three months? If we’d been together for five and I hadn’t said anything, my family would be very suspicious.” You nodded, scribbling out ‘5’ and writing ‘2-3’. “‘Kay. Are there any significant past relationships - serious girlfriends, fiancés that I should know about? I don’t need full details, just, like, broad strokes so that if someone mentions something, I’m not completely in the dark.” “One ex-wife, one ex-fiancé,” Marcus answered without hesitation. You nodded a little, jotting that down, and stilled when he added, “My ex-wife will be at the wedding.” “Good to know. Is that contentious?” “No,” Marcus shook his head, “No, it ended amicably.” You considered Marcus, his puppy-dog eyes, soft smile and kind nature, and you couldn’t imagine it ending any other way. “She’s still close to my family,” He tacked on. “Oh,” You laughed a little, “Great. That’s gonna be fun for me.” “What do you mean?” Marcus frowned. You shot him a look. “Your family is still close to your ex-wife. You’re bringing a new girlfriend home. You don’t think this could get a little tense? Or is your entire family just as nice as you are?” Your brows rose as Marcus laughed a little, his head ducking bashfully at the question. “We try not to judge,” he conceded, shrugging, “I’ve brought a couple of other people home since the divorce. They’re not going to jump to conclusions.” You hummed, glancing further down your list. Your stomach twisted at one question, but it was one that you knew that you had to ask. “Speaking of jumping to conclusions,” You shifted in your seat, “Is there anyone in your family that might run a background check on me?” “A background check?” “Yeah,” You nodded, “I mean, I know my records are sealed and wouldn’t pop if someone ran a normal background check on me, but if anyone in your family is in law enforcement like you and...And went poking?” “No, they wouldn’t,” Marcus shook his head. “You sure?” “I’m positive.” You lowered your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek to stopper asking for a third reassurance as you jotted the note down. “...You don’t trust easily, do you?” Marcus asked softly. The question turned your blood icy for a moment. But for as much ire as it raised in you, you were careful not to take offense. You knew that he wasn’t trying to get a rise out of you - you were doing the guy a favor, and it would be pretty ill-advised of the man to piss you off at this point. “What ever gave you that idea?” You teased instead, giving him a look out of the corner of your eye. Marcus’ lips twitched with a smile and you returned it. “Alright,” You added, looking through the rest of your list, “Let’s see what else we’ve got before we start drilling this stuff.”

“Drilling?” “Shitty liars need to practice, Pike.” “Marcus.” “Hey, it was better than ‘Agent’.” “At least I’m not the only one that needs practice.” --

“Run it by me again,” You requested, tucking one leg up under yourself and leaning back against the arm of the couch. Marcus sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. He’d ditched the tie, had popped the top few buttons of his shirt, and his sleeves had been rolled up around his elbows. The man looked a little haggard - it was precious. He straightened up, brow scrunching before his head tipped to the side just a little. “Okay. Okay, we met a year ago when I moved to D.C... You work with the Bureau, assisting on cases, mostly art forgeries.” You nodded encouragingly, waving him on. “We started dating two and a half months ago,” He’d settled on that, finally, not wanting to pick two or three, “After we spent so much time together on the Coleman case. You’re an art history professor, you...Have been engaged twice before,” He added, pointing a finger at you. You rolled your eyes a little bit. “Keep going,” You ordered. You raised a brow as Marcus’ brow furrowed a little more, his head turning just a bit. “You don’t have any siblings, you’re not close to your family, and we have not set any plans for the future in stone...Yet.” “Why do you keep tacking on that ‘yet’?” “Because my family knows me. They know I think about those things, and they know I don’t get into relationships unless I really think there’s something there. If they feel me pulling back on that, they’ll think it’s because I’m worried about scaring you off.” “You’re bringing me home not only to meet your family, but to stay there for a week and for a wedding-- which your entire family will be attending. I think that’s a healthy fear,” You retorted. Marcus smiled a little bit, raising his hand in concession. “How’d I do?” He asked. “Much better. You didn’t close your eyes halfway through to remember the details and you stopped ticking things off on your fingers. You do this thing, though, when you’re getting ready to lie, it’s like watching someone wind up for a pitch.” “What do I do?” “You do this--” You imitated Marcus’ furrowed brow and tilted head, “It’s subtle, but you always do it.” “You think my family’ll notice?” “Only if you play poker with them.” Marcus chuckled, slouching back against the arm of the couch and scrubbing his hand over his face. “God, I’m beat,” He muttered. You nodded a little, shutting your notebook and getting ready to tell Marcus that you would get out of his hair. “Wanna go get some dinner?” Was his next question. -- “Did you seriously just order pancakes?” You asked, brows raised. You’d wound up at a diner not too far from Marcus’ apartment - somewhere where the staff seemed to know and were very fond of him. “Yeah,” Marcus nodded firmly, “Dinner is the best time for breakfast.” You chuckled a little, reaching out and taking up your soda. “So, engaged twice?” He asked. You rolled your eyes a little. “Once in college, when I was young and...Quite stupid,” You admitted, “And then once a couple of years ago.” “What happened the second time, if you don’t...Mind?” Marcus cringed a little as he asked. It took you a moment to answer, and he rushed to add, “You don’t have to tell me.” You shook your head. “It’s okay,” You promised, “I, um… I told them that I had a record.” Marcus’ expression softened. “You hadn’t told them before?” “We moved really fast, which I usually don’t when it comes to relationships. I don’t know, usually that stuff is always on my mind when I’m with someone, but with them it never really felt like it mattered. When I did tell them, though, it…” Your eyes lowered to the table as regret twisted in your stomach, “It broke everything.” “Did you tell them what happened?” “They didn’t give me the chance.” The two of you were quiet for a few moments - Marcus digesting this information as you sat in the swirl of bitterness that it had dredged up. “Anyway,” You shook your head, drawing the both of you out of it, “Guess it shouldn’t really matter that they left when they did. I realized later that, given their reaction, they were going to leave no matter when I told them… How much of that you disclose to your family is up to you.” Marcus didn’t say anything for a few moments, searching your face. “Know what I never understood?” He finally asked. “What?” “Why they never nailed any of the people buying from you or your grandmother.” You shot him a skeptical look. “You know that it’s not punishable by law to buy a forgery or be a rich piece of shit.” “You were a kid,” Marcus frowned. You considered this for a moment, directing your eyes to the ceiling to find the best way to order your thoughts. “...I was a minor,” You contended, “But I was old enough to know that what we were doing was wrong. I… I knew that we were duping people, I knew that it was illegal. I knew the paintings were forgeries, and I knew that the people that we were dealing with were dangerous. I’m just lucky I wasn’t tried as an adult.” “You were raised to do all of that and then left hung out to dry by the person that was supposed to protect you,” Marcus argued quietly. You swallowed thickly, hurriedly looking to the table as you felt tears spring up in your eyes. You tried not to think about these things most days. And for Marcus to have this level of empathy, of understanding...You were sure that the man had glanced through your case file at some point when he started working with you, but hadn’t expected this. Most people didn’t look too far past what you were doing to try and understand how you’d come to be in your position. But then, most people weren’t Marcus. “...No wonder I don’t trust easy, huh?” You tried to joke after you’d blinked the tears away and lifted your eyes back to his, a thin smile on your lips. Before he could say another word on the matter, the food arrived.

The two of you tucked in quietly, After a few minutes, you nudged his foot with yours.

“Tell me about Marnie? And her fiancé, um… Hazel, right?” You requested.

Marcus’ face pulled with a fond smile, and you felt ease wash over you again. -- “So, just let me know what the wedding colors are so I don’t wind up wearing a dress that matches them and we should be all good,” You reached for your bag as Marcus pulled his car up in front of your apartment building. “Sure thing.” “And if you think of anything else that your family might ask about us, you know, so we can plan ahead.” “I will.” “Okay-- Oh! Uh… Are you a big PDA guy? Like, is that something your family’s going to expect?” “I tend to be kinda touchy, yeah, but I can tone it down.” “Well, what are we talking about here? Hand-holding, hugging?” “Yeah,” He nodded, “And probably a hand on your shoulder or your back, maybe a kiss on your cheek or forehead or…” Anticipation thrummed through you as his gaze darted to your lips. “‘Kay,” You nodded a little, feeling your heartbeat tick up in your chest. “We don’t have to--” Marcus started to reassure, but you waved him off. “It’s totally fine,” You reassured him, “I trust you.” Marcus smiled at you, a gentle smile overtaking his lips. “Glad to hear it. I’ll get you those wedding colors as soon as I can.” “Thanks,” You smiled, “Night, Marcus.” “Goodnight,” He chuckled as you got out of the car. Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long ; @spideysimpossiblegirl ; @blueeyesatnight ; @elen-aranel ; @yespolkadotkitty ; @artsymaddie ; @phoenixhalliwell ; @lunaserenade ; @winniedaboo ; @empress-palpat1ne ; @randomness501 ; @nutmeg-20 ; @leonieb ; @the-feckless-wonder ; @lou-la-lou ; @captain-jebi ; @supernaturalgirl ; @naturenebula21 ; @evelynseventyr ; @giselatropicana

#The Long Con #Marcus Pike x Reader #Marcus Pike x You #Marcus Pike/Reader #Marcus Pike Fic #Marcus Pike Imagine

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20moonchild21 · 3 years

Text

𝗗𝗶𝗱 𝘄𝗲 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗼𝗹𝗱? [𝗸𝗻𝗷]

⇉ 𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘁

[pairing]

Kim Namjoon x female!reader, Idol!Namjoon x wife!reader

[warnings]

none, just fluff

[words]

1.3k

[author]

No new chapter of 𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 this week. I am so so sorry, but I really couldn’t find the time to write a new chapter. I want to do that properly and not under pressure. I hope you can understand.

My exams will be over next week, and then I definitely will be back with 𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 💪🏼😌 Until then, I hope you like to read this cute oneshot. I had it saved on my computer but never uploaded it.

I also got a lot of messages recently that people would love to leave a message more often (not just under my chapters) but are too scared to make mistakes. English is also not my native language, and I am a 100% sure that I also make a lot of mistakes while writing. But believe me, no one cares if you do a grammar mistakes or if miss a letter. It’s so important to always be brave and speak/write a foreign language, even if that means to make mistakes. That’s the only way to improve your skills. Your message will always be heard as long as you are brave enough and express yourself 💜 it’s no shame to do mistakes.

Enjoy reading and stay healthy

Mꨄ

You watched as your husband, Namjoon, carefully slide his big hand over your baby bump, lifting his hand from time to time to push his half round glasses up the bridge of his nose , and resting them back onto you tummy. In his other hand, he was holding one of his favourite books, flickering the pages, while you were just checking your phone for new baby clothes.

You had never believed your friends how crazy you could get over some small baby clothes until you had become pregnant the first time. It was just so breath-taking to hold those tiny, little pieces of clothing in you much bigger hand, knowing that soon there would be a tiny human wearing them. But as excited as you were for your third baby to arrive, you also knew that from that moment your life would become even more stressful.

Just like the end of that stressful week that finally had ended for the both of you. Being pregnant with your third child sometimes made it hard for your body to give it’s full energy all day long, leaving you often exhausted and powerless. Especially, when there also were two other small toddlers running around the house and making a mess out of it.

You loved your both daughters endlessly. From the first moment you had held their tiny bodies in your arms, you had been falling in love every day again. But despite all aspects you loved about you two children, you sometimes wished that they would not have their father’s energy and urge to move. They could run around the apartment for hours, they could play hide and seek round after round after round, and they definitely could never get tired of braiding your hair or painting your nails all day long.

You couldn’t even blame them. After all, they were you a couple of years old. They were just trying to learn about the world around them, not understanding that your body was occupied with growing another living being.

In such moments, you were just more than relieved that you had your wonderful husband Namjoon by your side. Even though with his sometimes hectical idol life, he had always managed and made sure to support your whenever he could. He would go shopping for you when your feet had felt swollen and heavy, he would play with your two daughters in the living room when you had felt tired and exhausted, or he would just do simple things like giving you a nice message with his big hands whenever your back had hurt.

Totally absorbed in the thoughts about your husband, you didn’t noticed that you had been staring at him from the side all the time.

“See something you like, pretty girl.” He asked in his deep voice, before turning his head to look at you. His right hand never left your baby bump.

“Yes, that lamp over there at the drawer looks pretty nice.” You mumbled, leaning your elbow on the armrest of the sofa and placing your head on your hand, looking lovely at the boy in front of you.

Namjoon turned his head to look at the lamp behind him, before he looked back at you and began to chuckle slightly. Seeing his beautiful dimples and cute cringles left you no other choice but joining in into his laughers.

Most people said that those small moments with each other would get lost once you are married and once you have children, but your relationship had never been affected by that. You had always found way to take time for just the two of you, even if it only had been a meal you both created together.

“By the way, I have to tell you something.” He suddenly closed his book and looked excitingly in your way. “Do you remember that set of plates we found a few weeks ago, but they were already sold out when we wanted to order them? I stumbled over them again this morning, and they were available again. I hope you still want them, because I ordered them as soon as I saw that advertisement.”

You gasped in surprise. When the two of you had found out that you would expect another child, you had decided to finally muck out all that old stuff that you had kept from years ago. The kitchen was your current task to finish. You had found that new set of plates a few weeks ago and immediately, you had fallen in love with it, as well as Namjoon.

“Are you for sure?” You smiled at him, lifting your hands to give your husband a strong high five. “That’s freaking amazing. You are the best, yeobo (honey).”

Namjoon laughed again when you used the softened form of your expletive that you would also you use in front of your daughters. He carefully put his hand back on your swollen bump, leaning over to give you a kiss on the forehead, before turning his attention back towards his book.

The room fell in a comfortable silence again, as you laid your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. It made you proud that your husband was so ambitious and caring about making yourselves a real home. Most people would believe that with his job, he would be more than occupied with himself rather than with your family but luckily, it was quite the opposite.

“Aein.” The sudden movement of your husband made you lift your head from his shoulder, watching as his closed his book, before he looked down at you with a somehow shocked expression. “Did we – did we just get excited about a set of – plates?”

Confused, you kept looking on your husband with wide eyes, trying to bring his words and actions together, until it finally hit you.

“Oh my god. Yes we did.” You whispered in shock, sitting up straight. “We just got excited about a set of plates. What did just happen.”

With your hand still placed on his chest, you both kept looking at each other. Namjoon and you had been together for more that 5 years now, but you had known each other for countless years before. You had been through high school together, and you had definitely been through some adventures and crazy times together.

Those teenager-times had gone by and the both of you had come together. You both had built up a strong relationship, even though you both had to manage your careers meanwhile. But that never meant that you had become boring in some way. Sneaking out at the dorms at night or wild make-out scenarios during his dance breaks had only been two examples of how you had developed together.

Even more year had went by and suddenly, you had become pregnant, bringing both, Namjoon and you, over the moon. That had been the moment you had finally grown up fully together, which was exactly the situation you found yourselves in right now, getting excited over a set of plates.

Meanwhile, Namjoon had broken away from his shock stare. He carefully took your hand away from his chest and brought it up towards his mouth, placing a big kiss on the soft skin.

“Oh my love.” He mumbled, lifting his gaze to meat yours. “I think we are getting old, hm?”

Even though such a realisation was hard to do, it somehow felt right to start that mew chapter in your lives together. Even though if that meant to be excited about a bunch of plates.

“It seems so.” You whispered back, leaning forward until your forehead were touching. “Next time we will get excited is about our new dentures.”

Namjoon chuckled slightly, before bending down to kiss your lips.

“As long as you are by my side when I get those dentures, I will always be excited about it.”

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fanfiction-inc · 3 years

Text

“It Takes Two to Win a Race.” Chapter II

[Previous Chapter] / [Next Chapter]

Verse: Falcon And The Winter Soldier / Captain America And The Winter Soldier / Captain America: Civil War/ Marvel Alternate Universe

Characters/Pairings: Baron Zemo/ Reader, Baron Zemo/ Female Reader, John Walker

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8971

Warnings/Tags: Drinking, smut, m/f, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, drunk sex, Google translated translations, Walker is an asshole and just keeps getting worse.

Summary: Baron Helmut Zemo, world renowned racer and your sworn enemy on the track. You two have been going at it for years now, but now you two must join forces to fight back against John Walker, a new up and coming racer who is proving to beat both of you. Will you two survive the other or meet your demise on the track?

Ao3 Version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32606833/chapters/81176392?view_adult=true

This is a mess. An absolute, blazing mess that sits before you in the middle of your workshop. The chassis was dented all to Hell, a new one having to be rebuilt and delivered to fix your custom car. The engine had parts missing that were left at the crash sight when it was towed away. One car to your name, and it was fucked up. Maybe you should have taken Stark’s sponsorship and invested in a backup. Sitting on the cement floor of the workshop, screwdriver in hand as you pry out bits and pieces of parts from the engine, taking note of the parts and working on the budget you had set out for this year's series of races, you dreaded the moment you’d see the total cost. This repair would take a nice chunk, but you still had money left over after to make sure your car was at its best. That was the thing about working with your car, it was just you and this beast of metal and speed, working as one to reach the end of the line. The screwdriver is set down at your side when you struggled too long on getting the broken interconnecting rod that links the turbine from the compressor, a sigh following as you sit back. A slow sense of dread fills you as you look at the broken parts scattering the ground, the missing parts on your list, and the purple paint that still streaks the busted carbon fiber chassis.

Working with Zemo was a dangerous game, which you recognized even before you shook on the arrangement he had proposed. He was wicked on the course, predictable at times but at others a ticking time bomb of what his next move may be. He was dangerous, but that is what made him damn good. He took far more risk than you usually would when it came to advancement in the race. Where you held back, he pushed forward. No wonder the man infuriated you. But this plan was the only thing you had to get things back to normal, back to the way they were where you hated Zemo with a passion and fought tooth and nail to stay better than him. You would never admit it, but without your rival, what fun was the race? See, it's not only the thrill of the chase between the driver and death, inching closer and closer with each hairpin turn and the risk of the other driver's moves. No, it’s also the thrill of having someone who wants to win just as bad as you, who is just as good and will do anything to try and progress further than you. It sets a standard, something to surpass, something to stay on level ground with when you catch yourself falling. Zemo was your equal, no matter how much you hated him. And equals like you two don’t have room for a third party to jump in and surpass. The game isn’t any fun when someone fucks with the rules. He had a point when it came to beating Walker down, especially since the man was already fighting you both with molotov cocktails and rocket fire in the form of playing dirty on the track. He was bringing a war to a battle just to see if he could come out on top. Despite everything telling you to stay away from Zemo and not get involved in this scheme, that it could end badly for one or both of you, you couldn’t stand the idea of having Walker walk all over you like some doormat. You couldn’t let him walk in as if he owned the place and could rule as he pleased.

He needed a reality check.

Your form pops and cracks as you stand, stiff from sitting on the solid ground and stretching to relieve your body of the tension. Everything felt so wrong, and you knew you had to make it right...But was this the right way to do it? “Jesus, you sound like that rice cereal with the little elves. You know, snap, crackle, and pop?” You laugh lightly when your friend comes into the workshop, food in hand and dressed down from the usual luxury attire he wore when visiting. No suit and tie in sight, just the oil stained wife beater you had seen him in when pursuing your education in the states as he worked tirelessly on his little toys as you liked to call them. He sets the bag down, the scent of the food causing your stomach to growl and pinch with a hint of pain. Have you really forgotten to eat today? You hadn’t noticed. “Got your favorite. Do you know how hard it is to find a restaurant that speaks English? I had to have Friday translate for me.”

“Maybe you should take a new hobby and learn the French language.” You retorted with a grin, the man shaking his head as he sets everything out. “Maybe I want you as my teacher, but you’re always busy with driving around in your fast little car and getting famous for fighting a Sokovian asshole.”

“And you’re too busy tinkering away with your toys in your little workshop in New York. Truly Tony, don’t tell me you actually want me as your teacher when your toys can teach you for me.” You pause as he rolled his eyes, watching the man for a brief moment as he turned to unwrap his burger. “Speaking of said Sokovian connard, he came to the bar I was at last night.” The man paused mid bite on the thick patty before speaking with his mouth full. “Okay, spill, what did he want?”

“Well originally I thought he was going to cuss me and try to blame me for the failure to complete the race yesterday, but he showed me something. You know the young man who won the race yesterday, corriger? John Walker?”

“Yeah, I know the guy. Races for the American McLaren team and came straight from F3 to F1. What’d he do?”

He raises a brow when you sigh, taking a seat beside him on the desk he had set the food down on and stealing the dish he had brought you. “Zemo showed me proof that Walker hit his car and sent him flying into mine. And I believe he did it on purpose.” You explain, taking a bite of the food your companion got for you. You pause for a moment to chew before returning to your theory. “On my way to the car bay, he smirked at me, and it wasn’t a “I won” smirk- well, it kinda was, but it was rather a “I did this to you” kind of smirk. Not necessarily an evil one but one that showed he knew exactly what he had done and was proud of it. Pride in an unfair act.”

“And no flags were thrown up?”

“Non, not a one. As our friend the Baron said,” you cringe at the term friend, “the ones watching the race possibly couldn’t tell if he had done such on purpose or by accident. I believe him about such. And I suppose that brings me to what I’m about to say next.” You take a breath, gaze conflicted and downcast to your food as you speak. “The Baron offered a temporary truce of our rivalry to take down this John Walker, thus allowing us to return to what we do best after Walker is taken down.” He listened intently before his nose scrunched at the idea of such. You two working together? Ha! That’d never work! “And you said yes to this crazy idea? What the Hell are you thinking, (first name)?” Your hands shoot up in defense, gaze rising to meet his own. “I know, I know! It’s a crazy idea, but you know as well as I do that if Zemo and I want things back to normal, back to the rivalry, we have to do this together so Walker is met with further resistance. If I could avoid it and deal with this American scum, no offense, then I would.”

“Some taken, but I get it. I just wonder if you two will go back to the way things are after all of this. Who knows, maybe you’ll become that dreaded word you hate to associate with him in any capacity-”

“Ne t'avise pas de le dire, Anthony.”

“Friendssss.” He draws it out, causing you to roll your eyes at his antics and slap his arm with the back of your grimey hand. He pretended to show a hurt expression before chuckling when another slap came, this time to his chest. “Oh hush, we will never be friends.”

“I guess time will tell.” A shrug followed as Stark finished the last bite of his burger, crumbling the wrapper and lining up the shot with the waste bin in the corner. “He shoots,” the paper lands in the bin, his arms going up in the air. “He scores!”

“Stop goofing around, ma amie. I asked for your help with this and now I need it.”

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Three weeks have passed, and the Germany race is upon you. The Nürburgring, a beast of a track that many racers to this day in Formula 1 fear like a plague sweeping the track. Your mind has been racing as you pieced your car back together and got it ready for racing. What happens if something wasn’t installed in the engine right? What if you didn’t get the intake vents lined up just right? You were a perfectionist with your car, and you know deep down that it was ready for race day but it made your head sing with pain as a migraine sets in. That wasn’t the only thing that made it throb and bring you to lean against the chassis of your car. Zemo’s deal, it worried you sick. But you didn’t have time to think about it much today. You couldn’t dwell on it. You had a race to win.

Your eyes flick up at the speakers, listening to the message. It was press conference time. You take your seat where your name tag and flag set, giving a nod of acknowledgement to the crowd of reporters sitting and waiting to open up questioning. To your left, Walker seats himself with a boyish, charming smile that didn’t quite meet those dark eyes. He looked your way, hand held out to you. “Hey, I hate that we didn’t get to meet earlier on. I’m John Walker.” You glance at his hand before looking back up at him. He played a good game, acting innocent like the boy scout he tried to be. You wouldn’t fall for his games, but you shook his hand briefly. “(First name) (Last name).” He grinned. “Oh, I know who you are. I’ve been watching you race for years now! I hate that you crashed a couple weeks ago, would have loved to have been standing on that podium with you.”

“Oui, such a shame that was. But today is a new day, Mr. Walker.” Your gaze flickered to your right, startled by your rival taking his seat and looking directly at the pair of you. The Baron never sat beside you, even going as far as to request a seat change from the press conference coordinators. Some learned to keep you two separate, others knew it would incur drama, and drama made money.

“Alright everyone, please take your seats and the conference will begin in one moment!”

“Say, did you get your car all fixed up? Must have cost a pretty penny since you don’t have any sponsors.” Walker continued on, this time his gaze looking at the reporters as he gave a brief wave to the ones he recognized from the states. “Oui.” He gave a huff of a laugh. “Not much of a talker, are you?” You wanted to bite back, to say something and throw hands with this man, but you would be escorted out and disqualified in a snap. “Non.” A leg bumped yours under the table and you glance at Zemo who met your gaze briefly. Those dark brown eyes questioned if you were okay, a silent question that only you understood. The slightest nod was sent his way before looking at the reporters who got things settled and ready.

“Questions are now open-” The announcer was startled with the amount of questions directed in the direction of you three, clearing his throat as he nodded to your little trio at the table. Mr. Walker!” He gestured to the reporter, watching him stand and adjust his microphone and camera. “Mr. Walker, this question is open to the three of you. Under allegations from the previous race at The Circuit Paul Ricard, many are wondering if you had caused the accident involving Zemo and (Last name). How do you feel about these accusations?” The man had the audacity to laugh and throw that boyish smile to the camera, rubbing at his face. “Look, that was not supposed to happen once so ever. As many of my fellow racers can attest, one wrong slip of the hand on your wheel and your car will eventually go off track. I got nervous, twitched, and just so happened to bump the Baron’s car into Ms. (Last name)’s car. I feel terrible, I truly do, but it could have happened to anyone with any driver. So I refute these accusations and continue to say this is an accident.”

“And you, Baron, Ms. (Last name). How do you feel about the accusations?” The reporter gestured his question to you two now. “I respect your opinion, Mr. Walker,” Zemo began, the man smiling and sending a nod his way. “But I call, as the Americans say, bullshit.” His smile fell, darkened gaze questioning the man on what the Hell he was going on about. The reporters erupted in questioning, trying to get the attention of the two racers who stare each other down around you. You lean back a bit for them to have a better view-line, One of the American reporters calling your name. You use this moment to break the tension. “Oui?”

“Do you believe you stand a chance as a woman against these two leading men now that John Walker is starting to gain points and nearing your total?” You blink at his question before taking a deep breath, holding it to calm your throbbing head, and releasing it slowly. “Oui, I do. I believe I can keep up just as well as any racer. Take my racing career with Zemo. I have kept up with his old extrémité arrière.” The French reporters in the room resound in a fit of chuckles, bringing a smile to your face. “And against Walker?” You meet his gaze as he stares at you expectantly for an answer, forcing that smile he tried to use on you earlier. “I believe I stand quite a good chance, but que le meilleur coureur gagne.” You shrug, listening as the smaller drivers get asked their questions. The whole time there are eyes burning into the left side of your head, waiting until the racers are dismissed. Walker watches you as you walk out, watching the way Zemo comes up in tow as you make your way to the car bay. Something was up, and he could feel that there were clearly doubts in your mind about the accident in France. He would just have to deal with you later. “(First name), wait!” Zemo followed you into the bay, slowing from his jog to keep up with you to a stop near the desk holding your notes about the race and your vehicle. “I haven’t had a chance to talk with you in person since the bar.” He paused, looking into those eyes of yours that gaze at him curiously. “Are you ready for this, fräulein?”

“Aussi prêt que possible, Baron.” You busy yourself with inspecting your car for any last minute changes, the man watching you as you inspect and work. “Good, good. And we are still a go, yes?”

“Oui, we are still, as you said, a go.” He grinned at you, gaze flickering down your back as he looked over your uniform. Of course he had noticed you in all aspects before, talent and skill being the top, but never had he been this close like the night at the bar and now to really see you. Maybe after all of this, even with the rivalry, you could be friends, dare he say anything more than such. “You’re staring.” You quip, breaking him from his trance to meet your gaze. The faintest hint of color lingered on your cheeks. He coughed, trying to clear away the embarrassment lingering in his form. Why was he getting embarrassed? “Just thinking about what will be left behind when I pass you on the track, mein liebe.” Your eye roll doesn’t go unnoticed, the man relaxing due to how calm you are around him. No biting his head off, no anger, just chill. You stand and give a playful shove to his shoulder, smiling at the Sokovian. “In your dreams, Sokovian. Now, get the fuck out of my car bay.” He smiled to himself as he walked away, mind now clouded by the smile that lingered on your lips. He liked when you smiled, and he had to make sure this plan worked.

The race was gearing up to start, the same process as before coming into play. Car, balaclava, wheel. You take your moment to breathe, today your speed has placed you in second, just as the plan entailed. Zemo took the first position. He glanced your way, sending a nod in your direction, only to smirk beneath the balaclava when you flip him off like usual. The rivalry was still on, no matter what he would still have that after dealing with Walker. Still have you in one sense or another. Your glance focused in on the man across the way in the pole position opposite of you, his eyes locked on the two of you before meeting your gaze. There he stares you down, even as his helmet slipped on. The visor was flipped down at the one minute warning, eliminating the final clarifying view of his gaze. It was clear he was cautious of you, maybe even lingering with hate.

“Fahrer! Starten...sie ihre....Motoren!

That familiar purr settles into your chest, spreading through your body like a dam breaking and flooding the valley below. It stirs up the motivation to win once more, removing any doubt from your mind as you rev your engine. Zemo was right, Walker had to be stopped. With this attitude about racing, playing his little mind games and wrecking racers, he’d get someone killed just for first place. You couldn’t allow that...but you also couldn’t allow the rivalry you have established with Zemo to be broken because of someone else. There was too much there to be lost. Your fingers tighten around the wheel, licking your lips beneath the helmet as you prepare yourself for takeoff. The lights start counting down the race. Five seconds away, one green and two red lights. You watch them count down until the bottom lines of red are fully lit, then they flash off. You’re off, following Zemo right on the tail of his car as you start into the track. This track was a beast, your mind racing as it remembers every nook and cranny of it. Seventy three corners, eleven danger points, hair pin turns, all on a 12.8 mile long course that was deadly in the onset of any weather and people who get careless with their moves. Lucky enough, the sky was only overcast. No rain, little wind to interfere with the aerodynamics and mobility of the chassis, just the perfect chill in the air to remind you where you were in this moment. You take your turns with ease, avoiding the group of cars that began to follow suit on the track behind your own. Your eyes remained locked in on every shift to your side, Walker keeping close by within each turn and danger point you went through.

As you drive, Walker gets up past you within one of the speed trap areas, the stretch of road allowing him to be up beside Zemo and leave you on the back of their tires. Zemo had a plan, you believed in this plan… but had he just been toying with you to get closer to Walker? Doubt clouded your mind, even as you sped up in an attempt to join the boys directly in the front. Perhaps you shouldn’t have followed this plan, even as you get through the first twenty five laps, then the next twenty five. Each turn brought your tyres closer to Walkers who eyed you cautiously from time to time, as if silently daring you to pull a move like he did. Maybe you’d be caught and black flagged. Hell, that would make his fucking day if that happened. As he watched you, he had failed to notice on the wider strip of the track how Zemo began to drift further and further ahead. Then he was side tracked, Zemo slowing abruptly and stealing the attention of the young American driver. “What the Hell!?” He yelled over the roar of multiple motors, watching your car join Zemo’s side and the original speed be resumed. Now you sat beside Zemo on the track, pedal to the floorboard as you two kept your lead and basically walled Walker in. Each time he tried to drift around, one of you would shift your car just enough to keep him locked in. A grin met your lips as you drove, the energy of the race taking a whole new shift as you got closer and closer to the last lap with your rival right at your side. Tips of the chassis lined up perfectly, rear aerodynamic fins aligned like a well oiled machine. You two were in perfect sync as you put Zemo’s plan into action. Create a wall of impenetrable magnitude. If Walker tried anything, all three of you would go down. If he tried to get around, he would be blocked. There was no getting out from behind you two.

The checkered flag waved in the quickly approaching distance, your gaze for a moment looking at your rival. The blur of purple was steady, lined with yours like that of an air jet's flight coordination. Perfectly straight, and running at full throttle like you are. As your cars pass the finish line, debate begins to rise. It was too close in the end to call, at least not right away. You slow, allowing the purple beast to pass by and enter the pit before you, a silent gesture of courtesy to the man you worked with. He sent a small nod your way when he watched you get out of your car, helmet removed along with his balaclava and revealing the joyful grin resting on his lips. Anyone else would mistaken it for cockiness, but the look in his eyes said it all. You two did it, you beat Walker in the race! He must be furious! A breath is held on your end, helmet and the fabric covering your face discarded as you turn your gaze away from the arriving racers and the man you drove along with. You were locked in on that score board, curiosity eating at you for who may have won the race. You were neck in neck with the man, the smallest push forward could earn either of you the points for the day. No names shown yet, and you anxiously leaned on the hot surface of the carbon fiber vehicle as you waited. Each noise around you from the slow dwindle of engines to low, fading purrs to the pit crews of your respective teams surrounding you, your rival, and the newcomer were drowned out by the pounding of your heart as it flooded your ear drums. It felt like hours passed as you kept your gaze locked on, ignoring the happy clamour of your crew, the clasp of hands on your shoulder and pats on your back, even down to the ruffling of your hair in glee. Then it flashed up.

1st: (First initial). (Last name)

1st: H. Zemo

2nd: J. Walker

The press goes crazy over the news, each respective country reporting their amazement over the finishing results.

“Ein fehlerfreier, aber überraschender Sieg für Baron Helmut Zemo, der mit (First name) (Last name) gleichauf den ersten Platz belegt!”

“Victoire pour la championne de France (First name) (Last name) alors qu'elle rejoint le Baron Helmut Zemo dans une rare égalité!”

“In a remarkable and truly unprecedented event in The Nürburgring F1 race! Baron Helmet Zemo and (First name) (Last name) tied in a photo finish for first place, a rare occurrence that has set back American racer John Walker from the potential for first place!”

Your breath comes out shaky, slowly slipping out as reality hits you like a wrecking ball to a brick wall. The air leaves your lungs as a happy noise rings out from your lips, joining your crew in the celebration as they hug and surround you. You placed first. Zemo placed first. Curiosity met you, your gaze looking to the man who celebrated with his own crew before allowing himself a chance to settle his gaze on you in turn. There he sent a wink, a silent congratulations that made you shake your head at his antics before refocusing on the celebration. You would be standing with the man in first place on that podium, both sharing the victory wreath and spraying champagne all over the crowd of fans and your respective pit crews who were basking in the glory just as much as you two were. You couldn’t help the glee bubbling up in your form, even as you make your way not too far from your rival. For a second, just a split second, you let the rivalry go and let your smile be seen in accompaniment with his gleeful grin, shoulders bumping when you’re positioned at the podium by the F1 management crew. Press swarm to the area like flies to a summer barbecue, wanting to catch a glimpse of the rivals standing together, being on the podium and sharing first place. “Not so bad working with my, as you put it earlier, old extrémité arrière, hm?” He questioned as you two stood together, the closeness you two were forced into for the photographers far more comfortable than it would have been under any other circumstances. He blamed the feelings he had at this moment on the victory over Walker, over the rest of the racers, not even thinking that perhaps this was beyond the fact that he won but that you, his favorite rival, won alongside him. “Non, not the worst.” You joked lightly, forcing a serious face for the cameras when they began to picture you two side by side on the first place stand. He accepted the bottle of champagne before you could, holding it out. “You may have the honor, (First name).” Your fingers brush his own as you grasp the bottle with him, popping the cork and sending the bubbly to decorate the crowd. Flash after flash met you as you stood alongside Zemo and basked in the glory of the win. “How about drinks to celebrate? Even as rivals, I believe a drink wouldn’t hurt.” He whispered the question, causing your gaze to lock on his own in brief surprise. Was he serious!? “I um..Oui, sure. Meet you in town?” He nods, gaze seeming to glimmer ever so brighter as he takes his leave. Even when you separate to get cleaned of the alcohol and switch to “civilian clothing”, your smile doesn’t falter. Maybe it would be good for you to drink the night away with company that didn’t seem as bad as you once had thought before.

As you begin to peel away the racing suit, the flame resistant material bunching at your waist and revealing the open expanses of your back, the simplistic bra strap over the back the only material seen, you fail to hear the seething man enter your car bay. “Do you know what you just did, Ms. (Last name)? Who you fucked with?” Walker puts his hands on your shoulders, spinning you around to face him, his face inches away from yours. “You went and fucked with the wrong man. You could have just accepted your loss, licked your wounds, and we would have been just fine. But oh no, you had to go and fuck with my winning streak with that Sokovian piece of shit.” He huffed when you shove him back, gaze narrowed and arms crossing over your bra covered chest out of annoyance. You could care less what he saw. “I don’t see why you’re so mad, Mr. Walker. You got a taste of your own medicine after that stunt you pulled back in France. You and I both know that was no accident.”

“You know what? Yeah, I did that. But I see you are working with Zemo now, which is also a big no-no in Formula 1. Seems we’re both sinners of the race. The greed of it.” His tone was a hushed, harsh whisper. There was no need to alert anyone that he was in your private quarters harassing you. “I’m nothing like you.” Your tone came out in a hiss, his downturned lips curving up into a grin at your response. “Oh sweetheart, I beg to differ.” He chuckled at the narrowed gaze he was met with. “You and your Sokovian boy toy need to back off. Let this happen like it should or you’ll not like what happens next.”

“And just what do you think you’ll do, John? Because all I’m hearing right now is a lot of talking with no proof of any big execution.” Your lazy grin and scoff of annoyance at his presence left him to raise his hands in mock defeat, hands coming to rest on your shoulders once more with a harsh grip that made your body tense and hold you there. He leaned in, even as you tried to lean away, his lips moving in close near your ear. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Frenchie. I will do anything to win. You best remember that.” His tone alone makes your body betray you, the calm, cool, and collected front slipping as a shiver ran up your spine at his warning. And with that, he leaves you to get dressed for the night.

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Zemo texts you an address for a bar off the beaten path in Cologne, Germany, further than you had anticipated in going from the track but a welcomed change of scenery. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Frenchie. I will do anything to win. You best remember that.” The words stick with you, even as you drive the main road into the big city, looking for the bar Zemo had invited you to. It was connected to a hotel, a fancy hotel at that, with old architecture and lavish exterior. You could only imagine the interior! A nervous breath is taken as you get out of the car, gaze meeting the man you had just won with. He smiled at you, clothing casual and the air around him feeling far more comforting now than ever. The incident with Walker had left you rattled, sending your nerve endings to buzz and let your body know that you aren’t okay. Even though you felt off, you force a smile to the man who wrapped a friendly arm around your shoulders and led you in to sit at the quiet bar. “So, did I not tell you the plan would work?”

“I just thought it was your cockiness talking, but I will admit, though it physically pains me to do so…” You pause, biting your lip. “Well?” You sigh. “You were right.” The words come out struggled and forced, the man's grin growing at such. “Ah~, I don’t believe I caught that.” “Oh va te faire foutre!” He chuckled at your words, hand raised towards the bartender to get you drinks. “What are you ordering?”

“Shots. We deserve something to toast our victory to, and I don’t believe champagne is your drink of choice.” He offered you one of the smaller glasses, his own raised before him as he locks those bright brown eyes with your own. “Ein Prost! To us, and our victory over John Walker. May that American schwein taste defeat again.” You raise your glass, hoping to drink away any thoughts about Walker's warning and leave it for the next day. Throwing caution to the wind, you decided right then and there that you would finally have fun and disregard the night that you sat across from your rival. Tonight you just wanted to drink. “À la vôtre!” The drink is bitter as it hits your throat and travels down your body, causing a warmth to spread soon after. Kuemmerling, a bitter concoction of herbaceous and bittersweet flavors. A drink of choice for Zemo it seemed because soon after the shots were downed, he ordered another round.

Shot after shot after shot is taken down until your body is leaning against his own and a joke that is shaky at best from his part sends you into a roar of laughter. He holds you close, laughing right along with you. “So... It’s Barenjar?” He snorts at your piss poor pronunciation of the new liquor joining the mix, shaking his head at you as he looks on with drunken vision. “Nien, nien, Bärenjäger. Say it with me. Bä-”

“Bä-”

“Ren-”

“Jäger!”

“Mick Jagger?”

He laughs in defeat, shaking his head as he watched you. So relaxed, so calm. He hasn’t seen you like this before in his life. He’s startled by your sudden movements after downing your last shot for the night, catching you as you try to stand and stumble as your feet betray you. Your body landing against his, his arms slotting themselves around your waist as your drunken gaze catches his own. Those brown eyes of his are hypnotizing, keeping your gaze locked on his own. “I have something to confess, (First name).” He paused to wet his lips, trying to piece the words together in his hazy mind. “I have liked you since the day I met you.” He finally blurts out, fingers moving up to brush away a stray strand of hair that had fallen into your eyes. “You’re infuriating, yet calming. Stubborn and determined. Your smile is lovely and those eyes…” He trails off, leaving your hazy mind questioning what was going to come after, but you hardly have time to think about it as he pressed in closer, face inches from your own. The smell of Bärenjäger and Kuemmerling lingered on his breath as it fanned over your face, those brown eyes searching for something in your own. “Can you feel it, the connection we have? Can you see that we are not just rivals now?” His tone was just barely above a whisper, questioning you with a hint of desperation to his tone.

“Oui.”

That was the only answer he needed. His lips are on yours with fever and desperation, hands clinging to your form for dear life after hearing the words that sent him to fully fall into the feeling of you. You were his comfort, the one constant thing in his life. His rival...but right now you were the woman he sloppily kissed at the hotel bar as the bartender tried to catch his attention to tell you that you both were cut off for the night. His hands moved to grip at your thigh and tangle in your hair, abandoning the idea of holding anything back, the liquor giving him courage to make a move on you. He has wanted to do this for years, touch you, feel you, have you there with him in any way he could. He separated only when the threat of security was offered by the bartender, lips kiss swollen and a faint pant falling from them. “Come.” His hand takes hold of yours, leading you along to the lift and up to his room for the night. This hotel that he called home for the time being would serve well for what he had in mind to do to you. He led you inside, not even waiting for the door to close as he captured your lips once more, hands taking your rear in his grasp and hoisting you up so your legs wrapped around him, back pressed up against the closest wall he could find. He held you there, lips separating to begin trailing hungry kisses down the column of your throat and allow his hands to trace along your sides. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your shirt to feel the bare skin there, wanting what he has longed for since the day he met you. A noise fell from your lips as he lazily suckled a mark over your pulse point, your fingers tangling into his dark hair and tugging the locks when his hips grounded against your own. He couldn’t help the fire blooming in his body, needy for the creature that has teased him for all these years, The one he thought he would never have a chance with because of their hate for each other on the track. He needed you, and in your current state, you were willing to accept any touch he offered. He was just Helmut Zemo tonight. Not your rival, not the Baron, just Helmut. And you were his (First name).

A groan left his lips when you pulled him by his hair away from your neck, hands working to take your shirt up and over your head. Throwing it aside, he looked at you with a gaze of admiration. It was similar to the gaze he gave when looking at the new modifications to his car, taking pride in the beauty of things that drove him to win. He dampens his lips, fingers lazily dragging up the expanses of your back from bottom to top, resting on the clasp of the garment covering your breast. “Darf ich?” Your nod was all he needed, the clasp undone with skilled fingers that knew precision, holding still on your back when your arms rose to take the garment and throw it in an unknown direction to be forgotten about for the time being. He wasted no time with taking one of your breasts in hand, fingers running over the sensitive bud of one while he took the other in his mouth, suckling and lavishing with his tongue. He took his time, drunken yet slowly sobering mind savoring each and every noise that fell from your lips as he toyed with your body. You’re barely into foreplay and he already has your panties soaked, the Baron being a creature that knows exactly what buttons to push to get you going without even knowing your body. He was skilled, that much was for sure in your mind as he switched to the other breast, paying equal attention to each. Those brown eyes of his don’t leave your face for a second, watching every reaction and trying to commit them to memory. If he could only have you tonight, he wanted to remember everything he possibly could. Every detail of your body, everything that drew a hitched breath or a low moan from your lips. Every shaky breath and the way your body would press closer to his greedy mouth and hand. He stored it all away. Maybe he’d wake up the next day and fancy this a pleasant dream...It wouldn’t be the first time he’s gotten worked up by thinking about you.

His hand traveled downward, cupping your sex through your pants as his own grinds up against your thigh, straining through the fabric of his pants. He ached for you, for your heated skin to be pressed against his own in a delicious rut of bodies. He traced along the seam, hearing the low whine that fell from your lips as he teased you through the material. “Helmut, stop for a moment.” The man paused all actions, his gaze shifted to a worried state as he met your eyes and spoke with concern. “Are you alright, mein liebling?”

“Oui.” Your fingers trace his jaw, the man's face briefly pressing in against your palm before delivering a soft kiss to the area. A tender gesture that sent butterflies to flutter in your stomach and heart to speed further than the foreplay had already caused. “I just...Take me to the bedroom. Please?” You preferred not being right beside the door where anyone could listen in, where anyone could hold a camera up to the peephole and record the sexual pleasures of the infamous Wildcard and Baron. That would make a top headline, wouldn’t it? He gave a chuckle at your demand, nodding as he kept his grip on you, your legs wrapping just a hint tighter around him as he moved you both to the bedroom. He’s gentle with setting you down, looking down at you when you unwrap your arms and legs from his form. “Scheiße, du bist perfekt.” He slowly worked on the buttons of his shirt, working each plastic piece through the loop with fingers that were known for precision on the course. A shift in his steering, taking hold of the semi-automatic paddle-shifters as he drove, it was all well calculated and that applied on and off the track. His shirt is shrugged off his shoulders, thrown aside before focusing on the belt on his pants. He gets it off with what can only be deemed a darkening gaze, knowing he’s getting closer and closer to having you. You rose to let your hands trail his chest, roaming over the lean muscle that rested there as feather light kisses met his collarbone. A shiver met his spine, shooting up in bliss as he allowed a moment to savor the feeling of you touching his skin. Your skin was so warm, so inviting. He was getting lost in everything.

Your fingers shift down his torso, trailing his abdomen before looping in the belt loops of his pants to pull him forward, a low growl falling from his lips when you place a kiss above the waistline of his pants. Your movements were confident, unzipping his trousers and tugging them down to reveal the tent hidden behind his underwear. He swallowed thickly as he kicked his pants off, watching your every move as you cup him through the thin fabric, thumb moving to brush over the leaking tip and cause a shaky breath to leave him. “Maus-” A groan leaves his lips when a jerk through the fabric is given, his head falling back briefly. He huffed when you repeated the motion, fingers anxious to wrap around his bare flesh and feel that hot skin in the palm of your hand. But he stops you, hand wrapping around your own and bringing it to his lips once more. “Tonight is not about me, maus.” You’re surprised when the man placed his hand on your chest, lightly pushing you back to lay on the bed as he slowly sank down onto his knees, ”Es geht nur um dich.’ His lips drag slowly across your skin, trailing light kisses and nips along your abdomen and resting at the waist of your pants. He glanced up, a silent question of courtesy offered your way as his fingers loop in the band, asking permission like a proper gentleman. “Go ahead.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, his presence making you feel like you’re floating higher and higher on this ride with him. He gave a tug, your rear lifting and back arching to aid the man as he pulled your pants down and let them fall to join the scattered articles around the room. You’d have to go on a damn scavenger hunt just to find your clothes! But none of that mattered now, not when his hot breath is fanning over your needy core and face nuzzling at your thighs. He placed a kiss to your inner thigh before another followed, then another as he began to trail inward towards your covered core. “Aufgeregt?” He purred in questioning, a low rumble of a chuckle coming from deep within his chest spilling out at the small nod he is met with, loving how he has left you damn near speechless just by being so close. Your hips jump back before he gets a grip on them, his tongue moving over the wet fabric and causing a light whine to spill from your lips. “Helmut, please.” Oh, hearing you speak his name only egged him on further, needing you. He needed to taste you, to feel you. He needed you in every way, and his drunken mind only pushed him on to pull the fabric away from your legs and stare at the glory that is you. So wet, so beautiful. He wasted no more time, bringing your legs to hook over his shoulders and delved into the intoxicating honey pot he had been offered. He started off slowly, a long lap from entrance to clit given before the motion was repeated just to hear the noise that left your lips with each swipe. Zemo was mapping you out, taking note of what areas made your thighs twitch and tense, what areas made your hips jump back at the sensitivity of his touch, and what made those oh so delicious noises spill from your mouth.

He allows his tongue to focus in on your clit, flicking the bundle of nerves in a rhythm that sends your head to spin and moan after moan to spill from your lips. “Merde!” He smirked against your core when your hand shot down to tangle in his locks, needing stability after he took your clit between his lips and suckled. He repeats the motion, gaze locked on your own and watching the sudden shock of the feeling run through your body. You were so reactive, and just for him. A lazy lick is given to the sensitive bundle of nerves, watching your hips jerk lightly and seeing the tremble that began to settle into your thighs. “Close?” He questioned as if he was questioning about an everyday thing, totally not giving the impression he was getting you close to orgasm just with that sinful tongue and lips of his. O-Oui.” Your tone was shaky, breathy, eyes half lidded and watching his every move on you. “Gut.” A gasp fell from your lips when he sank a digit into your hot, needy core, arching along the way and searching for the sweet spot deep within. He wasn’t like the inexperienced boys who would just jab their fingers into their partner and hope it hits something. No, his fingers curled, probed, dragged and felt for that spot in a way that showed his experience. A second digit is added not too long after the first, probing the flesh within until he hears your moan and finds that spot that drives you to clamp your thighs around his head. A groan left his lips at the rush of slick is met with each probe, massaging that spot within you and only adding to the tension building in your core. Each throb he was met with only spurred him on. He was on a mission to bring you over the edge, and he would do anything to get you off. When his mouth returned to your still sensitive clit, tongue flicking of the bundle and including the occasional suckle while his fingers moved deep within, you were done for. A rough tug is given to his hair as your body convulses, thighs clamping around him and grinding your hips down against his eager tongue. He helps you ride out your orgasm, lapping at your clit until you give a light shove to his head to make him stop. A wicked smile crosses his features as he gives one final suckle, a squeak leaving your lips at the motion and shoving him back as much as your trembling body allows. He can only chuckle at the attempt, fingers removing from your throbbing core. He watched your gaze land on him when you caught sight of the digits, watching the man move his glance to them as if he was inspecting them before a quiet whimper left your lips when they were taken one by one into his mouth. He made it a show, teasing you as he cleaned each digit of your juices in a slow motion. Sinking down to the knuckle before returning and licking at whatever was left. “Tease.” You huffed, chest rising and falling steadily with your hammering heart. “Oh you know you like it.” He retorted, lazily letting his body climb up and over yours on the plush mattress.

He pushed the final material separating you from him away, throwing the underwear away before letting himself settle in against your body. Zemo wasted no time in wrapping your legs around his waist, lips joining yours as he lined up with you, one hand taking hold of your hip while the other took hold of your hair, tugging it back enough to have access to your neck. As he begins to ease himself within you, his lips attach at a section of your neck, a harsh mark left in his wake as he sinks inch by inch within the lightly pulsing core that he toyed with before. A groan was left against your skin when he was fully settled, grip rough on your hip but movements gentle as he waited for you to adjust. He was no animal, not cruel! He knew that there was a possibility for pain if he moved too soon, and even in his drunken haze he recognized the look in your eyes, the slight twinge of pain from his size alone. The stretch wasn’t unpleasant, no, but it was an intrusion you weren’t quite used to when normally doing this. He lightly placed kisses to sooth you along the mark he left, trailing them up the underside of your chin, going along your jaw before soon connecting with your lips in a soft kiss. Something to distract you until you were ready for him to move. A shift of your hips was given when you tested the feeling of him in you, the moan that left your lips causing a low growl to fall from his own. He lifted his body to loom over yours, hand moving from your hair to cup a breast as he sets a slow, deep and even borderline sensual pace within your core. Slowly out until the tip stayed just barely in before plunging deeply into your warm, wet depths. He huffed with each push of his cock within your core, meeting your moans with a faint groan here or a soft growl there when your walls gripped him just right. He was losing composure with each faint twitch of your walls around him, pace beginning to pick up into a steady rhythm that developed the noise of slick skin hitting skin and the bed beneath to creak ever so slightly with each movement. “Verdammt!” He could tell how your walls began to tighten around him, how each noise leaving your lips grew louder and louder. His poor neighbors, hearing you both so vividly through the walls of the hotel. Yet he didn’t care who heard. As long as they knew that in this moment, you were his to take, that was all that mattered. Zemo moved his thumb to your clit, working the bundle along with the assault he laid on your sensitive spot deep within. Each clamp around him brought his own release to come closer and closer. “Cum for me, maus.” He demanded with a grunt, needing to feel you come undone to reach his own release. His words hit somewhere deep in you, the demand that was laced with a plea driving you to your second orgasm of the night. He groaned as he felt you clamp around him, the sensation alone causing him to remove himself from you and spill onto your stomach with a few quick pumps of his hand along his slick coated member. He pants, taking in the sight of you one final time for the time being. Messy, slickened by your own arousal and sweat. Your hair was messed up, your lips parted and panting. To add the cherry on top, you were coated in his release, a sight for sore eyes while you lay like this. He made you like this, and it swells his drunken ego.

Slowly he eased down to lay at your side, bringing you in against him with an almost delicate kiss delivered to your temple. Your breathing slowly evened out, head resting against his chest as his fingers trail along your back, drawing imaginary patterns as his mind begins to blank. The alcohol was taking effect, causing him to enter a lull and for his eyes to flutter shut. As you lay there, catching your breath, you watch as he drifts away, a single question beginning to enter your sobering mind.

“What have I done?”

Tag List: @darksxder | @mymagicsuitcase | @mischief-siriusly-managed | @alindeluce

#Baron zemo #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo #racing au #daniel brühl #zemo x reader #zemo x y/n #zemo x you #baron zemo x reader #john walker #john walker is STILL an asshole #multichapter story #chapter 2 #“It Takes Two to Win a Race.” Chapter II

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yesttoheaven · 4 years

Text

GOOD GIRLS GO TO HELL

CHAPTER 1

pairing: arvin russell x female!reader

summary: In the eyes of extremely strict parents, 'good' girls go to hell, but they don't know that they are handing over their own daughter to the devil – known to all as Rev. Teagardin.

wc: 3.8k

warnings: language, mentions (not depictions) of abuse, manipulation, religious fanaticism, angst

a/n: This idea has been on my mind since the day I watched the movie, so... here we go!

English is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors.

Y/N – your name

"I don't usually interfere that way. It would be best if she came here willingly. She needs to be open to accept all the blessings that God will bring to her life." Rev. Teagardin took a step forward, considering the request of a mother and father completely desperate for the salvation of their only daughter.

"We tried everything. We found great references about a boarding school called 'Good Pastor', but a week later they called to report that she had run away! Our daughter appeared a few days later in the company of three strange girls. One of them is a single mother, our Y/N shouldn't hang out with those kind of people." The woman's words contained disgust. She was tired of watching her daughter ruin her own life. The girl had become a topic of conversation in the town and a shame for the whole family.

"The truth is, we don't know what to do with Y/N. Day after day she becomes more rebellious. She doesn't respect us." Mr. Henson shared the same agony as his wife, but both see Preston as the solution to this problem.

"We don't want our only daughter to go to hell! You need to help us, Reverend. We believe that you are the only one capable of driving the devil out of her. In the name of God, save our little Y/N!"

In absolute silence, the preacher walked near the window, watching Y/N. She was sitting on the hood of Mr. Henson's car and her body was lulled by the gentle breeze that touched the skirt of the dress she wore, revealing her legs that should have been silky smooth. Smiling, the man looked at the girl's parents, knowing exactly what to do to save Y/N's soul.

"I'm glad you came to me. God will be my guide to help your daughter. Now, I would like to talk to her for a while."

Extremely grateful, Y/N's parents agreed and left the church for a few seconds. When they returned, Y/N was with them. The girl's curious eyes moved from side to side, until they found Preston Teagardin with his hands on his hips. He was at the altar, the cross appearing behind his head left him with a divine aura, but the girl remembers the day she saw the preacher humiliate – indirectly – the chicken liver dish that Emma Russell prepared with such affection. If he said those horrible things to a religious woman like Emma, Y/N didn't want to imagine what he might be thinking about her at the moment. Maybe he was wondering why she hasn't started to burn while walking on sacred ground, but it was him who was burning. Burning with desire. A sin that he identifies in others, but never in himself.

"Hello, you must be Y/N." The man approached, his eyes shining like a hungry predator who had just found the perfect prey. "You don't usually visit the house of God."

"But I'm sure that is about to change." Y/N's mother replied, looking at her daughter hopefully.

Y/N may not be an especially easy girl to handle, but she never understood why her parents didn't respect her space. She never visited the church often and that number dropped to zero when they started to force her to go with them. Over the years, Knockemstiff residents have turned religion into a disease. It's close to insanity and Y/N Henson doesn't want that for her life. Despite being seen as a sinner, she still prays every night. She gets down on her knees and talks to God.

"Dear, your dad and I brought you here to talk to Reverend Teagardin..."

"What? You said you would come here to confess and then we would go home!" Y/N protested angrily. She was ready to retrace her steps to the exit when her father took her arm.

"Y/N, we just want the best for you. Talking to the reverend can be a good start."

"And we are not giving you another option." Mrs. Henson completed, remaining firm in her decision. "Your father and I agreed not to participate in this conversation. We will walk around the town and then we come back here to get you."

"I can take her home... If you agree." Teagardin said, hiding his real intentions and touching the girl's shoulder. She was so small around him and looked so vulnerable. He smiled when he realized that.

"Oh, that's very kind, Reverend. Thanks." Y/N's mother replied, feeling enchanted by the man's benevolence. "Be a good girl." She said, kissing her daughter's forehead.

The preacher accompanied them to the door and having no other option Y/N walked through the church, staring at the cross nailed to the wall. She never felt that she was turning away from God, but looking back is exactly what she did.

"Now it's just me, you and Him." The reverend's words brought Y/N out of her own thoughts and she turned to him, crossing her arms in the process. This made her breasts more visible under the black dress she wore and Teagardin noticed.

"I can go and you tell my parents that you talked to me, but it didn't work because I'm a hopeless case. It's simple."

"I can't lie to your parents. I also don't think you're a hopeless case, Y/N." The man admitted, going to the first bench and sitting down. "We can talk?"

"Like... about my sins?"

"No. A normal conversation. Why don't you start by telling me about your life?" He patted the bench, silently inviting her to sit beside him.

Y/N didn't understand how a simple conversation could help, but she found the idea pleasant. Showing a shy smile, she approached Teagardin and sat down next to him, leaving a space between their bodies. Once again she looked at the cross, beginning to speak:

"I work for Ms. Fowler, she has a chicken coop and some pigs... I don't do much, but I like to help take care of animals and she says they like me too." At that moment Y/N looked at the preacher and imagined that she would find him with an expression of disinterest. The same expression of disinterest that her parents show when she tried to start a conversation or simply tell how her day was. They were always busy, but Teagardin was completely focused on everything she said and with a small smile on the corner of his lips.

"So, do you take care of the animals? I'm impressed, I don't know many girls who risk their lives by entering a pigsty."

"It's a dangerous place." She let slip a sweet laugh, feeling light, as she hadn't felt for a long time. "I understand them."

"I can see that you have a great relationship with animals, but what about your friends? Tell me a little about them." Those words were enough to destabilize Y/N. Any sign of happiness disappeared from her face and everything went gray, just like the view through the church windows. The rain was close and Y/N controlled herself not to start crying.

Like a sniffer dog, Preston felt this was a sensitive subject for the girl – maybe an open wound – and waited patiently until she decided to share it with him.

"I was never good at making friends, but I used to have a friend at school. Her name was Isabella. We were inseparable, but one day her father received a job offer in another city... Despite the distance, she called me every day in the late afternoon" The nostalgia was noticeable in her voice and the way her face softened with small memories. Isabella and Y/N were like sisters, but Mrs. Henson never approved of that friendship. "I am three years without news of my best friend. She never called or answered my letters and I don't know why, reverend."

"Have you never been to visit her?"

"My parents won't let me out of Knockemstiff."

"You don't have to go alone. They can go with you..."

"They don't care about me or what I want." Y/N said, shaking her shoulders as if this feeling was mutual, but deep down she knew it wasn't. "My mom said I have the power to turn people away and if Isabella walked away from me, it is certainly my fault."

"Your mother shouldn't say that." Teagardin looked deeply hurt. The situation was worse than he imagined, this family needs his help.

Y/N needs his help.

"Well, I lost Isabella's friendship, but I got three new friends!" The girl informed, as if she had finally found her place. "Two of them I met at the boarding school. The third helped us to escape and she has a beautiful baby. They work together in a bar away from the city..."

"What do they do in this bar?" The reverend had some suspicions, but he wanted to hear her confess.

"They... dance." Y/N said slowly. "I know it can look wrong, but they are good people and I don't understand why everyone looks at these girls with..."

"Have you ever been there?" Preston needed to know, but the girl just bowed her head. Sighing deeply, he stretched his arm over her shoulders, ending the distance between their bodies. "It's all right... God is merciful and benevolent. He forgives all of our sins, but He does not forgive lies."

"It was only once. I swear!" In the same instant that the words left her lips, she hid her face in Teagardin's chest and he took the opportunity to hug her, and feel the sweet perfume of her hair. It smelled like innocence.

"You made a mistake by going there. That place is not for family girls."

"I was just tired of everything... So, I thought about going there to have a drink and forget about the problems."

"Learn one thing..." The man said softly, running his fingers through her hair. "When problems arise and you feel alone, start praying. God is your best friend. And I am also here to help you."

"Thanks, reverend."

"Never go back to that place again. You shouldn't be drinking... and smoking."

"Wait..." The girl moved away from Teagardin, looking him straight in the eye. "Did my parents say that?"

"I was in town when I saw you smoking with a boy. He approached you and passed the smoke to your mouth... And then he kissed you. Is he your boyfriend?"

"Oh, you saw me with Arvin..." Shame consumed Y/N, turning her cheeks into two tomatoes. "But we are not together. It was our first kiss... My first kiss."

The moment they shared in the car had been magical. Arvin was always different from the Knockemstiff boys. He never judged Y/N for her actions. He understood her, but sometimes some problems were so big that they made the girl run away from him. All Arvin wanted was to hold her in his arms and protect from all the evil in the world.

"You need to stay away from these people. Starting with this young guy." The preacher's words captured Y/N's attention, confusing her. "You can't see it now, but those friendships are not good for you. They are driving you away from your true purpose. And Arvin Russell is taking advantage of your innocence to..."

"Arvin would never do that." She stated in all letters, not letting him finish the assumption. "I think... I think he likes me."

"There is a big difference between love and carnal attraction, and boys his age think of only one thing." Teagardin insisted, using a peaceful tone of voice. He was so convincing, that despite knowing Arvin for a long time, Y/N wondered about the boy's real intentions. He was always kind and respectful, or maybe that's what she thought, but with the help of the reverend she was beginning to understand, and the feeling of being used was difficult to digest. "I saw the way he looked at you... I saw the sin in his eyes."

"This cannot be true... W-We are not talking about the same person! He's d-different!"

"It doesn't matter who you believed in all this time or what you accepted to... to be like them. In the end, you are alone. You know it." When Preston finished, she was completely broken. It was cruel, but someone needed to open her eyes. Y/N deserved the truth. "I know it is difficult, but I am here for you." He buried her against his chest in a bear hug, wishing feel her soft, warm body in his arms again. Y/N returned the hug — and then started to cry.

Her friends were not her friends.

Her parents were right.

She felt confused. Lost. But the reverend was beside her to show a new path free from sin and delusions.

"Do you know Proverbs 28:13?" He asked, holding her face in his hands. With his fingertips he wiped away a few tears and she smiled, shaking her head. "Whoever tries to hide his sins will not succeed, but the one who confesses his sins and leaves them behind will find mercy. Are you ready for this?"

"Yes, reverend." That was the confirmation he needed.

Preston Teagardin always believed that he had a special connection with God. With the right words he had the power to reach the hearts of these girls and offer them redemption. In his dark mind, they were privileged to be touched by a holy man like him. He was doing them a favor. And now it's Y/N's turn.

"First, you need to be free from your sins." The man looked with adoration for the little fallen angel. Slowly, he touched her knees, feeling the smooth skin and after a sigh, the girl was in his hands.

"Reverend..."

"Shhh. Just trust me." He said when his hands disappeared under her dress. His touch was sacred, something she had never experienced, but Y/N's conscience screamed that this was wrong. "Stand up so I can take your panties off. I need to feel you..." She got up, but ran quickly away from him, escaping his dirty hands.

Disappointment appeared in her eyes in the form of tears. It was impossible not to feel used. Again. Influenced by him, Y/N believed that her friends were a problem in her life and that they were moving her away from God's plans, but the real sinner is inside the church. His understanding, concern and kindness never existed. It was all part of the game. He needed to earn her trust before he could attack.

"You... You are a wolf in sheep's clothing! A liar! I thought for the first time someone was understanding my side, but you just want to fuck with me!"

"You got it wrong..."

"S-Stay away from me!" Y/N warned when Teagardin tried to approach. Fear coursed through her veins, spreading through her body like a drug. She didn't know what to do, but she knew she didn't want to be touched by him that way. "If you approach me, I swear I make a scandal! The whole city will know who you really are!"

"No one will believe you." He took a step forward. "You need help. I'm the only one who can..."

"Stop that shit! Do not say that the devil is in me, when you are trying to abuse a girl who is old enough to be your daughter! You are the devil, Teagardin!" For the first time she saw the anger in his eyes. Preston would never agree with that, but that is his true face. He is the devil in disguise and this was confirmed the instant he advanced on her.

Y/N ran to the exit, screaming desperately for help, even though she knew she was alone in this nightmare. With shaking hands, she tried to open the door, but the reverend took her in his arms. Compared to the girl’s small, slender body, he was stronger than she was, but Y/N resisted and hit her knee in the middle of his legs, reaching his weak point. The man let out a loud growl and walked away, seeking support on one of the wooden benches. Taking advantage of the distraction, Y/N opened the door and ran as fast as she could. Teagardin thought of running after her to finish what he started, but he gave up as soon as he saw her cross the threshold of the church, running in the rain as if her life depended on it. She didn't look back, just kept running until she disappeared into the trees.

...

The day turned into night, covering everything with its dark cloak, while rain fell mercilessly on Knockemstiff. Y/N stumbled along the road, hugging her own body in an unsuccessful attempt to warm up. Tears were still streaming down her cheeks, mixing with the raindrops, but the girl's mind was elsewhere.

After what happened at the church, her faith was in pieces. She always knew that bad men walked on Earth, but she never imagined that the preacher was one of them. The way he touched her was disgusting. She wanted to scream, take the pain out of her chest and run back home to tell her parents what happened, but Teagardin's words were stuck in her head, hurting her:

"In the end, you are alone. You know it."

"No one will believe you."

Unexpectedly – or maybe that was a divine sign – a car approached the road Y/N was on. She was surprised to hear the noise of the engine and looked back. Despite the rain and the headlight blinding her for a few moments, Y/N recognized the old car and the boy on the other side certainly recognized her too. Arvin left his truck without a second thought, not caring about the pouring rain wetting his clothes in a matter of seconds.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, needing to raise his voice so she could hear. The girl opened her mouth to reply, but gave up, looking away.

Arvin realized that something was wrong. It was common to see Y/N walking around the city, but not in these circumstances. Before she looked away, he noticed the pain in her eyes. It was no secret to him that she had a difficult relationship with her parents, but this time it was different.

For a moment the worry made him forget that they were both still in the rain and when he realized this, the boy immediately guided her to the car. When she was safely in the passenger seat, he bypassed the vehicle and took the driver's seat. Rain was no longer a problem, but the cold persisted and Arvin grabbed his jeans jacket from the back seat.

"Here." He handed it to her and Y/N mumbled a small 'thanks', wearing the jacket. "So... what happened? You are far from home. It is dangerous to go out in the middle of a storm like this..."

"My intention is to stay away from home. The storm is an extra." The girl tried to relax, hiding her real emotions but it was obvious that she was not well.

"Did you argue with your parents again?"

"I would prefer that." She replied, forcing a laugh. Getting into an argument with her parents was common for her and seemed small compared to what actually happened. But what really happened was suffocating her. "I can tell you everything, r-right?"

"You know you can." Arvin said, holding her hand. The simple contact made their hearts accelerate and Y/N was grateful to have him by her side.

Feeling encouraged, she began to tell what happened at the church. The fact that her parents insisted that the devil was inside her, made Arvin angry. He never understood what the problem was with Mr. and Mrs. Henson about this. Y/N was not sick. All she needed was love and they never gave it to her.

Y/N didn't want to delve into the details of her conversation with the new preacher, but Arvin heard the fear in her voice when she mentioned his name. She said he was good with words, and very persuasive. He easily won her trust and that was her worst mistake. Arvin stopped listening when she said that the man's hands disappeared under the dress she was wearing. Anger consumed him quickly, making his blood boil and he clapped his hands on the steering wheel. With a vision blurred by tears, Y/N looked at him with concern. The tension was clear throughout his body; his jaw was tightly clenched and his hands were shaking as his fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Arvin always had an explosive temper – paternal inheritance –, especially when the people he cared about were hurt.

"The preacher will never touch you again. I promise." He stated with conviction, bringing his attention back to Y/N. She looked tired, crying silently and the boy opened his arms for her to snuggle against his chest. Playing with a lock of her hair, he said: "I always knew there was something wrong with him. I should be there for you..."

"It's okay, Arvin. I'll be fine and I'll forget what happened... I just need to stay away from the church. This is easy for me." Y/N knew it wouldn't be so easy, but to calm him down, everything was welcome.

"You cannot protect him."

"I am not protecting him, but I know you..." She murmured softly, running a hand over his chest. "My life is a mess, you are the only one who believes in me. So, I'm just asking you not to do anything stupid... Because... Because I need you here." Arvin relaxed at her words. It was nice to know that she wanted him around in this difficult time. Y/N would have his support forever. And his love. For her sake, he decided to act with caution, but this does not mean that Teagardin will not suffer the consequences of his actions.

With undisclosed feelings, they remained embraced, just enjoying each other's company. It had been a long day. Arvin remembered the fallen tree in the middle of the road, forcing him to take the long way home, but that path brought him to Y/N. He was happy that it was he who found her in the middle of this storm.

"You need to rest. I will take you home." The boy broke the silence and Y/N moved away from him, shaking her head.

"No! I don't want to go home! My parents... they go..."

"I'll take you to my house." Arvin said, catching her cheek with his hand and watching the panic disappear from her eyes. With a smile, he added: "Grandma misses you."

• a/n: This is the first fic I publish here and I'm very nervous!! (Possibly I will do a second part of this) Btw, criticism is welcome!!

(CHAPTER TWO HERE)

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