#I neither know nor care enough to figure out which tags you like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

roseykat · 7 months

Text

KINKTOBER DAY 1

Title: Same coin, different faces

PAIRING: Bang Chan x Reader

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

SUMMARY: Despite not being together with Chan anymore, you somehow end up in the back of his car...fogging up the windows.

TAGS: pre-established breakup trope, swearing, a dash of angst but also a hint of resolve, mentions of alcohol (neither the reader nor Chan is drunk), a bit of manhandling by both parties, oral sex (reader receiving), car sex, unprotected, sort of hate/rough sex.

MASTERLIST - KINKTOBER LIST

(This is currently unedited but I will be proofing it later on)

It wasn’t as fun as you had hoped it to be, a party that is. Given it was the end of the semester, people usually prefer to go all out - which they did, but you weren’t feeling it. There were far too many people off of their faces, including your entire friend group that you showed up with.

Two of them were playing drinking games in the kitchen, one of them - Minho, who had completely disappeared for the past few hours, and another one who had found himself someone to hook up with.

In the end, you were on your own for the remainder of the party. After having found a way into the lounge through the masses of people attending and remained on the couch, watching those around you for a while, you decided to get back up and grab a drink. There wasn’t an entire selection to choose from; either warm beer or cheap wine, which you grab from the latter and pour some in a plastic cup to try and fit in with everyone else.

The briny taste of the wine was enough to make you think that maybe it was time to go home. It wasn’t fun, interesting, nor a good way to spend your time on a Friday night. Before being able to make the decision to leave, you find yourself planted on the ground when your eyes catch onto a familiar figure amongst the people.

Chan. Your ex-boyfriend - your ex-best friend at that too.

It was a surprise to see him given that he isn’t really a party goer, but also a surprise to see him in general after the pair of you went through such a tumultuous breakup a month ago. Things just didn’t work out the way they were supposed to which was unfortunate because Chan is one of a kind.

There isn’t anybody like him that exists in this world. He’s gentle, caring, and has a bottomless well of love to give. Now that you’re not together anymore, you know that whoever he ends up with in the future is well taken care of.

“Hi,” Chan says, walking up to you.

“Hey,” you respond back, unsure of how to actually talk to him now. “What are you doing here?”

Chan sighs, looking at the screen of his phone momentarily then turning his attention back to you, “trying to find Minho. I’m here to pick him up, but I can’t find him. Is he here?”

“I haven’t seen him for the past couple of hours,” you answer. “I highly doubt he’s actually here still.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes, “course he’s not.”

“He probably went to Jisung’s at some point,” you add.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” he replies before his eyes peer down at the plastic cup. “Drinking? That’s not like you.”

“It’s the end of the semester,” you say in your own defence. “I was trying to finish off strong.”

“Right. Have you got a ride home then?”

Your eyes dart beyond Chan to ‘your ride home’ who has probably now consumed half of his body weight in alcohol. Chan catches your gaze, turns around and sees Seungmin throwing back another shot with a couple of strangers, presumably his classmates.

Chan sighs once more and faces you again, “don’t tell me he was supposed to sober drive.”

“He won’t be now,” you respond.

“Okay well, I can drop you off. Minho’s not replying and he’s probably not here, plus I’m getting tired,” he offers.

You ponder for a moment. Since Chan had come up to you, you hadn’t felt that sting of pain that a breakup usually induces. Not since the day you both called it quits on the relationship. But that’s only because things were never awkward with him. It’s only until now that you realise how depleting life has been without him. It’s not colourful anymore.

It’s an issue because you don’t want to be reminded of what you don’t have anymore. Sometimes, the best things can be the worst for us.

“It’s okay, thank you though,” you decline respectfully. “I might tell the others to get ready to head off.”

“And who’s going to drive them? You?” He asks with a brow raised then shakes his head with disapproval. “You’ve been drinking.”

“Not that much,” you retort. “I’m not even tipsy, plus I don’t want to leave them behind.”

“Seems like they left you behind,” Chan points out a very good point which you find hard to not be in denial about.

He takes the plastic cup out of your hand and places it on the nearest surface cluttered with other discarded items. He then returns back to you to gently take hold of your wrist and leads you out of the lounge full of people.

“Wait-”

“I’m not letting you drive under the influence, end of story,” he decides.

With that matter in hand, you’re quickly reminded that Chan has always had a strong head on his shoulders and his morals are very clear cut. He held reasonably strong opinions on doing unnecessarily dangerous things, particularly when it comes to you. It happened to be one of the poisonous factors that pierced the final dagger into the relationship.

The cold air then hits you when you both make it out into the front yard.

“I can walk thank you,” you say to Chan who forgets that he’s still holding your wrist. He looks down at his hand and releases.

“Sorry,” he apologises. “Car’s this way.”

He leads you once more just across the street to the vehicle while you think about the fact that you never actually agreed you were going to accept his offer to take you home. In saying that, there was no other alternative other than walking which Chan wouldn’t have put up with anyway.

The pair of you hop in his car, finally able to catch a break from the blaring music that was blasting throughout the house. After both of your seatbelts are on, Chan starts the car and drives away down the street.

It’s not long until silence falls quickly. Things had never been this terribly awkward between you both, but there had been pockets of quietness which used to be comfortable to sit in. Now you can see that it’s not as nice.

“So what have you been up to these days?” Chan asks out of the blue, breaking that silence.

“Nothing interesting I guess,” you answer blandly. “Just studies and that’s it.”

He nods, “how’s that going so far?”

“Fine, I suppose.”

Chan lets out a small huff, “you know, it’s still okay for us to talk right? We don’t need to be so hostile.”

The glow of your phone from your lap catches your attention away from his comment. You blink down at the screen and read a text from Felix.

Lix: ‘Saw you leave with Chan. Please tell me you’re both back on.’

You roll your eyes. You love Felix, but sometimes he can be too optimistic. There wasn’t any way you and Chan were going to find your way back to each other. If anything, it wouldn’t be the same anymore.

“I wasn’t being hostile, plus there’s not much to my answer anyway unless you want me to lie?” You respond back.

“No, I don’t want you to lie,” Chan adjusts his tight grip on the steering wheel. “But you speaking just proves my point on why we shouldn’t act like that.”

You turn your head, shooting him a well-deserved glare. This isn’t usually how Chan acts. He never says backhanded things as such even though he can be relatively blunt. Whatever subtle malice was behind his words obviously came from the same place that helped the relationship tear apart.

“This is why we never worked out because you always had to have some degree of control,” you scoff, ignoring the fact that you’ve now doused the flicker of the argument with petrol.

“I was only doing what I though was safest for you,” Chan argues back strongly. “It was never about having any type of control, it was because you couldn’t see what the consequences were.”

“Then why couldn’t you have let me figure it out for myself? How else am I supposed to learn, when you’re not here anymore?”

“You, driving drunk isn’t something that you just learn not to do. You don’t do it, full stop. Anyone with common sense knows that,” Chan bites back.

“I’m not even talking about that! When have I ever driven drunk? Now you’re just fucking reaching for things! All I’m saying is that it didn’t matter how much time I spent with you, I never got to be my own person. It was like I was turning into another ‘you’.”

Chan shrugs, “in comparison to what you can be like sometimes, I honestly don’t think that’s so much of a bad thing.”

The last nerve inside you, had been struck.

“Stop the car, I’m getting out.”

“No, we’re nearly at your h-”

“I don’t care Chris, I seriously don’t want to be anywhere near you right now,” you cut him off sharply, not wanting to hear another word come out of his mouth.

Chan looks over at you, absorbing how painfully angry you look right now and the fact that your hand is on the door handle, ready to bolt as soon as he pulls over. It was fairly obvious because once he did, you were out of the vehicle before he could say anything more. But as fast as you are out the door, Chan is already on the other side to meet you.

“Don’t go home angry,” he says urgently.

You shoot him a dirty look, thinking who the hell is he to tell you what to do, “or what?”

“Well can we at least talk then?” He questions, trying to grasp onto some common ground here.

With as much force as you can muster, your arms come up to shove Chan by the chest, “fuck you.”

He stumbles back a few steps and is not as nearly as surprised as you are by your own behaviour. Never has anyone elicited as much of a reaction from you until now. The shock has you to the point where you can barely assemble an apology to Chan. Even so when he comes back forward, grabbing you by the sides of your arms, and shoving you right back against his own car.

Before either of you say another word, his mouth crashes straight against yours. His swift hands are quickly groping and roaming in every place around your body that he can reach while you submit to his moves. You’ve forgotten how electrifying Chan can be at times when it comes to intimacy, that you really start to feel it when he slides his knee in between your thighs.

You gasp against his lips, yelping almost when his hands reach behind you to squeeze your ass and to try to bring your body as impossibly close to his as he can. For a split second, you break away to consolidate what is happening. Chan remains latched onto you, his mouth now working its way to your jaw and down to your throat, sucking and biting into your skin.

Neither of you care about whether or not he’s going to mark you up. All you care about at this point in time, is the hope that he’s going to fuck you.

“The door…open the door,” you mumble to him, even though you’re trying to find the handle yourself.

Even with the unshakeable frame of mind that he’s in right now, Chan listens to you. He pulls you forward with him so that he can yank the backdoor open. You hop onto the seat, pushing yourself backwards to the other side of the car to create room for him to join you. But Chan had his own idea planted already.

He grabs you by the ankles and pulls you right back to the edge of the seat closest to him. His hands take pride in reaching underneath your skirt and tearing your underwear down your legs.

He doesn’t even get the opportunity to fully take them off as they dangle on one leg. In saying that, it doesn’t take you very long to click onto what he wants to do. So you help him by doing your best to hike your skirt further up your thighs. Chan decides to take a few seconds to appreciate being able to relive this moment once more by using his thumb to swipe over your wet slit, collecting your juices only to bring it up to his mouth and suck it right off.

“Fucking missed this,” he speaks for the first time in about five minutes before lifting both of your legs and separating them for his head to slot in perfectly between.

The fan of his hot breath washes over your skin, already making your squirm forward towards his mouth. It’s been a long time since someone had touched you and Chan could tell. He knows how needy you can be, but not when you’re like this. Not when you’re straining to reach for the back of his head to pull him closer to your pussy. Not when you’re already moaning when he’s barely touched you.

Not when you’re wetter than what he usually thinks you are.

“Y-Yes…right there,” you sigh out and lie back down, waiting eagerly.

One of your hands threads through his dark hair and tugs every time he sucks on your clit. Shivers of pleasure reverberate throughout your body, already making your legs tremble on his shoulders. If anyone were to drive past, you know you and Chan would get done for public indecency. Except that devious consequence became an elicit far away thought drowned out by your own moans the more Chan continued to eat you out.

The best thing about it is that he’s not going easy on you. He’s being deceptively rough by digging his nails into your thighs and showing zero remorse when he relentlessly licks over that same sweet spot. The more work he puts into trying to make you cum, the harder he gets in his pants, straining at this point.

“P-Please Chan, hurry,” you cry out, trying to sit up and slide down further into his mouth. “Need to cum, please.”

When your begging and moaning become increasingly louder and more frequent, Chan knows you’re on the cusp of an orgasm. However, as much as he used to enjoy you cumming on his face, the idea of you cumming on his cock is just as good, if not better. So just as you’re about to tip over the edge, Chan pulls back.

You blink in amongst the haziness of what was about to be a mind shattering orgasm to see Chan who’s head had lifted up from in between your legs. His mouth and chin were covered in your juices, and is completely unashamed about it.

“You can just fucking wait,” he snaps and begins to adjust your legs so that he makes sure they cage his body at his sides, that way he can grab onto your thighs and fuck you hard and steady.

Although you can barely see, you hear the zipper to his pants open before he takes out his cock, hard and ready to put it to use on you. You bite down on your bottom lip when Chan uses his tip to tease your entrance. He pushes his hips forward, enough to make his cock slide up and in between your pussy.

Chan’s shaky hand manages to get a proper hold around his dick, aligning it with your wet hole, and slowly pushes in as the heat begins to encapsulate around his length. The top half of his body nearly falters forward if it weren’t for his hips that thrust forward first.

“Chris…” you mutter in an aspirated voice, feeling the fullness of his cock stretch you out.

There is no forewarning for the strength he has behind each buck of his hips. It takes you back to times before during your relationship and how deliciously memorable the sex always was. Chan’s main priority was to always make you cum first and regardless of his own needs and pleasure. Whether you misbehaved or were being an outright undeserving brat in bed, even then he would still let you cum. That’s how much he loved you.

“Nobody can ever fuck you the way I do,” Chan grits his teeth, his eyes watching his cock disappear inside of you each time he rams forward, hard and fast.

Every second that goes by, you’re grappling more and more onto your last threads of sanity. It’s hard to keep up and absorb Chris’s stamina and pace - a relentless and unapologetic pace that hits the same spot inside you over and over again until that build up of pleasure starts spreading around your lower abdomen.

“Make me feel…so good,” you mumble incoherently. “Gonna make me cum.”

It’s been a long time since Chan has heard you say those words - hell, even heard you moan at the very least. It’s enough to keep his pace steady but he’s very wary of the fact that he himself is already near the edge of an orgasm too. Nonetheless, he’s determined to get you there first once more.

So Chan lets go of one of your legs at his side so that he can use his thumb to now rub fast circles over your clit. Your hands grip at the hem of your skirt, back arching as you start submitting to the crest of intense pleasure Chan has built up for you. Then within seconds, Chan has you cumming hard around his cock, shuddering, and straining his name out of your mouth as it rings throughout his car.

“Fuck, baby…” he groans as his head tips back before he starts spilling white inside of you.

His hips stutter finally, gently slowing down to a leisurely pace while he drowns in the afterglow from one of the most transcendent orgasms he’s ever had. He gives you both time to come down before he carefully slides out of you. It takes you a while to fully fathom what just happened, but you allow yourself to think about it. Whatever it is, it’s not regret. There’s a longing feeling there, a borderline sense of relief.

Once Chan is decent, he helps you slide your underwear back on even though you’re both fully aware of the fact that he just came inside you. It’s not like either of you were prepared for this to happen. In saying that, Chan gently takes hold of both your hands and gets you to sit up.

“You okay?” he questions, using his finger to hook some of your messed hair out of your face.

You nod, “yes. You?”

“I’ve been worse,” he answers, making you smile. “I’m really sorry for what I said earlier.”

You shake your head, “I’m sorry as well for being so stubborn. I figured that the more hostile I am towards you, the more I push myself away so that I don’t have to deal with any feelings from before.”

Chan completely gets it, “I know. I thought I could do the same, but it seems that I’m too nice.”

You roll your eyes, “you’ve had your moments.”

“I definitely have,” he replies. “Anyway, we should go in case anybody just saw that.”

A bashful sense of embarrassment washes over you. It’s been minutes before you realised that you just fucked your ex. But even so, it doesn’t really feel that way. It’s just Chan, someone who you still have a lot of love for.

“You can stay at mine, it’s late,” you suggest to him.

Chan smiles softly, “as if I’m going to say no.”

A/N: Yes, I am a day late already to Kinktober - I just realised bc my dumb ass was trying to figure out time zones and when would be the best time to upload for people bc I’m quite some hours ahead from other countries. So I’ll just stick to my time zone, that way you’ll get my works a few hours earlier x

KINKTOBER TAGLIST: @mal-lunar-28 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @lizzetmv @luneskies 🩷🩷

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #kinktober

778 notes · View notes

amhrosina · 1 year

Text

Show Me How Much You Missed Me (Matt Murdock x f!Reader x Frank Castle)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAG LIST

A/N: This is filthy. Like, FILTHY. I’m ashamed. Brooke, look away!!!! Also, where do we land on the whole cum/come thing??? I tried “come” out in this one, and I can’t decide if I like it spelled this way or not. Let me know (you can send me an anonymous ask if you don’t want to comment that lmfao)!

This can be read separately from Play Time, but it’s a continuation of it, so if you feel like it, read both!

(Part 1)

request: poly!mattfrank when reader finally uses their safeword because they were being to rough, and that practically kills them because of the guilt they feel, to the point where they don't touch reader for almost a week

Summary: You get overwhelmed during playtime and use your safe word, spurring a tense few days as you, Frank, and Matt try to figure out how to interact with each other afterwards.

(Warnings: oh god so much smut, oral (fem & male receiving), p in v penetration, reader gets overwhelmed during playtime, cursing, somewhat dom!Frank & dom!Matt, reader & matt & frank go to paris, it’s literally all smut like don’t read past this line if you don’t want to read the smuttiest smut I’ve ever written, a little angst I guess, I probably missed a warning or two)

It had been a bad week, the worst week, if you really thought about it. Through no fault of your own, important packages had been mixed up at work, causing your boss to lose his shit on the only person within yelling distance, aka: you. Then, you’d managed to spill coffee all over your dress, which made you inexplicably late the next morning. And if that weren’t enough, you’d dropped your phone in your mug of tea today and hadn’t been able to turn it on since then.

All you wanted to do was relax and unwind when you got home from what felt like the longest week of your life. Frank and Matt had noticed your growing tension, but neither had mentioned anything to you about it. You always came to them with problems when you were ready and had sorted through your feelings, so they offered silent support while they waited for you to work through it in your head.

When Friday night finally came around, all you’d wanted was some time away from responsibility. You wanted to give yourself fully to your boys, let them make the decisions for you, and let them take care of you until you forgot about the shitty week you’d had.

That was how you ended up in your current position: wrists tied to the headboard behind you, blindfolded, and overwhelmed with pleasure. Frank was stationed at the end of the bed, holding your hips up so he could properly pound into you. Matt was by your side, fingers working your clit so hard you could barely breathe. Everything was going to plan, everything was working, until it wasn’t.

“Our pretty girl,” Matt coed in your ear, “So wet for us.”

Matt’s hand came down in a harsh slap on your pussy. You jolted forward at the unexpected contact, panting. Frank hoisted your hips up further, slamming into you at an untethered pace. Tears pricked your eyes, and you couldn’t quite figure out if they were out of pleasure or pain. You didn’t know how to feel.

On the one hand, you had asked for this, and Matt and Frank were doing exactly what you’d asked them to do, but now you were so far in your own head about what a shitty week you’d had that you couldn’t find the pleasure you’d been searching for earlier. And yet, you couldn’t open your mouth and ask them to stop. You’d never used your safe word before, and you weren’t sure how they’d react if you tried. Would they be upset? Would they be angry?

You must’ve stiffened, because Matt was no longer whispering in your ear, nor was he touching you. Frank had paused his movement too, and you could only guess that he and Matt were communicating silently, the way they always did when it came to you.

“Kitten,” Matt murmured, “Are you okay?”

A rush of tears welled in your eyes, and your bottom lip began to wobble in anticipation of the sob crawling up your throat.

“Satin.” You mumbled, finally allowing yourself to express the pent-up emotions you’d been harboring all week. Tears stained the blindfold, still covering your eyes, and you turned your face away from the both of them, crying into the pillow next to your head.

Frank and Matt moved at an unrivaled pace. Matt was quick to untie your wrists from the headboard, while Frank pulled out of you and removed your blindfold. It all happened very quickly, and suddenly they were on either side of you, pulling you into a comforting hold.

“I’m sorry.” You sobbed, resting your forehead on Frank’s chest.

“Don’t be sorry, sweet girl. Did we hurt you?” Frank asked, stroking your hair. Matt was pressed against your back, arms circled around you in a firm hold. You were between your two boys, safe and loved.

You shook your head, sniffling. “No, I’m just a mess.”

“You’re not a mess, sweetheart.” Matt corrected, nuzzling into your back.

You didn’t respond, too caught up in your head to reveal the reason you were so emotional, and eventually, you fell asleep, wrapped in the arms of the only two men you’d ever be comfortable enough to love.

It was days later when you realized there might be a problem. All weekend, Matt and Frank had barely touched you, the only contact between the three of you being when you first awoke and had managed to tangle yourself in their arms. Other than that, they were overly cautious around you, almost like they were walking on eggshells.

When you’d tried to initiate contact, one or both of them would come up with a reason they couldn’t stay for long. Late night patrols and client meetings cropped up randomly, and at the most inconvenient times, like when you were minutes away from unbuckling Matt’s pants and putting your mouth on him. The excuses were becoming less and less believable, and you were growing more frustrated by the hour.

You’d finally had enough on Wednesday evening. You were currently stationed in front of the door, refusing to move out of Matt’s way as he tried to rush out of the house again. Frank was watching this interaction from the hallway, nervously wringing his hands as you stood your ground.

“You are not leaving, Matthew.”

“Sweetheart, I have an important meeting with a client tomorrow. I have to brush up on the case against them.”

“You have all your work stuff here." You glanced at his briefcase sitting on the coffee table. “Why do you keep leaving?”

“I’m just busy at work, Kitten.”

“No.” You shook your head, glancing at Frank for help. Tears threatened to spill, and you had to gulp down your emotions before you continued. “No, something’s up. Why haven’t either of you touched me since Friday? I’ve tried and both of you keep shutting me down. Are you angry with me?”

“No, sweetheart.” Frank pushed himself off the wall, moving toward you and Matt. “No, there’s nothing to be angry about. I promise.”

“Well then why are you guys acting like this?” Your hands shook with anger and confusion. Frank and Matt were both hands-on kind of guys, but they hadn’t so much as laid a hand on you in days.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” Matt mumbled, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“We didn’t want to hurt you again, that’s all.” Frank revealed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hurt me?” Your brow furrowed, and suddenly their odd behavior over the past few days made total sense to you. “You thought you hurt me on Friday? When I said the safe word?”

“Why else would you say the safe word?” The confusion on Frank’s face was clear, and you were overwhelmed with a sense of relief. They still loved you, and all three of you were idiots. You shook your head, rubbing your face with your hands.

“I was just overwhelmed. I had a bad week last week, and I couldn’t focus, and I just needed a hug and a second to think through my feelings, but you didn’t hurt me. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Matt asked

“Completely. Is that why you guys won’t touch me? Because you thought you hurt me?”

“We didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Frank said, shyly placing his hand on your lower back.

“That’s not possible.” You grinned, unable to hide your giggle at how ridiculous the entire affair was. “Will someone please touch me now?”

Matt grunted, cupping your jaw and pulling your lips against his. It was a vicious kiss, full of longing and regret, but you opened yourself to him completely. You felt it in your bones – your soul reached out to them in desire, longing to feel loved again. You ripped your mouth away from Matt’s and turned to Frank, kissing him with equal ferocity.

Matt followed your movements, pressing himself into your back as he kissed your neck. Frank wrapped one hand around your waist and the other around Matt’s shoulder, pulling both of you toward him with a lustful grunt.

“You wanna play, Kitten?” Frank smiled into the kiss as Matt taunted you.

“Yes. Show me how much you missed me.” You mumbled, reaching for Frank’s belt buckle.

“Gentle or rough, sweet girl?”

“I don’t want to be able to walk for a week.”

Matt groaned into your neck, all too eager to oblige you. Frank was already working on pulling your shirt over your head, and you shimmied out of your pants so fast that you almost lost your balance in the process. Frank chuckled, hoisting you into the air so that you could wrap your legs around him.

As he walked toward the bedroom that the three of you shared, you made sure to grab onto the collar of Matt’s shirt and tug him along. He would’ve followed you anyway, but you wanted to make sure he knew how much you wanted him there. He was always the more sensitive one when it came to upsetting you.

Frank set your legs down softly on the bedroom floor, and you immediately dropped to your knees in front of him.

“Can I taste you?” you asked, blinking up at Frank with an innocent smile on your face. It took everything Frank had not to drop to his knees and join you on the floor. He’d do anything for you, but when you had that look in your eyes, he’d be content with burning the world if that’s what would make you happy.

“And you?” you asked, placing your hand on Matt’s leg as he moved past you.

“We’re supposed to be making you feel good, Kitten.” Matt replied, smirk on his face.

“I want to make you feel good, too.” You mumbled, looking back and forth between them.

Matt’s smirk grew as he bent down, placing his fingers below your jaw and tugging upwards to pull you off your knees. Frank grunted in disapproval, but Matt clicked his tongue before Frank could say anything. Matt’s smirk told you he had a plan that would please everyone.

“Hands and knees. On the bed.” Matt placed his hands in his pockets in a casual gesture. You tried to keep yourself from drooling at how attractive he always managed to be, even when he wasn’t trying.

“Now, Kitten.” he urged, impatient as ever.

You lurched forward, eager to please him, and jumped on the bed, pulling your clothes off in the process. Matt pulled Frank in front of you by his belt, and you drooled at the contact. They didn’t always give a lot of attention to each other in the bedroom, but when they did, you melted inside.

Matt made his way behind you, walking at a seductively slow pace. Your mouth watered as Frank unbuckled his belt, pulling out his hard length and pumping it a few times. You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the tip, which earned you a stunted groan. As you wrapped your lips around Frank’s cock, Matt’s hand made contact with your ass. You moaned, pushing your head further down Frank’s length. Matt’s fingers drew a trail through your folds, and the sound of his breath sucking in as you soaked his fingers was enough to fuel your ego for a month.

“Matty.” You whined, arching your back further. “Touch me, please.”

“Can I taste you?” He asked, and you physically felt yourself flood with desire. His raspy tone, a steady reminder that you’d invited the Devil to share your bed, sent a rhythmic pounding to your core.

“Please.” You moaned, wrapping your lips around Frank’s length again.

Matt didn’t hold back. He swiped his tongue up your folds, spurring an unholy moan from you.

“Sweet.” Matt mumbled, before attacking your clit with his tongue.

It was a flurry of grunts and moans, and you were so worked up from not getting any attention over the past few days that your orgasm was already fast approaching. Matt was a master with his tongue, and your legs began to shake within seconds of him licking your cunt from top to bottom.

Frank pulled your hair behind your head, lightly thrusting into your mouth. You took him deeper, eyes watering, and when he finally thrusted into your throat, you couldn’t stop yourself from coming all over Matt’s tongue. It hit you like a ton of bricks, knocking the wind out of you while also lifting you higher than you’d been in weeks. You grunted, moaned, and groaned as Matt continued licking at your cunt, content to stay in that exact position until he lapped up every drop of your orgasm.

When he finally pulled away, you moaned in short-lived relief. Matt loved to overstimulate you, but what you really wanted was for him to fuck the life out of you. Matt ran his hands over your ass, gripping the skin so hard you were sure there would be bruises the next day. The jingle of his belt buckle hitting the ground made your toes curl, and desire ran through you so fast that you took Frank as deep as you could manage.

Frank grunted, pleased with your neediness, and began thrusting harder into your mouth. Matt lined himself up with your entrance, swiping his length through your folds for good measure. You couldn’t take the anticipation any longer, so you arched your back even further, whining so that Matt could hear how bad you wanted him.

“You’re doing so good, Kitten.” Frank murmured, tightening his hold on your hair. “Isn’t she doing so good, Red?”

Matt ran a hand down your spine, sending shivers throughout your body.

“She’s perfect.” Matt panted before pushing himself inside you.

Everything was still for a moment as you adjusted to Matt’s length in you. He was big, and you hadn’t been thoroughly fucked in days, so the pressure was intense for a moment. When you finally resumed bobbing your head up and down Frank’s cock, Matt began thrusting into you.

He started slow, matching Frank’s soft thrusts until he knew you were okay. You pushed back against him, asking him to go faster, and he eagerly obliged. Matt pounded into you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body, while Frank thrusted into your mouth at the same speed. You were overwhelmed with pleasure and so turned on that it didn’t surprise you when you could feel the beginning of another orgasm forming in your core.

“You ‘gonna come, Kitten?” Frank asked, pulling your hair back so that you could look in his eyes. You nodded bashfully, cheeks growing warm at the attention.

“Not yet, Kitten.” Matt murmured, thrusting so deep inside of you that you swore you saw stars.

You whined as you tried to stave off your orgasm. You didn’t think they would punish you if you came too early tonight, but you didn’t want to take that chance. For once, your bratty alter-ego was happy to remain on the sidelines. They pounded into you from both sides, and your moans grew louder as you continued to try and ignore the pounding in your core.

“C’mon, Red. Let her come.”

Frank grinned as Matt sighed and leaned closer to you. He wrapped his arm around your waist, sliding his fingers across your pussy until he landed on your clit. A spark of unbridled need flowed through you, and as soon as he started moving his fingers, you were on the verge of exploding.

“Come, Kitten.” Matt commanded. And you did.

You sagged forward, dropping Frank’s length from your mouth as you let out a sinful moan into the mattress. Your entire body tensed as the waves of your orgasm crashed through you, and you couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks as Matt continued to pound into you.

When you could finally breathe again, Matt pulled you up against his chest and wrapped his hand around your throat. You rested your head on his shoulder as his sloppily thrusted into you. His breath hitched, and you knew he was seconds away from coming.

“Where do you want me to come, Kitten?”

“I want you to fill me up, Matty. I want both of you to.” You panted.

Matt grunted, then let out a stunted moan as he came in you. The hand around your throat tightened, and Matt pressed his forehead into your shoulder as he panted. You heaved a breathy sigh, and tried to wilt against Matt, but Frank had other ideas.

Frank hoisted you in the air, flipping you over and dropping you on the bed on your back. Matt flopped down next to you, taking your chin in his hand and bringing his lips to yours in a sweet, apologetic kiss. Matt still felt bad about essentially ignoring you for days. He always sat in his guilt for longer than most, but you and Frank didn’t mind coaxing him out of his shell when he needed it. You’d no doubt have to remind him later that he had nothing to feel guilty about.

“Hold on to somethin’, Kitten.” Frank grumbled, wrapping his arms around your thighs and roughly pulling you toward him.

Frank slammed into you, spurring a loud moan out of you. He pounded into you at an animalistic pace, and the only thing that kept you from flying off the bed was Matt’s grip on your waist. Matt gave his attention to your chest and nipples, flicking his tongue across the nubs as you cried out in ecstasy. The room became a multitude of sounds – skin slapping skin, whining moans, and Frank’s muted grunts as he ruined you.

When Matt dropped his hand to your clit, you lost all sense of composure. You lurched forward, allowing your third orgasm to crash over you. You became a delirious hot mess, so worn out and happy that you barely registered Frank coming in you soon after.

Frank slumped down next to you, breathing hard into the mattress as the three of you came down from your highs. When your heartrate finally returned to normal and you felt like you could breathe again, you leaned over Frank, pulling a large blanket off the end of the bed and spreading it out over the three of you. You laid back, pulling both of the boys’ heads into your chest.

“I love you guys.” You murmured, kissing both of them on the head.

“We love you, sweetheart.” Frank said, still panting.

“The next time I use the safe word, you guys can’t freak out like this, okay? I trust both of you to take care of me. I just needed a second to think.”

“Okay.” The two men grumbled, already half asleep from the happenings of the evening. You snuggled into Matt’s chest, pulling Frank’s arms around you as you moved. You took a deep breath, so content to stay in this position with your boys forever. If you asked, they’d probably figure out a way to make it work. They’d do anything for you, and that is exactly the way you like it.

Tag List:

@alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @mymamalife @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @theesexystallion @soft-emo-enby @purple-amaranthe @alina02 @thedevilwearsblack @violet-19999 @shoxji @layazul @lazyxsquirrel @honeysucklepotter @m0nster-fvcker @matthewmurdockswhore @moxkindagirl @megmastersgf

780 notes · View notes

a-world-with0ut-dr34ms · 1 year

Text

Come Down In Time

From Control - Full Story in Progress on AO3!

Ghost x Shadow!Reader There's something about you that Ghost just can't seem to figure out, and it's driving him crazy. Or basically, Ghost has a crush and he doesn't know what to do about it, so he tries to fight his feelings.

TW - Non-graphic mentions of throwing up (nothing crazy) Tags: Slow burn, Angst, Touch-starved!Ghost, Soft!reader, Fluff, Teasing, Flirting, Innocent intimacy, sweet moments, kinda sad Ghost Word Count: 5.6k

Masterlist

Can be read like a one-shot

Author's Note: I feel like if Ghost started to like someone, he wouldn't know what to do about it. This is from his POV. I hope it's not too cringe. Sorry it's longer and slow~ (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ )

...

Part III - Come Down In Time

You talk a lot.

The chatty ones usually got on Ghost's nerves, as it was mostly empty bluster and nonsense. Especially in regards to him. The man can only hear the same kinds of questions for so long.

People always want to know the most surface level things about him -- why he wears his masks, why he’s so quiet, what crawled up his ass and died? Ghost used to have a few creative responses for that, but after a while he’s grown less inspired to do so.

Only you never asked the normal questions he was used to hearing about. Not really. Those thoughts never seemed to occur to you. You didn’t seem to care.

Your questions were little ones. Ones he wasn’t used to thinking about, let alone sharing. They reminded him of the kinds of things a civilian would ask. Innocent. Not like how the other soldiers spoke at all.

And when you speak to him, you weren’t talking to his rank or reputation; you don't let that front of his distract you. You speak directly to him. The man behind his mask. A shadow of himself that you act as though you see clear as day.

And it didn’t seem to matter how many questions he dodged, or how blunt and aloof he behaved. You just continued to be there, asking away. Seemingly for no reason. Though Ghost was not naïve nor fool enough to believe this could just be a whim for you. He’s not an idiot, and neither are you.

You pick your words carefully. It might take you a second or two to come up with a response -- whenever it isn’t just on the fly -- but your words are not often spoken without some thought to them. Even your most honest moments only seem to be a small piece to an otherwise elaborate puzzle.

It unnerved Ghost the way he caught himself picking you apart. How he had begun to do so without even noticing. You and Soap both could talk a dog off a meat truck if given the opportunity, he’s come to learn. It should annoy him how casual you two were with him. It should.

It’s only made Ghost realize how long it’s been since there’ve been people around to feel this way about.

There was a passing thought he had, as he watched you in the passenger’s seat of the car. Some deep seeded memory which bubbled in his mind. Old and covered in dust. It’s there only for a brief second, but just long enough to nag at the man for the rest of the drive back to the barracks.

If only he could put his finger on it.

“I’ve got another!”

You clap your hands in excitement, as a sloppy smile grows on your face. You must’ve had the entire bar after he’d stepped out for a smoke, judging from how drunk you still were. Ghost hadn’t even been that long; he thought so at least.

Despite your enthusiasm to share another joke, for some odd reason you don’t speak until he gives you a response. Ghost almost didn’t, had he not noticed after glancing over. The way you were just waiting there like some lost, playful puppy had him reeling a bit. You even batted your eyelashes at him.

You were just the strangest thing.

“Well, don't get shy now,” he says.

“Why don’t dinosaurs talk?”

“Why?”

“Because they’re dead.” You laugh at your own joke.

Seems you’re a dork as well.

Your laughter had an enticing pull to it though. Like a warm, open door, it beckons a look-see.

Ghost wouldn’t admit it -- he hardly believes it himself -- but he likes the way your voice sounds. Don't ask him why though; he's been racking over that question all evening. Your voice just seems to draw him in rather subliminally, as though you were slowly putting a spell on him.

You weren’t afraid to laugh or talk when no one asked, seemingly living life by the breeze. Only when he looked in your eyes, Ghost saw something else in them, behind the optimism and confidence. Something familiar. And it absolutely drives the man mad trying to figure out what that look could be.

You drum your hands on your lap bashfully, looking out your window again. "Not my best joke."

“We can’t both be funny,” he says.

“Gee thanks.”

The car falls into a sudden silence after your comment. Ghost finds a place in it, spacing out with his driving. Eventually he goes into auto-pilot, the passing of each streetlight blending with the next.

You didn’t look like you wanted to cry anymore, which must be a good sign. Ghost watched you fight to hide it since you left the bar; a real battle with yourself from the looks of it. He’s not sure what brought these tears out, but he had a few ideas. If you wouldn’t mention it though, then he wouldn’t either.

He never did enjoy watching others cry, especially those who don't deserve to. He can't help but feel a little uncomfortable around it too, never being quite good in these kinds of situations. But somehow, he's managed to help you, if not serve as a viable distraction.

You awkwardly hum to yourself, shuffling in your seat a bit. The silence must bother you from how you squirm about and play with strands of your hair. Modestly. Ghost couldn't quite understand what it was that made you so awkward around him.

At first, he assumed you were just intimidated by his appearance, like most are. His looks alone have done enough wonders keeping the riffraff away thus far. Yet here you sit beside him. You’ve sat beside him all night. Looking at him as openly as any other man.

When Ghost saw you didn't care about his looks, he then thought it was his attitude which made you so strange with him. But you come back around even then, with that same little smile.

You just seemed to be OK with him.

It’s difficult for Ghost to pinpoint what it was about you which turned his attention so easily. He wouldn’t normally give anyone a second thought outside of their working relationship. He saw no need to. It’s not like people didn’t come and go in his life, enough to where it’s gotten easy to not bother and keep everything at proper distance.

Yet with you around, Ghost felt different. He almost couldn’t help himself.

The fact that you even convinced him to come out tonight was something to be noted. It had just been that look on your face when you offered to drive him. All rain-soaked and chattery teeth, trying to keep up some front that you could endure the wet, cold conditions with him. You stuck around to the bitter end of it, like you really wanted him to be there tonight.

You had looked so excited when he finally agreed to, too.

“I don’t know how you can drive around with no music on,” you suddenly comment.

Ghost watches you lean over and turn the radio up, as some commercial sounding pop music begins to play. You frown in a similar fashion to how he felt hearing it be turned on. Your fingers then flip through the stations daintily, twisting and pressing all sorts of knobs and buttons like a sound coordinator. A playful smile grows suddenly, as your eyes search his again.

“Any preferences?”

Clever girl. Ghost hasn’t forgotten how much you’ve seemed interested in knowing what he likes to listen to. At this point, he figured he’d keep the game going. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Damn,” you pout. “I thought that would work.”

“You’ll have to do better than that.”

What was it this reminds him of? Was this a memory? An old feeling? It stirs a storm in Ghost, something fierce. Like a song in the back of his mind he couldn’t remember the lyrics to. There’s a melody there, but it's all mixed up and far away. It grates at him.

Don't get used to this, he tells himself. Don't start now.

Ghost watches ahead, eyeing every pedestrian and car that passes by his headlights. Dissecting his own thoughts. Trying to get this damn nagging feeling to either show itself or bugger off. When he tries to think more deeply of it, somehow his mind always manages to come wandering back to you.

Suddenly, he has a clear picture in his mind of you again. Just as you are, just as he’s seen you thus far. Canary: The way your eyes bounce about, how your lips move when you talk or smile, the small cut above your brow from your last mission, that just doesn't seem to concern you in the slightest.

Every hour he'd find something new to see, piecing in this puzzle of you in his head.

You change the station to something softer -- some acoustic song that blends nicely with the rest of the noise around him. Ghost finds it easier to concentrate. When he looks over at you, you’ve settled a bit, perhaps a little more nauseous in the face, but settled. Seems the music was all you needed.

You sing beneath your breath to the song on the radio. You're drunk enough to do it, but not so much to do so loudly, as you try and blend in with the singer’s voice, almost to hide it from him. Ghost picks up on your tune however. Your voice is distinctive.

He quietly listens to you sing for the rest of the drive home.

He almost forgets the radio is even on.

...

Ghost parks the car in the barrack parking lot. Without much thought, he steps out and makes his way around to open the door for you. By the time he’s done all of this, you haven’t even unbuckled your seatbelt yet. This makes him rather impatiently lean over and unbuckle it for you.

As he leans in to do so, he feels the warmth radiating from your body, along with your eyes, which sit on him like the beating sun. Your breath catches in your throat, as you move your arms out of the way so he can help you.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” you joke.

Ghost doesn’t reply (though he rolls his eyes), merely watching as you swayed in your feet once you stepped out, seconds away from wobbling over drunkenly. He takes hold of your arm before you can tip over however. You then stubbornly -- and feebly -- shake him off you, straightening yourself up.

“I got this,” you casually assure him.

“We’ll see.”

You two walk back to the barracks together, no words to say. Only for a moment.

“Mmm,” you begin to hum beside him.

“What?”

“The moon’s out,” you say.

Ghost looks up above himself. Indeed, the moon is out. You really are just some stray puppy he’s accidentally picked up, aren’t you?

Feels like it’s been raining all night before now; only a few hours ago was he swimming in a pool of rain trying to fix his damn truck. He’d probably just be up in his room right about now if you hadn’t convinced him to come out tonight.

Now the moon hangs above your heads, as full and far away as the night before, the stars peeking out between the dark clouds that were just beginning to break apart. When his eyes drop back down to you however, he almost makes a double take.

The view above only seems to pale in comparison.

Your head is cocked back, observing the sky above you with a drunken, childlike wonder. Your cheeks and nose are flushed from the cold, and the moon truly seems to fascinate you. You smile to yourself, big eyes skimming the clouds. Moonlight shines off your skin like a soft, luminescent glow; making you appear almost otherworldly. It’s enough to make a man lose track of his own thoughts.

That distant, unfamiliar feeling nagged at him some more.

“Observant as always, Canary.”

Ghost retook your arm when he saw you slip up one of the steps to the barracks entrance. You grab hold of him instinctively, your slender fingers gripping to the fabric of his hoodie. Your hands can barely fit around his bicep, your grip a lot more secure and gentle than he would have expected. It almost makes him not mind that you’re holding onto him so closely.

He hesitates to remove his hand from your arm once you've reached the top of the steps, debating whether or not you’ll need the help. You make the decision for Ghost, gently prying yourself from his grip.

“It’s Y/N,” you say. “Call me Y/N.”

You look up at Ghost, who looks down at you, standing only about a foot away. He smells your perfume, even in the cold air, watching your breath fog above you towards the night sky. It makes the man tense up.

Y/N . He plays it back in his mind. Fitting.

“I’ll think about it.”

The place is quiet; by now you’re sure it’s nearly one in the morning. The soldier they had on CQ was passed out in his chair, though he would not have cared that you two were arriving so late regardless. You managed to make it to your door without needing any more help from Ghost however. Only just.

You clumsily dig into your pocket for your keys, before they jump from your fingers and clatter onto the floor. You then start to bend over to retrieve them, only to overestimate your stability and wobble forward. Ghost catches your arm just in time, hoisting you back up to your feet, as he picks your keys up for you.

The whole motion of this makes you suddenly nauseous, your stomach stirring and slurring and threatening to bubble in your throat at any moment. You begin to taste that acidic taste in your mouth, as you're now focusing on swallowing it down.

“Which key?” Ghost asks. You turn to him and point to a golden, round key. He unceremoniously unlocks and opens the door for you, though he doesn’t go away just yet. “You straight from here?”

“Yeah, yeah…” You begin to nod, but suddenly your legs start to buckle. You make a worried expression like you were about to be sick. Without saying anything, Ghost invites himself inside and ushers you to the bathroom. He swiftly lowers you to your toilet, lifting the seat for you as he seats himself at the edge of the tub beside you.

You didn’t need much else of an excuse to start letting out everything you’d had to drink tonight. You hug the toilet bowl in your arms, letting the sound of your own retching echo in your ears as you groan after every outburst.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Ghost comments. He instinctively pats your back, roughly, trying to help you out. “Have a few less in the future next time, yeah?”

You respond with a resounding groan, lifting a hand to give him a thumbs up, before letting more of yourself go. He’s sure you’ll feel less drunk once you’re done. It should help.

Ghost stops patting your back at some point, though his hand lingers. Unconsciously. When he finally notices the way the warmth of your back makes his hand tingle, he removes it, resting them back in his lap and looking off into the room.

This bathroom is dark, as the whites of the walls made the room feel cold. There comes this moment after midnight where the silence surrounding you feels just a little more trance-like, as though your consciousness teetered between thoughts and reality. Ghost experienced this the longer he sat by you.

He’s been here before, hasn’t he? Back home, long ago. With someone else. Back before…

Old names with dead faces, long buried someplace deep in him slowly began to surface. Faces he’d rather not think of.

Is that the feeling which nags at him?

What was it about you which felt so… forgotten…

…And why did it unsettled him so much?

Ghost stands up from the tub. He’s let this go on long enough.

“I should go.”

You look up at him from the toilet bowl. Your eyes are more sullen now. “Oh,” you say it with such disappointment, before clearing your throat and looking away. “OK. I understand. I uh… I’m sorry for tonight…”

“Enough already,” he says. “Weren’t like you forced me to be here.”

“True,” you stand yourself up from off the floor. “Less I forget I had to bribe you earlier to even come out at all…”

"Exactly."

You quickly make your way over to the sink to make use of your toothbrush. As you did so, Ghost remained in the bathroom with you, looming a few feet away.

He hasn’t gotten used to looking down to see you yet. He keeps forgetting how tiny you are. At least compared to himself.

Your appearance and physique alone were rather opposite to what he was used to. Had you two not worked together he would never have thought you were a soldier, let alone a mercenary. He supposes not everyone has that look. You certainly didn’t need it to be here either.

From where Ghost stands behind you, watching you brush your teeth, he sees the way your spine curves. How your legs extend to the floor, as well as their shape. You give your back to him rather vulnerably. What has he done to garner such trust?

When you finish, you look up to see Ghost still lingering by. Despite stating he’d be leaving, he hasn’t gotten around to it yet.

You grow quiet, trying to make sense of him through his mask again. Searching endlessly. Your expression drops, and your eyes glint with melancholy. As though you’d just made a foul discovery in him.

Ghost hides it, but it catches him off guard to see the shift in your demeanor. Because that’s a look he’s more familiar with. Did you finally see something you didn’t like in him? Have you finally come to your senses?

And why did he suddenly care to know?

Ghost knows the smart thing to do would be to leave it. But that other part of himself, the part which nags at him even now, had a different idea. One which felt more natural to do.

“Have I got somethin’ on my face?” A joke.

It’s the sound your voice makes when you giggle which has him feeling like a fool. It shouldn’t have moved him like it did.

“No,” you say. “Just taking in the view.”

“Must be a nice one.”

“It is."

Ghost nearly chuckles.

You're a flirt. He’s met his fair share before, but none quite as consistent as you. You've casually flirted with him since you two met, as you have with everyone he’s seen thus far; meaning he’s no one special. Though you’re a natural at making your words feel good.

“You play too much, Canary,” warned Ghost.

“I thought I told you to call me Y/N,” you tease back. Though your voice is still a little slurred and playful, you're being serious. “Have you forgotten already?”

“No,” he says. “I haven’t forgotten.”

The room grows still, and for a moment it feels as though time no longer exists -- the two of you stuck in some midnight plane of existence.

You observe him as intensely as he does you. The more you two stare, the more he's about to pick a new detail out from you to think about. Another qualm.

You have kind eyes.

When Ghost met you, that’s the first thing that caught his attention. How your eyes are so full of life and wonder. Gentle. Inviting. Human. And completely wrapped up in him.

You want to see him. You want to know him. Your kindness is like a hidden syringe, embedded in his veins somewhere before now, slowly injecting him. You pull the feelings from his chasm of a mind so easily.

Your kindness infuriates him.

Something else nags stills.

Ghost eyes shift to the mirror behind you. He sees a giant shadow. Himself. He could take one step closer to you and watch that “kindness” you've built for him crumble like the weak foundation it was based on. Witness all your hard work fall to ruin. Just as he’s willfully done before to countless others.

Since when has he been deserving of such kindness anyway? Who gave you that notion? What a cruelty it was, how easy it creeps up on him so uninvitedly. If only you knew what you toyed with. You wouldn’t bother with the likes of him if you did, he’s decided.

If only you truly saw.

“Are you tired, lieutenant?"

Ghost pauses. Your big eyes gaze up at him, genuinely curious to hear his answer. Had you not said another word, he may have stood there all night.

At first his mind hears the word "tired" and takes it personally. Yes he was tired. He’s been tired his whole fucking life. But then he realized what you meant by tired, and quickly settled down.

"Not necessarily," he says. Truth be told, he felt wide awake. He knows he probably wouldn’t have gotten any sleep tonight as it was. The nightmares have gotten bad again, worse than normal lately, though he hasn’t shared that with anyone. The last thing he wants is another evaluation. "Why?"

You grow shy suddenly. Words hang in your mouth but you hesitate to let them out. And Ghost holds his breath, waiting to hear you speak.

"Do you have to go so soon?"

He was afraid of this happening. Ghost had an inkling that you would ask him to stay. Would he have the strength to tell you no? He needed to. He shouldn’t even be thinking in any other way to begin with.

“It’s for the best,” he says robotically.

“Why?”

Bloody hell. “It just is,” he says, a little more irritated now. “Why ask?”

“I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Don't do this. Ghost can’t help but cross his arms, hugging them to his chest as he huffed to himself. "Weren’t you havin' a shit night a second ago?"

"I'm not anymore."

"I won’t make it much better."

You laugh now. "I'd beg to differ."

You just don't know when to quit, do you? You're so careless with how you speak to Ghost, not taking a moment to think of how much your words coaxed something dark in him. Something buried. It screams for you to leave it.

Ghost never lets off that your words have any effect on him. He’s mastered his poker face. The mask helps. “You give me too much credit.”

“You say that like you don't deserve it.”

“I don't," he takes a step closer to you now, towering over you. Subtly warning you. "Don’t act as though you know me. I already told you, you don't.”

He's right. You don't know him. No one knows him, or the hardships he's had to face, the people he's failed and lost… all the sacrifices he's had to make of himself just to survive. You only know a shell of himself. A mask.

The only ones who knew Ghost are dead ones; he didn't need more faces to join that crowd. He didn't need more fuel for the fire.

But you’re so Goddamn stubborn. You remain leaning against the sink, your gaze unwavering from his, arms crossed. Why do you look at him with such ease, even now?

“I don’t care,” you say.

You push yourself from the sink, approaching him closer, until you're only about a foot away again. Ghost doesn’t flinch. He makes no movement at all, merely keeping you in his sights. The air in the room starts to grow heavier.

Somehow you still smell of perfume and cold rain. It slowly takes over his senses, like some sort of pheromone.

“You should care,” he says.

“I wish I could know you more,” you continue, your smile only growing brighter. You’ve truly convinced yourself now. "You're quite the character."

Ghost finally breaks his gaze from you, looking off to the side. “There’s nothin’ about me worth knowin’.”

“That’s simply not true,” you tell him. “I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface.”

You don’t know what you’re talking about, Ghost tells himself. You think you do, but you don’t.

Whatever it was you were trying to do -- this getting to know him, trying to read him, or bond with him -- it needed to stop. It wasn’t necessary, and it wouldn’t do either of you any favors in the future going down this path.

He’s not just some book you can read through and understand, even if you two had a sit down and went through it word by word. Page by page. Trauma by trauma. What you see of him is some idea you’ve created, a bubble needing to be burst.

He begins again. Don't get comfortable.

“And what is it you know?” he challenges you harshly.

To his shock and dismay, you bring your hand up and begin going over a list with him.

“I know you care a lot more than you let on," you say. "I also know you’re funny. You’re good at what you do, and I know that you’re smart.”

You pause and start to think more about the man in front of you, gathering up everything you’ve managed to put together in such a short amount of time. In this silence, Ghost longs for you to stop.

End this while it was fun.

You then say, “I know that you were my favorite part about tonight.”

The man stands there, processing all your words. Is that what you think of him? “You’re still drunk.”

"You’re avoiding my eyes,” you taunt.

He's had enough of this.

As if to protest your words, Ghost rips his gaze back to you, and you see a fire burn in his dark eyes, piercing straight through you. They tell you to get back. If he could scare you away with one look, he’d let it be and forget this exchange ever happened.

But you’ve seen all sorts of eyes in your lifetime, and Ghost’s did anything but scare you.

You’re unmoved by his cold gaze. Unflinching as you had been when he’d first met you. Trying to find some home for him in your mind even now. It makes Ghost frown beneath his mask.

But even now, you still find some reason to smile at him. Ghost sees himself wrapped in your irises, absorbed by his presence, happy to have his eye again. "That's better."

Ghost's cold gaze wavers. He doesn't know what to say.

You stand so close to him now, if either of you extended your arms you could brush one another. There’s nothing he'd want more than to see how you might feel in his arms. How easily he could hold you. Touch you. He feels a few more starved heartbeats away from acting out on these impulses.

Ghost can only wonder what runs through your mind right now.

That nagging feeling just won’t go away.

Would he have to beg you to leave this where it is?

"I can't stay,” Ghost says again, quieter this time, his voice so low it sings in this empty room.

You hear Ghost's words, and really take in the emotions in his eyes this time. Your expression softens and you give the man a reassuring smile. You push no further.

Your acceptance shames him.

You say to him, "OK."

Somehow it doesn’t make him feel any better.

Ghost walks you out of your bathroom, shutting the lights off and closing the door for you, as the man watches you make your way over to the front entrance. The fairy lights you have decorating your window make the lighting a deep shade of purple, only offset by the streetlights that peaked from your curtains. It makes your room feel like a figment of his imagination at first.

Ghost pauses at your door, turning to face you a final time. You keep some distance from him.

“Hey um… before you go.” You take another step closer; each time you’ve stood by him you’ve found some way to be nearer. “I just wanted to say thank you. You didn’t have to come out with us tonight, or drive me home and deal with my bullshit, but you did, and… I really do appreciate it.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

You show him too much kindness. You stand there, looking up at him, with your sweet words and sweet scent. Standing so close to him. Too close.

“Well I am,” you say. “Tonight wasn’t really what I wanted, but... I mean it when I say you definitely were the highlight.”

You present your hand out, inviting him to shake it. “I hope you have a good night, lieutenant.”

Ghost looks down at your hand, feeling his heart catch in his chest. After some thought, he decides to return the handshake. His large hand engulfs yours, and though the coldness of his skin is so sharp it sends goosebumps up your arm, your hand remains in his.

"Likewise," Ghost says.

Seconds pass, and your hands remain together. Touching you, touching him. You're as warm as your personality, your touch soft and delicate in his, as your thumb gently brushes his battered knuckles and rough skin, ignoring all its imperfections.

Do you have to go so soon ?

When you start to pull your hand away, Ghost's grip tightens, keeping your hand in his. The dumbest thing he could possibly have done. You bring your eyes to his, your expression caught off guard, and he sees it in you finally -- that want to not be alone. The want to be closer. The longing to be near someone real.

It's the nagging, familiar feeling in your eyes he's seen all along. A shared want to be human for a moment.

You use the grip he has on your hand as an excuse to pull yourself near. Your other arm extends towards him, weaving beneath his arm and around his waist. You rest your head against his chest and close your eyes. With your ear to him, you listen to his heart race, and settle more against him. An innocent embrace.

Suddenly you felt as a giant, and he so meager.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think your touch frightened him, from how reserved he behaved. But you hug him like you’ve wanted to this whole time, smelling the outside on him, feeling the dry rain against your skin.

Ghost hasn't hugged you back yet, becoming somewhat of a passive observer, soaking in every sensation. How long has it been since someone touched him so gently? Since he's allowed someone to?

And how long has he been unknowingly waiting for someone to?

Ghost is stiff in your hold, fighting this flexing urge he had to instinctively pull away from you. Each second passes and the touch of your arms settles him, his body finally relaxing against yours. Before long, his arms wrap over your small figure, pressing you deeper into his chest. Like a child clutching a blanket.

Your arms adjust around him, making Ghost feel ashamed by how soothing you felt to hold. These actions feel so foreign.

The man's hold tightens, his chin slowly resting at the crown of your head. He can feel you exhale, the air leaving your body as your face buries itself beneath his arm. Even with both your clothes on, he can feel so much of you pressed against him. Your heat feels like a flame in the dark; long has he spent on this lonely trek freezing.

What more has he been missing?

Your fingers start to clutch at his back tightly, a small whimper leaving your lips, muffled between his arm and chest. Ghost had begun to squeeze you. He doesn’t let go until he feels you squirm a little. Once he realizes however, it immediately embarrasses him.

That shouldn’t have brought that out of him. He should not have allowed himself to do that. He takes a step back, eyes looking between you and the wall behind you. He doesn’t say anything, but he’s scolding his own actions. Damning them. Because now he found himself already missing it.

“Couldn’t breathe there for a second,” you laugh, your voice cutting into his thoughts so effortlessly. Ghost blinks, and in that instance he sees you again. You were absolutely beaming. “That was like a bear hug.”

“Don’t get used to it.” Ghost says to himself. You just happened to be the only other person in the room to hear it too.

You take no mind to his words, chuckling at them in fact. “It’ll be our little secret, lieutenant.”

Simon. He felt himself about to tell you. His name is Simon, the man you speak to. The one you’ve been trying to see all night. Not that you even asked for his name; you never did ask for much from him.

Ghost steps into the empty hallway, feeling all the atmosphere and energy from your room shed off like a dead layer of skin. It won’t take very long for him to adjust back into his old habits, as they do die hard. Though he had a few more things to think about now. Great…

“Oh and Ghost!” you call to him from your doorway. Ghost turns, seeing your head peeking out from your room. “Don't be a stranger.”

Your door shuts, and yet he lingers in the hall a moment longer. Thinking. His head sags in defeat and he finally pries himself away.

...Chapter Eleven Here!

#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare ii #modern warfare ii #modern warfare #cod mwii #mw2 #mw #mw2022 #mwii #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #modern warfare 2 #Spotify #control

212 notes · View notes

kaitlynpcallmebeepme · 1 year

Text

You'll Never Be Alone

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Idea: Based off of a lot of what @spencer-reids-adventures writes (which is really good btw) where reader and spencer have come up with a system where if either one of them has a hard case they force eachother to sleepover which ends the night with always talking about what's on their mind.

Requested: No

A/N: I’m making the background of the reader being a pediatric nurse before she joined the FBI/BAU because I want to be a NICU nurse (and it also gave me a reason to have made it a hard case especially for the reader). I switch a lot between who’s thoughts I’m speaking. **I love you if you get this Stray Kids reference.** Let me known if you want to be tagged when I write for a certain fandom. I finished this on a night shift (why is that the only time I ever have motivation to write), and I'm studying hard to take my NCLEX in a few months (the test you have to pass to become a nurse). I'll be sure to pick up my writing after that.

Let me know if you want to be on my tag list when I write or if you only want it to be for certain fandoms.

Requests: Nope, but requests are Open. Fandoms I write for in pinned post.

Warnings: Some season spoilers (just the themes, mainly in Spencer’s), infant death and kidnapping mentioned, child pornographer mentioned, hard cases, mental stress, mention of Spencer’s past drug use, Derek misinterpreting a situation, please tell me if I missed any.

Word Count: 2,122, wow one of my longest yet

We all trudged our way back into the bureau after one of the worst cases we had in a while. Cases involving kids were always hard and ones we put all our effort into, but this one involved infant kidnapping. That hit me at a deeper level than everyone else because I used to be a NICU nurse before I decided I wanted to join the BAU. Also, infants don’t deserve anything bad to happen to them. They literally are not strong enough to do anything to anyone.

I dumped my to-go bag on my desk, louder than I intended. I felt everyone’s eyes on me after that. “Sorry.” I mumbled.

Hotch and Derek were the ones to discover the bodies of the five missing infants and three more that were unidentifiable and decomposing in the basement of a manic bipolar who, apparently, had a miscarriage. That was my only saving grace in this case. Neither Spencer nor I had to see the bodies. I’m glad Spencer didn’t have to see them as well because I knew that he couldn’t forget that image no matter how hard he tried.

Spencer started packing up the paperwork from his desk adjacent to yours. "My place or yours?"

You knew he didn't mean it in a sexual way. You also knew there wasn't an answer option of 'I want to be alone right now.' Those were the rules you and Spencer set for yourselves.

It was after he came to you because a case affected him so much that he had the temptation to start using dilaudid again. He just needed some distraction then because he couldn’t go back down that slippery slope. Never again. You both made a pact that night that if there was a case that shook you to your core that you would not spend the night alone, no matter how you felt. Many bad things can happen when you’re alone with your thoughts after hard cases in a job like this.

“Mine. I got better food and you know it.” That made Spencer smile knowing that even through a hard case you still kept your sarcasm up. He also knew that it would break as soon as you were behind closed doors. You needed to be somewhere where it was safe to be vulnerable.

“Mine has my library though, and I know how much you like it there.”

“Fine, but you’re reading me Harry Potter to sleep and getting take-out.” At the end of the night, you didn’t care where you slept. You had some clothes at his apartment anyway.

You drove the both of you back because the subway was closed (it was the middle of the night, so obviously). The car ride was silent as you both were trying to figure out what to say or if any words needed to be said. It wasn’t awkward silence**, but comfortable silence. Once you parked, you and Spencer made it up to his apartment.

Spencer’s apartment usually gives you the warm homey feeling, but it just made you feel safe. Safe enough to break down. You stood no more than a few feet in the doorway and rivers of tears started coming out of your eyes. Your mind saying words of blame. ‘THEY WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE IF YOU HAD DONE MORE!’ ‘YOU SHOULD HAVE GONE IN THERE!’ ‘YOU SHOULD HAVE SAVED THEM!’ Your mind making your body numb and you couldn’t do anything but drop to your knees in Spencer’s front room. Your eyes flowed rivers of tears down your face as all your walls broke.

The arms of Spencer around your shoulders broke your intrusive thoughts. He slowly lifted you up and guided you to lay on the couch with your head in his neck. He allowed you to cry and be vulnerable and he gave your forehead kisses as silent words of reassurance. Spencer has been through more than enough in his life, yet he still chooses to show kindness to others. “I can’t get them out of my head. I didn’t even see them and I can’t get what their tiny bodies would look like out of my head.” It would be worse if you had an eidetic memory, but you didn’t say that. You were just feeling so defeated and helpless at the moment.

He let you fall asleep on his shoulder with him rubbing your back. You woke up being under covers in his bedroom with Spencer nowhere in sight. You still felt the sting of your eyes from crying so much last night. You walked into his living room to find breakfast, clearly ordered, set up in his living room. “I waited until you got up before I got your phone set up for Harry Potter.” His hair sticking up in many different directions from having obviously slept on the couch.

“Please tell me you didn’t sleep on the couch in your own home.” That would have made you feel worse if you kicked Spencer out of his own bed.

“No, I slept next to you in case you woke up from nightmares. I also got you breakfast from that Mom and Pop place you liked that does white chocolate chips in pancakes. Also, Hotch gave us both the day off to recover.” You looked at him as if he was your world, because to be honest, he was. There’s no one else who would treat you this way. Spencer was truly one of a kind. His cute curly hair stuck out every way while he wore a Washington D.C. sweatshirt. Probably one of the only ones he owns and that he was probably forced to buy in a downpour you suspected.

You sat on the couch next to your breakfast, raised your arms, and made grabby hands toward Spencer offering, more needing, him to sit with you. Spencer makes his way over to you looking the most comfy he has looked in days. You both sit on the couch and enjoy your breakfast while watching Chamber of Secrets. It was what you both needed to recover. Good food and good company.

The time when you got to pay it forward to Spencer was after a case in Vegas. You had mixed feelings about cases in Vegas. You hated the hot weather and it was a city of dreams, failures, mobsters, and addiction. It was also where Spencer was from and you knew he liked visiting his Mom, but you hated how many bad memories of his childhood the city brought up for him.

The case you were working was women who had their skulls cracked and left in the desert with carvings in their abdomen. Not your typical case, but working it wasn’t too difficult. The team ended up narrowing it down to a 30 yr old man who lived in Nevada his whole life. When we arrested him, in the act of dropping another body stupidly enough, Spencer didn’t move a muscle. He just slowly lowered his gun as Derek did the muscle work of arresting him.

Spencer was silent on the way back to the hotel and no one dared push him. He would open up on his own time. Once everyone exited the SUV, you took over the drivers wheel and searched for the nearest grocery store. You got jelly filled chocolate frosted donuts, Spencer’s favorite, and indian takeout.

You trudged up to his hotel room and fully expected Spencer to not open his door when you knocked. And you were right. You were met with silence and a still door. You sat down on the gross hotel floor and leaned your back against the door. “Just let me keep you company Spencer.” You knocked your head against the door, planning to sleep out there until he opened it up. Apparently you didn’t have to wait too long before you stumbled backwards because you didn’t hear the door knob.

When he opened the door, Spencer just looked defeated. All you could do was raise yourself up and wrap him in your arms. You slowly guided him to the bed with the food as he held onto you like his life depended on it.

“I knew him.”

“What?”

“I knew him. He used to bully me when I was taking high school classes at age 11. I couldn’t do anything about it then because no one would believe me and my Mom was having bad episodes then, so no one would believe her.” He just hiccupped and sobbed into your shoulder letting it all out, and you kept rubbing his back. “Seeing him again just opened up old scars.”

You couldn’t pretend to know what pain he was going through, but you knew you weren't going anywhere. You just rubbed his back and laid him down to try to lull him to sleep by running your fingers through his hair and whispering words of reassurance. You assured him that you would be there to scare away any nightmares and keep the demons away.

You fell asleep like that until morning, until there was a knock on the hotel door. You tried to slowly untangle yourself from Spencer’s arm grip and answer his hotel door, and of course who is it, Mr. Chocolate Thunder himself (you guessed that or Hotch).

“What do you want Derek?”

“This is Spencer’s room.” You looked at him dumbfounded and you’re pretty sure you had bed head.

“Yeah … and?” Those were the only words that it took for Derek to show those pearly whites in a smirk.

“Ok, I’ll let you get back to taking care of him.”

“I was, but not in the way you’re implying.” You whisper-shouted defensively. “We all know this case was tough on him. I didn’t want to leave him alone overnight.” That kinda brought Derek’s mind out of the gutter, because although he teases Spencer to no end, he does look at him like a little brother. He just smiled and nodded.

“If you don’t answer your phones, I’ll stop by when I get news about when the plane’s leaving.” He left it at that before leaving you be.

You couldn’t sleep much after your encounter even though you were back in Spencer’s arms, so you slept on the plane ride back. Spencer on the other hand, had gotten the best sleep he had after a hard case in a while. He was busy playing cards and giving facts to Derek about the history of playing cards.

“The most common theory of why there are 52 cards in the standard deck is that they correspond with the number of weeks in a year, given the fact that there are 365 individual symbols in a deck of cards, and that the 13 cards match the 13 lunar cycles, and that the 12 court cards match the 12 months of the year.” Spencer explained with his normal air finger movements to match.

“You seem more peppy after a case than usual Reid.”

“Well this case didn’t affect me as much for some reason. I didn't need as much time to recover from a hard case.” Derek already knew the reason. Everyone knew the reason. That’s what made it hard having a family of profilers. No secrets can be kept for long.

“She likes you, you know. And it could turn into something more if you asked her out pretty boy.” Spencer always knew the risk of trying to make something more between friends, the pros and cons of possibly losing that friend always laid heavily in his mind. Was it worth the risk? After seeing first hand how you treated him last night when he was at his lowest (well, not his lowest, but one of his low points), it may just be something more. The topic was left at that as they finished up their card game and the plane landed back in DC.

Because of the jet lag, Spencer wasn’t tired and he gauged that the nap you took on the plane ride was effective. This may be his golden opportunity before he overthought and talked himself out of it. He waltzed his way around to stand next to you at your desk while you packed up your case paperwork to do at home.

"Hey, do you maybe… I don't know. Want to get some food then go to that drive in theater outside of town? Together? As a thank you for staying with me last night." He had no idea if what he was saying was working or cringy. He'd never done this before. However, you shyly smiled at his shuddering mess.

"Yes Spencer. I would love to go on a date with you."

Well it apparently worked.

Summary rest of it: I might do two cases, this first one of the reader being stressed and the 2nd one of spencer being stressed. Everyone trudges into the bureau really exhausted and spencer says something that the reader needs to come to his place. They go to his place which we know has a wall of books but some other nerdy things and is very warmly for the reader. Once she sits on the couch she cries into her hands. Spencer comes to her side and hugs her while she cries into his shirt thinking it’s her fault the infants died (the UNSUB could be doing it because their kid died due to prematurity/miscarriage and the kids he stole died due to physical abuse because he obviously wasn’t taking care of them). Spencer stays with her and comforts her with words saying even though it’s upsetting that they died, it’s not her fault and they’re not going to be suffering anymore. She can’t get them out of her head but she does mention that it’s probably worse for spencer because of his eidetic memory.

Spencer’s case could be in vegas and the unsub could be a kid who bullied him a lot and the case is just bringing up memories and tearing open old wounds. Spencer trudges through the case insisting everyone he’s fine. They end up staying the night after the case ends and decide to leave in the morning. Reader ends up leaving to go to the corner store to grab tons of snacks and bangs her head on his hotel room door to knock. She doesn’t even ask if he needs someone to talk to because she knows he’ll say no but he does need someone. No matter if he wants to talk or not, she wraps him up in a blanket, feeds him good food, and maybe he does start talking. Morgan could try to get in the room once spencer’s asleep and the reader has to untangle herself from spencer’s arms to open the door and tell him off. Even though Morgan does tease them a little bit, he does say if he’s okay now, he’ll check up with spencer in the morning. When he does check in with spencer (either at the bureau or on the plane), spencer says he’s doing better than he usually would after a hard case like this and he’s not sure why, but morgan knows why obviously. It could end with morgan giving spencer a nudge saying he should ask her out, spencer could rephrase it and actually ask her if she wants to have a movie night just the two of them as a thank you for staying with him when he needed it.

#Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds family #criminal minds masterlist #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #bau #BAU Family #bau!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x fanfiction

32 notes · View notes

joeys-piano · 1 year

Text

An-tag-onist game

Tagged by @words-after-midnight, whom I'm currently beta-ing one of their oldest projects and have only read two original fiction works for pleasure this decade and I'm happy to say that theirs is one of them. The other one is "On Earth, We're Briefly Gorgeous" by Ocean Vuong. Which says something about the things I actually read, but that is neither here nor there.

Tagging (if you'll like to play along because y'all have interesting tastes): @feu-eau, @somuchanemoia, @voxofthevoid, @paleborza, @bowties-are-cool3000, @astralalmighty, @rebrandedbard, @hellfridge, and @walkinaroundtheuniverse and any of the rest of y'all who stumble upon this!

---

Rules: Have some fun by making an antagonist/villain, morally gray, or otherwise complicated character answer for their (alleged) fictional misdeeds, horrible and/or hilarious. BONUS: Add a poll to let public opinion decide what should be done with them. (Or just do it in the tags. Up to you.)

The accused: Kni | Nai | Millions Knives | "Hundreds Spoons" from Trigun Stampede

Evidence Against Him (in no specific order)

Chad™ body

Evil™ snuggy

Knife tentacles

Vaulting through a window through the thrust of his own pelvis

The voice of someone you'd spill your guts to and he'll sell you out for one (1) potato chip

Started a neo-catholic cult to enslave humanity under desperation, featuring himself and his twin brother as Adam and Eve-esque, Revelation-style angels here to deliver humanity to its end and blah blah blah blah blah

Kept a man alive for 150+ years to genetically modify and enhance the remaining BIPOC and disabled denizens of Noman Land to carry out the violence deemed "necessary" to show his twin brother that people aren't worth saving

Forces his brother into ultimatums where the end result is the same: his brother doesn't save anyone or keeps the promises he intends to keep and this further isolates him from the people he cares about until Knives is the only one he's certain with

Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss

Manslaughter

Loves his brother

Obsessed with his brother

Judges humanity on one (1) readthrough of the entire Bible, disregarding vast literature and actual history of what humanity can do and done

Has a body count in the thousands + the left arm of his brother, that he personally chopped off and is probably in preservation somewhere

Then gave his brother a bloody gun

Taunts him to kill a woman who is by no means a substitute to the mother figure he lost, but is an important person in his life whom he cares for and is cared back

Evil™ piano soundtrack whose title is his own name, that three notes into the song his twin brother knows shit is about to go down and rushes to where the music is the loudest to try to protect everyone from this madman

The horrors™ of the last two episodes of season 1, enough said

The intentional, institutional, and personal robbery of other's autonomy -- that any action not premediated in his grand game is a fault that lies outside of his own jurisdiction and should by no means exist, that there is no concept of free will or free choice because it's his way or the highway

Loving an idea of his brother so much that he violates said brother's memories and personal well-being, re-alters it into his image, and kills the things about his brother that makes his brother -- well, his brother

The audacity

Speaking as an asexual, I think a lot of his conflicts could be resolved if he got laid every now and then

Worst birthday present ever™

The way he slowly, deliberately, caresses down line that shot out from his brother's mechanical arm before he cuts it with a knife -- like there was some unresolved tension of an ambiguous but not ambiguous nature going on there; like, what a power move and a choice to just, just thread a finger over the one thing that seperates from your brother from your ideals and from the world he wants to live in before you take it -- and take him -- under

He alive

In His Defense

Loves his brother

The last three or four minutes of season 1 episode 3, where he unleashes the millions of knives like the mouth of armageddon and then it swallows an entire city -- it was cruel, it was badass, and it was a stunning animation sequence

Also that entire first confrontation with Vash in episode 3??? He has the air of someone truly frightening, just killed someone in a saloon, bathes his feet in dirty blood as he walks up to Vash -- voice soft, low, and saccharine; unafraid that there's gun on him, lightly touches the nuzzle, that I'm very convinced that if these two were not related there would be fanfics about the lovers to enemies tension going on in that saloon. And fuck, I know Knash or whatever the ship name is is a thing, and I'm frankly shocked that there aren't any fics I could find that focuses on the brothers to enemies to vaguely twisted lovers vibes that was in that scene. Were we all just sleeping on that, or what???

In their adulthood at 150+ years, Knives has never personally touched his brother. Like, skin to skin contact. Until the very last episode of season 1. It's always been personally impersonal. Like the touch of Vash's nuzzle. Skimming a finger over the steel line from Vash's mechanical arm. Knife tentacles stabbing Vash through the back. So close, yet so far. In that he wants to, really wants to, wants to bridge the gap from their childhood. And it's a sad thing, narratively, that the only first time he touches Vash -- like to skin to skin -- is when it looks like he's going to kill his brother for an ideal he wants Vash to believe in and it's like Knives accepting that of all the people he sent to hurt Vash, he will be the final person to hurt him the most.

#joey speaks #tagged #tag game #trigun stampede #millions knives #vash the stampede #trigun

8 notes · View notes

mischief-lies-and-stories · 7 months

Text

10 Thoughts About Loki Episode 1 (and Beyond)

Most of these are thoughts I had either 1., after watching the episode and therefore could not be included in the reactions post, or 2., during my second watch. Some are expansions of things I briefly touched on in my reactions that I've thought about more since watching but that I don't have enough to say about to make its own post.

Obviously, spoilers for 2x01.

Loki season 2 is going to be all about making sure we create all of the conditions that will allow for one moment (the end of episode 1) to occur perfectly and therefore save the lives of two main characters, which will require orchestrating the lives and decision-making of other characters (see below) within the series in order to bring this about. And I'm about to hate it so much. (Not the specific storyline, but the fact that time travel already confuses the fuck out of me. This premise could lend itself very easily to time loops and Groundhog Day-specific time loops, which are my absolute least favorite time travel tropes.)

One interesting part about this premise, though, is that it can (and should, but we'll see if the writers include it) lead to some interesting moral conversations about whether we have a right to manipulate other people's actions in order to shape them in a way that will benefit us in the future in order to bring something about correctly for something to occur. (In this case, getting Sylvie to agree to come back to the TVA in time to "help" Loki back to rescue Mobius and stop his time-slipping at the same time, when we see in the post-credits that she likely doesn't want to get mixed back up in this nonsense. She wants to live in a linear timeline, the way everyone else does, without worrying about being snatched away from her life again.)

The scene in the future right before Loki is pruned and saves Mobius is cut kind of weirdly to me. It makes me feel like how we would interpret that scene right now is not what is actually going on, and we will learn more about this scene as the season progresses (or in the finale). It was clearer to me on my second rewatch, but still kinda weird. How I interpreted it upon first watch wasn't even accurate. I thought Sylvie pruned him, but she's facing him and he was pruned from behind (I'm pretty sure). I wonder if himself or Mobius from the future found him and figured out what was going on. Maybe the three of them are looking for his past self in this scene and they know someone needs to get him back to episode 1 time, so whoever finds him in time can either give him the Timestick or prune him if he's past time.

I am a fool, and I am aware that I am a fool. But I'm choosing to still believe that we will get lokius this season. If for no other reason than Marvel has shown they don't have a fucking clue how queer identities work and don't care about doing research, and so will use it to be like "See? He's bisexual! He kissed a girl and then he kissed a boy!"

I'm calling it now, that boy at the counter in the McDonald's is Bill Cobb (the Third). (He already works at a diner in Broxton in the comics and falls in love with an Asgardian. Bill and this character are even both ginger! Bill's a little bulkier canonically, but that's neither here nor there.) I tried to see if I could read his name tag on both of my watches, because even with my first watch, my first thought was "Hey, I know you!" But I can't tell what it says. But if when Loki finds Sylvie and she hollers at "Bill" that she's going on her break, well, I told you so. Does he fall in love with Sylvie? Don't know, hope not, because I need her to kiss a girl in order to check off the Bingo square (I mean, I guess I don't actually know this character's pronouns yet, but Marvel's been a shit about trans characters so far, so I'm guessing this character uses he/him pronouns in canon.)

I am still in love with OB. I have come up with so many headcanons about him just off the top of my head. I won't state them all here but one is that he found out they kept wiping agents' memories, so he reverse engineered (I think that's the term) one of the devices they use for that and brought back all of his memories. But he likes doing what he does in the TVA, and no one comes down to see him so it never came up in conversation, so he's just never disclosed that he knows he's a variant. (I'm actually gonna talk about this theory more in a separate post because upon my second watch I THINK I'M RIGHT.)

I'm not sure we'll get it, but I want at some point in episode 2 for Mobius to question why they're immediately going after Sylvie. Like yeah, yeah, half the TVA is on her tail and she's important to Loki and she shouldn't be pruned again, but like B-15 is capable and the timeline is falling apart and we're not even really sure OB's plan worked yet, can't we take a breath first. And Loki just rounds on him and goes, She was in the future. She has to be there or I don't get back in time and you die. And Mobius just looks at him, and Loki's eyes are wide and wild and blazing with the same panic they were when he crash landed into the War Room from nowhere. And very quietly Mobius adds, "And so do you." There's a pause, and then Loki replies distractedly, "Right, yes, that, too. So can we go?" And this is the moment (or maybe another moment) where it just prods gently in Mobius's brain that Loki cares about him, might even feel the same.

Upon second viewing, Mobius doesn't just write "Skin", he writes "Skin?" The question mark makes it so much better! It changes from a lament to an internal debate, a debate he makes a decision on in the next moment. He chooses Loki.

9. So evidently Sylvie's canonically not a vegetarian. She doesn't enjoy roadkill, but she says she wants something dead, so meat isn't off the table for her.

10. When we get Sylvie again, I think it would make a funny reprieve from the stress if the b-plot of the episode was Sylvie subtly trying to get Loki and Mobius together and Mobius subtly trying to get Loki and Sylvie together and Loki is just clueless and confused why his two best friends are acting weird as fuck. A sitcom episode. I hate sitcoms, but I want a sitcom episode. Already. Oh, dear.

#loki #loki tv show #loki theories #loki season 2 #loki season 2 spoilers #sylvie laufeydottir #mobius m mobius #ob

6 notes · View notes

delicatefury · 2 years

Text

Hey.

Newbies.

Stop using #prev or #prev tags.

I can promise you 1. Nobody cares who the hell you reblogged from, 2. Nobody’s gonna bother trying to find out, and 3. Your followers will never know what the hell those tags were unless you tell them.

You like someone’s tags? Reuse ‘em. Or add’em to the body of your reblog. If anyone gets offended by that, they don’t belong on tumblr anyway.

#just a little rant #tumblr #prev #and #prev tags #are useless tags #they don’t belong here #I neither know nor care enough to figure out which tags you like #just reuse them #that’s why tumblr let’s you steal previous tags with no effort #you’re supposed to

35 notes · View notes

hwajin · 2 years

Text

[ 05:00 ] Bang Chan // nsfw

— gn!reader, lots of praise, excuse the quality of the pic

A long mewl of yours filled and echoed across the four walls of your darkened bedroom, the moon illuminating the quiet night, the faintest bit of silvern light breaking it's stubborn way through the half heartedly closed curtains. Admittedly - you must have looked pathetic in the moment, in the mess that you called your bed, sheets and pillows and limbs entangled in each other, nowhere near possible to make out clearance. Your skin was surely flushed, embarrassment painting you a darker color, and beats of sweat refelcted off your skin. Your lips were surely bruised, bitten and reddened, and the marks on your body would adorn you for a while longer, keeping a reminder of your sins. Yet, admittedly - you couldn't say you cared. Neither about the lewd noises that passed your swollen lips, nor your blistered skin, nor Chan's slightly teasing chuckle, just enough to get your mind to halter, thoughts to stumble. And he was being teasing with his actions, too. He restricted you off the pleasure he knew you wanted, knew you've been needing for a good while now. Instead, it were only his fingers that slid their way through your folds, elliciting sounds you couldn't help but shudder at, and the quick, faint curving of his digits wasn't near close enough to get you anywhere. If anything, it made you whinier, needier, more desperate for him with every movement. And he could tell, you knew he could.

It's all started so innocently, too. A quick message from your boyfriend - at a painfully late hour, but neither of you were sleeping - reassuring you he was fine, but he'd be home later than planned, which; you'd had expected.

Chan never failed to wrap you around his fingers. Maybe it was unintentional, maybe he ended up saying just the right words without his knowing. Or maybe he did know, was aware of exactly the things you'd want to hear roll off his tongue, in the sweetest tone. Nevertheless the intent, he's got you at your knees, at any time.

Your back arched against the man's chest, a softened moan - muffled by a pillow you had buried your face into - leaving your dried up lips, your brows scrunching together, creasing in the middle. Your surroundings and senses, any plausible thought circling your mind were as though sucked out of you with every passing second that Chan teased and touched you, or whispered sweet nothings against your ear, or let his soft lips dance across the sweetness of your skin. You were not more than a puddle in the man's hands, and both of you relished in the feeling of it.

You felt the pads of Chan's fingertips on your chin, his left hand caressing over your flushed face shortly before turning your head to him, out of the pillows. You felt exposed, which was an irony in itself considering the way you laid naked right under your boyfriend, not one cloth providing coverage. Yet, when Chan's eyes locked with yours, firey gaze exchanging, and you realized it was mere impossible to convert your eyes to anything else than his intense glare; the feeling of being so intimate, so vulnerable intensified by a dozen. A shy whine left your throat, and Chan's face turned into one of loving amusement in response.

"I want to hear you loud and clear baby, don't try to muffle your noises, hm?"

Another whine you couldn't hold back, and your mouth opened in reaction to the sudden change in angle the man worked inside you, his digits reaching deeper now, curving towards your spot. Chan didn't once retract his eyes off your figure, kept a glare at you as if he'd want to imprint you onto his mind forever. A moan left your lips, followed by a breathless gasp and your eyes shut close, your knuckles growing white with the intensity you gripped onto the edge of the mattress.

"Like that baby, you're doing so well. Let me hear those pretty sounds of yours."

tagging: @etherealeeknow @linoskitty @unexceptional-h @rseanne @diue @es-kay-zee @urcracksisx @jeyelleohe @yunkiwii @meloohmel @nyrasneedy @seochhj @chans-starlight

#bang chan smut #bang chan imagines #bang chan x reader #bang chan scenarios #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader

420 notes · View notes

kirain · 3 years

Text

I recently played Little Nightmares II and I LOVED it, but the ending utterly broke me. Dejected and looking for a place to vent my pain, I looked through the tags here on Tumblr, but to my surprise I found that people weren't only grieving -- they were angry. So many people are calling Six evil, a betrayer, a monster, and maybe there's some validity to that; she definitely has violent tendencies, but I think the ending is far more complicated than just a simple betrayal.

First and foremost, Six definitely liked Mono. I saw a few posts saying she never cared about him, but I don't think that's true at all. They bonded several times throughout the game and she trusted him implicitly, to the point that she reached for him when she was in danger and risked her life to save his. I read a few theories that suggest she betrayed Mono because when the Thin Man appeared, instead of trying to grab her hand to pull her to safety, he cowered and let her get taken. That could be true, but again, I think it goes deeper than that.

Incidentally, I also read a few arguments claiming she's evil because of how she acts, like breaking the bully with her bare hands, snapping the mannequin fingers, and warming herself by the pyre (which was morbidly hilarious), but I don't think these urges are her fault, much like the intense hunger isn't her fault. She didn't start having violent impulses until after the hunger consumed her, and we see that at the end of the game via her body language. She's ashamed.

So why did Six drop Mono? I have a few theories, but the strongest one seems the most obvious to me: Mono is the Thin Man. I read a few comments where people theorized he isn't the Thin Man who chases us, rather he becomes a replacement/successor. Personally, I find that hard to swallow, since the connection between Mono and the Thin Man is so discernable. For example, Six and the city folk couldn't connect to the TVs the same way Mono could. Mono was also the only one able to open the Thin Man's cell, he was the only one able to defeat him, and he figured out how to teleport through the TVs on his own. If that isn't enough evidence to convince you, there's also an achievement/trophy you can earn post-credits, where you literally put on the Thin Man's hat. Look at the description.

Then there's the subject of Mono's name. "Mono" can mean many things, but in English it generally connotes singularity, loneliness, one. When I first learned his name, I immediately thought it was wholly ironic, as he spends most of the game in Six's company. It also means (get ready for it) sound! To record or broadcast sound from a single direction. Now, this next part could just be me overreaching, but it's also used in words like "monochromatic", meaning a single wavelength of light or having only one colour. The Pale City and the TVs are entirely blue. Several shades of blue, but only blue.

Inside the Tower, the light turns ultraviolet, a colour caused by electromagnetic radiation that exists inside--you guessed it--old TVs! The colour ultraviolet has long since been associated with catastrophe, as the radiation is carcinogenic and even damages DNA if it comes into direct contact with skin. This could be why Six morphed into such a grotesque state, while Mono remained completely unharmed. Mono is the Thin Man. He has to be or he probably would've died in the Tower. This also explains why the Thin Man didn't kill Six outright, but instead locked her in a room full of toys. After all those years, he still considered Six a friend and he wanted her to be comfortable. In addition, the official character bio for the Thin Man lists his only alias as "Mono".

So why did Six drop Mono? Canonically (even if you change his hat), the first time Six sees Mono's face, really sees it, is during that moment on the collapsed bridge. She pauses, takes a good look, then lets him fall. I think she does so because she sees the similarities between Mono and the Thin Man. She realises what he's going to become, so to prevent that fate she lets him fall, presumably to his death. In a sense, she was trying to save him, and possibly the inhabitants of the city. The only question remaining is:

Did Six's actions cause a loop that inevitably lead to Mono becoming the Thin Man, or was it preordained and neither she nor Mono nor the player had any control over it? Maybe it didn't even start with Six. Maybe it did. We may never know, but I don't think her betrayal was vindictive.

#little nightmares #six #mono #theory #video games #tarsier studios #little nightmares 2 #little nightmares six #little nightmares mono #little nightmares II #the thin man

2K notes · View notes

lunar-wandering · 2 years

Text

alright- new AU time bitches lets go

tagging @winterpower98 cause i’ve been rambling about it to her for like the past could of days or so

so this is called the Fruit Smoothie AU

and basically,

starts off with Dragonfruit, ends with Chimerashipping

(also Shadowpeach is here too because I was struck with the funniest fucking idea ever and ran with it)

at the start of this AU, Mei is acting as a solo hero for the city (Hero name is Snapdragon)

Red Son falls in love with her the instant she beats him in a fight. takes him a lot longer so realize that though (DBK and PIF figure it out rather quick. “son why don’t you invite your.. friend over for dinner” “father why the fuck would i invite the hero over to my secret hideout” “....” “father. father look at me. father i do not like the hero”. and then, later, while he’s in the middle of working on a new invention, “oh shit i like the hero”)

Mei doesn’t really care about him that much at first- she’s kind of a “beat the bad guy, resolve the situation, call it a day” kind of hero at first

and then she and Red Son get trapped in an on fire building (not Red Son’s fault surprisingly. they still don’t know what caused the fire)

Red Son saves Mei from a piece of falling debris, and after making sure she gets out safe, teleports away, which makes her realize that oh. Red Son could’ve escaped on his own at any time. which is when Mei starts to develop feelings.

eventually, during one of their fights, another demon tries to kidnap Red Son, dragging him into the ocean. Mei follows, not really expecting that she’ll need to do much, but wanting to keep an eye on things.

only she finds that Red Son is struggling, and she realizes that oh, he can’t use his fire-

she summons her sword, cutting the ropes holding Red Son down, growls at the villain, her eyes glowing, energy crackling off of her- the villain backs down and leaves.

Mei has to give Red Son cpr

Mei actively refuses to let Red Son out of her sight for about a week after this, which is where most of their Bonding happens.

surprisingly enough, Red Son confesses first. he rambles it out nervously before turning and running away at top speed. Mei has to chase him and tackle him. “I’m not letting go of you- I’m worried you’ll run off to try and escape from your emotions again.”

anyways, thats the Main Start. fast forward like a few years or so, Mei and Red Son are both operating as heroes (Red Son’s hero name is Sunshine. Mei picked it for him.) while also running a food truck that mainly sells smoothies and cookies

one day, they hear news of a new vigilante hero on the block, reports only saying something about a flash of gold, no clear details otherwise.

so imagine their surprise when a person wearing a yellow hoodie and with a visor covering his eyes crashes into the back of their smoothie truck

he’s injured, and Red Son and Mei take him back to their apartment to help him. at first he won’t talk to them, or take off his visor, but after a few days..... he gives in, since he already knows their Secret Identities its “only fair” that they know his, and he takes off his visor and introduces himself as MK

(Red Son has like a momentary Bi Shutdown upon seeing MK’s eyes and Mei finds it incredibly hilarious)

what MK leaves out of his introduction however, is the fact that he is currently the Monkey King’s successor.

he comes up with some bullshit cover story of him being from a very reclusive demon family

(neither Mei nor Red Son fully believe this and have Many Theories about him)

Mei and Red Son latch onto him rather quick, making him their friend, even having him join their superhero group, and letting him work at the smoothie shop

.....well, he’s allowed to work at the smoothie stand with supervision. they kinda stopped trusting him after he broke his fourth blender in a row

since Mei and Red Son don’t initially know about MK being Wukong’s successor, it leads to moments like- Red Son: we need to figure out this guy’s weakness! MK, using his golden sight: there! above his elbow! Red Son, after the fight: how did you know his weak spot? MK: i can uh... see through glamours? Red Son: see through glamours huh....that sounds kind of familiar... MK: HA HA SURELY NOT I INHERITED THIS POWER FROM MY NOT WELL KNOWN DEMON FAMILY YOU PROBABLY NEVER HEARD OF IT-

when they eventually figure it out though, is when a fight starts going south, and MK is about to get hit, and neither Mei nor Red Son will make it in time- but the Monkey King suddenly arrives, stopping the attacking demon in it’s tracks MK: oh... hi dad Red Son and Mei: DAD???? Mei: THE MONKEY KING IS YOUR DAD??? MK: I mean.. he only adopted me like a week or so ago,,, i was his successor before that- Red Son: THE MONKEY KING IS YOUR D A D????

Red Son is literally shaking MK by the shoulders like “what the fuck, why didn’t you tell us this, what the fuck, this is important information-” while Mei is in the background letting Red Son handle the yelling and is taking pictures with a very confused Wukong.

anyways. on to a bit of the chimerashipping-

Red Son and Mei share a bed. Red Son literally screams into his pillow over how much he likes MK while Mei just lays beside him casually scrolling through her phone

Mei: i give you permission to date my boyfriend MK: wh- Mei: it’s called polyamory MK you get used to it. now here’s my 20 step plan on how you can woo Red- MK: how did you know I liked him

Red Son just absolutely SHOWERS the both of them in gifts like. its to the point its insanely ridiculous hdkfsjldfkdlf

NOW FOR MACAQUE

Macaque stops by the smoothie truck once after the Episode 9 incident and Red Son just throws a smoothie at him

however. post-shadow play.

Macaque needs somewhere to hide from LBD, and what better place to do that than with the heroes?

so he throws on a human glamour, shows up at the smoothie truck, and gets a part time job. (hey, they’ve gotta have someone running the truck when they’re out doing heroing stuff)

so of course. it’s just his luck that one day, when MK and the others are out doing their usual Hero Business, Wukong stops by in his human glamour-

Macaque spends like the first few minutes while taking Wukong’s order like “why the fuck is this guy so hot?” and then, while inputting things into the blender, the dots finally connect of “OH SHIT THATS WUKONG-”

Macaque pulls an MK and accidentally destroys the blender because he’s so flustered

MK and the others come back to an destroyed blender and an “Amaranthine” (Macaque went for the most dramatic cover name) that refuses to talk about it

things dont end there though

Wukong: y’know that clumsy guy that works part time at your smoothie truck is kinda cute MK, figured out that it was Macaque ages ago: *(chokes)*

MK spends a full minute just running mental calculations trying to figure out if Wukong knows it’s Macaque (spoiler alert, he does not)

MK sends Mei a text asking for help and gets back “THATS MACAQUE???” “oh shit i forgot you guys didn’t know-” “YOU LET US HIRE MACAQUE?” “hes becoming a better person now-” “YOU LET US HIRE MA C AQUE???”

Mei and Red Son had no clue he was Macaque hsfksjdlksdfjd. he very much gets threatened that day but is allowed to stay

Mei suggests MK try and set Macaque and Wukong up because holy shit, this is funnier than any kind of romcom she’s seen

they basically end up just repeatedly causing incidents for Wukong to end up at the smoothie truck while Macaque is running it

Macaque accidentally compliments Wukong during one of those interactions and Wukong literally breaks the cup he was holding on accident like- Wukong: heh, you’re pretty clumsy aren’t you Macaque: maybe i’d be a bit more coordinated if i didn’t have the literal definition of sunshine incarnate blinding me every day Wukong: a h

Macaque and Wukong kinda dance around each other like that for a while, until the kids decide they’ve Had Enough

MK: why don't you just confess to him?? you've been flirting for ages Macaque: because then i'd have to reveal its me and he might not like me anymore- Mei, MK, and Red Son believe that to be complete and utter bullshit MK even checks with Wukong like "yknow, if Macaque ever became a better person, would you have wanted to get back together with him?" and the answer was "yes as long as we talk things out first" so he knows it would go well

Red Son “accidentally” trips, pouring an ice cold smoothie down Macaque’s back, and Macaque is so startled by the temperature change his glamour vanishes

Wukong: Macaque???? Macaque: uh- yeah. hi? Wukong: i cant fucking believe this Macaque: yeah ill just leave- Wukong: no no you're staying here- im not that surprised i should've seen it coming that i'd fall for you again- Macaque: wh- Wukong: but im gonna have to talk to you later because right now i have three children that need to be reprimanded MK: guys i think we should run- Mei: good plan Red Son: yeah i agree- Wukong, picking all three of them up by the back of their clothes: where do you think you three are going? MK: we have a business to run and hero work to do- Wukong: that can wait.

Wukong makes them all have a smoothie drinking contest with him (he wins and the trio gets brainfreeze. Macaque watches this all go down with intense confusion)

the smoothie contest is partially a cover up for how flustered he feels. he was kinda hoping he’d get a brain freeze long enough to knock himself out for a couple of hours hdfkdlfjldkfd

...and that’s all i have thus far hdfksjlkdd fsd its mostly comedy but i dont care

#Monkie Kid #Fruit Smoothie AU #Dragonfruit #Chimerashipping #Shadowpeach #had to put under a keep reading cause it got kinda long #been offline mostly all day today cause ive been feeling bleh so this is my apology

354 notes · View notes

sadomas0chist · 3 years

Text

perfect strangers

MINORS DNI // 18+

part one; part two; part three

genre: nsfw

pairings: jean kirschtein x female reader

word count: 2.6k

tags/warnings: penetrative sex, dom jean, fingering, praising kink, slight body worship, dirty talk, sneaky.

synopsis: your recent discovery makes you certain that you won't be able to control yourself around him and neither will he, hence you decide that it was time to make an agreement that was rather spicy.

a.n: hey babies! so i finally decided to turn this into a short series since some of you were intrigued with the idea of having a continuation for the previous part i wrote. i hope you like it, enjoy <3

“How was I supposed to know?!” I yelled as soon as Jean exited our apartment. I had put on a random t-shirt to follow Connie to his room, trying to convince him that I had no idea that I fucked his best friend.

“Y/n he literally told you his name is Jean and he was attending my party. You’re acting as you’ve never seen him before!” he scolded taking off his shirt and throwing it across his room.

“Oh for fuck’s sake Connie. The last time I saw Jean I was 16 and he didn’t look like that. He’s so fucking different now how was I supposed to know. And to be fair, he was studying abroad for I don’t know how many years, how was I supposed to know that he metamorphosed like that.” I motioned my arm out, my other hand resting on my hip.

He groaned, rubbing his temples before he looked back at me. “Look,” he spoke softly. “I don’t want to fight with you over this okay? You’re right, I should’ve told you that he was coming back. He graduated a year ago and was considering coming back to his hometown, here. Let’s just forget it all happened okay? It’s a simple misunderstanding.” I nodded, resting my head on his chest as he embraced me into a tight hug.

“Now go take a shower you reek of sex.” he snickered earning a punch on his arm. He winced rubbing his flesh, a proud smile setting on my face.

***

The week went by smoothly. I told Sasha and Hitch what happened and they both had different reactions. Hitch was gushing over the sex and Sasha on the other hand confessed that she forgot to mention that Jean was coming back to stay here. It’s okay though. We all passed it and I was working my ass off to finally graduate.

Connie was spending his days with Jean, which granted me a lot of peace and tranquility. At least, that’s what I thought.

I hadn’t spoken to Jean ever since we hooked up, figured that Connie already explained the whole situation and moved on.

Three knocks on my door broke my focus, a loud frustrated sigh leaving my lips. “What Connie!”

“Actually,” a voice on the other side of the door caught me off guard. “It’s Kirschtein. Can I come in?” A knot formed in my throat.

“Sure.” he turned the knob, slowly coming in. “Connie knows I’m here by the way.” I nodded, adjusting my seat.

“What’s up?” the tension was awkward. The tension shouldn’t even be present in the first place. But how could I not get aroused when he was wearing a black tank top showing off the tattoos on his sleeves with a pair of sweats. He looked effortlessly attractive.

“- and like I said it will never happen again. Y/n?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, yeah. Never happen again. I’m very sorry but I need to finish this assignment.” He chuckled and nodded leaving me alone with my thoughts. Did I just make him talk to himself because I was too busy checking him out?

I shook my head, assuming that whatever he said wasn’t worth my time. Time went by rather quickly and the assignment was done earlier than I expected. It was already ten pm, and I had promised the girls I was going to meet up with them for some drinks.

I picked my outfit and applied some makeup. Simple and effective. We were going to spend the night at Sasha’s so I didn’t make much effort to look hot.

The place was empty when I left and I assumed that Connie was helping Jean to rent an apartment for himself.

Sasha’s place wasn’t very far from mine. As a matter of fact, it only took me ten minutes to get there. Once I got there, the girls were already ordering pizza and picking out some movies to watch.

“Hey whores.” I greeted them, earning cheers from Hitch and Sasha. “Oh my god, Mikasa I missed you!” I rushed to the dark-haired girl who was sitting on the couch and engulfed her into a tight hug. I haven’t seen Mikasa since I moved with Connie. We used to live together, but after she and Eren got together, he wouldn’t leave her alone. So I figured it would be best if I left and lived with my brother.

“I missed you too! I looked for you everywhere at that party where were you?” she asked taking a sip of her soda. Hitch began coughing dramatically as Sasha giggled next to her. “Oh quit it.” I teased rolling my eyes.

I ended up telling her everything, her face displaying a plethora of expressions. “I mean, Jean did change I can’t argue with that. But didn’t he recognize you?”

I shrugged. “I changed too. Puberty hit me like a truck.”

“Cheers to that.” Hitch raised her cup. We laughed and talked for hours. I missed going out with them like that. Fortunately, college will be over soon and I’ll have some time for myself.

Movies were playing in the background but we paid them no mind. We ate our food and cleaned the living room, not wanting to bother Sasha with the cleaning since she was having Niccolo over tomorrow.

I glanced at the clock that was hanging above the door. I gathered my stuff and tucked them in my bag, drawing all of their eyes on me.

“Already? Come on stay longer!” Sasha whined. I smiled softly at her and shook my head.

“I can’t, I’ll see you guys soon.” I waved at them and walked out of the door.

***

“Connie! I’m ho- what are you still doing here?” I froze at the entrance, my keys still hanging from my index finger, my eyes fixated on him as he only stood in basketball shorts.

“What do you mean what am I still doing here. I moved in here remember?”

Silence. Nothing but intense and awkward silence. Moved in? Since when?

“I told you when I came into your room. Weren’t you listening to me?” I stared at him blankly, not able to explain how caught in thought I was when he came into my room. I was too busy checking him out to care about what he was trying to tell me.

“Why didn’t Connie tell me?” I closed the door and locked it slowly, my legs feeling weak, the idea of living with him and seeing him walking around like that making me weak. And extremely horny.

“He said he’d rather if I told you. You know, break the ice.” he shrugged and walked forward, his chest now a few inches apart from mine. “You changed a lot from what I remember.” he lowly said tucking my hair behind my ear.

“So did you,” I replied, staring at his lips. He licked his bottom lip and held my chin between his fingers, forcing me to maintain eye contact.

I was a sweating mess. I still couldn’t believe that this was Jean, the horse face. What kind of water did he drink, and how did he get so big? Look at those muscles-

A sudden feeling on my lips interrupted my chain of thoughts. I soon realized that he held my bottom lip between his brown ones. “Kiss me back y/n, I know you want to,” he whispered, his breath brushing up my face.

It didn’t take me long to pull him to me, crashing my lips on his. He was intoxicating in ways I couldn’t understand nor explain. I needed him close to me at the moment and I didn’t care why.

“Yo, Jean where did you my video game?!” Connie’s voice boomed from the hallway, forcing us apart. Realization slapped my face when I looked at him and saw his cocky smirk. I just kissed him, even though I promised myself I’d never do anything with him ever again.

“I’ll get it!” he yelled back, the same expression resting on his face, his back facing the hallway. “I’d apologize, but you pulled me back. Anyway, I’ll see around beautiful.” he winked and began walking towards Connie’s room, his back muscles flexing at his movements.

What am I doing with myself?

***

The atmosphere felt nice. I couldn’t sleep so instead I lied down on my bed and watched the stars from my window. I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened hours ago and how I had to sit with them and pretend as nothing happened.

Jean was certainly not the little boy he was years ago. He got more confident and a lot more handsome. He was fucking with me and I thought, why shouldn’t I fuck with him too?

After all, I know for sure he didn’t tell Connie anything. He’s too protective of me and if he knew, well let’s just say Jean would be moving out by tomorrow. He trusts him blindly and I honestly just think he doesn’t want me to hook up with him again because he’s just like him.

He likes to mess around. Not the type to stay in the morning after. But neither was I. I sighed and dragged my legs out of bed, my body following.

“Shit now I gotta pee,” I whined stomping slightly on the wooden floor. I ruffled my hair with my hand and slipped on my slippers. I was wearing Connie’s t-shirt, so it was long enough to hide my thighs.

I walked to the bathroom when suddenly a hand grabbed my arm and yanked me into the guest bedroom. My mouth was quick to be silenced by another hand as I was about to squeal.

My back collided with the wall, my hands pinned on each side of my head.

“Jean let me go.” I struggled to get out of his grasp but he kept grinning at me. “Sure.” He let go of his grasp.

I looked around to notice a towel on his bed. “I was going to take a shower but then I heard your footsteps, couldn’t let you get there before I did.” He walked away, throwing his towel over his shoulder.

“Is that all?” I cocked my eyebrow, crossing my arms. He looked me up and down before saying: “You tell me. Need anything else?”

I looked at him briefly, calculating my next move. “An agreement. Connie can’t know.”

“Fuck yeah.” he dropped his towel and stepped closer to me, holding my face with his hands as he crashed his lips on mine. I kissed him back instantly, my fingers finding their way through his hair.

His tongue slipped in, caressing mine. His hands went down my body to squeeze my ass, pulling me even closer to him. My hands traveled across his bare chest, going over his pecs and then gliding one hand down his abs, while the other sat on his shoulder.

We pulled apart, his arms going under my thighs to pull me up and sit me onto the mattress. He walked to the door, locking it before he looked back at me.

Jean crawled over my body, caging me between his arms. “Divine.” he smiled and sat up, his hands tugging at my top. I helped him take it off and threw it on his chair. I was nude underneath him. It wasn’t the first time, yet he still looked mesmerized.

He licked his lips, his fingers tracing my cunt before dipping into my entrance. I arched my back at the sudden intrusion, trying my best to remain quiet.

“I missed your little cunt.” he chuckled massaging my insides slowly. I gasped, my hand immediately covering my mouth.

He rubbed my bud with his thumb, his pace never changing. It was torturing and slow, but I knew we couldn’t make a lot of noise nor make lots of movements that could awake Connie. We had to go nice and easy.

My legs squirmed, the combination of playing my nipples and watching him touch like he does driving me to the edge. My eyes rolled to the back as he added a third finger, my walls clenching tightly around them as I felt myself orgasm around them. “Good girl.” he praised with a chuckle, removing his fingers from my opening.

“Suck your juices off come on.” he tapped my hand, motioning me to remove it and take his fingers in. I stuck my tongue out, his ling digits finding their way down my throat making me slightly gag. “I didn’t know you were such an obedient girl.” he cooed, as I sucked off my arousal.

Jean sat back up, removing his shorts along with his briefs, his erection slapping on my lower stomach. “As much as I’d love you to suck me,” he paused pumping his cock. “I have to say that I miss being inside you.” And with that, he slid all the way in, his mouth silencing my moans.

He stayed still for a while, his eyes staring into mine intensely, almost as if he was trying to tell me something. I nodded my head, his hips moving at my signal. His thrusts were slow and deep, going over every spot. I wrapped my arms around him, my forehead resting against his, as he breathed heavily.

“I want to fuck you dumb, but he’ll hear your moans.” he taunted rolling his hips, his tip almost hitting my cervix. “So good.” I whimpered, wrapping my legs around him, my heels digging into his lower back.

“Jean…” I was close and my legs were a shaking mess. “That’s right baby, say my name.” he breathed in my ear, slightly speeding up his thrusts. I bit onto his shoulder, my orgasm ripping through my body.

I tightened around him, his strokes getting sloppier. It came to my attention that he wasn’t wearing protection, and I wasn’t about to get adventurous like last time. “Jean… pull out…”

“Beg.” was his only reply to which I complied. “Please, anywhere, just not-“ He harshly pulled out, and instead of jerking himself on my stomach, he reached up to straddle my chest and stroked himself. “Open.”

I stuck my tongue out, his hand now replaced with mine as I jerked him off, ropes of cum shooting down my throat. “Such a good girl.” he chuckled, rubbing his hand over his face.

He got off me and pulled his hair back using both hands, his naked body walking around the bed to grab some tissues. He cleaned off my arousal and handed me some to clean the corners of my lips.

“If only you could see how messed up you look,” he smirked and threw me my t-shirt before grabbing his towel and sliding on his shorts.

I put on my top and got off his bed. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and internally yelled at myself. I looked like a mess. My hair was tangled and my skin was all sweaty. Guess I have to take a shower too.

I looked over at Jean to see him staring at me with an amused look on his face. “What?” I cocked my eyebrow. He shrugged and smiled at me. “Connie and I are going out to get some lunch tomorrow. What’d you say?” he requested.

“I mean yeah sure. But Jean he can-“

“Can’t know alright.” he rolled his eyes. We stared at each other for a minute before I decided to leave his room.

As I made my way past him, his hand flew to cup my swollen cunt. “This belongs to me.”

#jean kirschtein fanfiction #jean x reader smut #jean x you #jean kirschtein smut #jean kirschtein imagine #jean kirschtein x reader #jean x reader #jean kirschtien #jean kirstein #jean smut #aot requests #aot x reader smut #aot x reader #aot fandom #aot smut #snk smut #snk imagines #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction

325 notes · View notes

jaskiersvalley · 3 years

Text

Witchers didn't have daemons, that was a known fact. They were terrifying in their solitude, unfeeling and unaffected. Monsters made to fight monsters, they didn't need part of their soul for that. What the general public didn't know though was that the daemons weren't imprisoned somewhere, nor were they dead. The mages had figured out a way to separate daemon from child and force it into the most unnatural of shapes, another human. It meant two Witchers from a single child and the best part was, neither child nor daemon felt any connection to their counterpart once the process of the trials was complete.

In an effort to make sure full separation was certain and not even a sentimental link remained, daemons and children were separated and trained in different schools. Lambert had arrived at Kaer Morhen, still tripping over unfamiliar human feet and seething at being separated from his human. Over the years he tried to remember his human but, like all Witchers, they were given new names when they got their medallions and Lambert didn't think Luca still went by that name, nor would he be the scrawny kid Lambert remembered him as.

Whenever Lambert met another Witcher, he couldn't help but wonder whether it was his Luca that he was meeting. Though he wanted to believe that there would be a spark some kind of recognition there. He had been a little relieved when he met Letho and there was nothing there between them.

Of course Geralt had to be the first one to find his daemon. The smug bastard had found a bard who told people his daemon was a flea which was just like him; unnoticeable until he causes a nuisance. Most pitied him but Geralt had seen through the charade. He watched the bard without a daemon, curiosity and caution allowed him to permit Jaskier to tag along. The story tumbled out eventually.

"My great grandparents bought me. I was some kind of freak novelty some merchants were selling."

That was all Geralt had needed to hear and he was all but dragging Jaskier back to Kaer Morhen in the winter. Nobody had expected Vesemir's face to close off completely.

"I remember you!" Jaskier said in way of greeting. "You were a dick."

"Julian." The reply was terse and tight.

Lambert got a front view seat to seeing Geralt's face flit through more emotions in one second than he usually did in a whole year. The embrace was tight, Geralt's nose buried in Jaskier's hair.

Jealousy trickled through Lambert's veins. For all he knew, his human was already a dead Witcher. There was no link between Witcher and daemon, the trials severed it all completely so when one died, the other didn't even notice, let alone die from it.

"Why isn't he a Witcher?" Eskel asked, eyes glued to the happy reunion.

"Kaer Morhen needed money. Your cohort, the daemons didn't become Witchers. We sold them to the highest bigger."

Lambert didn't expect Eskel to punch Vesemir across the jaw but he was sure as shit glad he saw it. It meant he didn't need to do it on behalf of Geralt and Eskel. For the first time though, Lambert had an optimistic thought.

"It might mean he's living a happy life somewhere. I mean, look at Jaskier. He's had it better than us."

That was a topic that came up repeatedly over the next few weeks. They dreamed up all sorts of fancy lives Eskel's daemon could have lived, the wonders he would have seen. Through it all, Lambert bitterly wished his daemon could have been anything but a Witcher. Alas, Vesemir rapidly disillusioned him from that idea.

"He's become a Witcher, probably dead by now. And if you met him, you'd probably wish he was."

"Is that so?" Lambert drawled, emptying his tankard with a disappointed sigh. He couldn't believe it was empty again.

"You suffered the same shit fate I did. Your human was trained by Cats. Guxart turned into an utter dick."

The words were muttered darkly and Lambert tried not to take it to heart how much hatred Vesemir oozed. It made him all that much more determined to not go the same way as the bitter old man. Instead, he turned to Geralt with a leer. "So, is it gay or is it masturbation to want to get off with your own daemon?"

To say the table erupted in uproar was an understatement. Geralt was scowling somewhat fierce, arms crossed over his chest in protest. It only egged Lambert on further.

"I think it's incest," he declared with a shit eating grin. "Technically it's part of your family because you have the same parents."

"It's masturbation at most." Geralt was growling and glowering. "Because the daemon was still part of you."

Through it all, Eskel stayed rather quiet. It was only when the other two looked to him for opinion that he leaned forward, propping himself up on the table with a serious crease to his brows.

"I think-" the words were low and measured, "-that as long as everyone involved consents, it's fucking hot is what it is."

"The only thing it is," Vesemir finally butted in, "is a disaster waiting to happen. You don't want to meet your counterparts. Trust me."

Except that only made Lambert all the more keen. He wanted to both prove Vesemir wrong and also have what Geralt and Jaskier seemed to be hurtling towards. So, come spring, he set out with the intent of fulfilling one contract only. It was one that he would pay himself for in emotional fulfilment. He was going to find every Cat he could until he found Luca.

He met Gaetan along his travels who laughed in his face and said he was much more into snakes than wolves. That was an encounter Lambert was more than eager to cut short because he did not want to think about how Letho and Gaetan were oddly complementary. It was also another jolt of bitter jealousy, another Witcher and daemon had been reunited while he was still out there looking for his own. Assuming Luca had survived.

Meeting Guxart was a bit of an accident and Lambert wished he'd not encountered the old Cat. He growled and hissed about his stupid daemon who would probably have turned into a useless pigeon if left alone. There was obviously no love lost between them and Lambert desperately hoped he wasn't going to have the same fate.

Third time lucky, as the saying went. Lambert had trailed the new Cat for a few days, learning his habits and watching him work. There was no ounce of recognition or familiarity. But then again, the last time Lambert saw Luca, they were being dragged away from each other, foreign hands on his rapidly shifting body so his eyes could barely adjust enough to see the screaming, tear filled face of his human. It was quite possibly the worst last image he could have had of Luca.

Satisfied that the Cat wasn't someone Lambert wouldn't want to associate with, he approached in the evening when the campfire was still bright but slowly settling.

"I was wondering when my shadow would make himself known," the Cat said easily enough, barely glancing up from where he was whittling something.

The last two times Lambert had tried to be careful with exploring the idea of the Cat Witcher being his human. He was tired and cut straight to the point.

"Luca?"

By the fire the man froze. It was only luck that meant Lambert could hear the shuddering exhales of someone trying to keep up the façade of calm and collected. Finally, the man set his carving aside and stood with an easy smile that felt like a thousand lies.

"I go by Aiden." It wasn't a reply and Lambert knew it.

"I don't remember my name," he admitted softly, desperately hoping he wasn't about to make an utter tit of himself. "People call me Lambert. But I'm looking for my Luca."

He didn't expect to suddenly have an armful of Witcher clinging to him like their very lives depended on it.

"It's really you!" Aiden sounded close to tears. "You never did have a single name, usually going by Idiot, Pain In The Butt, Menace and so many other equally flattering names."

"Guess that never changed," Lambert laughed wetly. He held Aiden close, wishing he could feel as he used to when they were connected. "We have a lot of catching up to do."

It was just that start of something Lambert never thought he'd have. Easy companionship, shared disdain for the whole Witcher thing, stories upon stories of contracts gone well, gone wrong, or just plain gone. By the time winter rolled round, Lambert was firmly of the opinion that he and Aiden would travel together, fuck the Path and all the teachings about it being lonely. If Geralt could have his bard then they sure as hell could have each other.

Getting to Kaer Morhen, Lambert gleefully had an arm slung around Aiden's shoulder, introducing him to the rest of his family. He especially delighted in the flaring of Vesemir's nostrils as he took in the situation.

"Cats and Wolves don't mix. You of all people should know that."

"And you should know it's my life's mission to prove you wrong, old man," Lambert shot back.

Perhaps the most curious part of the whole winter was that Geralt was already back with not one, but two guests. Jaskier was a known quantity and Lambert greeted him warmly. The other though was a near silent man who watched them through eyes that looked way too old for his body.

"This is Cahir," Geralt said when the man didn't even introduce himself. "We'd heard rumours of a Nilfgaardian without a daemon and went to investigate."

"Not a Nilfgaardian," Cahir grumbled with a half-hearted glare.

It took Lambert a moment to figure out just why Geralt would bring such a man back before his eyes widened in delighted realisation.

"You think that-"

"Mhm."

That was the extent of their conversation because Lambert was cackling in delight. He looked Cahir over with a newfound interest. Young, like Jaskier but so very different in behaviour. As much as they'd wondered about Eskel's daemon's fate, this wasn't one they'd predicted.

Three days later Eskel was leading Scorpion into Kaer Morhen's courtyard. Lambert and Aiden were all but bouncing with excitement, not wanting to miss the moment Eskel met his daemon. In their opinion Geralt was drawing things out and making it less fun by not having them all meet in the stables. Instead, Eskel was allowed to venture into the kitchen in the company of Lambert and Aiden who were vibrating in anticipation.

"Eskel," Geralt greeted him with a warm hug. Jaskier and Cahir were behind him, even Vesemir had ventured out to see what the outcome would be. "It's good to have you home. Allow me to introduce you to Cahir."

The two looked at each other with guarded gazes and Eskel gave a terse nod. It was as anticlimactic as fuck. No recognition, not interest, nothing. Just a slow once over which, if Lambert had thought about it, was pretty much a mirror image of each other, equally considering and closed off.

Despondent, he dragged Aiden off, helping lay the table for a shared meal. Vesemir was quick to follow, there was no way to tell whether he was disappointed or relieved by the lack of drama. Geralt and Jaskier wandered out, oddly deflated. Not two seconds later there was an almighty crash from the kitchen and they were all racing back. Only to turn right around and flee after a glimpse of Cahir pinning Eskel to a wall and kissing him like Eskel was the last gasp of air for a drowning man.

"So, are they?" Jaskier asked, glancing towards the kitchen. Something else crashed and thumped but it was best not to investigate.

After a moment it was Vesemir who tiredly said, "Does it matter? It doesn't seem like they much care."

All in all, Lambert didn't think he cared either. Cahir and Eskel seemed happy enough in their new acquaintanceship, trying to figure out their past could wait, if they even wanted to explore it. Though Lambert had a hard time imagining Cahir as a goat. Over the years he'd heard Eskel lament enough about how his daemon preferred to take the form of a goat.

Regret came the next morning at breakfast when Eskel and Cahir appeared at the table, seemingly indifferent. If the rest of them hadn't see the two almost violently making out in the kitchen before disappearing to a bedroom, they wouldn't have guessed anything had gone on between them.

"Hey Geralt," Eskel called, face passive. "You know the difference between a goldfish and a mountain goat?"

"A mountain goat could live in Kaer Morhen but a goldfish couldn't?"

Eskel rolled his eyes. "No, a goldfish mucks around a fountain."

"And a mountain goat fucks around a mountain," Cahir finished the joke. He and Eskel high fived without looking at each other. Lambert only smacked his head on the table when Cahir continued, "And I am no goldfish."

#geraskier #lambden #eskhir #geralt/jaskier #lambert/aiden #eskel/cahir #unhappy vesemir/guxart #geralt of rivia #jaskier #lambert #aiden #eskel #cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach #vesemir #daemon au #tldr: witchers' daemons are humans when the connection between them is severed

339 notes · View notes

sorryimanon · 3 years

Text

Pairings: Bakugou x fem!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!"

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

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

"This is freaking weird."

"Fucking."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N flinched from hearing the blondes name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Kirishima?"

"Yeah?"

"What is Bakugou like around you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bakugou is always putting up a front then.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit shit shit shit

The hand in front of him began shaking.

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

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

I just felt her fucking nipple!

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

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

"Hah!"

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

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

I practically assaulted her. I'm so fucking disgusting

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kacchan owns cardigans? He thought, clearly amused.

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

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

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

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

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

I hate lying to those big freaking green eyes.

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

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

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

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

This piqued her interest.

"What do you mean by, taboo?"

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

Her eyes popped out from her sockets.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another acute ding.

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

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

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

Ding Ding Ding

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"F-Fuck you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Make. Me. Cum

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

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

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

"Cum then baby. Cum for me only."

Baby

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

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

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

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

Silence. Then the realization hit.

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

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

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

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

He hummed in agreement.

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

Another grunt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No," his fingers were ironically cold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Caramel and soap

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Smack!

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

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

Smack! Smack!

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

More whimpers into the tear stained pillow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

812 notes · View notes

snelbz · 3 years

Text

Life As We Know It {Chapter 9}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby’s blogs! >> @snelbz

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

A/N: SURPRISE. Enjoy this chapter a day early. I had my days wrong and legit thought it was Thursday, but since it was ready…. Y’all get to enjoy the spoils of my frazzled brain. 😘

Nesta waited with Nyx in the waiting room of the pediatric office.

His rash didn’t seem to be bothering him much, but she wanted to get ahead of it before it became a problem. He was absolutely enamored with the TV playing a bright children’s show in the corner, and Nesta couldn’t help but smile down at him as she checked her email.

The usual stuff greeted her, some open catering order invoices for the restaurant, a few wayward resumes from high school kids that had managed to get her personal email, and, of course, spam.

“Nyx?”

Nesta’s head shot up, and Nyx began looking around, wondering who had called his name. Nesta was instantly on her feet, pushing Nyx’s stroller toward the door that the nurse held open.

She smiled. “Hello, Nyx.”

Nyx babbled in greeting.

The nurse chuckled. “Such a cute little guy. You’re Nesta, I assume?”

“I am,” Nesta confirmed. “I’ve not been here before. It’s a nice office.”

The small talk went on. Nesta had never been a fan of small talk, of polite pleasantries.

It just made her feel awkward.

Nyx didn’t seem to mind. He just kept babbling and babbling and babbling, without a care in the world.

The nurse led them into a room and she checked Nyx’s height and weight before telling them that the doctor would be there shortly.

Nesta had picked Nyx up, looking around at all the educational posters on the walls, when a quick knock sounded on the door and a man cracked open the door.

Nesta blinked once as he stepped inside, not expecting the tall, muscled man that appeared in front of her.

“You must be Nesta,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Dr. Kamaras.”

This man was Nyx’s pediatrician? She had known that Nyx’s doctor was male, Feyre had mentioned him in some stories a few times, but Nesta had always pictured an elderly man.

Not this sculpted, handsome man, who could easily graced the cover of one of the ridiculous smutty books she kept well hidden in her bedroom.

She shook his hand, finally remembering how to speak. “Yes, I am, it’s nice to meet you.”

Very nice to meet you, she added in her head.

His face sombered. “I was very sorry to hear about Rhys and Feyre. They were great people.”

And just like that, Nesta was back on earth, holding her sister’s son in her arms, standing where her sister should have been. She tried to keep her smiling from dimming, but she cleared her throat. “Thank you. It’s…been an adjustment.”

As if they both remembered why they were here, Dr. Karamas blinked and said, “Yes, Nyx, right. You told the nurse he has a rash of some sort?”

“It’s just a diaper rash but it seems to be getting infected,” Nesta explained. “I’ve tried a few different things but nothing seems to be working.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding. “Well, let’s take a look.”

Dr. Karamas took one glance and whistled. “Definitely infected. I’m going to give you a steroid cream. Put it on after every diaper change. It should clear up within the week.”

Nesta let loose a breath. “Oh, great, thank you.”

“Absolutely,” he smiled.

He had a nice smile.

He scribbled something down on his clipboard, signed it, and handed it to Nesta. “The number on the bottom is my office number. If you have any other concerns, no matter how small, give it a call.”

Nesta looked at Nyx’s prescription and the number that was beneath it, along with his name.

Balthazar Karamas.

“Thank you, Dr. Karamas,” Nesta said, and she meant it. She was still new at this, and every little medical thing concerned her.

If it wasn’t normal, she was freaking the fuck out.

“Bal, please,” he said, taking her hand again, shaking it. At the look on her face, he added, “I work with kids. They do better on a familiar name basis than with titles like doctor and mister.”

She nodded, smiling. “Bal, then.”

Nesta was getting Nyx resituated in his stroller in the waiting room, about to head back out into the bright sunlight, when she felt someone approach. She wasn’t expecting to find Balthazar standing a few feet away. She quickly checked the stroller, making sure she had her purse, the diaper bag, and, of course, Nyx himself. “Did I forget something?” She asked, finding everything exactly where it was supposed to be.

“No, no, it’s not that,” he said, pausing in front of her. “I just…can’t shake the feeling that I know you from somewhere.”

It was strange, since Nesta felt the same way.

“You’re not Illyrian,” he said, and it wasn’t a question, nor was it rude. Just an assumption. She only knew of a few other Illyrians in the area, and Balthazar definitely had the same coloring as Cassian and Az. And Rhys used to have. She, pale skinned and blue eyed, certainly did not.

“I’m not,” she said, at last.

Bal chuckled.

That smile, yet again, had her toes curling.

“Interesting,” he said, that smile remaining. “Well, maybe we can figure out just where we’ve run into each other before...over lunch this weekend?”

Nesta blinked. A date?

“Not a date,” he said, quickly, reading her mind. “I would never ask the aunt of my patient on a date. That would be incredibly unprofessional.” Nesta laughed. “Just…two acquaintances figuring out where they were previously acquainted.”

“Lunch sounds nice,” Nesta said, unable to shake her own smile. “Saturday, then?”

“Saturday,” Bal agreed.

They set up a time and place and then Nesta was out the door.

Cassian’s day had been as long as it was the day before. It seemed that the teenagers visiting Velaris had gotten the message from their friends that Cassian’s bar was checking every single ID of every single drink that was ordered. So instead of being slammed and busy and frustrated the whole day, he had been bored out of his mind.

He’d gone through his inventory sheets twice, ordering anything they might remotely run out of in the next few weeks.

It didn’t help that Kallias had the day off, covering the evening shift tonight, leaving him alone with his thoughts all day.

And those thoughts constantly reminded him that he’d been an absolute dick to Nesta the night before.

As he drove home, he contemplated the apology he needed to make.

Although Cassian believed his intentions were typically good, apologizing wasn’t one of his strengths. He ran through what he’d say a hundred times, had come up with an unbearable amount of ways in which he could apologize, but everything he thought of wasn’t good enough.

He knew Nesta well enough to know when she would laugh in his face.

He’d come up with about fifteen different scenarios of how this could go by the time he pulled into the driveway, parking next to her little car. He took a deep breath before unlocking the front door and letting himself in.

The house was quiet, neither Nesta or Nyx were anywhere to be found. It was barely six-thirty, but he knew Nesta was taking Nyx to the doctor earlier in the day, which may have tired him out so thoroughly that he was already down for the night. A peek into his cracked bedroom door confirmed it, his little hand curled next his face as he slept.

When he finally tracked down Nesta, on the back patio, her feet propped up in a lounge chair, he definitely hadn’t expected to find her with a bottle of wine. Or what was left of it, at least.

The mostly empty bottle of wine sat next to the baby monitor.

He cleared his throat, announcing his presence.

Nesta’s sigh was the only acknowledgement she showed.

“Everything alright?” He asked.

She shrugged and took a sip from her glass.

“Bad day?” He continued.

She shrugged again.

“Is this the silent treatment?” He asked.

“I assume you’d know,” she said.

Cassian began rubbing his temples. “Look, Nesta-.”

“I’m a little busy if you don’t mind,” she continued. “I prefer to relax alone.”

“This is my house, too,” he said, shutting the sliding door behind him as he made his way onto the patio. “What if I want to sit out here with you?”

“Then I’d suggest continuing the silence,” she said, not looking at him, her face tilting back up to the sky, where it had been when he’d come outside.

So he sat down on a nearby lounge chair, and didn’t say a word.

Or he tried, but he didn’t last five minutes. The words that had building inside him all day needed to come out. He’d rehearsed different things he wanted to say, with reasons for why he was such an asshole, and promises to try and be better from now on. But as he looked over at her, the starlight on her face, all he could get out was, “I’m sorry.”

For a moment, Nesta said nothing. “About?”

“The way I acted last night,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the lawn. “It was uncalled for, and I’m sorry.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, draining her glass.

Cassian’s eyes shot her direction. “I’m trying to apologize. You can at least accept my apology so we can move on.”

“Apologies mean nothing,” Nesta said, shrugging. “Words are meaningless.”

“Not mine,” Cassian argued. “I mean what I say.”

“Then you meant what you said last night?” Nesta pushed.

Cassian’s lips snapped shut and his jaw hardened. “No.”

“So, you’re a liar, then?” Nesta asked.

He groaned in frustration. “You’re infuriating.”

She didn’t deign to reply to that.

He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I was an asshole last night. I was…embarrassed about how you found me the night before. I don’t… I don’t like to be seen like that.” He paused, but then he held a hand out in between them. “Not- not that that happens often. I mean, I don’t make a habit of having emotional breakdowns.”

She didn’t say anything. Just stared at him.

He cleared his throat again, remembering little things he had felt badly about through the day. “Nesta, I’m sorry I acted like an ass. I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate the dinner you made me. I was rude as hell and you did nothing to deserve it.”

After a second, she glanced away, out over the pool. He figured she wasn’t going to reply, and he stood, heading back for the back door.

He had slid the door open and was halfway inside when she said, “If you’re hungry, I made lasagna for dinner. It should still be warm on the stove.”

He turned back and found a hint of a smile on her face. “Thanks, Nes.”

A continuation of his apology, Cassian had told Nesta he'd be on baby duty for the rest of the night, waking Nyx up for his bottle, granting her leave to do whatever she wanted. She elected to finish off the bottle of wine, open another, and relax in the bathtub with a book.

The book of choice was definitely not appropriate to read in front of Nyx.

Or Cassian, for that matter.

She had appreciated his apology, even though a part of her still wanted to be pissed. There were very few things that agitated her more than male bravado, and Cassian was the spitting image of it. Embarrassed because he was emotional? Please. Get the fuck over it.

Then again, she could say that all day, but in honesty, if the positions were reversed, she would have reacted very, very similarly.

If not worse.

Nesta had always felt too much, far more than either of her sisters. It wasn’t like they were robots, of course. Elain had a bigger heart than anyone Nesta had ever known, and Feyre had been a light to be around.

But, Nesta…

She felt it all, and she felt it far too deeply. She had learned long ago to shut those emotions off, to let them go, to not let her emotions show. They could just be used as a weakness.

And she found life worked better that way.

There was a soft knock on the bathroom door.

Nesta sat up straight, even though the door was locked, in a sudden panic over the fact that she was nude and reading smut.

“Yeah?”

“Nyx is going to bed,” he said. “Just thought you’d want to say goodnight.”

“I- Ah- Just a minute,” she called, setting the book down and reaching down to grab for her towel. She was out and damn near opened the door in just her towel again, but remembered their agreed upon rules. She snatched her robe, wrapping it around herself, towel and all.

She opened the door, Cassian standing just by her bed, and Nyx had his head resting on his shoulder, rubbing his little eyes.

The image was so pure and innocent that Nesta couldn’t stop herself from taking a few steps towards them, reaching out to brush her fingers down Nyx’s soft cheek. “Sweet dreams, buddy,” she breathed, leaning up to press a kiss to his forehead.

She regretted it almost immediately, as bringing herself that close in Nyx also inadvertently brought her to Cassian. His heady, nutmeg-and-campfire scent enveloping her, reminding her of the morning she’d come downstairs and found him as naked as she was now. She stepped back quickly, clearing her throat. “And goodnight to you, Cassian,” she murmured. She pointed back behind her towards the bathtub, towards her book, and said, “I’m going to read a little longer and then go to bed myself.”

He nodded. “Alright, I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Nes.”

The nickname didn’t bother her as much as it previously had, she realized as he made his way back out of her room, shutting the door behind him.

She didn’t let herself think about that, did her best not to think about him, as she sunk back into the warm water.

Nyx had gone down easily for Cassian, for the first time ever, thanks to the frozen toy he’d gnawed on to relieve the pain of his incoming tooth. He’d decided he deserved a treat, too, after that, and had sat down to watch the hockey game, a beer in hand.

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at the front door.

Cassian paused, glancing down at his watch, seeing that it was pushing nine o’clock. He stood, after a second knock sounded, making his way to the door. He opened it to find a woman dressed in a suit on the other side. “Can I help you?”

“Mr. Nazari, I assume?” She asked, extending her hand.

He took it, on instinct, shaking it, but he blinked. He repeated, “Yeah… Can I help you?”

Her brows twitched together. “My name is Alis Birch. I’m with social services.”

Cassian continued to shake her hand, staring.

“The courts told you we’d be making random visits to check in on Nyx,” she continued.

Oh, fuck, Cassian thought. Oh, fucking hell.

They’d completely forgotten about those random visits, in the past few weeks they’d been doing this, distracted by getting used to not only being parents, but getting used to each other as well.

“I see,” Cassian said, nodding. “I… I’ll…be right back.”

“I’d like to come in-.”

Cassian shut the door, quickly set his beer on the table in the entryway, and hauled ass upstairs.

He threw open the door to Nesta’s bedroom, only to found it empty, so he continued on, throwing open the bathroom door.

Where Nesta was still in the tub, completely nude, a book in hand, one hand disappeared beneath the water. Her head was thrown back in utter ecstasy.

Until Cassian barged in, anyway.

“Shit!” he yelled, just as Nesta gasped and sent the water sloshing out of the tub, over the porcelain edges.

Cassian quickly shut the door behind him, closing them into the bathroom together, and put his face in his hands. “Sorry!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she yelled, and he could hear her pulling the plug.

“It’s important, I swear,” he said, his voice muffled by his hands.

“If the house isn’t on fire or Nyx isn’t dying, it’s not important,” she cried, ducking behind the walls of the tub.

“It’s pretty fucking important,” he said, turning to give her a semblance of privacy. He heard her stand up, water moving and quiet dripping, before her feet landed on the rug outside the tub. “The social worker is here.”

She froze and he dared a look back at her. Thankfully, she was wrapped in her towel again, one arm pushed through her robe. “The social worker is here? Now?” He nodded, and she looked at the nearly empty bottle of wine next to the glass on the small table by the tub. It was the second one she’d had that night. “But it’s late,” she protested.

“It’s a random, surprise visit,” he replied. “I left her outside, but-.”

“You didn’t let her in?” Nesta demanded, eyes widening. “Cauldron, Cass, that makes us look so guilty.”

He blinked. “Of what?”

“I don’t know,” she said, throwing her hands in the air. “But it doesn’t make us look good.”

“Well, I didn’t know what to do,” he sighed, exasperatedly. “I sure as hell wasn’t expecting to come up here and find you doing that.” He gestured to the tub.

Nesta’s cheeks heated. He figured his own were going to permanently be the shade of red they were now.

No, that was the last thing he ever expected to catch Nesta doing.

“Just… Go let her in and stall her while I get dressed,” she sighed, crossing her arms, waiting for him to leave.

Cassian hesitated, then nodded, and hurried back down the stairs. When he reopened the front door, Alis Birch stood there. Her expression was hard, intimidating.

Cassian could feel himself sweat.

He prayed that Nesta somehow sobered up and got the fuck downstairs, because there was no way in hell he could do this without her.

#snacmc lawki #life as we know it #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #snelbz tacmc collab #snacmc

202 notes · View notes

strawwritesfic · 3 years

Text

Loki Laufeyson x Female!Midgardian!Reader: A Bird in the Hand

Summary: …is surely not worth its asking price.

Rating/Warnings/Tags: All (some foul language; not Thor Ragnarok compliant)

Fic Trade Prompt: “Please, I don’t want to lose you, too.”

A Bird in the Hand

Once upon a time in a realm known as Midgard, there lived a girl. This girl, of course, was you, and you lived as many young women at the time did during that Age of Miracles. None of these miracles ever happened to you. There were no fish oil transformations on your horizon, nor were there any divine calls to adventure. Just like all New Yorkers, you grew use to your daily commute being interrupted by superheroes, to calling insurance companies to argue over their decision to not pay for alien invasion damage to your apartment, and even to carrying an umbrella around with you even on the driest of days in case certain Asgardians decided to visit. Life went on. You had stopped looking for a real miracle years ago.

As well you should have, because there was nothing miraculous about your wedding day. Outside, a seemingly endless mass of dark gray clouds let loose bucket after bucket of rain. Thunder rolled across the sky; lightning flashed–and that, really, was all you could see through the window you had stationed yourself in front of to sulk. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d have blamed the city’s resident thunder god for the disastrous timing of this storm front. As it was, all you could blame was your string of bad luck.

Speaking of bad luck, the door to your parlor snapped open and in stepped the dripping figure of your best friend. Aliyah paused only long enough to adjust her sodden pink hijab before plopping soggily onto an overstuffed loveseat.

“Well, the gazebo is flooded,” she announced, “the food is soaked through, and the caterer won’t bring more to replace it. Your flower arrangements are in pieces, and the band already ran off. I don’t think there’s anything left of your wedding ceremony.”

You did not bother to leave the window, though you did turn just far enough to throw her a sour look. “Do you have any good news to impart?” you asked.

Aliyah grinned. “Your maid of honor hasn’t walked out yet. At least there will be one person here to witness this fiasco.”

“Gonna need a groom for anything to be witnessed.”

Most close friends would offer sympathy when their friend’s fiancé of a year and a half decided to just not show up for the actual wedding. Most acquaintances would feel bad enough when the carefully planned event got rained out. Not your Aliyah. She simply let out a sharp breath and leaned her head back against the couch cushion.

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said.

You glared at her, which of course she didn’t see, having shut her eyes to listen to the water tumble from the roof to the street outside.

“Thank you. So much,” you said.

“What?” she asked, forcing her eyes open again. “I told you Jared wasn’t good enough for you. Besides, you should keep all the gifts even if he doesn’t stop by. I saw, like, nine blenders in that pile. You’re better off this way, if you ask me.”

“You’re just saying that because you want a free blender,” you said.

“I wouldn’t say no. But, really, you should count your lucky stars. Free stuff and free of your jackass boyfriend. What better start to a weekend?”

“I’d rather be married to my jackass boyfriend.”

Aliyah’s disdain for Jared was nothing new or surprising. He’d fallen from grace in her eyes when he’d got jealous over your fondness for an injured pigeon you’d rescued only a few months after you started dating Jared. Even releasing the bird hadn’t entirely put an end to his complaints about how you spent your free time. On the other hand, you knew one thing that neither Aliyah nor Jared did: Jared’s jealousy wasn’t entirely misplaced.

But that was years ago. This was now. And that bird had always been bad news.

“Are you going to cry about it?” Aliyah asked, peering over at your perch by the parlor’s bay window. “Because, if not, I’d hate to have dragged Habib all the way to America for nothing.”

At the mention of her long-distance boyfriend, you motioned for Aliyah to go on. You preferred to do your moping alone, and Aliyah knew it. She stood and crossed the room to give you a quick hug before she left without another word. Probably you did owe your maid of honor at a least a blender for all the trouble she’d been through on your behalf.

Sighing, you lifted one hand, dug your fingers into your hair, and tore out what was holding it in its elaborate design. Who cared what you looked like now? Even if stupid Jared had shown up, the storm would have ruined your appearance before you made it down the aisle. Now Aliyah had free rein to spend the rest of her afternoon cuddling with Habib, and you had no one else to bother looking pretty for.

Outside your empty room, you could hear the indistinct muttering of your remaining guests. Family, mostly, who had already given up trying to convince you to let them in. What the rest of them were waiting for before they left, you couldn’t guess. Perhaps for you to come out and make an official announcement: The wedding has been called off. Party’s over. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here. And thanks for all the blenders.

The shame of your situation suddenly threatened to crash down upon you. It would have, if you had remained sitting where you were. Instead, you got up, white dress rustling as you stalked across the room. A quiet shriek of rage was stifled only by your gloved hand pressed to your colored lips. Of all the pathetic, idiotic, insane things you had done in your life! Now you didn’t even have the courage to face your friends and family with the truth.

“Tap. Tap. Tap.”

Hail began to hit the glass behind you, soft and hesitant. Since you had no plans to leave the building any time soon, you ignored this weather development.

Jared hadn’t even called to say he’d changed his mind. You should have known when he hadn’t come home after his stag party the night before. He was probably laughing it up over your stupidity with some blonde bikini babe by the beach that you were supposed to go to for your honeymoon. The thought caused you to kick out angrily at the coffee table, and you heard a quiet rip issue from your skirt in response when it caught on a corner.

You swore.

”Tap. Tap. Tap.”

Now that you thought about it, the sound wasn’t regular enough to be hail. It wasn’t very hesitant anymore either. Still, you ignored the noise as you yanked off your veil, your gloves, and your garter. You were mentally preparing to rip them all to shreds with your fingernails when you heard it again:

“Tap. Tap. Tap.”

That time you did not suppress your shriek. As it faded into the overstuffed furniture surrounding you, you marched over to the window and shoved it open. The wind whistled through the empty space, sending anything in the room not tied down into the air and splattering your face with water. If ever there was a time to reasonably expect an Asgardian thunder god to step inside, it was then. No one was there, though, save for a single bedraggled pigeon.

“Oh, hello,” you said when it hopped onto the sill, and automatically you held out your cupped hands toward it.

The poor thing shivered once, then stepped onto your warm palms. Only when it looked up into your face did you see that it had bright green, very un-pigeon-ish eyes.

Before you could stuff the bird back outside, it lifted itself into the air to half-flutter, half-fly over to the loveseat Aliyah had been sitting on. A flash of light that had nothing to do with the lightning outside filled the room. When you had blinked and cleared your vision enough that you could see again, the pigeon was gone, and in its place reclined a tall, dark-haired, beautiful man, dressed to the nines in Asgardian fashion.

“Hello, darling,” said Loki Laufeyson. “Don’t you look ravishing?”

You were too shocked to contradict him. No mention of your torn dress, mussed hair, or smeared makeup escaped your lips. Instead, you said the only thing you could in that sort of situation: “What are you doing here?”

“Why, I’m here to offer you my congratulations, of course,” he answered, examining one perfectly manicured nail. “Or should it be my condolences?”

“Really?” Your tone dripped with enough sarcasm that it could be heard over the protesting window as you forced it shut. “You disappear for two years, never write, never visit, and then you just happen to pop by to celebrate my wedding to another man?”

“What kind of secret lover would I be if I did not?”

“We are not secret lovers.”

“Well, no, we haven’t been for quite some time. I see no reason why that should stop us from picking up right where we left off, however.”

“We were never secret lovers.”

“Really?” he said, mocking the tone of your earlier question. “That’s not what it seemed like to me. Of course, I had the brain of a pigeon most of the time, but at night when your beau had to work and leave you so very alone–”

“You can’t just show up out of the blue and expect me to want you again,” you interrupted. “And on my wedding day to boot.”

To his credit, Loki looked genuinely confused by your behavior–like he’d expected you to jump straight into his arms, marriage or no. Obviously, they did things differently in Asgard. You were not Asgardian.

“Fine,” he said. “If that’s the way you want it. I was only trying to thank you for helping me, you know.”

“All I did was take in a pigeon that got injured when Thor threw a bunch of peanuts at a flock. It didn’t really deserve that sort of thanking.”

“Ah, but you enjoyed it anyway.” That wasn’t the point. He knew it wasn’t the point just as well as you did, because once he made it, he got fluidly up to his feet to and walked over to stand in front of you. “If you are that disinclined to see me, I suppose I had better get going. If you ever grow tired of being lonely again–oh, that’s right. You don’t know how to contact me.”

You opened your mouth to remind Loki that you didn’t want to contact him, but then something about Loki’s words rang strange.

“Alone?” you echoed.

“Yes, alone. Or do you expect your Prince Charming to come riding up on a horse of white any second now? Better late than never?”

Without thinking, without warning, you slapped him straight across the face.

“Ow!” he snapped, pressing one of his hands to the mark on his face. “What was that for?”

“What did you do?” You lifted your hand for another blow. “What did you do to Jared?”

“Me? Do something to Jared? What should I have to do with that ponderous ass?”

“Did you kill him, Loki?” you asked, voice quavering. Loki could do it. Easily. He was a god, and Jared just…well, just a ponderous ass.

Loki let out a single bark of laughter. “Oh, please. I just got out of Asgardian prison. As if I’d risk going back over the murder of a petty moral such as he.”

That brought you up short. Frowning, you deigned to look at him again. “Prison?”

“Yes, prison. Did you think my absence was due to taking a pleasure cruise?”

“I thought you’d escaped prison when I found you the first time.”

“But you sent me back to Asgard when I started causing trouble,�� he reminded you. "Odin does not forget his son’s crimes easily, nor is he inclined to forgive them. Luckily my brother is far easier to manipulate.”

He had not, you noticed, made any real move to leave. Loki still stood in front of you, looking down as the pink handprint faded from his cheek.

“So…you didn’t kill my fiancé?” you asked uncertainly.

He shook his head. “If he isn’t here, it is because he is a dunce, not because I tricked him in any way.”

“Oh.” All the problems of your appearance seemed at once apparent and embarrassing. To think that this man would see you in such a state, and only because he’d wanted to see you after his release from jail. “Why did you really come, then? Since you knew he wasn’t here. To gloat?”

“The thought did occur to me,” Loki confessed. “I am not often in the position of being the more desirable choice. But,” here his voice turned oddly sincere, “I actually came to ask you to come with me.”

Your mouth fell open. Some of Loki’s usual acerbic amusement returned as he watched you flounder; you could see the faint outlines of his familiar smirk at the corners of his mouth. Finally, you managed a short, “go with you where?”

He shrugged, and started to twist the curtain in between his long, pale fingers. “I don’t know, really.”

“You want me to go somewhere with you without anywhere in mind?”

“I thought we’d figure it out as we went along,” he said. “Travel the galaxies. I cannot return to Asgard and Midgard, of course, is out of the question so long as I do not rule it.”

“You want me to follow you into outerspace?”

Only his silence could tip you off that Loki was actually nervous. He clearly had no idea how you would respond to his suggestion–which was by falling into a nearby chair to gape at him.

“You want me to leave my family?” you asked.

“They live far away and hardly talk to you.”

“And my job?”

“That you’ve never liked. We’re both aware.”

“And my best friend?”

“She spends most of her time visiting mosques in India with her boyfriend,” Loki said with a dismissive flick of his hand. “Besides, there’s no rule to say we can’t come back to visit her every so often. I have no objection. She seems a sensible enough woman.”

“And you want me to leave them all,” you went on as though you couldn’t hear him, “for you, a man I haven’t seen in years because he was in prison.”

Once more, Loki said nothing. His green eyes peered into yours with unreadable depths, just as they had the unfortunate day you had returned home after to work to find your injured pigeon friend gone and a strange man eating all of the meat out of your fridge in its place. You could remember, too, the feel of that man’s skin against yours, the heat of his lips on your neck, the sound of his low voice in your ear–and Jared complaining, always complaining, about how much time you spent with that damn bird.

You buried your face in your hands. “I can’t do it, Loki. I can’t.”

You waited to hear him leave again, to hear the glass move and the rush of the storm and the flutter of wings. None came. All that did was one soft word:

“Please.”

“Huh?”

When you looked up, Loki was right above you. His hands gripped the chair arms at your sides with enough force to make them whiter than ever–but his eyes were not on yours anymore.

“Please,” he said, “I don’t want to lose you, too.”

Another move without thinking or warning: You gently touched his other cheek.

Loki’s eyes closed for a half second before he moved one hand to hold your wrist there. “I have already lost my father, my mother, my home. My own brother has thrust me unceremoniously from both realms I sought to rule. And then to hear that I would lose you, too, to an oaf like that Jared.”

No one could say that Loki losing all of this wasn’t entirely his fault. He had decided to lead an alien invasion into Earth, to try murdering several members of his mentioned family, and to seduce young Earth women under the guise of hurt animals. But part of Loki’s charm was that he never failed to make one doubt that he could be better, maybe, if you only let him try.

“I’m sorry,” you said sincerely. A sincere apology didn’t mean your mind was changed, however, and this, also, Loki knew.

“Do you want me to beg?” he asked. “I am no longer a stranger to begging.”

With that, Loki slid to the wooden floor before you. Stranger or no, it was positive it wasn’t a position he relished being in, what with how stiff his hands were around yours when he made to hold them. He swallowed, took a deep breath, and began:

“I know I am asking a lot. But I, too, have lost a family, a job, and my closest friends. I would not ask you to come with me if I did not intend on paying you pack ten times in kind. If you will allow me to take you with me, I know I can make you happier than you would be here. Together we will find some place to call our own, and you shall be my queen. So please,” he said, “please let me keep one last thing that I love. Don’t make me leave you behind, too.”

It wasn’t the prettiest speech you had ever heard come out of his mouth, but it was probably the most honest. You gave him a tiny smile as you squeezed his hands in return. “A queen, huh?”

Loki smirked. “Or a comfortable, quiet living, depending on what we find, and how thorough Thor is in seeking me out. At least we could be comfortable and quiet for a little while.”

“Can’t imagine that’s going to last long with you around.”

“With you around to look after me, though…”

That got you to laugh. “Oh, yes, I’m sure I’d do a wonderful job making sure you didn’t get into any trouble. I did such a good job before.”

Some of the color returned to Loki’s features. He was starting to hope. Against your better judgement, so were you. A couple of things, however, remained to bother you:

“What if you came here and Jared and I were married?” you asked.

“Then I would have had to resort to kidnapping.”

“And how did you even know I was getting married today to begin with?”

He smiled his Cheshire smile, and that was when you knew you were truly lost. “You really ought to stop talking to the birds on your fire escape. You never know which one would be willing to pass information off in exchange for a couple of peanuts.”

“Oh, and you stalk me. What part of this deal doesn’t sound good?”

“None of it, I should hope.” Standing, Loki kept one hand firmly around one of yours. “We should go, you realize. Unless you want to say your goodbyes?”

You thought of your parents blustering about how you dared to invite both of them to your wedding. You thought of the forlorn apartment you shared with a man that had never really loved you for you. You thought of Aliyah and her instance that Jared would never be good enough for you. You thought of the awkward explanation that would be expected as soon you set foot outside that door–and you grinned.

“Not a chance.”

“Then I believe,” he said, and abruptly pulled you into his arms in an obvious parody of carrying a bride before pushing the window open with his boot, “we have a few errands to go on before we get on our way.”

“Like what?”

“Unless you plan to live the rest of our lives with nothing but multiple blenders,” he began, but was not able to finish over your sudden laughter and the return of the torrent outside.

You latched your hands behind his neck as he dove back into the rain. There were stars somewhere above those clouds, and you would be visiting them soon enough–them and endless other realms. Maybe eloping with a man that could turn into a pigeon wasn’t the best miracle there ever was on Midgard, but it pulled off the most important trick of them all: Against all odds, you lived happily ever after.

113 notes · View notes