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sunset-peril · 3 months

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Link, Wolfbred King - Chapter One

Link had had enough.

Yes, he’d promised her he’d try to get along. But thank the Goddess that he hadn’t promised he would get along.

She’d fallen asleep in the well again, and he’d just lifted her out and put her in bed when he heard it.

His ears whipped up in every direction before he began scurrying on the ground like the feral beast he was. Two familiar voices. One thick with chuffing, one heavy in an opposite way.

“You are blind to oppose me! In just a few years I have completely revamped and revitalized this dusty old town.”

“Now listen here. I have nothing about how you choose to go about your business. But to completely ignore thousands of history just so you can go at your whim? I can’t allow you to tempt a dark history into repeating itself. Besides, your business can’t permanently disrupt the business of others, so you’ll either need to tone it down several notches or we’re going to have other chats.”

They continued on like this, just like usual. The spiteful tone had only returned fairly recently, and although she had originally been born here, she was not one of them.

“Daddy?”

It took all Link’s willpower from jumping out of the bush and revealing himself. When he finally processed the source of the noise, a small child bearing his pricked up ears was looking up at him with wide, moon-filled eyes. A rush of relief came flowing through him, as air left him in the same way. “It’s just you.”

“Whatchu doing, Daddy?” She crawled closer, whispering as she tried to peek at his view.

“I’m just patrolling, pumpkin. It’s past time for little pups to be in bed, what are you doing out?”

“Heard you growlin’.”

“People are yellin’, pumpkin.” He nuzzled the small child’s forehead. “Gotta keep you and Momma safe if they get out of hand.”

“Momma says you’re tree tired. You should go to bed.” “No, no, baby. Retired. And it has nothing to do with bedtime.” He bent over as much as his hips would let him. “We should get you to bed. Momma’s already asleep.”

“Daddy’s not sleepin’! No sleeping till Daddy go bed.”

“Okay, okay. But your momma is not gonna be pleased.”

“Climb on your back?” “Sure, pumpkin.” He bent down a little further to allow the small child access to his shoulders. Thankfully, he was able to get low enough to prevent his hair from being used as a ladder. “Let’s show ‘em who’s boss around here. Right, my little princess?”

“Mmhm! Daddy’s in charge!” She clung to the collar of his tunic as her father rose to all fours and began to trot towards the bickering pair.

“Ey!” The pair instantly silenced as Link came down the path. “Quit bickering, it’s late!”

“Ah, Grandpa. Sorry.”

“I thought it was understood that dark hours were quiet hours?”

Cece made a noise of indignance. “If such a matter exists, what’s with all the howling when the moon’s out?”

“I said ‘dark hours,’ not ‘night.’ Full moon doesn’t count.”

“What about moonless nights? You guys get rowdy then too.”

“That’s a ritual. Interrupt our funeral rites and I’ll show you just how good my patience normally is.”

Reede growled softly. “Cece. I wouldn’t advise antagonizing him.”

She ignored Reede’s warning. “So who gives you the authority to decide that one group gets to use the dark hours for events, and the rest of us can’t?”

“Excuse me? I am your King, Hylian!”

“Last time I checked, only female descendants of the Goddess had authority over Hylians, of which you are neither. And don’t get any bright ideas with the toddler.”

“Leave.” Link felt Reede nudge him.

“Don’t explode on her, Grandpa. It’ll just make her a martyr. Your wife’s got enough on her plate.”

Link rolled his eyes and growled. “I’ll deal with you next.” He then swung his head low, nipping underneath the hem of Cece’s dress until she began to pick up her feet and move. He then barked and snarled until he’d chased the irritant back to her residence.

Sophie had already come outside the boutique to meet them by the time he’d chased Cece to the door. “I’m sorry about her, Link. Thank you for not being harsher than you had to.”

Link’s daughter popped out from her father’s mane. “Good night, Miss Sophie!”

“My, you’re out late, Miss Zelda Ivee. Are you helping your dad?”

“Yeah! I help so he go to bed fast!”

“Aww. Are you going home too, Link? You know how your wife gets when you stay out too late.”

“Yeah, heading back to put myself and my princess here to bed. Cece was just causing a disturbance.”

“Be careful with your leg.”

His ears folded over themselves and he smiled a little sheepishly. “Got it, Sophie.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Link.”

Link whipped his head around to catch the sneaking-away Reede once Sophie closed her door. “I’m not done with you.” The elder Wolfbred cut off his descendant’s escape route, pressing his upper body down onto Reede’s left shoulder. “Your duty as mayor is to protect the village and its people, not to get shoved around.”

“Grandpa, Cece is technically a native here. Whether or not she’s legally considered a Wolfbred shouldn’t change how the village interacts with her.”

“It doesn’t. Her hostile attitude does. You know, before the Calamity-”

“Grandpa. Stop equating a monarch with an iron fist to a self-regulating settlement in a decayed kingdom. You’re never going to find any peace with your life if you keep expecting us to act like the Hyrule that was.”

“...Walk with me, Reede.” He released Reede’s shoulder and continued his four-legged walk alongside Reede towards the latter’s abode. “You say ‘it’s only one woman, what harm can it do to play along?’ but, it was ‘only one woman’ who created us all millenia ago, ‘only one woman’ who led genocide against us - who murdered us by the thousands as we were chased onto these lands - and ‘only one woman’ who saved us all one hundred and twenty years ago from incest-induced extinction. So tell me, Reede, how can this ‘one woman’ be of no significance?”

“Those women were all magic-”

“They never used their magic to do those things. They used their words. And I didn’t ask you about them, I asked you about her.”

“Link, if you’re so fearful that we’ll end up in exile again… that’s simply not possible. Most Hylians now are descended from Wolfbreds, because Hateno and Lurelin were the only Hylian villages that didn’t burn.”

“I never said she would reenact the exile. I said you have a duty to not get shoved around by brats with big words.”

“Grandpa, Zelda’s trying to figure it out. We’re not asking you to provide us a threat-free life. You did your job, you earned your rest. Let us take up the mantle from here.”

“Prove to me you can carry it, Reede, and then we’ll talk. My sister kept this place going despite the Calamity, despite the Age of Burning Fields, despite everything that happened after me and my father passed away. Prove you’re worthy to inherit her honor.” Link sat abruptly in front of a stone arch. “Your residence.”

Reede sighed, keeping his head bowed. Had a tail been present, it would drag the ground in defeat. “Good night, Grandpa.”

“Good night, Reede. Tell Clavia and Karin I say hello.” He began to walk away as Reede ascended the stairs to his house.

Zelda Ivee looked back at Reede before snuggling Link. “You seem sad, Daddy.”

“I’m okay, pumpkin. Let’s go join Momma in bed, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

~~~~

Hyrule's Final Stand Masterlist

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

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While You Were Sleeping... | dark!Stucky x reader

warnings: noncon, somnophilia, dp, slight breeding kink, kidnapping, bondage, drugging, pain kink, choking, spanking, slapping, degradation, mention of blood

word count: 3.3k

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

The sound was the first thing you became aware of. Your eyes were heavy, so heavy you couldn’t open them, as hard as you fought. All your effort led to one brief sliver of light, but it was gone so fast you couldn’t process what it was.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

You heard yourself moan softly as you tried to stir, but your whole body was half-numb and as dense as lead.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

It was faster, and louder, until it suddenly stopped. Something shifted after that… something outside you, and something inside you.

“Your turn.”

Hearing words tore one more layer of your sleep away, and you managed to open your eyes for just a moment longer, long enough finally to see your surroundings for a second.

You were face-down on a bed; no sheets, just a mattress. It shifted again, and you realized another weight was settling onto it.

Something warm ran down your spine. Fingers? Was someone touching you? And not through clothes, but straight onto your skin.

...am I naked?

You fought through the static tingling your tired limbs, and wiggled your arm a bit. A jingling noise, a tightness on your wrist; a shackle and chain.

“Are you wakin’ up now, doll?”

Bucky? you tried to speak, but your lips wouldn’t move. You were nearly paralyzed, but conscious enough to move your arm again, shaking the chain louder this time.

“Good,” you heard him reply. “I’ll be honest, the drugs were a compromise for me. I want you to be awake for this.”

Your legs were pushed wider apart. Something hot was pushing against your— no, that can’t be right. This can’t be happening. This isn’t happening.

A shift inside you. He was inside you. You tried to kick him away but all that came of it was a twitch in your calf.

“That all the fight you got, sweetheart?” Bucky chuckled. You could feel his hands on your hips, pulling you into him each time he thrusted forward. You were thankful for the numbness, because you knew this would be painful without it; you could feel how far his intrusion was stretching you, how deep he was inside you. So deep that you could feel it in your stomach.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

The headboard slammed into the concrete wall with every thrust, the sound marking each time he buried himself as deep as he could go. He was so impressed that you could take all of him, even though it would probably be challenging for a version of you that was fully lucid. There had been a little blood after Steve was finished with you, so he knew you were being pushed beyond your limits. But he also knew you could take it.

Well, he knew you had no choice but to take it. So maybe not so much that you could, but that you would.

“So tight, doll, especially when you try to fight it,” he praised, groaning when your walls pulsed around him again. “You came when you were knocked out— twice. Wanna see how many times I can make you come when you’re awake?”

You fought the instinct to writhe in protest, knowing now that it only egged him on.

“There’s a good girl,” he groaned, “just lay there and take it, honey. I’m just sorry you can’t feel all of me like you know you want to. The last of the tranquilizer should wear off soon…”

No, no, that’s the only thing making this tolerable, you realized. “No…” you managed to mumble aloud, though it was broken and nearly inaudible.

A harsh slap landed on your ass and your body jerked with the pain.

“What’s that, doll? Can’t hear you,” he mocked.

“Bucky…” you murmured, still barely able to believe that he was doing this. He’d acted weird around you a few times, Steve had told you it wasn’t a big deal—

Steve… Steve would help you.

“Steve?” you slurred.

“What is it, pet?” his voice echoed from behind you.

He’s already here?

The realization made your gut sink. He was already here. Your turn, you remembered someone saying; it was him. He’d been here a long time, hadn’t he?

“Want me instead, huh? Buck’s not doin’ it for ya?” Steve laughed.

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky groaned. “She’s gonna cream on my cock any second, I can tell.”

“Go ahead then,” Steve encouraged you, “come for him if you like it so much.”

“No…” you managed to sigh again, but it wasn’t to them this time; it was to yourself. You needed to stop this, because Bucky was right and you weren’t ready to cope with that in this moment. You needed to hate this, it needed to hurt. And both of those things were true… but you were going to come in spite of it. Or, perhaps, because of it.

You started to sob as your mind warred with your body, as pleasure and fear and dread and disgust were all overshadowed by a deep primal need.

Bucky leaned down, his body crushing yours as his teeth nipped at your neck. “You’re drooling all over the mattress, sweetheart; our brainless little fuckdoll, so stuffed with cock you can’t think.”

A tingle ran up your spine so strongly that your back arched involuntarily, pushing his cock even deeper into you. Bucky grinned and you would’ve grimaced if you could move your face that much. “Oh, you like that, don’t you? We knew you needed to let go, but you would never do it on your own. That’s what the drugs were for, to loosen you up a bit. But you’re awake now, and you’re finally realizing how good it is to be owned, aren’t you? Nobody’s here but us, baby, we won’t tell anyone how much you love it. It’ll be our little secret.”

Out of nowhere, you came. It was dulled and distant as it fought against the effects of the drugs, but undeniable. You felt hot all of a sudden, like you would burn up, as you shivered and tightened involuntarily. You could really feel him now, every ridge and vein, every detail sliding along your insides and stretching you impossibly wide. It felt like it wouldn’t stop so long as he didn’t stop fucking you; your skin erupted into goosebumps, even though you felt anything but cold.

“Just like that, doll… so fuckin’ good,” he groaned, the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through your bones. “Squeezin’ me so goddamn tight, I could come right now—”

“No!” you yelped.

“Is that the only word you know?” he hissed.

“Not… not inside…” you murmured.

“Not inside? Doll, Stevie already filled this filthy little cunt,” Bucky informed you with a purr. “You couldn’t even tell, huh? Don’t worry, you’re gonna feel it this time.”

You whimpered but couldn’t put a sentence together, focusing most on not moaning every time he thrusted into you; his balls slapping into your clit was just enough sensation to keep you on the edge, but his thick head massaging your g-spot was too intense to ignore.

When you opened your eyes, you could see Bucky’s long hair falling in front of your face, and his hand reaching out to interlace his fingers with yours. How could he do something so intimate, like he couldn’t feel the restraint around your wrist as he did it?

“I’m close, sweetheart, you’re gonna make me come,” he grinned, and it was weirdly prideful. Like he knew that some part of you craved for his approval. Of course you did; he was your superior, your Sergeant, your boss. You just didn’t intend for this to be the way you got it.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

You bit down on your lip to keep quiet, hoping you could give no reaction at all. It didn’t work, because just as he’d promised, you could feel his cock flexing and pulsing, you could feel his seed pumping into you. A groan of protest slipped from your lips, louder than you’d expected. It seemed to go on forever, or maybe it was just because you knew the potential this had… he’d said Steve had come inside you, too. You just hoped they’d let you go in time to get a Plan B. Surely they were going to let you go soon, now that he was done and they’d both had their turn.

The idea of them taking turns with your body made you feel sick. So did the rush of hot liquid that oozed out of you as Bucky pulled his cock out.

“Can you go again, Buck?” Steve asked gruffly.

“Sure,” Bucky answered, seemingly just as curious as you were as to why he would ask that.

“Get under her,” he demanded.

“Wh… what…?” you moaned sleepily, trying to understand what was happening. You were being lifted and manhandled, limp in his arms, as Bucky slipped under your body and wrapped his arms around you. Your head laid against his chest as you pulled at your restraints again, more determined than before but just as fruitless.

Another weight moved in behind you; Steve, of course. You could tell by the little laugh he made as his rough hands moved up the backs of your legs.

“Your pussy looks completely ruined,” Steve informed you, “like it was meant to be.”

He reached down and gathered some of the come that had leaked out of you— yours, Bucky’s and his own all mixed together— on two of his fingers and pushed it back into you. You winced and struggled, even just his fingers big enough to stretch you. Then again, anything was big enough to reignite the pain in your sore channel by this point.

“But this hole is still untouched,” he added, his fingers slipping out of you and trailing up to— oh.

“N-no,” you moaned quietly, “not there…”

“Not where, honey?” Steve taunted, his wet fingers drawing circles over your puckered opening.

“Not… not in my ass,” you pleaded weakly. You could hear Bucky’s heartbeat get faster next to your ear. “You can use my pussy again just… not there, please.”

“Oh, so generous,” Steve grinned, but his amusement turned to anger as he slapped the inside of your thigh. You squealed with the pain, jerking inside Bucky’s embrace, and Steve hit you a few more times. “Bargaining with your body as if it’s yours in the first place. Stupid whore. Both these holes are mine, you understand?”

You cried out when he hit you again, the telltale burning of oncoming tears starting to sting the backs of your eyes. But you refused to cry.

“Do you understand?” he repeated, firmer.

“Yes, Captain!” you blurted out, an old habit from when you were at work. You felt your face burn with shame as both of them laughed at your obedience.

“Such a good soldier,” Steve praised. “I know you can take it, baby, if you just relax and let it feel good. I’ll make it good for you. Buck’s gonna keep that greedy little cunt full, too; won’t you, Sarge?”

“Yes, Cap,” Bucky grinned, rubbing his cock through your swollen folds again. You hadn’t anticipated that their stamina would apply to this. They’re going to keep me here for a while, aren’t they?

As Bucky teased your clit with his fat and leaking head, Steve pushed his fingers into your hole. You tried to relax through the burn, gasping and groaning in spite of yourself.

“Ever been touched here before?” Steve asked, curling his fingers inside you until you let out a little moan. “Doesn’t seem like it. You were always hard at work, never had time for a boyfriend did you? Not one that knew how to treat you right, at least.”

“Is this your idea… of treating me right?” you hissed through heavy breaths. “Knocking me out? Chaining me up?”

“That was just the only way to get you to let us take care of you,” Bucky explained. “This is treating you right.”

Before you could ask what he was referring to, both of them pressed their cocks into your holes. Bucky’s cock slid in with a hint of pain, but Steve’s hit more resistance— not that that stopped him.

You screamed, knocked out of the last of your drug-induced haze and thrown head-first into reality. Sick, stinging, sharp reality. Your arms pulled at the chains as your legs kicked wildly. Steve grabbed your ankles as they swung by, pushing your legs up and holding them down until you were forced to straddle Bucky. The new angle made you feel somehow more exposed to both of them.

“Shut up and take it,” Steve groaned darkly. They both pushed in deeper, their cocks getting thicker the further down you got, and your eyes rolled back into your head.

“That’s it, just let go, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered. “You can take it, you were made for us, you can take it…”

You were too overwhelmed to process his words, though, as they kept filling you and you wondered if it would ever stop. You wondered if you wanted it to stop, even though it was painful and degrading and beyond twisted.

“Almost done, honey, you’re takin’ us so well,” Steve cooed.

“She might pass out, Steve,” Bucky realized as he examined your face, tilting your head up to look at him.

“Maybe then she’ll stop fighting,” he shrugged in reply.

Bucky was buried all the way into you, but there was still some of Steve left to take and you were sure it wouldn’t fit. You already felt so full that you could barely breathe. Just to rub it in, Steve slammed that last inch into you, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

“Fuck,” Steve sighed, “you feel so good, babygirl. The others call you a tightass behind your back, did you know that? They don’t know how right they are…”

“Talk to me, soldier; are you still with us?” Bucky asked, slapping your cheek lightly to get your attention. You nodded quickly. “Feel how full you are, doll?” You nodded again. “You like it, don’t you?”

You stayed silent this time.

“No need to pretend, honey, we can tell,” Steve groaned. “You’re dripping all over the both of us, and your cute little ass is clenching around me.”

“Just say it,” Bucky moaned. “Say you love it.”

“I… I love it,” you stammered, hoping that it was just to appease them.

“Then ride our cocks, like the little slut you are,” Steve demanded, smacking your ass one more time. You tried to lift your hips, shuddering with the way it moved both of them inside you, but it was so difficult with your weak and aching muscles. When you did it again, you fell suddenly with a wavering groan.

“Too weak, baby? You’re so pathetic; let me show you how,” Steve offered, grabbing your hips tightly and lifting them with almost no effort. You moaned, properly, as he used your body and dropped you up and down on his and Bucky’s cocks roughly. “The least you could do is sit up; go on, put your hands on Buck’s shoulders and arch that back, show me how bad you want it.”

The chains were long enough that you could do it, though looking down at Bucky and the metal cuffs on your wrist was a lot to take in. With a groan of pain, your wobbling arms lifted you up.

“I knew you could be a good girl,” Steve sighed, moving your body faster against his as his grip left bruises in the shape of his fingertips on your skin.

Bucky reached up and wrapped his cold metal hand around your neck, choking you suddenly. Both men groaned as the loss of air made you flutter around them. “Fuck, you like that, huh? You like getting choked, doll? Dirty slut.”

When he finally let go, it was like all the sounds that had been caught in your throat came out at once. A groan, a sigh, a moan, and a sob churned together to make something inhuman and debasing. They were fucking you like animals, you were shackled and bound like an animal, and now you sounded like an animal.

“Do you wanna breathe, doll? Or do you wanna come?” Bucky growled.

“I wanna… I wanna come,” you moaned. The hand on your neck tightened again, and the tingles of lost sensation spread over your body quickly. You were so close to coming again that you could barely imagine how it happened so fast. They were reaching every sensitive spot inside you— rather, they were turning every spot inside you into a sensitive one. The loss of air only pushed you closer, and you wanted to scream but all you could do was dig your fingernails into Bucky’s shoulders as it hit you hard. You went completely limp in their arms, only Bucky’s hand holding you upright. He relaxed his grip, still tight enough to keep you completely aware of his power over you, but loose enough that you could breathe.

“Don’t stop coming, sweetheart, I love seeing you do it,” Steve beamed. “You can give us a few more before we’re done— right, Buck?”

“I don’t know man, she feels really good,” Bucky moaned, choking you again so you wouldn’t interrupt their conversation.

“Get it together, man,” Steve teased, “you can’t get all sentimental on me again.”

“I can’t help it, okay? Been waiting for this for so long…” Bucky trailed off, or maybe it was just that your hearing was fading out as the loss of air pushed you towards the beckoning darkness.

You gasped when he let go again, your moans turning into sobs and tears finally rolling down your cheeks. You’d sworn you wouldn’t let them see you cry, but you couldn’t even remember that now.

“Such a cute little crybaby,” Steve purred, slamming into you faster. “Can’t take it anymore, huh? It’s too much for you?”

“Please…” you whispered, so hoarse that you couldn’t recognize it as yourself.

“‘Please’ what, doll?” Bucky pressed, massaging your neck in his palm.

You didn’t know what you were begging for, truly. Bucky choked you again, grinning up at you and fucking you rougher than before.

“I know what you want: you wanna come again, yeah? So needy… this’ll be, what, the fifth today? Go ahead, princess, show us how bad you need us.”

They all started to blend together after that. Just one big haze, interlaced with so much sensation that you couldn’t parse any of it into separate incidents. Steve leaned forward to suck a mark on the back of your neck; Bucky used his free hand to twist your nipples and slap your tits, before moving down to roughly rub your aching clit with his thumb. Bucky came first but stayed inside while Steve roughly pumped into your ass. Without the distraction of Bucky’s movement inside you, you became more aware of how far Steve’s cock was stretching you. He came with a cry and Bucky’s fingers pulled another orgasm from you, too. He never stopped rubbing you there, not even when they’d both stopped moving and you were too exhausted to do anything but take it. It made your body jolt even though your muscles ached and begged for rest. You vaguely remembered begging for rest, too, but you didn’t get it until Bucky was satisfied.

When they both pulled out, you could feel the hot sticky mess gush from your holes; it was disgusting, and yet you felt a weak pang of arousal run up your spine. Bucky slipped out from under you with an exhausted groan of his own, leaving you to flop down onto the bed lifelessly.

“Get some rest, honey,” Steve encouraged. “We’ll help you shower when you wake up.”

Any other day and you would’ve needed to shower first before you could fall asleep again, not to mention having your wrists freed from the chains. But you were already nearly gone by this point, your eyes heavy again as your mind went blank.

The last thing you heard was a heavy steel door slamming shut: thunk.

#dark!stucky x reader #dark!stucky noncon #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!stucky smut #dark!bucky barnes smut #dark!steve rogers smut

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cheri-translates · 3 years

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Headcanon - When he thinks you’re going to kiss him

Original title: 当他以为你要亲他

Original author: 君兮耶君兮 (jun xi ye jun xi)

[ VICTOR ]

Your gaze flits from Victor to the bookshelf, as though pondering on something quietly. While reading his documents, Victor’s sharp senses cause him to notice this. His eyebrows arch slightly as he waits for your next move.

Finally, you come to a decision. You step forward slowly, then lean down in front of him. “Victor...”

“Dummy,” he mumbles with a chuckle. He cooperates, closing his eyes and tilting his chin slightly.

“Hm? What did I do?” You express confusion, reaching out for a novel from the shelf behind him. Since he’s blocking your way, you have no choice but to grab the book through this intimate posture.

Victor stiffens, and he opens his eyes instantly. Your face is filled with question marks as you hold the book before him.

“Why did you close your eyes?”

“...my eyes were tired, so I was resting them.”

“Oh?” You glance at him slyly. “Even though you looked pretty weird smiling with your eyes closed, I believe you.”

In contrast to what you just said, the words “I don’t believe you” are more or less etched on your face in bold.

“...a certain company’s financial status is in line with expectations. That’s why I was smiling.” Unable to ignore the teasing look in your eyes, he sets down his notebook laptop, then stands up and pinches your face. “Why are you laughing?”

“I’m not, I’m not!” You quickly plead for forgiveness. “You’re the boss, so whatever you say is correct!” With this, you rescue your face from his clutches, preparing to flee.

One step ahead, Victor sees through your plan. How could he possibly let you off? He tugs on your arm, pressing you to his chest. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I just wanted to read a book to relieve boredom,” you give him an embarrassed smile. “Since your eyes were closed, I actually planned to give you a kiss reluctantly. It’s your fault for calling me a dummy.”

“Reluctantly?” Victor chuckles in spite of himself. An arm snakes around your waist, causing you to tremble. His finger pad rubs your lips, and his scent occupies all of your senses.

“Since you’re here, don’t think of leaving.”

[ GAVIN ]

Standing in front of Gavin, you mete out your commands.

“Close your eyes and lift your head.”

Gavin is currently sitting on the bed and fixing a jigsaw puzzle. Thinking that you’re playing a game, he follows your instructions obediently. As he feels your soft fingers tilting his chin upwards slightly, he thinks about how his girl is no longer as shy as before, and knows how to initiate intimacy with him now.

But… nothing happens.

Just as he’s about to open his eyes, the hand pinching his chin shifts over to his cheek, giving it a light tug. “Keep your eyes closed.”

“Okay.”

He doesn’t put much thought into it, guessing that you’re just feeling shy.

You lean over, your warm breaths brushing his face. Gavin feels his muscles stiffening.

All of a sudden, something sticks to his lips. He subconsciously opens his mouth, but very quickly realises that something’s off. The thing that made contact isn’t you, but a cold and rounded object.

“Hey, don’t bite my lipstick!” Your heart aches as you stare at the bite marks on your newly bought lipstick.

“Lipstick?” Gavin’s eyes snap open, spotting himself in the mirror behind you. Sure enough, his lips are now dyed a bright red because of you. He freezes.

You point to your own lips. “Mm. I wanted to test if the shade’s nice, but I’ve already applied another shade. I needed you to be the model.” Tilting your head to admire the view, you chuckle. “Not bad.”

The grip around your wrist tightens. Before you can react, the man in front of you nibbles your lips gently. Two shades of lipsticks meld together, forming a new colour.

After a long while, Gavin finally lets you off so that you can catch your breath. As you lay in his arms with your cheeks flushed, he lowers his head to give you a peck on the lips.

“Your new lipstick looks pretty good.”

[ LUCIEN ]

“Professor Lucien!” You interlace your fingers together with his while lying in his arms.

Lucien looks down, meeting your bright and clear eyes. He responds with a knowing smile, lowering his head in compliance. “How did you know that I wanted a...”

Propping yourself up on his shoulder, you reach for a book on the shelf behind him.

Lucien: ...

“Know about what?” You snuggle yourself back into his arms. Based on his expression, you can tell what he thought was about to happen. However, you can’t resist the urge to tease him. You blink innocently. “I just wanted to grab a book.”

How could Lucien not know what’s on your mind? He bows his head to watch you, the deep pools of his eyes almost sucking you in.

“I thought my Little Miss was going to give me a kiss to recharge my batteries.” Lucien sounds wronged. Along with his usual piteous expression, you aren’t able to withstand it.

You gulp. No matter how handsome the fictional men in novels are, they can’t compare to your Professor Lucien - a feast for the eyes.

Seeing your emotions stir, Lucien follows up with his victory. “Turns out I thought too much. It’s okay, you can carry on with what you were busy with. I’ll just stay here on my own.”

He releases his hold on your waist. If you ignored Lucien’s watery gaze, you might have believed he was genuinely leaving you to your own devices.

“Pfft.” You can’t help but burst into a chuckle. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you close the distance between the both of you. Giving him a peck on the lips, you grin while asking, “Do you still want to stay here on your own?”

Lucien’s return gift is another kiss.

“I think two people might be happier than one.”

[ KIRO ]

You spot something sticking on Kiro’s hair, and think of getting it out for him.

“Kiro, lower your head.”

Misunderstanding your intentions, Kiro complies and closes his eyes. He rushes you cheerfully. “Go on, Miss Chips! I just ate a strawberry flavoured candy, so my kiss will definitely be really sweet!”

You roll your eyes, grabbing a cushion at the side and using it to smack him on the face. “You ate snacks on the sly again! And you hid them from me! I’m telling Savin!”

“Miss Chips, I lied. I didn’t eat any strawberry flavoured candy!” The undisciplined and lawless Little Kiro is most afraid of the Great Agent Savin.

“You changed your story so quickly. Who would believe you?” Although you usually fear Savin’s wrath as well, you aren’t an accomplice this time. If you were to spill the beans to Savin, he might give you permission to eat fried chicken and drink cola right in front of Kiro... Just the thought of this scene makes you happy!

Sensing your doubt, Kiro opens his mouth with an “ah”, showing that there really isn’t anything in his mouth. Then, he reveals a bag of unopened strawberry candies from behind him. “Look, I haven’t opened it yet. I wanted to eat them with you when you got back, but you wronged me.”

Taking the bag, you confirm that it hasn’t been opened. Looks like you truly maligned him. You scratch your head in embarrassment. “Sorry, Kiro. I misunderstood you.”

“Your apology is so insincere. I want a kiss!” Kiro shuts his eyes, straightforward and frank.

With a resigned chuckle, you readily give him a peck.

Your eyes snap open abruptly.

Where did that pitiful Kiro from earlier go to?

All that’s left is a bear cub with a mischievous smile. “You’ve found out, haven’t you? It was actually a tangerine flavoured candy. Miss Chips and I are accomplices now, so you can’t tell Savin!”

[ SHAW ]

You’re standing in front of him, unflinching and unblinking.

“Shaw.”

Meeting your clear eyes, the amusement in Shaw’s eyes darkens. He lowers his head obediently, letting you do as you please.

However, his tone is one of reluctance. “Tsk. I can’t say no to you. Go on.”

You toss a glance at this loose tongued rascal, reaching out towards his hair. Under his gaze of unconcealed joy and an expression which reads, “look at how much I indulge you”… you pluck bits of fur from the top of his hair, tugging on his bluish purple hair in the process.

Shaw, who is just about to wrap his arm around your shoulders for a “deep” interaction: ???

“What? Did you think I was going to kiss you?” You tease, watching his claws hang awkwardly mid-air.

Shaw reacts instantly, retracting his hand and pretending that nothing happened earlier. He glares at you, his attempts to cover up only making matters more obvious. “How’s that possible? I was referring to... yes, the thing you removed from my hair!”

“Little kids who tell lies won’t have girlfriends!” It’s rare to see him like this, and you can’t help but tease him.

“Tsk. You’re so troublesome.” He frowns. Before you can react, he grabs you by the shoulders and seals your lips. You feel a gentle nibble reminiscent of a little animal deathly afraid of breaking something.

Once your breaths return to normal, you lean against Shaw, legs wobbly. If it weren’t for his strength, you’d definitely have fallen to the ground.

Shaw has his arms around you as he presses you to him, the insuppressible smile on his lips announcing his pleasant mood.

“Who wants to be a little kid? Only intelligent adults have wives.”

More translated and original works: here

[ Permission to translate ]

君兮耶君兮: Can, just state the author and the source

#mlqc #cheri shortcake

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bontenten · 3 years

Text

Efficiency

Pairing: Daishou x f!reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings/Tags: smut, exhibitionism, voyeurism, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, praise, light degredation, aftercare, established relationship

Thank you so much @/bakatenshii and @/thirstyforthem2dmen for beta-reading. This is a repost from my main after it went fully sfw. Originally for the hqhq (now Anilysium) hard at work collab.

Pen scrawls and keyboard taps sound throughout the conference room as your boss goes over current client projects. Daishou is sitting across the table and you notice he's wearing the tie you gave him for his birthday last year. Looks good, you think to yourself. It's not just the tie, it's his entire outfit, and him.

Daishou notices your lingering stare and makes eye contact, granting you a cheeky grin and a head tilt. Pompous bastard. In response, you send back an expression of mock disgust before turning your attention back to your laptop.

For any newcomer at the firm, it might seem like the office is split down the middle into either your camp or Daishou's, with opinions and jabs on completely opposite ends of the spectrum. Why else is there so much spite being tossed around between the two of you, if not due to a deeply entrenched layer of grievances?

It might leave the newbie confused as to why Daishou affectionately calls you his "most significant problem". Or why you preface notes to him with, "to whom this may piss off, my royal pain-in-the-ass".

Then there comes a revelation to the newbie that you and Daishou are not mortal enemies, but rather the most wretchedly in-love couple in this skyrise building. It's a bad decision to cross either you or Daishou for any matter. Not only are the both of you perfectly vindictive, crossing one means submitting an application to be on the blacklist of the other. There's no doubt, in your humblest opinion, that Daishou, even if he'll never outright admit it, absolutely worships the dirt under your heels. And when you are in remotely a good mood, fine, you don't mind his coffee breath either.

It's heartwarming, that in this tower of cold, hard stainless steel and immaculate glass panels, there's love floating around the disinfected air of money, money, and more money. When it counts, you can be sure that Daishou will stand on the same side of the fence as you.

While the meeting goes on and you multitask with the spreadsheet open on your screen, you think you hear your name being tossed around. To your knowledge, everything is lined up already and unless there is some sort of overnight emergency, there's absolutely nothing left on your plate to take care of.

At the same time, there is also the off-chance that someone decides to drag you into hell with them and include you in a project. Now, who could possibly have the audacity to put you into the wringer with them?

"Daishou! Excellent, I'll leave this to you," the boss exclaims. "This pitchbook needs to be done by tomorrow. It's high urgency and the client just sent the numbers in."

A sinking feeling begins to churn in your stomach. You pause your frenzy across the keyboard and pay attention to the meeting to hear the rest of what Daishou has to say.

"If I may," Daishou curtly asks with a smile that's a tad too wide, "I'd like to work with Y/N on this. As you know, we work best together. It'll be done before the meeting tomorrow."

You can feel everyone's eyes turn to you in the meeting room, begging you to please say yes to the man holding titles such as your boyfriend, co-worker, and also 'royal pain-in-the-ass'. You force a smile and match Daishou's client-ready, saccharine expression. "Of course, we'll have it done tonight."

Suddenly, the atmosphere of the entire meeting room relaxes by ten notches. Bastards, all of you.

"Our firm's best duo!" the boss praises, "We'll leave it to you two then. Meeting adjourned."

It's the two words everyone has been waiting for. The moment the syllable falls, the conference room is filled with the sounds of shifting seats and scuffling feet eager to leave work for the day. With a huff, you shut your laptop and see Daishou coming around the conference table with his laptop and files tucked under his arm. He adjusts and tugs on his tie.

"Guess it's you and me again tonight," Daishou comments.

"And here I wanted to leave work early for once."

"Hey, just a special date night. It's called 'overtime', sounds pretty sexy don't you think?"

You snort and walk past him, going towards the direction of the elevator. Daishou eyes your figure strutting down the hall. The lines of your ironed shirt and the pencil skirt that hugs your figure perfectly match the echoing clack of your heels striking shiny tiles.

Even if you don't remember, Daishou's impeccable memory absolutely remembers how the last time you paired that shirt and that skirt together, it was an overtime situation very much similar to tonight. And the cock that's starting to grow hard in his slacks certainly remembers a lot more. He can feel it twitching just trying to conjure up the sensation of your gummy walls milking him in the breakroom a month ago.

"You coming or what?"

Daishou sees you holding the elevator door open and waiting for him. Daishou won't ever admit to this, maybe to you in privacy, but Daishou will rather be dead than admit to anyone else how lucky he feels to have someone as incredible as you in his life.

He takes a few quick steps and enters the elevator.

"How sweet," he coos. "I knew you wouldn't just leave me hanging and working in this dismal place all alone."

"Shut-up, Suguru," you snap, but you lean your head against his shoulder anyway. It's been such a long day already, and the night is only going to be longer.

"Stay the night at my place later? I'll order your favorite."

"Let's get this project over with first."

"I caught you staring at me during the meeting."

"Huh, is that so."

"Practically stripped me naked with your eyes. Ooh, I felt tingles all over."

You lift your head from his shoulder. "You're so full of yourself Suguru," you remark before tugging on his tie to pull his face closer to yours. "If anything, I think you're the one getting hard at work."

Daishou leans in even closer. A hand encircles your wrist and his thumb brushes your inner-wrist across the bump of the vein. Your pulse is throbbing against his fingertips. You feel your adrenaline and anticipation rushing through your body as your heart pounds harder and faster.

"Then do something to help poor lil' me out?"

"At your place later, we—"

"But I want you so badly right now," Daishou breathes out, body tight against you so you can feel his straining desires through the layers of fabric. "I want—

Ding.

The elevator opens up to the floor the two of you work at. The co-workers waiting for the lift can only see two pristine and exemplary office workers without any semblance of dishevelment walk out. Daishou even says a polite "see you tomorrow" to them.

"If only the elevator stopped working," you joke after taking a deep breath to swallow the fire building in your core. "Sly snake, no one here in the office knows your true colors."

Sometimes, you wonder just how Daishou can switch his persona so quickly. Or maybe he just likes the precarious edge of being horny at work.

"Love you too dear," he sneers.

A couple workers are still at their desks scrambling for their deadlines. You and Daishou take a seat at your work stations and begin to chip away at the urgent, overtime project. Every now and then, you'll say good-night to the other remaining co-workers finally able to go home. It doesn't take long before the halls are completely vacated and empty except for the two of you still slaving away in front of the bright monitors for hours into the night.

"Where are you going?" you ask Daishou who is returning to his seat after disappearing down the hall again. "This is the third time in the last hour. Are you shitting in the toilets or dumping all the work on me?"

Daishou comes by your desk and leans on the back of your chair. "Just making some phone calls. Want to go home now? It's getting late."

"Uh...work's not done yet."

"It's fine, let's have dinner first, we can just work remotely at my place. The bulk is done anyway."

You glance at the clock and ponder Daishou's offer. It doesn't hurt to leave a little early and continue the work later in a more comfortable setting. "Okay, let me pack."

After cleaning up the workstation and packing everything the two of you will need, you and Daishou are back in the hallway waiting for the descending elevator.

Daishou takes the heavy tote bag from your shoulders. “I’ll hold onto this,” he explains.

“Why so nice today, Suguru? First luring me over with food, the compliments, and suggestions to leave early…” You trace a finger along the line of his spine and observe, pleased with the nervous grin spreading on his face. “Someone’s losing patience, hm?”

Daishou gives you an ingratiating smile. “Princess, as fancy as our work is, we still work in client-services. What can I say, I live to serve and please.”

“Cheeky.”

The elevator arrives and the two of you enter the space.

"How long do you think we still need?" you ask Daishou.

"Must we talk about work, right now?"

"You're just horny, Suguru."

"Oh, so it's 'just' me, is that what it is?"

You shrug and admit, "Nah, I was wondering why you didn't suggest anything earlier when the office was empty."

"Baby, if you wanted me that bad, you should've just climbed on my lap."

You laugh at Daishou's retort and prepare a comeback. "I think—"

A loud screech sounds through the elevator and the lights flicker briefly before a jolt causes you to stumble. Your hand automatically flies to the handrail. Daishou also wraps an arm around you tightly to steady your balance.

"Is the..."

"Seems like we're stuck," Daishou comments.

You rapidly press the service bell button, but it's no use. "No one's picking up, it's like the signal got cut. Should've just taken the stairs!"

The cell signal is also terribly weak in the elevator space. There's nothing else to do but wait and see how things play out.

Daishou laughs dryly and smooths his hair back. "We work on the 18th floor, since when do we take the stairs?"

"There's that one evacuation drill..." you reply weakly.

Daishou raises an eyebrow, giving you a look that says, really now?

"You're right, we're doomed. Last moments and—"

"With the love of your life, isn't that pleasant a way to go?" Daishou tightens his arms around you. "Don't worry, it's all going to be okay."

You reciprocate and respond to his hug, while your brain searches for a solution. "I once saw on the internet that if the elevator drops, you have to time your jump right before the elevator hits the ground floor. Otherwise—"

"Shhh," Daishou shushes you quietly with a quick kiss. He rocks you from side to side and reassures you again that everything is okay.

"Trust me, it'll be okay. Let's just have a little fun while we're waiting," he suggests one hand already tracing up your thigh. "Maybe it'll relax all those nerves you've been holding onto."

Daishou wants to laugh. Whose nerves exactly? Do you have any idea how he’s been counting the minutes and seconds for this moment while you innocently worked on the project like the good, model worker that you are?

It took everything in him to somehow put down a few excel formulas and not shove the monitors onto the floor to fuck you senseless across the worktables. Not to mention, the pleasure of having those witty remarks that spurt out from that little mouth of yours replaced with incomprehensible whines and begs for your precious Suguru to fill you to the brim. And now that you also admit to thinking along the same lines earlier, Daishou knows the dirty little thoughts clouding into your mind already.

Some slut that you are, acting proper and put-together at work, basking in the praise from co-workers and the boss; they just don’t know how ten minutes after those morning touchpoint meetings, you are bouncing on Daishou’s cock in a hidden corner while the financial markets open for the day. It’s an art, really, the number of quicks you two manage to fit into the crevices of a busy office schedule. But that’s why Daishou is one of the best employees of the firm. Daishou Suguru works quickly. He works efficiently.

The patterns Daishou's fingers trace tickle and send shivers up the skin. His low voice and hot breath across your ear elicits a soft gasp as you press your thighs together in the tight, figure-hugging skirt, seeking some hidden relief for the needy throb inside. The scrap of fabric down there is barely able to soak up the wetness beginning to pool. You are pressed up against him for comfort and security, your breasts plush against his chest. Each inhale and exhale you take is a test of patience.

"T-there's a camera," you remind him through shaky breaths, eyes flickering to the black mechanism in the corner. This is your final thread.

Daishou eyes the camera that is staring expectantly at the tryst about to happen in the cramped space with a wicked grin. Like that has ever bothered you, but if you want to play coy, he’ll humor you. He pinches the soft flesh on your thighs. "But we both know you're an attention whore. Always wanting to be the center of attention?"

You bite your lip to stop a whimper and look away, unwilling to admit that Daishou is completely right. You're already squirming in anticipation and delight. How cute, Daishou savors before deftly undoing the first two buttons of your crisp blouse. He has all of your clothes memorized, and how to take them off in the least amount of steps. At this point, it's completely second nature, and even if it isn't, the particular outfit you are wearing today has a special pedestal in Daishou's memory of interests. He pulls the tucked fabric apart to expose your delicate neckline and the soft curves of your breasts in the bra.

Oh, this one? What a coincidence then. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and deeply inhales the scent of your lingering fragrance. His hot breath and tantalizing lips drag across your collarbone, brushing your sensitive skin.

"So fucking sexy. Let's put on a show shall we?"

The thread snaps.

You harshly tug on the Daishou’s tie and capture his lips with yours. Daishou presses his body even closer, resting a forearm right above your head to cage you against the elevator wall. You wrap your arms around his neck, threading your fingers through his hair, as you meld into the searing kiss. The zipper of your skirt is tugged and the fabric is pushed up to your waist. His hand snakes up your thigh and a thumb hooks the side of your panties, pulling the soaked scrap down.

"Step," he instructs, pulling your panties down all the way and guiding your heeled feet out. "Don't want them dropping on the floor," he says, tucking the bunched fabric into his shirt pocket.

"Touch me, please," you beg, pulling Daishou back to you. You grab his hand and lead him to between your legs, grinding yourself against his thick fingers for some relief.

“No need to rush, the elevator isn't getting fixed anytime soon," he coos, "We're not going to get distracted this time."

Daishou spreads your lips apart and rubs along your sensitive bud, coating his digits with your slick. "Fuck, you're so wet already," he marvels before slipping a finger in and then another.

Daishou pumps his fingers in and out of your sopping pussy, occasionally dragging over to circle your clit. "That's it, isn't it?" he groans, feeling your walls clench around his fingers when he finds the spot that has you falling apart into streams of whines and mewls.

Daishou withdraws his fingers and brings the glistening digits up for you to see. "How much are you enjoying this? Wanting to be fucked in an elevator, watched by who knows who behind that camera."

You whimper and watch Daishou take the coated fingers in his mouth, licking off every drop of you. "You taste so good," he breathes, before pulling you into a kiss and letting you have a taste of your own arousal.

You break out of the kiss and turn around, resting your hands on the handrail. "S-Suguru, want you in me," you beg. You bend over just enough for your Daishou to see how much more wet you've gotten from tasting yourself on him. Your glistening hole is dripping and desperately clenching around nothing.

"Patience, princess." Daishou quickly unbuckles his belt and lets the cock pressing against his tight slacks spring free. He prepares to give himself a few more strokes but you reach behind and slap his hand away, replacing the hand on his cock with your own.

"Fuck," he groans, bucking his hips into your hands. "Always the impatient one."

"Hurry...please."

The building anticipation is making your knees weak and head dizzy already. You keep both hands on the handrails for support and squirm over trying to better line yourself for that thickness you need to fill your hole.

"Shit, stop teasing me!"

Beep.

The emergency intercom you pressed when the elevator first malfunctioned finally lights up. The line connects after a moment of static and radio noise and temporarily shocks a thread of rationality into your thoughts.

"Hello? Hello? Are we connected now, finally? Hello? Can you hear me?" the voice urges from the other end.

"Ah-" you gasp out, feeling Daishou fingers draw out slow circles on your clit. You press your lips tightly together to muffle a moan.

"Ma'am? Ma'am, can you hear me?"

Daishou leans next to your ear. "Answer them, sweetheart." The tip of his cock teases the entrance of your pussy, running along the wet lips. "Do well and I'll give it to you."

You manage, with difficulty, squeak out, "Y-yes!"

"Good girl."

Your legs buckle slightly when you feel Daishou's thick cock being pushed into you, finally giving you the gratification you have been craving during Daishou's ministrations.

"Oh, careful now, don't want you falling over," Daishou's grip on your hips tightens and he groans at how warm, wet and tight you are around him. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good," he mutters under his breath.

The speaker buzzes again. "Great, finally connected. Ma'am are you doing okay still?"

"Yes!" you cry out as Daishou gives a firm and deep thrust; a wave of pleasure shoots through you.

"Don't panic, our team is already coming—" The line disconnects as abruptly.

Daishou revels at how your soft walls hug and clench around him. By all means, he didn't expect the interruption happening at all. It seems like you are not the only impatient person, he wonders, before flashing a nasty look at the camera in the corner and flipping said object off.

"Come on, princess,” he encourages and pats the side of your ass lightly. “Let me hear how pretty you sound."

"Sugu—" you gasp out, feeling the tip of his cock rocking into you. "R-right there right, ah—"

"Yea, you like that?" Daishou groans, pushing into you again feeling your walls clamp around him so tightly. So perfectly. It's addicting and all he can do is thrust in and out, over and over again. Each time seeking out the sounds of your pretty moans when you are completely filled and stuffed with him.

Lewd squelches and the slaps of skin meeting flesh fill the elevator space, along with Daishou’s grunts and your pants. Your hips meet each of Daishou’s thrusts in perfect rhythm, taking his entire length until the base. You can feel each stroke dragging along your walls, the size and length of his cock pushing against your tightness and prodding your cervix.

Neither of you can bother with any other distractions now that bliss is just teetering on the edge. Daishou pulls out and turns you around so you face him. He then scoops you up from under your ass with your legs spread over his forearms and hoists you up against the elevator wall. You feel the stinging cold from the cylindrical edge of the handrail as a dubious support against your heated skin.

"Suguru!" you squeal out, "I'll fall! I'll—"

"I got you, don't worry," Daishou reassures, "You're okay, I won't let you fall."

Once he feels your arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders, Daishou slides into you again with a loud squelch.

"We're right outside now! Won't be long before we get you two out." A loud voice calls out from beyond the shut elevator doors.

"Smile for the camera, princess," Daishou encourages before picking up the pace, chasing the high that's just around the corner. His thrusts become faster and rougher, hitting your sweet spot deep inside you over and over again making your mind spin. The countless reflected images of Daishou's unrelenting pursuit and speed, and the expression of your fucked out face collide together in a blurry, infinite kaleidoscope.

“Gonna cum! Gonna-”

All thoughts leave your mind with each ragged breath as you near your own edge. You can only cling onto Daishou tightly, nails digging into his shoulder and back. You don't hear the sounds of mechanical whirring outside the elevator. Whatever it is that the people are shouting outside does not matter. The bright lights don't make any sense to you anymore. You don't even remember what Daishou Suguru looks like.

The blank stare from the camera is the last thing you see before you squeeze your eyes shut, face tucked in the crook of Daishou’s neck, and body feeling like putty in his arms. All that's left is the euphoria sparking through and broken syllabylic babbles you struggle to utter out.

With a few final thrusts, Daishou grunts and pulls you completely flush against his hips, finally spilling himself into you. Release after a long day never feels this sweet, Daishou muses as he holds your languid body close. Each deep breath you take only pushes your soft breast against his chest, and Daishou can feel your spasming walls still hugging him. He peppers a few kisses on your sweat covered brow. So good, so fucking good.

The voices and mechanical whirs outside interrupt Daishou’s moment.

That’s right, we’re still in this damn elevator. Daishou carefully pulls out his softened and twitching cock and lowers your wobbly form down from your make-shift seat. He takes a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the drool from your face then lightly dab away the trail of mixed fluids seeping out of your puffy cunt. The overly saturated handkerchief does a poor job soaking away the mess the two of you made.

Daishou reaches for the crumpled panties he shoved into the shirt pocket, but decides against letting you wear it. In your current state, your legs are like a newborn deer, barely able to support you let alone try to maneuver into underwear.

"Once we get back to my place, I'll draw us a bath.”

The increasingly loud mechanical clamor and sounds of the elevator workers pull you out of your daze for a moment too. You try to fumble around and haphazardly button your shirt, but the buttons miss their proper buttonhole by one. You pout and look at Daishou who just buckled his belt and tucked in the edges of his crumpled shirt. He looks ready for a client meeting already, if not for the obvious smell of sex clinging into him.

Daishou chuckles at your state and helps you slip into his long coat. He kisses your brow again in apology. "Sorry baby, just bear with it for a moment."

"Hungry."

"Yes, yes. I'll order your favorite too, like I promised."

You nod, pleased with his answer.

Ding.

The doors of the elevator open, to the relief of the elevator workers outside. They were in the process of getting ready to pry the doors open, but it seems like the elevator is back to normal already.

"Sir, Ma'am, we apologize for our tardiness."

Daishou waves a hand. "Not at all, it was fine. My girlfriend," he nods to your hidden form in the coat, "a bit frazzled, that's all."

Daishou's coat is like a bathrobe and hides absolutely everything. Turn up the collar, hide your face in Daishou's neck, and no one can see the mess that you are still underneath the thick layer. If they don't look, they won't know about the cum that's already dripping out and trailing down the curves of your legs into your scuffed heels.

"Is she okay? If there are any problems, we can direct you to-"

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of her. Thanks for helping fix the elevator." Not that there was anything wrong with it to begin with.

"We'll be inspecting all the elevators in the building as well. We assure you this will never happen again."

The musty smell of sweat and sex is all that lingers in the elevator, but it'll dissipate soon enough. Maybe there are tiny puddles of your juices on the tiles but the 5 A.M. cleaning workers will wipe it all away. By tomorrow, the elevator and rest of the building will be just the way it always is again. The stainless steel is cold, and the glass panels are pristine. In the early hours of the morning, leather shoes and heels will be strutting around on the marbled floors. Phone calls. Printers. Clients. Meetings. And more overtime.

Daishou smirks to himself, supporting just about your entire weight. His phone rings in his coat pocket. He reaches for the device and answers the call. Those bastards.

"Heh, glad you enjoyed the show you fucker. And tell Kenma, 'that was a dick move he pulled back there.'"

He listens to the response from the other line.

"Yea sure, thanks for hacking the system...uh huh, tell him to cum in your dirty sock-rag then...yea whatever, go eat shit."

Daishou ends the call and shoves the phone into his pocket.

"Su-gu-ru..." you mumble.

"Yes princess?"

"...Pitchbook..."

Daishou presses a light kiss to your forehead. "Don't worry about it, sweetheart."

Even all fucked out, you still manage to not forget about corporate responsibilities, some overachieving show-off you are. After getting you cleaned up and warm, he'll finish up any remaining work. Daishou Suguru works quickly. He works efficiently.

#haikyuu smut #hq smut #daishou x reader smut #daishou smut #daishou x reader #tw exhibitionism #tw voyeurism #emi.freshtea #ch daishou #in celebration of cleaning up the main whooowheeewhoo #🍵.daishou

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merakiaes · 4 years

Text

In The Heat Of The Moment - Aaron Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Requested: By @forgottenword

Prompts: #3 from the common trope-list.

Warnings/notes: Unprotected sex. Wrap it before you tap it, kids. I’m extremely bad at writing smut so I apologize in advance for the shitty quality😩 I want to stress that my smut requests are CLOSED, this was an only exception because I liked the concept, so please don’t send in smut requests because hey will be deleted. This turned out a lot longer than I planned but oh well. Please leave a comment and let me know what you think. Thank you <3 NOT PROOFREAD

Wordcount: 7175

Summary: When having a fever and being caught in the rain, you’re bound to be freezing and in need of heat. And what better way to get warmed up than by sharing a bed with your boss?

You and Aaron Hotchner had never gotten along as well as co-workers should in your line of work. You were great agents, great people, when you were separated. But when you were together… Well, let’s just say that it was never a pretty sight.

You had joined the BAU around the same time and despite only being beginners back then, you were both great at what you did. But putting you together on your first job was everything but a match made in heaven.

You were a bit younger than him and you were used to being criticized by men your entire life, so when working with Hotch turned out to be no different, you became competitive and determined to show your worth to him and your fellow agents.

You could easily just shoot your enemy if you ever felt threatened in the field, but when it came to Hotch, your co-worker, your only line of defense was your quick-witted sarcasm.

In Hotch’s eyes, you behaved like a child from the start and he wanted nothing more than to just have you transferred, but the longer you worked together, the more used to it he got.

He still didn’t like it though, not one bit, but it was bearable back when you’d had Gideon to step in and calmly settle your differences whenever those popped up. Which, let’s be honest, was often.

But now he was gone and Hotch had stepped up to take the leading position, and even though you hadn’t been interested in that position, yourself, you hated that he now had the higher ground and the perfect shot to make your life a living hell just like you had, knowingly, made his.

If you wanted to go to the crime scene, he sent you to question potential witnesses. If you wanted to question potential witnesses, he sent you to the crime scene. If you specifically asked to do something, he made you do the exact opposite and if you specifically asked not to do something, that’s exactly what he forced you to do. And now that he was your superior rather than your equal, you were in no place to argue, no matter how much you wanted to.

You wouldn’t go as far as to say you hated each other; you respected him and he respected you, but you just couldn’t stand each other and the way the two of you always seemed to criticize the other’s capability of getting the job done.

He always underestimated you and condescendingly shook his head at your every move, and you just couldn’t help but run your mouth about how he did everything wrong when you were with him.

It could be amusing to see you bicker, to say the least, but eventually, the team was starting to get tired of the way your disagreements and inability to work together was constantly threatening to ruin the case, so they were more than relieved when, finally, the two of you were beginning to settle down.

When Haley filed for a divorce, you were the only one on the team who didn’t change your entire persona. While the others walked on eggshells around him, always afraid to say the wrong thing and make him snap, you remained your usual big-mouthed, snarky self, never letting him catch a break.

Up until then, you had never been anything other than a major pain in his ass, but under these circumstances, the fact that you didn’t go out of your way to feel sorry for him provided a kind of security for him.

You approached him about it once after a case on which he had shown himself more agitated and reckless than usual, telling him that he could talk to you if he wanted to, but after that, you just left him alone to deal with everything the way he wanted to.

Knowing he had the support but also being given the choice to choose on his own rather than having the support forced upon him was just what he needed and in your own, dysfunctional way, you grew closer because of it.

He started to willingly take you along during cases while he sent the others to deal with other aspects, as opposed to the past where the last thing he wanted was to be stuck with just you, knowing you’d find some way to go against his wishes just to spite him.

He’d always known that you were a great person and an even greater agent and profiler, even though he would never admit it out loud, but it was only after his divorce that he really came to see you in a different light.

However, despite his newfound fondness of you, there were still rules to be followed; ones he, as a leader, could not look past if broken.

One of the most important rules were that you couldn’t get attached or emotionally involved in a case. Being able to remain objective was of the utmost importance in order to not risk jeopardizing the entire investigation and this specifically, you’d never had a problem with.

You felt for the families and victims of course, but you knew that in order to do your job, you had to close yourself off to the grief they were feeling. Struggling with this was more common for the others on the team, but you did alright.

But then there was the rule that emphasized the importance of staying at home or at least in the office if you ever happened to get sick, and the most important rule, at least for you, not to lie or go against your boss’s orders. And you had broken both of them.

It had started out with a light cough and a runny nose; nothing too alarming seeing as it could easily pass for allergies, which just so happened to be the excuse you used when confronted about it.

Eventually the cough disappeared and your nose dried up, leading you to believe that the excuse you had been telling everyone for three days straight could actually be the truth, but then came the fever, out of nowhere in the middle of the night.

You laid awake trembling and sweating through your sheets both at the same time, and yet, you pulled your ass out of bed the next morning and got to work, completely ignoring the fact that you were obviously not well.

And as was only natural, the light fever got worse and brought several other complications with it as you kept pushing yourself in the field. You became short of breath easier and your ears started hurting, bringing back the terrible memories from your childhood back when you’d get the worst ear infections on a frequent basis for years.

But you’d just been invited into a new case, one that took longer than they usually did and one that you just so happened to get attached to, against your better judgement. You kept getting sicker and you tried your hardest to hide it, because you just couldn’t leave your team in those desperate times.

You were also, as you always had been, too stubborn to admit the fact that you needed help and rest, and so you sucked it up and pretended that you were fine, something that seemed to go unnoticed as the others were just as caught up in the job and determined to get to the bottom of the case as you were.

And you did, get to the bottom of it, as you always did. You solved the case, identified and tracked down the unsub and went in for the arrest.

Hotch and Prentiss went around the back and you and Reid went in through the house while Morgan and Rossi stood by the police cars, waiting for Hotch’s orders to come in.

You and Reid were the ones to find the man first, catching him off-guard and holding him at gunpoint until Hotch and Prentiss appeared from the back and handcuffed him.

You were able to complete the arrest and save the hostage before anything could happen to her, and luckily, the state you were in hadn’t affected the case nor your ability to work.

But once everything was safe, you subconsciously let down the façade you had been putting on for the past few days and as you walked out of the house, a sudden wave of dizziness hit you and sent you falling to the ground before you had even reached the cars.

Morgan, having had his eyes on you when you walked out, was the first one to witness it and rushed to your side, alerting your fellow team members. By then, you were knocked out cold from the exhaustion and as the medics at the scene rushed up, they noted aloud that you had a very high fever and had to get to the hospital.

You were rushed there in the ambulance that had originally been for the hostage should she have needed to be treated, and as you laid unconscious, Hotch sat by your side, glaring at you despite the fact that you couldn’t even see it.

Luckily, your carelessness hadn’t come in the way of the case as you hadn’t hit rock bottom until it was all over, but in a worst case scenario it could’ve affected your ability to properly do your job which was exactly why the rules said you couldn’t work when sick.

But despite the fact that everything had worked out, you had gone against the rules by hiding your sickness and working despite it, which was the sole reason of your sudden collapse and also the reason that Hotch was now forced to drive all the way back to Quantico as the doctor hadn’t cleared you for flying with your ear infection, and it was safe to say that he was not happy about it.

“You put the entire team in danger today.” He spoke for the first time since you had sat down in the car, in which you had been seated for the past forty minutes.

Forty, painfully slow minutes of thick and tense silence, both of you just waiting in dread for the argument that was sure to come.

But even then, now that the silence had been broken, you didn’t feel any better.

“I know.” You replied simply from where you sat beside him in the passenger seat.

You stared out the window lazily, slumped in your seat and breathing slowly, each breath fogging up the glass and dimming the view of the darkening sky outside.

Your ears picked up on the sound of crunching leather, no doubt being caused by Hotch’s grip tightening on the steering wheel. “Is that all you have to say?” He asked bitterly. Annoyance was radiating off of him and the tone in his voice only made its existence more evident.

An unintentional sigh of exhaustion left your lips and for the first time, you dared to turn your head to look at him. “What do you want me to do?” You asked. “I made a mistake and I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” He wasted no time in answering, not even bothering to look at you, and this time you could see with your own eyes how his grip on the wheel hardened, his knuckles turning white.

You turned your attention back to the window and let out another long breath through your nose, but Hotch was nowhere near finished.

“What if your fever had caused you to black out in the middle of the arrest? You could’ve been ambushed from behind, too weak to fight back, and died. Reid would’ve been on his own, without backup, and could’ve died.”

Once again you turned your head to look at him, your face wiped free of emotion as you stared into his side profile.

“It’s of the utmost importance that we’re always on top of our game. We can not afford to take chances like these. You can’t-“ He sighed, sparing you the briefest of glances. “You can’t lie to me, to us, about the state of your health. By doing so, not only are you endangering yourself, but you’re endangering us all. The team, and the hostages. I won’t be able to look past this, my hands will be tied of it comes down to an evaluation.”

He wanted you to feel guilty and you understood, because you knew that you had been stupid and reckless and that you had behaved inappropriately and done what you just couldn’t do in this line of work. But no matter how deep and thick the guilt settled in the pit of your stomach, you knew his threats of ‘not being able to look past it’ were empty.

After all, he had done the exact same thing on more than one occasion since the divorce; gotten so indulged in the case at hand that he had recklessly and inappropriately broken protocol, because of which he had taken a lot of heat lately.

But still, the string you were still holding on to, the string of getting to keep your job, was short and weak, and the only thing keeping you quiet, something Hotch was taking full advantage of.

He kept scolding you for at least five more minutes, but you weren’t listening to any of it, too distracted by the painful pressure in your ears and completely out of it, barely even able to hang on to reality in your disoriented and feverish state.

The heat in the car was cranked up to the max, and yet you were shivering in your seat, shrinking back into your thin sweater as far as you could in a desperate attempt to preserve your bodily heat.

But no matter how hot your skin was to the touch, you were freezing, and it wasn’t until the weather outside took a complete three-sixty turn, forcing Hotch to put his disapproving scolding on hold in order to concentrate on not driving you into a ditch in the blinding rain, that he took the time to take note of your state.

In any other case you would’ve been all too aware of his eyes on you, but right now, you could barely even stay awake.

The pain in your ears was for the most part gone for the moment, but the fever only seemed to have gotten worse, and it showed in more ways than one. And it was in the way you had barely said a word to him, which was a near never-occurring thing, that Hotch realized that you really weren’t well.

An unsure silence fell as a blanket over the car for a moment as his eyes kept flickering back and forth between the road and you, where you were barely able to keep your own eyes open.

“Are you alright?” He finally questioned and he waited for a long moment for you to answer, and when he got none, he cautiously moved his hand out to touch your knee. “(Y/N).”

Your eyes shot open and your head whipped around to face him at the sound of your name and the feeling of his hand on your leg. “Hm?” You asked in an absent manner, instantly regretting your hasty movements when your head started throbbing.

“Are you alright?” He repeated, eyebrows creasing in worry when you raised your hand to your forehead and closed your eyes.

You took a steady breath, trying to calm your spinning head, before carefully shaking it. “No.”

“Are you ears hurting?”

“My head.” You took another breath, squeezing your eyes shut at the painful jabbing at the side of your head, feeling them sting like they would when you’d spent hours upon hours crying.

Hotch watched from the side as you rubbed your forehead and temples, taking note of how hard you were squeezing your eyes shut and how badly you were shivering. Slowly but surely, he felt the anger he had previously been feeling melting off.

He said nothing else, giving your sullen face a last glance before turning his attention back to the road in front of him. But his hand didn’t move, remaining at your knee where his thumb rubbed soft, absentminded circles as an attempt to offer you some comfort.

For a second it made your heart flutter like never before, but soon enough, you’d forgotten all about it, only being able to focus on how incredibly shitty you were feeling. Not only physically, but mentally too, because Hotch had been right about everything he had said.

You were sweating like crazy, feeling trapped in the car where you couldn’t escape your thoughts and the guilt that was getting bigger by the minute, and you wanted nothing more than to get out and breathe some fresh air.

So when Hotch stopped at a gas station to fill up the tank and get some water and painkillers for your head, you did just that, not even being able to process the fact that the rain was still pouring down until it was too late.

You stood with your back leaned against the car, hugging yourself tightly and shivering even more than before as your clothes were now soaked, but the crisp air felt nice and was a blessing for your aching head.

Hotch came out of the gas station three minutes later and spotted you immediately, wasting no time in breaking into a run in your direction.

“What are you doing?! You’re already sick!” He yelled over the sound of rain harshly colliding into the exterior of the car.

You didn’t have the energy to fight back, simply continuing to rub your forehead. “I’m sorry, it was so stuffed in there, I needed to get out.” You mumbled silently, and he sighed, walking around you to open your car door.

“Get back in the car.” He ordered, and you did as told, allowing him to help you inside and waiting for him to close the door behind you before leaning against it.

He quickly got in in the driver’s seat and wasted no time in starting the car and cranking the heat up the little way further that was possible, throwing the bottle of water and packet of painkillers into the backseat.

“You’re shaking, we need to get you dry and warm.” He said as he fuzzed over you, silently urging you to take off your outer layer and helping you do so.

He drove out of the gas station once you were properly situated again, holding your hands in his in an attempt to warm them up.

You drove for a while longer and soon enough, Hotch took a right and parked the car. But you were half asleep and completely out of it, barely even able to process that he’d left you until the door you were leaning against opened, causing you to fall right into his chest and forcing you awake.

“Here, take this.” He wasted no time in draping you in a thick, scratchy blanket that you’d never seen before.

Nevertheless, you didn’t protest, getting out of the car and staying glued to his side as he walked you in the direction of the hotel you were now apparently parked in front of.

Once you reached the door to the room you guessed he’d fixed you for the night, he unlocked the door, ushered you inside and locked the door behind you.

Out of pure instinct, your hand moved to the light switch right next to the front door, only to discover that the power was out.

You were still dizzy, your skin burning hot but freezing to your core, but you were awake now, and all you wanted was a hot shower, so your second instinct was to head into the bathroom to test the water, and just your luck, the hot water was gone, as well.

Shivering, you turned back to face the entirety of the room, the only light in sight being the light of the moon streaming in through the windows and Hotch’s phone as he used it to find his way around.

“There’s no hot water.” You deadpanned, hugging yourself close and standing still in the middle of the room.

“The power is out and there’s a flood down the road, the woman at the counter said it could take a while for it to return so we’ll have to make do with what we’ve got in the meanwhile and get you out of your wet clothes.” Hotch wasted no time in replying as he busied himself with un-making one of the two beds.

He didn’t even spare you as much as a glance but you watched him for a moment longer, taking in his hurried movements as he ripped the blankets of the bed you presumed would be his, instead placing them on the bed with your name on it.

You knew he could feel your eyes on him, but when he didn’t turn around, you let out a breath through your nose and uncrossed your arms from over your chest, instead beginning to undress yourself.

And let me tell you, that’s not an easy task when you’re shivering like a chihuahua and have an a hundred and three degree fever and the current strength of an infant.

Your arms were heavy, almost too heavy to lift, and your fingers trembled when you began working on the buttons of your shirt. You tried your hardest to see what you were doing but the lack of light in the room made it hard, and the more you strained your eyes, the more intense your headache and dizziness got.

By now, Hotch had finished setting up your bed and turned around to see you struggling, taking a few small steps in your direction.

“Do you need help?” He asked, and you dropped your hands to your sides.

“Yeah.”

He walked up to you and wasted no time in getting to work on your buttons. You watched his face the entire time, even in your feverish daze being able to pick up on how hard he was trying to focus his eyes on his fingers in a respectful manner.

Once the last button came undone, you turned around and allowed him to pull the article of clothing off your body, the snug fabric releasing a creaking sound as it was pulled off your wet skin.

Hotch wordlessly walked over to the desk placed in the room and hung the shirt over the back of a chair, while you went to work on your pants.

Luckily, this piece of clothing only had one button and you managed to get it undone without too much trouble, sitting down on your bed and pulling them off – this part taking a bit more struggle seeing as they were stuck to your skin just like the shirt had been.

But you managed and wasted no time in crawling under the multitude of blankets that Hotch had neatly piled up on the bed, tucking yourself in as tightly as possible and pulling them up to your nose in an attempt to fill the inside of the cocoon with warm air.

It worked to an extent, your skin quickly regaining its previous heat and feeling so hot to the touch that one could’ve easily thought that you were on the verge of burning up.

But it did nothing to warm your core, and no matter how hard you tried keeping the shivers at bay by relaxing your body and keeping your breaths steady, it was to no use.

You laid there in silence for a good moment, becoming unaware of your surroundings once again, including the pair of eyes burning into the side of your face from across the room.

Hotch watched you closely while he followed his own advice and discarded his wet shirt, unbuckling his belt, hanging it on a chair and kicking off his shoes and socks.

Dressed now only in his damp slacks, he moved to grab the bottle of water and painkillers that he’d gotten from the gas station, and continued to the side of your bed, where he crouched down in front of you.

“Take this.” He instructed and you opened your eyes, pushing yourself up with all your might so that you could take the outstretched items from his hand.

You swallowed the pill with two gulps of water and fell right back into bed once he had taken the bottle back, pulling the blankets up to your nose again.

He stood back up to his full height and as a strong shiver went down your spine, the words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

“I need more heat, this isn’t enough. You’ll have to lay with me.”

Hotch’s face pulled into one of mild surprise at the sound of your unexpected words, and he instantly started protesting. “I don’t think-“

But you interrupted, staring up at him with those angry eyes that he so often found himself at the receiving end of. “I’m freezing my ass off and you’re cold, too. I’m not about to let you sleep without blankets. It’s just until the power and hot water comes back.”

He stared back at you, face ever so stoic. “Fine.” He gave in, and only then did you soften your glare.

You closed your eyes as he began removing his pants, slowly scooting back on the bed to make room for him, and you couldn’t help but let out a breath of relief when he lifted the covers and slid in next to you.

Your skin was hot with fever but somehow, his was even hotter, burning you to the touch.

You were still freezing, but as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, you instantly found it easier to relax, your shivering toning down a great deal.

Out of pure instinct, you snuggled further into his chest and you could feel on the stiffness of his body that he was uncomfortable and unsure of how to react in the situation you’d so inconveniently found yourself in.

Opening your eyes as far as your heavy eyelids would let you, you found him to be staring up into the roof. But the second he felt your heavy gaze on him, he turned his head to the side to meet your eyes.

Heat flushed through your entire body and you had been aroused enough times to recognize the feeling.

You knew all of this had started off innocent, a person simply trying to warm up another person as an act of kindness and basic human decency, and you never would’ve had these impure thoughts about him in any other situation, but your body was reacting on its own to the feeling of his skin against yours, and so was his.

Your faces were close to each other, mere inches apart, and before you were able to stop yourself, you leaned in closer and brushed your lips against his.

He retaliated immediately, pulling back and looking down at you with an unreadable expression written all over his face.

He told himself that the fever was making you confused and disoriented, but when you moved back in for a second attempt, this time with a lot more clarity in your eyes and confidence in your movements, he didn’t pull back.

You remained still for the entirety of the kiss, your lips just pressed against each other’s with little to no extended movements. When you came apart again, your breaths were heavy but the sound of your heart beating loudly in your ears was the only thing you could hear.

You stared into each other’s eyes and your eyes momentarily fluttered shut when he brought his hand up and grazed your lower lip with his thumb.

And then his lips were on yours again, and this time you just kept going.

His hands cradled your face and you laid down flat on your back, wrapping your arms around his neck and opening your legs to allow him to move on top of you. You pulled him impossibly close, a surge of sudden energy bursting through your entire body.

He was a gentleman at heart but he didn’t bother asking you if you were sure, knowing better than anyone that you were more than capable of telling him if you weren’t. You were both adults, you knew exactly what you were doing.

You’d had your fair share of rendezvouses throughout your life, but none had left you feeling like this.

Passion, desperation, fervor, urgency, impatience, hunger, eagerness, and every single other synonym that could be used to describe the lustful attraction between two people were currently battling in your body.

But more present than any other feeling was the anger; anger directed at you, fueled by the way you had put yourself and your entire team at risk by lying about the state of your health, and anger directed at him, fueled by the way he had always underestimated you and doubted your abilities.

You were both furious in all ways possible and neither of you had any plans on stopping, his hands already making their way down your body and heading straight for the direction of the place where you needed him the most.

His hands were warm but yours were cold, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake as they traveled his arms, chest, shoulders and neck.

One of your hands stayed at his neck, tracing light touches over his throat and jaw, while the other one moved down the length of your own body to meet with his where it was hovering above the line of your underwear.

You grabbed a hold of it and pushed his palm flat against the bottom of your stomach, urging him to continue, and he didn’t waste a second, dipping his hand inside the waistband of the thin fabric that was still wet from the rain and resting uncomfortably against your skin.

Breath getting caught in your throat and heart palpitating in your chest, you pushed your head back into the pillow, your eyes falling shut at the pleasurable feeling of his fingers finding your core, your lips coming apart in the process.

Instead, his face bent down and nuzzled the crook of your neck, lips leaving slow kisses behind as he adjusted his hand.

It obviously wasn’t going as smoothly as he’d like though, the wet fabric getting caught on his skin and causing a frustrated sound to escape his throat.

“These need to go.” He mumbled into the skin of your shoulder and you eagerly nodded, completely ignoring the headache that was still going strong.

You raised your hips to allow him access, and he wasted no time in pushing the underwear off your legs, leaving you to shake them off your feet.

They got lost somewhere underneath the numerous blankets but you couldn’t care less, your hands hurrying down to the waistband of his boxers.

He drew in a breath at the feeling of your icy cold fingers, but made no move to stop you, helping you in ridding himself of the only remaining clothing he had on and then moving on to unclasp your bra, carelessly throwing it onto the floor and latching his lips back onto yours.

His hand returned to your heat and just like he had done mere seconds before, you sucked in a sharp breath as his fingers dipped in, running a line up your folds before pushing their way inside.

He hooked his finger down into your entrance to gather some of your wetness, bringing it up all the way along your slit and stopping only when he reached the sensitive bundle of nerves that was just throbbing with need.

That’s when the first moan of many to come left your lips, being muffled into the kiss and your stomach exploding with butterflies.

But just like with any other aspect of your life, you were impatient, so when he pushed a finger inside of you, you broke free of the kiss and shook your head, reaching your hand down to stop him by his wrist.

“No, you’re going too slow.” You panted, pulling his hand away and looking into his darkened eyes. “I need you, now.”

Your voice thinned into a whisper toward the end and you brought your hands back up to his face.

He remained still for a few seconds, just looking at you with his usual stoic expression and pursed lips, but the soon dipped down to meet your face again, brushing his lips against yours so lightly you could barely feel it, before pressing down with more force.

What started off as a close-mothed kiss quickly turned into an open-mouthed one, and you moved down on the mattress, raising your legs to wrap them around his waist as he positioned himself at your entrance.

He wasn’t fully erected yet, as was to be expected seeing as you had barely touched him and things had moved so quickly, but the second he was fully sheathed inside of you, that changed in an instant.

The feeling of being filled so perfectly caused your face to screw up in pleasure and he couldn’t help but let a small groan slip past his lips, really showing how long it had been since he last partook in sexual activities.

But he wasn’t the only one who had gone untouched for a long period of time. When you worked a job as stressful and time-consuming as yours, it was hard to find enough spare time to get out and meet any potential lovers, so it was safe to say that it had been just as long for you as it had for him and it didn’t take long for you to let out a moan to match his own.

He wasted no time in starting to move, encouraged to do so by the way your legs tightened around his hips to pull him in deeper.

You clung to him with all your might as he slowly but surely picked up his pace and found a good rhythm, squeezing your eyes shut and being reminded of the fever you still had when feeling the brims of your eyes sting.

Your hands moved to grasp at the back of his head and you pressed your lips against his, baiting a groan from his throat when tightening your grip on the strands of raven hair you held between your fingers.

His movements were confident and his lips moved skillfully from yours to your jaw, down to your neck before settling in the crook of your neck.

One of his hands moved from the mattress to hold on to the headboard of the bed and his toned arm flexing and unflexing right over your face was without a doubt the most attractive sight you’d ever seen.

“Hotch...” You moaned out between thrusts, and he grumbled in return.

“Aaron.” He corrected you darkly, and you drew in a gasp of air at the sound.

“Aaron-” You began repeating, but was quickly cut off by your own moan and after that, no more words were spoken.

The heavy breaths he released in the crook between your neck and shoulder only added to the already existing dampness on your skin, courtesy of the fever that you had almost forgotten was still there, and it was only now that the heat that had previously been restricted to the outer layer of your skin caught up with the rest of your body and made its way into your core.

The only sounds that could be heard was the heavy rain smattering on the metal ceiling outside your room, mixing in with the pants and low moans and groans escaping your lips, the creaking of the headboard that Hotch was holding on to for dear life, and the slapping of skin on skin.

He didn’t slow down once and not as much as a word was spoken, every emotion and feeling instead being voiced in sounds of pleasure and the occasional kiss when he brought his head up from your neck for air.

You got completely lost in the pleasure and you had no idea how long you went on for, but soon enough, you were beginning to get sore, the pleasure starting to switch into a mild discomfort.

But as if right on cue, the guttural groans muffling into your damp skin became more frequent, and before you knew it, Hotch’s entire body tensed up as he reached his climax and released inside of you.

But you weren’t quite there yet, never having been able to orgasm just by penetration.

You didn’t know how he was able to do both at the same time, but as he rode out his high, Hotch brought his hand down from the headboard and in between your bodies at the same time, heading right for the throbbing bundle of nerves where he wasted no time in getting to work.

That was the final touch you needed for your stomach to begin to turn. The combination of the way he was hitting the perfect spot over and over again and his thumb showing no mercy was so intense that you reached your high in no time.

You pressed your face into his neck just like he was doing yours, your fingers tugging on his hair so harshly that you probably crossed the line between pleasurable and painful. But he didn’t make note on it, picking up his pace as a string of curses left your lips, blending with your moans and mixing with his name, something he was clearly liking the sound of.

And just as you toppled of the edge, bright flashes flashing on the inside of your eyelids as your entire stomach pulled into a tight knot, the lights in the ceiling of the room flashed as well, the radiator over by the window buzzing to life as the power returned.

Talk about timing.

He kept on pumping into you with sloppy, lazy thrusts as you rode out your high and as soon as he felt you relax around him again, his entire body slumped against yours in a moment of exhaustion.

You laid limp, chest rising and falling in quick pants as you caught your breath. His hand moved up to hold himself upright by the head of the bed and your hands remained at the back of his neck, fingers gently pulling through his hair that was now damp with sweat.

After a moment of silence, he moved off of you, allowing you to properly breathe.

“How’s your head?” He asked.

His voice was strained and it was clear that now that the arousal was gone and everything was over and done with, neither of you had any idea of how to act.

Pulling one of the blankets up to your shoulders and holding it in place over you previously exposed chest, you cleared your throat.

“All good.” You replied breathlessly and just then, reality came crashing back down, an involuntary shiver going down your spine and rocking your entire body as it became aware of the chilliness of the air around you.

He caught on to this at once and turned his head to look at you with a deadpanned expression. “You’re still shivering, you should go take a warm shower before you go to sleep.”

His words brought a small snort from your lips. “I’m not shivering, I’m trembling. There’s a difference.” You answered, raising an eyebrow. “But I won’t say no to a shower.” You sighed, and as you wasted no time in beginning to get out of the bed, Hotch averted his eyes to the roof to give you some privacy.

The cold air hit you like a train when you removed the blankets from your body, your shivers becoming worse now with the layer of drying sweat on your skin.

It wasn’t until you stood up that the fever came crashing down on you with full force again, a spell of hot dizziness taking over you. You had to hold on to the wall beside the bed to regain your composure and once you did, you began walking, only then realizing how sore you really were.

As quickly as your quivering legs would take you, you walked into the bathroom and flicked on the light in the ceiling before heading straight for the shower.

As you turned on the faucet this time, you were pleased to discovered that the hot water had returned along with the power, and you closed your eyes in satisfaction even when the water had yet to touch any other part of your body than your fingers.

You remained standing there for a moment, holding yourself upright by the sink while waiting for the water to reach the perfect temperature.

You then brought your hand back to yourself and turned back around as you let the water run behind you.

Hotch was still in your bed, now having moved into a sitting position and absentmindedly fiddling with the watch on his wrist, seeming to be deep in thought.

And you were a profiler. You could tell with no struggle at all what was bothering him; guilt, most likely directed toward Haley as he had just been with another woman for the first time since the divorce.

The fact made you feel all kinds of feelings, and you slowly walked back to the doorway, on which you leaned as you continued watching him from a distance.

“I’m still really cold, you know.” You commented lamely, hoping that he’d take the hint on what you were trying to say.

His head slowly turned in your direction, his eyes tired and lips pulled into a straight line. His eyes wandered your still naked form for the briefest of second, but he quickly caught himself and averted them to yours.

“I thought you said you weren’t cold anymore.” He answered in a monotone voice, and you raised your eyebrows in return.

“Did I? I don’t think I did.” You played, absentmindedly tapping your fingers against the wooden doorframe.

He stared at you for a second, not seeming to care about you in the slightest anymore. But tthe way his lips then pulled into a small smile when looking at you showed you that he did, in fact, catch on to your intent.

And when he wordlessly got out of bed and started walking in your direction, leading you into the shower with a featherlight touch to the small of your back, you knew for a fact that the moment of passion you had just shared had been much more than just an act executed in the heat of the moment.

But if you thought that you were off the hook regarding your irresponsible behavior during the case just because you now happened to have your boss wrapped around your finger, you had another thing coming.

Tagged: @must-be-a-weasley-92 @zizzlekwum @cozytruecrimeaddict @lovelynervouskingdom @rousethemouse

(If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, send me a message, ask or leave a comment)

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch imagine #hotchner #hotchner imagine #hotchner x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #emily prentiss #derek morgan

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

The Elevator ~ BC [M]

WORD COUNT: 2.1K

GENRE: Smut, enemies to lovers, drabble

PAIRING: Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Daddy kink, enemies to lovers, rough sex, hate sex, cream pie, unprotected sex, oral f receiving and M receiving, use of the daddy kink because my friend recently found the ‘baby girl’ comp of Chan and so these ideas sprang to life

AUTHORS NOTE: I don’t really think these things of Chan, I think he’s awesome (I mean I simp for that man so no views on Chan are true)

As if this day couldn't have gotten any worse now you were waiting for an elevator with Bang Chan, you never thought that people could have enemies you thought it was all things that people made up in books but from the moment you meant Chan you knew it had to be true. At first, you didn't think he was that bad a guy, just stressed with work but as time went on you began to realise just how untrue that was. He was one of the most demanding people you'd ever met and if something didn't go his way he would want them to and he was also so mean to everyone except the 'kids'. It annoyed you the way he spoke to you and most of the other people in the JYP building who were just trying to do their job, you'd only been working with them for three months but he already had you wanted to quit your job. Chan noticed you staring at him and he rolled his eyes,

"Cat got your tongue princess," You wanted to gag just to spite him but there was no denying that Chan was handsome. He was incredibly good looking and from what you'd seen he didn't believe it so you had no idea where this was coming from. His eyes moved away from you when the elevator arrived, he headed inside first and you prayed someone would come by and get in with you so it wasn't you alone with him but the universe seemed to hate you enough to let you go at this alone. You'd already had your fill of him that day, he'd done nothing but dig at you for things you were doing wrong around the studio. The music wasn't set up in time, his booth wasn't clean - which wasn't your problem to deal with - the boys weren't working along, they were off doing their own things. Anything he could pinpoint on you he seemed to do that morning.

You pushed the bottom floor button and looked at the floor wanting the ride to hurry up and pace but as if the universe already hadn't expressed how much it hated you the elevator jolted and stopped. The lights began to flicker before turning off and a small light on the buttons panel was the only thing lighting up the elevator,

"What the fuck?" You grumbled bushing the emergency call button for someone to hear you but the bell wasn't even registering that the button was being pushed.

"Hey!" You screaming banging on the doors but there was no use, you were stuck between the 17th and 16th floor,

"Do something!" Chan yelled as he pushed the buttons, you rolled your eyes pushing the button with him but nothing was happening.

"Pry the doors open or something," You stared at him as you looked between your arms and his,

"Between the pair of us who do you think has the muscles to pull that off?" You knew it was bad to snap at him since he was your boss but he was being an idiot, did he seriously think you could pry open the doors when he was the one built the way he was.

"You've noticed my muscles," He smirked but you ignored him going back to pushing the button as he began demanding you to do something else,

"Call someone on your phone-"

"No shit sherlock, let me just take out my phone with oh- look at that. No cell service!" You groaned throwing your phone onto the floor, already having enough of being trapped inside of the small elevator with him. One mirror lined the back wall with a bar on it, you gripped onto the bar trying not to lunge at Chan who was still yelling at you, he was so frustrated with being trapped in here.

"Why don't you push the button again?" He groaned as he tried to pull the doors open,

"Yes, daddy." His arms dropped from the door as his eyes clouded over darkly, he turned around to look at you.

"What did you just say?" You swallowed the lump in your throat as he walked closer to you, within two steps since the elevator wasn't exactly that big for him to go anywhere.

"Y-Yes daddy." A smirk appeared on his lips and he reached his hands out to your face, running his thumb along your cheek you looked up into his eyes wondering what he was doing. Why wasn't he yelling at you like he normally did,

"W-What are you doing?"

"Say it again," He demanded, he bit down on his lip as he heard you say the small name again. It was something he'd mentioned in passing to one of the boys and you must have heard but, hearing you call him daddy had blood rushing to his pants.

"You like that? Calling me daddy?" He gripped your hair in his hand and pulled your head back so your neck was exposed to him, the truth was he'd been sexually frustrated for a while and now that the opportunity was presenting himself...Who was he to deny it?

"Yes," You whispered as he bent down, his lips barely touching your skin and you already whimpered.

"So needy? Just the way I like them." He turned around and turned the camera inside of the lift around so they couldn't see you both and he picked you up.

"Chan-"

"That's not my name," You felt heat rush to your cheeks as he pushed you against the mirrored wall,

"Daddy what are you doing?" He moaned softly hearing it fall from your lips, you could call him that morning day and night if you wanted and he'd take you anywhere, anytime.

"I'm bored, we're alone, I'm horny...You're-" He ran a hand between your legs and could already feel the heat coming from your core,

"Hornier...Hmm? Do you like it when I yell at you?" You nodded shyly and he smirked kissing and sucking on your neck without a second thought about it. He didn't want to think about it, if he did it meant it would have come to an end and he didn't want that yet.

"Stand here," He whispered putting you back down on the floor in the corner of the lift, you watched as he sunk to his knees in front of you and ripped your underwear off from under the skirt you were wearing.

"Chan!" You yelled as he tore your favourite pair of underwear, his eyes darkened as you called him by his name so he slapped the back of your leg,

"Daddy," You corrected yourself whining out as he attached his lips to your clit, staring up at you as he began working his tongue in and out of your already wet core. Moaning against your folds as he tasted you,

"So wet for me, is this what it's like every day?" He pushed two fingers into you curling them as he pushed them into you right up to his knuckle, you rolled your head back against the mirror.

"Y-Yes," You admitted seeing no point in lying to him now that his face was buried in your dripping cunt,

"Good girl," He whispered going back to flicking his tongue in and out of you, you clenched around his tongue as you closed your eyes. Moaning out every time he touched you,

"D-Daddy," You whimpered, your hands falling into his curly brown locks as you pushed him harder against you feeling yourself getting closer with each flick.

"Cum for me baby girl," Your hips bucked at the words and it didn't go unnoticed by Chan who planned on calling you it a lot more from now often. A third finger was inserted and your hips bucked even more against his fingers, hitting your g-spot as your head rolled back.

"S-Shit daddy!" You whimpered feeling the familiar warmth spread throughout your body as your orgasm washed over you. Chan let you ride out your high on his fingers before standing up and sucking his fingers clean.

"My turn," You whispered licking your lips as you sunk to your knees in front of him and began palming him through his trousers. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't imagined how big he was before, a guy like him had to be carrying a big one around and it was true. You took him out of his boxers and your mouth fell open, wondering how you were going to fit all of him into your mouth.

"No teasing," He grunted as he watched you licking your lips, you smiled innocently at him before licking the slit on top of his cock tasting the precum already. His head rolled forward against the cold glass, it had been so long since someone else had touched him like this.

"O-Oh shit," He grunted as you began licking from base to tip, sucking and swirling your tongue around his red tip oozing out precum until he finally had enough and thrust into your mouth hitting the back of your throat.

"Just like that baby girl," The nickname sent a small wave of encouragement through your body and you began to slowly bob your head up and down, hallowing out your cheeks to take more of him into your mouth.

"Such a dirty little bitch, taking me in the elevator when it could start moving at any moment," Your eyes glistened as you looked up at him, a wave sent over him as he began to thrust into your mouth not being able to hold back anymore.

"Ugh fuck your mouth feel so good," He muttered looking down at you as he continued to fuck your throat, your eyes watering every time he hit the back of your throat. You hummed around him sending a vibration through him and he hissed,

"N-No, no don't do that. I'll cum right down your throat." You smirked around his length doing it again but he didn't react well, he pulled out of your mouth and picked you back up again.

"Does the dirty little slut want me to finish in her mouth?!" He pushed you back against the glass and you whimpered wrapping your legs around his waist, wanting him to slot inside of you but he kept himself out, just rubbing his tip along your folds.

"F-Fuck! I want you to fuck me like you hate me, daddy." He grunted hearing you beg for him the way you did and pushed up into you, sinking you down a little as you moaned out.

"Shit," You whispered putting your hands in his hair as he looked into your eyes smirking at you,

"Just as tight around my cock baby girl," You clenched at the nickname and he chuckled darkly, he was going to have a lot of fun with that nickname in the future with you if that was how you reacted to it each time.

"Please move," You whimpered looking into his eyes as he began to thrust in and out of you roughly, holding onto you tightly as he rocked his hips as hard as he could when the elevator began to move,

"You better cum quick baby girl or everyone is going to see you getting stuffed by your bosses cock." You clenched and he groaned,

"You want that? You want everyone to see the dirty little slut you are?!" You screamed out his name as he continued to roughly thrust in and out of you, the lights coming back on so you could see what a mess you were in the mirror for him.

"S-Shit daddy I'm close," He nodded at you not wanting to fight it off, you were reaching the 10th floor and no doubt people would be getting in soon.

"Cum for my baby girl, be a good girl for me," He looked into your eyes as you began gasping for air moaning out his name and cumming around him as he continued to push into you, holding you down on him as he finished inside of you.

"Shit," He moaned out, laying his head in your neck as you both stayed there panting for a second, the elevator dinged and you sprang apart, gripping your underwear from the floor and biting on your lip.

"Here," Chan passed you some tissues and you wiped your leg and up to your core praying you could keep it inside of you until you could make it to the bathroom. The doors opened and Jeongin got inside standing between you both,

"You were stuck in here? And the building didn't explode? Improvements." Chan looked at you with a smirk on his face and he winked,

"I think me and Y/n will be working things through, she's not as uptight as I thought." He smirked getting out on the next floor leaving you to deal with Jeongin who was questioning you.

Tagline: @taestannie @peachyhan @jooniesdarlingdimples

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i-need-air · 3 years

Text

Can we talk about Bakugou's awakening?

Hear me out;

He's now an official side-kick for Best Jeanist and for the past few months you've worked together. You're not a hero, but work marvelously behind the scenes as you also study on the side and he begrudgingly respects you a lot for that. His mentor and boss even gave you a private office just for your use and Bakugou would have to deal with watching you every morning waltzing around the hallways with a coffee in hand and with no worry in the world.

You'd start with a simple greeting that would eventually turn into nicknames. He's Blasty. You're Princess. Sarcastic and filled with venom, but you're still Princess.

Of course you'd be a princess; you walk around like you're royalty, greeting everyone effortlessly and even stopping to have a nice, small chats with anyone but him. You pissed him off so much.

Fucking princess, he'd think as he would watch your figure dissapear behind a corner, his orbs enthralled by the way your hips move. You were a princess because you dared to dress in leggings and sweatshirts three sizes bigger in an office building. You were a princess because some days you'd dress in all nines and take his breath away. You were a princess while wearing heavy boots, heels or sneakers and still walk with a grace that almost made his jaw fall on the floor. He'd clench his teeth and snarl at you though because he fucking hated you. And for fuck's sake, he abhorred the way other men reacted to you as well. Animals. Pigs. Disgusting waste of oxygen, looking at you like you're a piece of meat but also the reason they wake up every morning. Fucking princess, because you either didn't notice or you didn't care. Or worse, you liked the attention.

Imagine one day Best Jeanist requiring you to attend a party. A dirty politician attempting to snuggle drugs through the prefecture. A rich, spoiled brat of a son that somehow knew you and tried in his own sleazy and irritating way to woo you away. Woos you denied and turned down every single time, much to Bakugou's relief. Why in the actual fuck was he relieved?

The Pro Hero would call you into his office, ready to negotiate the terms of the mission; all you had to do was to dress up, be pretty and snatch his phone for a single second before they'd all have access to everything. He was the weak link, and his current weakness: you.

All the side-kicks would be there, silent and tense, knowing what's to come.

You'd frown and argue; pride would rush through Bakugou's veins because of course you would. Pride and excitement, soaking in that fire in your eyes with eagerness.

But they convince you. You'd be safe. They'd be there by your side. One dance and the mission would be a success. It was so important. The safety of the city was what ultimately convinced you and Bakugou respected, although again begrudgingly, that about you. Such a princess, acting like you cared about everyone like a saint. Disgruntled scowl on his face, sweaty hands and heart in his throat, Bakugou would hate how nervous he found himself.

But...

The small mischievous grin on your face knocked the wind out of the blond's lungs.

"Your credit card." You said with a raised brow and extended hand. Bakugou watched in wonder and shock, just like everyone else.

"Excuse me?" Was all your boss could ask, sitting behind his desk with somewhat widened eyes.

"If I have to dress pretty you're gonna pay for everything." So sweet, your voice dripped like honey, giving away just a slight malice and sadism. His breath shook as his red orbs focused on your elegant hand still extended towards the older man. Room still silent as he nodded and slowly but surely gave you a small, black credit-card, placing it in your expecting fingers with amusement. He would've offered anyway.

And Bakugou, throughout all the interaction, felt his stomach turn, his inside revolting and punching his insides, lava washing over him. A bolt of electricity ran down his spine and ended in his groin as you giggled sweetly, placing the small card in your bra just before turning and walking away, again looking as if you walked through clouds.

To top it all, the wink you threw him out of everyone else almost made the man lose his balance, but since he was a master in disguise, he clicked his tongue and gave you a snarl. A snarl that momentarily faded when you laughed in return. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Shit, that was sexy." One side-kick muttered just enough for the others to hear as the door shut close behind you. The smell of your perfume lingering in the air as the only giveaway that you've been there.

All he could do was to agree mentally, frown but wide eyes locked on the spot you've last been seen at, chest breathing heavy and heart knocking in his ribcage.

"She's going to drain your bank account, boss." Another one joked and everyone laughed, knowing for a fact the man was swimming in money and still, a small threat stung in the air because you definitely could out of spite.

"I'd let her drain mine." One had the courage to say and a pregnant silence filled the room again; he wasn't the only one thinking that.

Bakugou Katsuki agreed again in his head. He fucking hated those bastards. But damn, how much he fucking desired to see you approach him just like that, with your pretty face, angelic expression, small smirk filled with promise as you'd extend your hand without even asking anything. He knew, right then and there, as the small remains of your perfume still invaded his nostrils that he'd give you all his money as long as you walked by his side. He'd take any promise of bankruptcy just to feel that again. That rush. That absolutely delicious desire to see you dressing pretty but with his money. To be spoiled and taken care by him and only him. To be able to call you his princess.

His goal was to be the Number One Hero, the best Hero Japan could have and wealth surely came along with the title. Someday he'd live to do it. Someday, soon enough, he'd let you take any of his belongings with no problem and argument as long as you were his princess. You already had his heart, he finally understood, and shit, he'd give you the world too if he could.

God, you were such a fucking princess and he adored it.

In which Bakugou Katsuki finally realizes he likes to spoil you rotten even before you two are together.

In which Bakugou Katsuki gets a thrill thinking about it.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #boku no hero academia #bnha #noire writes #imagine #bakugou imagine #just fuck me up bc I DREAMED ABOUT THIS AND I ALMOST CRIED WHEN I WOKE UP BC IT WASN'T REAL 😭

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purrincess-chat · 3 years

Text

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH20

The battle in this chapter has a lot of references. Can you name all of them? ;) You can see our new heroine’s design here!

Previous First Next AO3

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

Chapter 20: my tears ricochet

“Is everything okay, Marinette?” Tikki poked her head out of Marinette’s shirt collar.

The subway station was quiet save for a few other waiting passengers, too absorbed in their phones to notice the girl talking to her small magical friend. Marinette took a deep breath and nodded.

“Yeah,” she said, “I just can’t believe it’s finally over.”

“Don’t you think it’s wrong to seek revenge? What if Lila gets akumatized again because Ladybug exposed her?” Tikki asked with a worried frown.

“Normally, I’d say yes, but it’s about time someone set the record straight,” Marinette said as the subway car pulled up. “Look, I won’t talk about it ever again as Ladybug or Marinette. It’s over now. We’ll just stay on the lookout for the next few days.”

Tikki sank back into Marinette’s shirt without another word, though her frown persisted. Taking a seat on the train, Marinette leaned her head back with a sigh. It had been nearly a month since Marinette changed schools, and she’d done her best to put the past behind her. From the moment she left, she didn’t want anything to do with Lila, but it was too late to take back the interview now. The truth was finally out there, and it was unlikely that Lila would be able to lie her way out of this one. Everyone was free.

When the train arrived at her stop, Marinette followed the crowd of people and pushed the whole ordeal from her mind. What was done was done, and Lila had no power over her anymore. Marinette had often wondered what this day would feel like. Truthfully, it wasn’t as relieving as she thought it would be. Maybe removing herself from the situation lessened the impact, but Marinette felt nothing but apathy. A small part of her was glad to be done with it, but the majority of her just didn’t care about Lila anymore. She’d made new friends, and she was in the process of making one more.

Gabrielle averted her gaze when Marinette entered the café, just like she always did. Marinette had programmed Gabrielle’s work schedule into her calendar, and she’d been making it a point to stop by when she could. Although Gabrielle tried to hide it, Marinette could tell that she was happy to see her.

“Does this count as harassment?” Gabrielle asked, setting Marinette’s usual order on the table.

“Only if you want me to stop,” Marinette said.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes and smiled. “You’re such a dork. No wonder I used to pick on you.”

“That’s not a no,” Marinette said pointedly.

“You’re so annoying,” Gabrielle sighed, stalking back to the counter.

Marinette bit back a smile, retrieving her sketchbook from her bag while Gabrielle tended to other customers. The café was cozy and secluded enough that Marinette could work freely while also keeping an eye on Gabrielle. Her deadline was only a few days away, and she’d already taken time out to help Adrien.

Adrien…

He went behind her back to stop Lila. She’d been so touched in the moment, that she agreed to help without really thinking. But he’d gone against everything he believed in for her. Not Ladybug, not Chloe, not even his best friend. For Marinette. How could she resist? The moment Adrien said he needed Ladybug, she couldn’t help herself. It was selfish, but if he called, she’d always come running. And as it turned out, Adrien was quietly doing the same for her all along. It was kind of romantic in a way.

But what did that make them? Were they dating? Neither one of them had confessed their true feelings, but it was obvious they both really cared for one another. Adrien wouldn’t have teamed up with Chloe if he didn’t feel something for Marinette. Being mean wasn’t in Adrien’s nature—it was one of the many things she loved about him. He had to be in love with her now. There was no other explanation.

Marinette pressed her lips together, tracing hearts along the edges of her sketch. She would tell Adrien how she felt after her presentation with Clara. No chickening out this time. Just her honest feelings and hopefully Adrien’s soft lips and silky golden hair, the intoxicating scent of his cologne, and those strong arms wrapping around her-

“What’s that for?” Gabrielle snapped Marinette from her trance, replacing the cold cup Marinette had long forgotten about with a fresh one.

“Oh, uh, just some designs I’ve been playing with,” Marinette said. “Actually, will you tell me what you think?”

Gabrielle quirked a brow, spinning the sketchbook around to get a better look while Marinette sipped her coffee. She’d narrowed it down to three sketches, and Gabrielle studied them thoughtfully.

“I think the skirt on this one could puff out more, and I think this one would look better if you made it slouch off the shoulder,” Gabrielle said, “but that’s just my opinion.”

“No, that’s really helpful. Thank you.” Marinette smiled.

Gabrielle shifted her weight and mumbled, “Your designs are really good.”

Marinette beamed, but before she could reply, a loud boom shook the café, knocking over cabinets and cups. Gabrielle and Marinette rushed outside to find the source as several passing people ran away from the scene.

“Lila,” Marinette murmured under her breath.

“What?” Gabrielle turned to her.

“I said it must be an akuma,” she said quickly. “We should probably evacuate.”

“As if my boss will let me leave. This place could burn down, and he’d still expect me to show up and sweep the ashes.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “You go.”

Another crash rattled the street, shattering the windows of every parked car along the block. Marinette shielded her face from the debris, Gabrielle taking a defensive stance in front of her. Locking eyes with the villain, Marinette’s blood ran cold.

Lila hadn’t been the one to get akumatized, but the girl staring back at her was all too familiar. Her suit was red and black with spots resembling Ladybug’s on the bodice. Long red hair was tied back into a ponytail, once hazel eyes now scarlet. Her ex-best friend looked at her with utter disdain.

“You…” Her eyes narrowed.

“Alya?” Marinette gasped.

“You two know each other?” Gabrielle quirked a brow.

“She and I used to be…” Marinette lowered her gaze.

“Used to be what, Marinette? Bffs?” The akuma snarled. “Or maybe you’d like to forget that!”

With a swipe of her phone, a purple beam shot toward them. Gabrielle tackled Marinette to the ground, avoiding the blast by an inch. Gabrielle’s manager came out to see what the fuss was about, and the beam engulfed him. He blinked a few times, looking around at the café in confusion.

“Where am I? Better yet, who am I?” he groaned.

Gabrielle pushed Marinette away, eyes wide. “Run!��

“What about yo-”

“Just go!” Gabrielle shouted.

“Oh, she’s not going anywhere.” The akuma swiped her phone screen again, pointing it up to the sky. Storm clouds materialized, and large chunks of hail rained down. “I’m not your bff anymore, Marinette. My name is Ladyblogger, and I can use any power I want! I’m going to expose the truth to everyone once and for all!”

Gabrielle grabbed the coffee pot from her manager and hurled it at Ladyblogger. She took Marinette’s hand, and the two raced up the street.

“This way!” Gabrielle ducked into an alley. She lead Marinette through a private courtyard, down another side street, and across to another alley before stopping. “Take this street, and you should be able to make it home from there.”

“Where will you go?” Marinette asked.

“I should get back to the café. I doubt my manager’s amnesia will last long. You should get somewhere safe.” She shoved Marinette on, heading back in the direction they came.

“Gabrielle?” Marinette called, and she turned over her shoulder. “Thanks. You saved me.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “Now go!”

Marinette bit back a smile as she raced up the alley. Her suit materialized before she made it to the other end, and she tossed her yoyo into the rooftops. Any warmth she’d felt from Gabrielle’s selflessness faded the moment Ladybug touched down on the scene. Chat Noir arrived at the same time she did.

“Looks like the ‘heroes’ decided to show up,” Ladyblogger said with air quotes. “Or should I even call you that anymore? The only people you seem to protect these days are ones with egos the size of monuments!”

“Alya, listen to me! Lila is manipulating you,” Ladybug said.

“You’re one to talk about manipulation. How’s your bff Chloe these days? Or is it actually Marinette?” Ladyblogger shot another beam from her phone, but Chat Noir and Ladybug dodged. The attack hit Gabrielle’s manager again, snapping out of his confusion only to be transformed into a Ladyblogger look alike.

“Wow, for a journalist, you seem to have a hard time swallowing the truth,” Chat Noir said.

Ladyblogger swiped blasts from her screen, and Ladybug and Chat Noir dodged between them, charging in to strike. Chat Noir’s staff phased through Ladyblogger, and he stumbled several paces before regaining his balance. She smirked at him, lifting her finger from the screen and regaining tangibility just in time for Ladybug to land a hit.

The two grappled, dodging each other’s swipes and jabs. Ladyblogger phased in and out of tangibility, striking Ladybug with purposeful blows. When Ladybug finally landed a hit, Ladyblogger simply smiled. Her aura glowed, and she took Ladybug’s wrist, tossing her effortlessly into her partner across the street.

They rolled across the pavement, limbs tangling around each other. Chat Noir immediately helped her to her feet, dusting himself off. “Okay, is it just me, or are her powers super random?”

“I don’t think they are,” Ladybug said. “She’s using abilities we’ve fought before. I think she’s using powers from old akumas.”

“Not just akumas.” Ladyblogger corrected, tapping her screen. “Cataclysm!”

She charged at them, fist glowing with black energy. Ladybug and Chat Noir jumped out of the way, and Ladyblogger swiped the streetlamp, reducing it to a pile of ash.

“Okay, so you can copy our powers too,” Chat Noir said.

Ladybug’s eyes narrowed on Ladyblogger’s screen, an inverted version of her blog theme with icons for each power available to her. “Her blog!” she gasped. “She can use powers of anyone—hero or villain—that she’s reported about on her blog!”

“You always were a smart one,” Ladyblogger said. “So, how come you can’t see through all of the lies people keep feeding you?”

“She’s not the one that needs to open her eyes.” Chat Noir shot back.

Ladyblogger summoned another Cataclysm, punching the ground and sending a shockwave rippling up the street. Ladybug and Chat Noir jumped up to the roof to avoid it.

“Got a plan?” Chat Noir asked.

“Lucky Charm!” Ladybug summoned, and a deck of playing cards materialized.

“Up for a riveting game of poker? We can wager our Miraculouses for her akuma,” Chat smarmed.

“No…” Ladybug studied the logo on the box. “I have to go. Maybe you can annoy her to death with your jokes before I get back.”

“Purrhaps she’ll be a better sport than you.” Chat Noir winked. “Just don’t keep me waiting too long. Even this cat will run out of jokes eventually.”

Ladybug flicked his bell before racing off. Ladyblogger could mimic the power of anyone so long as she’d written about them on her blog, so Ladybug needed a power she hadn’t seen before.

“Master!” Marinette burst through the door. “Chat Noir and I are fighting an akuma, and I need to borrow a Miraculous.”

Master Fu set aside his book. “Then let’s not waste any time.”

He retrieved the Miracle Box from its hiding place and presented it to her. Marinette surveyed her options carefully. The mouse could work, but she wasn’t sure it was the one they needed. Then there was the monkey, but that could confuse things even more. She needed something stealthy. Something like…

“Do you have someone in mind?” Master Fu asked as she grabbed the tiger gauntlet.

“I think I just might.”

♪♫♪ Bad Blood ♪♫♪

Ladybug found Gabrielle sweeping broken glass outside the café. The street was quiet and long since evacuated. Chat Noir and Ladyblogger relocated to the Trocadero, but Gabrielle stayed behind, waiting for everything to go back to normal. She quirked a brow when Ladybug approached.

“I’m going to assume since I’m still here sweeping glass that you haven’t defeated the akuma?” she asked.

“Not yet.” Ladybug admitted. “I need a little help. Think you’re up for it?”

“Why do you need my help? Don’t you have a passel of super-freaks on speed dial?” Gabrielle grunted, returning to her sweeping.

“I do, but… how would you like to be one of them?” Ladybug offered, and Gabrielle froze.

“For real?” she asked, eyes glinting with intrigue that extinguished just as quickly as it lit. “Why me?”

“Didn’t you watch my interview earlier?” Ladybug cocked a hip. “I’m always looking for new partners, and I saw how you helped your friend earlier.”

“We’re not really friends,” Gabrielle said, but when Ladybug gave her a disbelieving smirk, she sighed. “Okay, fine. She’s annoying, but whatever, I guess she’s my friend. I just don’t see how that has anything to do with me becoming a superhero. You obviously don’t know me very well, but let’s just say I’m not exactly the hero type.”

“Don’t you want to be?” Ladybug asked, and when Gabrielle averted her gaze, she added, “Look, I didn’t think I was superhero material at first either, but being Ladybug helped me realize I’m more capable than I think. You have an opportunity to do something good. Isn’t that what you want?”

Gabrielle lowered her gaze, tapping her nails against the wooden handle. Pressing her lips together, she squared her shoulders and let the broom fall to the ground.

“Gabrielle Burton, this is the Miraculous of the Tiger, which grants you the power of invisibility. You will use it to fight for the greater good.” Ladybug recited, presenting her with a small box. “Once the battle is over, you will return it to me. Can I trust you?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes and took the box, barely flinching when Roarr manifested.

“Hello there! My name is Roarr, and I’m a-”

“We don’t have time for that. My job doesn’t pay me enough to fight supervillains, so let’s just get this over with.” Gabrielle cut him off. “Now, how does this thing work?”

Ladybug flashed him an apologetic grin, and he flicked his tail. “To transform, all you have to do is say ‘Roarr, transform me,’” he said without any fanfare.

“Cool.” Gabrielle slipped on the gauntlet. “Roarr, transform me!”

Gabrielle caught on quick, following behind Ladybug without need for explanation. If Marinette had learned anything about Gabrielle, it was that she was straightforward and to the point. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that she was guarded around Ladybug. Marinette was still breaking through some of those walls herself, but she truly believed that Gabrielle could be a good hero if she tried.

When they arrived at the Trocadero, Gabrielle cracked her whip before Ladyblogger could ready another attack. Seeing Ladybug with a new ally must have struck a nerve because Ladyblogger let out a frustrated growl. Chat Noir rushed in but slammed into an invisible wall. Ladyblogger tugged an invisible cell door shut with a smile, but Gabrielle didn’t leave her much time to gloat.

“Who’s the new pet?” Ladyblogger called. She and Gabrielle sparred while Ladybug checked on Chat Noir.

“Obviously, someone she trusts more than you.” Gabrielle retorted. They locked hands, glaring each other down.

“It seems that Ladybug is employing a lot of mean girls, these days. Falling on hard times?” Ladyblogger grunted, hiking a leg to knee Gabrielle in the gut. “You must really be scraping the bottom of the barrel. Looks like your little tigress needs some more training.”

Ladyblogger struck again, but Gabrielle caught her wrist, redirecting her down the stairs. As Ladyblogger stumbled to the bottom, Gabrielle cocked a hip.

“Tigress, I kind of like that. I think I’ll keep it,” she said.

Ladyblogger scrambled to her feet as Ladybug and Chat Noir flanked Tigress. Her attention turned to the news station helicopter hovering over the Trocadero to catch all of the action.

“Let’s see if the rookie is really up to snuff,” Ladyblogger said, tapping her screen again. “Venom!”

“No!” Ladybug shouted.

Ladyblogger jumped, clearing the distance to the helicopter easily. With a light tap, the pilot froze in place, and Ladyblogger hopped out the other side as the plane spiraled into a tailspin.

“Chat Noir, Tigress, get everyone out!” Ladybug ordered.

Her partners sprang into action while Ladybug hooked her yoyo around the streetlamps. Tigress took care of Nadja while Chat Noir carried the pilot and cameraman. They got out just as the helicopter landed in Ladybug’s net. Her feet skidded against the concrete, bearing the weight of the aircraft as she gently lowered it to the ground.

“Hey, Bugheads! Ladyblogger here, and do I have the scoop for you!” A large camera broadcast their efforts to every screen in Paris, and Ladyblogger watched in amusement. “Always playing the hero, but only for those she deems worthy of saving. Hasn’t anyone ever wondered if the girl under the mask is really as nice as we all think?”

“Thanks, Ladybug,” Nadja said as Tigress set her down.

“Get somewhere safe,” Ladybug ordered.

The pilot groaned and rubbed his head, free from Venom’s sting. Ladybug eyed him with a pensive frown as the reporting crew scrambled to safety.

“Any ideas?” Chat Noir asked.

“Forming one,” Ladybug replied. “It looks like she can only use one power at a time, so when she switches to a new one, the effects of the old one wear off—like closing an app on a phone.”

“Okay, so what does that mean for us?” Tigress crossed her arms over her chest.

“It means we have to keep her moving,” Ladybug said, palming her yoyo. “Lucky charm!”

A catcher’s mitt landed in her hands, and Chat Noir quirked a brow.

“Great, so we can invite her to play catch,” he said.

Ladybug glanced around singling in on Tigress, Chat Noir’s staff, and her glove. A smile broke over her lips. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do, but we’re going to do it my way. Chat Noir, you and I are going to keep Ladyblogger busy while Tigress sneaks in.”

Chat Noir nodded without a second thought, but Tigress shot Ladybug a skeptical look. “Are you sure this is gonna work?”

“This isn’t even her most convoluted plan.” Chat Noir shrugged.

“And now the superheroine has summoned her last resort. I think it’s time everyone learned the truth about Paris’s savior. Coming up next, we’re going to take her Miraculous and find out what kind of person is hiding behind the mask! Stay connected, Bugheads.” Ladyblogger ended her broadcast and swiped to a new power. “Let’s see which one of us has more luck, Ladybug. Lucky Charm!”

Ladyblogger caught the rocket launcher with a sinister laugh, taking aim at the band of heroes. When she pulled the trigger, they dispersed, splitting up in three different directions.

“Camouflage!” Tigress whispered.

Ladybug and Chat Noir wasted no time drawing Ladyblogger’s attention, dodging past missiles as they closed in. They took turns taking jabs and kicks, and with closer proximity, Ladyblogger abandoned her weapon in favor of a different power. Light beams shot from her screen with each swipe of her fingers, transforming streetlamps and benches into hard black lumps.

“Coal? But I’ve been so good this year!” Chat Noir taunted.

“I used to think you two were so great, but now I see you for who you really are! You’re not heroes, you’re just two little kids playing dress-up for attention,” Ladyblogger said.

“You know what? You’re right,” Ladybug said. “Just keep all of your attention on us.”

“It shouldn’t be hard. I am pretty good-looking.” Chat Noir flexed his biceps.

Ladyblogger’s eyes narrowed, but before she could make her next move, her arms pinned to her sides. An invisible force wrestled her to the ground, kicking her phone from her grasp in a direct pitch to Chat Noir.

Tigress materialized on top of her, pulling her whip tight. “Looks like Hawkmoth should have trained you a little more,” she said.

“Batter up!” Chat Noir called, swinging his baton.

Ladybug caught the phone in her mitt easily and stomped it under her foot, releasing the black butterfly from inside.

“No more evil-doing for you, little akuma. Looks like she struck out.”

Tigress stood up as Ladybug’s magic healed the city. When Alya came to, Ladybug crouched beside her, presenting her repaired phone.

“I know you’re hurt and confused, but I promise that everything I said earlier is true,” Ladybug said. “You’re a smart girl, Alya. The truth is right in front of you if you look for it.”

Alya searched her expression, lips pressing into a firm line. “Why should I believe you?”

“Seriously? After everything Ladybug has done for this city, you’re going to blow her off just like that? Some journalist you are,” Tigress grunted, flipping her braid over one shoulder.

“Tigress-”

Alya’s jaw clenched. She snatched her phone from Ladybug’s grasp and stood up. “So these are the kind of people you replace real heroes with? I thought one drama queen was a coincidence, but I’m starting to think you just have a type,” she said. “You’re right. I am smart—smart enough to see when someone isn’t who they say they are. So from now on, I’m no longer your fan, Ladybug, and I’m going to expose the truth to everyone!”

Tigress averted her gaze as Alya stormed off. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s okay,” Ladybug said. Her heart sank watching Alya walk away from her for the second time. “She already made up her mind.”

♪♫♪ Far From Heaven ♪♫♪

“You okay, Al?”

Alya peeked at her boyfriend over the pillow she was hugging to her face, tears streaking her cheeks. Nino sat on the bed beside her, pulling her into his arms. Alya nestled into his neck and allowed his warmth to thaw the cold ache in her chest.

“I saw your blog post. Are you really done with Ladybug?” Nino asked.

Alya flicked her gaze to her phone resting on the bed, her latest post on the Ladyblog displayed on the screen. She might have gone too far with it, but she didn’t care. Ladybug wasn’t who Alya thought, and the world needed to know that their beloved heroine wasn’t so loving.

“After everything I’ve done for her, all the time I spent proving to her how trustworthy I was, and she just replaced me without even saying anything. Then she’s out there being best buddies with Chloe?” Alya’s voice cracked. “How could she do that?”

Nino pursed his lips, and Alya leaned her cheek against his chest, breathing him in. She didn’t blame him for not having an answer because neither did she. In only a few weeks, her entire world had been flipped on its head. Losing Marinette had hurt enough, but now she couldn’t even believe in the people she revered most. Were all superheroes just pretending to be nice? Or did they all have a Chloe Bourgeois behind the scenes pulling the strings? And what was Marinette’s role in all of this? Was all of it really her fault? Alya didn’t know what to believe now.

“Maybe you should take some time away from your blog. I think it might be good to put some distance between you for a while.” Nino suggested, kissing her temple. “At least while you’re hurting, I don’t think it’s healthy for you to be around all that. Take some time to clear your head.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right…” Alya picked up her phone, thumb lingering over the home button, but she couldn’t bring herself to press it.

Nino was right. Her obsession with heroes wasn’t healthy. How many times had she put herself in danger capturing footage for her blog, and for what? Ladybug clearly didn’t care, so why should Alya? A break wasn’t what she needed. If she came back, it would just be more of the same. What Alya truly needed was to walk away. To shut the door and never look back. Maybe then she could find something worth believing in.

“Al?”

Alya bit her lip, thoughts racing. Before she could change her mind, she hit delete, erasing months of hard work in an instant. Countless late nights, dangerous battles collecting footage, all of her hopes and dreams and theories gone at the touch of a button. Ladybug didn’t trust her anymore, and now the feeling was mutual.

#mdcspr #mdcsp #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist remix #my writing

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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 3 years

Text

Tea Shop Part One - Zuko x female reader series

Imagine being an air acolyte searching for the avatar in Ba Sing Sei and instead finding yourself working beside the dragon of the west and the banished prince of the fire nation, but of course you know them as Mushi and Lee. From the start you and Zuko clash, you hate his angry rude attitude and he hates how often you call him out on his poor behaviour. Your dislike grows until it’s almost unbearable and then his life is suddenly placed in your hands. After that and things change...

Part two here

Part three here

Part four here

(Note, in the readers view Zuko = Lee and Iroh = Mushi but when it’s from Zuko’s or Iroh’s pov they will be Zuko and Iroh. Hope that’s not too confusing!

Prologue: You were descended from air benders and were one of the last air aceloytes in the world. Your family was not in the air nation when the fire nation attacked a century ago, by luck your grandfather was in Omashu. When he heard the news he was devastated but crippled with fear he stayed and hid in the Earth kingdom. He married your grandmother and tried to assimilate into the earth kingdom. Your grandparents were terrified of the fire nation and therefore keeping the air nation traditions alive was not something they were focused on. So by the time you were born only your Uncle Pathik made an effort to keep the air nation traditions alive, even becoming a monk to devote himself to the cause. Your family was under the belief if they kept quiet the fire nation wouldn’t find them but of course they did. The fire nation arrested your family for the suspicion of practicing air bending, despite the fact none of you could actual airbend. The association enough was worth a life long imprisonment and so your family we’re shipped away to the deepest prison known. Your father managed to smuggle you out of the city but he wasn’t so lucky. You were devestated but after your escape headed to the only family you had left, your eccentric uncle’s home at the eastern air temple. You managed to avoid warrants for your arrest with shows of earth bending, a skill inhertited by your grandmother. Fire nation guards couldn’t comprehend someone being an air aceloyte and an earth bender and so the gift saved your life. You finally tracked down your uncle and decided that day to dedicate yourself to the air nation in spite of the fire nation. They’d taken your family but they wouldn’t take your culture. You asked your uncle to teach you all he knew and worked hard to become an air acolyte like your grandfather. It all seemed pointless, you and your uncle against the whole fire nation and then you heard the avatar was back. You made it your mission to find him and help him rebuild the air nation. You told your uncle your plan and he told you to go to Ba Sing Sei, always allusuive, he told you nothing more than you’d find what you needed there and so you set off. You expected to find the avatar quickly but had been there a whole year with no sign of him. You we’re giving up hope you’d ever find him and you’d be stuck working as a waitress in the lower ring forever when two new staff members changed that.

Your POV

You showed up for your shift at the tea shop to find your boss had finally hired some more staff. You were thrilled and eyed the two newcomers with interest as your boss discussed the basic tasks with them while you ran the tea shop, eventually the tour brought them to you and you were introduced. "This is my main waitress" your boss said to the two men "y/n these are your two new coworkers". You nodded looking them over, the older man smiled at you but the younger one stared at the ground, or more accurately glared. He definitely did not seem pleased to be here. "Nice to meet you" you offered and the old man smiled and told you his name. You looked to the younger one expectantly and the man nudged him. "’I’m Lee" he replied flatly barely glancing at you. “Well welcome” you smiled and Mushi smiled at you but the boy, Lee, didn’t even look at you. “Now on with the tour” your boss cried and you watched Mushi talk to him while Lee sulked. Great your new co-worker was a pouty angry teenager. He’d be fun to work with.

1 week later

Your prediction was true, you were an easy going person who could usually get along with anyone...expect this new boy. The boy was miserable and moody. He was inconsiderate and obviously didn’t work well in teams. His customer service poor and his tea making skills only just adequate. The fact he was so rude prompted you to mess with him, rude people were fair game as far as you were concerned and so you made sure not to help him. If the waiter couldn’t show common courtesy than neither would you. This resulted in a lot of shared glares and bickering between the two of you. You knew it went against your air nomad roots to pick on people but when the person was a moody rude immature man who never got your name right, surely the monks saw that as an exception right?

You arrived at the tea shop for your afternoon shift and saw Lee was leaving. That was nice. Things between you had gotten worse over the past week and shifts with him were almost unbareable. Being mean didn’t come naturally to you but something about this man made your blood boil. Lee noticed you come into the shop and held out an apron to you. Suprised you went to take it when he dropped it on the floor with a laugh. You rolled your eyes at him and snatched it up off the floor. Lee smirked and you glared. You watched him place his belongings on the counter as he prepared to leave, something you’d told him not to do many times as it wasn’t sanitary and got an idea. A glass of water was also on the counter and you smirked, because your manager was such a cheapskate the counter was made of earth. You flicked your hand and knocked the glass over onto Lee’s stuff. Lee cried out and groaned as it soaked his bag and coat. Lee looked around and caught you smiling. “You....” he started when Mushi appeared “y/n I need three jasmine teas”. You nodded “on it” and grinned at Lee’s angry glare that was glued to you as you walked past him.

Iroh’s POV

Iroh noticed Zuko pouting about something and paused as you left to go make the tea like he’d asked. Zuko was angrily shaking his jacket and Iroh frowned “Lee are you...”. “She! She is the worst! Did you see what she just did to me” Zuko cried holding his bag out to Iroh who frowned. The bag had a tiny wet stain. “Ow yes this is very serious...the sun might not even dry it before you reach home!” Iroh cried. Zuko rolled his eyes “y/n did this! Did you know she’s an earth bender?”. “No but we are in the greatest earth city in the world...it’s not suprising”. “She can’t treat me like that” Zuko carried on ignoring Iroh’s comment “she can’t get away with this, who does she think she is?”. “Hasn’t she told you numerous times not to put your stuff on the counter?”. “She...I don’t know! I don’t listen to her! She’s always telling me how to do stuff like i’m a...”. “New employee?” Iroh asked with a smile and Zuko scoffed. “This is ridiculous i’m sick of this” and he stormed from the tea shop. Iroh laughed and glanced to where you stood serving customers, you’d certainly gotten under his nephew’s skin and it was entertaining if nothing else.

Your POV

When the afternoon rush finally died down you got a chance to chat to Mushi. Thank god he was nothing like his nephew, there was a down side though. Despite not be liked him he loved talking about his nephew and seemed to constantly mention him to you, like today. “Y/n do you think you’d be able to work the late shift with me tomorrow night?" he asked "it was supposed to be Lee’s shift but he has a date". "Really?" you asked more than fairly suprised, "is it that girl who’s always in here?". Mushi nodded "yes!" and you laughed "i knew it! She asked for Lee to serve her even though his waiter skills are awful!". Mushi laughed "love is blind, she’s hopefully seen past his moody exterior to the man he is beneath” Mushi smiled at you but his hint went right over your head. "I can cover his shift" you agreed and Mushi grinned "Thank you y/n!". You told him it was fine and smirked, just the idea of Lee on a date was enough to make you laugh.

2 days later

You probably shouldn’t have offered to work that late shift for Mushi when you were opening in the morning too but you needed the money so you dragged yourself out of bed way earlier than you would’ve liked. The idea of teasing Lee about his date motivating you and when you saw him waiting outside the tea shop you smirked. "Morning" you called loudly making him jump. He swore and you smirked unlocking the door. "It’s your shift?” he complained “why are you always here?". "Because i work here idiot" you said going to roll your eyes before you calmed yourself, Lee wouldn’t ruin your good mood...or stop you teasing him about his night out. "So how was the date?" you asked smirking. Lee didn’t look at you, he didn’t even show he’d so much as heard you. It made him so much harder to annoy when he didn’t respond so you tried again. "Hey i covered for you I expect some payment" you informed him but he just shrugged "i didn’t ask you to cover for me". "Yeah but i was still the person who did so you could run around on a date" you said annoyed. The man always managed to do this, you’d start messing with him and come off angrier than him somehow. Lee only shrugged "not my problem" and you glared. Your good mood was slipping.

All day Lee’s attitude annoyed you more and more. He was in a worse mood than ever and it showed. He was rude to customers, he mixed up orders and refused to correct them, he spoke back to you when you were only trying to help him. So by the end of your shift you were ready to strangle him. When Mushi and another worker showed up to relieve you, a sigh of relief escaped without you even realising. You let all your anger go, prepared to move...and then you turned around and tripped over the rubbish bag you’d asked Lee to take out 3 times. From your crumpled position of the floor you spotted him already ready to leave and your anger flared back up. You marched to him and pressed the bag into him “here”. “Why would I want this?” he asked and you glared “it’s the rubbish you forgot to take out”. “I didn’t forget I just didn’t want to” he shrugged and you twitched. “Wow that’s a great attitude, take it outside now”. “No, you’re not my boss, you can’t tell me what to do”. He opened the back door and sauntered out and you followed him seeing red. You threw the bag at him hitting him on the shoulder and let out an angry groan. “What’s your problem?” you cried. “What’s your problem” Lee replied squaring up to you but you wouldn’t back down. “My problem is you’re an awful waiter and an intolerable human”. “Wow that hurts me so much” Lee said sarcastically and you balled your fists. “What is wrong with you?” you called “nobodies making you work here, if it’s so awful find another job! It’s not my fault you’re miserable all the time so stop acting like it is!" you yelled "you’re mad at the world? Well get in line! Nothing gets better by you acting like a jerk but if you hate it here so much leave!" and you slammed the door in his face.

Later that day

Your day hadn’t gotten much better as it went on but the end was finally in sight. You'd just finished your shift at a nearby restaurant you also worked at when you noticed two men fighting. You frowned but turned the other way. Sure it wasn’t the noble thing to do but you'd learnt to only seek trouble in certain situations and in back alleys at night was not one of those moments. The trouble apparently didn’t want to leave you alone however and you heard sounds telling you the fighting was following you. Suddenly one of them crashed past you, the other following with a sword. You glared and then gaped to see Lee was one of the men fighting. It didn't suprise you he’d be in a street fight but to be fair he seemed to be the one getting attacked. Shocked you watched, impressed by how skilled the two men were. Lee was obviously not a tea maker and according to the other guy he was actually a fire bender.

The man managed to disarm Lee and he smirked. "you’re defence less, you’ll have to firebend to stop me doing this" and swept his sword towards Lee. Lee closed his eyes unable to get out of his grip and just accepted the swing. You couldn't. Call it the airbender roots in you but you wouldn’t watch senseless violence and just do nothing, even for someone as annoying as Lee. "No" you shouted and sent a rock hurtling towards the man. You knocked him off Lee and stepped forwards "leave him alone". "Who’s this your body guard?" the boy asked and you raised an eyebrow "actually i’m a waitress". Lee stood beside you and you both faced the attacker when you heard yelling. Suddenly two Dai Li agents arrived and looked between you and Lee to the boy. "What’s going on here?" they asked and you turned to them. You’d gotten pretty good at maniuplating the authorities in your hidden life so knew how to play the Dai Li. “Officers thank god you’re here! This man attacked me and my friend for no reason, he was going to hurt him so i had to earth bend! I didn’t mean to hurt anyone I swear". "She’s right" a man who’d been watching called and the Dai Li fixed their eyes on the other boy. He tried to resist but they forced him into a cart and it disappeared down the road. "I’m sorry this happened to you" the agent told you and Lee "please go on and enjoy your night". You and Lee nodded and turned to walk away, when you were out of ear shot Lee spoke. "You didn’t have to help me" he started and you rolled your eyes sick of this and started to walk away. "No!" he said catching you up "i didn’t mean it like that, i just meant...after today i figured you hated me". "I don’t hate anyone" you replied "but you come pretty close sometimes". You thought his mouth almost curved into a smile and he nodded. "What were you doing out here?" he asked "and are you in a uniform". "I work at a restaurant near here" you explained. "You have two jobs?". "Three" you said embarassed "rent’s hard". Lee nodded his head down and you were pleased he didn’t give you sympathy. "I’m not you know" he said suddenly and you frowned “what?”. “A firebender...i’m not one" he clarified. "I wouldn’t care if you are" you shrugged and Lee frowned "really i assumed because of your..." and he trailed off. "Because of my what?" you asked turning to face him and Lee paled. He looked to your arm without meaning to and you knew he’d seen the scar that lay there. "i didn’t mean to, your sleeve was pushed up the other day..." he rushed to explain reading your expression "’i’m sorry for mentioning it". You touched your arm self consciously, the place where your burn crisscrossed it and frowned. A fire nation solider had give it you on your trip to the eastern air temple, he was annoyed your earth bending proved you couldn’t be the run away air acolyte and so he burned you as punishment. "It’s okay" you said after a while "but no it doesn’t change things, i don’t blame all firebenders just because one burnt me". Lee looked shocked at that and you got a feeling he didn’t have that same view about the person who burnt him. "It doesn’t matter to me if you're a fire bender or the earth king himself, we’re all just human". Lee paused suprised to hear you say something so philosophical and nodded. "’I’m sorry, for earlier not this" he said softly "i have been...difficult". "Just difficult?" you asked and he shot you a glare. "Sorry...you were saying?". He sighed and glanced back at you "i’m working on my anger" he told you "i’ll try and be less of a jerk". "I’ll believe it when i see it" you replied but smirked to let him know you were joking.

You walked the rest of the way in silence and reached the tea house quickly. Mushi was cleaning up damage that must’ve been caused by the fight but dropped his broom when he saw Lee. “Z..Lee you’re okay” he cried rushing over “what happened?”. “It was fine, y/n helped me and Jet was arrested”. “You helped him?” Mushi asked smiling between you both and you and Lee rolled your eyes simultaneously. “It was nothing” you said quickly “i’d have done it for anyone”. You thought Lee’s eyes narrowed at that comment and so quickly added “but i’m glad you’re okay”. Lee looked at you suprised but nodded “thanks”. You nodded awkwardly and turned “so i’ll be going home, see you guys tomorrow”. “Bye y/n and thanks again” Mushi called after you.

Zuko and Iroh’s POV

As soon as you were gone Iroh smirked at Zuko “so...the two of you seem to have bonded”. “Don’t” Zuko replied pushing past him. Iroh’s smirk grew as he noticed the slight blush on his nephews cheek, he knew he’d sensed chemistry there. Thank god the two of you finally were realising it too.

____

I made a new Zuko series! I always love how angsty and stroppy season 2 Zuko was so thought I’d write a series around that. Hope you like it!!!

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the-iceni-bitch · 3 years

Text

An Early Christmas Gift

Pairing: Surprise (male protag) x Female Reader

Word Count: 5130

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, it’s porn y’all, 18+, SPOILERY CONTENT WARNINGS BELOW THE CUT! PLEASE BE MINDFUL!

A/N: Well ladies, school is slow, I’m off work, and I’m horny, so I have decided to bless you all with my second fic, also a submission in the 2020 Happy Hoeliday’s challenge hosted by the absolutely lovely @stargazingfangirl18, @donutloverxo, and @navybrat817. I wanted to do something a little different with this one, where you don’t find out who your partner is until you get below the cut, like a fun little Christmas surprise. Due to the nature of this fic, there is some content that could be potentially upsetting that would also constitute potential spoilers, the the warnings for those are in the text itself. Please see further notes at the end of the fic and enjoy this little gift from me to you!

“Look honey, they’re perfect!” You exclaimed as you held up the tiny hat and booty set. “Gabi will love them!”

You hadn’t planned on doing any more Christmas shopping, but when your sister called as you were driving around the countryside surrounding Gruyeres to let you know she was pregnant, you knew you had to grab something from one of the adorable shops in the medieval Swiss town.

“Cadeau emballé s'il vous plaît.” You murmured to the shopkeeper as you handed over your payment, and within a few minutes you were walking out of the shop with a beautifully wrapped package, arm in arm with your partner. You were idly chatting about your plans for tomorrow (you’d have to be sure to get up early to ship your gift to Gabi) as you turned down an alleyway on the way back to your inn.

“Ah, fuck.” He murmured as you were halfway down the alley, and suddenly he had you pressed up against the wall with his mouth on yours. You dropped the bag containing your gift in surprise.

He pressed one palm against the small of your back to hold you flush against him while the other held his balance against the stone wall. One of his thighs moved in between your legs and started to edge your wool pencil skirt slowly upward. You got over the surprise quickly and brought your hands up to latch onto his hair as his tongue ran along your lower lip and you moaned into his mouth.

~~~~~~~~WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE~~~~~~~~~~

You almost missed the stranger that came up behind him and pressed a gun to his head.

“Que faites-vous?” the man hissed at you. You noticed four more men, two at each end of the alley, starting to move closer and started to sob.

“Qu'est-ce que vous voulez?” You gasped through a steady stream of tears. Your partner’s hands were now raised in supplication as his jaw clenched in a look of frustration.

“Pourquoi me suivez-vous, eh?” The man had now turned his attention to you, since you were the only one saying anything.

“We, we weren’t…” You had now reverted to your native English as you started to sink down the wall, a blubbering mess.

The man stepped forward and trained his gun on you, shifting his balance as he moved.

You ducked under your partner’s arm as you loosened one of the knives sewn into your coat sleeve, caught the wrist of the hand holding the gun, and slashed down his brachial artery.

“Merde!” he shouted, stumbling backwards as blood rushed down his arm. You could hear the other men cursing under their breath as they started to rush you.

You flipped the blade you were holding into your palm, then flung it into the throat of the nearest assailant before shrugging out of your coat. August was already out of his and was pulling out the gun he had tucked into his waistband.

“They’re too close for that.” You told him as the last three closed in on you. Then you saw 2 more rushing into the alley and let out a sigh. “Damn.”

The newcomers started firing as you dove into a nook in the wall. August had his sights trained on them as he started to take his shots. The other three were on you in seconds.

You managed to dodge the first few punches as you drew two new knives from inside your boot. You caught a glancing blow to your ribs before kicking the culprit twice, once to the diaphragm, once to the face. You felt arms wrap around you from behind as you were lifted off the ground by the largest lackey. You started gasping as he began to squeeze the air out of your lungs.

You whipped your head back fast and felt a crunch as you connected with his nose. He dropped you to the ground with a hiss and you plunged a knife back and connected with flesh, earning yourself a momentary reprieve. You used the other knife to cut a slit up the thigh of your skirt to allow you to move more.

The gunfire had stopped at this point and you managed to catch a glimpse of August grappling with one of the gunmen before one of your assailants bowled into you. As he tried to flip you onto your back, you managed to take over the momentum and wrap your knee around his neck until you heard a snap.

You felt a sharp pain in your side as you straightened back up and were fairly sure you now had a broken rib. You turned to face your final attacker when you heard a choked off scream and a body flew into your field of vision, crashing into the man you were facing.

You turned to your left to see August pumping his fists as he strode after the man he had just thrown across the alleyway like a ragdoll. You squared up shoulder to shoulder as your two opponents did the same.

The final fight started with a crash. The two of you had vastly different fighting styles. You were all strategy, dodging most blows, planning your strikes for maximum damage. August was all brute force; he simply absorbed any body shots and knew that the size and force of his fists would cause damage no matter where they landed. The fight finally ended with your opponent with a knife through his eye, while August’s opponent’s head was almost ripped off with a broken neck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END OF CONTENT WARNING~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Motherfucker,” you exclaimed, “they shot the baby gift!”

August was already dialing a sanitation team as you went over to inspect the damage. You may have been able to salvage it if someone hadn’t managed to bleed into the bullet hole in the packaging, soaking the beanie and booties.

Leaving the ruined present behind, you went to search the corpses for any useful information. You found one potentially salvageable cell phone (it was only covered in blood, not crushed) and nothing else.

“Shit”

“Sloane wants to talk to you,” August said, handing you his cell.

“Y/L/N, you wanna tell me what exactly the situation is there?”

“Did Walker not give you a run down?”

“His run downs tend to be minimal at best, this one was ‘lots of dead bodies in an alley, send a team.’”

You winced as you touched your ribs to assess the damage. “Yeah, that sounds like him. They made us and boxed us in. I have one cell I may be able to get something out of. Does rice work for absorbing blood or just water?”

You heard a snort over the line. “Take it back to your safe house and I’ll have an analyst pick it up tomorrow. Right now, you need to get out of there, we’re showing law enforcement heading to your location.”

“Alright. Hey, can you have that analyst pick up a replacement baby gift for me?” You asked as you held up a blood-soaked booty.

“Sure, they love when I give them errands.” You heard the sarcasm dripping from her voice.

“We’re on our way back. I’m trashing our phones just in case.” You said as you walked through the alley, making sure to collect all the knives you had used and tucking them back into their designated sheathes.

“Good plan. The analyst will bring you replacements in the morning. Stay in your room at the inn and don’t leave under any circumstances.”

“You got it boss.” You placed the phone on a slightly raised cobblestone at an angle and brought your boot down on it hard, hearing it crack.

You did the same with the phone in your purse as August walked back over to you, carrying both of your coats.

“Hey Walker, what the fuck was that kiss?”

He winced at you. “I thought it would throw them off.”

“Uh-huh” you mumbled as you shrugged your coat back on. That may have explained why he kissed you, but definitely not the way he kissed you. “You’re bleeding”

“Yeah, one of them grazed me”

“Alright, I’ll stitch you up when we get back to the hotel. Put your coat over it for now”

He groaned when he stretched his arm through the sleeve of his coat, feeling the burning of the wound along his ribs now that his adrenaline was going down.

You hobbled back into your room at the inn after you managed to calm down the tiny innkeeper. You weren’t sure how you convinced her you had both just tripped as you were walking down a hill, but she seemed to buy it. She insisted on sending up a bundle of hot towels with you and a bucket of ice, which you thanked her for.

After locking the door behind you, you pulled out the first aid kit from under your bed and turned to your patient.

“I hope you’re not too attached to that sweater.”

“What?” August was slowly rolling his coat off his shoulders. He had rolled the sweater up around his elbows during the fight, exposing his well-muscled forearms.

“Even if I could get the blood out of it, I’m going to need to cut it off you.” You told him over your shoulder as you scrubbed your hands. “I don’t want to drag it over the wound and cause any more damage.”

“Alright.”

You drew the scissors out of the kit and held the sweater away from his torso as you began cutting up towards his neckline. He winced when the edge of your hand barely skimmed the wound.

“This sweater is ridiculously tight Walker; I’m doing my best.”

“You’re fine just get it over with.” He said through gritted teeth.

“I haven’t even started cleaning it and you’re already complaining. Do you want me to knock you out for a couple of stitches?”

“Do you have a sedative in that kit?”

“The kit is the sedative. One good ram against your skull should have you down for the count.”

He started laughing in spite of himself before groaning at the pain.

“If you don’t hold still, I really will knock you out.” You scolded him, pouring an iodine solution over the wound.

“Fuck, Y/L/N! Ah, that stings.”

“Here, bite down on this.” You folded up a towel and handed it to him. He shoved it in his mouth and clamped down as you ran a flame over the needle you would be using. He let out a grunt around it when you first inserted the needle but managed to settle in as you got to work.

Less than a minute later, you finished your beautiful blanket stitch and were about to start wrapping his torso when he stayed your hand.

“Leave it.”

“Suit yourself.” You said, standing up. You winced suddenly as you had forgotten about your own injury and it was now screaming at you. “Shit.” You hissed. “Help me out of my coat?”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Pretty sure I have at least one broken rib.”

He stood up and helped you shrug out of your heavy coat. “Jesus, how many knives are in here?”

“Six?” you said as you did a mental tally. “No, seven. Two in each sleeve, two in the waist, one in between the shoulders.” You went to the bathroom mirror and untucked your blouse from your skirt, pulling up the edge to get a good look at your bruised torso.

“You really need to carry seven knives with you?”

“No. Those are just the ones sewn into the coat.” You put your shirt back down. “Good news, pretty sure I just have a bruised diaphragm. Hurts like a bitch but not a whole lot you can do about it.”

You turned around to head back to the bedroom when you bumped into August’s bare chest.

“Where do you keep the other knives?”

He was looking at you with what you had originally assumed were adrenaline blown eyes, but now recognized as the dilated pupils of lust. His blood must have still been up from the fight.

With your boots still on you were almost as tall as him, but he was a solid wall of muscle in front of you and while you could move him if you needed to, that wouldn’t be good for either of your injuries.

“What are you doing?” You asked him, looking him dead in the eye as you shifted your stance, ready to fight if you had to, but you thought you would have a better chance if you ran.

He let out a sigh and stepped back on his heels, allowing you to relax a bit.

“I think I misread this situation.”

“How exactly?”

“Listen,” he said, “there’s nothing like a good fuck after a fight and we’ve been partnered for almost six months now. I know we’re normally able to take care of ourselves but since we’re stuck in this room together with just the one bed, it would probably be less awkward if we just…”

“’You know we’re normally able to take care of ourselves?’ Where the fuck did you get that idea?”

“You’re not very quiet.” He said bluntly, which you honestly couldn’t deny so you just started laughing.

“No, that’s definitely true” You said. Standing there, looking at him leaning up against the wall with his naked torso that looked like it had been chiseled by Da Vinci after a particularly exquisite wet dream, you couldn’t even deny that often, the thought of him between your legs was enough to push over the edge in your post-fight sessions.

“Alright then let’s set some ground rules. Hard limits for me are going to be anything related to urine or feces. No real soft limits but if you want to do breath play you better know what you’re doing. My safe word is ‘balsam’. What about you?”

He was looking at you with his face in a state of total shock. “Umm, what?”

“What are your limits Walker? What won’t you do? What are you willing to do but aren’t crazy about?”

“No, no, I know what limits are. Same as yours, I guess my safe word can be ‘spruce’?” he almost made the second sentence a question. “You’re fine with this?”

“Should I not be fine with this? We’re both professionals, this is strictly so we’re able to sleep after…”

You didn’t have time to finish your thought as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around him. He pulled your head down to his and parted your lips with his tongue. You greeted it with yours as he lay you down on the bed and ripped your skirt the rest of the way off from the slit you made in it earlier, revealing a custom garter belt that held four more knives on each thigh. At the sight of that he laughed.

“Is that all of them?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked at him through your lashes. “Why don’t you get the rest of this off and find out?” You said, holding up one booted calf and rubbing it against his shoulder.

He growled at you as he ripped the boot off and ran his teeth against the arch of your foot, causing a quiver to run up your leg and ripple through your core. He removed the other boot next and pulled you down until you were straddling him, then he tore through the buttons on your blouse and yanked you up to roll it down your shoulders. Then he took a step back to take a good look at you.

“Sevent… seventeen knives, really?” He said, looking you over.

Aside from the eight knives around your thighs, you had two around each of your calves, four tucked into the waist portion of your special garter belt, and one between your breasts.

“Twenty-four total, along with the coat.” You grinned up at him. “This custom set cost me a pretty penny, so no tearing it off me like an animal.” You said, glancing over at your ruined skirt and blouse.

“I think I’ll let you remove all of that, for my own safety.”

You threw your head back and laughed, then stood up and started to unstrap yourself.

You started with your left leg, removing the small sheath belt on your calf, and placing it on your trunk, then removing the four knives from the thigh before unbuckling it. Then you moved onto your right leg, fully unstrapping everything there before undoing your garter belt completely at the waist. Finally, you undid your very special bra and placed that on top of the impressive pile, turning back to Walker in only your panties and stockings.

He was looking at you with a lust blown gaze and his fists clenching and unclenching at his side. You could see the outline of a very impressive hard on through his tight slacks and felt yourself clench around nothing as a rush of arousal soaked your panties.

“Fuck, Y/N. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You rolled your eyes at him as you strode over, pulling him down for a quick kiss before sinking to your knees. “Low bar there bud, we’ll see if we can improve on that before the night’s out.” You said as you started to undo his belt.

“Um, starting already?”

You gave the outline of his cock a soft nip through his slacks and his hips twitch involuntarily as he took in a sharp intake of breath.

“I mean, I can draw this out if you really want, but I’m pretty sure we’re past the foreplay stage at this point.” You say, pulling down his slacks and boxer briefs to free his extremely impressive cock. It almost slaps you in the face as it bounces back up towards his abdomen. You make eye contact with him as you slowly drag your tongue along the base from root to tip.

“Shit, yeah, you’re right.” He lets out in a quick breath, tilting his head back and screwing his eyes shut.

You give him a wicked grin as you continue staring up through your lashes. Your tongue flicks around the tip a few times, lapping up the trickle of pre-cum that is forming before you slowly take the head of his cock in your mouth, humming around it as you do.

“Jesus, fuck.” He cries as his knees buckle and he lands on the bed with a huff. You slide forward on your knees to follow him and dip your hand between your legs to coat it in your own arousal, before gripping his length and sucking on first one velvety sack, then the other.

His breathing is becoming irregular as he stares at you through hooded eyes. You take his cock in your mouth again and he wraps your hair around his fist as you start to slowly move your head up and down, taking him in a little deeper each time. You feel his tip hit the back of your throat and start to breathe through your nose as you swallow around his cock.

“Shit,” he exclaims as he falls back and places a second hand on the back of your head as he starts to fuck his hips up into your mouth. “Y/N, I’m gonna cum.”

His hips stutter as he tries to pull out, but you get your own hands under his hips to hold him in place. He lets out a low groan and you feel his release running hot snakes down your throat. You continue swallowing around his softening dick until your sure he has nothing left to give you, then you release him with a pop and wipe the drool from your chin.

You slowly kiss and lick your way up his torso, dipping your tongue into the ripples between his muscles and making low, humming noises as you do. His ragged breathing has started to even out as you reach his neck, running your teeth along his pulse point and nipping at his jaw before you place your mouth over his and flick your tongue along his bottom lip.

“Good for you, baby?” You ask against his lips, feeling the scratch of his stubble and moustache against your soft skin as you gently pull on his lips with your teeth.

You feel him grin against your mouth as answer before his tongue meets yours.

“Fucking great, your turn now.”

You only have a second to prepare as he wraps his hands around the outside of your thighs and yanks you up the bed with a yelp until your straddling his face. He buries his face against your silk covered mound and gives a sharp inhale before he starts kissing and softly biting at the skin of your inner thighs, his facial hair scratching at the sensitive skin.

“Take these things off.” He says, pulling at your panties with his teeth before letting them snap back into place as you let out a strangled gasp.

You somehow manage to remove them from the awkward position you’re in and as soon as they’re gone, August drags his tongue along your slit at an agonizingly slow pace.

Your brain short circuits and you have to brace both your hands against the headboard so you don’t collapse onto his face. He moves a hand up to palm your breast, working your pebbled nipple in between his fingers as his tongue circles your clit.

“God, honey, you taste amazing.” He murmured against you before shoving his tongue inside your cunt and making you scream. “You gonna cum all over my…”

You cut him off by grinding your pussy into his face. “Stop talking.” You hiss at him. You can feel your orgasm building and want relief as soon as possible.

You feel his smile against you as he starts fucking you with his mouth in earnest, wrapping his arms around your thighs before he starts sucking on your clit.

The sight of those forearms around your legs combined with the soft hums and moans he’s making against your skin send you teetering over the edge. You feel yourself clench around his tongue and let out a cry, your body tightening and releasing as wave after wave of pleasure wrack you.

When you had finally finished, August slowly rolled you over and softly kissed down your leg as he lowered you onto the pillows. You groaned and arched your back when he stopped, hating the loss of sensation. Your heart was still beating like crazy as you propped yourself up on your elbows to gaze at him.

His hair was damp with sweat as it tumbled into his eyes in loose curls. He raked his fingers back through it to push it out of his face, and you saw that his moustache and stubble were soaked with your slick as he licked his lips and stared at you. You let out a low moan and bit your lip as you felt desire pool at your core once more. You pulled his face down to yours and started cleaning the evidence of your orgasm from his facial hair with your lips as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You felt him harden against you as he began rocking his hips, sliding his cock against your swollen clit and you let out a small whine.

“Ready again so soon sweetheart?” He murmured into your ear, nuzzling himself in the small hollow behind the hinge of your jaw. He slips one hand underneath you and presses you into him further, coating his cock in your arousal.

“Fuck.” You hiss. “Jesus, get inside me now.”

“Condom?”

“I’m on the pill.”

He smiles against your neck as his hips still and he lines himself up at your entrance. You let out a strangled cry as he slams into you, bottoming out immediately.

“Fuck, you’re so tight honey.” He growls into your neck as he stops moving completely.

After a few beats of stillness, you speak up.

“August, I kind of need you to move.”

“Yeah, just give me a second.” You feel his face screwed up against your neck as he holds you there. He’s trying not to come like a teenager two pumps into their first warm cunt. He pulls out of you halfway before slowly pushing back in, and your hands scramble on his back, begging him to pick up the pace as you flutter around him. He finally starts fucking into you at a steady rhythm as you take in a sharp breath.

As he starts to pick up the pace, he takes your left leg from around his waist and moves it so your ankle is propped on his shoulder. He places small bites along your ankle as he presses his thumb into the arch of your foot, causing you to clench around him and gasp, screwing your eyes closed as he edges you closer and closer. You feel his grin against your calf as his hand moves to your upper back and he pulls you up to mouth at your breast, rolling your hardened nipple between his tongue and teeth.

“August!” you let out a scream at the new position. The change in angles has him hitting your sweet spot over and over, and now he is slamming into you fast. “I’m gonna cum!”

“That’s right baby, scream for me.” He pulls you up flush against him and you wrap your arms around his neck so he can stabilize himself against the wall. The hand he isn’t using for balance slides in between you, using two fingers to work your clit as he fucks you harder and harder while kissing you deeply. The bed frame sounds like it’s about to fall apart as he fucks you into the headboard.

You cry into his mouth as the tension in your core snaps and you fly apart around him. Your cunt clenches and flutters as you feel yourself turn to jelly, sinking back onto the pillows as he continues to fuck into you at a punishing speed, a hand on each of your hips as he pulls you onto him over and over.

You feel yourself building again quickly as his cock starts to twitch inside you and your velvety walls constrict around him again. You don’t know if you can handle another orgasm at this point.

He looks down at you as his pace becomes irregular and gives you a wicked grin. “C’mon baby, give me one more.”

You let out a low moan as he presses a thumb to your overworked clit and you spasm up off the bed as your pleasure is released. You feel all the muscles in your core tremble from the strain, and your previously forgotten rib injury makes itself known.

August isn’t far behind you and you feel his hips stutter as his release coats your walls and he hisses your name through clenched teeth before collapsing on top of you and burying his face in your neck. You feel him starting to soften as he slides out of you and he rolls to the side breathing heavily. You lay next to each other for a few moments, waiting for your heart rates to slow down and breathing to regulate before you even try to move or talk. It’s been a while since either of you have been so thoroughly fucked, and you didn’t realize how much you needed it until this moment. You finally come down from your post-fuck high, and groan as you sit up and try to head to the bathroom, knees almost giving out once you stand up. Walker starts laughing behind you and you turn to throw a pillow at his head, which he catches in mid-air. Once your sea legs are back, you make your way to the bathroom for a post-fuck piss. You hear a muttered “Shit” from the bedroom, and the rattle of jostled furniture, and start cackling as you start to run the shower.

“God a shower will be great.” Walker says as he stumbles into view, still pretty obviously fuck-drunk.

“It’s a whore’s bath for you. I can’t believe your stitches stayed in place during all of that, there’s no way I’m letting you ruin them now.”

“You’re so fucking bossy, I oughta…”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish that thought as there is a sudden pounding on the door. You both snap into alert stances as you toss a robe at him and wrap one around yourself quickly. He grabs his gun and takes up a stance behind the door, then gives you a nod once he’s ready, jaw clenched in preparation. You swing the door open to find Mdm. Eberle, the 80-year-old innkeeper, standing there with her even more ancient husband, holding what you can only assume was a previously decorative rifle from the 1700s that they had hauled down from above the fireplace.

“Madame Trellier,” she whimpers at you. “The room below you heard screaming and horrible noises and we… oh.” She trails off once she gets a good look at you.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror before you answered the door, and there was really no other way to describe your appearance than well fucked. Your hair was bunched up and mussed, your mascara was running, and there were love bites running down your neck and on to your chest. Not that the state of the room was any better. Your discarded clothes were still in plain view, and you now noticed a small crack running up the wall behind the headboard that definitely wasn’t there before.

Mssr. Eberle’s look abruptly change from a scowl to childish glee as he gave you a toothless grin while Mdm. Eberle covered her mouth with one hand as a flush crept up to her face.

You started to apologize profusely when Walker chose this moment to stride out from behind the door with a cocky grin on his face, wrap his hand around your waist, and give you a kiss on the neck before heading into the bathroom.

Poor Mdm. Eberle started spluttering while her husband started cackling, assuring you that there was no need to apologize as she started scurrying away. Mssr. Eberle gave you a lecherous wink before following her, and you closed the door behind them with a sigh.

“Stay out of that shower!” You scolded Walker as you headed into the bathroom, ready to get back to the States already so you could debrief and maybe actually be home for the holidays. You didn’t even notice the cellphone you had collected from your attackers was now on the bedside table, laying on top of an electromagnet.

END

More A/N: Y’all, I had way too much fun with this one. I actually enjoyed writing the non-smut portion as much as the sweet, smutty goodness. I also think I maybe have a bad boy kink? Who knows, we’ll explore further.

Happy Hoelidays!

#happyhoelidays2020 #smut #reader insert #christmas gifts #fanfic #fanfiction

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wazzupmrstark · 4 years

Text

breaking curfew [part thirteen] || th x reader

A/N: shoutout to my gf @httpchrisevans for helping me with a line i was stuck on lol

Summary: When you got the job to be a counselor at the summer camp you’d grown up attending all your life, you expected to see some familiar faces. But you certainly hadn’t counted on having to work alongside the boy who had made it his life’s mission to make your life a living hell every summer. In fact, you thought you’d never have to see Tom Holland again. But he’s is in the cabin right across from yours with campers of his own- smirk, jawline, and all. If you didn’t know any better you might’ve thought that he applied for the position just to spite you, but who were you kidding? What kind of asshole would do something like that?

Warnings: swearing, angst

What I listened to while writing: the breaking curfew playlist by @cinnamon-roll-peter

Word Count: 2.6k

Series Masterlist

You spent a good fifteen minutes ironing your polo in Zendaya’s cabin after your shower that morning. You needed it to look as pristine in order to make a good impression on the parents this weekend. Well, as good of an impression as you could make with your arm in a neon cast.

Parent’s weekend couldn’t have come at a worse time for you. You already were a mess inside and out, and after that conversation with Fy you didn’t feel like doing anything other than crawling into bed and and hibernating for a few weeks until camp was over so you never had to face him or Tom ever again.

“Jesus, y/n, I think all the wrinkles are out! You’re going to burn the fucking shirt if you keep doing that!” Z shouted and leapt off her bed to grab the iron from your hands.

“Sorry, I just want it to look presentable,” you apologized and took a step back, rubbing your temples.

“It looks fine, babe. Any stiffer and I don’t think you’d be able to put it on.” She gave you a sideways look. “You okay?”

It was no use lying to her because she could always tell when you were so you just shook your head.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You gave another shake of your head and sighed. “I can’t start crying right now, we’ve got to go deal with these parents in like five minutes.”

“Is it about Tom because I’m still taller than him, I can still beat him up.”

“Is it ever not about Tom?”

Z screwed up her face in distaste. “Bastard.”

“Easy, Tiger, you don’t even know what he’s done yet.”

“I don’t need to know, he's an asshole.”

She had a point. “You have a point. But if anyone’s gonna beat him up it’s me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’d spend my life savings to see that.”

“Oh and what is that, twenty bucks?”

“What is that twenty bucks?” she repeated mockingly and flipped you off.

You rolled your eyes. “Can you just get over here and help me with my shirt?”

Buttons were harder to do with one hand and on normal days you’d just take the extra time to painstakingly fasten them yourself, but since your best friend was right there you figured you might as well make her useful.

Once your shirt was buttoned all the way up and tucked into your khaki shorts (the uniforms were literally the best birth control) you made the trek back to your own cabin to wait for the parents.

All the campers were at the dining hall for breakfast with the bonus counselors because the primaries were supposed to greet the parents at their cabins to avoid all the chaos... and potential tears, which meant you’d have to put on your best smile and pretend like everything was perfectly fine. It had seemed easy enough to do merely an hour ago, but now even thinking about it was making your head spin.

But you’d have to do your best to push all of that down because a thin, blonde lady was making her way towards you with an expectant look on her face. You recognized her as May’s mother, and it didn’t surprise you that she was first.

She reintroduced herself and shook your hand. “So how did you break your arm again?” she asked, not wasting any time. “It wasn’t while doing anything dangerous, was it?”

An email had been sent by your boss to all of the parents/guardians of your campers detailing the entire situation when it had happened just to keep them in the loop, but clearly this woman wanted to hear it straight from the source. It was evident that she’d been agonizing about it for weeks, wondering if her child was actually safe here.

“No,” you reassured her, “it was during a counselors-only activity, don’t worry. There weren’t any campers involved.”

She seemed to relax a little and laughed artificially. “Oh good, my husband and I were a little spooked when we got that email, but I’m glad you’re doing okay.”

She actually hadn’t asked how you were doing and obviously didn’t really care either way so you just forced a smile. “Thank you.”

Then before she could mention anything else Grace’s dads arrived with Amalia’s parents not far behind. They each exchanged niceties with you before falling into amicable chatter amongst themselves, leaving you to hang back in silence.

You were grateful not to have to participate and instead rocked back and forth on your heels as you anxiously waited for your campers to get back from breakfast.

They’d been so excited last night while deep cleaning the cabin in preparation, they didn’t even complain about their chores. Theo had even offered to help the other girls with their tasks so it could get done faster, but secretly you knew she was only doing it because she was a bit of a perfectionist and wanted everything to be just so for the special weekend.

Eva’s parents arrived next, then finally Theo’s mom jogged up to the porch just in time for the kids to return from the caf.

There was a lot of loud chatter and laughter as the families hugged and got reacquainted with each other and it made your heart ache just a little. You remembered what it was like to be that young, to drag your mom and dad around campus for the entire weekend and ramble on about all of your activities and new friends and whatever else you could think of. You had to catch them up on everything they missed, tell them all of the stories you’d been saving all summer. The nostalgia was like a punch in the stomach on top of everything else and suddenly you weren’t sure if you’d actually be able to pull this weekend off.

You gave them a few more minutes to talk before getting the parents’ attention and inviting everyone inside for a family circle time.

The girls excitedly showed their parents their bunks and pointed out all of the decorations that had accrued on the walls of the cabin since the beginning of the summer. The coloring pages from that very first day, art projects and medals from daily activities, postcards from family, and dozens of developed pictures of the girls from your disposable camera hung up around the room. Your favorite was a photo of the six of you at the Wild West night from a couple weeks ago. Everyone had a different colored plastic cowboy hat on and was posing back to back with a partner holding up finger guns. You were back to back with Eva and the height difference between the two of you was absolutely ridiculous. Just looking at the picture made you laugh.

Once everyone settled on the floor you cleared your throat and started the programming.

“Good morning, it’s great to see you all again, glad you could make it. I’m y/n, cabin eleven counselor, and we’re so excited to get to share our camp life with you for the next few days! First, I’m just gonna go over the itinerary for the weekend and then you can hit me with any questions you have before we head down for the big group meeting.”

“How’re your kids’ parents?” Tom asked at lunch later that day as he casually brushed up against your ass.

You whipped around and smacked his hand away almost immediately out of instinct. Tom gave you a look like a wounded puppy and retracted his hand.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, still looking confused. “Are you... okay?”

“I-” you looked up and caught the eye of one of your parents back at your table and smiled painfully. “Yeah, I’m good.”

For whatever reason he pretended to buy it and shrugged. “Okay, well listen, I’ve been thinking and I was wondering if you’d consider switching activities back to arts and crafts with me?”

You almost dropped the jello you were putting on your tray, but Tom caught it smoothly before it fell.

“What?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to come back to arts and crafts...” he trailed off awkwardly, “because, you know, we’re kind of in a different place now.”

When you didn’t say anything he continued to stumble on. “I, uh, just thought it would be nice to spend more time together... not having sex.”

You opened your mouth but words wouldn’t come out.

“Whaddya say?”

It was hard to remember why you were mad at him when he looked at you like that. But it was also hard to forget what he had done.

“Y/n?”

“Um, I have to go,” you said suddenly and turned on your heel. “My arm is hurting. I have to go get my pain meds.”

“Wait, y/n-”

As you hurried out of the cafeteria you threw a look over your shoulder at Nicole asking to take over for you until you got back. You hoped she got the message.

It felt like the whole caf was watching as you ran out of the room, leaving Tom standing there by himself. Your campers didn’t even blink as you rushed by them. They were pretty used to it at this point.

The noise from inside faded into the background as soon as you stepped onto the grass. You looked around and realized you didn’t know where exactly you were running to, much less what you were really running from.

You didn’t want to go to your cabin just in case Tom or someone else went after you. You didn’t want to go down to the lake where everyone could see you either. The bonus cabin wasn’t an option and neither was the canoe shed. You wanted to scream. For the first time in your life you felt trapped in your favorite place on earth. It was suffocating, being stuck on this mountain with all the people from your past, but there was nowhere to go.

You ended up sunken down in the back seat of your van, playing with your keys as tears streamed down your face. It felt stupid to cry. You’d known Tom for over half your life, and you’d known exactly the kind of person he was when you started sleeping with him. You really played yourself with that one.

You wished you could spend the rest of your day hiding from Tom in your car, but you still had a cabin full of campers and their parents waiting for you. You couldn’t stick them with Nicole for too long. She had her own responsibilities to take care of this weekend too.

Your girls were ecstatic to have their parents in town. It was all they talked about that evening after they were dropped back off at the cabin.

“My dad said your cast is cool,” Grace said as she climbed into her bed.

You finished looping a hair tie on the end of Theo’s braid and looked up. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, he said he had one too when he was your age and that casts make you look cool, but my other dad just laughed at him and said he wishes.”

“Well, tell him I say thank you,” you laughed.

As your campers finished getting ready for bed you went around the room like you always did and picked up anything that was lying on the floor. You kicked some stray shoes under the beds so no one would trip on them in the middle of the night and turned off the light before saying your good nights.

“Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite!”

They had started saying it back to you just recently and they were slowly getting better at saying it all in unison too. It made every night a little sweeter.

You expected your mind to be swimming with thoughts of Tom that night, but you found yourself thinking about your girls instead. Parents weekend had always been bittersweet for you because as fun as it was, it also meant that the end of the summer was right around the corner. You felt like you had just started to get to know your campers and now in just a few weeks you’d be saying goodbye.

It was Sunday evening when Tom managed to corner you next. You had spent all weekend avoiding him by sticking close to the parents in your group, always pretending to be engaged in a conversation when he came anywhere near you. And it always worked, but now the parents were gone and you had to fend for yourself. It felt oddly similar to being dropped off at college for the first time and feeling completely lost.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asked you as you walked up to Harrison’s cabin.

It was then that you realized that you’d fallen into a trap. Haz had texted you asking to bring the geocaching clues over to his cabin so he could go plot the course for tomorrow when really he was probably just doing a favor for Tom by getting you here.

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” you lied, biting your lip as you did.

“That’s bullshit, you haven’t talked to me all weekend, you haven’t texted me back, you’ve been ignoring me-”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you gave a fuck about me all of the sudden,” you snapped bitterly and pushed past him to go back down the stairs.

“Wha- I was just worried!” Tom said defensively and sidestepped back in front of you.

“About me?”

“Well, yeah,” he admitted. “I’m sorry if I made things weird by asking about arts and crafts. We don’t have to have that sort of relation-er, friendship if you don’t want to.”

You never thought you’d hear Tom say the word friendship in reference to you. The word alone sounded foreign rolling off his tongue, like it was something he wasn’t really sure about.

You scoffed. “This isn’t about that.”

“Then what is it about?” he asked, practically begging now.

“It’s about you spending over a fucking decade trying to embarrass me!”

Tom looked bewildered. “Are you kidding me? That’s what this is about?”

“And don’t you dare say we were just kids, or that it wasn’t that big of a deal because it was a big deal. To me.” He still looked confused so you decided to spell it out for him. “Why did you tell Fy that I had a crush on you that summer?”

The memory flickered in front of Tom’s eyes as he realized what you were talking about and his expression shifted into one you couldn’t read.

“I spent weeks trying to figure out why he stopped talking to me, wondering what I had done wrong to make him not want to be friends with me anymore.” You were crying again, but this time you didn’t care. “Then one day after total radio silence I get a note from him saying to meet me on the dock after curfew? And you show up instead? Don’t you realize how fucked up that is? And now all these years later I let myself fall for you like all the girls I swore I’d never be. I fell for you even though you made my life hell every summer for years, even though you hated me and I didn’t even know why-” you stopped to catch your breath and sighed, shaking your head. “It’s... it’s fucking embarrassing.”

“Y/n,” Tom reached out for your shoulder, but you jerked away. Only then did you realize that he was also crying. He took a step back and pushed a hand through his curls like he did when he was trying to get his thoughts together. “Fuck, I- I messed up really bad.”

“You don’t say?” you chuckled dryly and rolled your eyes.

“No, you don’t understand,” he insisted.

“Enlighten me then.”

“I only signed that note as Fy because I knew you wouldn’t show up if it was from me.”

idk why this part was so hard to get out but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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#breaking curfew #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland series #tom holland angst #tom holland imagine #tom holland enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers

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egcdeath · 3 years

Text

secret santa

pairing: ransom drysdale x f!reader

a/n: this is so self indulgent. SO SELF INDULGENT. more self indulgent than anyone will ever be able to comprehend. before u all read this, i want u to know it was originally supposed to be about training ransom at a job, but then i realized that i nothing about 1. working at a coffee shop and 2. training an employee. also, i am the worst at writing dialogue. so i didn’t write a lot of dialogue LMAO enjoy :)

also, half of this was written at 1 am. just a warning

warnings: coffee shop au, enemies (kinda) to lovers, a lil fluff, not really angst but bitter feelings, kinda slow burn and then all the sudden a fast burn i’m sorry 😭

word count: 2.6k

You woke up to the sound of your alarm rumbling your bedside table sometime around the asscrack of dawn, and rubbed your eyes with a groan. Sometimes, you really couldn’t stand your job, but bills didn’t really pay themselves, did they? You rolled out of bed, and began your dreaded morning routine before heading out to start your opening shift at your local café.

Somewhere between warming up the espresso machine and taking out last night’s trash (which you shouldn’t have had to do in the first place), an older, yet expensive looking car pulled up to the front of the parking lot. You were a bit confused, as you’d never seen this vehicle, and it was quite clear that you weren’t exactly open yet. You watched as a tall man hopped out of the car, wearing a large peacoat and very unnecessary sunglasses. He approached the door, gave it a knock, then waited for you to come open it for him. Reluctantly, you made your way over, and in order to keep yourself safe, began to speak through the glass.

“Can I help you?” You asked in an annoyed tone, then gestured towards the piece of paper that labeled your hours on the door. There was no reason for any customer to be here this early. You looked up at the mystery man and made a rather intense eye contact with him. If this was any indicator of your crowd today, work was going to be far from pleasant.

“Yeah, I was told that I’m starting today?” He had a wicked smirk on his face, like he knew he was getting under your skin already. You hated people like him, and couldn’t believe that he could possibly be your coworker. On the bright side, he probably wouldn’t last long in the first place.

“Well, are you sure you’re here on time? I can’t see any situation where Melissa would schedule to open for your very first shift.” You commented with a furrowed brow.

“Eh, I kinda just figured I’d come in whenever. The girl in my bed was an early riser, so I thought to myself ‘Why not just come in now?’” He said casually.

“Your name?” You inquired, trying to keep your annoyance to yourself, and put on a customer service smile.

“Hugh, or Ransom,” he responded. You turned around, allowed yourself a huff and eye roll, then walked through the kitchen, and into the break room to check if he truly was a new employee, or just some random creep. Sure enough, a bright pink post-it note in very neat handwriting confirmed this man’s existence. You made your way back to the door, unlocked it, and let him in.

“Since you’re here, you should… set down the chairs,” you told him, less than entertained by his presence. You could just tell he was bad news. This Ransom guy was like the textbook definition of a red flag. He talked your ear off while you tried to get through your opening routine, some casual remarks about his last hookup, complaints about how he only got this job because his mother was a regular and good friends with your manager, and how he was threatened to get cut out of his grandfather’s will if he didn’t get employed soon, and what better way to spite your family than to mess up their daily coffees.

Eventually, a few more of your coworkers, along with your manager, Melissa, made it to the café before the morning rush began. You were sitting down at your typical barstool spot, and sipping an iced Americano when Melissa broke the news to you that you would be training the new employee. Upon hearing the news, you audibly groaned, and rubbed your forehead. There was no way that you could handle this man.

-------

During his first week, Ransom not only managed to offer (and successfully give) six customers his phone number, break two mugs, mess up more orders than even Euclid could comprehend, and spill straws a multitude of times all over the floor, but he began to flirt with you relentlessly. You had no idea why you’d become his new target of choice, when it was clear that he could have literally anyone he wanted. Maybe he liked that you were playing hard to get.

If you were being honest, you had to accept that he was handsome. And rich. And the definition of a fuckboy. And since you were being frank with yourself, you had to acknowledge that you were attracted to that ‘toxic and will treat you like shit’ kind of guy. You had a roster of ex boyfriends to prove that for you.

---

It was a pretty slow Tuesday afternoon, which meant you were sitting on your phone until a customer placed an order. Eventually, the little bell above the door chimed, and an older man came through, ordering a dark and bitter drink, then standing by the counter to wait. You began to restock lids while Ransom took care of making the drink, and once it was ready, you passed it over to the man. The man in question took a rather large sip, then promptly spat it out.

“What the fuck is this!” He roared, barely giving you time to react before he proceeded to toss the drink at you, spilling most of the hot content on your apron.

You gasped, gawking down at your scorched and ruined clothing, then up at the customer, who’d turned around with a huff and left, leaving a stream of strong language on his way out. You bit back tears at the whole fiasco, and cringed as both the steamy drink, and your salty tears stung different parts of your body. You turned to look at the barista, who had passed you along the drink, and were met with no other than the white devil himself. It seemed that all the blood had drained from his already otherwise pale face.

“Oh my god, this is all my fault,” he began remorsefully. “Let me make it up to you somehow.”

“Whatever,” you huffed, running a hand through your hair, and shoving Ransom angrily while you more or less stomped into the staff bathroom.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and frowned before bringing up your bundled apron to your face and screaming into it. Stupid fucking customers. Stupid fucking job. Stupid fucking Ransom. It’s like he came to your job just to make it hell. You were tired of cleaning up all these messes for him, and honestly, you wish he’d just quit already. The longer you worked with him, the more tempted you were to pour sugar in his gas tank, then take a club and break all the windows in the Beemer.

------

For the next month, your brain was completely elsewhere at work. Your brain was constantly going back and forth with you between finding Ransom hot and horrendous. While the pair of you finished up closing one night, you heard your coworker begin to speak to you as you placed your hand on the keys in your pocket.

“I know you hate me, Y/N. I get it. What that guy did to you was awful, and yes it was my fault, but what else have I done to hurt you?” He asked, seemingly out of the blue. You weren’t even sure how to respond. Ignoring the man and demonizing him in your head had become almost a second nature. “I mean, I think we could’ve been good friends. Even though you seem to think I’m devil incarnate, I think you’re a pretty cool chick-“ he continued before being cut off by you.

“Why do you even care?” you burst out, “Ransom, you just don’t get it do you? You’re just.. a douchebag. I get it, you have your moments where you’re candid and open with people, but half of the time you’re talking, you’re objectifying someone. Or bragging about something you own. Don’t get me wrong, I could get past what you did to me on accident, but you seriously have to work on yourself,” the words just seemed to pour out without your control. “Goodnight, Ransom,” you said simply before leaving the café for the night.

——

Since that day, the tension between you and Ransom had evidently become more thick. Since he was finally finished training with you, you made sure to only speak to him if you absolutely needed to, and even then, you only communicated with him in brief and straightforward answers. Sure, it seemed like a small thing to be upset about, and sure, he’d apologized, but something told you that any excuse to stay away from Ransom was a good excuse.

Though he appeared to be an immoral and selfish man, he seemed genuinely sorry for all that he’d put you through. Occasionally, you’d be sitting in the break room and look up from your phone to see him watching you. When you’d make eye contact, he would look like he wanted to say something to you, but your petty ass would leave, or look back at your phone. He was bad news anyway.

Your boss quickly caught onto what was going on between the two of you, and usually, Melissa didn’t like to participate in petty drama, but your new sour mood was such a stark contrast from before, and it seemed to shift the whole mood of the café.

That afternoon, Melissa called for a team meeting a bit before closing, and suggested a family dinner along with a Secret Santa. She’d said something along the lines of ‘It’s been way too long since we’ve done a team bonding activity, and a gift exchange is perfectly fitting for the Holiday season.’ This did make you perk up, as Melissa had a great taste in restaurants, and you were always down for a good gift exchange.

Melissa then told everyone to write their names down, then put them in a decorative Santa hat. You and your coworkers obliged, then began to pass around the hat once again in order to draw a name. You really hoped to get Xavier. You had the perfect idea of something he’d love. As you drew a piece of paper from the hat, you imagined the matching pair of fluffy socks for a human and dog that you’d passed by during your last trip to Target. You began to unfold it, thinking of what color he might like the most, when you looked down and saw ‘Ransom’ drawn out in chicken scratch.

You tried your best to mask your annoyance at who you received, but on the inside, you were seething. You mentally cursed the universe out while you pulled on your coat, and grimaced to yourself once you got out to your car. How were you supposed to get this asshole a gift?

—-

The week leading up to the exchange went fairly well for you, although it was getting a bit exhausting to be so mad at Ransom all the time. You tried to be less harsh with him, considering you needed to learn more about him in order to get him a somewhat decent gift for your exchange.

He’d seem to have taken your conversation with him to heart, and began to talk less and less about other girls when he was working with you. He didn’t comment on how well your jeans fit you, and you noticed that he’d often overextend himself in order to help you with (pretty basic) daily aspects of the job. Ransom would ask you questions about yourself, and your family, and speak less about himself. If you were honest with yourself, he was becoming a better man. And the best part was, he seemed to be doing it just for you. The thought of which brought heat to your face.

—

On the night of the exchange, you threw on a hideous and scratchy Christmas sweater before picking up your neatly wrapped gift for Ransom. You truly hoped that he’d like it, even though it certainly wasn’t the most expensive item. You bid farewell to your cat, then went on your way to the restaurant. You had to admit, you were a bit late. So it should’ve been no surprise when you arrived, and found that the only seat left at the table was next to Ransom. You gave him a cordial smile before sitting down and ordering yourself a glass of Merlot.

Something about being so close to him was kind of riling you up. The strong timbre sent coming off of him was making your whole body feel slightly warmer than normal, and you tried to ignore this strange sensation while you talked and joked with your coworkers. At one point, Ransom leaned in nice and close to you, and began to speak to you.

“Jesus Christ, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as hideous as Karmen’s sweatshirt,” he whispered right into the shell of your ear. Maybe it was the wine talking, but that simple action sent a whole chill through your body, and made you flush even harder than you’d flushed before. You let out a little giggle and nodded in agreement, looking across the table at her very ugly sweater.

“To be fair, the whole point of this was to wear something really ugly,” you turned your head back to where it was before, only to find that Ransom had somehow moved even closer to you.

“I just don’t know where you find something like that,” he commented, gazing much too deep into your eyes. You swore you felt the room shift after he began looking at you like that. There was about a 20% chance that you’d be able to keep your panties on after this kind of exchange. Luckily for you, a waitress broke the tension for you, setting down a few plates for everyone, then bidding them farewell. Damn.

The food was amazing, and didn’t last very long, meaning that it was time to pass gifts around sooner than later. You watched as Amy received a gift card from Sophie, Emily opened a plethora of chocolates gifted to her by Melissa, and Xander whiffed a candle given to him by Kennedy, then, it was your turn. You glanced around the table before you felt the arm next to you reach down, then hand you an oversized gift bag.

“I hope you like it,” Ransom said with a shy smile. You casually felt your cheeks on your way to pull out the very large item. You found it was a very large, and soft, hand knit blanket. It looked like it could’ve cost a small fortune, and you immediately found yourself embarrassed.

“Oh wow. This is perfect! Thank you so much,” you grinned over at your coworker, who seemed to be blushing himself. “Well, I guess I should probably give you this then,” you chuckled awkwardly before passing him your wrapped package. He tore it open barbarically, then began to laugh. Of all the gifts in the world, you two had gotten each other somewhat similar items. Sure, it wasn’t hand knit with the love of some grandma who ran a small business on Etsy, but it was the thought that counts.

“I love it, Y/N,” he exclaimed, looking deep into your eyes once again. He ran his fingers through the soft fabric, then set a hand on your arm. In that moment, it felt like time stopped. It was just you two, sitting in a quiet room, enjoying the presence of each other. You don’t even know what had gotten into you, but before you knew it, you felt a nose pressed up against yours, and a billion butterflies erupt out of your stomach. You heard a few grimaces from your coworkers at the sappy, Hallmark-like moment but what could you say.

Maybe Ransom was not that bad after all.

#ransom thrombey x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale x you #knives out fanfic #hey i wrote that lol

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celosiaa · 4 years

Note

hi friend!!! PLEASE keep in mind there is NO RUSH or ANY REQUIREMENT TO WRITE THIS IF YOU DON'T FEEL LIKE WRITING I'M JUST GIVING PROMPT BECAUSE YOU SAID YOU FEEL LIKE WRITING AND I LOVE YOUR WRITING!! what about canon-era POTS Jon? infections can cause really bad POTS flares (my understanding is that it lowers your BP). it could be after any of his many injuries, but even just a cold can mess with it. and ONLY IF YOU FEEL BORED AND UP TO WRITING <3 TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF!!

hello my dear!!!! you are going THROUGH IT right now!!!! I love you very very much and I hope that this fic will make your day a little brighter <3

So have a little Jon with the flu and a POTS flare up! And friends who love him!

CW nausea, fainting

This was a mistake.

Jon knows it, his body knows it—the entire train car probably knows it too. It’s barely a ten minute’s ride from his flat to the Institute, but it might as well have been an hour trapped in a boiler room for all he can tell. Suffocating, you’re suffocating—is the only message his brain will send him, as he sits squeezed in between two very unfortunate passengers on this snowy Monday morning, trying very hard both not to cough and to stop himself from tearing off his coat and scarf this instant.

Being ill always hits him hard—far harder than it has any right to; harder than he is willing to acknowledge, really—as it always seems to trigger his POTS in the most frustrating of ways. Last time he’d been ill, truly ill, Tim may have paid the price for his stubbornness more than he had himself. What with him refusing to do anything to look after himself, being caught by surprise by a fainting spell, and ending up dragging Tim to the A&E with him to be treated for a nasty head wound. This time around, he has actually taken several precautions, with his compression stockings on, a water bottle, and TENS unit in his bag, just in case the muscle aches from whatever hell bug he’s managed to catch compound the pain from his EDS.

Tim ought to be proud.

Mouth twisting in a smile in spite of himself, Jon resists the urge to bolt out of the train car as soon as the stop is announced, forcing himself instead to stand slowly and carefully before exiting.

—

As luck would have it, the lift had been broken down, forcing Jon to climb the flight of stairs up to the street. Legs nearly giving out on him before he could half-sit, mostly collapse onto the bench at the top, his chest heaves as he tries to convince his body not to faint. With somewhat limited success.

So long as the fading in and out of his vision is not followed by a lapse in awareness, he’ll be alright.

Suffocating suffocating

Whether rational or not, Jon has to pull of his coat and scarf right now, or he’s sure his brain will short out on him completely. He tears at it all as quickly as possible, fingers shaking over the large buttons of his peacoat. Anything to relieve the pressure on his chest, whether brought on by POTS or his congestion, he’s soon to find out. Preferably, he’d like to slow down his breathing a bit before coughing again, but there’s very little he can do to control that—and buries it all in the folds of his scarf, hoping to avoid as many stares from passers-by as possible.

The lightheadedness only bangs against his eyes again as the fit continues, forcing him to fold his legs beneath himself and bend forward in an effort to breathe, breathe. Surely it hadn’t been so bad this morning when he had stepped out of the door—he had been quite certain of his ability to control it enough to get by, and hopefully without raising the alarm about his health throughout the archives. By the sound of it, though, he just hadn’t been getting deep enough breaths to force it all out, as the crackling depth of it alarms even him.

All the same, after a few minutes of breathing deeply with marginally-clearer lungs, he feels finally able to look up again—even shuddering against the soft padding of snowflakes against his shoulders and greying hair, rather than panicking about being boiled alive by his own jacket.

He’ll take what improvement he can get.

Steeling himself to walk the block down to the Institute, Jon pulls up his compression stockings from where they had slipped a bit and pushes on.

—

“So I’m sitting there, right? I’m sitting there, barbecue sauce on my titties…”

“You were NOT!” Sasha bellows at Tim, struggling to raise her voice over the sound of Martin’s cackling. “Don’t encourage him, Martin, he always puts this in his fucking stories.”

“HEY! It’s true!! It could have happened more than once, you know.”

“God I hate you so much,” she shouts, sending both Martin and Tim for another round of uncontrollable laughter.

It’s the perfect opportunity for Jon—who exits the lift as quickly as he can, heading for his office with the all the single-mindedness of a particularly winded and dizzy man. Perfect, because no one saw him beyond a shadow darkening the doorstep. No one to raise the alarm as he sinks into his chair, trembling at the exertion of making the journey from the lobby to the basement.

Burying his face in his hands, he sniffs back against the congestion plaguing him, adjusts his position to take pressure off his throbbing legs, and tries to collect his scattered thoughts enough to get to work.

—

Spinning, spinning, spinning are the walls of his office around him, worsening with every cough he stifles into the sleeves of his cardigan. After the initial recovery period when he had finally been able to sit in his office, chest aching with exertion, he had truly felt alright for those first couple of hours—even finding himself able to get lost in statements for a while, barely noticing an hour tick by, two, three. Until his vision started to go out again, and he found himself leaning aching elbows on aching knees, feeling the nausea that had caused him to lose his breakfast that morning rise up again in his throat.

Please, not now. Please.

He’s got to get something in him, knows it would help to at least keep something with salt down, if he can manage it. Regretfully, the only way to stop the dizziness is sure to worsen it first—as his emergency Gatorade supply happens to be in the break room refrigerator.

Text Tim, the rational part of his mind supplies at once, the sound advice on it falling on entirely deaf ears.

Can manage this myself.

I put it there, I can go get it.

Wishing more than anything he had brought his walker, he moves slowly, ever so slow and careful to standing—and stars explode in his vision at once, driving him right back down to the chair again, head between his knees and panting.

Damn it damn it damn it

Calm, just—

Calm down.

Heart pounding in double time to the ticking of the clock on the wall, Jon does everything he can to slow it down, slow it down, ease the stabbing pain of his overworked heart in his chest with the deepest breaths he can manage. It’s not enough, can’t see, can’t breathe—

No no no—

—

Thud.

The sound drives Tim into Jon’s office at once, not for the first time—though never with any less worry or concern. Even knowing what happened, that Jon was almost certainly fine, would never truly take away the way his stomach clenches every time this happens, every time he sees Jon hit the ground, even if he’s able to catch him on the way. And today was especially worrying, with the damp coughing he had heard slipping beneath the office door since this morning.

Please be okay please be okay—

“Jon?” he calls gently, swinging the door open to find him on the ground, rolling onto his back with a groan. “Did you faint?”

“I—yeah,” he replies, more vague-sounding than Tim would like, rubbing the back of his head as he starts to sit up.

Not good.

“You hit your head?” Tim asks as he kneels next to him, already reaching forward to card through Jon’s hair, looking for any sign of swelling or bleeding.

“I don’t—not badly, if I—oh,” he trails off at once, eyes beginning to flutter.

“Alright, easy, now,” Tim mutters, supporting Jon’s head as he shifts back to lying flat again, eyes clenched again the returning dizziness. “It’s really bad today, huh? And you’re ill too.”

In response, all Jon will give is a sigh, draping an arm over his mouth as it turns into a cough, before placing it over his eyes. Something twinges in Tim’s chest at the sight—knowing how much Jon hates this, hates anyone fussing over him even more—and squeezes gently above his knee in acknowledgement.

“What can I do? Anything?”

Still nothing verbal from him for a few seconds—seconds Tim is willing to wait as Jon sorts through both his own unwillingness to ask for help, as well as through his own likely-scattered thoughts. It had taken a lot for Jon to tell him about his POTS in the first place—in fact, that trust had not been built until Tim had to take him to A&E after a particularly bad fall. Now that he thinks of it, Jon had been ill then too—and even grouchier than his current persona of “Boss-man.”

“Was trying to—ugh,” starts, cutting off for a moment to clutch at his stomach, against what is most likely rising nausea. “Was trying to get—get some Gatorade.”

“That’s what all this is about? Getting your nasty-ass purple Gatorade?”

When Jon huffs out a little laugh with a smile, Tim feels very much pumping his fist in the air for joy—but refrains, if only for Jon’s sake.

“Tastes good. Don’t know what you’re missing.”

And a joke?

Should I call an ambulance?

“Tastes like purple,” Tim replies, letting a smile filter heavily into his own expression now. “I don’t mess with shit that tastes like a color.”

A sharp gasp from behind alerts him to Martin’s presence in the doorway.

“Oh Jon, what happened? Are you alright?” he asks, with such deep concern that Jon immediately buries his face in his hands and groans.

“Just fainted, is all,” Tim says at once, waving a sharp hand by his throat to cut off his well-meaning sympathy.

“Right,” he replies with raised eyebrows, carefully schooling his expression in a way that Tim very much appreciates. “Right. Anything I can do?”

“Could grab him some Gatorade from the fridge, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“On it,” he nods at once, and sets off.

Just then, Jon starts up coughing again, so harsh and damp it sets Tim’s teeth on edge.

“That sounds rough, Jon,” he grimaces, reaching up to his desk to grab tissues from atop it and set them on the floor.

“It’s—fine,” comes the reply, of course, accented in between by a hitching at the back of his throat that drives him upwards to sitting.

“Right. Sure,” Tim mutters, rolling his eyes as he braces Jon, whose harsh coughing bends him double with effort.

When he begins to sway a bit, eyes fluttering again—Tim is already to prepared to push his head gently forward and between his knees.

“Easy, easy.”

“Fuck.”

“I’ve got you.”

The shaking beneath Tim’s hands is not altogether a rarity after a bad faint, but something tells him there might be another cause this time. A fever, namely.

“When’s the last time you’ve eaten?” he asks, after waiting for Jon’s breathing to come a bit back under control.

“Didn’t—don’t. Don’t feel well,” he whispers, bending even further forward, enough to have Tim reaching for the bin, just in case.

“Alright, that’s alright,” he whispers in response, feeling powerless to do anything but sit and rub his back.

“Tried,” he starts up again after a moment, altogether shocking an unsuspecting Tim with his verbosity.

“Tried? Tried what?”

“Tried to be careful,” he clarifies, coughing once more into his elbow, and letting it double him back down. “Promise, I—heh—tried. Thought I was fine.”

“I know, Jon,” Tim assures at once, rubbing at his back once again against the trembling, wishing it was doing anything to really help him. “I know, alright? Just save your breath. It’s not your fault.”

Thankfully, by the time Martin reappears with the Gatorade, he’s quite a bit steadier, after the coughing fit has reached it’s end. Much to Tim’s surprise, he even offers Martin a small smile as he cast a long shadow through the office, blocking out the fluorescent light of the hall behind him.

“Alright, time for electrolytes!” Tim cheers, as Martin opens the lid to the bottle before handing it to Jon, who begins sipping at it cautiously.

“You’re shaking—are you cold?” Martin asks, already removing his cardigan and kneeling to place it over Jon’s trembling shoulders.

“No,” he snaps sharply, pushing off the cardigan and shifting around, preparing himself to stand. “I’m alright, just—”

“Hang on, hang on,” Tim soothes, pressing back against Jon’s chest as gently as possible to stop his movement. “Just—hold on a second, alright? Let me get the cot set up in here before you try that.”

“Tim—”

“I know, I know, perish the thought. I get it.”

“You don’t—”

“BUT! But,” he cuts in loudly, holding up a hand to shush him. “You shouldn’t even be here, Jon. You’ve probably got the flu, or something, judging by whatever—whatever is clearly going on here. So please. Just have a lie down for, like, an hour. That’s all I’m asking.”

All I’m brave enough to ask, really.

Another pause, during which it’s Tim’s turn for his heart to pound, watching Jon try to formulate an argument against him with furrowed brows.

And then—everything that had been hunched and furrowed goes slack, as Jon starts to sway dizzily again.

“Oh—oh, Jon,” Martin gasps nervously, helping him slowly lower back to lying on the ground.

“M’fine, fine,” he assures, words slurring a bit as Martin checks his forehead for fever—and if the meaningful glance he gives Tim is anything to go by, he can be pretty certain of Martin’s findings.

“Right. Cot. I’m going to get it, and I’ll be back,” he says firmly, glancing back one more time to find Martin carefully placing his cardigan beneath Jon’s head.

Of course, Tim knows there is still a good deal of fighting to do on the “force Jonathan Sims to take care of himself” front, but this will do.

This will have to do for now.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #cw nausea #cw fainting #jon has EDS/POTS #i love you friend I hope you like this #<33333 #my writing

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bnhayyy · 3 years

Text

Caution and the Inverse

Wordcount: 2.6k

Ao3 Link: Click

Summary: Historia comes home to find that her girlfriend had a near-miss with a vampire slayer. Ymir is more concerned about the shirt she ruined.

Notes: This technically takes place between the second and third scene of the third chapter of The Call, but can be read without reading it. Also, thank you to @celadongirl and @mavzell for looking this over for me before I posted it!

A groan arose from the apartment the instant she walked through the door.

"Historiaaaaaaa."

The corners of her lips twitched up at the sound. She couldn't help it; after being called "Krista" all day, it was nice to hear someone call her by her name. Especially that someone - even if her deep, melodious voice was pitched up in a probably-overdramatic whine.

She didn't bother locking the door; there was no need with Ymir around.

Abandoning her supplies on the kitchen table, she strode into the living room with a gentle jibe on her lips. It was rare for Ymir not to walk her back from her evening art class. She could look after herself well enough to handle the walk from campus to her apartment, but she would be remiss to skip out on an opportunity to tease her girlfriend. Especially since it was usually Ymir doing the teasing; her opportunities to turn the tables were made that much more precious by their rarity.

"Yes, you'll see that I have successfully-"

Her words died off as she stepped into the living room and took in the sight before her. Ymir was sprawled across the couch, shirtless and with her hair falling loosely over her shoulders. Historia would have deeply appreciated the sight were it not for the gaping wound in her shoulder.

Only inches away from her heart.

"Ymir!" Historia cried. One hand flew up to cover her mouth, although it did nothing to stop the pickling in her eyes. Horror, sadness, stress - and maybe, if she was honest with herself, anger.

"Historia," Ymir repeated, lifting her head to shoot her a look that was somewhere between a pout and a scowl. "You wouldn't believe what happened to that shirt you gave me."

“Nevermind the shirt!” Historia exclaimed. “What happened!?” She rushed forward as she spoke. Now that she was closer, she could see that Ymir had draped a towel down across the couch. It was spotted with a few bloodstains, but most of them seemed well on their way to drying. Unsurprising; vampires generally didn't bleed much.

So the fact that she had been bleeding that much at all...

Ymir started to shrug, then winced when she jostled her wound. "Turns out slayer one isn't totally incompetent," she said.

Historia's heart skipped a beat as the chill of dread began to wash over her. "The slayer," she said, mouth feeling dry and ashy. Then, "you were provoking the slayer."

"I wouldn't say provoking," Ymir said. A tiny shift in her eyes made her suspect that this was a blatant lie. That and the simple fact that she knew Ymir. "More like testing the waters," she continued. "Big boss vampire like me lurking around, she was about to find out about me eventually. I'd rather it be on my terms than hers."

Historia allowed her expression to fall into something icy and serious. This whole situation was hardly a surprise. She knew that Ymir had been wanting to try her hand against a slayer for a while, and if there really were two of them now, then she wouldn't be able to resist tempting fate for long. That didn't make the situation any less painful and disappointing.

It didn't make it any less dangerous.

"Did you tell her that you don't kill people?" she asked.

Ymir snorted. "I don't think there are many slayers who'd believe that."

"She might," Historia insisted. "You could explain that-"

"-that I don't kill people because my girlfriend would be disappointed in me?" A harsh bark of laughter left Ymir's mouth. "I think that might actually make it worse."

"Ymir, she almost killed you," Historia snapped. "We have to do something to keep her from hunting you down."

For a moment, it looked like Ymir would respond with confidence and bluster; a reassurance about how she could take on a slayer if it came down to it, how she'd been anticipating a fight like this since she was turned. Or maybe she would take a different angle, place emphasis on how she'd be able to handle it quickly and easily. How, aside from this one incident, Historia wouldn't even know it was happening. How it would never place her in danger.

For a moment, it looked like Ymir would rattle off an inflated excuse or empty words. Instead, she took a long look at Historia's face and faltered.

"I'll figure something out," Ymir finally relented. "But I don't want to play my hand too early. Something's going on, and I'm not going to let it catch us off guard."

Historia frowned. There was a lot that she wanted to say. However, before she could give voice to any of it, her gaze was drawn back to Ymir's wound. Not that her attention had ever actually left it. That was rather impossible, given its sheer size, the ragged nature of it, and what it represented.

"I'll be right back," Historia murmured.

As she walked away, Ymir called, "gonna patch me up?"

Despite everything, Historia smiled. "As if you weren't waiting for me," she called back.

"I mean." Ymir's voice grew fainter as she entered the bathroom. However, it was still loud enough to resonate through the little apartment. She could even picture the expressions she was sure she was making. "Who wouldn't, if they had a cute girlfriend to play nurse for them?"

Where her girlfriend's voice seemed to resonate effortlessly, Historia had to strain a little for her reply of, "lazy!"

When she looked into the bathroom mirror, her smile had grown from the small exchange. She felt it fade when she pulled the little door the mirror was on forward to reveal the shelves tucked behind it - and the first aid kit resting on one of them.

Vampires. Slayers. For all of their differences, they were very much the same in one regard. Even the very strongest of them could be just down if they had just one bad day.

And there never seemed to be anything Historia could do to stop it.

She grabbed the first aide kit and closed the cabinet door. With the mirror back in place, her own expression stared back at her. Her smile had been replaced by a look that was tired and haunted.

After a moment of staring, she forced a smile back into place. Bright, cheerful, warm, perfect, it was the exact sort of smile that people would expect from Krista Lenz. Which meant that Ymir would see through it in a second.

That was fine. Right now, Historia needed to know that she at least tried not to let her girlfriend see that it was getting to her more than she needed her to actually believe it.

Unsurprisingly, Ymir's expression, bright and playful in spite of her wound, faded into something concerned and suspicious the moment she saw her face. Historia felt a whisper of guilt for a moment, then immediately pushed it back down.

"What do you think's going on?" she asked as she approached the couch.

Ymir sat up, sweeping her legs to the side so that Historia could sit down, and angled her torso so that she could easily access the stab wound. Historia sat down, smile widening ever so slightly, and placed the first aid kit in her lap.

As Historia rifled through the kit, Ymir said, "it's the second slayer. Leonhart."

Historia paused. "Both of them were there?" she asked, struggling to keep the tenseness out of her voice.

"Nah," Ymir said. "I've just been watching both of them. The guys Leonhart lives with... I've met them before. I don't know if they'd remember me, but we've met before." She paused, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes; a sort of suspicion that edged in on condemnation. "They're vampires, Historia."

A jolt of shock ran through Historia. Nonetheless, she forced herself to open and disinfectant wipe and start cleaning Ymir's wound. There would be no need to worry about the wound getting infected; one of the benefits of being a vampire. However, she'd noticed that she had failed to clean the dried blood off the wound, and it wouldn't do to bandage her but leave that mess underneath. She cleaned in delicate swipes, careful not to inflict any further pain, although she knew that Ymir almost certainly wouldn't show it if she caused any. That required a certain degree of focus, and that focus made her take a moment to respond.

"You mean Annie Leonhart, right?" Historia eventually asked. "And the guys she lives with are Reiner Braun and Bertolt Hoover?" She shook her head, although it was more an expression of general surprise than genuine disbelief. The past five years had taught her better than to dismiss anything as outright impossible. Even so, she pointed out, "I've seen Reiner in the sunlight before."

"Yeah," Ymir said. "That one threw me for a loop as well. He's definitely a vampire though. I didn't think it was real, but... I think he got his hands on the Gem of Amara."

"The Gem of Amara?" Historia asked.

"Magical, legendary gem that grants a vampire invulnerability," Ymir explained, her tone caught somewhere between envy and distaste. "It lets a vampire walk in the sunlight, take a stake to the heart, prevents decapitation - as long as they're wearing it, they're unkillable."

"Oh," Historia murmured. "That... sounds like it could be problematic." Disastrous.

"Oh? I thought you were against hastily judging people?" Ymir teased.

"You're the one saying you're suspicious," Historia shot back.

The blood was more or less washed away now. It wasn't perfect, but it was as close as she could get without being more forceful. She leaned over to set the bloody wipes on the side table before opening packets of gauze and padding.

Meanwhile, Ymir's expression fell away into something more somber. "For good reason. Those guys are bad news. The people they work for..." She glanced up at the ceiling as she trailed off. Historia suspected that it was to keep her from getting a good look at her eyes. From what little she could see, they had a distant, almost lost quality to them, the sort that Ymir hated letting people see. Even her. She frowned, but focused on getting the wound dressing together instead of calling her out.

It was when she was about to press the dressing to her wound, fingers hovering centimeters away from her skin, that Ymir started talking again. "I don't know much about them, but last time I got involved with them, I died."

Historia sat there, frozen. She barely dared to breathe. But she had to. She had to breathe in order to ask, "they're the ones who...?"

"No," Ymir said. "A friend of theirs, and I took him down with me. They aren't even the reason it happened. But if they're here, it's bad news."

For a moment, all Historia could do was stare. Ymir was extremely guarded about her history. She'd never told Historia exactly how she was turned, only that it was violent. She'd certainly never told her that some sort of organization was involved, or that she'd apparently managed to take out the vampire who turned her in her final, dying moments as a human. It made her yearn to ask for more information. However, the very fact that it had taken almost three years for her to tell her this much told her that she wouldn't be getting any more. Not until Ymir was ready.

"You know the disappearances around your campus?" Ymir asked, breaking her out of her stupor.

"Of course," Historia said. As she spoke, she went ahead and pressed the dressing to Ymir's wound. She carefully ran her hands over the bandages to make sure that the adhesive edges would hold up. Once she was sure they would, her hands went still, but she didn't pull them away.

"I think they're the ones responsible for it."

"What?" Historia asked, horror leaking into her voice. "Shouldn't we do something then?" She let her hands drop to her lap, but Ymir caught one of them at the last minute and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Fuck no," Ymir said, her harsh voice a stark contrast to her gentle touch. "Ackerman's a slayer; let her figure it out. We don't need to put our asses on the line."

Historia frowned. "But you picking fights with the slayers won't."

"It's what they'd expect, and it'll let me keep an eye on the situation. Besides..." Ymir grinned. "I've only picked a fight with one slayer, and it wasn't a deathmatch or anything."

Historia's gaze drifted toward Ymir's wound. A wound obtained in something that was apparently not a deathmatch. "And do you plan on having one?" she asked.

Ymir's eyes softened. "Maybe once," she admitted. "But I wouldn't do that to you."

A painful smile tugged at Historia's lips. How broken and lonely was she if Ymir could so easily tell that she wouldn't be able to handle losing her? Still, she supposed she should be grateful. She knew how eager Ymir had been to fight a slayer, once upon a time. If her happiness was the incentive she needed to give up on that suicidal dream, then she would accept that.

With that, a thought drifted to the forefront of Historia's mind. Not one that she felt any sort of genuine hope for, if she was honest with herself, but one that felt worth voicing nonetheless. "Maybe Annie isn't with Bertolt and Reiner's group. Maybe they really are friends."

Ymir scoffed. "A slayer and a pair of vampires? Not likely."

Historia frowned. "Frieda thought humans and demons could co-exist," she murmured.

"And how long did Frieda last? A year and a half? Two?" Ymir's voice, while blunt, was not unkind. That didn't stop Historia from feeling a twist of grief in her chest.

"Nice slayers don't last long," Ymir continued. "And trust me, Ackerman and Leonhart aren't nice. They aren't going to be reaching out to any vampires any time soon." She leaned against the arm of the couch with a slight huff. "Besides, you need to remember that vampires aren't the sweetest creatures either. Even if they are friends on some level, there will have been an outside force that brought them together."

Historia stared at her girlfriend. She wanted to frown - the combination of the pain still rolling in her chest and what she had just said made her feel like she should be frowning. Even so, the slightest of smiles tugged at her lips. "You say that," she said, "and yet..."

"I'm not sweet," Ymir huffed. "And you aren't a slayer."

"Maybe," Historia acknowledged. "But-"

"But nothing," Ymir said. "I love you; the rest of the world could burn for all I care. Let the terrible trio ravage everyone else on campus if they want. I'm keeping an eye on this situation because I don't want us caught in a battleground between two slayers if it goes sour."

Historia stared at Ymir for a long moment. Aside from the bit about loving her, she couldn't tell how much of what she said was true and how much was a lie.

She supposed it didn't matter in the end. Historia was part of the world. Letting it burn would be counterintuitive to Ymir's priorities.

"Alright," Historia said, a small smile playing at her lips. "But for now nothing's burning, so... get to bed."

Ymir smirked. "Oh?"

"For rest," Historia deadpanned. "You aren't in the condition for anything else."

"You're no fun," Ymir sighed. "Join me anyway?"

Historia's smile widened and softened. "Of course."

#yumihisu #yumikuri #ymir #historia reiss #krista lenz #snk #attack on titan #snk fic #my fic #my writing #the call

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