#apparently my usual office building is even more of a nightmare. not surprised. if a small building was that bad. dread to think our one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sorryimanon · 3 years

Text

Pairings: Bakugou x fem!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!"

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

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

"This is freaking weird."

"Fucking."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N flinched from hearing the blondes name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Kirishima?"

"Yeah?"

"What is Bakugou like around you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bakugou is always putting up a front then.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit shit shit shit

The hand in front of him began shaking.

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

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

I just felt her fucking nipple!

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

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

"Hah!"

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

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

I practically assaulted her. I'm so fucking disgusting

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kacchan owns cardigans? He thought, clearly amused.

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

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

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

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

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

I hate lying to those big freaking green eyes.

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

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

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

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

This piqued her interest.

"What do you mean by, taboo?"

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

Her eyes popped out from her sockets.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another acute ding.

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

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

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

Ding Ding Ding

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"F-Fuck you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Make. Me. Cum

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

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

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

"Cum then baby. Cum for me only."

Baby

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

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

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

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

Silence. Then the realization hit.

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

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

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

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

He hummed in agreement.

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

Another grunt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No," his fingers were ironically cold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Caramel and soap

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Smack!

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

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

Smack! Smack!

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

More whimpers into the tear stained pillow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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white-collar-lawmen-and-conmen · 3 years

Text

Pulse Point

A/N: Requested by anonymous. Warning for canon-typical violence; minor character death, nightmares, and post-traumatic stress. Also: borrowed Dr. Sweets from the show Bones.

Summary: A near-death experience leaves you with recurrent nightmares. Neal offers some comfort.

Word Count: 5,154

The steady beeping of hospital equipment was driving you insane. It had been hours now of nothing except the monotonous noise of your own heartbeat. If it didn’t shut up soon, you would claw your ears off. With a stiff body and an ache that penetrated down to your bones, you forced your body upright and pinched open the pulse monitor on your right hand.

You let out a relieved sigh as the equipment went silent and dropped yourself back onto the well-padded pillows behind you. The pulse monitor clattered to the floor on its long white cord and you settled down for a nap. The ache in your bones made you feel heavy, like lead. There was nothing quite like a well-deserved nap.

In mere seconds after you had closed your eyes, the equipment started acting up again, this time blaring one long, constant shriek. The surprise made your heart skip a beat, but your eyelids were too heavy to look and see what had happened. Then your heart kept skipping, and your throat tightened. You couldn’t breathe. Your chest burned. It wasn’t a heartbeat; it was a flatline.

You were dying.

The leaden feeling in your body doubled. Your muscles didn’t respond to trying to move and you couldn’t force your lungs to take in a breath. Footsteps pounded around you, incoherent shouts going in one ear and out the other. You were desperate for your paralyzed eyes to open. Was this what you’d have for the rest of your life? Nothing but darkness and unintelligible, mind-numbing noise, punctuated by electrical humming and the pain of a vice clamping itself again to your finger?

The flatline paused for a second. Your ears rang and you thought, for a moment, that you were safe, your heart was beating again. Instead, your stomach twisted and you realized you were losing feeling in your toes. No blood. No life. When the screech of your flatline came back again, it was louder, more piercing. The shrillness reminded you of screaming.

As soon as you remembered it, it was there – the same screaming as before, somewhere in your room, echoing from every corner. In the next pause of the flatline, it turned into a hoarse shriek and a plea. “No! Please!”

You couldn’t hear anything underneath it, no more overlapping voices, and your panic increased. Where were the doctors? Did they think you were gone? Help me!

Your eyes opened with a sudden snap, the droning of your alarm clock replacing the flatlining of the monitor.

As you stared at your ceiling, you panted for breath. Rationally, you knew, you had probably never stopped breathing, but in the panic of your nightmare, it felt like you’d been smothered. Terror powered your desperate gasps and convinced you that your feet and hands were numb, even as you could feel that one foot was poking out from the end of your blanket. After a long moment, you dared to move your arm, ready to scream if you weren’t dreaming after all and still couldn’t move. You turned your alarm off easily.

Soft rain pattered against the glass windows, creating shiny-looking streaks as droplets collected and streamed down the side of the building. It was much more soothing than the silence that usually reigned in Dr. Sweets’ office when he was waiting for you to talk. Maybe he should invest in one of those noise machines with rain as an option. You thought about making the suggestion, but knowing him, he would probably call you out on the procrastination, or deflection, or whatever else he wanted to call it.

You broke the silence. “I’m certain I can wait you out for the next…” You checked the clock. “Twenty-seven minutes.”

Dr. Sweets raised his eyebrows, still leaning his head on a closed fist, propped on the arm of his chair. “I’m equally certain I can recommend you remain on desk duty for the next…” He pretended to check his watch. “Twenty-seven weeks.”

You scowled.

Psychological clearance was a bureau mandate after something traumatic occurred during the course of the job. You’d been lucky enough not to need it up to this point, but after… that, you hadn’t been given a choice. Dr. Sweets was a highly qualified psychotherapist, and you were sure that he did amazing things to help a lot of people, but so far you felt neither amazed nor helped.

“Agent L/N, you went through something incredibly harrowing that you were very close to not walking away from.” The psychologist finally took his head off his fist and put his arm down in his lap. At least he’d taken the bait and you weren’t the one starting the discussion. “You were a half-inch or couple minutes from bleeding out.” He pinched his fingers to demonstrate as if you didn’t have a scar on your body that distance from your femoral artery. You’d never be able to forget what half an inch looked like.

“But I did walk away, and the person who did that to me is in prison for the rest of his life.” You crossed your legs, trying to look more comfortable than you felt. You weren’t sure how effective you were going to be at convincing a therapist that you didn’t need therapy, but it was worth the try.

He looked utterly unconvinced. Actually, the jerk looked like he knew exactly what you were trying for and thought it was cute that you thought you could trick him. “Justice, or even retribution, which it feels like you’re leaning towards, doesn’t erase a wrongdoing or its associated harm.”

“I didn’t erase it, I healed from it. I took medical leave, now I’m back.”

“Physically, you healed. It takes a lot longer to heal mentally from those kinds of wounds.”

“Does it?” You challenged.

“I think your nightmares speak for themselves,” Dr. Sweets said pointedly.

You glared at him, at a loss for a quick comeback. You knew you didn’t look like a million bucks, but you hadn’t thought it was that obvious you were losing sleep. If he knew, then the coworkers who spent a lot of time with you must know, too. Especially Neal – nothing got past him. Oh, that was embarrassing.

The nightmares had been recurring for weeks now. They had started once you had a return date to the office, but after actually resuming your work, they had increased in frequency and intensity. They weren’t identical, but they did all share some similarities: some fatal injury had you dying, alone, in the dark, like you almost had in real life. You never got to the point of actually dying in your dreams, you didn’t think, but you were just fine with that. They were bad enough as they were. Yes, they were a sign of trauma and anxiety. But if your mind didn’t heal itself from weeks safe at home, then you knew returning to normal as fast as possible was probably your best bet at getting over what had happened.

“I’m not your enemy here,” the therapist said to you more gently. You couldn’t say he was heartless, even if you didn’t enjoy the half-hour sessions where he tried to talk about your feelings whether you wanted to or not. “My goal is the same as yours. I want you back at work, safely, able to sleep through a night so you don’t jeopardize yourself or the people around you.”

You let out a deep sigh. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me about the affect this has had on you.” Dr. Sweets encouraged, not for the first time. “You’ve accepted what happened. I can see that. But the next step is processing what it means for you, as an agent, as a person… maybe both.”

You felt helpless. What was that supposed to mean? You couldn’t very well tell him you were terrified your job was going to actually get you killed or cost more lives on your watch. When your employer paid your therapist’s bills, you couldn’t fully trust doctor-patient confidentiality. Maybe it was just paranoia, but you couldn’t bring yourself to risk it.

“I can’t sleep,” you admitted. Your tone sounded mournful. In a way, you were mourning for a time when you could sleep through the night and enjoy your days at work. It wasn’t like white-collar crime was your passion, but you did like puzzles, and you did like being around the people you worked with, especially a certain blue-eyed felon. “I keep having nightmares that I’m… injured, and I’m alone.”

“Your wire was jammed and your team didn’t hear you signal for backup.” Dr. Sweets talked slowly, patient and pragmatic as he validated your nightly anxieties. “You expected help, but they didn’t know to come.”

“They did come,” you said with a shrug. “It just… almost wasn’t in time. I know it wasn’t their fault.”

Your words about time felt glued into your ears. Yours had come really close to running out. And for what? Insurance fraud? No amount of money justified murder, and you likewise couldn’t put a price tag on a life. So why were you so eager to leap back into the same job that almost cost you yours?

It was something you had been mulling over since it happened. Your job was dangerous. You had always known that. You’d been shot at, been near explosives… your partner had been abducted by a murderer not that long ago, and your best friend had had guns in his face so often that, honestly, you’d lost count a while ago. Somehow it just hadn’t clicked, you supposed, that you could legitimately die. You were protected by the bureau and your body armor, until that wasn’t enough. Other agents had learned that lesson in a much harder way; being confronted with that was hard to simply get over.

Apparently, your use of the word “fault” led Dr. Sweets to talk to you about guilt and anger around the incident. You didn’t blame your partner or feel angry, except at the man who shot you, but you let him continue around your noncommittal, half-assed answers. You knew he at least suspected you were putting him on again, but you also knew you hadn’t given him much to work with. Then again, he didn’t call you on your bullshit replies, either, so you weren’t quite sure what he thought.

While Dr. Sweets had yet to approve you for field duty, there was still plenty to do at your desk. You pretended not to notice the itch in your legs to go somewhere while you kept yourself busy, preparing documents, performing research, helping delegate and manage case files, and topping off your team’s coffee whenever they got low. You had become even more of a desk jockey than Neal; at least he got to go out with Peter when given the green light. You missed outings with your partner, or really with any other agent.

Comparing yourself to a caged tiger was likely on the dramatic side, so you put it out of your mind and refused to feel sorry for yourself. You understood the protocols and the routines and they were for your benefit as much as the bureau’s. Besides, your team wasn’t treating you like you were fragile or demoted. They leaned on you to help just as much as they ever did, the assignment of duties just went a little differently.

You doodled a cat on your notepad during a meeting. Everyone had great ideas and you tossed in some ways you could contribute when you’d been quiet for a while. Peter’s proposed field op was going to go smoothly. Odds were high that any hiccups could be taken care of by Diana’s swift running of interference. Neal was raring to go and Jones was a little too excited to play the part of an intimidating brute, in your opinion, and Peter was appropriately apprehensive (someone ought to be, after what had happened to you).

“Let’s sleep on it,” Peter decided after looking out the window and seeing how low the sun had sunk. “If we’re all still in agreement in the morning, we’ll set the ball in motion.”

Jones graciously commented, “Good idea. We can all think on it.” He was probably the most cautious of all of you.

“Y/N?” Neal asked. You immediately looked up from your (admittedly lopsided) cat drawing. The forger was still in his chair, even while the others were pulling on their coats and blazers. “You’ve been quiet. Do you have any concerns?”

You shook your head, but not too quickly that it raised suspicion. You could get away with doodling – Peter often turned a blind eye to it; after several years, he’d developed a soft spot for you – but only if you were still paying attention and participating, so you didn’t want to give him a reason to suspect you weren’t.

Peter, Diana, and Jones all said their goodbyes. The two younger agents left the room, but Peter lingered at the doorway.

“Neal, do you want a ride?” He offered.

Neal looked from you to Peter, and then shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ll find my way. You don’t want to be late for roast,” he added when Peter looked unconvinced. After glancing at you, your partner decided that he really didn’t want to be late for roast and left without another look over his shoulder.

Now that you were alone, Neal softened his expression. “Seriously, Y/N, what’s going on?”

“I told you, I’m not worried. We’ve thought of just about everything we can predict.” You said with a straight face, pretending not to know that Neal wasn’t just talking about this specific case anymore.

He wasn’t having it. “Don’t lie to a conman, Y/N,” he chided you with a small, fond smile. “Come on. It’s not just today, you’ve been quiet ever since you came back. It’s not like you.” You raised an eyebrow and pursed your lips, uninterested in talking. Neal reached partway across the table for you but stopped there. It was an invitation but not a command. “I’m worried about you.”

The thing about your history with Neal was that it was a close one. You went from strangers when Peter got him out of Sing Sing to best friends within the span of two years. You trusted him more than you trusted just about anyone, and there hadn’t been a time when one of you needed the other and was turned away. He didn’t come to you when he was upset – seeking out reassurance and comfort was not Neal’s strength, because it involved professing vulnerability – but he never turned you away when you came to offer it, either. Now it seemed to be his turn to do the offering, as he had realized over the last few weeks that you weren’t going to ask.

You reached for his hand and silently sighed in relief at how solid and warm it was to the touch, so unlike the few dreams where you screamed and cried for someone to help and found yourself grasping at tricks that weren’t there. Neal turned his hand to hold yours and gave it a squeeze.

“It’s been so hard, Neal,” you told him reluctantly. “I have no idea how you do it. How you just walk away from all the close calls.”

Neal frowned a little. “I don’t just walk away,” he objected. “I have bad nights. I have bad days. Sometimes I have a whole bad week, or a few bad months.” You knew the latter was a reference to losing Kate, and you sympathetically gripped his hand tighter. “But, you know… there’s always something I can find to focus on instead, and after a while, the things go in the past. I let go.”

That advice was entirely unhelpful. “I’ve been trying to let go,” you said sourly. It wasn’t directed at him, exactly, but moreso at your brain, which was failing in its task of moving past what happened. “It’s not working. I can’t sleep. Sometimes I don’t think I can breathe.”

“It’s not easy,” Neal agreed, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. It was an intimately affectionate gesture that comforted and eased the nerves beginning to bubble in your stomach. “Company helps. The reminder that I have backup, even when it doesn’t come right away. I’ve got Peter, Moz. You.” He met your eyes with a small smile and raised your hand to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles.

“Company?” You echoed uncertainly. If you were unconscious, how was company going to make a difference to what you dreamed about? Then you remembered what you had said to Dr. Sweets about your nightmares always ending with being alone. If you knew, on some level, that you weren’t alone, maybe you would feel safer. “Like, overnight?”

His expression didn’t change to give away whether you were right or wrong. Instead, he just asked, evenly, “Is that what you need?” The way he looked at you then, without judgment in his eyes, but with determination in the set of his jaw, you just knew that whatever you said you needed, Neal would move a mountain to give it to you.

“I’m not sure, but… maybe?” You hesitantly guessed. If it worked, it would be worth the awkwardness. Even just one night of solid sleep would do wonders for how you felt, and it wasn’t like it would be the first time you had stayed with Neal overnight. Long marathons on slow weekends, and the less pleasant nights after Kate’s death, meant he kept an extra toothbrush and a set of your pajamas in his penthouse.

“Okay,” he said right away with nothing but quiet matter-of-factness. It was so comforting to be proven right that you could rely on him to help you with what you needed. His tone just said, you need this, so we’re doing it, full-stop. You just hoped you were right, both so you could finally go eight hours without fearing for your life and so you weren’t inconveniencing him for no reason. “Let’s get dinner on the way. We don’t have to talk about it,” he quickly said, seeing your face. “Whatever you need.”

Everyone should have a friend like Neal, but everyone should find their own, because this one was all yours. If it weren’t for the table in the way, you would’ve launched yourself at him in a tight hug. As it was, you settled for a squeeze of his hand and a grin as wide as you could muster. “Dinner sounds great.”

The stickiness of your pants along your thigh made your hands shake, unable to bring yourself to look at your palms. You knew what you would see all over them. The fire lancing up your thigh told you what you already knew. So did the weakness in your body and the fog in your mind. It was done. The hourglass on the desk was trickling through the last of its sand. Moretti was nowhere to be seen. You couldn’t even die in the presence of a murderer.

There was screaming coming from another room. It was the desperate wail of another agent begging for their life. “No! Please!”

“No,” you mumbled, using all of your energy to turn your head to the doorway. He couldn’t… not now that you were down… you couldn’t even raise your voice to cry for help. You were completely helpless. You couldn’t save him.

Your chest burned with the effort of your heart, ironically helping you to bleed out faster. Your breaths came labored, and then they couldn’t come at all as your vision faded. The dark carpet blurred from a mass of pilled fibers into a solid navy sea. The pain in your leg was excruciating, it was all you could feel; the idea of feeling peace ever again slipping away.

Screaming. Banging. Footsteps. More screaming. Pounding. Shouting. It was all indistinguishable, a mess of men’s voices and loud gunshots. Then, you heard it. Just your name, barely audible above the rest, in a voice that made you strain to see past the blackness.

“Y/N!”

You’d give the rest of your precious seconds away just to see him one last time, just to know he was beside you and you weren’t alone.

“Y/N!”

Footsteps came closer and the pressure on your chest intensified. The blood loss made you dizzy and your body shook.

“Y/N!”

You jolted awake, eyes snapping open in time to see Neal leaning out of the way just in time to avoid your hand flying at his face. You processed slowly that his hands were on your shoulders – had he shaken you? – and it was still dark. You could barely see his face, but his figure was lit from behind by the lamp next to his bed. You could tell from his messy hair that he had been sleeping not long ago, and you felt awful for waking him up.

After cursing, you sat up and gripped the warm blanket on your lap tightly. “I’m sorry,” you said remorsefully, feeling like a fool. Not only hadn’t you been able to sleep through the night, but now you’d ruined his rest, too. You cussed again. “I really hoped being close… just not being at my apartment, alone…”

It had felt like a safe bet off to a good start. You had gotten dinner together near Gramercy Park, then watched a lighthearted movie before turning in for bed. Neal offered to let you take his mattress, but you didn’t want to put him out and you had slept over enough that he didn’t feel like a bad host for letting you insist on the sofa. You’d been out by ten, but now you could guess it had been less than four hours. Your heart was still racing, your leg still tense with an imagined pain.

“It’s okay,” Neal said, sounding unsettled. He kept his hands on your shoulders like he was keeping you grounded on the earth. “Don’t worry about it. It’s okay.”

Neal’s eyes must have already adjusted to the low light, because his aim was spot-on when he lifted a hand from your shoulder to cup your neck instead. His profile ducked and you felt his lips land on your forehead, checking your temperature, signalling forgiveness, and administering reassurance all at once. He rubbed his thumb across your jaw as he stood up straight, releasing you, and walked away around the couch.

You put your legs down in front of you and rubbed your face, exhausted mentally and physically. Helplessness made you want to cry. Time wasn’t healing. Sleeping pills just made it harder to wake up, letting the nightmares ravage your psyche for longer. Not even the proximity of someone you trusted and adored was enough to let go of the past.

The light in the kitchen came on, bright enough to illuminate the studio but far enough away not to be blinding. Neal came back to the couch holding a bottle of water and offered it to you before sitting down. He looked so adorable, still sleepy and with a bit of pink in the side of his face from sleeping with his arm under his pillow. You scolded yourself for even thinking about how cute he was when you were the one who had woken him up.

You sipped at the water. It was so nice and smooth on your throat. You felt fine, now that you were awake, but the vividness of your nightmares always left you feeling parched and you always expected swallowing to hurt as if you had strep. Neal leaned into the back of the couch and put his arm up along the cushions. You capped the water, bent your knees to pull your feet back up onto the furniture, and let yourself lean into his side. Neal dropped his arm softly on your shoulders, holding you in a tender sideways hug.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized again after a couple of minutes. You felt much better, much faster than you usually did, thanks to him, and if you were being fully honest, you were not ready for him to get up and go back to bed, but it wasn’t fair to ask him to stay up cuddling you at god-knows-what-time just because you were a wreck.

“I told you, it’s okay,” Neal said, his voice firm. If you apologized again, you figured he would start scolding you for it, so you let it go.

“I just – I should’ve expected this,” you said with frustration, feeling like you were confessing to knowingly bothering him. “I haven’t been able to sleep well in ages. I keep having these nightmares, I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Neal was quiet for a few seconds, making sure you had said all you were inclined to. Then, knowingly, he asked, “This is about the Moretti case, isn’t it?”

“I can’t let it go,” you said with a whimper. “It won’t leave me alone. Every night, it’s a little bit different, but at its core it’s always the same.”

Neal’s voice cutting through the fog of your nightmare had been a saving grace, giving you peace even in your unconscious, but now that you were awake, you realized with clarity that his voice saying your name wasn’t the only voice you could make out. In fact, you always heard the same thing, every night, no matter what else changed.

“What’s the same, Y/N?” Neal asked you, trying to help. He stroked your upper arm with his open hand. You were already shaking your head. Neal could comfort you all he liked, but he couldn’t bring back the dead. In grief and shame, you turned your head and bent your neck to bury your face in his shoulder. Neal tilted his head so his cheek was resting gently on your hair. “Tell me, darling,” he coaxed in a whisper.

You felt like someone’s hands were wrapped around your throat, strangling your reply. “Agent Flynn,” you answered dryly, barely more than mouthing his name. “In every nightmare, I hear… I hear his last words. Begging Moretti not to take the shot.”

Neal was quiet for a long time, but never pushed you away. He held you closer when you started to shake, crying against him as quietly as you could manage. The artist rubbed your arm and periodically kissed your head, but he knew that there was nothing he could say to erase the horror of what you had heard or take away the guilt that you had survived because Moretti was distracted by taking out the other agent.

Moretti was part of a family gang, often in conflict with the Barellis, who, interestingly, paid a little deference to the white-collar division ever since you and Peter had recovered a stolen Book of Hours. The Morettis had no such connection or gratitude, so their response to the FBI sticking their nose into an embezzling scam was violent and bloody. Moretti shot you in the leg and intended to finish you off, but one of his own men had reported you came with someone. He left you to bleed out, and only a few rooms over, you had heard Flynn’s pleas – and the subsequent gunshot. Your team, wising up to the dead signal, arrived for a takedown before Moretti could make his way back to you, but it was too late for your teammate.

Neal shifted after what felt like forever, only to pull you closer to his chest and wrap both arms around you. You trembled in his embrace, but that just made him hold you closer, like you were delicate and breakable. When he next talked, his low voice was quivering, just like your body.

“I thought we lost you,” he said, cupping the back of your head in a gentle hand. He massaged his fingers into your scalp, even as he kept you cuddled in his lap. “I thought I lost you, Y/N. Two gunshots. I thought…” He struggled to find his words and you hiccuped, trying to stop crying. “I was the one who found you, and I was so scared I was too late.”

You sniffled and uncrossed your arms to melt against his chest and hug him tightly around his waist instead. “I didn’t know you…”

“We found him first, but you weren’t there and I needed to find you.” Neal now sounded equal parts frightened and furious. “If he had taken you away, I would’ve…” He shook his head and pressed his forehead to yours, as desperate to be close to you as you felt to be close to him. “I would’ve shattered. I can’t lose you, Y/N. I just can’t lose you, too.”

“I’m so glad I didn’t die,” you blurted, almost in a sob. You felt so safe with him, but now you knew for a fact that your own safety wasn’t what had been tormenting you. It was a nearly debilitating case of survivor’s guilt. “I just wish I hadn’t been the only one who survived.”

“No one wants that,” Neal promised you, untangling his hand from your hair and stroking it down instead. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could fix this and take it away, but all I can do is be here and hold you and tell you it’s going to be alright. It wasn’t your fault.”

You sniffed. Neal’s words were more of a comfort than you had thought they would be. They changed nothing about the situation, but… you weren’t alone. You hadn’t been alone since you met him. You just agonized that Flynn had been. “Neal, I can’t lose you, either. I love you, you’re… you’re who I’m going to heal for.” You had to find a way.

Neal seized your lips with his in a searing kiss. It wasn’t as sexy or patient as you may have imagined, but you gripped his shirt and gave as good as you got, and wow, the man gave verygood. It was a desperate kiss, needing to bring you together and reaffirm your life. To you, it was the seal of a promise that you wouldn’t let the past crush your spirit. When you could sleep through the night and had a handle on your post-traumatic stress… if he would just be patient, you would be his the way you wanted him to be yours.

He released you to breathe, eyes opening wide as if he only just realized what he had done. Before he could pull away, you pressed your forehead to his again, urging him to stay close. Your breaths mingled between you and you were sure you could feel his heart beating through his chest.

“I love you, too,” he said once he had caught his breath.

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sdv-player-9 · 3 years

Text

Sebastian

I was going to make a post about how sad it was that everyone wants to leave Pelican Town in Stardew Valley, but then I got caught up in reading Sebastian’s dialogue on his wiki page and I just-

You know what makes me really sad? Even more than everyone wanting to leave? Sebastian.

- “If I just disappeared would it really matter?”

- “What’s the point of going outside? I’ve already seen it all.”

- “Why does everyone like Maru so much? Sure, she's smart and friendly, but don't they realize it's all just an attention-grabbing scam? Sorry...”

- “I was this close to moping in bed the entire day. Kinda wish I had, now.”

- “Hey... It's hard to think of new things to talk about, sometimes. Even after you know someone. ...Sorry.”

I think he’s depressed. Like, how do you say those quotes and mean them and not have something hurting you inside?

Also these:

- “I was thinking... people are like skipping stones. Eventually we’re going to sink.”

- “I usually stay inside, but I do go to the beach now and then. Pretty much only when it's raining, though. For some reason, staring off into the bleak horizon makes me feel... I dunno. Like it's worthwhile to keep pushing on, I guess.”

- “Nothing surprises me anymore... nothing makes me laugh. Yeah, I know... I'm being a little dramatic.”

I’m starting a petition to add a new character who’s a therapist and has a room either in the clinic or in a new building. We could do with one of those.

But then I read further into the dialogue, because it’s mentioned quite a lot that Sebastian wants to move to a big city and work there and I was wondering if that was ever addressed, or if he just kind of lives with this guilt inside him that he hasn’t done what he wanted to with his life. And I found this (dialogue is from when he and player are married):

- “The older I get, the less I'm drawn to the city. It had a certain mystique to it, once. But it turns out that was just a romantic fantasy. The city's so busy, so full of people... I don't belong there. I'm a loner.”

And it makes me kinda sad that he does abandon his dream, but then (dialogue is from when he and player are married):

- “I did some work on the laptop today. I was actually brainstorming some ideas for a game I want to make. With your farming income, I can afford to do what I want with my life. It's pretty amazing. Thank you.”

And if you read his dialogue from after the player marries him (if you do) it’s just- it’s so sweet??? And he seems so happy??? And it just???

- “Living here with you is teaching me to come out of my shell a little bit. I think it's good for me.”

- “I couldn't sleep last night so I went for a night ride on the motorcycle. I need to stay independent, even though we're married. That's just how I am. I still love you, though.

- “Hey...want some coffee? I needed some...woke up early from a nightmare and I just couldn't fall back asleep.”

- “I'll just watch you from here. I enjoy watching you.”

- “This is so different from my old life, but I'm really starting to like it. I feel like I really belong here.”

- “I often felt unappreciated at home...but here I feel like I really belong. Thanks for making me feel welcome, [Player].”

- “Hey. I just hung out around the house, today. Nothing interesting... The view from our house is perfect. You can see the sun setting over Pelican Town from the front porch.”

- “I may be a reclusive guy, but I'm always happy when you're around.”

- “Hi, [Player]. Good to see you. It's comforting when you're around.”

- “Hey. I couldn't sleep last night so I took a walk to the caves. I found this ...want it? I just have trouble sleeping sometimes, it has nothing to do with you. I love you.”

And there are just so many more and it’s beautiful. He’s my favourite character. Go read all of his dialogue, even if you aren’t gonna marry him in the game.

I don’t know where I was going with this. Sebastian makes me sad.

-10 minute timeskip-

I went to try and find an image with one of his quotes to put at the end of this post and instead came across a bunch of Reddit posts about how awful he is and honestly they have a fair point ngl

- When married to the player, he keeps his frogs inside the house even if the player asks him not to

- Doesn’t consider Abigail one of his friends, because he has a crush on her

- Literally makes an effort not to get along with Demetrius and Maru, even though he’s had at least 10 and possibly 20 years to come to terms with this

- Apparently when you’re married he also just kinda vanishes on a Friday and also complains about mess a lot

However I then read a ton more people with good fair points that go against this so

- Keeps his frogs in his office. That’s fair enough. He can have his own stuff in his office

- Doesn’t consider Abigail a friend cause he isn’t sure if she’s into him, and it’s also okay to grow away from people you once wanted to be close to

- Demetrius does blatantly prefer Maru and rarely mentions Sebastian. It’s not Sebastians job only to fix his relationship with Demetrius. Demetrius could’ve done something, and so could Robin and Maru

They didn’t say anything about the final point but that’s cause it was from a different post

I also learned that everybody loves Elliot and there’s an even split between the people who like Shane and the people who don’t

In conclusion, I have no conclusion. All of the characters are flawed, which is good, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be problematic because some of them are.

Might switch who I’m trying to marry tho lmao

I did find this funny though:

#sdv #sdv farmer #sdv sebastian #sdv demetrius #stardew valley #stardew valley sebastian #stardew valley quotes #stardew valley my beloved #sebastian makes me sad

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ur-riddikulus · 3 years

Text

You’re Worth It (Bucky Barnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You are the resident therapist for the Avengers and Steve asks you for a favor. He wants you to have a therapy session with Bucky. Then you find out that Bucky wasn’t exactly aware of this plan.

Warnings: some cursing, Bucky’s angsty past, a couple small sexual innuendo. Also like a ton of angst but I promise that it does get better lol.

A/N: This is my first fanfic on here. I posted some Harry Potter ones before this, but I reread them and thought I could do better. So, here we are! Thank you for reading and if you want this to turn into more parts, I can totally do that. <3

You had been in your office preparing for your next patient when Steve walked in.

“Hey, Dr. Y/L/N, can I ask you for a favor?” He asked, putting his hands in a praying motion.

“Yeah, absolutely! I do have a patient soon, though.” You replied. You were glad to help, Steve is a great patient and has been improving impressively. So well, in fact, you didn’t know if he would even need to see you much longer.

“Do you know Bucky Barnes? He’s an old pal of mine. He has been against going to therapy for a long time, but you’ve helped me so much and Bucky needs some help too I think. Plus, he saw you around the tower and thought you were cute.” Steve says.

You blushed at that last part, silently wishing you didn’t. You had a rule against dating any patient or anyone in the tower, since it would just be awkward when you inevitably break up. Every relationship you’ve ever been in hasn’t lasted long, considering you’ve never been able to find someone you truly liked.

“Yeah, of course I know Bucky. You don’t shut up about him during your therapy sessions and I’ve seen him sulking around the tower myself. I would love to help him, but like I said, I have another patient soon. I will only have therapy with him if it’s his choice though. And I think he’s absolutely gorgeous but I have a rule against dating anyone who lives or works in the Tower.” You explained.

You looked at the time, Tony Stark, your next patient, would be here any minute. You were the sole therapist for Avengers Tower. There maybe should have been another one, but Tony had one session with you and said that you were the best he’s ever had and no one would ever dare be a therapist and step into his tower again. He even gave you the title of ‘Chief of Mental Health’ despite being literally the only person in that department.

Steve must have noticed you checking your watch, because he said ,”Oh, and I bribed Tony to change his appointment and give it to Bucky, so you kind of have no choice.”

You looked up, “What? Who knew that Mr. Captain America himself was a cunning little bitch.” You joked, shaking your head. You and Steve, hell, you and everyone in the tower had that kind of relationship. And, he knew you swore like a sailor, so he even ignored it sometimes.

At that moment, Bucky walked in. He looked so handsome with his shoulder-length hair and baby blue eyes. He even looked a little nervous. Well, that’s not surprising, you thought. Everyone, even you, was a tad nervous on the first session.

Steve put up one finger and said, “Let me talk to Buck alone for one moment.” You nodded and he walked Bucky out to the hallway and shut your door. You heard whispers being exchanged and was a little confused but whatever, you thought. You were sure he’s just giving Bucky encouragement.

You went over and sat down on your grey seat and picked up your chamomile tea. That was probably your favorite part of being a therapist, getting to sit down in comfy chairs all day with your tea. Besides helping people of course.

The door opened once again, with Bucky and Steve reappearing. “Thanks for doing this again, Dr. Y/L/N! Bucky will love you.” Steve said, patting Bucky on the back. You smiled and he exited, leaving only a nervous-looking Bucky standing there.

“Why don’t you come over and sit on the comfortable couch across from me, Bucky?” You motion, pointing over to the couch across from your current chair. He nods and goes to the couch. Well, at least he looks a bit more comfortable, you think to yourself.

“So, what do you want to talk about? Anything is on the table.” You say. You’ve found that not going straight to the tough topics help patients build their trust with you more.

“Well, doll, how about you tell me about yourself first.” He says, getting a bit more confident now. Doll? That’s an odd name to call your therapist. But whatever, you’re sure they used it a lot in the old days. Letting it slide, you try to answer his question.

“Well, I was born and raised here in New York City. I got my PhD. in psychology from NYU and I have an apartment in Brooklyn. I got this job after only one session with Tony Stark and now I am the therapist for the Avengers.” Sure, it was a lot of work, but you absolutely loved your job. Helping the heroes who risk their life to save yours and everyone else’s was the least you could do, you thought.

Bucky nodded and said, “I’m from Brooklyn. Looks much different now than it did when I lived there though. A PhD.? Damn doll, you must be super smart.”

You smiled at his compliment. “Thank you. It wasn’t easy, but it was definitely worth all the late nights studying.”

“So, anything else you want to know about me before we get started?” You asked, getting your notebook to prepare to write notes about Bucky and how to best help him.

“Get started? Damn, doll. I was thinking we could grab a coffee before we ‘get started.’ But it’s good with me, I guess the girls roll a little different in this time than the 40′s.” Bucky says, chuckling to himself.

You were in the middle of getting to the correct page in the notebook but paused when you heard what he said. What did he think you meant when you said ‘get started’? It sounded very different from your meaning. And getting coffee? It almost sounded like he thought this was a date? You shook your head at that thought. No way could he possibly be that confused. And Steve said he thought you were cute, but you seriously doubted that the Bucky Barnes would even consider going on a date with you. So no, it definitely couldn’t be that. But whatever he thought this was, there was obviously a miscommunication that you had to clear up.

“Uh, Bucky? I think you must be confused. Steve told me that he convinced you to have a therapy session with me this afternoon. What did you think this was?” You ask, a little scared of the answer.

At hearing this, Bucky seemed very confused. “What do you mean, Steve told me that we were meeting here before going out on our date?”

Now it’s your turn to be confused. What does he mean by ‘our date’?

“Uh, Steve never said to me that we were going on a date. He told me that he convinced you to have a therapy session with me...” You said, shaking your head in confusion. This made no sense, what was going on?

Apparently that was the conclusion Bucky just got to as well, because he looked up, a little embarrassed and said, “I’m so sorry. Steve told me that you wanted to go on a date with me and that we were going to meet in your office before going out. I never would have agreed to this if I knew what he was really doing. I’m just going to leave, I’m so sorry for wasting your time.” Bucky raced his hand through his long hair and stood up, walking to the door.

At first, you were a little stunned. The Steve you knew, the world knew, would never pull a trick on anyone, especially his best friend. You knew him enough through your sessions to know that he would only do this if he absolutely had to. Which means he must be desperate for his friend to get the mental help he needed. Also, Bucky was just so damn cute and you have had the biggest crush on him ever since you went to the Captain America exhibit in the local museum for a school trip. You always saw him in the pictures with Steve, his heart-stopping smile still doing wonders on you despite the worn black and white photo.

So, you jumped up right when his hand touched the door handle to leave and probably never see you again. “W-Wait!” You said, hating your stutter but just cringed and kept going when you saw him turn around curiously. “While you’re here you might as well just talk to me. If you hate it, you never have to see me again and can just ignore me in the halls. But, if this session does help you, maybe we can schedule a bit more and see where it goes. I really think I can help you, Bucky.” After you finish your awkward speech, you just smiled and waited for his definite and irreversible no. Well, at least you got the chance to help him, you thought.

He just sighed and shrugged saying, “Well, I’m already here I guess. But are you sure this could end at any time and that you even want to help me after my dumb friend tricked me into embarrassing myself?”

You smiled and that last part and smiled, just grateful for the opportunity to help someone so burdened and has done so much for the world.

Bucky walked back over the his chair and said, “So, Doc, how do we start this?”

You grabbed your notebook again and turned to the right page again. “This is your session, it can start with however you want. But it might help to start from the beginning. How did you feel when you got drafted into a World War when you were only 18?”

He looked deep in thought and said, “Wow, no one ever asked me that.” He sighed before adding, “Of course it was my duty to fight and all that, but I was angry at the world for forcing kids who just barely turned adults to fight their wars for them. I knew it was going to be an adventure, but honestly I was scared shitless, doll.”

You nod, your empathy for him skyrocketing even though you guys just started.

And that’s how your bi-weekly sessions with Bucky would usually go. You guys talked about a whole manner of things, like his past in the 1940′s, his brainwashing with HYDRA, Steve saving him, and his nightmares from everything included. You two were closer than you normally let yourself get to patients. You didn’t know if it was because of everything he had gone through, or maybe even that you finally got to talk and help the Avenger who needed you most, but you honestly didn’t care. Your sessions with him really seemed to help him and now he hasn’t had a nightmare in over 2 months. Bucky seemed a lot happier and waved and talked to you in the halls. Steve even said that he hasn’t seen Bucky like this since the 40′s. You thought that with all things considered, he had a ton of improvement. You two had only been meeting for about 6 months and his progress was truly great;

You tried to forget that in your first meeting he thought you were going on a date and even apparently called you pretty. You knew that nothing romantic should ever come out of your patient and therapist relationship since it was obviously wrong. Every therapist knew that under no circumstances should you date your patient. It would always hurt the patient’s mental health even more and that was the opposite of your job. You suppose it could technically happen if you stopped being his personal therapist but it wouldn’t be worth it. All of his hard work would have been for nothing.

But you couldn’t help but think what if? What if it ended up working out? What if he got another therapist and you could date him? What if he was the one? But no, you were getting ahead of yourself, you thought. Bucky was great and handsome and so, so perfect. He was honestly everything you wanted in a partner. And still, you couldn’t take the leap. If it didn’t work out and you were possibly the reason his mental health got worse you could never forgive yourself. So every appointment with him you just smiled and tried to ignore that pressing need, even though you were beating yourself up for either being a coward or for being so selfish that you wanted to take that chance.

One day you were in the middle of researching new ways to help a client’s recent mental health issue and trying to (and failing) ignore a certain issue when Bucky walked in with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a nervous look on his face. You stood up, very confused but nonetheless making yourself known.

“Uh, Y/N? Could I maybe talk to you for a minute?” He asked. You’ve never seen him dressed so well. Normally he just wore either workout clothes or sweatpants. You two even often joked together that he owned no normal clothes.

“Yeah of course. I’m sorry I didn’t know we had a session today.” You said, cursing yourself for making such a mistake. Usually you were pretty good with schedules, even though working with the entire compound was a bit much to remember.

“Oh, we don’t. I just wanted to ask you a question.” Bucky said, biting his lip. A nervous tick that you soon discovered in one of your early sessions together.

“Sure, ask away.” You replied. You were getting a little worried. Surely he didn’t want to end your appointments together, right? Did you do something wrong?

“First of all, these are for you.” He said nervously as he handed you the flowers. You smiled, surprised that he remembered you telling him your that your favorite was y/f/f while complaining that the local florist didn’t have them during one of your bi-weekly meetings. “Thank you, these are absolutely beautiful. I love them.” You smiled and walked over to a window ledge with a vase on it and put them in, admiring how they looked in the sunlight.

When you were finished admiring them you walked back over to Bucky. “Thank you again, they really are beautiful. I don’t even remember the last time someone was so nice and got flowers for me.” You said and hugged him. You knew he wasn’t that great with personal touch but surprised you when he hugged you back pretty quickly. For a moment you just focused on being in his arms but then soon thought of how inappropriate it would look to an outsider and reluctantly pulled away.

“So, what did you want to ask? Is everything okay?” You ask, quickly remembering that something could be wrong with him.

“Yeah, of course everything is fine. You truly are a great therapist, Y/N. You’ve got a gift.” Bucky said. You blushed at his words and hated that your color would give away your inappropriate feelings possibly. His words did calm you down though. But if it wasn’t about therapy, then what else could it be about?

Feeling your blush go down finally, you nodded and urged him to go on, now too curious to wait it felt like.

He sighed and nervously ran his hand through his hair. “You have to promise me that if this goes wrong, our relationship won’t be ruined. It’s too important for me to ruin by being an idiot.” You immediately promised. Normally you would be cautious about such a thing but you have never trusted anyone this quickly and this much with Bucky.

After he saw your quick agreement, he went on. “So, these past couple weeks, well since we’ve started meeting actually, I was interested in you. I was never going to act on it in a million years but you’ve helped me so much and I think we could really be great together. And Steve might have noticed me staring at you and telling me I should do something about it.” He chuckled. “So, want to go on a real date? I would go the whole 9 yards, nice restaurant and everything. But I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do and know that our relationship isn’t necessarily the easiest to become romantic. I just think you're worth it, doll. You're worth all of it.” He stopped and bit his lip again, waiting for your response.

Your heart soared when you heard his speech. No one had every made you feel this way. You were about to say yes, so close in fact, but then you remembered the real truth. You are his therapist, his doctor, his advocate. That was special and meant something to you. You knew he wanted this but it was your responsibility to make the hard choice, to do what you honestly hated to do but thought was right.

“No, Buck. I’m sorry but I can’t. I just think it could ruin all your hard work and that’s the last thing that I want to do. It just shouldn’t be risked.” You said. Telling him that felt like vomit was coming up and you felt even worse when you saw him look dejected and lose his smile so quickly because of you.

You moved your arm to touch his and try to support him the best you could within your boundaries but he saw you trying to do it and moved before you could touch him. And that really hurt.

You opened your mouth to try and say that you wanted to say yes, that it wasn’t him and just your job but he put up his hand to stop you and said,”No, I shouldn't have asked, I’m sorry.” before walking out.

After the door shut you just closed your mouth in surprise of how this could all go so wrong before falling on the ground and just sobbing. You were hyperventilating soon and snot was going everywhere but you just didn’t care. You were the therapist, the one who knew all the mental health tips and tricks but you were too broken to think logically and it felt good to just let yourself cry.

This stayed the same for two straight weeks. Bucky rescheduled every meeting and put himself into more missions, especially the more dangerous ones. You would cry yourself to sleep nearly every night and by the morning, your eyes were really puffy and swollen from the night before. Everyone in the tower knew something was going wrong and you could feel their stares of sympathy and worry. You felt terrible but what felt even worse was that you weren’t even speaking with Bucky anymore. And as bad as you felt, you couldn’t help but be even more worried for him. You were prepared to just wallow in your own self-pity and cry for the nth time when Steve knocked on the door and walked in when you were in your office, just drinking chamomile tea and looking at the flowers Bucky got you.

“Hey Doc, how’s it going?” He asked, sitting down and looking worried. You just looked up at him and decided to finally cut the shit and get right to what you were worried about. “Steve, how’s Bucky? And tell me the truth, I’ll find out eventually.” Steve sighed and said, “Honestly he’s not doing great. He looks like crap and is throws himself into missions. Bucky also keeps taking stupid risks that could leave him wounded or even worse. We’ve all spoken with him and he just ignores it. I think the only thing that would really fix him is talking with you. he’s never been like this before, I just don’t know what to do.”

You knew that he would probably tell you the last part, that he feels out of control. Control issues was what you most talked about with Steve during your sessions. Not that you could blame him, you would definitely have them too after everything he has gone through. But that could be discussed in your future sessions with him. Right now, you just wished everything was back to normal.

You nodded sadly, even more worried for him now. But Steve talking to you changed something. You needed to talk to Bucky. And right now. Your fear of rejection was high and you knew there was a fairly high chance that he was too hurt to trust you and that he would probably say no but you didn’t care. Even if he rejected you, you didn’t care. As long as he would be better and your relationship went back to normal, you could live with it. Even if it would take a long time to get better after this, he would be worth it.

So you just looked up, your mind set on what you had to do. “Where is he? I need to find him right now.”

Steve looked up surprised and said, “Uh, in his room I think. He just signed up for another hard mission and we asked him not to but he insisted. He’s probably getting ready since he will have to leave soon.”

After hearing this, you jumped up frantically while yelling “Thank you so much Steve!” as you ran out, not even caring to stop the door from slamming.

Now, even though you worked in a tower full of superheroes, you were only the therapist and still haven’t ran in a while. So you ran and ignored all the stares of the workers and Avengers. When you finally got there, you were out of breath and breathing hard. But still, you worked through your mini heart attack and knock on the door, still frantic.

You heard some rustling behind the door and a few mumbled curse words when he began saying loudly, “Steve, I’m fine. I’m going on that mission whether you think I should or no-” Bucky opened the door and once he saw you, a probably sweaty, red, and gross you, finished with a confused “-not?”

You put up one finger to signal for him to give you a moment to catch your breath. After that, you joked, “Guess I need to workout more.”

“No, I think you look great. Uh, n-not that my opinion matters or anything. If you think you need to work out then that’s what you should do.” He said, nervously stuttering but nodding at his final sentence like by catching it he saved himself from saying something wrong.

He cleared his throat before continuing. “So, how can I help you? I do have to leave on a mission soon though.”

It broke your heart how formally he was speaking, almost like you were complete strangers.

Maybe you should go, you thought. But no, you had to. Bucky was worth the embarrassment you could possibly face, whether you two were going to date or not. Forcing yourself to remember that, you steeled yourself and said, “I’m sorry Bucky, about everything I said. That date sounded amazing, it really did. I wanted to go and I still do. I was just worried about how inappropriate it would be for a therapist to date their patient. I didn’t want your mental health to backtrack and I honestly thought that I was doing the right thing. But I miss you, Buck. I miss you terribly. And you're worth all of the risks to me, you outweigh them all. So please don’t go on that mission, let someone else take the dumb risks. From what I’ve heard you have taken enough for a while. Please, just stay with me and we can talk?” You looked up at him pleadingly and saw him pull out his phone before shutting the door in your face.

That shut door hurt you, but you were prepared for it and sighed. It was too good to be true, you guessed. The fairytale ending, the white picket fence, the handsome husband. You turned around, prepared to walk away with the thought of going back to your apartment and drowning your sorrows in chamomile tea and tissues when you heard the door open behind you and felt a hand grab yours to turn you around.

And there was Bucky, smiling like an absolute idiot. And at first you thought that he was making fun of you, but even then you still thought he looked handsome with that smile. “Sam’s in. He’ll take the mission for me.” He said.

“What?” was all you could muster. You had no idea what he was talking about it sounded almost like... That’s when you heard Sam on speaker phone, “Yep, that’s right sweetheart. I’m gonna do the dumb mission. Kiss Bucky real good for me, sucks I can’t be there to do it myself.” Then you heard Sam make a bunch of kissy noises and that’s when Bucky said, “Enough of him.” And ended the call. Then he grabbed your hand once more and shut the door behind you. He backed you against his door with him so close to you that your chest was touching his.

You were still in shock of your luck when Bucky leaned in and kissed you. You were a little shocked but soon kissed him back, and hard. It was like you were underwater and he was the oxygen. The kiss soon turned rougher and you did not mind at all.

A couple hours later you were both laying on the bed, snuggling and watching a dumb movie that both of you weren’t even paying attention to. You were both just too wrapped up in each other’s presence. “Hey, I think you got some of that exercise you mentioned needing. Maybe we could even do some more if you want.” Bucky said, looking down at you and laughing.

You hit him lightly but couldn’t help from laughing hard as well. Only hours ago you thought that you wouldn’t get anything with Bucky. No happy ending, white picket fence, and with Bucky, the whole package. But no, you got much more than that. So much more.

#bucky x y/n #bucky #bucky barnes #x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #marvel #mcc fanfic #mcu #firstfic #love

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lalainajanes · 3 years

Text

For the square “water park” on my Klarosummerbingo card! Might be my worst title ever but it’s actually better than the original one so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Slip and Slide

Caroline speedwalks through the lobby, weaving around people who seem to think it’s the appropriate place for an early morning stroll. “Hold the elevator!” she calls, ignoring the few disgruntled looks she receives.

She hadn’t been that loud, and she’s nearly late for a critical meeting. It’s the first one with a new client, and she’d hate to make a bad first impression.

She’d had to head to the dry cleaners before work, had gotten caught in a traffic snarl in an area she wasn’t that familiar with, and it had taken her way too long to figure out the detour. She should have left her place earlier.

She gets to the security gates, juggling a garment bag, her briefcase, and a portfolio. Her ID seems to be just out of reach, and she jams her hand further into her purse. Albert, her favorite guard, murmurs, “Take a breath, Ms. Forbes.”

She blows one out, frustrated. Rolls her shoulders in an attempt to relax. “Sorry. I’m just…”

“Stressed? I can tell.”

Yikes. Caroline hopes that doesn’t mean her hair has exploded.

She smiles weakly, “Big day today.”

A brand new project, after the last one had been a disaster. Caroline’s comfortable with stress, thrives on high stakes, but she could totally use a win.

Her fingers touch the familiar edge of her badge, and she pulls it out triumphantly. She taps it on the sensor, walks through the revolving gate. “Good luck, Ms. Forbes,” Alfred murmurs as she passes.

It’s a little thing, but Caroline feels a little better knowing someone’s rooting for her.

She’s relieved to spot that one of the elevators is open, a man holding the door, his eyes on her. She doesn’t recognize him, but that doesn’t mean anything. The building has 55 floors, offices for more than two dozen companies within it. He’s dressed in a suit, like the vast majority of the men she sees in the building. His is nicer than most, charcoal grey, perfectly fitted, with a very subtle pinstripe that she only notices when she gets closer. Caroline hurries into the car gratefully. She leans forward, punches 32. “Thank you so much,” she says to him, turning so they’re shoulder to shoulder. “You’re a lifesaver.”

The man on her other side makes a noise, a tiny scoff. Caroline glances at him quizzically. He’s stoic, eyes forward, but she’s sure there’s a hint of amusement on his face.

An arm brushes against hers, drawing her attention. “Feel free to ignore him,” the man who’d held the elevator says. His voice is low, smooth and she’d be charmed by the accent if they’d met in a social situation.

Or any situation, if she’s honest.

“My brother would probably describe me as more of a troublemaker.”

Huh. She hadn’t have figured brothers. They’ve both got attractive and well-dressed going for them but little other familial resemblance. Caroline’s head swings back, “Are you a trouble maker?”

His amusement is plain. His full lips curl, and deep dimples appear in his cheeks.

Oh yeah. Definitely a trouble maker.

“I’m about twenty minutes early for my meeting today; how much of a trouble maker can I be?” His tone is playful, a touch too innocent to be believed.

Damn it. Caroline does not have time for an attractive man this morning. At least she hadn’t changed into the frumpier outfit in the garment bag. Hopefully, she’ll run into this guy again.

“I think I need more info. Could be a one-time thing. I’m almost late for my meeting, which is wildly out of character.”

“Not the trusting sort, are you?”

Caroline shrugs, raising her brows expectantly.

He laughs briefly, “Well, I did send an email ahead to inquire about the coffee preferences of the team I’m meeting. I’m stopping at one of the cafes to pick it up now. Would a troublemaker do that?”

“Hmm, maybe. Could be an underhanded tactic to get on a good side before the trouble starts.”

Dimples’ brother chimes in again, dry this time. “I believe your assistant sent that email. And that she learned the practice from my assistant.”

Dimples glowers, and Caroline must admit this is a delightful distraction from her anxiety. She glances up at the panel above the door and is disappointed to find they’re almost on her floor. “If you’re going to the café on 36, I recommend the oatmeal raisin cookies. Most people go chocolate chip. Trust me, that’s a mistake.”

The elevator pings, the doors sliding open. Caroline smiles, hitches her briefcase higher on her shoulder. “This is me. Thanks again.”

The receptionist spots Caroline, stands up, a sheaf of papers in her hands, and Caroline’s reminded about how much she has to do. She hurries out, her heels clicking across the shiny tiles of the lobby.

She still glances back at the elevator, can’t help smiling, pleased, when she finds her new friend from the elevator watching her as the doors close.

Even if she never sees him again, he’d made her morning a little brighter.

Now, though, it’s time to work.

* * * * *

Fifteen minutes later, Caroline’s pacing in her office. She’s pinned her hair back and changed into the purple pantsuit she’d picked up at the dry cleaners. It’s a great color but not the most flattering fit. The pants are fine, but the jacket’s boxy, and she’s wearing a plain pink blouse underneath, buttoned to her throat, a thick silver necklace threaded through the collar. There’s a pair of glasses perched on her nose, and she’d changed into sensible flats.

She’d learned her lesson last time, at the first meeting where she’d been the project lead. She’d been called ‘Honey’ and other more annoying pet names and asked to serve coffee and fetch snacks. She’d received skepticism when she’d introduced herself. By the end of that first meeting, Caroline had wanted to scream her credentials – a B.A. and a Master’s in Civil Engineering, a whole pile of certifications, several prestigious internships, and stellar work references, thank you very much – at most of the people in the room.

Ultimately, the project had been successful, but Caroline had experienced frequent bursts of frustration that bordered on rage. Her suggestions were met with questions that made it clear her intelligence was doubted, her corrections with condescension, even though she’d usually been the only one in the room with any significant scientific expertise.

Expertise that’s kind of crucial in designing a water park. It wouldn’t have been a good look, or a sound investment, if guests were to end up injured or dead after paying exorbitant ticket prices and expecting a fun day.

Her skin has thickened considerably, but Caroline hopes that’s less necessary this time. Her boss had assured her that this job would be easier, and Caroline’s choosing to believe her. It’s even potentially exciting – these clients own several international resorts, the park she’s pitching on will be built in Spain.

Being project leader, she’d traveled to oversee construction on the nightmare build, but Tennessee doesn’t carry quite the same appeal as the Spanish coast, at least from the photos Caroline’s seen.

At the very least, it can’t be a worse experience. She hopes.

She hears Katherine coming her way, takes a final deep breath before Kat breezes into her office. “What are you wearing?” Kat asks, sounding both mystified and vaguely disgusted. She pauses in front of Caroline, fingers pinching her lapel and tugging. “Is this polyester?”

“Maybe. I thrifted it.”

Katherine’s face twists in the sort of revulsion one would expect if Caroline confessed to grave robbing the ensemble.

“Ew, why?”

“Figured I needed a costume. To make sure that this time, no one in there thinks to call me ‘sweet cheeks.’”

She’d been paired with another designer last time, Matt Donovan, who was a nice enough guy but had been pretty useless in the having her back department. Caroline likely wouldn’t have cried into her Ben and Jerry’s quite so often had Katherine been her partner. Kat has the unique and impressive ability to make demands and issue orders and have people thank her for it.

Kat snorts, “Elijah Mikaelson would never. He’s aggressively polite. I haven’t spoken to him yet, but I doubt Niklaus would either. I assume he has the same hot accent.”

That’s a new name. Caroline doesn’t like surprises. “And who is Niklaus?”

“A brother. And a business partner. He wasn’t originally scheduled to be here but is unexpectedly in town. What do you think the British equivalent to sweet cheeks is?”

Caroline’s eyes go wide, a few puzzle pieces clicking together. British brothers, twenty minutes early for a meeting. What are the odds?

Crap. Had she been flirting with a client? In front of another client?

There’s a tap at the door, her boss’ assistant’s head poking in, “They’re ready for you in the conference room.”

Ugh. Maybe she’s cursed.

* * * * *

The presentation goes fantastically.

Katherine had been correct – the Mikaelsons don’t seem to labor under the misapprehension that a conventionally attractive blonde woman can’t grasp complex concepts. They’d shaken her hand when she’d arrived; Niklaus (or Klaus, as he apparently prefers) had looked a bit puzzled when they’d been introduced, Caroline had chalked that up to the outfit. He’d said it was nice to see her again. Explaining her mad dash to the elevator, and Klaus’ assistance, to the room had broken the ice nicely.

Kat kicks them off, and her design is gorgeous; Elijah and Klaus appear suitably impressed. When it’s Caroline’s turn, her nerves fall away by her second PowerPoint slide. She knows her stuff backward and forward, and she’s incredibly pleased with her innovation.

She also begins to feel less bad about the flirting once she sees that Kat throws Elijah a few looks that are borderline inappropriate for the office (that he seems pretty pleased with).

They ask questions, pour over the mock-ups and technical drawings Caroline and Katherine had prepared. Their ideas are actually good, which is a nice contrast for the last project. She’d done far too much lying and finessing to attempt to steer the previous park into a less terrible direction. The Mikaelsons have far fewer notes than Caroline had anticipated, and she promises to put together an update ASAP. They schedule another meeting.

She thinks Klaus’ handshake lingers when they say goodbye, but maybe she’s just riding high on adrenaline and imagining things.

She kind of hopes she isn’t. It’s probably too messy to date a client, but a girl can fantasize, can’t she?

Caroline helps herself to the cookie tray, pleased by the generous helping of oatmeal raisin she finds. Kat’s disappeared, but she knows their boss will want to debrief. Caroline collapses into one of the conference chairs, pulls out her phone to check her messages.

She replies to a few emails before she notices one that’s just arrived.

Hello Caroline,

I enjoyed your presentation today. I look forward to the next.

Warmly,

Klaus

She grins to herself, slumps lower in her chair. Clearly, she hadn’t imagined anything if Klaus is emailing her when he’s barely out of the building. She takes a risk and sends a slightly more casual reply than she’d usually attempt at this point.

If he reacts badly, she can up the formality later on. If he doesn’t, well… she’s only fostering a good working relationship. That’ll be essential if they land this contract.

And she’s like 90% sure it’s in the bag.

Hi Klaus,

Thank you!

The photos your team sent over of the location were gorgeous; both Kat and I were inspired. I think this is some of our best work to date. I’m excited to dive into the updates and meet again next week.

Best,

Caroline

P.S. Thanks for the cookies.

His reply comes minutes later.

Caroline,

I believe it. Your work is impressive, as I’m sure your new ideas will be. Have you ever been to Spain? The pictures hardly do it justice.

Warmly,

Klaus

P.S. You’re welcome. Which coffee order was yours?

Well, that’s the opposite of a bad reaction.

Caroline sets her phone aside, tells herself she has to be smart here. She’s reasonably sure she’s not doing anything that’s prohibited. The emails will speak for themselves, and they live on the company server. Neither she nor Klaus are offering anything untoward for the contract. If things go well, she may just have to fill out an HR disclosure form. She’ll double-check the firm’s code of conduct.

Just in case.

#klarosummerbingo #klaroline #klaroline fanfiction

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kaunis-sielu · 3 years

Text

Naja: 9

True to his word Bossman calls with an assignment on Monday.

Her name is Ophelia Sarkissian, she’s an extremely powerful CEO of a company called Red Skull International. They look like a good company from the outside, despite the creepy ass name, but if you look a little deeper they have ties to more than one terrorist organization, specifically Hydra.

You know that they’re responsible for a mass murder in South America less than a year ago and while you’re skeptical that killing Ophelia is going to stop RSI from continuing their criminal ways evidence shows she’s not innocent. What you can find is that she was responsible for more than one suspicious disappearance, a murder and at least two robberies.

This is a woman who has a lot of power and isn’t afraid to use it. She’s a dangerous, powerful, person who hides behind a pretty face. After reading all the information you’ve been given you start to work on a plan.

In the middle of your planning you get a text from Bucky, it’s a photo of him on a plan the seat next to him has a sleeping man in it.

-Gotta tell ya sweetheart, my neighbor sucks.-

-You’ve been spoiled I guess.- You text back with a smile on your face.

-I think you should be my permanent travel buddy-

You send back the eye rolling emoji and you get a laughing one back. You love these little moments that you can still have with him. It’ll be a bit harder when you’re out working but if he can do it with his job so can you.

You start following Ophelia that night, scoping out her home and work to see what kind of security she’s got. There’s nothing super concerning, she has decent security at both her house and office. Just systems but you’ll still have to look into what kind they are, you need to know if you can disable them or if they’re harder to get past than just cutting service.

She’s got a driver, a personal assistant, and a few people that work in her house. She doesn’t speak to any of the maids, chef or driver but she does talk to the personal assistant. Maybe you could pay off one of her maids and take their place? You’ve gotta have a plan here, you should be able to take a couple of days to just watch. She doesn’t seem especially observant of what’s going on around her unless it requires her direct attention. She seems like the kind of person who doesn’t take notice of anyone she deems below her, which, while disgusting is incredibly helpful for you.

The next morning you head out early, you don’t know what time she leaves so you get to a coffee shop outside Ophelia’s apartment building around 5:30. You hang out in the shop for an hour, pretending to read a book, then you move to outside her apartment building. You have a beanie low on your head and a fresh coffee in your hands, it’s almost 8:15 and she has to be leaving soon to be on time for work. You still don’t have a concrete plan, you tried hacking into her computer last night but the security was better than you’d been expecting.

“Alright, Ms. Sarkissian we’ll be right up.” You freeze, your eyes stay locked on the cup in your hand but every fiber of your being is focused on that voice. You want to sneak a glance at him but you can’t let him see you. You shift slightly so you’re not facing him anymore, so he can’t see your face. Ophelia has, apparently, upped her security game and your worst nightmare is already happening. You don’t want to be on the opposite side of him but in all honesty it’s probably best that it is you. You don’t kill innocent people and that usually includes bodyguards. Usually.

He’s all business, a blue suit on and a gun in a holster on his side. You’re not surprised that he doesn’t wear his gun on his hip but instead wears it up near his heart.

Of all the security companies in the world she had to pick his, you want to grab his arm, pull him away and tell him to go home. But you know it’s hopeless, he’s not going to listen to you. For all he knows you’re an office admin at a dentist office in Washington DC, why would you be in New York City and would he even listen to you? Your body is buzzing, having him so close, you feel his eyes on you but they seem to just slide past you. Bucky Barnes, standing ten feet away from you, finally gets buzzed into Ophelia’s apartment building.

She must’ve paid the big bucks to get Bucky here, and she must know that you’re coming. Well, not you specifically but someone.

Bucky and his partner disappear into the building and you slip across the street to wait. You’re going to need a few days to come up with a new plan now because Bucky knows your face. Bucky knows more than your face.

You throw away your coffee and make your way to your bike, pulling your hat off and your helmet on you wait. You’re hoping that when she leaves you can slip into her apartment and bug it better, currently you’ve just got one on the outside of her balcony that you’d managed to shoot there last night. You tune into the bug, she’s got the sliding glass door open so she must not be that concerned about being attacked from afar.

You listen while playing on your phone.

“Ms. Sarkissian, I know none of this is easy but we need to know if you have any enemies we should be looking into.” Bucky’s smooth voice comes through the bug.

“I have no idea. I just got this threat in the mail.” You hear some paper rustle, “it showed up yesterday. It says they’ve hired a snake.”

“King Cobra’s crew?” The second male voice asks, one you don’t know.

“They’re a myth.” Bucky says but you know he doesn’t even believe it. You’ll have to let Bossman know that his snakes that are leaving calling cards are going to get him busted.

“They’re not myths.” Ophelia says firmly, like someone who has used Bossman’s services before. You’ll have to ask.

“And you know this how?” Bucky says coolly.

“My father was a snake.” What bullshit. “He was Cobra.” Complete and utter bullshit.

“From what we’ve heard about the snake organization Ms. Sarkissian they aren’t allowed to have families.” Bucky says and you can practically see the cold look in his eyes, “so you wanna try that again? The truth this time?”

“I hired them to look into killing my abusive ex husband.” There it is.

“So why would someone want to kill you Ms. Sarkissian?” Bucky asks tightly.

“Ophelia please.” She purrs and you clench your teeth.

“Ms. Sarkissian,” you can tell his patience is running thin, “this is not the movie The Bodyguard. I am here to protect you until the threat has been found and handled.” Have fun waiting for that Bucky, it’s gonna be a while. “We do not get romantically involved with our clients. Besides, I have a girlfriend and I don’t think she’d like my client getting all handsy with me.”

“She’s a lucky woman, what’s her name?”

“Tori.”

Tag list:

@abschaffer2 @dsakita @dramadreamer14 @thesassmisstress @andahugaroundtheneck @loving-life-my-way @thefridgeismybestie @killcomet @dumblani @im-just-another-monster @mywinterwolf @scuzmunkie @biskwitmamaw @geeksareunique @paintballkid711 @lumar014 @also-fangirlinsweden @connie326 @inkedaztec @valsworldofcreativity @strangersstranger

#bucky barnes #imagine bucky barnes au #imagine bucky barnes x reader au #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader au #imagine Bucky Barnes #imagine Bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bodyguard!bucky barnes #bodyguard!au #bodyguard!bucky barnes x hitwoman!reader #bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader #Naja story

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xxdragonwriterxx · 4 years

Text

🔥The Angelus Mortis (1/2)🔥

A/N: Hey everyone, I’m back! I apologize for the really long wait but I wanted to try something different where, instead of posting one story at a time as soon as I finish it, I wrote five stories and then I went back and edited them in the order I wrote them. It took so long because I’ve been writing a ton in the past week. Hopefully I can make up for the long wait by giving you guys several stories in the next few days or so. Thank you so much for the support on “Scalding”, I was not expecting it but it makes my really happy to know you guys liked it ❤️. Now, without further ado, here is my next Levi x Reader fic!

Warning: This one is super long so I actually had to split it up into two parts so it wouldn’t be such a huge pill to swallow. I will post the next chapter asap though, so keep an eye out for part two!

Summary: Erwin finds a dangerous assassin in the Underground while Levi is on a solo mission.

~~~

Erwin sighed and rubbed his temples to try to dispel the headache that was already building there, the message from the Military Police on his desk, mocking him. He glared at it, his eyes scanning over the words again.

Gods they were so incapable. He would never voice his frustrations aloud, but he wished, for once, they could deal with their own issues. Fight their own battles without having to drag the Survey Corps back to do all of the hard work for them.

Despite his annoyance, Erwin would not have normally been so frustrated, but this situation was different than usual due to the fact that Captain Levi was gone from the base. He had been sent off on a solo mission to get some more information for Erwin on the movements of the violent gangsters that were fighting with one of the Military Police branches.

“What’s today’s headache about?” The loud, chipper voice of his girlfriend, Hanji, made him look up and grunt at her and the stack of finished reports she held in her arms.

“Oh, I just received a message from the Commander of the Military Police. There is a dangerous assassin who has been cutting down the MP’s that venture into the Underground. Apparently, this guy is impossible to catch and incredibly ruthless, known to leave pieces of the soldiers around for the officers to find later. They want us to go down there and find them, put an end to them before they wipe out an entire regiment.”

Hanji leaned her hip against Erwin’s desk and raised her eyebrow at her partner as she listened to the gruesome things the assassin had done.

“Holy shit…, who are you going to send? Levi is on that solo mission,” Hanji said.

“Yeah that’s the problem,” Erwin responded. “I’m going to have to be the one to go. I’m not going to send someone who will lose their life on this mission. There is no need to waste lives on something as trivial as catching this guy. Also, if he’s impossible to catch, the only one other than me who has enough experience with the ODM gear to navigate the Underground would be Levi, who you pointed out is not here at the moment.”

“Well, I’m coming with you then,” Hanji said. “Someone will need to watch your back, and be there to bring you back to the surface if you end up getting your ass handed to you.”

Erwin smiled at her as he shook his head.

“I’m not going to lose this fight.”

“Oh ho ho, tough guy! Such confidence, I can’t wait to watch your ass hit the ground when that assassin shows you a couple of choice moves,” Hanji chortled.

“Your obsession with my ass is noted. Now go get ready, we are leaving in an hour,” Erwin said, his eyes twinkling as he teased her.

Hanji’s laughter bounced around the halls as she exited his office to pack her things and prepare for the trip to the Underground.

__________________________

Levi grumbled lowly to himself as he nursed a glass of whiskey, his silver eyes appraising the other people in the bar in annoyance. The Captain was not normally one to drink, especially back at the base, but after having to deal with some of the most annoying people on the planet, he felt as if he deserved to relax a little.

At least neither Erwin nor Hanji were with him. That was one of the only reasons he was able to convince himself to go into the old bar; not having to worry about Erwin pressuring him to loosen up, or Hanji trying to wrestle secrets about his life out of him while he was drunk.

Levi took a sip from his glass. The alcohol slid down his throat, leaving a fiery trail in its wake to settle in his stomach, the warmth spreading throughout his gut. The whiskey was starting to loosen the headache that was holding his skull captive, allowing the usually stoic Captain to settle a bit more in his seat, enjoying the relative silence of the dingy establishment.

All day he had been forced to fight with violent gangsters, helping one of the Military Police branches arrest the most aggressive ones and scaring away the others. The whole day had been a loud, frustrating, exhausting experience, making Levi almost miss his normal expeditions outside the walls with the Titans. At least it was his last day in this shit hole, finally able to return to the base in the morning now that all of the criminals had been successfully rounded up.

Thinking about the men and women he had helped put away that day, combined with the alcohol that was circulating through his system, made his mind stray back to memories from his Underground days. For the most part, he tried to forget about his past, thoughts about his time down there, only bringing up bitter emotions. It was like reliving a nightmare over and over again.

He huffed as he tried to lead his train of thought elsewhere to no avail, his mind flooding with images from his childhood, his struggle as he and his friends fought for survival. His mind even dragged up a foggy image of a beautiful face from the dregs of his past before he quickly diverted his train of thought, refusing to think about that face, that loving smile.

Levi didn’t know if he was lucky or unlucky when his spiraling thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a woman. She wearing a severe red dress that pushed her cleavage up so her breasts were almost spilling out over the top, her lips pursed as she sat herself across from him.

Levi refrained from groaning aloud in frustration, wanting absolutely nothing to do with the woman in front of him, but also recognizing that a tiny part of him was grateful for her intrusion, distracting him from sinking further into the dark memories of his past. Now, he just had to figure out how to shrug this woman off as she leaned forward, so obviously trying to get into his pants he was surprised there was not a ‘FUCK ME’ sign strapped to her chest.

Levi scowled and pulled away from her when she went to touch his arm. To his annoyance, the woman laughed instead of moving away, her eyes sparkling with barely disguised lust as she looked him up and down.

“Look, I’m not interested,” Levi said bluntly.

“Come on, handsome, it won’t hurt for you to relax, why don’t we ditch this joint?” the woman purred.

Levi rolled his eyes so hard he was worried he’d strained something. The situation reminded him of all of the times Hanji had tried to set him up, ignoring his protests and forcing him to meet women from all walks of life despite the fact that he turned them all down without a second thought. It bothered him to no end, not only because it was annoying as hell, but also because there was only one person he had ever given his heart to, and she was gone. Nobody could ever replace her, it didn’t matter that she wasn't around to love him anymore, he refused to be with anyone else.

He figured some people would probably see this as childish, but he didn’t care. To him, he didn’t have a heart left to give, the organ dying with his lost love all those years ago.

“Not interested.”

The woman pouted but moved closer still, practically leaning into him despite his grimace of disgust.

“You don’t mean that, baby, you look like you could use a good time. Here, let me help you. I know exactly how to make you feel better. Have you ever felt the stars? Because you’re about to…,” the woman said boldly, her hand slowly drifting downward.

Levi stood up so fast he almost knocked the table over. His glare was fierce as he slammed his empty whiskey glass on the table. Piercing her with his sharp gaze, Levi snarled lowly at her.

“Not. Interested.”

Grabbing his cloak, Levi stormed out of the bar in even worse spirits than before, memories of the face that haunted his dreams floating across his mind to tease at the edges of his broken heart. Growling to himself, Levi was only grateful that he was leaving in the morning as his feet carried him back to the shitty inn he was staying in for the duration of the mission.

____________________________

This was a bad idea. Scratch that, this was a horrible idea. Erwin laid on the filthy street of the Underground, hidden in the shadows of an alleyway, holding his hand to his shoulder where a dagger was lodged, gritting his teeth as he fought back the bile that rose in his throat at the pain swelling in his body.

He had no idea where Hanji was, the pair having been separated when they were attacked out of nowhere. Erwin realized now as he lay in the dirt that he had severely underestimated this man, the assassin who got hired to kill the most powerful soldiers and officers in the military. He had read about his strength, but even with that information, he had not expected the fight to be so overwhelming.

This man was dangerous. Very dangerous. Erwin knew from the reports that the killer worked alone, using wit and cold, calculated cunning to attack in ways that not even the veteran soldiers had seen before.

Erwin’s thoughts were suddenly cut short when he heard a pained shriek, one he immediately knew to be Hanji, and watched in horror as a figure slowly came around the corner, holding the limp form of his comrade in his grip.

Hanji let out another pained noise as the figure threw her right at Erwin, the Squad Leader hitting her Commander, causing them both to grunt. Looking down, Erwin saw that Hanji had a long gash down her side, but it didn’t look very deep and she didn’t seem to have any more wounds other than some bruising. A warning.

Erwin managed to hide his nearly imperceptible sigh of relief at the thought that this assassin was considering sparing them if they only left him alone. He knew that he could never leave the assassin alone forever, but if it gave them the chance to get to safety, he could come back another time with reinforcements. It was only one man. A very powerful man, but a man nonetheless, he wasn’t invincible.

Forcing down the whimper that bubbled in his throat when Hanji moved against his shoulder, shifting the blade in his flesh, Erwin locked his eyes on the figure that was still watching them, the darkness of the alley covering any distinguishable features. The only thing Erwin was able to make out was that the figure looked smaller than he imagined. But the seasoned Commander wasn’t stupid enough to determine his threat level based on size, not when one of his best friends was Levi Ackerman, one of the shortest yet deadliest men alive.

The pair tensed when the figure suddenly started towards them, his arm reaching back to procure a wickedly sharp sword from underneath his black cloak. Erwin’s mind scrambled for a plan but he came up blank, his mind ceasing all thoughts when the figure suddenly charged them, sword held aloft.

Erwin and Hanji closed their eyes, clutching each other as the killer came for them, both of them waiting for the quick sting of pain before death, waiting for their remains to be scattered around the Underground like Easter eggs for their friends to find when they came back to their empty offices and cold beds.

Erwin sucked in a breath when he felt the cold, harsh tip of the sword touch his throat but slowly opened his eyes after a moment when the feeling stayed there, the blade hovering just above his delicate wind pipe.

From this distance, Erwin could tell that the assassin was wearing a mask in the shape of a wolf over his face, his body poised to strike as he hovered over the pair of senior officers, his breathing labored.

“Are you Commander Erwin?” The man suddenly asked, the voice deep and distorted thanks to the mask.

Erwin contemplated lying for a second, but knew he didn’t really have a choice in the matter when the man pressed the tip of their blade a little bit harder against his flesh, even causing a pinprick of blood to bubble up from under the steel point.

“Yes.”

The man hesitated for a moment. It was almost as if he were remembering something, Erwin’s name bringing up memories from another time. The Commander had no fucking clue what that could mean for them, but he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to find out.

The assassin opened his mouth to say something when all of a sudden, several ropes were thrown from the darkness, catching the killer by surprise. He leaped out of the way, dodging the ropes at a speed that could only be rivaled by Captain Levi, almost making it out onto the street before he ran headfirst into a trap of chains, the metal clinking as it wrapped around his lithe form and tightened, forcing his arms to snap to his sides and his legs to buckle.

Erwin and Hanji scrambled into a standing position and smiled in joyful surprise as a familiar Mike, Nanaba, and Moblit rounded the corner. Erwin sighed in relief and Hanji let loose a little cheer as the three other veteran officers surrounded their quarry. The pair had no idea how their friends had found them or even why they had thought to follow them, but neither cared as relief filled their systems.

The assassin snarled at them and continued to struggle against their bounds, his mask making the words coming from his mouth sound nearly animalistic in nature.

“Fuck you!” The assassin roared, somehow finding the energy to fight harder as the veterans leaned down to detain the criminal. The soldiers ignored the assassin as he continued spewing profanities while they made their way towards the stairs, their mission complete.

___________________________

Erwin blinked in utter shock as he stared at the assassin through the bars of the cell they had shoved him in underneath the Survey Corps HQ.

Only, it wasn’t a him.

Erwin could only gawk as the reality of the situation settled in, his eyes roving over the assassin’s (h/l) (h/c) hair, feminine curves, and beautifully angled face. The strongest assassin in the Underground, the one that had been dubbed The Angelus Mortis, The Angel of Death, was a woman.

He never doubted that women were strong, he trained and fought beside a whole legion of strong, battleworn women that could take down anyone in a heartbeat any day. But this woman had come from the Underground. While not impossible to gain strength in the Underground, most women, and many men for that matter, that lived in that cesspool merely ended up rotting away, their legs destroyed by the lack of sunlight and their bodies wracked with disease. Even if a woman managed to avoid the severe malnourishment, most of them were forced into brothels to be used by the wealthy merchants and nobles who decided to flaunt their wealth in the poorest part of their cities.

But this woman had fought. She had fought like an animal, a wolf, as her mask had suggested. She had used her impressive intelligence and strategic mind to avoid getting caught, all while clawing her way to the top of the food chain, making herself such a feared symbol that nobody would touch her. She was cold and vicious but not at all feral, her mind sharp and her eyes clear as she stared right back at the giant blonde Commander, her gaze never drifting from his.

Erwin leaned back as he appraised her. He could tell that despite her strength, her body was severely malnourished and neglected, the lack of proper food and water paired with the intense physical labor she pushed herself through every day, rendered her body weak and thin. Erwin could tell right away that if she were given the proper commodities and nursed back to health, she would be stunning and very powerful.

He had to think about this carefully. He had sent in an after action report to the MP’s telling them that the Survey Corps had done their dirty work for them, and they had already responded with a message telling him to bring her to one of their prison cells the next morning to be tortured to death for her crimes. He knew she probably deserved a punishment like that, she had killed a lot of soldiers, but he felt a strange tugging on his heart, like he knew, deep down, that there was more to her story, something that would make her worth much more than a street rat to be thrown to the dogs.

He had no idea why but he wanted her in the Survey Corps. He knew that she was dangerous, knew that most people would call her insane and then call him insane if he brought this up. But he felt something, like he knew that if he didn’t get her into the military, they would be losing something priceless.

“Are you going to keep staring at me like a perverted fuck or are you going to tell me when I’m being taken away?”

Erwin’s eyes snapped to hers from where they had drifted to her ribs, which were jutting out of her chest prominently.

“I knew you were going to be testy, sassy even, maybe downright insane, but I didn’t expect someone so close to death to be so confident,” Erwin said, a smirk teasing the corner of his lips.

The assassin rolled her eyes.

“I’m from the Underground, idiot, death is always a constant companion on your shoulder. I’m not scared of death, scared of the torture before death, maybe, if I decide I care enough, but not of death.”

“Is that why you killed all of those people? Because death is your friend?” Erwin asked.

“Don’t be stupid.”

“That is what you said.”

“I only said it is something I am used to, the constant threat of death and suffering, not that I enjoy it. Death is not my friend,” She growled with a sharp glare in his direction.

“So why did you kill all of those soldiers? Besides being hired to, I mean. I’d understand your motivations a little more if you had started killing other people who lived in the Underground, to give yourself an advantage, but you chose soldiers.”

The assassin was silent for a minute, breaking his gaze for the first time since he had come down to see her. He could’ve sworn her gaze clouded over slightly, as if she were remembering painful memories, but the fog in her gaze was gone as quickly as it appeared, making Erwin question whether it was even there to begin with.

“That’s personal,” she said after a heavy pause.

“They didn’t compliment your outfit?” Erwin teased, flashing a smile in her direction when she snarled at him.

“Fuck you.”

“Alright fine,” Erwin said. “Why did you ask about me? About my name?”

“That’s personal too.”

“Well you’ve got to answer at least some of my questions.”

“Why should I care about you and your inquiries?” She asked, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms in a way that reminded Erwin so much of Levi he almost smiled.

“Because it might guarantee you your life,” Erwin said.

“Who says I care about living?”

Erwin was silent for a moment this time as he scanned her with his bright blue eyes again, really taking her in. She was something, he could say that. She was unlike anyone he had ever met before. Even Levi, with his similar distrusting nature and sharp, piercing gaze was never this witty, never this sassy.

“I say you do,” Erwin said.

“Oh really? And what makes you the authority on that?”

“Nothing. You are the authority on yourself, on your emotions and instincts. I am merely an observer in this matter. I can see it in your eyes, I can read it in your posture and spot it even in the methods of your actions. In why you became an assassin, and the best one at that.”

She stayed quiet, watching him.

“I know you want to live. I don’t know anything about the personal shit that went down between you and the Military Police but I’m assuming that whatever it was was crippling, which was why you went to such drastic measures to make it to the top, to do whatever it took to make them hurt and scream. Why you never even attempted to hide the bodies. I know some people claim it was because you are cocky or egotistical, but I know better.”

Erwin leaned forward, his eyes glinting in the dull golden light of the lantern hanging on the wall. The assassin again said nothing but she never stopped watching him, playing into this game they had started, dancing on hot coals.

“Just from the fact that you did all of that. That you chose to fight back against your grief rather than succumb to it, rotting away in a forgettable corner of the Underground, shows me that you want to live. That you want to give yourself a purpose to cover up whatever loss you have felt in the past, and use it to fuel your own future.”

The assassin’s eyes narrowed on him as she pushed away from the stone wall of the cell. “I’m impressed.”

“Not quite so much of an idiot anymore, right?”

She glared at him and the smirk that spread across his face.

“(Y/N).”

“What?”

“My name is (Y/N).”

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mccartneysbass · 5 years

Text

foresaken destiney

pairing: jasper hale x reader

word count: ~2.1k, unedited excuse the over usage of commas and all other mistakes, I’m trying something kind of new with my writing sooo without further ado, enjoy!

summary: When the Cullens move to Forks, Y/N knows that something isn’t right about the Cullen family. As they investigate further into the mystery that surrounds the family, they wind up finding out more than what they were looking for. Meanwhile, Jasper struggles with the fact that his mate is human.

part i | part ii (to be posted)

Working at the front office had its perks, like having access to school files and being able to hear all the latest news, well more really, gossip from the office workers. Which was how you knew Forks was about to receive several new students all courtesy of the brand new Dr. Cullen; who had all the office workers willing to risk it all. Apparently, he was young but had adopted several teenagers after their family had passed away. Taking advantage of the office workers chattering about the Cullens, you searched through their schedules trying to see who you would end up having in class. Midway through your mini inquiry, the office door swung open and the family of the hour entered.

They all wore a variant of white and you couldn’t help but wonder if they had coordinated that morning. You handed each of the new students their schedules, each of them politely greeting you, their golden eyes shone brightly under the florescent lights. It was the last one who gave you an odd vibe. He looked like he was in pain, his hair was wild, sticking out in odd directions and he kept staring at you. His stare was broken by the shortest one, who pulled him down and whispered in his ear. You couldn’t hear what she said but it had a visible effect on him, his shoulders dropped.

He stuck his hand out at you, “Jasper Hale.”

You couldn’t help but feel tense, there was something about the new students that just didn’t sit right. But as soon as the feeling came you felt oddly calm and relaxed. Taking his hand you offered a small smile, “YN.”

Two things stuck out to you: how cold his hand was and his accent. You wondered what type of accent it was, you knew it was southern but you couldn’t quite nail the state. Alice broke you out of your thoughts, “YN, do you mind walking us to class?”

“No problem at all! I actually think I have next period with you and Jasper,” you replied. She clapped her hands before taking your arm and dragging you out of the office. You hid your surprise with a laugh, before leading the Cullens to their respective classes. Jasper was right behind you as Rosalie, Edward and Emmett trailed behind engrossed in their conversation. Alice who still had a grip on your arm, pulled you even closer to her, “If you aren’t busy this weekend YN, you should show us around Forks and Port Angeles.”

“Alice,” Jasper said firmly. There was an unspoken conversation as the two looked at each other.

“Relax, it will be fine. So what do you say, this Saturday?” Alice excitedly continued.

Running a hand through your hair, you let out a breath, “Of course. It would be my pleasure, though I will give you a fair warning, there isn’t much to see.”

“We are more interested in the company anyhow,” he drawled out. You could feel a slight blush at his words, before you could control yourself you blurted out, “I love your accent. It is uh- very soothing.” Mentally you chastised yourself, you hadn’t even known them for a full five minutes and you were already a twitterpated mess.

He smirked, “Texas, ma’am.” The accent was even more obvious.

You waved your hand in front of the classroom door, “Well this is it. I will see you next period, cowboy.”

You had seen the Cullens throughout the day, they were the only thing the school talked about and you couldn’t blame them. It was the most exciting thing to happen in Forks since sliced bread. By lunchtime, the whispering that surrounded the new arrivals was beginning to pique your interest even more. The rumors ranged from plausible to just outright ridiculous: your favorite one being where Dr. Cullen was secretly running a cult.

“So Nancy Drew, know anything about the new kids?” Lauren asked before you even set your food down on the table.

You threw one of your french fries at her, “Sheesh, let the new kids breath a little won’t you? And to answer your question, they seem perfectly nice, if not a bit odd but nice.”

“Really? They’ve been giving everyone the cold shoulder, not that I care. As if they are anything special,” Jessica added.

“I’m going to shoot my shot with the blonde one,” Tyler huffed.

Stifling a laugh you replied, “Please, the day you have a chance with Rosalie is when I meet the Beatles.”

When they entered the cafeteria you again thought they had to have coordinated. Locking eyes with you Alice waved, you glanced to the side of her and were met with Jasper’s stare. It was odd how he made you feel butterflies in your stomach while also unnerving you. You nodded to Rosalie and Emmett, while Edward only narrowed his eyes at you.

Throughout the rest of the day, you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of someone watching you. It was a constant and kept you on edge. The same gut feeling from earlier came back full force, you didn’t shake it off this time.

The rest of the week the same feeling of being watched stayed with you, even at home you felt it. You had woken up several times throughout the night and saw those distinctive golden eyes. You had chalked it off as nightmares or even sleep paralysis but when you started finding items in places you hadn’t left them before your suspicion grew.

Alice and Jasper had taken to you relatively fast, they often hung around you and made sure to greet you every morning. You couldn’t quite figure out what was the deal with Jasper, he switched between looking at you as if you had just shoved his favorite pet off of a building and like you were the only thing that mattered.

You would find him waiting for you outside the office every day, “Here let me,” he would say as he took the textbooks from your hand. As you walked together to your next class he broke the silence, “What is your favorite subject?”

You hesitated for a second before you started rambling, “History. I love the post-world war II era. Oh and the culture of the 1960s, great music.”

He gave you one of his smirks, “Really? I love history as well. Although, I am much fonder of the antebellum period.”

It was almost 2 weeks since the Cullens arrived in Forks, they continued to be the talk of the school. They certainly continued to be the only thing Jessica and Lauren discussed during lunch. Their constant digs at you for being the only person to break into their tight-knit circle were starting to get on your nerves.

“I need a new lease for my camera, do any of you want to go with me to Port Angeles after school?” Angela interrupted Jessica’s ire towards you. If it wasn’t for Angela you didn’t know how you would’ve survived the two.

“I will! I need to make a quick stop at my dad’s office to pick up some files. He wants me to help with one of his cases.” You eagerly replied, you were dreading the drive to Port Angeles and now you would at least have some company. Your Father was a private investigator and you had often helped him with his cases and around the office. He had taught you everything you knew, from being observant to never doubt your gut feelings. As you grew older you started to get more hands-on with the investigations; stakeouts and learning how to take the money shots. You enjoyed helping him out, the disappearances and bigger cases were all puzzles that were waiting to be solved. All of that for better or for worse had bled into your high school days, it wasn’t like any of your snooping was hurting anyone.

“Ooo do tell. What’s the spicy drama this time?” Lauren leaned forward.

“I can’t really say much but it is the typical money shot case. Infidelity and whatnot, the usual, it will probably eat up my weekend,” you replied, not wanting to give too much information.

As everyone scattered to get to class, Jasper brought you to the side of the hallway. “What’s this I hear about you tailing someone?” Jasper questioned.

“How did you hear? But yes, I’m doing some lightweight work for my Dad,” you answered wondering how he could have heard about your upcoming job.

“You’re not going. I don’t want you to put yourself in danger.” He scolded. You couldn’t help the flare of annoyance.

“Well, news flash for you. You’re not the boss of me, you have no right telling me what to do. I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you think. Who do you even think you are?” You snapped.

His once golden eyes were almost black, he looked like a completely different person. He grabbed your bicep as you turned to leave, you squirmed under his grip, “Let go of me.”

Before you could even blink Emmett and Edward were pulling Jasper off of you. There was an almost animalistic snarl from Jasper as they dragged him out of the school.

Alice was by your side and started leading you away, “He’s just hungry, low blood sugar.” Alice reassured you. You wanted to believe it but the way that he reacted there was something more.

“You have to be kidding me. There is no excuse for the way he was acting. Just stay away from me.” You pulled away harshly from her grip. She put her hands up, “I know and I’m sorry. You will understand everything soon, YN. Just please,” you didn’t hear the rest of what she was saying as you ran to your car.

You sat in one of your father’s car, it was nondescript, which made it perfect for your stakeout tonight. He was currently out by the border trying to catch a bounty, leaving you to get the cheating husband.

Going on this stakeout was a much-needed distraction from the happenings of today, but it was also served as time to review everything that had happened. You dwelled in your thoughts, while you waited for the husband to leave his work and head towards the mistress.

Thinking back to your uneasiness you realized that it had all started when the Cullens arrived. Was it just a coincidence or was it something more? The Cullens seemed too perfect for you, there was something not right about their story. The good Doctor Cullen seemed too young to be so well respected and not to mention all of his adopted children sharing the same distinctive eye color and skin complexion. They had to be hiding something, you made a note in of the journals you always carried with you to look into their card statements and where they had previously lived.

You were broken out of your thoughts when you saw that the husband had finally gotten into his car and was heading out. Making sure to stay a decent length away as to not create suspicion you followed him all the way to a sleazy motel on the outskirts of Port Angeles.

Taking out your camera you started taking pictures of him exiting his car and making his way towards the motel room. The door swung open before he even touched the handle revealing a young woman, she pulled him in. In their passion, they had forgotten to close the curtain fully allowing you to take enough pictures for the husband's wife to make her case. It was too easy.

Returning back to your father’s office you decided to stay instead of making the drive all the way back to Forks. You printed out the pictures, having everything ready for when the wife would come in tomorrow. Not feeling tired at all you decided to get a head start and begin looking into the Cullens.

One of the best parts of being a private investigator, well having your father be one, was having access to websites that made tracking anyone down easy not to mention digging up dirt. The records of their previous schools all said the same thing: excellent students, kept to themselves, etc. Even Doctor Cullen’s past employments praised him.

There was nothing off about their paperwork, the adoption papers, not even their credit card statements revealed anything, except that Alice apparently had a shopping problem. You stared at the screen wondering what they were hiding. It was all just too good to be true.

You ended up falling asleep on the pullout sofa, all the while Jasper’s golden eyes plagued your thoughts. For the first time in weeks, you didn’t have the feeling that someone was watching you.

#jasper hale x reader #jasper hale imagine #jasper whitlock x reader #twilight imagine #twilight x reader #my writing #wow anyways i really am beatles trash titling nearly everything after one their songs #I need to get back into the swing of writing #i feel rusty

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rainy-day-gracie · 4 years

Text

Old Friends 5

Chapter 5!! Sorry I was busy today and didn’t get a chance to post it

Spencer Reid x Reader

Spencer helps Reader deal with nightmares.

Chapter 5:

Coffee was an everyday thing for me. But recently it has become a necessity.

The nightmares started after the case in my hometown, and I’ve barely slept since. Not for lack of trying.

I had my second cup of coffee before noon, and Morgan gave me a face. “Did the pretty girl get laid last night?”

I laughed bitterly. “Far from it I’m afraid.”

“Are you sure? Those bags under your eyes tell a different story.” Morgan continued to pester me all until I sat at my desk. He just chuckled and walked away.

JJ came by to drop a stack of files on my desk, and she gave me a look too. “Did you get laid last night?”

I dropped the pen I was holding. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“Did you?” JJ persisted.

“Sorry to disappoint you JJ, but no I didn’t.” I faked a sad face. “Just a late night, that’s all.” Or a couple weeks worth of late nights.

In the desk next to me, Spencer gave me a look but didn’t say anything.

Hotch suddenly ran out of his office and knocked on Rossi’s door. They spoke a few words, and turned to look at us. “Everyone, grab your go bag. We’ll brief on the jet. Wheels up in 10.”

---

“Holden Baxley, a friend of mine from the Boston field office called me an hour ago. He couldn’t go into details, but long story short, a suicide bomber that hasn’t been identified walked into Boston PD with a bomb strapped to his chest.”

“Oh god,” JJ breathed. “What happened then?”

Hotch closed his eyes. “The bomb went off, and half of the Boston police department blew out with it.”

The jet was silent.

“How many casualties?” Morgan asked.

“17 and counting, 23 wounded.”

“Do they think it’s a one time explosion?” I could only imagine the kind of panic this would have in the city.

“No, because a note was left at the press two minutes before the bomber even walked into the station. The note read ‘God’s wrath will be unleashed on all who disrespect the word of the Lord.’”

“Old Testament much?” Rossi looked around the jet. “The fact that the news station is across town from Boston PD makes me think there’s more than one or two unsubs.”

“Guys,” I started. “What if it’s a cult turned terrorist cell?”

“That is possible, especially if the leader is a psychopath that suffered a loss and blames Boston PD.” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows. “The leader could’ve involved others that feel the same and want revenge against law enforcement. By taking on the persona of the wrath of God, they likely aren’t going to stop until they wreak ultimate havoc on the city in the name of religion.”

“We have to find them before they strike again. YLN, Reid, go to the explosion site. Prentiss, Morgan, set up in the Boston Field Office. JJ, Rossi and I will interview families of the victims and witnesses of the explosion. Try and work quickly. Something tells me we don’t have a lot of time.” Hotch didn’t miss a beat. “The wrath of God is about to be unleashed upon Boston.”

---

The entire right side of Boston PD was blown out into the street beside it. Crowds of citizens and TV news channels flooded the streets, barely being kept back by the lines of yellow tape.

“Spencer, how are we going to respond to the press?” I asked as we pulled up in the SUV.

“No comment, for now.”

As soon as we stepped out of the SUV, reporters and citizens alike screamed and shouted questions.

“Is this the work of terrorists?” “How do we know if we’re safe?” “What do you have to say to the victim’s families?”

“No comment.” Spencer and I held up our badges and ducked under the yellow tape.

“The psycho that blew the place up was blown to smithereens as well. We didn’t find any kind of ID on him.” A Boston FBI agent approached us. “Larry Dillman, Boston FBI.” He offered his hand to Spencer and I took it before it got too awkward when Spencer didn’t shake it.

“I’m SSA Dr. YFN YLN and this is SSA Dr. Spencer Reid. Where was the approximate location of the original blast?”

Dillman walked us through what was left of the front door. “About right there, when he walked into the main hall. It was noon, so there were more people busying about. That’s partly why the body count is so high.”

“Do you know if he said anything when he walked in?” Spencer asked.

“Witnesses have said he just yelled ‘Matthew 10:34’ and boom.”

“‘Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword.’” Spencer recited.

“He is literally using the Bible as his scapegoat to commit terrorism.” I looked up at Spencer. “We need to get to the station.”

---

After checking out the explosion we hurried back to the station. “Hotch!” I called out. “He’s using God as a scapegoat to terrorize Boston. The massive rage confirms that they aren’t going to stop.”

“Excuse me, Agents,” a woman stood up from her desk. “There’s someone on line 1 wanting to talk to an agent from the BAU.”

Hotch pulled Rossi up to the phone and gestured to Morgan. “Call Garcia to track the call.”

Rossi slowly picked up the phone. “Hello, this is SSA David Rossi with the FBI. To whom am I speaking?”

“Is it too pretentious to say your worst nightmare?” The voice said. Obviously using a voice modulator, classic paranoid narcissist by building himself up to be some almighty being.

“Are you responsible for the attack on Boston PD?” Rossi asked. “Michael Devons incited massive panic with a small IED.”

“Boston PD? You mean that building full of liars, cheaters, and sinners?”

“God speaks of forgiveness, but you seem to carry a lot of hatred.” Rossi looked over all of us. “Are your friends listening to this phone call as well?”

The caller was silent for a while. “You may think we see this as a game, but we don’t. God plays no games with the people he creates.” The line goes dead and I release a breath I’ve been holding since he called.

“Garcia couldn’t track it, probably using a disposable cell phone,” Morgan pointed to the crime scene photos. “These guys are smart, using voice modulators, ensuring their members die for the cause, so why would they call us for no apparent reason?”

“A game...” I mumbled. “You make think we see this as a game...”

“What is it, YLN?” Prentiss asked me.

I gasped. “What if they’re testing us? That’s why they called, to see if we could figure out their next target... Fenway Park. Are there any baseball games today?”

“Slow down, brainy lady,” Morgan said slowly. “What are you thinking?”

“He said, ‘You may think we see this as a game, but we don’t.’ What if he wasn’t talking about the bombings but the baseball games? That’s all about choosing sides and that’s something God forbids. They would see every person in that stadium as a sinner.” I looked Hotch in the eyes. “The next target is Fenway Park, it has to be.”

Hotch pointed to the head of the field office. “Are there any baseball games at Fenway Park today?”

“Yeah, Sox versus Yankees.”

“We gotta get over there,” Hotch said and we all ran out the doors. “Swat will meet us there.”

---

“We can’t evacuate the stadium, that would set the bomber off early if they see people leaving,” Hotch explained as we got on our tactical gear. “Search the stadium, most likely they’re under the stands.”

“What do we do if we find the bomber?” JJ asked.

“Try to talk them down, if you can’t... shoot straight. Let’s go.”

The nearly empty corridors of Fenway Park were eerie as I walked by myself. Every now and then I would hear noise from the fans, and the smell of cheap nachos filled the air.

As I approached concessions, I looked at all the people in line. A young couple giggling at each other, a man probably in his 70s, a pregnant woman pushing a stroller.

And an isolated young man with a giant overcoat. As soon as he caught sight of me, the guy bolted.

“FBI! Out of the way!” I yelled. “Stop right there and put your hands up!”

To my surprise, he actually stopped.

“Put your hands on your head and turn around slowly. Everyone else, clear out of here.”

The man turned around, a smug smile on his face. “Romans 1:18!”

He started to unbuckle his overcoat.

He didn’t get the chance when I shot him between the eyes.

I took a shaky breath and called into my comm. “Suspect is down. Get bomb squad in here to take care of the explosive. Fifty feet away from concessions.”

The smile was still frozen on his face, even though half of his head was blown out.

---

I was quiet on the jet ride back. He wasn’t my first kill, but my first one with the BAU, and that was sure to ensue even more sleepless nights.

Spencer sat across from me. “You were even more impressive than usual with this case. Somehow you always raise the bar.”

“No kidding,” Rossi said in passing.

“So are you going to tell me about this nightmare you’re having or...” Spencer gave me a look. “You know talking about it will help.”

“Spencer-“

“Talk to me.” I could see in his eyes he wasn’t going to give up.

“Well, it starts out with me sitting with a teenage girl. She’s a patient, and she was talking about how her teacher was... messing with her. Slowly she disappears, and the room transforms into... my mom’s bedroom. She’s standing there, yelling at me. Except the louder she yells, the more blood comes out of her mouth.” I shake my head. “I try and help her, but no sound would come out. She wraps her hand around my throat, screaming at me and spitting blood in my face. I wake up before she brings her fist down on my jaw.

Spencer was quiet for a while. “...Could it be the apartment making the nightmares worse? Sometimes a change of scenery helps distract the subconscious from the nightmares.” Spencer twirled a pen through his fingers, and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Maybe, whenever I’m lying awake in my bed I’m looking around my bedroom instead of relaxing.”

Spencer thought about something. “Well... you could stay the night at my place if you want. I could sleep on the couch and you can take the bed.” I could see his nervousness in his darting eyes and twitchy hands.

I smile. “Spencer, that’s really nice but you don’t have to-“

“No, no. I want to help.” And I could tell he was serious.

“Okay sure, but on one condition- I take the couch and you sleep in your own bed.”

Spencer huffed a laugh. “Fine.”

---

The plane landed at 10:12 at night. Not super late, but after this case, everyone wanted to go to bed.

Hotch had made an announcement on the jet that we could take a half day tomorrow and come in at noon.

“Can’t wait to sleep in until 11:45,” Morgan joked on the elevator.

Since Spencer takes the train to work everyday, he hopped in my passengers seat and immediately made a face.

“What is it?” I asked, confused.

“Your car is disgusting,” Spencer said. “I’ve seen shantytowns cleaner than this.”

“Oh, shut up Mr. Cleanliness. A couple food wrappers does not make me a slob,” I lightly punched him in the shoulder as I pulled out of the parking garage.

“It’s more than a couple,” Spencer muttered.

“I’ve starting to regret agreeing to a sleepover, pretty boy.”

---

Sitting on Spencer’s couch eating popcorn and watching Doctor Who felt so much like college that I completely forgot about the fact that I could’ve been blown up today.

We were still watching Doctor Who on the couch when my eyes fell heavy. Slowly, my head rested on Spencer’s shoulder and started to doze off.

I was barely awake when I felt Spencer press a light kiss on my forehead.

His lips felt the same as they did in college.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff

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vergilthelibrarian · 4 years

Text

Lumen.

MarkXGenderNetural!Reader

CW: Satan shows up

When you started working at Lumen Tech, you didn’t really think much about your boss.

Yes, he was handsome, kind, and thoughtful but you despised him a bit for simply being born with greater advantages than you.

Mark Lee was the youngest son of the founder and CEO of Lumen Tech Industries of Pharmaceuticals. They did research on up and coming medicine and unlike most selfish big pharma companies, they didn’t jack up the prices of their medicine.

Mark was handed the company when his father stepped down, his older brother going off to do missionary work in other countries since the Lee family were very religious Christians and that seeped into their work.

You didn’t really care about that though, the only thing you even questioned about their faith was the older brother being a missionary since you weren’t really a huge fan of missionaries for a number of reasons.

Still, you didn’t question or think about Mark Lee, his family, and how he ran the company, caring far more about getting paid and not living on the streets.

Mark was nice to everyone.

He was very humble and handsome to boot so of course some of the workers were infatuated with him. You understood why though.

He truly was a good man of faith and it was rare for you to run into people like that… still, there was something off about him to you.

Mark was perfect. Too perfect but you couldn’t think of what his flaw could be.

Whenever you saw or ran into him, he would always smile at you and ask about your day.

That’s the thing, Mark didn’t live lavishly.

He dressed normally, went to regular restaurants and cafes.

He never splurged on material things either and he always helped at the local soup kitchens.

With how he acted, you wouldn’t have guessed he was some rich kid born in wealth but that was exactly what he was and you being the literal opposite made you wonder why he acted as humble as he did.

That was honestly the reason you didn’t like him a little.

That was the reason you questioned his motives.

That was the reason why you now found yourself doing an overnight shift just so you can sneak into his office and snoop around for any flaw you could find on him.

Sighing, you shuffled the now finished papers on the desk, put them back in the manila envelope. Getting up from your chair, you walked to your boss’s office, knocking on the door 3 times.

You didn’t hear an answer.

You knocked 3 more times and again, no answer.

Frowning slightly, you turned at the door handle, surprised that it was unlocked since Mark always kept the door to his office locked, usually having some type of body guard open it for him.

He has always been a very secretive man.

You opened the door and went into the empty office, setting the envelope on the desk.

You looked behind, moving your head slightly to see outside of the room.

Once you believed no one was around, you started looking around the office.

Again, there was something off to you about your boss, you just couldn’t put your finger on as to what it was but maybe looking around his office would give you some clues.

You walked around, getting behind his desk.

Mark didn’t have much on his desk besides pictures of his friends and family, name plate and some other knickknacks. You opened his drawers, moving papers around, finding nothing interesting or strange.

Your ears soon perked up though as you heard footsteps coming down the hall and you quietly closed the drawer to the desk and moved from behind the desk just in time before Mark walked into the office, a curious look on his face.

“Why are you in my office?” he asked you and you licked your lips.

“I was finished with the paperwork and the door was unlocked so I came in.”

“Why are you still in here?” his face was blank now. You couldn’t even read his body language.

“I was just waiting for you is all.” you smiled slightly.

Mark closed his eyes and hummed.

He then opened his eyes and to you it felt as if though he was starting into your soul.

“Are you telling the truth?”

You nodded.

“Yes Mr. Lee. I swear, I was only waiting for you.”

Mark walked over to his desk and grabbed the envelope, inspecting it before his eyes went back to you.

“Okay. You may go home now.”

You bowed slightly before walking out of the office. Once you got to your desk, you quickly grabbed your belongings and sped walk out of the building.

You awoke in a field of flowers but as picturesque the scenery was, the smell of smoked filled the air but as you got up from the ground and looked around, there was no fire in sight nor smoke in the air.

As you stood in the field, the silence that was once defining was broke with cries and screams of agony, yet still, no torture of the sort was happening near you.

Cries of help filled your ears and the smell of smoke filled your nostrils.

It was all too much.

You squeezed your eyes shut and covered your ears, wanting the screaming to stop but it wouldn’t.

It got louder and louder and louder until you heard a booming voice say, “Do not be afraid.”

Opening your eyes, you looked up and saw a bright being with 6 wings, multiple eyes and a halo floating over it’s head.

Gasping, your eyes widen, goosebumps growing on your arms.

It was an angel.

An actual angel… you couldn’t believe it.

You stared at the bright being, your eyes hurting from the light but you couldn’t look away.

You were in such awe.

“Your curiosity caused your fall.” the angel said and that broke you out of your trance.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“You humans are so inquisitive, especially you my dear.” it chuckled and quickly fear began rising from the pit of your stomach.

“Why am I here? What is this place?” you asked.

“You are here because I want you to be and this place is hell.”

You gulped, your eyes widening once more.

Why where you in hell?

“Hell? Why am I here? I wasn’t that bad!” you yelled and the angel chuckled once more.

“As I said before. You are here because I want you to be here.”

“B-but I! I don’t want to be here!” you cried out, tears forming in your eyes.

“You will be by my side. You have no choice in this.” the angel said darkly. “I’ve been watching you for a long time. And I had to sit by and watch as you grew. He didn’t allow me to do anything then but now since it’s the end times, I have free reign over this realm and I plan on making you mine.”

Suddenly, the angel’s form changed.

It grew scaly legs, its feet touching the ground. Its wings turned leathery like, similar to a bat’s. A razor sharp toothed grin grew on its lips as their horns curled out, its skin a dark red.

The only things that remained was the multiple eyes and it’s halo.

“Who are you?” you asked, knowing the answer but still fearing the words that would leave his lips.

“I am Satan. But you my dear, you may call me Lucifer.”

As you typed away on your computer, you couldn’t stop thinking about the nightmare that you had last night.

Was it even a nightmare or did it actually happen?

Were you really transported to hell in your sleep and met Satan himself?

Everything was so vivid yet you couldn’t remember what he said.

No matter how hard you tried to remember, it just couldn’t come to you.

Sighing, you shook your head.

That dream was distracting you from your job.

“Hey, Y/n?” your coworker Kun walked up to your desk.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Lee wants you.” he said.

“Why?”

“He didn’t say. Though, he didn’t look happy.”

You grimaced as you got up from your chair.

Mark only ever called people into his office if they were in trouble and as you stood in front of the office door, you took in a deep breath before knocking.

“Come in.” you heard and you opened the door, walking into the room.

You closed the door behind you.

“Lock it.” he said and you listened, locking the door.

You walked to the chair in front of the desk and took a seat, surprised that his body guard, who name was apparently Lucas, wasn’t here.

“I have to ask you a question and be truthful.” he said, his brown eyes staring down at you.

“Did you look around my office?”

You shook your head.

“No Mr. Lee. I didn’t.” you answered.

Mark chuckled before raising out of his seat, his eyes never leaving you and he walked around the desk and sat on the edge of it right near you.

“I know you’re lying. Now tell me the truth… Did you snoop around my office last night?” he asked.

“I’m telling you Mr. Lee, I didn’t.”

Mark nodded his head, humming.

“Lying is a sin my dear, and you are awfully bad at it.” he smirked.

You started becoming nervous at his demeanor.

Last night, you couldn’t read him but today, his entire aura was screaming danger and you wanted to get the hell out of his office.

“I’m gonna ask you again and if you lie to me again,” he leaned down to get close to you, “let’s just say you won’t like the punishment I have for lairs, especially bad ones.”

You gulped.

“O-okay. I did look around but only at your desk! That’s it. I promise.” you said, shamefully staring at the palm of your hands.

Mark laughed.

“See how easy it is to tell the truth.” he leaned back. “As a reward for telling me your bad deeds, I have something to show you.” he said, getting up from the desk.

He walked behind you, his hands covering your eyes.

“Close your eyes. And on the count of 3, open them and look behind you.” he told you, his hot breath hitting your ear.

You nodded.

“1.” Mark removed his hands from your eyes, walking back.

“2.” your body was shaking. Something felt wrong but you couldn’t explain why.

“3.” you nervously turned around, screaming in terror and you jumped out of your chair, your hands covering your mouth, your lower back hitting the edge of the desk.

You couldn’t believe it.

This had to be a dream.

“But it’s not a dream my dear.” Mark said, reading your mind.

“You’re Satan?” you asked in fear, the full memory of the nightmare coming back into your mind. Your body shook as you stared wide eyed at the horned winged beast before you

“That’s right. But please, call me Lucifer. I hate the name Satan. It makes me seem so evil.” he frowned.

You started hyperventilating, your breathing was shallow, your head pounding and soon, you fainted.

#i hope you enjoyed the story guys ^^#mark lee x reader #mark lee x male reader #mark lee x you #nct x you #nct x reader #nct x male reader #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x you #nct 127 x male reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream x male reader #nct dream x you #yandere nct #yandere nct u #yandere nct 127 #yandere nct dream #yandere mark lee

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casey-v · 4 years

Text

Waking up

Ethan x Casey

It’s just a fluffy one shot, set after the 30 diamond car scene of ch12.

Finally I have another fic ready. I’m really busy right now so it took some time. Thanks to the encouragement of @starrystarrytrouble , that helped me to pull this through.

And again: english is not my 1st language, so please try not to notice the mistakes.

Word count: 1.5k

Disclaimer: all characters owned by PB

******

When Casey woke up, it was already morning, but it was quite dark due to the heavy clouds that were still sending pouring rain over Boston. Today, Casey didn’t mind the unfriendly weather and she didn’t care about anything going on outside her happy little bubble. She closed her eyes again and enjoyed the comfort of the cozy bed and especially the warmth of the sleeping body flush against hers.

She noticed that this was the first night without nightmares since the fatal tragedy that had taken place at Edenbrook a few days ago. The first night without fear. She smiled to herself, thinking about the reasons for her peaceful rest. First, there wasn’t enough time for a nightmare to evolve as she barely slept. And second, she felt so safe and protected by the muscular arms that held her tightly wrapped that it was impossible for any bad thoughts to get through to her while sleeping. She didn’t fool herself though, there would be bad nights again for sure, but right now all she could focus on was him, his scent, the feel of his skin under her touch, his breathing, his heartbeat…

She moaned quietly against Ethan’s chest when she thought about what had happened. After a ravenous and passionate time in his car, she had quickly run upstairs to her place to grab a few things and then they continued at his apartment what they had begun in the backseat of his car. Casey still couldn’t quite believe that she finally was here again, in his bed, in his arms, after all those months of waiting and almost giving up. Sure, there had been signs recently that his resistance was breaking, with the kissing, the TV interview and all that he had told her during the night of isolation.

But only now was she willing to let her happiness win over all the doubt and insecurities that had been with her all the time. Finally, he was ready to commit, and in her mind, she was listening to his words over and over again.

I can’t deny what I feel any longer. I want you, Casey. I’ve always wanted you.

When she felt him moving next to her, she put a soft kiss on his lips. “Wake up, sleepyhead. Aren’t you supposed to be at work already?” Still half asleep he mumbled against her shoulder. “Mornin’! I’m not supposed to be there that early. I usually like to be there early to get some work done.”

Ethan opened his eyes a little and smiled at Casey. “But usually there’s nobody there to keep me up all night.” Smiling at him coyly she answered, “then you may have to change your daily routine, because I intend to keep you up a lot in the future.”

To her surprise, all he said was “I’m looking forward to it.” She stared at him wide eyed. Was this Ethan Freaking Ramsey talking to her, world renowned doctor and workaholic? “That’s it? No work ethics, no conditions, no regret? Have you secretly switched with a lazy twin of yours?”

At first, he laughed at her remark, but then he got serious. “The only regret I have is that we didn’t do this a long time ago.” When his brows furrowed and he was about to go on, she quickly put two fingers on his mouth. “Shhhh, don’t dwell on the past. We are here now. That’s the only thing that matters. And for what it’s worth, we already know each other so well, you are my best friend. Most relationships” - she made a pause after the word relationship and expected him to flinch, but as he only looked at her expectantly she continued – “start with getting to know your partner and figuring out how the other one ticks. We already had that, we know that we can rely on each other. I trust you with my life, Ethan. I wouldn’t want to miss the time we spent together over the last year, even though it was hard sometimes.”

—

Ethan looked at Casey amazed, his eyes getting wet. How did he even deserve her? He had a bad conscience about all that he had done - or rather not had done - to her over the past month. He had treated her so bad, pushing her away all the time, he was full of regrets. But here she was, only seeing the positive side of things. He put a strand of hair behind her ear and caressed her cheek. “Have I ever told you how wonderful you are?” He didn’t even wait for an answer but pulled her flush to him and kissed her tenderly.

They relished their time cuddling and kissing until he gradually began to get a little restless. Although his priorities had shifted slightly, he still took his duties very seriously. Yesterday the team had gotten a new patient and he wanted to check how Baz and June had done with the diagnosis. But he didn’t want to admit that to Casey now. So he just tried to combine the pleasant with the useful. He tilted his head up to lock eyes with her. “Shower?”

She sniffed at him and nodded mischievously. “Yeah, you definitely need one.” Without saying anything Ethan just turned away from her and crawled out of the bed. She loved to tease him all the time, and of course he actually liked it, but for once he wouldn’t let her get away with it. He walked around the bed and stopped next to her feet. Apparently, she was unsure if she had upset him somehow. When he saw her concerned face, he had difficulties not to laugh.

Then, without warning, he quickly grabbed her by her ankles and pulled her out of bed. She was so surprised, that she didn’t even protest. And when he lifted her up and threw her over his shoulder, she started laughing uncontrollably and didn’t stop until he put her in the shower and turned up the cold water. Gasping for air she screamed "Ethan Jonah, I will let you pay for this.”

Their childish play made him so lighthearted, he couldn’t remember the time he last felt like that. But soon afterwards reality sunk in again and the shadows of the recent attack came back. While Ethan was getting ready for work Casey insisted on accompanying him. When he refused to take her with him, her voice got louder. “It’s not up to you to decide. You’re neither my boss nor my doctor right now. Here at home you’re my…”

They both stared at each other akwardly. Calling his apartment home felt odd but good at the same time. Surprisingly, he liked the idea a lot that one day it truly could be her home, their home. While he still thought about that, she silently finished “ … you’re my Ethan.”

He gently cupped her cheeks with his hands and whispered. “All three of them are worried about you. Take your time. No need to rush things.”

“But I’m afraid to be alone all day. Please let me come. I don’t want to deal with patients today, but I can stay in the office and do research for the team, read some medical journals, spend the lunch break with my friends. Just anything to occupy my mind.”

As Doctor Ramsey he knew that she shouldn’t run away from her fears. But as Ethan, he would be relieved to have her near him, where he could check on her regularly. After all, she wasn’t the only one still struggling with the aftermath of the attack. He couldn’t shake off the feeling that he had to watch over her constantly.

So he finally gave in.

—

They drove in silence. Casey felt an unease that spread in her chest as they got closer to the hospital and her confidence crumbled.

After parking the car they walked together to the front door. Hesitantly she stared at the entrance. Today, the large building looked threatening. It was silly, because until two days ago she stayed there as a patient. But now she was about to re-enter it as a doctor again and that was different.

“Do you want me to drive you home?” Ethan asked carefully. She shrugged. “Right now, I don’t know what’s worse. But I don’t want to back down.”

“Then come on, let’s go. You can do this.” He took her hand and squeezed it. Then he smiled at her shyly. “We can do this.”

Casey was still amazed at the change he had undergone the past week. Her eyes went down to their joined hands and then she sent him a questioning look. “What about ‘at the hospital we keep that line clear and bright’?”

“At the moment I don’t care. You need me, so I’m here for you.” His voice barely a whisper, he added “I’ll always be there for you.”

Smiling, Casey held on to his hand tightly and together they walked towards the revolving door.

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

Thank you for reading!

If you want to read more of my fics: You’ll find part 1 of my hiatus series here.

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

Tag list:

@queencarb @utterlyinevitable @schnitzelbutterfingers @nerdydinosaursweets @eramsey28 @mrsdrakewalkerblog @starrystarrytrouble @maurine07 @princessfuzzy12 @kenzierookie @binny1985 @adrex04

#open heart #playchoices #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #casey valentine #ethan jonah ramsey #open heart 2 #my writing #2.12

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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 4 years

Text

Worth It

Pairings: Dousy, background Pepperony, FitzSimmons, Philinda, Mackelana, and Huntingbird

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of gun use, mentions of ptsd, light swearing

a/n: Here’s my soulmate au for day 6 of @aosficnet2 ‘s AoS AU August! It’s got Modern Man!Daniel Sousa based on Enver’s appearance as a police officer in The Avengers.

___

Daisy “Quake” Johnson - Inhuman, hacker, Agent of SHIELD, and now she could add “Avenger” to her list of descriptors. The agent hadn’t been entirely surprised when she’d received an impromptu meeting with Director Nick Fury about her powers. At the time he had told her he was putting together a team, a group of people with super-human abilities that would work together to defend the world if the threat arose. She had signed on, she was already a SHIELD agent and she’d had plenty of training with her ability from her mom growing up at Afterlife, but she never met the team. Well, until about 24 hours ago. They were a bit of a nightmare (a complete shitshow if she was being blunt), none of them had worked together before so it was no surprise that they were butting heads. Daisy got along just fine with Natasha Romanoff aka the Black Widow as the two of them had crossed paths from time to time within SHIELD, but she couldn’t say the same for scientist Bruce Banner (the Hulk), billionaire Tony Stark (Iron Man), or the first-ever superhero Steve Rogers (Captain America). Of course, now they were also dealing with a Norse god of thunder who was supposedly good and his brother who was apparently bad. Thor, Stark, and Rogers: three massive egos in one aircraft.

Judging by the footage they were streaming from the museum Loki was more than just bad. Daisy had always been wary of powers, her mom had taught her that. Power was extremely dangerous when put in the wrong hands, that’s why Afterlife was so selective in choosing who got to go through terrigenesis. Loki was clearly the wrong hands and even though she really hated the men she was surrounded with, if they were the world’s only hope then she’d put up with them.

“So you expect me to believe there is life on other planets?”

Daisy sighed, trying not to get too frustrated. The man had been in the ice for seventy years, he missed a lot and probably had no reason to expect that “aliens” existed. Of course, she had known the truth since she was a child: not only was it highly probable that life existed elsewhere in the galaxy, but she was part-alien herself. Of course, no one else knew that. Inhumans were a secret from the rest of the world and it would need to stay that way.

“Oh, I’m sorry Seismic Activity, did you know that already?” Stark asked sarcastically, raising a brow at her and she rolled her eyes.

“It’s Quake, actually, and yeah, I knew that, statistically, it was highly probable that alien life exists,” she bit back, glaring at the man, “Just about everyone in this century knows that.”

“Agent Johnson if you have some sort of issue with when I was born then you should just come out and say it,” Cap said, a frown on his face as he sat up in his chair.

“Look, I couldn’t give two shits whether you were born yesterday or a thousand years ago, I just don’t think we really have time to be debating extraterrestrial life right now,” Daisy said, fighting the urge to roll her eyes again as she gestured to the holoscreen displaying Loki’s cell.

“She’s right, gear up.” Director Fury said. Daisy wasn’t sure when he had entered but she was glad he was taking her side. “We’re under attack.”

Daisy nodded, rushing out of the room to find her gauntlets and her weapons. It wasn’t a great idea to quake on a giant helicarrier so she’d probably be fighting old school.

“Woah, what the hell is that Johnson?” Natasha Romanoff was sneakier than Fury and Daisy hadn’t even known she was in the room until her wrist was tightly in the woman’s grasp.

She sighed, tugging her arm out of the redhead’s grip and slipping on her gauntlet to cover the writing. The marks weren’t uncommon, most of the world had them. They developed at age 16 and were usually the first words your soulmate said to you. However, not everyone got one or soulmates died and SHIELD specialized in utilizing the soulmark-less. That’s not to say there weren’t agents with soul marks in the organization, for ordinary agents SHIELD held a mostly don’t ask, don’t tell policy. Typically the only way to get into high-risk assignments like the Avengers was to prove the lack of a soulmate, but of course, the Avengers were less than typical.

“They make exceptions for people with powers.” She brushed it off, slipping on her other gauntlet.

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re connected to someone,” Natasha argued and Daisy huffed, turning away.

“Stark’s got a mark, and he’s actually met his soulmate. If something happens to me mine’ll never know what they missed.”

Daisy quickly slid her various knives and guns into place in their holsters before leaving, effectively putting an end to one of the worst conversations she’d had in a while. She didn’t need the Black Widow to guilt-trip her, she had herself for that. She’d heard the stories about the pain people felt when their soulmate died and it often kept her up at night, but right now she had a job to do and she’d be damned if she sacrificed the world for one person she hadn’t even met.

Of course, her dedication to the cause hadn’t mattered much, she still wound up on the floor of the helicarrier with Phil Coulson bleeding out. She didn’t know the man super well, but he was usually the agent present whenever an 0-8-4 was discovered and since Daisy was something of an 0-8-4 herself, they crossed paths pretty frequently. She knew he was an upstanding and kind man, she knew he was a good agent, and she knew he didn’t deserve to die like this.

It wasn’t long until Fury came and swept him away and Hill ushered her back into the briefing room where some of the others were gathered. They all looked worse for wear and apparently they were about ready to give up. The Hulk was gone, Loki had jettisoned Thor from the airship, and he has the tesseract and would likely be taking over earth shortly. Daisy couldn’t believe it.

“I just watched several good agents die, and you want to throw in the towel? Do you have any respect for yourselves?” She questioned, glaring at Rogers and Stark.

She stormed out when she was met with silence, passing Fury in the hallway. She wanted desperately to change out of her skintight Quake suit and get cleaned up, but she wasn’t ready to give up the fight yet, opting instead to unzip the top half, tying the sleeves around her waist. She wandered around the ship like that, her sports bra the only thing covering her torso, before finding herself on the top deck, leaning over a railing.

“Have you met them yet?”

Daisy turned to see Rogers gesturing to her wrist where the words “Who the hell are you?” were written in a neat script.

“Nah,” she shook her head, barely concealing her disappointment with a smile.

“You’ll find them eventually, or they’ll find you.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile.

“Thanks for not berating me for risking my life while my soulmate is out there somewhere.”

“Hey, I hid my makr to join a highly experimental drug trial and enlist in World War Two so I don’t have much room for judgment.” He joked and Daisy laughed, feeling a little better.

___

Daniel Sousa had been sure this would be another day at the station as he slipped his uniform over his shoulders, covering the soulmark on the back of his shoulder. Soulmarks appeared when a person turned 16, appearing at the place where their soulmate would first come in contact with them. The combination of the location of his mark and the words (“Probably your only chance at survival now let me go”) had always been a mystery to him though he hoped he would solve it soon.

He took the subway to the station, just like he did every morning. Daniel was a police officer for the 99th precinct in NYC which was about a fifteen-minute subway ride away from his apartment. Despite its obvious flaws (thanks MTA), he liked taking the subway - it was more environmentally friendly than driving himself, it was much faster than trying to make it through New York traffic or walk (though sometimes he did walk when it was nice and his leg wasn’t bugging him as much), and the crowds increased the probability that he’d come across his soulmate.

She wasn’t on the subway today again and so Daniel resigned himself to daydreams of how they might meet. He hoped it would be romantic, that she’d bump into him accidentally (it was the best way he could explain the back of his shoulder), maybe he’d catch her as she tripped over him and they’d lock eyes and she’d take his breath away. He pushed away the fears that she would be freaked out by his prosthetic or the fact that her words on his shoulder didn’t fit that scenario at all. He wanted their meeting to be perfect for her.

He was ripped away from his thoughts by his partner, Jack Thompson, telling him they had to go check out a call downtown. There weren’t any detectives involved so it likely wasn’t anything serious- probably a noise complaint or something equally mundane.

Daniel had been right, the call was a typical noise complaint, easily solved and probably ignored as soon as they left the building (Jack bet they’d be back in 24 hours, Daniel gave it 32). However, he never could’ve guessed that when they went to climb back into the squad car a portal would open up in the sky and a bunch of space creatures would attack earth. Thompson grabbed the radio to inform the station of the situation. It took a few minutes of convincing (he didn’t blame them, he only believed it because he was seeing it) and a few more to figure out what to do (there really isn’t an official protocol for Hostile Alien Invasion) before they were told to stay put and that backup was on the way.

Daniel reached for his gun, steeling himself for the fight he was sure he was about to be involved in. An alien invasion would be a really bad time for his crippling ptsd. Still, he was sure his hand would shake if he had to actually lift his gun, his finger would hesitate on the trigger, he’d have to fight to keep his eyes open because if he closed them all he’d see was Afghanistan.

“Sousa you with me?” Thompson asked, snapping him from his thoughts.

He nodded, letting out a shaky breath, when had he stopped breathing?

Thompson nodded, more to himself than to Daniel, “Good, cause we’re going to get through this.”

___

If she had been really thinking at all, she might’ve wondered if she was having an out-of-body experience as she moved through the streets of Manhattan with the purpose of a woman on a mission. The Avengers were scattered across the borough trying to fight the Chitauri with mixed success. It seemed like no matter how many they blasted, quaked, shot, or struck with lightning more kept coming through the portal. Daisy was taking out as many of the aliens as she could while trying to command the local police forces- badges or not, they were purely human and severely underprepared to fight this threat. Their services were more equipped to evacuate and protect the civilians.

She hadn’t been paying attention when she knocked into someone’s shoulder. It was a police officer, she noticed, though where most of the officers she’d seen seemed ready to take on the Chitauri head-on, he looked terrified.

“Who the hell are you?” The man questioned, quickly grabbing her wrist before she could run off.

“Probably your only chance at survival now let me go.” Daisy bit back angrily and the man gasped, dropping her arm and backing away like she had burned him.

“You’re- we’re-” The man stuttered and even though he could’ve been about to say anything (maybe “you’re Quake!” or “We’re gonna die!”) Daisy knew exactly what he meant. She knew from the burning sensation on the wrist he had been holding. He was her soulmate.

“Oh my god, I don’t have time for this!” Daisy yelled angrily, quaking the alien that had appeared behind the man.

She silently cursed fate or destiny or whatever was behind this for planning her soulmate meeting during a literal alien invasion.

“Listen, I need you to leave the frontlines- spread the word: all officers are to evacuate as many civilians as possible. Focus on protecting them.” She ordered making an effort to put the world-altering event before the life-altering event she had accidentally just stumbled upon.

“Who’s going to be there to fight?”

Daisy quaked another approaching Chitauri soldier. “Leave that to the people with powers.”

The officer nodded mutely, seemingly stunned into silence.

“Sousa!” Another officer called out, “Quit chatting we have a job to do!”

The dark-haired officer, her soulmate, nodded to the man and started to move away.

“Officer Sousa!” Daisy called, taking steps backward herself, “Maybe we can get some coffee when this is all done?”

“Sure but how’ll I find you?” He asked, turning back to stare at her hopefully.

Daisy’s steps were picking up speed, the urgency of the day not lost on her. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll find you!”

And with that she was off, turning on her heels and sprinting towards Stark Tower.

___

Daisy stared at the computer monitor in front of her. It had been a few days since the Chitauri attack and while New York and her mental state was still a disaster, she needed to do this. The file she had found in SHIELD’s database was a welcome distraction, as was the handsome face staring back at her from the screen.

Daniel Jordan Sousa. Born 1984 in Twin Falls, Idaho. Served one tour in Afghanistan before being discharged due to an injury resulting in the amputation of his left leg.

She scrolled down to the contact information.

Cellphone: (xxx)xxx-xxxx

Bingo.

Daisy: Hi, it’s Daisy Johnson, your soulmate? I was wondering if we could get that coffee?

She was surprised by how quickly he responded.

Daniel: I’d love to!

Daniel: btw how did you get my number?

Daisy: It’s a bit of a story, mind if I tell you over that coffee?

Daniel: does 1:00 work? Maybe we could grab a bite to eat while we’re at it?

Daisy smiled before checking the time, 11 o’clock. She had two hours to get ready.

Daisy: 1:00 sounds great. I know a cute place off 12th ave

___

Daniel had no intention of pulling his soulmate from the field, he knew it was where she wanted to be and he’d never dream of taking it from her. However, he’d be damned if he wasn’t out there to watch her back. So, he joined SHIELD not long after they met. Despite his prosthetic, he climbed the ranks relatively quickly though Daisy wasn’t surprised. She had seen his record both in the military and the police force, Daniel Sousa was a damn fine agent.

The two weren’t in any hurry relationship-wise. They had moved in together fairly quickly but even two years later they had yet to get engaged. It was a bit of an anomaly - soulmates were usually hitched within a year of meeting each other but Daisy didn’t really hold much stock in a piece of paper declaring their relationship valid and Daniel decided he really didn’t need that paper either as long as he still had Daisy. Besides, with their separate jobs at SHIELD, they didn’t really have much time to plan engagements or weddings.

In 2014 the pair were recruited to an elite team by Phil Coulson, the man Daisy could’ve sworn had died in her arms, the man the Avengers were told had died. She had shaken her head at Fury when she found out. “You manipulative son of a bitch,” she had said though she had meant it fondly. Who knows what would’ve happened when the Chitauri invaded if he hadn’t done what he had.

Daisy and Daniel joined scientist duo and soulmates Jemma Simmons and Leopold Fitz as well as Coulson’s soulmate Melinda May on the Bus, a giant plane Fury had given Coulson as reparations for his death. The team had its bumps in its initial missions but they quickly became a tightly knit family that only grew when Coulson took over as Director of SHIELD after the Hydra takeover.

When Daniel finally proposed Jemma had been her maid of honor and Bobbi and Elena had been her bridesmaids. Likewise, Fitz had been Daniel’s best man and Mack and Hunter had filled out the rest of the groomsmen roles. It had been a small but beautiful wedding, Daisy’s mom had allowed them to have the ceremony at Afterlife and Coulson and May had been their officiants.

Daisy had cursed fate when they met, but looking back she realized it was all worth it for this.

___

a/n: I had no idea how to end this. Also, I have no clue where the 99th precinct operates in NYC (if it even exists) I just wanted to make a Brooklyn 99 reference. Though I’m realizing belatedly that B99 takes place in Brooklyn and probably doesn’t operate in manhattan but oh well.

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saijspellhart · 4 years

Note

Oh noes! They're snowed in! And it's SOOOOO cold, they even have to share a bed! 😱😱😱

“Avalanchemon!” was the last thing Ladybug heard before she—and subsequently half of Paris—was buried under a mountain of snow.

She expected the cascade of snow to hit harder, to feel more crushing, feel colder, and even braced herself for it. But… something hard and warm had barreled into her chest at the last second, painfully knocking the wind from her lungs and sending them tumbling through the door of a nearby house. A wall of snow followed them inside, spilling harmlessly over their legs, but woefully sealing their exit.

“I take it that akuma was a digimon fan…” grumbled a very familiar voice. “I bet the new reboot really pissed him off.”

Ladybug coughed out a mouthful of snow, and managed to chortle, “He’s certainly raising hail.”

Her partner’s sweet timbre returned a chuckle next to her ear and added, “You’d think all this snow would help him chill out.” It was enough to send shivers down her spine that had nothing to do with blanket of snow covering them both.

For a moment it felt like home, like old times and security. It wasn’t until she opened her eyes to blink up at him that the sleek black leather and warm chartreuse of her memory melted and she was left staring up at pale ivory and sinister magenta.

An awkward silence settled between them, like someone driving a wedge between hearts that had, for the briefest moment, locked fingers. His pupils narrowed into nothing more than slits, as realization seemed to dawn on him. That once soft expression hardening until it was just as cold as the snow around them.

Chat Blanc pushed himself off of her, dislodging some of the ice, and shook himself free from the rest of it. Her breath held when he crawled away from her, slinking low. The temptation to laugh scraped the back of her throat because those Floofy ears of his were stained pink on the tips, and his usually luxurious tail fur was caked with clumps of snow.

“We can’t get out,” he stated flatly.

“What?” Ladybug kicked free of the snow mound and turned towards him, brushing it off her suit.

Chat shoved at a window, but it wouldn’t budge against the wall of white outside. She watched him stalk across the room to the other side, and attempt the other windows, all yielding the same results.

“We should try a higher floor,” she suggested, “maybe something up there will open?”

Chat Blanc started for the stairwell before she even finished the sentence, all too eager to find some sort of escape. No doubt, dreading the thought of being confined so near the spotted heroine; the only person capable of taking away his akumas. Ladybug followed after him, her heart holding out hope that they weren’t trapped inside this building while a snow akuma plunged France into an early ice age.

“No!” Chat bellowed, his voice echoing down the stairwell. “No no no no!”

Ladybug arrived on the top floor only to witness Blanc acting like a caged animal; he scratched against blocked windows, pushing at panes that hardly budged. His claws gouged paint chips from the frames and splintered wood. In one room he ripped the widow from its frame, and began digging wildly into the snow. His hands shoveling desperately at the wall of packed ice until his breaths came out as ragged wheezing.

And still he never reached the top.

About five feet up his tunnel of desperation, the snow collapsed.

If she had not been there to dig him out he might’ve been stuck, might’ve frozen to death. That close shave seemed to finally bring the realization of their predicament down upon Chat Blanc.

We’re trapped in here, together.

Him and Ladybug, snowed in together, until one of the other heroes defeated the akuma and dug them out. It was Blanc’s worst nightmare made a reality, while on the other hand it was Noir’s dream come true.

Chat felt all sorts of conflicted.

Ladybug on the other hand was weighing her options. There were at least five other heroes, and Carapace was more than capable of bestowing a new miraculous if the situation called for it, being the new Guardian of the Miracle box. Statistically someone had to be able to fight this akuma.

She gave her lucky charm a shot, but only managed to conjure up a blanket. It seemed to be a sign that even their miraculous thought they should just wait this one out.

“This is your fault,” Chat snarled, curling his lip at her.

“Excuse me!?” Ladybug retaliated, planting a hand on her hip. “I didn’t cause that akuma!”

“You almost got yourself trapped under that avalanche. If I didn’t have to save you we wouldn’t even be stuck in here now!”

“You never had to save me! That was a decision you made all your own, Chat.”

He opened his mouth to object, but shut it again, pressing his lips in a tight line.

Their argument interrupted when her miraculous beeped its warning.

To her absolute surprise, Chat Blanc offered her privacy while she slipped away to the seclusion of a closet to feed her Kwami and recharge her powers. He muttered something about having no interest in her miraculous, and that he wasn’t like other akumas. Despite his earlier unfounded accusations Marinette couldn’t help but feel a sting of fondness for his more gentlemanly side.

It was Noir. Chat Noir would never take her miraculous. Just like it was probably Noir that tackled her, to protect her from the avalanche. Before he’d turned white she’d trusted him implicitly. It seemed that trust was not misplaced, because even as an akuma he was trying to protect her.

“What did you see when you conjured the Lucky Charm?” asked Tikki between nibbles of a macaron.

“The uhhh… the magic highlighted… Chat.” Marientte played with one of her pigtails, and tried to will the blush out of her cheeks.

“Nothing else?” the kwami pressed, “What part of Chat was highlighted?”

“All p-parts of Chat,” she stuttered out, “and nothing else… just Chat. I didn’t tell him that though,” she quickly amended. “He thinks the Lucky Charm didn’t work.”

“Seems to me the Lucky Charm wants you to stay warm… together?” Tikki winked and took another mouthful of cookie.

“Oh god… I can’t be trapped in here with him!” Marinette hissed in protest. “He kissed me last week!”

“Well technically he kissed Marinette, and you’re trapped with him as Ladybug. Besides he’s been trying to pretend like it never happened anyway. Or at the very least that it didn’t mean anything. As long as you suit up before he smells you, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

Tikki had a point. Luckily the Miraculous’s magic rendered Ladybug’s scent unrecognizable. Unique only to the hero when transformed, and masking all her civilian smells.

“And didn’t you say you liked that kiss?” added the Kwami with a sly smile. “Seems to me like this would be the perfect opportunity for it to happen again. Chat stills likes Ladybug after all~”

“Tikki no! Spots on!”

Ladybug found Chat Blanc sulking near his collapsed tunnel, flexing his claws like he was contemplating a cataclysm.

“Don’t you dare, you could bring this whole house down on us, or worse.”

Chat flicked an ear in her direction and snorted. But he retracted his hand anyway, folding it over his knees. The clumps of snow on his tail had melted off now, and when he whipped said tail indignantly it made a soggy slapping noise against the wood floor.

Ladybug found herself getting lost in thought, watching the way his suit molded over his shoulders like a second skin. She noted the contours of his shoulder blades, and the muscles in the back of his neck, the way they subtly flexed every time he shifted, made even more apparent by the sheen of water coating the suit material.

“I’ve sent a message to all the other heroes, letting them know of our predicament,” she informed him, peeling her eyes from his back and attempting to find some other place to stick her gaze. “So long as I can keep my transformation up, they’ll be able to track our location.”

He flicked his tail again as some sort of acknowledgement, and it made the sad wet-mop noise once more.

“Did you want to help me find some towels so we can dry off?” The suggestion was more for his benefit than hers, as her detransformation and retransformation had resulted in a new dry Ladybug suit.

“No.”

Despite the sketchy electricity that continued to hold for now, the temperature in the building continued to plunge. Chat was sopping wet, and if she watched close enough she could see him shiver. In spite of his declination, she had a feeling he was going to want those towels sooner or later.

He’s being stubborn because he doesn’t want to be trapped with me, she reminded herself. The one person who could potentially steal all his akumas away and purify him.

“Fine, I’ll get them myself.”

He didn’t so much as react when she stalked away.

She wasn’t sure whose house this was, but it was fortunate that no one was home. Her Miraculous cure would put things back to normal before anyone realized Ladybug and Chat Blanc had raided their home.

And curled up in their bed.

That was another conundrum. There were two bedrooms in this house, but only one had a bed. She supposed someone could take the couch—should it come to that—but that would be in the same room that the avalanche had chased them in. And the floor in there was looking to be a bit flooded at the moment.

The other bedroom had been an office of sorts, and Chat had collapsed his tunnel in there.

Really the only rooms that weren’t a mess were the kitchen, laundry room, and main bedroom.

She briefly contemplated making Chat sleep on the dryer like the cat he was.

Ladybug made quick work changing the sheets on the bed with fresh linens, collecting clean comforters, and raiding the towels. She was on her way back with a stack of towels when she peeked in on Chat.

The office-like room was vacant, he wasn’t where she’d left him. But rather she found him curled up on the bed in the bedroom. Drooping ears, curled back in contempt, with eyes closed, and soggy tail wrapped around his soggy leather clad body.

“Get off that bed!”

“No.” Chat nestled deeper into the nest of blankets he had made.

“You’re getting the bed all wet!”

“Guess it’s all mine then.” Like a spiteful man child, Chat Blanc proceeded to rub his hair all over the blankets.

*Crack*

Ladybug stalked to the end of the bed, and snapped the towel tight between her fists. It was enough to make the akuma still, eyes narrowing. She noted the way his tail arced just slightly and the fur bristled.

“If you don’t get out of that bed and dry off, I will do it for you.”

“Such big talk from the weaker Miraculous holder,” he sneered up at her. “But, you’re welcome to try, Bug.” The inflection he put in that nickname dripped with challenge.

Don’t play this game with me, Blanc.

Ladybug lunged for him, but Chat was prepared and met her in a grapple, sending the two tumbling back, rolling around atop the blankets. He made a snatch for the towel, and she twisted it from his reach, taking swipes to mop the moisture from his suit and hair.

Amidst the power struggle, she purposefully knocked her yo-yo loose, and let it fall from her hip to the mattress, the twine anchored to her left hand. Chat didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he wasn’t concerned with her yo-yo. This gave her the chance to kick it beneath him, before using her other foot to kick it once more, looping it around one of his legs.

For next five minutes they continued to wrestle, and it was clear Chat had the advantage. His superior strength never giving her an inch, all the while she began to fatigue, her own muscles trembling to match him and keep from getting pinned, or thrown off. It was her own flexibility that saved her, managing to slip his holds and wiggle out of his grasp, keeping her yo-yo moving with precise kicks, taps, and flicks. Even taking note that he was being incredibly careful with his claws.

She wasn’t oblivious. All it would have taken were those cruel fish hooks to dig in, and he would have had her. His hellish claws able to pierce her suit, and cause all kinds of damage to her otherwise impenetrable Ladybug exoskeleton. And yet, through their entire brawl, he kept those claws retracted, relying solely on his own strength and agility to keep her at bay.

This was play. Despite his insistence that Ladybug was his enemy and his continued frosty attitude towards her, right here and now, she recognized that he was having fun. Their entire physical engagement nothing more than a game to him.

And something about that realization sparked hope, and the cozy embers of warmth in her chest. Every restrained swipe and every half hearted hold, only stoking her endearment, and although she fought with everything she had, exhausting herself to keep up with him, it felt more cathartic than perilous.

One of her trembling arms gave out, and Ladybug collapsed to her side, losing a grapple with the white cat.

Chat twisted and pounced, pushing her into the bed, face first, finally managing to pin her to the mattress. Futilely Ladybug slammed her foot into the mattress, seemingly one last attempt squirm free, but Chat kept firm his hold, failing to notice that the impact of her foot bounced her yo-yo one last time, where it landed just inches from her hand.

His palm applied pressure on her shoulder, making her bones creak, and he leaned down to growl next to her ear.

“I win.”

Yeah, you go ahead and relish that victory, Kitty.

She responded by tugging on her yo-yo sharply, causing the weapon to retract its twine. The string suddenly drawing tight, as all the looping and weaving she’d done during their scuffle came to a head.

“Whaaaaaaahhh!” Chat made an inhuman screech as twine tightened around him and he came down, crashing into her back, writhing like an animal. The struggling causing her yo-yo to pull tighter.

She released a breathe of triumph and rolled over to face her prey.

“I win,” she jeered back, a devilish smirk etching her face. Snatching up the towel, Ladybug shoved it into his stricken face, mopping his wet hair while she relished his immobile state.

Chat had no words, just made angry huffing sounds through his nose.

Slowly and methodically, Ladybug ran the towel over him. Though most of the water had been rubbed off onto the bed, she wanted to relish this and take her time drying him off. One floofy ear, then the next. She paused when her hands brushed his earrings. Maybe he noticed her open admiration, the way she ran her thumb over the simple gold hoops.

When she snuck a glance at his face, his gaze was turned pointedly away, frowning so hard his fangs dug into his bottom lip.

This was a familiar scene. Outside the mask, Chat often treated Marinette with this sort of indifference. Never wanting to make eye contact even whilst he pushed his head into her lap, demanding to be petted.

The temptation to stroke his ears was too much, and Ladybug chanced it.

But Chat Blanc must’ve had a lock down on his vulnerable side, because the only noise she got out of him was an annoyed growl. A stark contrast to the ease of which he would purr under Marinette’s fingers.

You would have enjoyed this if I wasn’t in the mask.

She cast a look at the trussed up and quite helpless cat, and proceeded to run the towel over him. Starting with his shoulders and working her way down his chest, then over his stomach, stopping just above his belts.

Chat made another huff, testing the binding, before letting his muscles go lax again.

“Roll, over so I can get your back and tail.”

A feral hiss spilled from his throat, and Chat barred his fangs at her.

“Don’t be a pill. I wouldn’t have had to tie you up, had you simply let me dry you off to begin with.”

Too petulant to use his words, he opted to snap at her when she attempted to touch him again. Teeth narrowing missing her wrist. Rather than be intimidated, she sharply yanked on his shoulder, forcing him onto his belly.

And that’s when she discovered the source of his foul temper.

“Oh, shit.”

Somehow, amid all their wrestling and her careful weaving of the yo-yo twine, she’d managed to catch his tail in it all. But Instead of pinned securely against his leg, it was caught between several loops, and kinked at an odd angle; no doubt incredibly painful for him.

“I am so sorry.”

Ladybug reached to free his abused tail, but the moment she touched the fur he loosed a viscous snarl and fought the bindings. I was enough to make her withdrawal.

“Do you want me to help you or not?” she snapped, pressing her hands against her thighs and leveling him with a hard look.

“You did this to me,” he spat, still barring teeth.

“You didn’t leave me with much choice,” she countered, and the lights in the apartment flickered as if responding to her ire. “And I seem to recall you welcoming me to try. That’s a challenge if I ever heard one.”

Chat looked like he was about to respond when the lights flickered again, then went out completely, plunging the room into darkness.

Oh sweet mother of mercy… Not only was she trapped with Chat, but now she couldn’t see anything.

Not that Chat will be overly affected by it, she lamented to herself. Kitty night vision and all that noise.

The excessive snow had finally managed to knock out the power in their building, and no doubt the rest of the surrounding neighborhood. Which meant no heat, and no lights. And the absence of the latter was going to make untying Chat a real chore.

“So about that tail…” Ladybug reached a hand out to his side, and placed it on his ribs.

“You know,” he rasped, sounding much less combative than before, “staying tied up until the turtle and foxy dig us out doesn’t sound so bad.”

“—I think I can get it free.” Feeling confident she knew where to touch, she moved her hands farther down, reaching out for where she thought the start of his tail might be.

“I’d rather you noAaaaa—,” Chat broke off in a strangled noise.

“That's—” Ladybug stilled her hand, and had to will herself not to squeeze. “Oh. That’s uh, nice—I mean—did I hurt you?”

“This is harassment.”

She bit down on her lip to keep from snickering. Reminding herself to focus, she slid her hand over the one cheek until she found the top of his tail. “You can sue me later,” she replied, surprised at the amount of control she had over her voice.

“I will,” he groused, “I can file sexual assault. You’ll be receiving a strongly worded letter from my—aiiiiittt!” Chat suddenly bucked beneath her hands, and she felt all his muscles go tight, even the ones in his glutes. “You do NOT need to put your fingers there!”

“Would you calm down?” she rebuked. “I’m not trying to finger you, I needed to get my hand under your tail.”

“You need to get your hands OFF my tail.”

Ladybug heaved a sigh through her nose and ignored him, following the direction of the fur until she came across the first loop of twine. Taking a moment to feel it out, she attempted to pull his tail through it.

“Stop! P-please stop!”

Immediately her hands stilled.

“Did I hurt you?”

Chat let out a shuddering breath, “…yes.”

She sucked in her own breath, and tried to calm her nerves. “Ok. Let me find my yo-yo. It’ll probably be safer if I untangle all of you, than trying to manipulate your tail from the twine.

There was a moment of two of silence as she patted around the mattress for the mechanism of the yo-yo, her hands bumping into him on occasion.

When Chat Blanc finally did speak again it was to ask, “I take it this means you’re going to be feeling up the rest of me.”

Her hands located the yo-yo next to his chest, and followed the twine along his defined shoulder blades before it disappeared below his rib cage.

“Why, Chat,” she teased, “before you were akumatized you would have loved that.”

His response was a snort that she could have sworn sounded amused, before arching his body so she could reach below his chest. “Just, tell me how I need to move, my La—uh… Bug.”

~0000~

This part one of a two part uh…. drabble? Oneshot? This got a lot longer than I expected. There’s another part coming.

Part of my Floofy-eared Chat Blanc AU.

If you guys like what I do and want to help support me, consider buying me a coffee: https://ko-fi.com/z8z299sh

#floofy eared chat blanc #miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #akumatized chat noir #LadyNoir #LadyBlanc #Marichat #chat noir #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ask answers #saijspellhart answers #saijspellhart writes #ask drabbles #fanfiction #fanfic #chat blanc

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jessicajonesrp · 4 years

Text

Choosing sides

Jessica was dreading this conversation, more than any she could ever remember having in her life. She wasn’t much of a talker by nature as it was. But talking about important, uncomfortable things, things that were life changing and painful…honestly, Jessica would rather break several bones, because that kind of pain was far easier for her to deal with.

She knew that Luke and Trish were right about Phillip. They had literally shoved the proof in her face until she couldn’t deny it. But that didn’t mean she knew what to do about it. Stop him, obviously. Their suggestion had been for her to talk to him. She, apparently, was the only person Phillip might respect enough to listen to. But Jessica had never been good at convincing when it came to words rather than threats, and there wasn’t a lot she could threaten Phillip with that might be effective. She couldn’t even tell people she loved them without having a near panic attack over it. How was she supposed to convince her brother to stop killing people?

She had barely slept, considering the large quantity of alcohol she had consumed the night before, and the little sleep she snatched was plagued with nightmares that left her gasping and trembling when she woke. Hungover and on edge, she had been fighting to ignore Kilgrave’s voice whispering in her ear for most of the morning as she drank several cups of coffee. She couldn’t completely block out his assurances that she was doomed to failure before she started, that her brother actually had the right idea to kill everyone who had hurt him and Jessica, and nothing she said would convince him otherwise. She couldn’t stop hearing his goading her to give up the hero “act” and join in, to abandon Luke and Trish, who could never really understand her and who would never really think her good enough, and join up with her brother, as her genetics had already predetermined she would.

She would never actually listen to Kilgrave’s voice in her head. But she couldn’t help but hear it, and it rattled her before she could even begin.

She called Phillip mid morning, arranging with him as casually as she could to come by his apartment to pick him up and take him out for breakfast. What she didn’t tell him was that once she got to his apartment, she would make an excuse to need to use his bathroom, then spring her confrontation on him within the privacy of the walls. She also didn’t tell him that Luke would be riding with her to his apartment and once he saw both Jessica and Phillip go inside, he would come to “casually” stand outside on its landing, just in case she needed help or interference.

This wasn’t Jessica’s preference. She had insisted, with some heat, that she didn’t need help or a bodyguard, that if she was going to talk to Phillip, they needed privacy. But both Luke and Trish had been equally insistent that given what they knew, they refused to let her be alone with Phillip without someone at least within hearing distance of her if he tried something. As Trish had pointed out, whatever Jessica’s strength, she wasn’t immune to fire, especially if it happened to be all over her body at once.

She was quiet in the car ride over to Phillip’s, but her knees jogged in an irritatingly hyperactive manner that she blamed on excessive caffeine or possible alcohol withdrawal rather than nerves. As they parked the car and Jessica walked alone to the outside landing of Phillip’s apartment/motel, she was very aware of her heart having decided, seemingly, to lodge itself uncomfortably high in her throat.

Phillip opened the door with a smile and a nod; something she had noted was that like her, he didn’t seem one for excessive physical contact. She attempted to return the smile but was pretty sure it looked more like a grimace.

“Hey, sis,” he greeted, looking unruffled, even amused. “Rough night?”

She wondered whether it was the not-smile, her barely brushed hair, or her skin’s even paler than usual hue that had clued him in on that.

“You could say that,” she said vaguely. “Hey, can I come in for a second to use your bathroom?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, stepping back to let her in. “You’re not going to throw up, are you? If you’re that hung over, breakfast might not be the best idea.”

“No, just need to pee,” she muttered. She quickly scanned the interior of the room as Trish had when she broke into it, noting as Trish had how very little personal belongings were inside it. Did her brother really have so little in the world, or was it possible that he had a storage building somewhere that had things he didn’t use on a daily basis or didn’t want others to see?

She took her time in the bathroom, avoiding her reflection in the mirror. When she emerged, knowing there could be no further stalling, she started to talk.

“Phil, we have to talk about something important before we go anywhere or do anything.”

“I agree,” Phillip said with surprising seriousness, and Jessica blinked, wondering if it was possible that he had somehow already guessed the reason for her visit and the planned discussion. Could this be easier than she thought- was he already ready to stop on his own, even ready to confess?

No, as it turned out.

“Your drinking concerns me, Jessie,” he said solemnly, looking Jessica in the eyes. “Every time I’ve seen you, you’re drinking or planning to drink, or you’re hung over from being drunk the day before. I’m all for letting loose and having fun sometimes, but I don’t think that’s what this is for you. You’re a married woman now, and I know that sometimes…well, it can be hard to deal with relationship stress, and especially when there’s serious problems there. Sometimes people use drinking to deal with something that they don’t know how to escape. I know you’re strong and independent, you don’t like to ask for help. And your husband has been nothing but nice and generous to me, but I know some people are one way in public and another way behind closed doors. Jessie…are things okay with you and Luke? You would tell me if you needed help, wouldn’t you? If he was hurting you? The way you drink, and how he just stands back and lets you, like it doesn’t bother him…it worries me, Jessie. You know I would do anything to help you, don’t you? Anything at all.”

Jessica had to take several seconds to attempt to process his words. They were so completely off and twisted and unexpected that they stunned her silent. When she finally understood what he was implying- in multiple ways- it struck her as so wrong as to be morbidly funny, and she burst out laughing. Phillip continued to regard her, his expression still serious.

“It isn’t funny, Jessica. Men should protect their women, even from themselves, if necessary. If he’s doing something to drive you into this kind of drinking, or even if he just encourages you or thinks it’s fine-“

“Oh my god, shut up Phillip, would you just stop?” Jessica blurted, her laughter cutting off as Phillip pressed on. “This isn’t about Luke. None of that is in any way even a little bit true, so just stop it, you’re wrong, okay? You don’t know shit about Luke, and however much so-called research or if you want to get real about it, stalking, that you’ve done on me, you obviously still don’t know a lot about who I really am either. We’re not talking about Luke, and if you say anything that even implies he would hurt me again, to anyone, I swear I’m punching you upside the head. We have to talk about you, Phillip. You.”

She swallowed, then squared her shoulders, drawing herself up to her full height and softening her tone, but not the steel behind her voice.

“I know about you, Phillip. I know what you’re doing, and what you’ve done. It doesn’t matter how I know, I’m a PI, so I know, okay? Do me the favor of not playing stupid. Respect me enough as your sister to look me in the face and admit that you’re the one who set my office on fire. Look me in the eyes and admit to me the truth. You killed that woman in the parking garage. You killed the doctors that operated on us both after the accident. You killed at least four people that I know of, and you’re planning on killing more. Look at me and admit it.”

Something furtive and strange flickered over Phillip’s eyes, and his jaw tensed, his Adam’s apple bobbing briefly. He didn’t noticeably shift his posture, but Jessica was aware suddenly of the slight advantage in height that he had over her, the larger size of his frame, and the subtle darkening of his expression.

“You already think you know everything, so I suppose there’s no point in giving denials when it won’t change your beliefs,” Phillip said quietly. “So if you know what you think you do, Jessica, then you know that I didn’t choose my…abilities, no more than you did. They were forced on me, just as they were forced on you. Think about this, Jessica. A little boy, barely alive, lied to that every person in his family was dead. Experimented on against his will, not for his survival, or even to help, but for the interest and egotistical satisfaction of adult men who liked to play god. Painfully, and for no other purpose than to see what could be achieved. I could have been normal, Jessica. They could have let me be normal, but that didn’t happen. They could have let me have a normal life, with my sister, a normal childhood.”

He was just warming up, taking a step towards Jessica. She resisted her urge to back away.

“The foster parents, they all knew, do you realize that? They knew who I was and what had been done to me, what I could do. They got extra money for taking me in, and for the measures that they took to supposedly keep me safe. I grew up in foster homes where I barely interacted with anyone, where I didn’t go to a normal school or have normal interactions with other kids. I had a bed made of steel, no blankets, and was kept in homes specially designed and insulated against fire. Mostly, I was kept in my bedroom. And once I was eighteen, I was dumped out on the street to get by on my own. I had nothing. I was given nothing, I was lied to, and I had to find my way, find the truth, all alone.”

“Phillip,” Jessica started, her mouth dry. She could imagine this all too vividly, and her chest ached for her own memory of her ten year old brother, alone and terrified, believing himself orphaned, as herself had. “I hate what happened to you, but that doesn’t make what you’re doing right. We’ve both been through terrible shit, we both had it rough, but that doesn’t mean-“

“Do you know that when I set a fire, I feel the heat through my entire body, nearly as intensely and painfully as whoever it is that experiences the outside burn? You understand, then, that I don’t take this ability lightly or use it frivolously. It was given to me out of arrogance, but I use it for only the good of society,” Phillip interrupted her. To Jessica’s incredulity, he seemed to be completely serious. “You have to know, Jessica, that those people you say I murdered did not deserve to be living. They abused a child, their positions of medicine and as caregivers, their power and authority and the respect that society gave them. Think of how many other children may still be vulnerable to them and abused by them, if I hadn’t intervened. I only did what was right.”

“Phillip, that isn’t true!” Jessica snapped. “Listen to yourself! You are not a personal judge and executor of whoever you come across that’s immoral, you’re not some kind of vigilante appointed by destiny to murder fucking scumbags! You have to know that isn’t right, that isn’t how you go about life! People like us, however we got our powers, we can’t use them like that against people. It isn’t okay, Phillip, it isn’t right!”

“You’re one to talk,” Phillip said coolly, looking her dead on and with considerable judgment. “I know what you did to Kevin Kilgrave, Jessica. You say you can’t use your powers like that, but isn’t that what you did to him? You killed him, because you thought it was what society needed. Tell me again how what I’m doing is any different.”

Jessica’s mouth opened, then closed, her pale cheeks flaming. It was the same argument she fought against with herself every day, the same thing that Kilgrave often said to her. She knew that this was different, logically, but emotionally, Phillip had hit her in a vulnerable spot.

“That was different,” she said finally, but with less conviction than she would like. “Kilgrave could and would hurt anyone and everyone, and there was nothing that could stop him. Nothing but me. These people are just humans, Phillip. Evil humans, maybe, but still humans. They can be dealt with through traditional societal means. Hell, they can be bullied and coerced into confessing, if it comes to that, but they can have jail time, they can be contained within a jail cell, they aren’t a threat to every single person they ever come across. They aren’t like us, Phillip, and what you’re doing, it’s making you worse than them. It’s making you become worse. Is that what you want? You want to be worse than the people you know were wrong?”

But Phillip was already shaking his head, a hint of a sad smile twisting his lips.

“They’ve done a number on you, haven’t they? Trish and her twisted, lying, money hungry bitch of a mother. Luke too, whatever front he puts up of being such a gentleman, such a helpful, friendly sort of guy. They make you think you’re different, you’re special, you have a purpose, but only as they define it. There is no limit to who you are and what you should do. You survived the power they gave you and how they gave it to you for a reason, and you refuse to use it like you can.”

“No,” Jessica countered. “I refuse to use it as I shouldn’t. And I can’t let you use it like that either.”

Brother and sister regarded each other silently, a wide chasm growing deeper between them with each second as they took in each other’s stance. Jessica had never felt so alone as in that moment; in a way, it was as bad as the first few moments of understanding that her entire family, as she had thought at the time, was dead. She was standing only feet away from her brother, but she was losing him again, even as he stood breathing and within grasp.

“What are you going to do to me if I don’t follow your self imposed rules, Jessica?” Phillip asked lightly, but there was no lightness in his expression. “Beat me up? Knock me out and chain me?”

It was something she was considering, although she didn’t currently have the means to carry it out.

“What will you do if I try?” Jessica countered. “Burn me alive like your other enemies?”

Phillip didn’t answer her directly. Instead he nodded his head towards the door, gesturing in its direction.

“I think it’s safe to say that our plans for breakfast are cancelled, as of now,” he said softly. “Why don’t we leave things as they are, for now. Go back to your husband, Jessica. I suspect he’s standing outside the door right now, or else waiting in the parking lot. Go back to your husband, and why don’t we just forget this conversation.”

“I can cancel breakfast, and I can go to Luke, but I will never forget this,” Jessica leveled back at him, every muscle in her body tensed with her effort to hold back equal urges to knock him out as he had stated, and to break into tears. “I think it’s safe to say you can consider yourself fired at the warehouse, Phillip.”

She backed towards the door, never taking her eyes off him; she could not be certain now, could not trust, that he would not set her on fire, if she did. Touching the doorknob, she stopped, leveling one last effort towards him.

“Phillip…please. Please, you have to stop this, you have to. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be this. Please, please be the better person. Be the person our parents would have been proud of, the person I can be proud of. Please, Phillip, please don’t do this to yourself. Don’t do this to me.”

Her voice nearly broke, and she bit hard on the inside of her cheeks to regain control. But Phillip’s expression barely wavered.

“Unfortunately, Jessie, I don’t remember enough about our parents to have any idea of what they would have been proud of, so forgive me if I have to go by my own judgment.”

There was nothing more she could say to that. There was little she could have managed without a complete loss of control to either violence or tears, so Jessica left, slamming the door behind her hard enough that the doorknob broke off in her hand. Tossing it down, she brushed back Luke, head down, without speaking, almost throwing herself into the car.

Phillip watched her leave through a crack in the blinds of his motel window, waiting until he was certain she was out of earshot. Then he picked up his phone and dialed a contact that showed up on his list of calls and texts far more often than any other- Rikarah Pallaton.

“Hey, baby. So Jessica knows, and she reacted about like we thought she would. Looks like it’s time for me to move in with you full time, if you’re ready. And it looks like we need to skip a few steps ahead.”

“Of course,” said a smooth, unruffled female voice on the other line. “I didn’t think she would accept reality quite so soon, with the drinking being a factor in clouding her judgment, but I suppose she’s sharp enough regardless to piece things together. Are we targeting the Walker woman first- the mother, of course?”

“Yes,” Phillip nodded, his tone cold. “You have her number. Make the call today, and let me know when she’s in place for my part.”

“Certainly. I’ll see you soon, love.”

#jessica jones roleplay #luke cage roleplay #luke cage #jessica jones

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bluejaywriter · 3 years

Text

The Sun and the Moon - deleted scene

This scene was supposed to take place after Hippolyta and Martha became engaged, but there was already too much angst about Hippolyta’s old lovers and Jonathan Kent, so I axed it. I found it again and added a bit more to the end as a gift to you all. (It ended up longer than expected, as per usual, haha). Happy pagan tree day! 🎄

______________________________________________________________

The lone figure of Martha Kent is not one that often graces the edge of the training field, but it is a welcome sight, nonetheless. Antiope smiles as she notices her silhouette against the sun, looking lost and uncertain, surrounded by these fierce, half-naked warriors.

“Welcome, My Lady,” Antiope says as she strolls over, offering up what she hopes is an encouraging smile instead of the tell-tale smirk her sister complains about so often. “Are you here to begin your training at last?”

Martha lets out a nervous laugh, managing to look both frightened and amused at the same time.

“I—no, that does not sound like a good idea, for you or for me,” she says, blushing and glancing away as the women marching past on the field greet her with wide smiles and murmurs of, Good morning, My Lady. “I wondered if we might talk… in private.”

Antiope raises an eyebrow, but she gives a short nod toward one of the armored warriors who is standing guard, then leads Martha off the field. They walk a short distance down to one of the lowest buildings of New Themyscira, almost a hut set into the limestone. Martha follows timidly as Antiope swings open the door and waves her forward.

The inside of the building is snug, minimalist, almost cabin-like: a sheer contrast to the open and airy rooms of the palace. A simple bed lies tucked against the wall, and an even smaller kitchen is set beside the door.

“On Themyscira, just as much of our training was done in the city as in the wild. Menalippe and I had no use for elaborate rooms or carved hallways. We made our homes in the places where we laid our heads at night, whether it was upon feather pillows, stinging sand, roots and stones.”

Antiope brings out a chair and gestures for Martha to sit. She does, folding her hands into her lap, then she takes a deep breath and tries to force herself to relax, or to at least keep her knees from shaking.

“Now.” The Amazonian general seats herself and leans forward. “What has my foolish sister done this time?”

And Martha gives a small smile, shaking her head.

“It’s nothing foolish, it… I just don’t know who else to talk to, who else to ask.” Martha glances away, wringing her hands. “The Queen and I are… engaged. We’re going to be married.”

Antiope doesn’t react.

“Well done.”

Martha nods once and goes on.

“Yes, but… before, we had this long discussion about—I don’t even know. She seems so concerned about what I want, about making sure that I’m not unhappy, and it’s almost to the point of, she… she gives me what she thinks I want, instead of what I say I want. It’s not quite that, but it’s something similar. It’s like she’s hyper-worried about me being unhappy.”

“Hmm.” Antiope’s startlingly blue eyes—lighter than her sister’s, sharper, somehow—gaze back at her for a moment, then she turns in her seat and seizes the pitcher of water from the wooden shelf behind her.

“Is that a bad thing?” she says casually, pouring herself a glass and offering one to her guest. Martha shakes her head with a murmured, No, thank you.

“I mean, no, not in theory,” Martha says quickly. “But it’s not realistic, no one is happy all the time. And especially not me.”

Antiope drinks, but her eyes never leave Martha’s face. She doesn’t speak, and Martha stumbles on,

“I mean… I am very happy here. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. And Hippolyta is wonderful, I love her, and I can’t wait to be married to her. But I can’t seem to get her to understand that I’m here by choice, that I want to be with her, that… that her entire world doesn’t have to revolve around me, and making me happy. I’m not that high maintenance, I was on my own for years, I don’t need to be coddled. And it’s not—it’s not that she’s coddling me. That’s not fair. It’s just… I’m afraid of showing some sides of myself to her, because I know she’ll try to fix it. And sometimes I don’t need someone to fix it, I just need someone to listen, and be there. Sometimes that’s enough. Do you…?”

“I understand, Martha Kent,” Antiope sighs, leaning back in her chair, stretching out her legs in a way that almost seems nonchalant. “I’ve heard it before. Why do you think Diana trained with me instead of with her?”

But Antiope waves her hand impatiently before Martha has a chance to form some meaningless answer.

“The Queen… is very protective. She was before the Amazons’ enslavement, but after… it became unbearable to her, the thought of any of those under her protection being in pain. It took centuries for her nightmares to stop, centuries of Mena staying up with her, praying over her, plying her with sleeping draughts. The Amazons know, and they understand, and they love her for it. None of us blame her for what happened, we all welcomed the men with hope and optimism. But she took the weight of what happened upon herself, and for so long, love and pain—romantic love—were one and the same.

“She has loved no one since Heracles, did you know that? In order to truly understand her, you must understand the depths of her rage at his betrayal. If her had wronged her only, perhaps… but he overtook her country, enslaved her people, stripped her of her rule for a hundred years. And she has forgiven him now, of course, it has been thousands upon thousands of years—do not think for a moment that she is still living in the shadow of a man. But it changed her, frightened her. I urged her constantly over the years to move on, to allow a woman to soften her, forgive her, to let go of this damned guilt. We were free. It was time for her to live as a free woman, to enjoy the life that we fought so hard for. And I do believe she tried. She truly tried. But until you, she found no one who could love her and soothe her like you apparently can. So you are the one who must be patient while she deals with all of these issues that she has not faced since Heracles.”

Martha stares down at her knees; they’re trembling now for a different reason.

“I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

“It is very likely that she didn’t want to upset you,” Antiope replies, rolling her eyes. But her face is not unkind as she reaches out and grips Martha’s hand.

“She may be a Queen, Martha Kent, but she is still a warrior. Get in her face and tell her, and do not back down when she tries to withdraw. She will listen to reason if you persist, but not a single moment before.”

Antiope rises and tosses aside her empty glass of water, apparently finished with this conversation, but she pauses and glances back down at Martha’s miserable figure.

“But… do it in private. The Queen hates being accosted in public. It is a lesson Diana never learned.”

____________________________________________________________

Martha finds her target in her office that night, sitting at her magnificent desk, reading through a stack of scrolls: reviewing the business of the day, scanning through the business of tomorrow. She looks up when Martha steps in, and gives a small smile of welcome.

“Little one.”

“May I… I’m sorry to bother you, I’ll wait til you’re done, I just wondered if I could speak with you.”

“You can always speak with me,” Queen Hippolyta says, an eyebrow raised, concern seeping into her expression, but Martha reaches over and lays a hand over hers.

“Hippolyta—darling. Finish your work. I’ll just be right here.”

And the Queen studies her for a moment, then she nods slightly and goes back to her scrolls. The engagement ring looks so beautiful on her hand, and for a moment, there’s a lump in Martha’s throat as she seats herself on one of the low benches along the limestone walls, and it’s because she put that ring there, she picked it out, and knelt before her, and put it onto that finger, and they’re doing this, they’re in it for the long run, and sometimes they’ll be running with the wind at their backs, holding hands and laughing as they fly together toward the sunset, but other times…

Hippolyta’s hand is a blur, and the next thing Martha knows, the sound of rustling parchment is startling her, and Hippolyta is facing her, opening her arms.

“Come here.”

And Martha goes to her and sits in her lap, wraps her arms around that long neck, and kisses those red lips.

“Now, my patient one… tell me what it is that has put these lines of worry over your forehead.”

And Martha wants to snuggle closer, to say, Oh, it’s nothing, and enjoy her lover’s touch for just a little while longer, but she knows she must speak, and so she sighs and raises her head to look the Goddess of Death in the eye.

“I… went to see Antiope today.”

“Oh? What did my reckless sister do this time?”

“You know, she said something quite similar about you,” Martha says with a faint smile.

“I’m sure she did,” Hippolyta says, but her face is open, expectant, and Martha stumbles on.

“I… I want to tell you something. And I want you to listen, don’t—just let me finish. Okay?”

Hippolyta looks mildly surprised, but she nods and waits as Martha bites her lip, then begins.

“I’ve been unhappy a lot. For a lot of my life, just… so many deaths, and not being able to live and express this part of myself freely, and... it was a lot. And it got even harder after Clark died, it just felt relentless, one bad thing after another, the farm, and the house. When… when I went to see Lois in Metropolis, I was at the end of my rope. I was ready to give up, I was ready for it to be over. My family was gone, the farm, my husband’s legacy, everything, it was like I was at my wit’s end.

“And maybe if my life had been easier from the beginning, I would be a happier person. And I’m not saying everything was horrible but… it was a struggle, and it took its toll. I’m not a naturally happy person, Hippolyta. Most people aren’t. And sometimes… it feels like you don’t give me permission to be unhappy. Like, it’s natural to not be happy all the time, it’s natural to have bad days. And I feel like you’re afraid of that. And I want you to know there’s nothing to be afraid of, I’m right here. I’m staying right here, in sickness and in health, on good days and bad days. I want to be with you. You could give me a—a magic scepter right now that would let me fly back home, and I wouldn’t go. I’m with you. I want this. And I need you to believe that, or at least try. I just… I can’t have that conversation anymore, that conversation of am I happy, and is this really—I’m happy, and if I’m not, and there’s something you can do to change that, I promise I’ll let you’ll know.”

Hippolyta gazes back at her, and for a moment, Martha thinks that her eyes are beginning to get watery, but the magnificent Queen only pulls her a little closer and presses a soft kiss to her forehead, as if to kiss away her wrinkles of worry.

“Very well.”

Martha waits, but apparently Hippolyta isn’t planning on adding any more.

“‘‘Very well’, that’s it?” she says, her voice a bit too cranky, but Hippolyta just leans back a little so she can tuck a strand of hair behind Martha’s ear.

“All you have said is true, little one. It is your truth, and I have not wished to see it. And perhaps I have been too careful with you—Antiope told me countless times when Diana was a child that I was too protective of her, that my love was suffocating her, stunting her growth, limiting her potential. And with you… you are a human, Martha Kent, and you are fragile as all humans are, and this has not been easy for you: I have seen your discomfort amongst my warriors, your doubts at your place at my side, your longing for your homeland.

“But you are also strong. You are stubborn, and you are determined, and willing to work hard at this, at us, and this… this is something we will do together. We will lead each other, and grow together, and we will speak honestly with one another when things are amiss.”

Martha tucks her head underneath Hippolyta chin, so she can feel the Goddess’ cold collarbones pressing against her skin, and Hippolyta tilts her head just slightly so then her cheek is resting against the top of Martha’s head, and she pulls her a little closer, and it fits, it just fits, they fit, and it’s good, and it’s comfortable, and Martha doesn’t want to be anywhere in the world but right here, just… right here—except, maybe they could move to a soft bed, and they could hold each other even closer, that would also be nice—

“I do have a suggestion, though, little one,” Hippolyta’s voice rumbles against Martha’s fragile human body, and she shivers.

“Uh oh,” she murmurs, but she doesn’t mean it, not really, not half as much as she minds when Hippolyta gently pushes her back a few inches so that she can look her in the eye.

“There is a priestess, an Oracle from the days of the Gods, a healer of the mind. I think it would be beneficial if we spoke with her, both together, but also separately. She is wise in the ways of humans and other sentient beings, and is deeply compassionate; she has helped me and many of my sisters in our healing process, as well as many others in their transition from life to death.”

Martha doesn’t like the idea of telling a stranger all about her private life, but it’s a good one and she knows it.

“Fine, I’ll go see the shrink,” she sighs, but she kisses Hippolyta’s cheek and seizes her hand as she hops off her lap, tugging her away from the desk. “Honestly, I probably should’ve gone a long time ago.”

“Why didn’t you?” Hippolyta asks curiously, without a single shred of judgement in her voice, but Martha just tugs harder at her hand.

“We can discuss that with the marriage counselor, Queen Hippolyta,” she says, practically dragging her down the hall toward their bedroom now. “There are other things we can do now to strengthen our future marriage...”

#Marlyta #The Sun and the Moon #fanfic #deleted scene #This is 2.5k #Anyway I think this probably should've still been in the story but it just would've dragged #This was before you guys made me write three (3) chapters of goddess smut and I decided I didn't care about pacing haha #anyway merry christmas and stuff #also there's a lot of monologuing in here #let me know if you want me to post it somewhere on ao3 #I don't really have a ready place to drop oneshots like this but I guess I can make one

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