#there's always been a powerful mutual trust between these two before he was taken and Nezu only wants to help | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

h0tchner · 3 years

Text

Something More (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Written as a request for the loml, Abby! (@heliotropehotch!) "Could I have a hotch x reader request thats got a love confession- maybe a hurt comfort scene where the reader is maybe torn up about something like self deprecation or some cop makes an off-handed compliment and he cups her cheeks and wipes the tears away? Pretty please 🥺"

word count: 3.2k

includes: love confessions! hurt/comfort, protective!hotch, mutual pining!!!, kissing, a little teaser of sexytimes, work tension, BAU!reader, crying and other emotions, rude af deputies, fluff soooo much fluff

rating: 18+ (cursing, crude nicknames, suggestive sexual mentions, and brief explicit sexual content at the very end)

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! I hope you love this one! If you want a smutty part two, let me know. PLS (!!!!!) interact if you liked this fic; rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

some pals tags: @arsonhotchner @laurensprentiss @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie

“It’s time to give the profile,” Hotch announces.

Six words. One sentence. Zero hesitation.

“Go and gather everybody in the bullpen,” he directs Spencer, who nods and quietly exits the conference room to collect your team and the rest of the Sherrif’s department of this small, Wisconsin town.

You stand on the opposite side of the table from your boss, looking at him expectantly. Hotch meets your gaze. His tongue darts out from between his lips as he glares at you from beneath thick lashes. You wait for your instructions, but the instructions don’t come. Rather, you both stand there in a staring contest, unmoving.

You can’t help but feel bare under his scrutiny, but this feeling is nothing new. Every time Hotch looks at you, it feels as if every fibre of your being is on fire. It’s been this way since the very first day you started with the BAU, and, over time, the flame has only burned brighter.

You and Hotch have grown close over the two years you’ve been with the team: closer than he’s been with any of his other agents, even Rossi. It all started with one long night spent together in his office, sharing cold Chinese food, scribbling away at mountains of paperwork. It was then, sitting across the desk from him, laughing at his incredulous reaction when he dropped some Lo Mein on an After-Action Report, that you knew: you were in deep. From then on, your Chinese food office “dates” became a regular occurrence. And then, those regular occurrences transformed into other regular occurrences; to name a few: rides on the jet, side by side, sharing soft glances and tired smiles after hard cases… holding hands to comfort each other when emotionally vulnerable… and even bringing you your favourite coffee on mornings that you’ve needed an extra boost. All these little moments of kindness and care are what made you fall in love with him. You would cross the line from coworkers to more in a heartbeat if you knew for certain that he felt the same way about you. But you refuse to take a risk on losing what you currently have with Hotch for the chance at something more.

The way that Hotch looks at you now, tall and commanding, feels very much like something more… it’s incredibly intimate. He’s effectively stripped away all the layers of protection you’ve built up to do your job with one pointed glance. What you don’t know is that he too feeling the same way, and is toeing a line between being your boss, being your friend, and being your “something more.”

Hotch breathes out hard through his nose. You watch as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he does. His jaw ticks. He shifts on his feet.

“I want you to sit this one out,” he says.

“Hotch?” You question, puzzled. Nothing about this day has prepared you for him to say that. You start racking your brain, trying to figure out why he would give you such a ridiculous order. Did you piss him off somehow? Did you play-flirt with Morgan too much in the car? Overlook an important lead? Did he not like the coffee you made him this morning?

Looking over at him, you swear he almost looks conflicted… but it doesn’t last.

“This is not up for debate. Do you understand me? You’re sitting this one out.” He repeats, steadfast.

“I don’t understand, what did I do wrong?” You ask more defensively this time, wishing he would give you more information. Something, anything besides the “SSA Aaron Hotchner” routine he was pulling on you now.

“I never said you did anything wrong.” Hotch moves forward a step, finally breaking eye contact, opting to gather files and loose papers into his arms.

“So, then what it is?” You cross your arms, stepping forwards as well, challenging him with your posture.

He doesn’t respond, nor does he look at you. Instead, he lumps more files into his arms before rounding the table, moving swiftly toward the door.

You have never, ever disobeyed one of his orders because his orders have always made sense… until now.

“Hotch,” you say sternly, your stubborn feet moving to stand between him and the exit before your logical brain can stop you.

He’s practically up against you, cornering you between his solid body and the old wooden door. His height dominates your shorter frame, and the heat coming off his body is positively criminal. Your heart flutters in your chest as he stares you down, calculating his next move.

“Out of my way, Agent Y/L/N.” He breathes out, tensing his jaw.

“Fine,” you stutter, “just tell me why and then I’ll let you go.” Your confidence wavers as you’re a little taken aback by his official use of your title and last name.

You’re hurt, confused… and he knows this. No matter how hard you’re putting on your tough-girl FBI face, Hotch can see right through it. He knows this order is unjustified, but he has his own reasons: reasons that he can’t get into. Not now.

Hotch lets his eyes dart to the side, past your head, not daring to look you in the eyes. He wills himself to be gentle.

“I can’t tell you, but I need you to trust me. Sit this one out.” He verbalizes, looking at you a little softer now. His face relaxes a little more into the Hotchner you’ve come to know: the one who calls his son every night to read a bedtime story, the one who grins every time you beat him in chess.

You two stand there a moment longer, your heart racing from the heat of the quarrel and your current proximity to your Unit Chief.

Hotch opens his mouth to say something else, but a knock on the door behind you stops him in his tracks. You step aside and he whips open the door; a very apologetic Spencer stands behind it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Spencer says, clearing his throat awkwardly, “but everyone is ready in the bullpen.”

“Thank you,” Hotch nods, stepping forward to leave, but you grab a hold of his arm.

“Hotch,” you begin, not entirely sure what you want to say.

“Later,” he answers, finishing the unspoken thought.

With that, he’s out the door and you’re left alone with only stale coffee and a bunch of disorganized files to keep you company.

You close the door behind them with a sigh, letting yourself rest against it again, closing your eyes for a moment in defeat. Three days on this case. Three days of hard work, interviews, and research just to get benched in the end zone. You wish that you didn’t love Hotch, because maybe if you didn’t, it would be easier to disobey him. Opening your eyes again, you scan the quiet room. Then, something in front of you catches your eye and you get an idea.

On the table rests one of the precinct’s phones. It is all too easy to use the conference feature to listen in on one of the other phone lines: specifically, one in the bullpen.

You grin and rush over to the device, feeling a little bit sheepish for not listening to Hotch, but you push the buttons anyway, and bring the receiver up to your ear.

At first, all you hear is the shuffling of papers and muffled voices. You take a seat, leaning back in your chair like the cat who caught the canary. Several more moments pass of bureaucratic white noise, but then, someone speaks.

“Where’s the slutty one?” A male voice whispers.

“Oh, Agent Y/N? Probably on her knees somewhere waiting for her boss to come back.” A second male voice snickers back, matching the volume of the first.

You gasp, the phone slipping out of your hand, landing on the table with a loud thunk.

Scrambling, you grab it again, your other hand coming to rest over your open mouth.

“Don’t know why he wouldn’t let us use her as bait. This whole case could’ve been wrapped up and done by now if we just stuck her in a skimpy dress and shoved her out on the street.” One of them muses.

“Obviously because he’s sleeping with her.” The other mutters. “Agent Hotchner looked like he was going to take your head off when you asked him about it. Thought he was going to deck you for suggesting disguising her as a hooker to lure this guy out.”

“Yeah, he did. She looks like the victims, though. Bet she’s a whore like them too.”

“Deputies, we’re starting.” You hear a third voice pipe up. This time it’s one you recognize: it’s Hotch. “This is your final warning. I don’t want to hear another word out of you for the rest of the day. Not only is this wildly inappropriate, but it is insulting and vile. If I hear either of you speak about, look at, or interact with Agent Y/N, I will make sure you are both charged with harassment and fired from this department. Is that clear?”

With that, your eyes nearly pop out of your head. The deputies mumble something back, but you can’t hear over the sound of papers rustling.

Stunned, you set the phone back in its holder and force air into your lungs.

Waves of thoughts come crashing down on you. You have so many questions and so many answers and it’s all just… too much.

Suddenly, you know that you need to be anywhere but here.

You stand, shoving the chair aside and burst out of the conference room, fuming. You power-walk down the hall, and past the bullpen, focused on getting yourself outside and into the fresh air. Understandably, you don’t look up as you pass the profile briefing, so you don’t see Hotch’s brow furrow at the sight of you. You also don’t see him hand his papers to JJ, excuse himself, and race to follow you out the front door.

Once you’re outside in the parking lot, you look up at the cloudy, grey sky, and the tears start to fall. You feel guilty and angry; part of you wants to run away and cry, but the other part of you wants to walk straight up to those men and kick them straight in the dick. They not only called you vile names, but they also called the victims – those poor, dead women – the same. You sniffle, thinking about how Hotch stepped in and protected you, stood up for you.

Hotch… the thought of him makes you cry a little harder.

You start to pace around, kicking gravel as you went.

Were you that obvious? Was your crush so rampant that two low-level deputies in the middle of nowheresville picked up that easily on how you really felt about your boss?

“Fuck you two,” you curse under your breath to nobody as you choke back sobs. You kick a large piece of gravel as hard and as far as you can, but it doesn’t help.

“Are you okay?” A voice prods from behind you, gently, hesitantly, as if not to spook you. It’s a curt baritone, laced with concern. It’s Hotch.

“Hotch,” you breathe, turning to face him, furiously wiping tears away from your eyes.

“What happened?” He frowns, stepping closer to you, a comforting hand reaching forward to take yours.

Any other day you would grasp it contently, letting him console you. Today? All you can hear are the deputy’s comments. Sleeping with her. Whore. On her knees. You’re embarrassed and ashamed, so, you involuntarily step back.

“It’s nothing,” you put your hands up, looking down at your feet.

“Y/N,” Hotch says, his heart pounding in his chest.

You look back up, locking on his beautiful, angular face. You see every feature clouded in a haze of sorrow and concern.

You know you must swallow your pain and try to get it out. He wasn’t about to let you off easy.

“You… they… I…” you begin, but never finish your sentence. Instead, you start to cry again.

Wordlessly, Hotch moves to cup your face in his hands. They’re large and slightly calloused, encasing your cheeks as his thumbs gently swipe away the tears. His soft eyes search your watery ones; despite your better instinct, you bring your hands up to rest on his chest. You feel his breathing hitch. One of his hands moves from your face to cover your smaller hand against his chest. The two of you stay there, just like that, for another handful of heartbeats. You focus on his hands and how warm and safe they make you feel. Soon enough, you stop crying and gather the courage to speak.

“I heard them.” You whisper, not trusting yourself to say another word. You know that Hotch knows exactly who “them” is, and exactly what it is that you’ve heard.

His brow creases and his hand grips yours tighter. He cleans another tear off your cheek, and then lets that hand down to ball in a fist at his side.

“I’m going to kill them.” Hotch states, furious and heartbroken.

“Me first.” You sniffle.

Your boss sighs, giving you a heartfelt look. Leave it to you to make a joke at a time like this.

“I told them this morning that if I ever heard them say another thing about you, I was going to have their badges. I should’ve kicked them off this case hours ago.” He huffs, closing his eyes, letting his other hand, the one that was covering yours, drop down to his side.

You know this look all too well. You know he’s blaming himself.

“It’s not your fault,” you offer, smoothing your hands over his chest to settle on his upper arms. “Hotch, look at me.”

He doesn’t at first, but eventually, he opens his eyes. His hands open and close at his sides, as if he’s fighting them to be still.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes out. “For everything. For handling this how I did.”

“I’m not.” You chime in, feeling braver, calmer now that you’re here with him. Your comment earns a quizzical glance and a slight head tilt from Hotch, urging you to go on. “You stood up for me. You honoured me. You respected me. You protected me. You –“

With a fierce momentum, your next sentence is swallowed by Hotch’s lips pressing into yours. His hands come up to rest on your hips, and then circle around your waist to pull you closer. He’s warm and soft and intense; you whimper into the kiss, moving your hands to rest on the back of his neck and card in his hair. The kiss is over far too soon for your liking, both of you needing to pull back and inhale.

Hotch looks at you with heavy eyes, hands gripping your hips. He smells like coffee and pine, with a hint of something spicier. Everything about him is overwhelming yet grounding.

“Finally,” you whisper, hands clasped around his neck. “It’s about damn time.”

“It is,” is all he musters, still dazed by the audacity of his own actions.

“Aaron?” You lick your lips, feeling his hands squeeze you tight at your use of his first name.

“Yeah?” He can’t help but start to smile, showing off his adorable dimples and crinkled lines around his eyes.

“I love you; do you know that?” You say in earnest.

Aaron giggles, giggles at your confession, and then attacks your lips again, making you yelp at the surprise. His lips detach from yours only to pepper kisses on your tear-stained cheeks, jaw, and forehead.

“I love you too,” he breathes out, giddier than you’ve ever seen him. He looks like a kid in a candy shop, and it makes your heart leap into your throat.

Just then, a car beeps on the road, startling you two. You’re suddenly reminded where you are, and why you’re here. The thought of having to go back inside makes you groan, and you bury your head into his chest for a moment. He hums into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

Reluctantly, you pull yourself off his chest to look up at him.

“Forget about them,” you say, “go finish giving the profile so we can close this case and get the hell out of this town so you can take me home and show me how much you love me.” You smile at him, pulling him in for another, lighter kiss.

He grins against your lips, meeting you for another smooch.

“Yes ma’am,” Hotch replies, giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose.

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

Three months later, you and Aaron are coming down from your highs, sweaty and blissed-out after an amazing lovemaking session. After the team wrapped up the case and made it back to Virginia in one piece, you and Hotch went out to dinner the next night. He took you to dine in at the Chinese restaurant that you both usually ordered from on those nights you both spent pining and yearning in his office. It was… perfect. He was perfect. Just as your friendship had blossomed, so did your relationship. One date led to another, one gesture turned into more, and you and Aaron settled into life as a couple with ease. You hadn’t brought up the incident with the deputies since it had happened the afternoon that Hotch had followed you out to the parking lot to wipe away your tears.

Now, as you lay in his arms, wrapped in his strong, loving, embrace, your mind wanders back to their words. However, you don’t feel animosity toward them, rather it makes you giggle.

“What’s so funny hot stuff?” Aaron cracks open an eye and smiles down at you. One arm is tucked underneath his head, and the other is tracing patterns on the bare skin of your shoulder.

“Oh, just that case we had in Wisconsin a few months back.” You nuzzle deeper into his chest with another laugh.

Hotch frowns, recalling the memory, thinking about the way those awful men spoke about you.

“How is that funny?” He asks, hesitantly.

“They called me a whore.” You say nonchalantly, peering innocently into his amber eyes. You bring your palm up to swipe across his cheek softly, feeling the light stubble of his jaw underneath your fingertips.

Both of his eyes are open now, and his hand motions cease their patterns on your skin. He’s confused, and the face he’s giving you is downright adorable. It makes you giggle again.

You detach yourself from his grasp and sit yourself up, carefully shimmying down the bed. Aaron’s eyes never leave you.

You nestle yourself between his legs and look up at him with a smirk.

“They were partially right.” You offer, studying the small changes in his face, watching as his eyes glaze over with lust for the second time that night.

“I am a whore.” You pout suggestively and flutter your eyelashes. “A whore for you, Hotch.”

He shakes his head at you in amusement and chuckles, but it quickly turns into a deep, throaty moan as you wrap your lips around the tip of him.

As you start to bob your head on his already hardening length, you think to yourself: as much as I hate to say it... someone should really give those two deputies a raise.

#aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotch hotchner #criminal minds fandom #my fics #rb!!!!!! ily!!!!!!!!!#ivyheliotrope #abby!#aaron hotch

713 notes · View notes

nana-dear · 2 years

Text

royal reader headcanons

synopsis — The King and Queen of a vast kingdom died in an unfortunate accident. Leaving their firstborn as the sole ruler… But they are so young and inexperienced, the perfect candidate for someone to secure the throne quickly. However, feelings may get in the way of the plan.

characters — Riddle Rosehearts & Leona Kingscholar

note — Sort of noble au

another note — Not me publishing something and disappearing an entire month. I swear I'm not obsessed with Leona and Riddle, it's just the ones that gave me more inspiration. I'll be writing for more characters ˚ᆺ˚)

He is from a noble family that’s been loyal to the actual government for generations. However, the Roseheart’s are still considered to be below other aristocrats, and the crown refuses to give them more important positions.

But your kingdom has a lot of territory and riches. Maybe it’s time for the noblemen to prove themselves and bring the crown new subjects.

Miss Roseheart is convinced her son is the best contender. Although young, he is way wiser than those old men from the court. She establishes her expectations from the moment she is setting a carriage to your kingdom.

Taking advantage of a grieving person is certainly cruel. But you must know by now, don’t you? Life isn’t fair for people like you.

Without the monarchs, everyone with a certain amount of power is trying to get rid of you. So Riddle truthfully believes you sort of understand his reasons and doesn’t feel guilty.

Riddle stands out from the rest of fortune hunters who try to swift you away with sweet talk and empty promises. But it would be a lie to say you weren’t startled the first time you spoke with the redhead.

“I’m interested in this kingdom,” he said, “if you allow me, I would like to give some advice.”

He was straightforward with his intentions (or that’s what you thought). Other people disguised themselves as a shoulder to cry in, but Riddle shared his goals without sugar coating.

Of course, he was seeking his own interests, but he understood he needed to get your trust before convincing you to give away your position.

He is so knowledgeable about your kingdom's culture, it’s history, and the inner-functioning of the palace (this man doesn’t go unprepared). So he serves as an excellent non-official advisor.

You soon provided him a seat in the court, and his comments are always taken into account.

Before a big decision, you always go to him.

And during meetings, if someone tries to twist your words or push you into self-interested decisions, he exposes them immediately.

To put it in different words: he has utmost control. Everything that’s discussed privately ends up in a letter to his superiors.

Enemies just grow against him, but everyone knows your liking for him. The ones that were bold enough to make accusations against him are now on a black list.

Riddle was so sure it was a sort of mutual agreement between you two. Understanding that you both needed something from the other. That’s why he gets so confused when you start being vulnerable around him.

He knows all the rumours about you. The pitiful heir who can’t stand their ground. A weak child without the character to lead a nation. “There’s no way a royal can’t handle something like this”, he used to believe.

But you didn’t calculate each word exchanged with the others, nor had cards up your sleeve. You were a genuinely scared child who understood was entangled in a sea of ill-intended people, but didn’t know how to protect themselves.

You cried a lot in front of Riddle, most of the time not intending to.

Sometimes you drag him out of the palace to meet all of your favorite places. And when you notice him getting stressed about something, you make sure to sit with him to drink tea. The way you started referring to him as a friend didn’t go unnoticed.

The guilt is eating him alive. He can’t even sleep at night because his only dreams are about you finding out everything.

But his mother’s letters keep coming. He can’t just abandon everything.

He wonders if he should be honest. You are so caring after all. And then what? He leaves as if he hadn’t put you and your people in danger?

The officials of his kingdom are getting impatient. A war is about to explode soon.

Riddle knows that even if you give your position without a fight, foreign leaders won’t hesitate to murder you. You’ll have to disappear.

One day he enters your chamber unannounced, with a gloomy look on his face.

He tells you to not worry from now on, because he’ll take care of you. You know there’s something he isn’t mentioning, but you do not dare to ask. And whatever he is hiding, you trust him. He would never try to hurt you...

This is his best chance to become king, and he won’t ignore it.

After the death of your parents, the economic situation has gone downhill. Everyone is pushing the next in line to leave their position. Citizens believe someone with better experience should be on the throne.

Great part of the previous fortune was lost because of your poor decisions.

Other nations won’t get involved because the kingdom is far away in the sea. A large island that takes at least six months to get on a ship. It’s not worth the resources.

Leona trusts quite a lot in his own abilities. Once you two get married, he’ll stabilize the kingdom.

And since he comes from one of the most prestigious families, the public opinion is that he is the best way for you to redeem your chaotic mandate.

Your advisors, however, don’t share that idea.

It’s going to be more difficult than he expected. You are supervised all the time, and everyone in the royal court won’t stop telling you to kick him out of the palace.

Well, he certainly isn’t leaving without a fight.

One day, you are drawn out of the castle to the main plaza by a lot of noise.

The citizens are reunited, Leona in the center, and everyone has this fascinated look on their face.

He’s amazing the crowd with the stories of his journeys around the world. Answers every question with special patience and even has items to prove his tales.

That fang he carries around his neck? A treasure from his homeland, from the ancient beasts they used to fight against. Each of his bracelets are a present from different aristocrats around the world. Have you heard about the Valley of Thorns? The prince sent him one. Oh, his scar? He can’t tell that story with the children here…

He also shows his skill with magic. He promises to teach it to those who are interested. Why don’t you have a magic school here, anyway?

Your royal sentinels immediately bring you back to the castle when all the gazes turn to you.

During the next days, Leona is the nation’s hot topic. He is so knowledgeable and so humanitarian. People stop him in the streets to shake his hand and ask questions about his magnificent kingdom.

The court may not approve of him, but he has gained the full support of the people.

But that’s not enough. He has to shift the impression you have of him if he truly wants to secure the throne.

And since he can’t get close when you are out of your room, he’ll just have to get in your room.

You were preparing to get into bed when a crash distracted you. There he was, sitting on the balcony as if he was your guest.

“What a coincidence to find you here, don’t you think?” he said before walking into the room and taking a seat.

Both of you looked at each other, Leona with a subtle smirk and you with absolute shock… You are on the sixth floor. How in the world did he just climb?

“Are they true?” you finally broke the silence, “all the things you say about your trips.”

“I have certainly traveled to the places I have claimed to be in.”

Consumed by curiosity, you started asking more questions about the outside world. He told you about magnificent landscapes you had only seen in paints, about his kingdom, and the incredible fairy tales each culture had.

He couldn’t help but laugh at the faces of your companions every time he crossed paths with you and you cheerfully invited him to join. (Which, of course, he always accepted.)

He kept making jokes during the tea parties and while everyone gave him a disapproving look, you always laughed.

Each night he would come into your chambers to narrate you a new adventure.

But things couldn’t be so easy. Unknown to him, a nobleman had left the land soon after he arrived. Six months later, he returned to the island with unpleasant news.

You are dining when your loyal servant appears with a mischievous grin. He sits at your side and starts talking unabashed about everything he learned during his trips.

Even after you ask him to stop, he continues speaking about the second prince and how everyone in his kingdom deems him as a lost cause.

Of course Leona punches him.

Everyone is so distracted trying to get him off the poor man that your absence remains unnoticed.

When things cool down, Leona realizes that what most bothers him is that you now know. He is not worried about the snarky comments of the court; he is worried you’ll never forgive him.

He goes to look for you, but the moment he finds you, he feels so nervous. Is he supposed to apologize? What he should say-

“All of you think I’m an idiot,” your voice interrupts his thoughts. “I know everyone plots against me in my court. My advisor constantly tries to make me do or say stupid things. Since the moment you arrived, I always knew your intentions! But at least, I figured out that if I had to marry someone to save my situation, it would be someone trustworthy... ”

It’s never been easy for him to console a crying person.

“Fire them,” he says when your sobbing quiets a little, “and expose all the shady movements they have done. Everyone is going to try to save themselves by outing the other ones. Your are not dumb, but they know you are not strong enough to do something about everything they do to you. You need to show them you can and will defend yourself.”

That’s the last piece of advice you heard from him before he left. Next day you didn’t have the chance to say goodbye before someone told you he had already taken a ship to his homeland.

During the next year, news of your kingdom keeps arriving. Everyone was surprised at the sudden rearrangement of your government. Soon, the previous court got replaced. Your nation became a self-providing one rather than desperately looking for commerce with foreigners.

Leona is astonished when an invitation arrives for a ball that you are organizing in order to celebrate the success of your kingdom. And everyone is pleased knowing that since you started investing resources in magic investigation, the trip to the island is now way easier.

Each nation sent at least a representative. And everyone is so excited to share words with the young ruler.

He ended up going because he really wanted to see you. But once there, he couldn’t find the way to approach you. Is honestly such a weird event to see him this awkward.

You are the one who invited him to dance.

While the music goes, you keep talking about trivial stuff. But both of you are obviously happy to talk again.

“Thanks, for the advice,” you end up saying while resting your head on his shoulder.

#twst leona #twst riddle #twisted wonderland #headcanon #twst #twst yuu #twst headcanons #leona kingscholar #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #leona x reader

194 notes · View notes

whirlybirbs · 3 years

Text

( this chapter’s gif by @ransomflanagan from this beautiful set ! )

✪ — VACANT MIRRORS ; B.B. | 5/?

summary: your plan goes to asbolute shit.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 9k, please pray for my fingers

a/n: there’s action, there’s gunshot wounds, there’s canon appropriate violence! this one has a lot of plot, a lot of action, and i truly want to sleep for seven days after writing this. you should listen to the glass cannon’s club playlist while you read, though, for vibez.

( PREVIOUSLY | AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT )

You do have a plan.

Maybe it’s a little vague, a little messy, and a little up-in-the-air, but it’s a plan.

Get in, find Kiwi, avoid a handful of unsavory characters, and access the Alexandria Library.

Getting the hell out The Glass Cannon once you and Bucky were in was going to be a whole different plan entirely — one that was more improv than anything else. Hopefully, running a quick facial recognition program wouldn’t take long. With any luck, it would get a hit on any more recent aliases Innessa Sidrova was using after parsing the motherload of information Kiwi held onto with her life.

Kiwi wasn’t always known as Kiwi. She worked at SHIELD, like you, and back then she was known as Suji Awal. She stuck around longer — and she’d stayed on board during the active collapse to do heaven-sent work. It was an absolute Hail Mary, but while HYDRA had tried to purge all of SHIELD’s cloud data to protect their active agents and decades of progress, Suji had beat the hare in the race. Two steps ahead, she’d managed to pull nearly 97% of all confidential data including mission reports, agent profiles, and even electronic correspondence. While the metaphorical fire burned the documents behind her, she’d managed to salvage one of the only surviving, comprehensive looks at SHIELD before the curtain was pulled back to reveal HYDRA’s infection.

It had been used to try multiple HYDRA agents in the wake of it all in the federal courts. It was significant evidence, but after nearly all was reaped from the crop, Suji had taken the aptly named Alexandria Library and gone underground. Now, Kiwi was just another hacker in the thick of it and the Alexandria files were all but whispers.

It’s all about knowing the right people in the end.

Kiwi was a regular at The Glass Cannon. There was a nine out of ten chance you’d find her there. And if you didn’t find Kiwi, you’d probably find Climber and… Well, going to him wasn’t the most ideal situation, but out of the menagerie of acquaintances you’d gathered up throughout the years, you could trust Climber. He’d send you Kiwi’s way if you finally called in that favor he owed you. Either way, you’d find her and you’d get the files.

You just needed to avoid Alexei Gardzov.

Easy. Ish.

In truth, you barely get anything done Thursday — you’re too preoccupied in your head, running over the so-called plan even now as you fold laundry in the basement of your apartment complex.

You’d dug around in your closet, trying to find some semblance of an outfit. It was difficult. It wasn’t like the barely-there dresses and platform shoes were your thing anymore. Back then, your diet was mostly energy drinks and alcohol — in a way, it’s a relief to find that a good number of your staple outfits no longer fit. It made you feel like you really had put all this behind you.

You have.

Sure, it was the Rabbit you were going to have to be for tonight, but you’re not the Rabbit you were eight years ago. Good thing, too. You’re not too sure you and Bucky would have gotten along otherwise. Right now, your relationship with him was the biggest thing keeping you afloat — for the first time in a long time, you feel like you have some sort of purpose, even if it was a vague one at best.

You knew Innessa Sidrova was a threat — and you knew Bucky had to remedy that threat. You knew he felt responsible for creating her, for planting her in a position of power where she could manipulate and control. In truth, there was still a lot of vagueness surrounding his past. He’d made it clear he hasn’t been himself for a long time, but you couldn’t bring yourself to wade through the muck of his trauma to pluck out your answers. It just felt wrong.

If you were to say you hadn’t been tempted to go out on your own and dig, that’d be a lie.

Even now, as you pull out the ink-black top from the dryer and fold it neatly on top of the other pieces of laundry needed for tonight, you can feel it sparking like a lighter in the back of your head.

He was keeping something from you.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

You nearly jump six feet in the air.

It’s Miss Bonnie — and she’s laughing when her feet touch the cold concrete of the unfinished floor. Her basket of laundry is balanced neatly on her hip, and she walks with a smirk on her face. Her hair is piled neatly on top of her head, and as she bends to plop the basket down, she offers a wink.

“I could hear you thinking from upstairs,” she ruminates, paisley and dyed skirts kissing the ground, “Like a little steam engine.”

You laugh quietly into your task. You duck your head and heft a black bra and jeans from the dryer. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

She looks up, eyes moving carefully from the laundry pile to your face. Her eyes glimmer with quiet curiosity. “And a big night planned, huh?”

You snort. “What was the giveaway?”

“It’s always the lacey bras,” she chirps and slides a smirk your way as she waggles a finger at your pile, “And the strappy little bodysuit was a good hint, too.”

You exhale with a laugh, bracing a hand against the dryer. She’s not wrong — you’d really forgone comfort with this outfit lineup. It was temporary, though, and well worth the efforts if it meant helping Bucky tick off a name from his list of amends. You knew how much those meant to him.

“So,” she continues, voice muddled as she continues to load the washer, “I take it this friend of yours is really helping you out of your shell?”

“I guess so. Yeah. It’s — It’s sort of a mutual shell-cracking, I guess.”

“Mm,” a hum, “You sound troubled, though.”

Your mouth opens as your fingers trace the line of the bodysuit. You pause, and you rock back on your heels. Miss Bonnie notices.

She waits patiently, bent at the knees.

“You ever just…” you wave your hand, “Feel like — I don’t know. He’s my friend. My best friend, honestly, and that’s… Really saying a lot. But, there’s stuff under the surface and I know it’s not my business but…”

Out comes a strangled groan.

“What? Like a crazy ex-girlfriend?”

“No, no — I don’t think so,” you mutter, “Wouldn’t surprise me, though.”

“Handsome?” she asks, smiling.

You close your eyes and ignore the smile on your face as you reply. “Yea, handsome.”

“Well, have you tried asking?” she shrugs as she stands, “Not about the crazy ex, but about the stuff you’re worried about? It never hurts.”

“Problem is, I don’t really think it’s too much of my business.”

Miss Bonnie hums at that and presses the start on her washer. She’s quiet for a bit, swaying slightly as she weighs the conversation and you watch — enamored with the older woman’s calm wisdom. She gestures openly with ringed hands.

“I think it’s normal for us to want to know everything about those we care about,” she says, “We want to know how we can protect them, how we can comfort them. But… it comes in due time. All of it does. You’ll find a time when he does open up about the ex, or whatever it is on his mind. You’re friends, after all.”

You’re nodding, chest tight with thanks.

Miss Bonnie’s face is soft.

“You got a picture?” she chirps like a bird looking for a worm, “I wanna see who this little friend is. And if he really is as handsome as you’re suggesting...”

You scoff and lean to dig out your phone.

“Cut it out,” you mumble as she moves closer, “No playing matchmaker.”

“Sure, sure,” she waves, leaning to watch as you scroll through your camera roll.

The only photo you have of Bucky is there from Tuesday night — after he’d housed nearly an entire container of noodles and promptly passed out during the third Lord of the Rings movie. You’d woken up around one in the morning to find that Poke had unceremoniously curled up on top of the supersoldier’s chest. Bucky’s hand was still in the calico’s fur as he dozed, the colors of the TV painting his face all sorts of peaceful. You’d taken the photo, shoving it in his face after gently nudging him awake.

He’s laughed.

You gesture to show Miss Bonnie.

Like ice, she freezes.

You notice a microexpression dart across her face, but it’s gone in an instant. You can’t pin it, but the way she bends to pull the phone closer and zoom in on her face comes off as interest. You blink, label it as shock, and move on.

Her voice sounds different.

“Handsome,” she mumbles plainly, preoccupied with the sight, “I get it now. What’s his name?”

“Bucky,” you say as she hands the phone back, “He’s… He’s a good person.”

Miss Bonnie just nods.

You tuck your phone away and plop your laundry into your basket. Ignoring the sudden quiet that had crept between you both, you haul up the stack and offer her a gentle smile. She’s fiddling with the washer’s timer.

“Thank you, Miss Bonnie.”

“Of course,” she rushes out, smiling gently, “And be safe tonight.”

“I will.”

With your promise, you ascend the stairs.

In that basement, Bonnie McLayne is no more, and instead, Innessa Sidrova remembers that night in Moscow, back in 1975.

She remembers the Winter Soldier.

◦ ◦ ◦ ◦

Bucky calls you three times with no answer.

Normally, he’d just give up — but it was Thursday, and you weren’t answering the buzzer to your apartment either. He tries his best to ignore the strike of panic that sparks in his chest. It could stoke a wildfire, really, but he pushes it down and remembers to breathe. He doesn’t let himself think about what he’d do if something happened to you.

After all, you’re probably fine. Sleeping, maybe. The both of you had a long night ahead.

(Longer than either of you realize, really.)

It’s nearly seven o’clock, and after trying your cell one more time from his perch on your apartment’s stoop, Bucky decides to say fuck it.

A well-adjusted person might frown upon what he was about to do, but Bucky wasn’t exactly well-adjusted, now was he?

He rounds the back alley with long strides and easily finds that, with a little maneuvering, he can hoist himself upwards on top of the nearest dumpster. With a well-timed hop, he can also snag the bottom of the fire escape’s ladder and haul it downwards. The rest is easy, and he’s scaling the fire escape to the third floor with ease before he even knows it.

There’s even a smug little smirk on his face the whole time he does.

Finding your window is a little harder, but Bucky eventually spots Poke’s round little body smushed against the glass — it’s a dead giveaway, and after some prowling, he finds the window to your living room and unceremoniously throws it open.

It’s unlocked, for whatever reason, and he makes a mental note to have a conversation with you about safety and security in the city. After all, you never knew when an ex-assassin supersoldier was going to break in and pet your cat.

Upon opening the window, he pieces together pretty quickly why you’re not answering. Could be the music coming from your bedroom, or even the singing that’s coupled alongside it. From the bathroom across the hall from your room, steam has settled above on the ceiling. The whole apartment smells like fruit and soap and perfume and Bucky’s not really sure how to parse through all the sensory experiences that greet him with he shimmies in through the window, legs first.

All in all, they make him smile.

Bucky shuts the window behind him as he’s quickly greeted by Poke — the calico offers a gratuitous little chirp when Bucky bends to scoop up the cat. Easily, he melts. Poke is purring loudly in his ear as Bucky takes a moment to survey your apartment a little bit closer. Mr. Poke Bowl rubs his face against Bucky’s stubble as the man weaves through the kitchen.

It’s very you.

He isn’t really sure what that means at the end of the day, but all he knows is that he feels at home here. He feels safe. He feels comfortable. He feels like he can be himself. Not James, not Sergeant Barnes, not The Winter Soldier. Not even Steve’s Bucky, but just… his Bucky. Himself. Sarcastic and exhausted and a little cynical.

Bucky lets Poke down on the counter and moves to the fridge.

There’s still beer from the other night in there, tucked in the back, so he makes easy work on popping open a bottle and busying himself with petting a very adamant Poke.

As he sips the Leinenkugel, it’s no small coincidence that his phone buzzes again — for what feels like the hundredth time today — with a message from Janelle.

She was nice — pretty, too. Once upon a time, she would have been his type.

That was before he met you, though.

There’s a little pinprick of mortification at that quiet confession that’s been slipping into his heart more and more in the last few days. You are, after all, his best friend. He’s your best friend. Guilt swims with the feelings that have begun to pluck his heartstrings and he has to admit he’s not too comfortable with the song they play.

His biggest fear is fucking this up.

Fucking you up.

Honestly, his track record isn’t great. The whole defrosted-international-threat bit made it a little difficult to date. Janelle seemed to think the date had gone well enough, though, hence the handful of texts he’d been getting every few hours asking if he’s free.

Like usual, he ignores them.

Exercising his own free will is hard sometimes. Especially when it comes to saying no.

Taking another swig of the beer, Bucky shoves his phone back into his pocket and tucks his fingers back into Poke’s fur. The calico’s tail swings patiently as he sits and watches — and it’s a little weird how human his eyes are for a second there. He mmrrps and lunges for Bucky’s hand when he comes close, bonking his head eagerly against the cool vibranium.

It’s a different sensation.

That’s another big adjustment — learning how things really feel with this new arm. It’s not just handling recoil or gripping knives or throwing punches. It’s the soft tickle of fur, the gentle pressure of a warm rag to clean the joints. Meticulous upkeep wasn’t something HYDRA did often. He doesn’t miss the twinge of pain and molasses-like stickiness that came with a dirty arm. Blood was the worst. Always sat deep in the cracks.

He flexes his fingers. Poke meows again.

He moves to plop down on the couch. Poke follows.

You’re singing, still, to some song that Bucky’s never heard, when you push open your bedroom door and move towards the living room.

You jump six feet in the air and scream when you see him just sitting there, clutching a beer and petting Poke like he fucking lives here rent-free.

Bucky’s reaction is muted, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with your outfit and your jewelry and the pink eye shadow that creeps up your brow-bone. There’s glitter on your eyelids and lip gloss on your mouth and he can smell some sort of candy-sweet perfume coming off you. The plunging neckline of the jet-black top is enough to leave him shifting his gaze back up to your startled expression with a tight jaw.

His face is blank.

Then he offers that stupid fucking smile he does. Y’know, the tight-lipped one where he somehow maintains a dead-eyed look the whole time. If you weren’t trying to calm your racing heartbeat, you might have laughed. You hate the white-hot flare it sparks in your chest.

“How the fuck did you get in here?” you hiss, waving your hands.

“We need to have a serious conversation about locking our windows,” he says as he kicks his feet up on the coffee table and wags a finger at you, “Also, what are you wearing?”

“You — You fucking broke in through my window?”

“Yea, well, you were too busy pretending to be Britney Spears to hear me try and buzz up, and my phone calls.”

Sheepishly, you cross your arms. “Nice reference—”

A shrug from Bucky. “Thank you.”

“—Also, what are you wearing?”

He looks down at his usual t-shirt, leather jacket combo. He squints back up at you.

“I’m sorry,” he chirps, “You’re talking to me? Did the department store run out of fabric, Rabbit?”

You self-consciously adjust the plunging neckline of the bodysuit as you frown deeply. “I think I’m gonna skip on the fashion advice from the man who lived in a time where ankles were seen as scandalous.”

“I was born in 1917,” he mumbles as he stands, actively avoiding another pass over your outfit because as much as he hates to admit it, it’s not a bad look on you, “Not 1817.”

“Point being, we’re going to a club. And you look like you’re going to the local Home Depot,” you move to snag a set of dangly earrings that are sitting on the coffee table, “We’ve gotta look like we’re there to party, nothing more.”

Bucky sighs. He finishes the beer, places the bottle down and sheds his jacket. “So, what?”

You pry your eyes away from the flash of skin — his arm, flesh and blood, speaks to how strong he is. And, undoubtedly how easy it was for him to fucking scale three stories of the fire escape to bust in.

“So,” you mumble as you thread the earring in, “I have some of Jaimie’s old shirts. There’s probably something you can use… If they fit.”

Bucky exhales softly. “You kept them?”

“Didn’t have the heart to throw them out,” you reply as you gesture for him to follow you into your bedroom.

The back of your top is arguably more crisis-inducing than the front — it’s an open back, and Bucky settles on admiring the decor rather than the curve of your spine. He has to. For his own fucking self-composure.

Your bedroom is nice — and like the rest of your space, it makes him feel comfortable. It’s all warm colors and posters and plants in the corners. Across from your queen-sized bed, there’s a large desk with a triple monitor setup. That’s where the music is coming from. The little knick-knacks on your shelves and desk make him chuckle.

Then, he stops, halfway to the closet, and stares.

You blink over your shoulder as you bend, digging to the back of your closet to pull out the clear bin you’d piled most of Jaimie’s stuff into after the funeral. After you’d cleaned out his apartment on your own.

He’s looking at the poster — the one from Cap’s USO tour. It’s framed nicely, set up on the wall beside your desk. It’s got a gold frame, and Bucky can’t help but wander closer to look at the signature.

It’s Steve’s alright.

“How much did you pay for this?”

You scoff. Your necklaces tinker together. “Don’t even go there.”

“The jerk signed thousands of these,” he mumbles, crossing his arms as he leans closer, “And still, the fame didn’t go to his head.”

You smile softly, leaning back.

“Jealous?” you chirp, raising your brows as you pretend to swoon, “Oh, Sergeant Barnes, I’d just love to meet your dear friend—”

Bucky’s laughing as you swat at his knee, leaning back on the carpet like a damsel in distress.

“Shut up,” he snorts, “It’s a sore subject for me.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m serious — do you know how many dates I had to set up for the chump? And then, boom. I’m invisible.”

“Yeah, well,” you mutter with a smile, unclicking the lid, “Some people just like blondes, Buck. I’m sure there were plenty of eyes on you. Stop being so dramatic.”

“Yea, the best friend, sure,” he mumbles at the poster, “Hell, he was taller than me. You know you don’t need to lie to me—”

“Listen, if I was some Lauren Bacall-looking nurse back then,” you wave your hands, “I’d have gone for you. Alright? Stop lamenting and get over here.”

He goes quiet and ignores the warmth in his cheeks. He squats by your side. “Shut up.”

“We seriously need to work on taking compliments,” you groan, throwing your head back, “I’m being serious, y’know, for once. And I’m not just saying it as your friend. You’re handsome and everyone knows it except you, apparently. My neighbor agrees that’s for sure.”

He squints.

You wave it off and gesture to your outfit. “She saw me doing laundry.”

“That explains nothing,” Bucky deadpans, “Literally nothing.”

“I showed her a picture,” you cry indignantly, moving to shuffle through some of the old t-shirts sitting on top of the bin, “Relax.”

He moves to plop down, crossing his legs beneath him. He decides to let the topic die — again, for his own self-composure more than anything. The compliment, though vehemently denied by the worst part of him, is tucked neatly in the homes of his heart. The idea of meeting you, before now, is a little intoxicating. What would it have been like?

Would you have even spared him a dance?

Bucky rubs his cheek. Poke meows and buts the door open with his head.

You’re wrist-deep in the bin when you speak. “He’s obsessed with you, y’know.”

Poke has already taken up a post in Bucky’s lap. Bucky smiles, petting Poke gently with his vibranium hand. The cat seems to like the cool metal. Bucky mumbles softly down to the calico, scritching his cheeks. “I like him, too.”

You pause long enough to try and remember the sight.

Bucky’s eyes find yours, and you’re quick to turn back to the bin.

“Here we go,” you exhale as you pull out the shirt you’d been looking for.

It’s a long-sleeve button-down, one that you can distinctly remember Jaimie wearing to his engagement party’s after-party — a real typical night of Jaimie being Jaimie. It’s black with a barely-there red floral pattern. It’s flashy enough that Bucky won’t look horribly out of place.

The only problem is Jaimie was a little smaller than Bucky.

“Try this on,” you mumble as you dig around trying to find something else in case it doesn’t do the trick.

Bucky catches the silk shirt and gives it a once over. He raises an eyebrow, and deciding against debating this, he simply nudges Poke off his lap and stands.

He moves to your bed, laying the shirt out. On your closet door is a full-length mirror. You want to snap it in half when you accidentally catch a glimpse of Bucky hauling off his black, cotton t-shirt and anxiously fumbling with the buttons on Jaimie’s old shirt. You have to breathe — and remind yourself that that’s Bucky.

Your Bucky. Your best friend Bucky.

When he calls your name, it sounds far away. You’re busy angrily sorting through old clothes.

“I look ridiculous.”

When you turn around, the first thing you notice is that it’s a little tight. Not in a bad way, but the buttons are gapping along his chest, and it’s tight around his arms.

Your eyes widen a little and you swallow. You tilt your head.

Bucky’s frowning.

“Let me see,” you offer gently, standing and moving close, “It’s not that bad.”

“You don’t sound too sure right now,” he mumbles as you enter his personal space.

You’re nimble with undoing the top three buttons — it gives him enough room to move his shoulders, though, and the dip of the shirt along his sternum brings dog tags into view. You reach, momentarily entranced, and read them to yourself.

You smell like vanilla and sugar.

Bucky shifts in his boots.

“Y’know,” you say, moving to the sleeves, “I think this works.”

You roll the sleeves, stopping at his forearm.

When you step aside, Bucky can see himself in the full-length mirror. He looks less than enthused.

It’s not an entirely bad look — he’ll admit that much — but he doesn’t look like himself. No, there’s too much chest and skin and… Christ, this shirt is tight. He does, though, look like some of those trendy folks he sees at Izzy’s bar every now and again. Hipsters.

“I look like a douchebag.”

“That’s the point,” you chirp as you close the box and shove it back into your closet, “Now the outfit matches the personality.”

He swats at your head on the way by. You laugh.

You’ve got boots in your hand, and you land on the bed with a bounce. Bucky is busy fixing his hair in the mirror while you zip up the thigh-high boots. When he turns around, you’re about three inches taller. He blinks, yet again entranced by the outfit.

Then, you’re muscling on the jacket.

It’s neon pink — and shaggy and cropped. It falls just above your waist and swallows you whole. But, Bucky’s attention is mostly on the back.

There’s a large, white embroidered Playboy bunny there, with RABBIT written across the shoulders in a chunky, blackletter typeface.

His brows are high on his face when you turn around.

You freeze.

“...What?” you ask, “Something on my face?”

“Playboy bunny, huh?”

You could smack him. “Weren’t you busy being a frozen dinner when Playboy came out?”

“I’ll have you know,” he says tightly as he follows you out of your bedroom and to the living room, “The Russians enjoyed their fair share of editions.”

“The Russians? Sure, what’s that saying? There’s no sex in the USSR?” you chide, “You can just say Bucky Barnesenjoyed his fair share—”

The tips of his ears are red. You notice. It makes you split into a grin that worsens the pink shade that’s crawling up his neck.

He coughs. “Have you ever considered never opening your mouth again, Rabbit?”

You nudge his arm. “Nah. Bothering you is more fun.”

He shrugs on his jacket, sighs, and decides that keeping quiet is just easier.

However, that’s not entirely your plan — and you speak quickly as you pull your purse over your shoulder. You’re rummaging quietly, stacking your wallet and phone inside. You glance up at him.

“You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” he mumbles, bending to pat Poke one last time as you move to the door of your bedroom. He watches you flick all the lights off, and before you leave, you double check the calico’s food and water. He’s got enough for a few days. Bucky leans against the door frame, “Care to run me through the plan?”

Nodding, you move to open your front door.

“It’ll be easy,” you explain as you make room for him, “If we play our cards right—”

Bucky’s stopped, though, and is digging in his back pocket as his cell phone rings. You watch him exhale tightly, eyes on the screen the entire time he squeezes by you and starts down the hall. You make careful note of the delicate scowl on his face, only before you catch Miss Bonnie out of the corner of her eye.

Her door is half-cracked across the hall, and she’s watching.

She offers you a smile.

Bucky keeps walking.

You wave, lock your door, and jog to catch up to Bucky.

“Hey,” you call, “Earth to Mr. Claw Machine?”

His head snaps up. “Sorry.”

“Who was that?” you ask carefully, nudging his arm with yours, “Falcon?”

“I wish,” he mutters as he muscles the cellphone back into his pocket, “I wouldn’t feel so bad sending him to voicemail.”

“Yeesh,” you wince, “Lemme guess, was it the owner of the coral lipstick that was all over your face on Tuesday night?”

Again, that temptation to feel jealousy flares up in your heart. But, he’s here, isn’t he? With you. Ignoring her calls. And probably texts judging by the guilty look that’s on his face. You feel a little bad — but at the same time, Bucky’s a grown man. Maybe a grown man who needs to create some more transparent lines of communication with the poor woman, but still.

“Bingo. I mean — it’s not that she wasn’t great an’ all but…”

You raise both hands. “I’m not judging.”

He sighs raggedly as he bounces down the apartment’s stairs. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“What?” you ask with a laugh, “Dating? Yea, it’s pretty fucking terrifying, Buck.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

You hold the door open for him and slide him a pitying look.

“Because I am.”

The walk to The Glass Cannon is spent walking Bucky through the plan — and for the most part, he makes a point of nodding along and listening. His only real anxiety pops up at the mention of Alexei, which is relatable to say the least.

It’s dark, the streets are relatively quiet, and the spring chill has pricked your skin. Your heels click against the pavement, and you stalk along. Shoving your hands in your pockets of the pink, shag jacket, you huff.

You’re starting to feel the anxiety.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re both approaching the blue glow of the storefront.

Computers & Stuff was a family-owned and operated computer shop from the 90s that was taken over by a lesser-known hand of the Russian crime family in New York, the Gardzovs. Alexei’s father is the formal owner of the shop, and his son runs the lucrative activities of the underground club that lay beneath the graphics cards and motherboards.

Bucky, as you both near the entrance, speaks quickly. “Anything else I need to know?”

“Just follow my lead, okay?” you whisper.

The bell above the door dings when you pull open the glass door.

The lighting is sterile and if you’re real quiet, you can hear the dull hum of the fluorescents. The store is empty, save for one man behind the register.

You almost duck out the entrance at the sight of him.

Igor has been a bouncer at The Glass Cannon for as long as you’ve been a patron — and he’s also one of Alexei’s dogs. This part of the plan was something you’d considered only briefly, and for a second, you’re thankful you worried over the million and ten ways this would play out for days.

“Well, if it isn’t the little bunny.”

It’s said with malice. Igor’s tattooed hands land on the counter as he leans.

You, however, hold your head high. Bucky watches as something changes in your posture.

“Good to see you, Igor.”

“Is it?” he growls, stalking around the counter and quickly encroaching on your personal space, “Because I’m pretty sure you’re not welcome here, bunny.”

Bucky gets a good look at the man now — clearly an enforcer. He’s got prison tattoos, a shaved head. The long beard is a weak spot. Doesn’t seem to be armed. Blue eyes flick to you and the way you don’t even flinch when the man leans to breathe right in your face.

You just smile.

“I thought you’d say that,” you mumble, moving to swing your bag to the front and dig your wallet out, “But, I’m not here to cause any trouble.”

Suddenly, there’s a hundred-dollar bill slipping from your well-manicured nails into the vest pocket of the bouncer. There’s a tense pause, then, while the two of you size one another up.

“Fucking your way through college paid off, huh?” he hisses.

You stay quiet.

Bucky, though, moves between you both with a quick shove. Immediately, Igor’s attention goes to Bucky as he sizes him up — he laughs. His nose is nearly touching Bucky’s.

“What’s wrong, pretty boy?”

“You should watch your mouth,” Bucky says evenly, “Or I’ll cut your fucking tongue out.”

You’re careful to hide your expression; the feeling the words stir isn’t one that you’re happy about. This sudden protectiveness, though, makes you feel some sort of invincible.

Igor settles back on his heels.

He steps back.

He gestures to the back room with his head.

You keep walking when he calls out: “Careful, bunny, the dogs are going to be looking for you.”

You grit your teeth tightly and push through the fabric curtain.

He barks, taunting you.

Bucky is by your side in an instant, gaze still rooted over his shoulder at the hulking bouncer. He waits until you’ve settled down until you’ve said his name. His eyes fall to you, then to the stairwell before them.

Above it, in curled neon tubing, reads The Glass Cannon.

The windows are blacked out, but from his spot at the top of the stairs, Bucky can feel the rattle of a deep bass vibrate his ribs.

“Come on. We’re on a time crunch now.”

“Alexei?”

You nod as you lead the way down the stairs. “Word travels fast. We need to be quicker. Stick to the crowds. Remember, we just need to find Kiwi — then we bail.”

Bucky nods tensely.

Then, you open the doors.

Immediately, his eyes adjust to the darkness — neon and strobes and the pulse of purple and pink LEDs make his vision swim. It’s warmer down here, and the stairs leading down into the sub-basement is lined with people sipping drinks and chattering over the loud music. It smells like piss and beer and tobacco.

Again, Bucky watches as the person he knows melts away.

The Rabbit in front of him is different.

You reach, as if on reflex, for his hand.

When you turn around and flash him a smile, he has to swallow down a sudden rise of sheepishness.

The sea of people part around you, and Bucky realizes quickly that people recognize you. He can see their painted lips moving, muttering things into curious ears about the pink-clad woman in front of him; there are smiles there and frowns, and shock. You’re slow in your descent, making a show of the arrival — all while Bucky begins to piece together that The Glass Cannon is larger than he originally suspected.

As they near the bottom of the landing, he can see out across the floor.

There’s a square-shaped catwalk around the dance floor, laden with dancers on their designated poles. Tables line the outside of the cavernous room, and the bars along each wall are crowded — even still, these glimpses of his surroundings come in temporary flashes of light. The music coming from the center of the dancefloor is loud. The entirety of the scene is raucous.

He can’t imagine you finding solace here.

He tightens his grip on your hand. You squeeze back.

When both of you reach the bottom of the stairwell, the sea of people swallow you in a current of dancing and drinking and laughing, and you crawl into Bucky’s personal space to shout in his ear.

You’re still holding his hand tightly, pressed to his chest, as you lean upwards to brush your cheek with his.

“Follow me, okay?”

He nods.

You begin the methodical crawl through the dancefloor, working your way to the bar — there, you pause long enough to be served a drink that’s as pink as the glitter on your eyelids. The flecks dance in the lights, and Bucky graciously accepts a shot from the bartender who smiles sweetly like honey at you.

You bat your lashes, thank her, and stand gracefully from the barstool.

You take a pointed swig and scan the floor.

Kiwi would be in one of the private booths, you suspect — she was enough of a high roller here. But, with the crowded club bursting at the seams, it was nearly impossible to get to the other side. You sway a bit on your feet, still tightly gripping Bucky’s hand in your own. You refuse to let go.

For your sake and his.

Bucky is a silent shadow, eyes roaming the club — he watches a dancer dip down low and snag a green bill from a patron. Someone beside him laughs loud, another bumping into his backside as you continue to weave to the outer rim of the room. The music is so loud his heartbeat could be mistaken for an 808, and he feels the thrum in his bones.

If he wasn’t so overwhelmed, if he was drunk, maybe it could be fun.

Finally, out of the haze of bodies, Bucky can breathe.

You’re leaning over again, speaking quickly.

“I don’t see her.”

“I can’t see shit in here,” he calls back, eyes moving along the ridge of the room. He scans the booths set into the walls, set up on platforms, and roped off with velveteen, “Where would she be?”

“Hard to tell,” you mumble, “But I think I might need to go to Plan B.”

Bucky follows your solid stare.

In the booth directly across the floor from you, there’s a man in black — black everything, save from his hair. That’s the brightest blue Bucky has ever seen. He’s swallowed by a harem of men and women who are laughing and drinking and dancing, and he’s entertaining. Ringed fingers wave in the air, face split into a laugh so wide he swears it’s a mile long. He’s got glasses on and they’re tinted blue.

Bucky watches carefully as you move to his booth.

It’s like a prey surveying a trap — you’re careful.

Finally, when you stand before it, you let go of his hand.

“Hi there, Climber.”

The whole booth falls silent. The man stiffens, back turned to you totally. Bucky watches as his hands fall and slowly, the man you’d called Climber turns around.

His expression is stone cold.

His voice, however, is as warm as a hot poker.

“Oh my goodness, is that Rabbit?”

He ascends from the booth, platform boots leaving him to tower over you — he’s no small man, either. Bucky watches as he bends to kiss both of your cheeks and hug you tightly. He, however, doesn’t pull away entirely.

“What the fuck are you doing here,” he hisses, “You want to be roadkill?”

“I need to find Kiwi,” you whisper quickly, expression almost begging, “Please.”

He pauses, dimpled chin wavering a bit. Bucky watches him sniff, push his glasses back, and readjust his posture. Climber licks his lips and his eyes dart to Bucky. He’s thinking, Bucky realizes, and after a quick moment of deliberation, he seems to cave.

“Only because I owe you.”

“I know,” you say, raising your hands, “I know.”

In a dash, his demeanor changes once more. He’s flying over to his harem, waving his hands and blowing kisses and promising he’ll be back in a flash. They whine, they moan, but Climber appeases them with another round of jello shots from strobing syringes that a waitress is carrying by.

“Come on then,” he says, “And stop looking like such a prude.”

He begins to weave.

You follow hand returning to its spot in Bucky’s like a lifeline.

You’re sipping your drink, moving through the crowd easily. There’s a slight sway in your step now, and at one point you and Climber even get noticed by a pod of people who recognize your faces. It’s met with laughing and squealing and in the fray, the both of you slip back into the crowd. Bucky is taking it all in, desperately ignoring the tingle of a panic flaring in the back of his head.

Too many people.

Soon, though, Climber is moving towards a side entrance.

It’s a back room.

Suddenly, the dim lights and neon dissolve, and instead, Bucky is flashed in the face with the abrasive sting of fluorescent lights. It no longer reeks of spilled beer, and his boots don’t stick to the ground. No, there’s quiet chatter back here — Climber continues to lead the two of you through a maze of supply crates full of booze and soda.

Then, a right turn. And a left turn.

Someone is taking inventory.

“Kiwi, I know you’re going to hate me for this—”

The woman who turns around is beautiful. She’s in the midst of eyeing an open crate that looks just like the others but fitted with a hollowed center, marking off what looks like an inventory of burner cell phones. Her brown skin is decorated with glitter, her eyes streaked with the same green shade of her tightly shaved head. The green is bright and it reminds Bucky of summer.

Suddenly, her expression sours.

“What the fuck.”

“I know—”

“No,” she snaps, raising her hand and waving to the assistant beside her to take her tablet and make themselves scarce, “You need to get out of here.”

“I need your help,” you say finally, tone heavy.

It’s enough to make Climber sigh. Kiwi watches you, scratches her neck, and swallows.

She meets Climber’s eyes.

Then she breaks.

“Where the fuck have you been, Rabbit?” she asks, worries seeping into her eyes as she pulls you into a rough hug, “We thought you were dead.”

“No,” you shake your head, “But you know I couldn’t be around here anymore.”

“Yea,” Climber snorts, “Not good for your health, huh, love?”

“Alexei still wants your head,” Kiwi chimes in, crossing her arms, “Does he know you’re here?”

“Igor was on the door, so I’m sure he’s heard by now.”

Both of them curse.

Guilt flashes across your face as you screw your eyes shut and nod. “I know. I know, I just… I seriously need your help, Kiwi. It was worth the risk. It’s — HYDRA. I need to tap into the Alexandria Library.”

Immediately, the woman stiffens.

Her eyes flash to Bucky in the corner. He stares back.

“He waits outside.”

“You can trust him—”

“No,” she snaps, “I can’t. And I don’t. And I won’t.”

You give Bucky a pleading look. Between the two of you, a negotiation happens between your eyes. It’s a compromise, and finally, Bucky relents.

“Fine,” Bucky barks, tilting his head and giving you a tight-lipped smile, “Fine. I’ll wait out here.”

“He’s cute,” mumbles Climber as Bucky rounds the corner, long legs carrying him out of the supply room, “Boyfriend?”

“Shut up, Climber,” you mumble, waving your hand, “Just listen—”

“Who is he?” Kiwi asks, eyes still watching the doorway, “And why did you bring him along?”

You sigh, rubbing your brow. “He’s the one who’s trying to find this HYDRA agent. He knew her before.”

“So he’s HYDRA.”

“No,” you snap cooly, “He’s not.”

“So, just handsome, then?” Climber asks, hands waving, “Right. Great. Really making a case for yourself, Rabbit.”

“He’s trying to find a woman named Innessa Sidrova. She was one of the original agents who helped form the American HYDRA cell,” you explain quickly, “I’ve got the GRC breathing down my neck, and… And he’s a good person. He’s my friend. I’m trying to help him, but I can’t do it without you. Both of you.”

Kiwi hums. She sighs. “That explains why you went MIA.”

“Aside from putting Alexei behind bars?” you scoff, “Yea, the GRC played a part in it.”

The three of you are quiet for a moment.

“Fine.”

You look up at Kiwi. Her hands are on her waist.

There’s an immense wash of relief that floods over you at that moment — and from the looks of it, Kiwi can tell. You move to grab her hand, and she grabs back. Both of you smile, and the hug that follows is warm. You’ve missed her. A lot.

“Thank you, Suji.”

Then, footsteps.

That relief is traded in for an anxious backfire of fear in an instant.

It’s slow. Dress shoes on polished cement.

Then:

“Oh, bunny, bunny, bunny. Tsk, tsk.”

Climber and Kiwi’s faces upturn to the doorway and they tell you everything you need to know.

So, you decide at that moment that you won’t be the prey tonight.

You turn around and come face-to-face with a man playing devil.

Alexei Gardzov is a handsome man — a beard and piercing grey eyes. His hair is tightly cropped, and intricate tattoos decorate every inch of his skin. Some of them are new, you realize, and there’s temporary pride that bubbles up at them. They’re from prison.

You almost smile.

Behind him, three goons loom.

“I’ve been wondering when you’d come hopping back,” he croons as he enters the room with the swagger of a man who trapped his dinner, “Well worth the wait, I think.”

His cologne hangs like smog in the air. He strolls up to you, and in a flash, he’s got your hair in a vice grip.

He yanks it back, you grit your teeth.

The barrel of a gun digs into your cheek.

“Climber, Kiwi, and Rabbit,” he sing-songs, “All in one room again like it’s NYU’s 2014 hack-a-thon. Isn’t that cute?”

Kiwi speaks. “Alexei—”

“Shut up,” he snaps, gun moving to flash towards Kiwi, “And stay out of my business, Sujina.”

The gun’s muzzle is cold. He’s rough, and you try to ignore the twinge of pain that comes with his unceremonious yank of your hair. Once more, he tsks. His breath is hot on your face. He smells like cigarettes and whiskey.

“I spent seven years behind bars,” he bites, “All because a’ you.”

“Me? I wasn’t the one trafficking girls—”

“SHUT UP!”

The pistol cracks across your cheek and the cement floor hurtles towards you. The gasp that falls from your lips is from shock; your fingers dig into the cold ground as you try to blink away the blurriness. Your ears ring. Blood drips from your cheek between your fingers.

Again, there’s a hand in your hair.

Now, the fight begins.

Climber and Kiwi are stuck, frozen in fear.

You don’t blame them, because Igor and the others have guns already drawn. One of them, one that’s young and you don’t recognize immediately, has a baseball bat in his hands.

Alexei drags you by your hair as you grimace, refusing to scream. Your heels scrape against the ground as you try to get purchase, but he’s quick to throw you back against the far wall.

“Don’t worry, Bunny,” he smiles, “I won’t kill you. Not right now.”

Then, a kick.

Right to the ribs.

You can’t breathe — you gasp earnestly at the white, hot shot of pain.

“Get up.”

You’re not listening, you’re too busy trying to catch your breath.

“I said,” comes a growl as he reaches, hand in your hair again as he drags you up the wall. Your legs buckle, and you try to hold your chin high as you stumble upwards, “Get up.”

Then, there’s a hand around your throat.

Tight. Too tight. Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe. Can’t get his hand off your neck, can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’t fucking think, can’t stand, can’t see, can’t breathe —

“Boss!”

A new voice.

The pressure is relieved for a second.

A new face has run into the room — he looks frazzled, hair askew and gun out. He’s eyeing the scene before him in a moment’s pause.

“Can’t you see I’m a little bit busy?” Alexei snags as you gasp, clawing at his hand. He swings his head to the figure in the doorway with an annoyed bark, “What is it?”

“The cops, boss,” he stammers, “They’re here.”

“What?”

“They’re here for her, boss.”

A slow turn to where his finger is pointing. His gaze lands on you. Alexei laughs.

“Well,” he says as the goon disappears, “Isn’t that just peachy, bunny?”

The choking starts again.

Then, a metal hand.

Vibranium.

You watch it swing, you watch it grab Alexei’s throat.

Suddenly, you can breathe.

Suddenly, Bucky Barnes enters the fight.

You make friends with the ground again as you duck, just as Alexei is rammed into the wall above your head by his throat. As you cough while Kiwi calls your name — you can hear a fight. But everything’s moving slow, and it’s not until the first gunshot that you’re kicked into action. It’s loud. Your skin pricks alive.

Someone screams.

You stumble to your feet, eyes finding Bucky’s form moving quickly between the three goons — the gunshot had come from the pistol that had somehow found its way into Bucky's flesh and blood hand. One of the men is on the floor, suit pants stained with a bullet wound through the thigh. He’s wailing. Bucky doesn’t notice. Or he doesn’t care. Maybe both.

His face is cold.

Another gunshot is fired off, this time richoting between you and Kiwi and Climber and embedding itself into the cement wall overhead. The three of you scream, ducking reflexively.

That’s when Bucky snaps.

“Now would be a good time to go!”

Kiwi’s hands are on your arm as you quickly break through the doorway through the storage room. Climber is following, checking over his shoulder at the carnage that Bucky begins to reap in the room.

He’s hysterical, trying to jog in his white platform boots. “What the fuck, Rabbit!”

Your voice is hoarse. You’re clutching your ribs. “Not now, Climber!”

“I’m parked in the back,” Kiwi says, ducking through plastic flaps as she helps you through the back of the club, “Come on, we’ll go through the trucking entrance.”

You hear Bucky call your name — he’s jogging to catch up, gun drawn in his hand. Seems like he made good work of the others, sporting nothing more than a split lip. You turn, pausing for a moment to take inventory of his well-being.

And that’s all it takes.

Alexei Gardzov, limping, steps in front of you and Kiwi and Climber at an intersection in the hallway.

There’s a gun in his hand.

The first thing you feel is the impact.

Like a truck slamming into you at full speed. For the fourth time tonight, you have the air robbed from your lungs. It’s instant confusion.

Then comes the pain. Hot. Hotter than the sun. Hot like white flames. It tears through your shoulder and all you can do is gasp; you’re sent into a stutter step — and while the world around you continues to move, you’re busy reconciling with the fact you’ve just been shot.

A bullet flies by your head.

Alexei Gardzov drops.

You’re grasping at your chest, staggering, when Bucky breaks into a sprint — but you’re okay. You’re okay, it’s just your shoulder, it’s just your arm, you’re okay, you can feel your fingers and you can breathe and the pain is nearly unbearable but you’re okay.

Then, a baseball bat.

It clocks Bucky directly in the skull. He’s clotheslined.

It’s Igor.

The gun from Bucky’s hands clatters across the ground to your feet, and you’re too busy trying to get to Bucky to realize — but, you’ve got tunnel vision and adrenaline and at that moment, you think a good sidekick doesn’t need anything else in this life.

Igor goes to swing at you, but you duck. Your stiletto crushes through the top of his shoe. He screams and in a flurry of pain and panic, you manage to snag the bat quick enough to turn and clock him under the chin with a roll of the wrist.

His teeth clack together and he falls backward, unconscious.

“God, I really wish you could have seen that, Buck.”

You spit. Blood paints the ground.

The bat clatters to the cement as you fight through the pain. Kiwi and Climber are by your side in an instant.

“No, no!” she screams, “We do not have time for this—”

“I am not leaving him,” you snap, nearly screaming at the woman, “Come on and help me with him. Now.”

After a sigh of resignation, Kiwi shoves the gun she’d snagged from the ground into the back of her jeans. You’ve got your hands around Bucky’s ankles as Kiwi and Climber take his torso — and the four of you make a break for the back entrance. You can hear the cops outside now, and there’s the chatter of Russian following you into the back parking lot.

“Hurry up!”

“He’s not exactly light as a feather, you know!”

“Shut up, Climber!”

You’ve got Bucky halfway into the back seat of Kiwi’s white Cadillac when another bullet whizzes by your head.

“Fuck.”

Kiwi hops into the driver’s seat as Climber scatters to hop the hood and throws himself into the passenger's seat. You lean, clinging to the door of the backseat as Kiwi peels out of the parking lot. It swings wide open and you curse loudly. You can see Alexei’s men watching from the back entrance, shouting in Russian — so you muster all your strength to pull back and throw the door closed as Kiwi’s car bounces over a speed bump and rams through the parking meter’s gate.

In the rear window, the front of the club is surrounded.

Red and blue lights illuminate the street — but Kiwi is quick.

No one follows.

And when she finally makes it to the Manhattan Bridge, you exhale.

Bucky’s head is in your lap. He still hasn’t come to — there’s blood coming from his nose and you’re worrying. You lace your fingers into his thick, brown hair and chew your lip.

Kiwi’s voice pulls you from him.

“When were you going to mention the vibranium arm, huh?”

You laugh. It’s more of a breath of air than anything. Your head rests back against the seat. Your shoulder is still on fire. You’re hot, but cold. You’re bleeding still. Your ribs aren’t right. You know that.

“I can’t believe he shot you,” Climber mumbles, “He fucking shot you.”

“And your boy toy shot him,” Kiwi says, sparing you a look in the rearview, “So you better pray he’s dead.”

You ignore the commentary.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere safe,” she says, accelerating into Manhattan, “Where I can get you those files and you can keep your head down.”

Sounds like a plan.

Better than the one you had, anyways.

#vacant mirrors #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine #tfatws imagine #bucky x you #BOY OH BOY THE FORMATTING I WANNA SCREAM

984 notes · View notes

thequackcity · 3 years

Text

Quackity and Schlatt’s Relationship - More Complicated Then You Think

(this is all /rp and about the characters from the dream smp! pls assume i have the dignity not to write analysis of youtubers)

recently there was a bit of discourse surrounding the relationship between Quackity and Schlatt floating around on tumblr. tho i never saw the original post that sparked the conversation, i did see a few posts that were inspired by it mentioning how they disliked that the original post implied that Quackity and Schlatt were mutually abusive and/or equally bad for each other

since i never saw the original post, i can't be sure if that's what the op meant to imply. it's not really my place to speak about a post that i never got the chance to read. BUT the conversation that was caused by the post in question did get me thinking about how this fandom treats the relationship between Quackity and Schlatt and how little nuance there is in discussions about it

now before i say anything else, i want to make a few things clear:

i don't think Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship is mutually abusive. no need to worry about hearing that from this post

i don't look down on ppl who have different interpretations of their relationship

there will be potentially triggering content in this analysis. i will place a quick warning whenever i think one is needed!

their relationship is romantic in canon and therefore i’ll be treating it as romantic

alright now that we’ve gotten all of that out of the way, we can finally get on with the analysis! i apologize for how long this is gonna be

part 1: let's talk relationship!

i think we can all agree that Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship was not exactly a healthy one. tho it didn't start out that way, it certainly turned into what could be read as abusive or toxic (i personally read their relationship as being abusive in its later half due to evidence provided by the text, but i understand if others prefer to view it as just toxic instead)

but what happened that led to their partnership ending so badly? what caused all of this mess?

well, it was a lot of things. but we will get to that later. let's talk relationship first!

from the very beginning, Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship was pretty one-sided. tho they both clearly liked each other as friends/partners in crime both before and after the election (yes they did interact before the election!) Quackity was also interested in Schlatt romantically- something that Schlatt wasn't fully committed to

as we all know from the infamous date stream and from a few other moments, Quackity and Schlatt enjoyed playfully flirting with each other- tho it was pretty obvious that Quackity was more serious about it then Schlatt was even tho Schlatt considered Quackity to be very attractive

in my opinion, Quackity is someone who wants a long term relationship, while Schlatt is more interested in flings. this can be seen in Schlatt refusing to marry Quackity and rejecting most of his advances while Quackity tried his best to convince him to feel otherwise. Tommy put it best: Quackity is just one of Schlatt’s many bitches U_U

to Quackity, the romantic aspect of their relationship was very important. because Schlatt never actually shot him down or told him that he didn't feel the same way, Quackity took that to mean that they were truly in love. Schlatt on the other hand wasn't very invested in the romantic side of things but clearly valued Quackity’s looks and his support as an ally against Pogtopia so he never fully rejected Quackity’s advances

this might not seem like too big of a deal considering the other things that happened between them, but i think it shows part of the nature of their relationship. there is a lot of miscommunication and, on Schlatt’s end, manipulation of emotions. love is a strong motivator for loyalty and Schlatt is a smart guy who would know how to use that to his advantage

but that isn't to say that Schlatt didn't ever care about Quackity!

Schlatt is a complicated guy and figuring out when he's actually being genuine can be pretty difficult. but i think there are some moments that point to Schlatt genuinely caring about Quackity

when he was alive, Schlatt was pretty paranoid. not as paranoid as Wilbur, but certainly up there. but there were never any times where he truly questioned Quackity’s loyalties after his first day as president. Schlatt also seemed truly upset that Quackity betrayed him, bringing up their status as partners in crime while ranting about how much it hurt him and singling Quackity out while talking about how he had been abandoned during his time of need

Schlatt also spent a lot of time sulking after Quackity betrayed him and whining to Ponk about needing a new bitch. this is in contrast to how angry he was after Tubbo betrayed him- both during and after the execution

there is also the situation with the Big Man Gym

after being dead for a while, Schlatt contacted Quackity despite them leaving off on bad terms and asked for him to visit him in his cave gym. when Quackity showed up, Schlatt talked about how he valued their relationship and the good times they had together. tho this can easily be seen as emotional manipulation, Schlatt’s a lot smarter than he seems and- if he doesnt have memory issues due to being a ghost- would know that Quackity’s opinion of him was in the dump at the time of his death and most likely wouldn't have improved since then. Fundy has a higher opinion of Schlatt than Quackity does and is someone who obviously craves validation. but Schlatt went to Quackity first anyway and trusted him to help revive him

i think that this is all good evidence that points towards Schlatt truly caring about Quackity as much as someone like Schlatt can care about anyone- or at least valuing him as a companion

i also think that it is pretty common knowledge that Quackity cared about Schlatt- and possibly still does- but i will go over a bit of evidence that i haven’t already mentioned before we move on to the next part

Quackity tried multiple times to impress Schlatt (like when he lied about knowing how to play chess), would attempt to help Schlatt when he was drowning in water, sadly said that they could have had something together while Schlatt was dying in the caravan, and implied that he wouldn’t have left if Schlatt hadn’t taken down the white house. Quackity also willingly went to the Big Man Gym after being summoned there by Schlatt and wanted to revive him long before the revive book became part of the story

part 2: what made it fall apart?

everything i've said so far has been pretty interesting (hopefully) but it doesn't really answer the original question: what went wrong to turn Schlatt and Quackity’s mainly positive partnership sour?

well it comes down to two things in my opinion: their incompatible desires for political power and Schlatt’s deteriorating mental state

Quackity wanted political power from the beginning and wasn't afraid to be open about his desires. he pooled his votes with Schlatt because Schlatt offered him the position of vice president, something Wilbur and Tommy weren’t willing to give to him. tho Quackity obviously cared about L’Manburg and wanted to see good things for it, he also desired power and was willing to team up with someone he didn't fully agree with to get said power

at 32:40 in this video, Quackity talks about how in politics everyone uses everyone so it's alright if Schlatt is using him. he then talks about how he doesn't want to be a man with no power and how he understands that Schlatt’s main goal is also gaining/keeping power. Quackity also shows a bit of his naughty evil side by saying if he overthrows Schlatt then the fun ends too early!

(side note: these two are pretty evenly matched in intelligence and manipulativeness, i love it!)

it's a bit of a fandom misconception that Quackity was a love sick yes man during the Manburg era. tho Quackity did want to please Schlatt and was in love with him, he didn't shy away from standing up to or disagreeing with Schlatt when he believed it was needed

at around 26:12 of this video, Quackity and Schlatt meet together in private and Quackity tells Schlatt off for playing down his role in the power structure of Manburg. since this was very early in Schlatt’s reign, Quackity shows no fear towards him and confidently tells him not to treat him like that

Quackity also broke Niki out of jail after regretting letting her be put there in the first place, tried to convince Schlatt to not execute Tubbo, jumped in front of Fundy when Schlatt tried to attack him, tried to stop Schlatt from tearing down buildings, and attempted to protect the white house he built from being destroyed by Schlatt. these are not behaviors of a pure yes man but of someone who, despite fear, has the confidence to speak up for himself even when disrespected by someone in authority

Quackity has always been someone who wanted power and someone who was never a yes man to authority. this contradicts with how Schlatt believed Quackity should act as vice president. in Schlatt’s opinion, Quackity’s one job is to sit around looking pretty while Schlatt does all of the important things and holds all of the power. Schlatt was a big fan of promoting people to worthless positions of authority and its pretty obvious that he considered vice president to be similar to the fake positions he gave Fundy and Tubbo

in the end, this was a big part of what destroyed their relationship. like it or not, Quackity’s a power hungry guy and always has been. he didn't like that Schlatt constantly shoved him aside and refused to listen to him

now onto the nasty bit...Schlatt’s mental state

cw for mentions of alcoholism, mental deterioration, and abusive behavior

before i say anything more, i just want to say that i don't think having issues with alcoholism makes someone a bad person. i personally have some issues with such things so it would be pretty stupid of me to say being an alcoholic makes you a bad person. alcoholism does negatively affect your cognitive functions tho and, combined with other health issues, can cause some of the very serious mental problems that Schlatt clearly struggles with

throughout the Manburg era, Schlatt’s mental state rapidly deteriorated. he went from a pretty normal- if eccentric- guy who had a drinking problem, to someone who was delirious most of the time. it's a sharp and noticeable decline that caused a lot of pain for Quackity due to Schlatt often taking his excess aggression out on him by yelling at him and/or belittling him. tho Schlatt often belittled Quackity before he went fully off of the deep end, it was never as aggressive as it was when he was in this delirious state of mind

it was during one of Schlatt’s most aggressive and delirious moments that he tore down the white house despite Quackity’s protests. as we all know, this caused Quackity to snap and kill Schlatt (it's more complicated than that but we will get back to that). as mentioned previously, Quackity implied that he would have stayed with Schlatt if the white house hadn’t been destroyed

in my opinion, these two things combined are the biggest reasons why Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship fell apart. their differing desires for power were not compatible and Schlatt’s awful behavior while his mental state declined caused a rift between them that couldn't be fixed

part 3: how toxic was it really?

cw for emotional and physical abuse

as i said all the way back in part one, Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship was not healthy. i have provided many examples in the other two parts that shine a light onto why it wasn't healthy, but i didn't show the entire picture

there are many moments that show exactly how Schlatt treated Quackity when he was acting at his worst and none of them are pretty. tho Schlatt was never truly aggressive with his insults until he started to go off of the deep end, that doesn't mean that what he said wasn't negatively affecting Quackity

Schlatt would belittle, insult, and mock Quackity for his appearance not being up to his standards, for his opinions, and for being emotional in ways that Schlatt disapproved of like crying. tho Schlatt would often brush off Quackity’s reactions towards this cruel behavior, it's very clear that Schlatt’s treatment of him has stuck with Quackity in many ways

Quackity is very sensitive about his appearance and it seems to be because of how badly Schlatt hurt his self esteem during their time together. Schlatt tied Quackity’s worth to his appearance and then would claim he wasn't meeting his standards of attractiveness. we can tell that this has stuck with Quackity because of his sensitivity towards people bringing up the scar on his face (something that greatly alters his physical appearance) and he still reacts very badly when Schlatt calls him the mocking nickname flatty patty

speaking of flatty patty- that stupid insult shockingly has a lot of weight in Quackity’s relationship with Schlatt. tho its something the audience is meant to laugh at, the nickname also shows just how little Schlatt respects Quackity because he's constantly throwing it around just to make Quackity upset. Schlatt’s last words are flatty patty all because he wanted to get in one last dig at his ex and ruin Quackity’s day even further

Schlatt tends to do a lot of things that are intended to make Quackity upset. tearing down the room Quackity made for him in the white house is the biggest example of this- especially since Schlatt mentions how it will upset Quackity while he does it. you can see this moment at around 19:10 of this video

and now let's get into the elephant in the room when it comes to these two: Quackity was scared of Schlatt. tho we never really see Schlatt hit or attack Quackity physically outside of their confrontation at the white house or their confrontation in the caravan, these clips imply that Quackity was at the very least scared of Schlatt physically harming him in some way

as for actually physically harming him, Schlatt hits Quackity multiple times with a pickaxe and with his fists during their white house fight. Quackity hits Schlatt a couple times too, tho these are all primarily defensive blows since he is trying to protect himself and his property. he also chases after Quackity with a bow after Quackity’s plan to trick him into signing Manburg over to the Pogtopians fails and hits him multiple times during the caravan confrontation

all of this evidence shows that Schlatt was an abusive (or at least toxic) partner towards Quackity and someone who greatly affected him in many ways

tho Quackity did a few questionable things throughout his relationship with Schlatt (such as trying to get Schlatt to have sex with him despite Schlatt not being interested as shown in the later half of this video) and did some downright morally wrong things during his time as vice president of Manburg, no one deserves the pain of an abusive relationship- even a person who has done bad things

as a brief side note before we move on because i know people will bring it up if i skip over it, Quackity did- and most likely still does- want to literally possess Glatt. he brought up reviving Schlatt and using him as a political pawn after Schlatt’s funeral and during their conversation at the Big Man Gym Quackity talked about owning Glatt and having him work at Las Nevadas with no pay

this is unsettling behavior to say the least but this essay isnt about the aftermath of their relationship so much as it is about their relationship when it was actually happening. maybe i will make another post talking more about how Quackity’s relationship with Schlatt affected him even after Schlatt’s death and/or about Quackity’s relationship with Glatt

part 4: final thoughts

i’m not exactly sure why the nuances in Schlatt and Quackity’s relationship get lost when it comes to the fandom, but it’s pretty disappointing to see. hopefully this essay can help people take a closer look at canon and maybe even help them find something interesting that they’d want to explore!

tho the point of this essay is to clear up any misconceptions and hopefully add some nuance to the conversations surrounding Schlatt and Quackity’s relationship, i also wrote it in hopes of showing people how fascinating these two partners in crime were back in the Manburg days. i didn’t cover everything but i think i did a pretty good job for my first analysis post in the dsmp fandom

also since you read to the end, i must say thank you! it really does means a lot to me that you did. i hope you enjoyed and maybe even learned something. this post can be used as a resource if anyone wants to use it as such

here’s a tiny devil Quackity for your troubles <3

#quackity #jschlatt #manburg #dream smp analysis #dsmp analysis #posts by me #this was really fun to make!! i worry it wont show up in tags tho bc of how many links there are in it #so pls reblog!! if you read it and liked it that is haha #meta by me

395 notes · View notes

earlgreydream · 3 years

Text

mischief.

| marauders x reader | fluff | smut |

anon requested. they’re all flirty and touchy with one another? like its mutual pining, smutty, dom!reader

“Wake up!” Sirius whispered in your ear.

You startled out of your sleep, and he put his hand over your mouth before you could scream.

“It’s just Pads, bunny. But c’mon, we gotta go,” he slowly took his hand away, trusting you to be quiet enough not to wake your roommate. Sirius put a sweater in your hands and you slipped leggings up your legs, pushing your feet into shoes.

You silently slipped from the dorm and ran after your friend, your fingers laced in his. You blinked sleep away as Sirius dragged you through the halls to where Remus and James were waiting near the dungeons.

“What are we doing?” you yawned, rubbing your eyes.

“We’re finally getting revenge on Severus for fucking up your charms project,” James answered fiercely.

“So you dragged me out of bed at two in the morning?” You asked in disbelief.

“We’re going to make it worth your while,” Remus promised, kissing the back of your neck. You smiled before turning to the door.

“How are we getting into the slytherin dorms?” You questioned, staring at the painting. Sirius winked, and it swung open, revealing a boy with gorgeous stormy eyes and black curls, a smaller copy of your best friend.

“Thank you, Regulus,” Sirius ruffled his curls before stepping into the chilly common room.

“You owe me.”

“Thanks, Reg,” you kissed his cheek, earning a smile from the shy, brooding Black brother. Sirius shot him a jealous look, one that mirrored the expression of the other two. You giggled, rushing them along.

You found Severus’ dorm, slipping inside in the dark. James went to the chest, opening it silently and waving his wand, murmuring a spell. Every article of clothing turned baby pink with ruffles and bows, and you all had to bite back laughter.

The boys waved you out, lingering by the door. You hesitated, grabbing his potions essay off of the desk. They all looked at you in surprise, you typically weren’t the one to go farther than just a little prank. You flipped off Severus’ sleeping form, still not forgiving him for ruining your charms project the week before.

“Are you mad?” Remus hissed as you walked to the common room.

“Quite,” you shot him a look.

“Thank you. Do as you wish with this,” you said to Regulus, putting the potions essay in his hands. The younger boy grinned, and Sirius’ gaze softened.

James and Remus took your hands, running through dark corridors with you, Sirius trailing close behind. You expected to be taken back to bed, but the boys decided not to try to break you back in. They brought you to their own dorm, and you grinned mischievously.

“Thank you.”

“Always, bunny,” James smiled, kneeling down in front of where you sat on the end of his bed. He slipped your shoes off of your feet, lightly squeezing your ankles.

You were buzzing with adrenaline, and you stared down at James, your mind wandering to how sexy he looked down on his knees in front of you. Sirius and Remus both recognized the look on your face, both of them sensing the energy shift in the room.

The four of you were exceptionally close, flirty and touchy. The lines of your friendship blurred to be more than platonic. The adrenaline and excitement fueled arousal, and the innocent night of mischief was quickly evolving into something more.

James’ hazel eyes gazed up at you, and he sat back on his heels as your fingers traced over the curves of your face. Your fingers pulled him up by his tie, and you pushed your lips against his. Your other hand carded into his hair, deepening the kiss as your tongue slipped into his mouth, dominating his. James moaned against your lips, and Sirius muttered a profanity, shrugging his shirt from his body and kicking his jeans aside.

James panted when you broke the kiss, and Remus pulled your sweater over your head. James hooked two of his fingers into the front of your t-shirt, pulling the neckline down so he could kiss the soft skin of your chest.

You sighed quietly and set his glasses aside, running your fingers through his dark waves as his tongue lapped over your nipple.

“Isn’t bunny pretty?” Sirius asked James, pulling your hair out of the way and tying it up before kissing along your shoulder and neck.

“Yes, so pretty,” James mumbled against your skin. Remus smiled proudly at the submissive boy, encouraging him to make you feel good. You leaned against Sirius, your eyes rolling back at the way James touched you.

“I want to fuck my beautiful boys,” you breathed against Sirius’ lips. Your tongues slid together, his long, beautiful hand wrapping around your throat. Silver rings left faint indentations on your skin, and he filled your senses.

“Let off of her, Prongs. We want to see bunny without her clothes on, yeah?” Remus gently pried James from your chest. He whimpered and you smiled down at him, praising him for being good.

You let Sirius slide your t shirt off, exposing your torso to the marauders. You lifted your hips so James could pry your leggings and thong off, and Sirius hauled you onto the mattress.

You pushed him down onto his back once he was stripped, allowing the other two boys to entertain themselves. Your fingers slid up his chest, muscular from years of quidditch practices, admiring his tanned body.

“Please, let me get inside of you, bunny. I want to feel your tight walls squeeze around me,” he asked softly, stormy eyes shining up at you, letting you take control.

You absolutely couldn’t deny your gorgeous, sweet boy, and you slowly sank down on his cock, letting him pierce you. His hands went to your hips to help guide you, though your hand that went around his neck reminded him that you were in charge.

“Fuck, bunny, you feel amazing,” he swore as you seated yourself with him buried as deep as possible in your pussy. A quiet gasp was the only response you could manage for several moments, overwhelmed by just the feeling of him stretching you out.

“Help me ride you, Pads,” you hummed, rolling your hips as he took some of the effort.

James whined in need, and you pulled him over to you, kissing him roughly and wrapping your arms around his neck as you bounced on Sirius’ cock. When he snapped his hips up, you squeezed his throat and yelped into James’ mouth.

“Gotta share, Jamesie,” Remus scolded James.

Before you could process his words, his mouth was on yours, replacing where James had previously been. James leaned down to reattach himself to your chest, Remus swallowing your loud moans as the boys stimulated you everywhere.

James shrieked, biting you lightly as Remus sheathed himself inside of the boy, taking him from behind as he continued to passionately kiss you.

“James!” Sirius slapped his thigh, pushing his face away from you and down to the bed. The brunette’s back arched as Remus roughly drove into him. Sirius sat up, letting you lean against his chest as you grew unable to maintain your balance, overwhelmed by the pleasure and stimulation.

“You’re doing so well, bunny. Our gorgeous girl, letting us kiss you everywhere and fill you up,” Remus praised as Sirius softly kissed you, licking over the bruised lips that were swollen from Remus and James.

“Sirius, fuck, I’m so close,” you breathed, and James moved, reaching between the two of you to rub your clit as Sirius bounced you up and down on his lap. You tightened around him so intensely that he struggled to thrust into you, snapping and falling apart as James’ help sent you tumbling into your orgasm.

You came with a scream, everyone following behind in close succession, pleasure radiating around your small group.

“I’ve got you,” Sirius breathed, holding you tightly as the mixture of your release leaked out of you, smearing across your thighs. You clung to him, the aftershocks of your powerful orgasm making you twitch in his arms.

Remus cleaned him and James up beside you, and you barely heard him ask Sirius to let him help the two of you. You squeaked as Sirius moved, and he hushed you with gentle kisses to your cheek.

“We gotta clean up, bunny. Then you can snuggle between us,” Sirius promised.

Although you’d been dominating during the sex, now you just wanted to cling to Sirius and let him care for you. You weren’t keen on the idea of him removing himself from you, but he gently laid you back and slipped out.

“Just let Moony clean you up a bit,” James brushed hair from your face, smiling sweetly at you. You nodded blearily, parting your legs to allow Remus to care for you. You winced at the contact, taking a moment to relax.

Sirius dressed you in a quidditch sweater, snuggling you between him and James in the large bed, Remus lying on James’ other side. Your head rested on Sirius’ chest, and he played with your hair until you fell asleep.

“Wake up, gorgeous,” Remus tried to rise you, and you covered your face with your arm, enjoying your sleep.

“Come on, I’ve got some tea ready for you,” James tried, failing.

“If you get up, you get to see Severus in those pink frilly trousers!” Sirius reminded.

That got you up.

Sirius swatted you backside before you could pull on a clean uniform that was in his chest. You often spent the night in their dorm, and now, you were prepared.

“Sirius rough you up?” Remus laughed as he watched you wince at first.

“Sorry, bunny,” Sirius kissed your cheek, and you blushed, hiding behind the tea James had made for you.

The four of you hurried to potions, and you giggled with delight as you saw Severus angrily trying to explain that he’d lost the essay to your professor, on top of why his uniforms had been... altered.

“The bloke deserves it,” Regulus whispered, sitting down with you and Sirius.

“Oh, absolutely,” you giggled, bending over your cauldron so you didn’t draw attention to yourselves.

1K notes · View notes

dreamlandcreations · 3 years

Text

Day 1 - Animal attraction

Boba Fett x Reader (force sensitive!reader, non-human!reader)

Kinktober prompt - Day 1 - Creampie

All prompts are taken from @the-purity-pen‘s Kinktober List!

Well, this happened. And it's longer then I expected... And there is actually a lot more plot/talk than porn??? So I don't know if it fits the prompt but whatever....

Warnings: age gap, smut, PiV, cream pie (obviously), feelings, implied mutual pining, enemies to lovers (sort of), a little exibitoinism, and of course my bad writing and errors due to not really speaking English

You watch the two men in Mandalorian armour walk into the cantina and approach the women at a further table. Mando takes the lead and starts to try and convince them to help find the kid. You think it’s a waste of time, so you linger at the door. However, when the red-head turns her attention to Boba, you can feel that things are about to get ugly.

You walk in unnoticed. They are too busy with their argument to realise that a dangerous predator is standing right behind them, ready to launch. When the princess is about to snap back to Boba’s threat, you grab her throat with the force and start to squeeze as you slowly stalk by the others until you are right in front of her and replace the strangling energy with your actual hand and say in a low, almost growling voice:

"If I were you, I’d choose my next words VERY carefully, Princess of Nothing."

The younger girl snaps out of her perplexed state and tries to grab you but Boba stands in her way and they start to fight. You let the arrogant princess go and she immediately tells them to stop. Then you turn around and leave them to talk out their deal while Boba stares after you.

When he finds you, you are standing by the pilot seat of the Slave I, with your back turned to him.

"Why did you do that? " he asks, almost angrily.

"Do what?" you reply nonchalantly.

He grabs you and turns you around to face him.

"Don’t play with me, Jedi! Why did you do it?"

"I told you to never call me that! " you hiss.

"Tell me your name then."

"Names can hold power over people, that kind of trust takes a lot to earn with my kind."

You can feel the intensity of his stare even though you cannot see his face, it's like he’s trying to see into your soul. It makes that almost painful feeling come back that’s always causing a throb in your heart when you are near him. It scares you, how much power he already has on you and you've just barely met. You feel the pull to him again. It makes you hesitate, you've never been this unsure in your life. This is not supposed to happen like this.

The closeness is unbearable, so you push him away and he stumbles backwards. You look over at him more thoroughly and realize what’s been bothering you for a while.

"You are hurt."

"No." - comes the quick answer.

"But you are in pain…"

He doesn’t deny it but he looks away, like he’s ashamed.

"I can help."

"I don’t need your magic, little witch." he snaps at you.

You say nothing , only move out of the way so he can sit, but he’s stubborn and just straightens his back and looks at you defiantly. That’s when Fennec walks in. She feels the tension, just says it’s time to go and she’s out of there in a second.

Boba sits in the pilot seat and tells you to leave.

When you don’t make a move he just sighs and closes the door. You watch him and try to figure out how to untangle this mess between you two without giving away your weakness. You do not want to fight. Not with him. Not even that initial teasing would feel right anymore. To your surprise he stops ignoring you and asks:

"Why are you lookin’ at me like that, ad’ika?"

"Like what?"

"You tell me. What’s goin’ on in that stubborn little head of yours?"

You are quiet for a moment and he thinks he won’t get an answer from you yet again. But before you can think better, your thoughts slip out like a Jedi mind trick is forced on you.

"I’m trying to figure out what’s so special about you? What IS it that makes me want to rub myself all over you and just purr? Especially since you so clearly cannot even stand me?"

His head snaps your way, he turns on the autopilot without looking and reaches out to drag you to him.

"Let me see you." he says gently. It is phrased more like a question, but he also makes it sound like a demand and an almost desperate plea.

Your heart in your throat, you tilt your head to the side and say:

"Let me help you."

He scoffs at your stubbornness, but after a moment he tells you it’s his leg. So you step even closer, slowly guide his pants down and sink to your knees before him to examine the extensive scarring and damage. His leg is clearly injured from whatever caused his burn-like scars, the pain must be excruciating on the best days.

You take your gloves off and place your hands on his legs. He chooses this moment to move back your hood and his breath hitches sharply when you slowly look up into his eyes.

"Why are you wasting tears on an old man like me, mesh’la?"

And again, it's like you cannot help it. You realise, he could ask you anything and you would be helpless to resist. So you let it slip, you reveal another weakness:

"It hurts. To see you hurt. I don’t know why? I want it to stop."

He’s looking at you with wonder as you start to heal him. The faint scars will stay, that you cannot help with, but at least you can make the pain go away.

"Still hurts?" you ask when you are done.

"No, not really. It’s just some lingering feeling. It will go away." He takes his helmet off and says a soft Thank you.

You shy away, but he reaches out to lift you by your chin and presses a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away, smiling softly.

"Doesn’t it bother you?" you ask bitterly.

"What?"

"That I’m not human?"

"I know what you are. I’m not afraid, if that’s what you’re really asking."

"And I know what you are… " - "She’s wrong, you know. You might be a clone but you are nothing like them, it is clear to see with just one glance at you. I’ve seen enough of them to know. They are like droids, they were made with a specific code and some of them might develop an actual personality, but it doesn't make them any more real. You are. You might look like your father, but he WAS your father. You are not a copy, you are your own person and you are maddeningly mesmerising."

"Mesh’la… Even without any of your tricks. You bewitched me. " he chuckles deeply and kisses you again.

You kiss him back, slowly deepening the kiss. He grabs your hair with one hand and pulls you closer, while his other hand goes to your waist to guide you into his lap. You both start to roll your hips, desperately clinging to each other while clashing in a feral kiss.

You pull away first and lay your forehead against his.

"If you do this, you know I cannot stop, it will be too late to change your mind." - you warn him.

"Good. You are mine."

He kisses you again and practically rips off your pants and underwear. You feel his fingers tease your glistening sex as he presses kisses along your neck and down to your breast.

When he starts to ease a finger in you, but you grab his hand and pull it away.

"I want to feel you in me."

"I don’t want to hurt you."

"Please, I need you. I can take it. I want to feel you even long after."

He growls and shifts you so he can press his hard member to your entrance and holds your gaze when he snaps his hips and slides into you in one move. You scream and then hear Mando yell through the door to ask if you’re ok. Fennec tells him, he shouldn't listen for a while or she’ll see his blush through his bucket. The others laugh.

Neither Boba, nor you care. You’re just lost in the moment, kissing, holding each other. Then he starts to move and you feel so full and it still hurts but there is also pleasure.

"That’s it mesh’la. You can take it."

"Boba…"

He keeps teasing you with long, slow thrusts. Just to suddenly switch to hard and fast snaps while guiding your movements. You hold onto him tightly and start purring.

"That's it. You are so good for me, so eager, so beautiful… such a good girl, mesh’la."

"Y/N." you whisper.

He freezes. His hands move to the sides of your head to make you look at him. His gaze is searching, looking for proof that he did not imagine it, not quite believing now that you are real.

Your hands mimic his as you hold him. You are slowly tracing his scars, soothing away any lingering pain.

"Y/N." he whispers your name as a gentle warning, he saw what healing took out of you.

"Please, Boba. Please, move. Please."

He obliges you. He moves faster now, getting closer to his end as he can feel you tighten around him. He wants to make you his, wants… no, needs to mark you.

"Do you want me to fill you up, ad’ika?"

"Yes!"

"I will. Over and over and over again. And I'll make you scream my name so everyone will know you are mine."

"And you are mine." you say as you come undone and bite his neck to mark him. You feel him spurt into you over and over again just like he promised.

You are still in his lap. He is still inside you. Neither of you move, you still have hours until you get to the meeting point. You just hold and lightly caress each other for long minutes, your foreheads pressed together while your breathing starts to slow to normal.

You feel his cum drip down from you and you move to stand, but he stops you.

"Where do you think you are going?"

"To clean up and get dressed?" you ask, confused.

"Oh, mesh’la… I’m not done with you, not even close." he chuckles in that deep raspy voice of his, even more strained now.

"Are you sure, old man? I don’t want to be the end of the Great Boba Fett by pleasuring him to death."

"Hmm… it's not a bad way to go. I’m afraid we’ll have to risk it. I’ll need to fill you up again, ad'ika, you let my cum escape from your tight little pussy."

He lets you stand then and pushes it back into you with two fingers then teases you a little before ordering you to undress fully. Then you make a move to take off his armor but you suddenly stop, looking unsure.

"If you don’t want to see…" he says with pain in his voice.

"What? No. Boba. No. I just… " you bite your lip, contemplating how to explain without accidentally hurting him even more.

"What is it, then? Tell me?"

"I love the way your whole demeanor changes when you have the armor on. You become the menacing hunter I know you are. That predatory way you carry yourself, that alone makes me want to purr. And most of the time you are easier to read with that damn bucket on. Your body language becomes much more expressive. I love seeing more of you like that too. But... it's a dilemma right now because I want to actually see you and feel all of you on me, so…" - You say looking away, being angry with this newfound shyness you can't deal with.

"Ni kar’tayli gar… " he says, staring at you again with wonder.

"...darasuum" you answer with a little more confidence.

He hums contently and smiles at you with mischief in his eyes.

"There you go, changing the subject again. I vividly remember you asking me to make you feel me for a long while, so let me get to work ad’ika. Let me fill you again."

And he does. He makes you see stars three more times that day and cums deep within you twice, so much so that it's almost painful.

First, he makes love to you right there, slow and attentive just to switch again to fucking you hard, to mate like wild animals. This feral attraction that started the intense arguments and animosity between you was also part of the solution to bind your aching, lonely hearts together forever.

Mando'a:

ad’ika – little one

mesh’la – beautiful

(Kov’nyn – the act of resting foreheads together aka keldabe kiss)

Ni kar’tayli gar.... darasuum, – I know you... forever (meaning: I love you. But it was used more like in its literally meaning here)

#boba fett #boba fett x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2021 #tppkinktober2021 #boba fett x force sensitive!reader #force sensitive!reader #🔥#⚡#my stuff #my fics

89 notes · View notes

syn0vial · 3 years

Text

The Official Star Wars Fact File: Zam Wesell

(Unofficial translation by me, syn0vial. Please forgive me for any mistakes, I've studied Spanish for some years but it's definitely not my first language!)

Zam Wesell was an exceptional figure that belonged to an equally exceptional species, the Clawdites. The bounty hunter was an unorthodox and extraordinary being who left a mark with her short life and career.

The Clawdites have always been oppressed and never been trusted. It is something that is accepted as natural in life. Their society arose due to a gene therapy that cured a sickness, but also created a new species, condemned to be exiled from the principle habitable zone of the planet Zolan. All Clawdites can change the color of their skin, but only a few are capable of altering the texture of it, and there are even fewer that can change its shape. Only a small number—very capable beings, dedicated and with great self-control—could take the form of another being for an indefinite period of time.

Shape-shifting results in great pain and discomfort for a Clawdite; they must use oils and ointments to stop their skin from becoming horribly cracked. Yet, in contrast to even the best of her species, Zam Wesell could not only change form with relative speed, but could maintain it while resting.

Combat Training

In Zolan society, those that deviated from the rigid secular norms were persecuted. Clawdite society was less restrictive, but even they showed apprehension about some of Zam Wesell's activities.

In the semi-anarchic society on the Clawdite-dominated continent of Sultur, where Zam was born and raised, the clans were governed by warriors known for their boastfulness. In general, the strongest prevailed, but even the boastful owed loyalty to their clan. Among them all, the best warriors of Zolan were the Mabari knights. They were part of a religious order that would not admit sinners among their novices. The religion of Zolan preached that the untruthful were the worst sinners of all. Despite this, Zam, when she was with them, successfully hid her true nature long enough to reach the third level of mastery in the Mabari martial arts, before being forced to flee Zolan.

Zam relocated to the corporate planet of Denon, where skills like hers were in great demand. The corporate security organizations always needed new employees and with Zam's shape-shifting ability, it didn't take much for her to ascend to the rank of sergeant. Nevertheless, this was only the beginning of her career. She calculated each step with utmost care; in this way, she quickly rose to become a very well-paid corporate bodyguard.

She was a self-proclaimed "progressive" and never forgot her planet and her people. She always sent huge sums of credits to Zolan, to radical Clawdite groups dedicated to the emancipation of their species; it is unknown whether she was truly invested in the situation of her species or if she only wished to provoke unrest.

Outlawed: Zam Wesell's journey before she became a bounty hunter was a winding one. She was denounced on her home-planet, Zolan, for being Clawdite and even more so, for her ability to shape-shift. After learning martial arts in a religious sect of warriors called Mabari, she abandoned her planet.

Clawdite Assassin

Since leaving Zolan for Denon, Zam Wesell had accepted work that provided huge profits and little excitement. Not much happened before she left her job as a bodyguard and sought a change of scenery.

Her experience in the risky world of industrial espionage on Denon had perfected Zam's deadly skills, while also allowing her to develop a web of contacts, financing, and gear to start her career in earnest. Finally, she could establish herself as a bounty hunter. She had adopted as her identity the appearance of a short, attractive female human, as a means of securing more work and hiding her true Clawdite face. With practice, although not without pain, she managed to maintain this appearance even while sleeping. She also adopted a uniform, a purple jumpsuit that could adapt to both her human and Clawdite forms, and that helped protect her skin.

Above the jumpsuit, she wore a flexible armored doublet and a protective skirt. The skirt's connected segments concealed an impact-absorbing system that offered protection against attacks from behind. Her helmet had its own light and incorporated a commlink under the veil that hid her face. In the heat of combat, her true Clawdite face could emerge, which the veil helped hide. Zam's belt had a series of compartments and essential devices for her profession, including the holster for her KYD-21 blaster. In front of her doublet, she carried a small respiratory device. These tubes inserted into Zam's body and allowed the device to function through her lungs if it was required by the atmosphere. The uniform came complete with a certain number of Mabari objects, among them an ancient cape clasp, an emblem on her helmet, and combat gloves. All these objects were ingraved with inscriptions from sacred Mabari texts.

We're bounty hunters, Zam, not heroes: The partnership of Zam and Jango Fett began long ago, long before she was contracted to kill Padme Amidala. The two bounty hunters respected each other. Zam had the honor of knowing the son of Jango, Boba Fett.

Elite Assassin

It was fated that the paths of Zam Wesell and Jango Fett would meet, but it would prove a very dangerous crossing.

Zam Wesell was considered one of the best bounty hunters of her generation, and she believed it. So it was logical that she would come to be known by Jango Fett, considered the number one in their profession.

One of their first encounters [Syn's notes: preceded five years by their true first encounter in the game Star Wars: Bounty Hunter] took place after Antonin Vigo, of the Black Sun, contracted Zam to kill Dreddon the Hutt. She took the form of a red-headed slave and successfully carried out the mission. Just as she was about to take her leave, Jango Fett appeared. Zam discovered that she was not going to be paid, nor was Jango, who had taken out Antonin at the behest of Dreddon.

Zam and Jango both knew of each other's reputations. The mutual respect that they had and their simiar ethics led them to allow one another to go on their way. However, the two would meet again shortly afterwards when a dug named Fernooda contracted Zam.

We've Got To Stop Meeting Like This: Zam and Jango were contracted to recover an ancient artifact. She let him do all the hard work; then ambushed him and made off with the idol.

Jango, you're always complaining about my shapeshifting: The mutant power of a Clawdite was very useful in her work and elongating her arm to grab hold of the idol that both she and Jango Fett were searching for. [Syn's notes: The presentation of this information is a little misleading. Zam catching the idol like this occurred well after this job for Fernooda, when both Zam and Jango were working together to keep Fernooda's boss from using it in a terrorist attack.]

I know that there's a man under that mask: Zam managed to get closer than anybody to the mysterious Jango Fett, with the exception of his son Boba. Even so, she knew that a relationship between them would affect her work, and thus decided not to push it further.

It was an awkward situation, since Fernooda had assigned the job to Jango, but had decided to ensure its success by also contracting the Clawdite. The aforementioned mission involved recovering an idol that had been in the possession of Fernooda's boss. Zam, who knew that Jango had also been contracted, let her rival do the dirty work before springing an ambush. This time, she insisted on seeing the face of the man under the mask. She was so transfixed on him, that she didn't realize there was an enormous insect, the guardian of the idol, about to attack her.

Without knowing why, Jango came to Zam's rescue and, recognizing that she was in his debt, she allowed him to leave with Fernooda's idol. Thus began the strange and exceptional relationship, even friendship, between Jango Fett and Zam Wesell. [Syn's notes: As mentioned earlier, their association truly began with the events of Star Wars: Bounty Hunter, but perhaps this is the point things got a little more personal between them.]

Partners: Without a doubt, Zam and Jango worked well as partners. The question was whether they were willing to let their affection become more important than their work.

Mutual Empathy

Although it was nearly inevitable that Zam Wesell and Jango Fett should encounter one another again, the first reunion that occurred between the two bounty hunters did not go as either had expected.

At first glance, the mission seemed simple. It involved an assignment that Vigo Antonin, of Black Sun, had given to Zam Wesell, and the contracts from this organization were always lucrative. Certainly, the jobs offered to bounty hunters of Zam Wesell's level were never easy.

The target was Dreddon the Hutt. It was never a good idea to threaten Black Sun business and Vigo Antonin wanted to make an example of him. Zam used all the resources at her disposal to investigate and infiltrate Dreddon's organization. Her Clawdite powers allowed her to adopt the form of a human dancer that appealed to the Hutt. She needed all her concentration to maintain this form during a prolonged period, but Zam was very good at what she did. The disguise completely fooled Dreddon. Hutts are very difficult to kill.

Poisons and blasters could not guarantee that Dreddon wouldn't have time to call for his guards, so, to end his life, Zam restrained herself to placing a microbomb hidden in one of Dreddon's amphibian snacks when he was about to enjoy a private performance from his favorite dancer. The result was somewhat chaotic, but decisive.

A Private Affair

Just when she was about to leave, Zam heard someone approach. She grabbed her blaster and hid, waiting to see who could be intruding on her mission. She was almost happy to see Jango Fett, the most infamous bounty hunter in the galaxy, next to the corpse of his client.

Zam had successfully completed her mission and would soon receive a rich reward for her troubles. What's more, she could make fun of Jango Fett for the murder of his client. She had him at her mercy, pointing at him with her blaster, knowing who he was and what he was capable of.

Unfortunately, Zam's good humor soon went up in smoke. Jango had returned from completing a contract for Dreddon: killing Vigo Antonin! Thus, neither Zam nor Jango would be paid. Fett took the first opportunity to draw his blaster and with that both bounty hunters were in the same bind.

Zam was the first to lower her blaster, with her trademark style. With a twirl and a grin, she pointed out that the problem was that neither of them wanted to make the first move. She then flounced off, leaving Jango alone with his thoughts.

It's a weird rock: The artifact that Fett and Wesell had to recover was an idol that, as they would discover, bestowed mysterious powers upon its owner. [Syn's notes: ...If "mysterious powers" means "ownership of extremely explosive chunk of rock," then yes, that is correct.]

A New Contract

However, Zam needed work. The matter with Dreddon had left her without anything to show for it. A dug named Fernooda offered a contract shortly after she returned to her base of operations, but he warned her that he had already contracted another bounty hunter for the job in question: Jango Fett.

Zam readily accepted the job, since it seemed simple. Recovering a little statue from the natives of the jungle planet Seylott that had been stolen from Fernooda's boss. She had already decided to let Jango do the dirty work and ambush him at the temple's exit.

Jango's Revenge

It seemed that this time, Zam Wesell had won. She even managed to get Jango to remove his Mandalorian helmet. The scarred face she saw was handsome, if a bit gloomy. Then, a huge carnivorous insect attacked Zam from behind. The other bounty hunter ignored Zam's cries for help, taking the statue and running.

My client offered 50,000 Republic credits: The paths of Wesell and Fett crossed once again when the dug Fernooda contracted them to recover an object that the natives of Seylott had stolen from his boss. Immediately, the instinctive sense of rivalry returned between the two bounty hunters.

Heroes of Coruscant

Zam thought that she was doomed, Jango Fett had taken off, leaving her to be devoured by the enormous monster on Seylott.

While fighting to escape, Zam was surprised to see Jango return. He told her to take out all the explosives that she had on her and prepare to detonate them. Zam didn't have much option but to trust him, although she wasn't sure that he wouldn't get both of them killed. Fortunately, Fett's jetpack got them out of trouble. Zam picked up Jango's helmet from amidst the smoke and the dust left from the creature's destruction, gave it to him, and allowed him to take Fernooda's idol; afterwards, she turned and left, smiling as she told Jango to take care until next time. There would be a next time, Zam assured her rival, although this didn't seem to bother Fett.

However, Wesell wasn't satisfied. She had heard rumors here and there, and soon learned the truth about her mission on Seylott. The idol had been under the power of the Force-sensitive natives. The Annoo-Dat general Ashaar Khorda wanted the idol to use as a weapon capable of generating explosions that could destroy an entire planet. Even worse, Khorda's target was Coruscant.

Zam traveled quickly to Kamino, where she met with Jango and, to her surprise, with his young son Boba. She believed that Boba's mother had been killed and Jango said nothing to the contrary. Instead, he listened impatiently to Zam's story about the idol. Zam ended by saying that, since she and Jango had found the weapon, they owed it to the people of Coruscant to stop Khorda's plan.

Under the Mask: Zam Wesell was one of the few people who could elicit affection from the harsh and implacable Jango Fett

A Matter of Conscience

Jango wasn't interested, since he wouldn't be paid for the work and his son needed him on Kamino, but Zam convinced him that there were countless children that needed him on Coruscant. Jango Fett, an orphan rescued by strangers, softened his position and finally accepted his first time working together with Zam Wesell. [Syn's notes: Again, second time since Star Wars: Bounty Hunter.]

Zam had seen Khorda's right-hand man, the dug Fernooda. Thus, she took on his appearance in order to discover Khorda's and his lackeys' plans. They found out that Fernooda planned to place the idol in one of the planet's central reactors, where the explosion would cause a chain reaction that would destroy the planet completely.

Jango and Zam, along with a solitary Jedi, found the mad killer, after following the clues that he and his gang had left. Together, the three proceeded to defeat the gang and recover the idol. The Jedi could absorb the Force of the idol and leave it without power once more; although at the cost of his life.

Safe Return: Zam Wesell worked together with Jango Fett to seize a powerful Force artifact and return it to its owners. She managed to convince Jango to accept the mission.

Zam and Jango took the idol back to Seylott, earning them the gratitude of the natives. They were requested not to return ever again, something that the bounty hunters had no intention of doing. Upon returning to Kamino, Zam was not fooled by Jango's complaints of not being paid, since she knew that, deep down, he knew that returning the idol had been the right thing to do. It was the same impulse that had saved her on Seylott. She said goodbye to Jango with a kiss on his scarred cheek, so he wouldn't feel it had all been for nothing. It seemed that Zam had won again.

Altruistic Mission: Zam's desire to prevent the deaths of millions of people in a terrorist attack shows that she had a certain sense of conscience.

The Final Mission

Jango Fett made an atypical decision: subcontract Zam for the most dangerous assignment.

Jango wanted to spend more time with his son Boba. The boy's education was very important to him. However, the most famous bounty hunter in the galaxy had many offers of work. He accepted most of them and the rest he passed on to Zam Wesell. She worked alone most of the time, although they worked together occasionally, to the benefit of both of them.

Assassination Contract

A man that Jango knew as Tyranus, the same that had given him work with the Kaminoans, requested that he accept a special mission. It involved the killing of a high-order politician who had interfered in Tyranus's business. The pay was very good and Jango was happy to be able to pass it on to Zam Wesell. It seemed like a simple job.

The target was a senator dedicated to public life, something that would make her an easy target for an intelligent assassin. However, the target was also a queen of Naboo, friend of the Jedi and a central figure to the supreme Chancellor of the Republic.

Direct Hit: Ostensibly, Zam Wesell had killed the senator Padme Amidala with a bomb on her ship, but the victim ended up being a decoy, making it necessary to take another approach.

Reckless Driving: Zam realized that she was being pursued by Jedi. Her skill at the wheel of a speeder allowed her to traverse the busiest districts of Coruscant, but her pursuers wouldn't give up the chase.

To Kill a Senator

Zam chose the occasion carefully.The target was to return to Coruscant for a crucial vote, and her landing would be predictable enough. Zam used her capacity for shapeshifting to discover the time and place of Senator Padme Amidala's return.

With her usual cunning, Zam managed to place a bomb on the target's landing platform and then left to observe from the heights of a building a kilometer away. From there, she waited for the moment of truth. Amidala's silvery ship landed, flanked by fighters. The senator came down from the ramp and the moment her foot stepped onto the platform, Wesell detonated the explosive. There were few survivors and the news was full of stories and images of Zam's success.

Double Action

Zam Wesell believed she had completed the mission, but her satisfaction was short-lived. Amidala was apparently alive in the rotunda of the Senate at the end of the day, a very irritating outcome. The woman killed on the landing platform was a double. Fett was angry, along with his client. There could be no more mistakes.

Fett spoke with Zam and gave her a glass tube with two kouhuns inside. He cautioned her that they were extremely venomous, since she wasn't an amateur.

The bounty hunters counted on an ASN-121 droid, programmed with the location of Amidala's quarters, to deposit the deadly cargo. Then, Zam sat and waited for the return of the robot.

It was emiting an alert signal. Zam saw through her scope a Jedi holding onto the droid. Not even the droid's destruction could shake the Jedi, and soon she was being pursued through all of Coruscant, with her skills as a pilot put to the test.

Just when she thought she had lost them, one of the Jedi jumped onto her speeder. In the subsequent skirmish, her vehicle was damaged and she was forced to land. She sought refuge in a bar with the Jedi close behind.

Death of a Hunter

Seeing one of the Jedi at the bar, Zam approached as close as she dared, knowing that he could deflect a blaster bolt if warned in time. Unfortunately, the Jedi was much more astute, igniting his lightsaber with a twirl and severing Zam's hand that held her blaster. The pair of Jedi dragged Wesell's wounded body into an alley to interrogate her.

Ground Chase: Zam, without her speeder which had been damaged, had to flee on foot. She got into a bar, where she intended to ambush her pursuers, but Obi-Wan Kenobi attacked her with his lightsaber before she could fire; Wesell was badly injured.

One of them, the younger one, pressed Zam to reveal the name of her client. At first, she resisted, but then, after the Jedi spoke again, began to tell her captors what she knew.

The poison dart that Jango shot ended Zam's life before she could speak a word. She died quickly from the venom's deadly effects; she didn't suffer. This was the last thing that Fett could do for a friend.

#zam wesell #jango fett #boba fett #whew! this took a while :`D #please let me know if any of my translation needs to be corrected; i'm definitely an amateur when it comes to translating!#star wars fact file #star wars fact file 71 #the official star wars fact files

69 notes · View notes

bookishofalder · 3 years

Text

Unexpected [Prequel]

Summary: The night everything began.

Warnings: Language, Smut, sweet Spencer Reid (we know we need a warning for this). WC: 2,434

“Goodnight, Tesoro! Kid! Addio!” Rossi sang happily, leaning ever so slightly against the stoic as usual Hotch, who rolled his eyes at the BAU’s patriarch. He did grin though, which Spencer appreciated considering he was the only one at the party not to indulge in the multitude of mixed beverages you and Penelope had concocted. A rare smile from Hotch was certainly a good way to ring in the New Year, especially when it resulted in your sweet laughter before you closed and locked the door.

You sighed and Spencer glanced down at you, a smile pulling at his lips when he took in your tired, soft expression. It was probably the alcohol he’d enjoyed throughout the evening-seriously, why did he have so many margaritas? And what was in those peppermint drinks? They didn’t taste of alcohol! But a wave of affection for you so strong swept through him and Spencer didn’t think before pulling you close, his arms circling your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Your hair smelled like roses.

You hummed happily in response, stepping into the embrace, relaxing against Spencer. “You know, I think it’s customary to kiss someone when you ring in the New Year, (Y/N),” He heard himself say, his eyes on a picture on the wall behind you. It was a favourite of his from when he’d taken you to the Santa Monica Pier after closing up a case in California. Spencer and you, arms around each other's shoulders as you stood on the beach with the Pier in the background. Spencer was stooped because he was so much taller than you, and you were laughing widely when the photo had been taken, golden sun kissing your features.

You leaned your head back to meet his gaze, your eyes glassy and wide. Giggling, you replied, “I always thought that was silly, meant for couples to just show off how happily domestic they are!” You rolled your eyes, but you hadn’t moved out of his arms. And actually, Spencer didn’t want you to, he liked how close you were, how safe and right it felt to hold you.

He cleared his throat, his voice deep despite the cringe-level response he came up with, “It can be...friends, who care deeply, too.” Christ.

Oh, but you didn’t cringe, or laugh, or pull away and affectionately ruffle his hair as he might normally expect. No, your response was anything but expected for Spencer, his words seemingly taking a moment to sink in and, still holding his gaze but with a much more intense one of your own, you wet your lips. He didn’t even hesitate, your subconscious response all it took for it to feel almost painful that he wasn’t already kissing you.

So he tightened his hold on you at the same time he dropped his head and captured your lips with his own. And as much as he must have caught you off guard, you weren’t done surprising Spencer; you moaned and parted your lips for him, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. He felt your arms secure around his neck, your body arching into him as you pulled him closer, your bodies responding to one another with equal fervour.

With a groan of pleasure from the sensation and bliss that was you pressed against him, Spencer broke the kiss to trail gentle kisses along your jaw, his voice just a breath. “Sweet girl, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He trailed down your neck, delighting in the sound of your whimpers, at the feel of you, his best friend, trembling with need and desire in the familiar front hallway of your apartment. It had been just so easy to cross that line that seemed to always cut between you both.

You tugged him suddenly, backing up and taking Spencer with you to your living room and your cozy couch. When your legs hit the edge, you stumbled slightly and giggled when Spencer clumsily steadied you. Breathless, you started eagerly working to undress him, your hands working to unbutton his shirt as your eyes burned into his with unbridled lust and desire, the longing so intense he was sure he’d burst into flame under your gaze. Spencer didn’t delay when you guided his hands to remove his pants, shoving them and his underwear down quickly and then dropping to sit on your couch.

He tried to pull you with him, but you gave him a coy smile, leaning out of his grasp. “You’re gorgeous, you know that Spencer? Fucking gorgeous.” You breathed, your eyes raking over his bare, lean body, fixing hungrily on his hard, weeping cock. Wordlessly, as Spencer gazed at you in reverence, you reached behind you and unzipped the back of your low-backed dress, which promptly fell to your feet. Your hands were shaking.

The fire within Spencer seemed to take a new hold over him when he realized that you were nervous. His heart swelled and stuttered at the intensity of his desire to care for you, to make you feel as safe as possible.

“Come here, sweet girl,” He reached out for you, helping to settle you into his lap, your matching underwear and bra still on. When your core rubbed over Spencer’s length you both hissed at the sensation; he pressed his large hands into your back, fingers splayed, and captured your lips again. He could feel himself coming undone as you quivered in his arms. He ground his hips into you, groaning, “Fuck, can I touch you?”

“Please Spence,” You whimpered, and he realized your hips were returning his urgency, seeking friction desperately. “N-Need you, please. I need you so much, Spence.”

Fuck, you didn’t have to tell him twice. With surprising ease and prowess considering how intoxicated he knew he was, Spencer dropped one hand to first trail his fingers teasingly across the outside of your cotton underwear, before he pushed the fabric aside and ran two fingers through your folds. Spencer grunted at how wet you were already, “You have me, you’ve always had me, sweet girl. Come on, touch me,” He urged you, groaning sinfully loud when you reached around to grip him, held his cock steady and sunk yourself onto him.

“Oh, shit, Spence,” You cried out, face tightening as you struggled to accommodate him, “Fuck you’re so much bigger than I ever imagined...filling me so well,” You gasped, more broken moans spilling from your lips, mixed with his name. Spencer took hold of your hips, helping you steadily take more and more of him, groaning in pleasure at the feel of your tightness enveloping his cock.

He had never seen anything in his entire life as beautiful as you.

It hurt him, your beauty hurt Spencer it was so raw and he couldn’t bring himself to look away from your face, as much as he wanted to see you taking his length. He just couldn’t tear his eyes away from your blissed-out expression, the way you tried to open your eyes and meet his gaze only for them to snap shut again as you took another inch of him. Spencer was hooked, obsessed, so much further fucking gone than he had been before when he was just a sad soul in love with his best friend.

Now he was a man on fire. And he never wanted to stop burning.

When you were fully seated in his lap, Spencer pressed one hand to your lower back and brushed the other over your face, pushing back some stray locks of your hair, “You’re doing so well, (y/n), take your time. Fuck, you feel so good,” He grunted when you clenched around him in response.

Interesting, he thought. It was almost as if his praise was...

Spencer tested out his theory immediately, “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” Clench. More wetness. A soft sigh spills from your lips. Fuck.

And just like that, Spencer lost it. Realizing that his praise, his assurances, turned you on more? That was a power, a level of mutual trust he never expected in his wildest dreams. With a gasp, his grip on your hips hardened and he started thrusting up, effectively forcing you to bounce over his length. Yet, you took it in stride, your hands instantly seeking his shoulders for support before you were rolling your hips almost lazily each time you landed back in his lap.

Neither of you was moaning any longer, no. Spencer was talking around his pleasured cries, pulling as much bliss from you as possible by keeping up a constant stream of praise and kind words that he meant, right down to his soul he fucking meant every word. And you...you were a goddess, his name on your lips between screams and gasps, nails digging into his shoulders from how hard you gripped him. It was funny-as much as you couldn’t keep your eyes open, Spencer was unable to do more than blink, unable to tear his gaze from your face.

To spend so long painfully in love with you, hiding the depths of his feelings for years, pushing back any hope that might have cropped up that you felt the same, had been torture. Torture he happily bathed in, day after day but now you were actually in his arms, whimpering his name. It was a gift, a treasure he couldn’t believe he deserved, and he wasn’t going to miss a moment of flawless, captivating you coming apart for him.

“Sweet girl, you are so beautiful,” Spencer moaned out, cursing when your velvet heat squeezed him impossibly tighter.

He adjusted his hips, tilting just so to perfect the angle. The most delicious sounds fell from you as he found the right spot, and that was when it happened. You managed to open your eyes, wide and bright, meeting Spencer’s and gasping at the expression on his face. At that moment, you sent one another toppling over the edge and falling into oblivion.

It was a paradise Spencer had never know the likes of. The universe opened up for you both, and he wondered how he could have spent his entire life deprived of such exquisiteness, the pleasure and love swelling and consuming him-fuck, was this Nirvana? Heaven? He didn’t know, couldn’t think straight as he roared, his movement stilling as your hands slipped into his hair and you started to crumble into him. He caught you, steadying you enough that he could keep watching your face as you broke into a million pieces, as you both shattered into millions and millions of pieces.

“Spencer! Oh! Ooooh...”

“(y/n), I love you, I love you.”

His eyes had snapped shut briefly from the overwhelming sensations, his orgasm overtaking him before he could check to see if you’d heard his quiet confession. He couldn’t bring himself to worry over it when he began to spill inside of you, holding you tight against him, his entire body jerking in bliss. It was easily the longest orgasm of his life, dragged out by the way you whimpered and clenched him as you were swept through your own.

It could have been minutes or months, truly Spencer couldn’t have quantified the time it took until he was slumping into the couch cushions and you were boneless in his arms, your face nuzzling into his neck. Still hard inside you, he could feel some of the overflows of your climaxes spill out and drip down his thigh.

You were gasping for air, trembling lightly as his hands came to hold your head and he finally closed his eyes properly. Colours, a never-ending rainbow of colours dancing behind his eyelids, the galaxy within his grasp with you in his arms. Nothing else mattered-it was only you.

Everything was you. You were everything.

Realizations of the depths of his love for you hit Spencer like meteors; he felt as though he’d never stand again from the weight of it all, his heart impossibly heavy in his chest. How could he ever be worthy of the trust and care you had just bestowed upon him? He simply could not be deserving of such a divine, world-shattering experience. Not with you, his funny, bright, deeply caring best friend. Not with the woman who had been with Spencer through the worst, had seen the darkest parts of him, it didn’t seem right. It must be a mistake, a fluke, and yet...

It wasn’t. You told him as much when you finally found the strength to lean back slightly and press your lips to his, cutting off his train of thought by thanking him, telling him it had been better than you ever dreamed, that you had never felt for anyone like you did for Spencer. As if he weren’t already completely obliterated, your admission now rocketed Spencer into orbit and he knew, he just knew there was no way he’d ever forget this moment.

He’d been on your couch many times before this, you cuddled in his arms, and yet it felt like the very first time. Here in the dark, early morning hours of the first day of the year, it was the beginning of something, of an adventure he couldn’t understand and yet wholeheartedly knew he was ready to leap headfirst toward, as long as it was with you.

With renewed energy, Spencer stood, gathering you in his arms and carrying you to your bedroom as he kissed your lips languidly, eager to continue dancing amongst the stars with you, for as long as you would allow. And as he lay you down on your bed, drinking in the expression of love on your face, he knew there could be no way he would ever lose these memories. He stripped you of your underwear and spread you, keenly aware of the level of trust and anticipation you held for him. Spencer knew he could never forget, happily spending the next several hours worshipping your body like a starving man with his lips, his tongue, his gentle teeth.

Some of the memories may slip away, but surely not even alcohol could steal the way you repeated that you loved him as he plumbed your sweetest depth. As he brought you to your peak, over and over. As he brought your bodies together again and you travelled the galaxy in one another’s arms even as the sky outside began to brighten and then, eventually, sleep lulled you both to its warm embrace.

No, there was simply no way he would forget. Spencer could never, ever forget.

Right?

Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!

✨

Permanent Taglist

@mermaidxatxheart @paintballkid711

181 notes · View notes

bbugyu · 4 years

Text

for you + yoon jeonghan

everyone in his life described you as his weakness, and he couldn’t even argue.

part one | part two

wc.10234 (LMAO) | fluff, smut, humor, etl/uni!au, ~new relationship stuff~, gender neutral pronouns for reader (but they have a pussy sorry), vague softdom/brattysub dynamics (guess who’s who!), there are - count em - 4 different sex scenes, more bff!gyu, filth, language, you know the drill, reader gets a lil tender, so does han, *sniffles* they just suit each other so well, please use condoms

this is where i admit that i wrote 20k of enemies to lovers garbage all based off a single line in falling for u, where they say they meant to drink a coffee with you but they accidentally chugged it bc theyre nervous. yup! all this mess for that one line! this is incredibly self indulgent and i apologize but also i don't because i needed this

visual culture was your new favorite class.

while there was absolutely no trouble making time to spend with jeonghan, your previous meditation time served as an allocated two hours every week where you could just sit and mess around with the boy you had growing affections for. the two of you would chat in hushed tones as the professor lectured, jeonghan’s fingertips tracing invisible patterns on your thigh as you diligently untangled his headphone cord for him, his thumb nails having been chewed too short to do it himself. he would bring you coffee on thursdays, when it was his only class of the day but your third and last. the caffeine was a well accepted afternoon pickmeup, and he never let you go after class without taking you out for lunch somewhere, claiming to be celebrating the end of your school day. then you might as well just come over to his apartment, he’d tell you. his place was closer than yours, he’d explain, swinging your hand in his. you didn’t wanna say goodbye yet, did you? afterall, the night’s still young, he’d tease, luring you with the promise of kisses between droopy eyed smiles.

jeonghan had become the complete opposite of your initial impression. he was sweet to you, genuinely, and if you liked him any less, you would say he was obsessed. you do say that, occasionally, when you’re hanging out with your friends and he texts you some purposefully cheesy line knowing it would make you roll your eyes, forcing you to mention him to your questioning friends, but you never truly meant it. you’d be a liar if you said every eye roll wasn’t just to cover up the faint feeling of butterflies in your gut. he always knew exactly how to make you want to see him, and you never hesitated to tell him when you did.

on one such day, when you had told him that if you went home you would need him to drive you into the woods and help you dig your roommate a clandestine grave, he stopped by your friend’s apartment after a shift, waiting dutifully by the door with his shoes still on and his hands shoved into his jean pockets as you searched the kitchen counter for your keys.

“serious, mingyu, what did you do with them? i know i left them next to the toaster.”

“i used your bottle opener, but i swear i put them on the coffee table,” he said, pushing back his hair as he looked around the small living room.

jeonghan watched you and mingyu tear apart the couch, trying to ignore the roommate that was leaning against the wall, eyeing him.

“where do you live?”

jeonghan blinked and looked at him. “uh, my apartment’s a couple streets over and a few-”

“roommates?” minghao watched as the older straightened his spine involuntarily, arms folded across his chest as he appraised his friend’s new chew toy.

“yeah, three,” he responded. minghao kept eyeing him. he fidgeted under the gaze, then coughed to clear his throat. for some reason unknown to even him, he said “they’re good people,” as though he was seeking some kind of approval.

minghao nodded slowly. “they act tough but they’re not. if you break their heart, i’ll break you.”

“what?”

“y/n,” he said, causing you to perk your head up from across the room while simultaneously clarifying. he lifted his hand and jangled your keys, holding them by the novelty hulk fist bottle opener. “found ‘em.”

“jesus christ, myungho, you had them the whole time?” you exhaled sharply, shoving a couch cushion back where it was meant to be. “don’t be a prick.”

you snagged the keys from him and shoved your feet into your shoes, taking the bag that jeonghan was holding for you.

“wo ai ni.”

you batted at minghao’s arm. “yeah, whatever. love you, too. see you guys later?”

mingyu threw up a peace sign from the couch, where he had promptly laid himself out after the search for keys had ceased, and minghao smiled as he waved you off and closed the door behind you.

you asked how work was, and jeonghan sighed, describing it shortly as work, but said he was glad it was over so that he could spend some time with you.

you giggled, knocking shoulders and slyly lacing your fingers between his. “cheesy.”

he gave you your favorite sideways smile, though he didn’t know it was your favorite, and you, again, ignored the flitting in your stomach that he always seemed to cause. “so, uh… myungho…”

you exhaled. “what did he say to you?”

“nothing, really,” he said quickly, knowing you would get mad at your friend if he told you the full truth. “i was just kind of curious if you two had ever, y'know…”

you looked at jeonghan. “you’re not jealous, are you?”

he looked back. “i don’t have reason to be, do i?”

“of course not,” you said, pulling your bag up on your shoulder. “i’ve kissed hao once, on a drunk dare, and we both agreed to never try it again. he’s like a brother.”

jeonghan nodded, thinking about the protective stance the tall lean man had taken when he tried (and maybe succeeded, though jeonghan would never admit it) to intimidate him. no matter the vibe he got, he trusted you, and he understood the intent - however, you made him want to do everything in his power to keep you happy, so he didn’t think this myungho character had much to worry about.

“oh my god, hannie,” you gripped his hand tighter, your other hand clutching his elbow. “look at that dog.”

he laughed and followed your gaze across the street to the pom that was nose up, walking beside its owner. “cute.”

“isn’t it?” you sighed. “god, i want a dog. i hate living in a dorm. i hate my roommate.”

“move out, then.”

“and go where? back to my parents’ place?”

he rolled his eyes. “into the apartment you practically live at anyways.”

“dumb, dumber, and dumbest?” you scoffed. “i would kill all three of them in under a week.”

jeonghan wondered which was which, then pushed the temptation to mention his idea of you living with him out of his brain. “sounds like you’re shit outta luck.”

you sighed, craning your neck to steal a look at the dog again. “i guess you’ll just have to get a dog for me.”

he smiled back, eyes lingering on your face even after your gaze went back to the scenery. “i have a question.”

you blinked at him. “yes?”

he watched a cloud for a second. “what do you call me?”

“hannie.”

he laughed. “i mean to your friends.”

you eyed him sideways. “are you trying to trick me into calling you my boyfriend?”

he eyed you back, a smile teasing his lips. “are you admitting that you call me your boyfriend?”

“what do you call me to your friends, then?”

“y/n.”

you rolled your eyes. “you’re the most annoying person i’ve ever met.”

“woooow,” he went, sighing and pulling his hand from yours to shove it in his pocket. “here i was thinking we were in a healthy, mutually respectful relationship.”

you giggled, tugging on his arm. “oh, shut up. we are. you call me by my name, and i call you by yours. that’s as mutually respectful as we can get.”

jeonghan rolled his eyes, but allowed you to pull his hand out of his pocket and put your fingers between his again. he had never been the type to hold hands in public, but with you it felt right. “whatever. it’s only been a month. i’ll break you eventually.”

you exhaled. “if you want me to tell people you’re my boyfriend, you just have to ask.”

“why would i want that?”

you pouted. “i dunno, i thought maybe you liked me or something.”

he squeezed your hand. “don’t flatter yourself.”

you laughed, forcing a smile onto jeonghan’s face, and he didn’t stop you when you changed the subject to the fact that mingyu had informed you that a dissected sheep brain looks a little too close to ssamgyeopsal for comfort.

one day, he told you that he thought you’d be different, back before you started dating. you were gentler than he imagined, despite your continued quick wit and sharp tongue. sweeter.

“i dunno,” he said, leaning back against the couch with your head in his lap. “in my head you would just be mean all the time.”

you didn’t take it as an insult. “the version of me you created in your head is no responsibility of mine.”

jeonghan thought you were beyond incredible. while his original judgement of you being rude, pretentious, and, well, mean hadn’t necessarily been wrong, he had found you to also be incredibly caring, thoughtful, and maybe the funniest person he had ever met. you would sigh about how broke you were that week, how you were sick of eating cup noodles, but you wouldn’t hesitate to spend the last of your budget on soju and kimbap for your friends on your walk to their apartment. you always picked up on his subtle mood changes - when he would press his hands to his temples as he tried to process his literature homework, your hand would sneak onto his thigh and squeeze his knee to remind him to let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, despite your eyes never leaving your own textbook. he swore he never saw jihoon laugh as hard as he did when you and mingyu went off on one of your stupid arguments that only best friends could have, especially after you called mingyu a “grey’s anatomy-worthy harassment claim waiting to happen.”

“seriously, why am i friends with you?” mingyu grabbed his drink from your hand and glared at you when he noticed how much lighter it was (you had said you didn’t want one but definitely stole more than one sip). “can anyone else stand this bitch?”

“i like them,” jeonghan said matter of factly, his chin in his hand and elbow on the table as he stared at you fondly.

mingyu rolled his eyes. “you don’t count, evil twin.”

jihoon had his back on the floor, hands on his face, still trying to recover from your grey’s anatomy joke, and mingyu’s twin comment only set him off again. you giggled as you watch him roll onto his side, and briefly looked around this new grouping you found yourself in, sat around the low table covered in takeout in jeonghan’s living room. “how come you call me every day, then, dr. hate-my-guts?”

“free therapy,” he said, not missing a beat as he shoved a massive spoonful of rice and meat into his mouth. jihoon coughed, and mingyu narrowly avoided laughing as he chewed.

“i don’t buy it,” jeonghan said, running a hand through his hair and leaning back on the other. he watched you steal from his plate. “i think you like y/n the same reason i do. they’re the first person that didn’t tell you what you wanted to hear just because you’re good looking.”

mingyu kept chewing as he stared at jeonghan, his almost tired gaze going to you before he spoke. “you guys are really made for each other, huh?”

you didn’t think it before, but everyone kept telling you two that, and it definitely served as a pretty good ego boost for the existing confidence in your newfound relationship. you, of course, enjoyed jeonghan’s company even more without the validating eye rolls and gagging noises from friends whenever one of you made some praising comment about the other. you thought he was funny when he was making scathing jokes at his friends’ expense, but you thought he was absolutely hilarious when he was muttering every stupid thought that popped into his head with the specific intention of making you laugh too loud as you laid with him in your bed, his hand rubbing your back, overly aware of the fact that your roommate was trying to study at their desk as you planted your hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter.

as more time passed, jeonghan found it increasingly annoying that you both shared bedrooms with other people, considering how easily you could tease him into a bothered red-eared state with just your words. times that the two of you had gotten yelled at by whoever had to witness to get a damn room, or whispers between drinks that turned into standing too closely at parties, catching each others lips teasingly. disappearing into a bedroom only to be interrupted before anything can happen by some combination of party-goers and friends that somehow always managed to ruin the mood for one or both of you in an extremely targeted way. you had managed to help each other get off, of course, and he loved the look of you sinking to your knees in a bathroom stall, gaze catching his while you unbuckled his belt, or the way you squirmed against him, stuck between a closet door and his hard place, your breath hitching as he dug his fingers deeper into you. both activities were satisfying in their own right, but it would never be enough for him.

then there was that frustrating time jihoon had walked in, catching you with your hand down jeonghan’s pants, and he would never forgive you for the way you hesitated to loosen your grip on him despite the interruption. those few seconds of sheer terror he had felt, making direct eye contact with his roommate with his dick hard and in a hand that wasn’t his, the only thing stopping you from continuing being his annoyed “can you let go, now?"

he had decided to get back at you, and he got the opportunity a week later, when he had woken up behind you in your bed with your laptop asking if you were still watching and your roommate sleeping only a meter or so away. his lips ghosting across your neck, rousing you from your shallow sleep just to find his hand gently squeezing your hip, running over your mound until you were begging him to slip it under your pajama shorts. he had to put his free hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as you melted under his touch, your toes curling against his shins as the string in you snapped, and you punched his chest when you finally rolled over and caught your breath for getting you so needy when you weren’t alone. he just giggled and looked at you, half lidded, then kissed you like he hadn’t just been muttering voyeuristic filth in your ear.

jihoon was going home for the weekend, and the second jeonghan had found out, he told you you weren’t allowed to make any plans and swapped his saturday shift with a coworker. you had laughed in his face when he told you he intended to keep you in bed the entire weekend, but part of you had been waiting just as much as he had.

on friday night, when the two of you were sitting on the couch watching some documentary that you could barely pay attention to, seungcheol asked again if you guys wanted to go to the bar with him and soonyoung.

"cheol, i swear to god,” jeonghan said, the arm over your shoulder stiffening as he pointed at his roommate. “if you ask one more time, we’re gonna fuck in your bed, and it will be messy.”

seungcheol groaned in disgust as you laughed. “fuck you, jeonghan. i was giving them an out.”

“sorry,” you said, your head leaning back against the arm. “i’ll try to get him to wash the sheets, but no promises.”

“you guys are so fucking gross,” seungcheol said, snatching his wallet off the counter and shoving it in his pocket as soonyoung came out from the bathroom. “we’re leaving before they jump each other. do you have everything? if you forgot something, we’re not coming back,” he said, pointing. “i’m not risking it.”

soonyoung patted all his pockets, nodded, then smiled and waved at you. “see you guys! use protection!”

“don’t take the sixth shot,” you warned, smiling and waving back. soonyoung laughed as he got shoved out the door by his roommate, and when it shut behind him, you felt a chill run up your spine for no good reason.

“we should probably wait a minute,” you said, turning back to jeonghan, who was already leaning into you and letting his gaze flicker unapologetically between your eyes and lips.

“or, and this is just a suggestion, we can decide that we’ve waited long enough and that if they come back after all of that they deserve to see whatever they see,” he pitched, his fingers already brushing against your jaw.

you blinked at him from only a breath away, his honeyed eyes putting a sweet taste in your mouth. you swallowed, your stomach feeling light suddenly. “or that.”

his lips were on yours as soon as the words left them, and your hand rose to grip the front of his shirt - one of the many plain shirts that seemed to rotate around the household. you fidgeted for a second, before deciding you were impatient and pulling away from him only to swing a leg over his and straddle his lap. he grinned at you, hands landing on your thighs, lips excitedly welcoming back yours.

you really enjoyed kissing jeonghan. he always started soft, gentle, with light caresses and reassurances of how beautiful he thought you were. though you never catch him applying any, you know he has a peach flavored lip balm hiding somewhere in his daily routine, and you tasted it on him as you dove a little deeper into him, his hands squeezing at your waist as your tongue dipped past his lips.

jeonghan also really enjoyed kissing you, which was both good and bad for him. good, of course, because you could happily trap him in liplock for hours, and he never got bored of your soft sighs and adoring touches and wanton noises. bad, though, because his enjoyment becomes incredibly obvious embarrassingly fast, and he wished he could wipe the smirk off your face as soon as you noticed, but he always found himself completely powerless against you when you decided there was something you wanted.

and so, jeonghan’s eyes flicked over your chest as you pulled off your shirt, tossing it to the side as you stood and spun around, planting your hands on his knees and spreading his thighs as you sat back directly on his already straining bulge.

“holy fuck,” he managed, fingers running over the soft fabric of your gray sweatpants before kneading at your ass. you wiggled against his grip before grinding down against him, satisfied by the reaction, loving how clearly you could feel him and the way he sucked in a breath. you made no effort to stifle the noise caused by feeling him against your already dampening core, even through far too many layers. he whipped of his shirt quickly, his hands running up your back, twisting over your waist and pulling your back against his chest. you felt his lips start at your shoulder, then a hand on your chest, then the other snaking down your stomach.

you chuckled lightly. “can’t take a lapdance?”

“from you?” his lips landed behind your ear. “absolutely not. you’ll make me cum, and i have other things i’d like to try first.”

you sighed, rolling your hips as deliberate fingers moved from your stomach to inner thigh. “ever the poet.”

he smirked against your neck. “try it again later. right now, you’re making me insane.”

“mm,” you agreed. “i’ll keep that bookmarked, then.”

“god, how are you this hot?” jeonghan almost laughed. “you’re so annoying, why are you so good at teasing me like this?”

you smirked as his hand ghosted over your core. “yoon jeonghan, you make it incredibly fun to tease you.”

“i refuse to believe that it’s my fault you’re this sexy,” he said, drinking in the way your head dropped to his shoulder and a moan fell from your lips as he ran a finger up your slit. even through fabric, he felt the arousal gathering at your core, making his cock jump against your ass. you smiled, a hand snaking against his scalp, tugging gently at the hair at the base of his skull as he bumped over your clit, his reactionary groan matching yours.

“baby,” you whispered, your breath hot against jeonghan’s lips. “please.”

he licked his lips, tongue almost brushing yours in the process, using his hand on your waist to grind himself against you. “please what, darling?”

“fingers, jeonghan,” you whimpered, arching your back against his chest slightly in hopes to get friction against him, but he stopped his grinding as you did. you huffed. “please, i need you.”

he nudged at your jaw, making you roll your head as he planted his lips on your neck. his fingers undid the drawstring of your sweats to comfortably push under the fabric, and he let out a sigh as he didn’t find another layer.

“you’re evil.”

you giggled, gasping as his fingers quickly ran through your wetness. “and it turns you on.”

you let out a prolonged moan as he pushed his middle finger into you easily, sucking the base of your neck between his teeth. you gripped him, nails surely leaving crescents against his neck as he groaned about how absurdly wet you were, and you said something about how he was in no position to tease when you could feel every time his dick throbbed against you. he asked if you were dirty enough to admit how long you hadn’t been wearing underwear, and he watched you lick your lips before you told him all day. he smirked when you brought your lips to his, moaning against him as he pushed a second finger into you.

his fingers curled deliciously against pressure points, making you gasp as you tightened around them. jeonghan watched your heavy eyelids as you tried to focus on him, he watched your chest rise and fall as it flushed. he brought his free hand up to pinch your already puckered nipple, your temple landing on his cheek in an attempt to hold yourself together.

“i can tell you’re close,” he teased, and you only whined in response, eyes squeezing shut as his palm rubbed at your clit with the gentle movement of his fingers curling in you. “are you gonna cum on my hand, darling?”

you nodded hurriedly, your fingers curling in his hair, then opened your eyes to find his. he smiled at you, which only made you feel as though your world was crumbling. your back arched against his chest again as you came, and he held you by your core as you squeezed at his fingers, lips leaving repeated kisses across your cheek and neck.

despite the orgasm, you couldn’t help but continue to grind down against jeonghan’s hand, and he indulged your neediness by pumping them into you again before slipping his fingers out of you and pushing you forwards. “wallet.”

you groaned, pushing your ass back against him, smiling at the way his hand tensed on your side. “no please?”

he stared at where you were rubbing against his length. “i’m either cumming in a condom or your ass. your choice.”

he gave you a smug look when you turned your head to giggle at him, but his face almost completely dropped when he realized you were considering it.

“okay,” you said. “condom. this time.”

jeonghan’s cock flinched against you again, to which you responded with a wiggle before pushing off him and walking to the kitchen to retrieve a foil packet from his wallet, leaving him staring after you dumbly. when you turned around to walk back towards him, he had shoved his pants over his knees, leaning back heavily as he stroked himself using the hand you had so graciously wet for him. you gulped involuntarily, suddenly aware of how much saliva was gathering around your tongue as you tore open the condom.

he watched you kneel between his knees, his hand stilling at the base of his cock as you lapped a wet line up the underside of it, tongue swirling over his head. he tasted like you, and you had to swallow again before you rolled the condom onto him. you stood, turning your back to him as you hooked your thumbs under the waistband of your sweats and leaned over slightly as you pushed the fabric over your ass. jeonghan’s hand tightened around himself involuntarily, his other going to feel you. squeeze your hip, pinch at the soft flesh. guide you down onto him as you braced yourself on his knee. you pulled at the underside of your thigh, spreading yourself wider as you sat back onto him, sighing as he stretched you out.

“fuck,” he choked out, both hands gripping at your waist to stop you from sinking more. “shit, you feel really good.”

you whined, rolling your hips back in need. “i’ll feel even better if you let me sit.”

he chuckled. “why do you think i stopped you?”

you looked over your shoulder. “two pump chump?”

jeonghan pulled you down onto him harshly, forcing a squeal out of you as you curled over yourself. it had been a long time since anything had been this deep, and you could already feel your release building with one touch of his head to your spot. “shut up.”

“shutting up,” you muttered, voice almost cracking when he held you still and rutted up into you.

“god, i can’t believe it took us this long,” he said, steadying you with his grip so you could roll your hips on his lap. “to get me in you.”

“m-maybe if your roommate ever went to cl-lass,” you stuttered, beyond pleased that you could finally relieve this frustration as you slowly bounced on his lap. “f-fuck, you feel better than i imagined.”

you could hear the grin on his face when he spoke again, running his fingers up your side. “have i been fucking you in your dreams, baby?”

“well, you sure - mf! - haven’t been fuh-hucking me in real li-” your sentence getting cut off by a whiney moan when his hips bumped up to meet yours. “god, fuck, jeonghan!”

he pulled himself off the couch, pressing his chest against your back. he pushed up into you, almost desperately, his teeth running across your shoulder as much as his lips did. you gasped, leaning back into him, spreading your legs until your knees hooked on the outside of his, his unrelenting fingers finding your clit, just to make you beg as he pumped in and out of you.

“please what, baby?” he asked sweetly, despite the hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and the way his eyebrows knit together.

“p-please, can i cum again?”

jeonghan groaned, almost taken aback by your complete switch in attitude. while he knew you liked it when he tried to take control, he had never seen you go down without a fight. “who knew all you needed to stop being such a brat was my cock?”

“p-please, h-hannie…” you whimpered, and he could feel your walls constricting around him. “please, i wanna cum.”

desperation became obvious in his own hips, just by taking in your face. he had gone into this with every intention of milking you of everything you had, but he was man enough to admit that your begging made him too close to cumming to stop. “get my dick wet, darling.”

your mouth gaped in a silent cry as you crumpled into his chest, your legs twitching inwards as he moved his hands to your hips and continued thrusting up into you, your walls squeezing him tight until he let out a low groan, slowing his movement until he eventually stilled completely.

the two of you stayed there, a sweaty, entangled mess on the couch, both just trying to catch your breath.

“fuck,” you said finally, and jeonghan thought he couldn’t have said it better himself.

after two packets of slightly overcooked ramen, a conversation about how leaving a used condom on cheol’s bed would not be a funny prank, and a generous spray of febreze fabric refresher, jeonghan watched proudly as you walked with a slight unintentional wobble towards his bedroom, assuring you he’d be right there as he rinsed out your bowls in the sink.

when he did finally join you, you were laying on his bed with your phone to your ear, and he crawled up over you as you giggled into the phone, knees spreading to accommodate. “hannie’s. i told you, i’m staying here for the weekend.”

jeonghan could hear mingyu’s voice on the other end, saying something about how he thought it was next weekend for some reason and that getting laid would be good for you, but he just smiled as he kissed at your neck, your free arm settling around him comfortably.

“why are you calling this late?” you asked, looking over at jeonghan’s bedside to confirm the time. “are you guys going out?”

“yeah, of course. rockbox in an hour. you guys in?”

you tipped your head to the side as jeonghan continued his gentle kisses up your neck, hands running up under your shirt, making you sigh softly. “nah, we have plans. cheol and soonyoung are there, though.”

“okay, no worries,” mingyu said, then paused. jeonghan took the opportunity to bite just below your jaw, gently rolling his hips between your thighs to make you aware of what he was thinking. “are you busy right now, or can you talk?”

a pang of guilt ran through you as you held your breath, trying to not audibly react to the movement against you. you hadn’t been able to sit and chat with your best friend in way too long. “i’m, uh, a little busy? maybe we could get lunch tomorrow?”

jeonghan pulled back and glared at you, a stark reminder that he had asked you to not make plans, but you just put a finger to his pouting lips.

“as long as it’s after noon, i’m down.”

“okay,” you said, brushing your fingers across jeonghan’s cheek and pushing his hair behind an ear. “one? two? stew?”

“one’s good,” mingyu said, his voice sing songy. “okay, i’m gonna get ready. have fun! use protection.”

you rolled your eyes. “everyone keeps saying that.”

“yeah, because you guys are crazy and no one wants to risk it.”

after your byes, you hung up and looked at jeonghan, who was still staring at you with disdain. you sighed. “it’s just lunch.”

“i said no plans,” he reminded you, pouting. “now we have to go get lunch with mingyu when i could be fucking you stupid in my roommateless bedroom.”

“no we don’t,” you said, running your hands through his hair. “i have to get lunch with mingyu. you can do whatever you want.”

“oh, so i’m not even invited?” his eyebrows raised at you. “you do realize i switched a shift so i could spend all day with you, right?”

you giggled. “hannie, i would love to spend all day with you, but i haven’t sat and gotten lunch with mingyu in a month. i miss my best friend.”

he groaned, burying his face in your neck. “stop making sense, i’m trying to be mad at you.”

“you can still be mad,” you said, your fingers softly massaging against the back of his neck. “i like it when you think you’re punishing me.”

he groaned again, hating how you could so easily say the perfect thing to make him forget about anything else. “you’re evil.”

you giggled. “and it turns you on.”

he adjusted against you, trying to ignore his increasing arousal despite his original intentions. “sometimes, you seem like my own personal demon.”

“oh, fun,” you vocalised, brushing your fingers knowingly through the hair behind his ear, triggering a huff as you hit your favorite soft spot of his. “two demons trying to torture each other.”

he laughed as he raised his head, propping it up with a hand. “would you consider this torture?”

“maybe for normal people,” you said, sneaking a kiss onto his lips. “but we’re demons, remember? this is fun for us.”

his lips pouted, less to make a point and more because it was their comfortable, natural state after your lips leave. “i think i like you a lot.”

your face burned. it wasn’t the first time he had said something to that effect, but it made your chest feel funny nonetheless. “that’s reassuring.”

“i’m serious,” he said. “i really like you. and i don’t like people.”

you smiled softly. “i like you, too, yoon jeonghan.”

he adjusted his elbows on either side of you. “i want to be your boyfriend.”

you stared at him. “nah.”

“aye,” he cocked his head, making you laugh. “you said all i had to do was ask!”

“i’m kidding,” you said, putting your hands on either side of his face, pushing his cheeks in. “do you want to meet my parents, too?”

he looked at the wall behind his bed. “maybe that can wait.”

giggling, you pulled him into a kiss. “okay, boyfriend.”

the smile on his lips lingered as you kissed him, and he decided it was time to make sure everyone knew you were officially taken.

“you could have worn a scarf.”

you rolled your eyes, pulling the hood of the sweatshirt you stole from jeonghan’s in an attempt to hide the purple marks on your neck over your head. “it’s not my fault he tried to kill me,” you said, tugging on the drawstrings. “how was rockbox?”

“good,” mingyu said, leaning back. “weird. vernon ended up on stage.”

you almost choked on your water. “and i missed it?”

he laughed, then pulled out his phone to show you a video. “seungkwan made him do the features on a beyoncé song. he killed it, though.”

you watched the shaky vertical video of vernon on stage with a boy you knew but never really spoke to, watching in disbelief and laughing at mingyu’s hollering in the background. “wow. bey seungkwan and jay-v. that’s pretty legendary. i can’t believe i wasn’t there.”

mingyu laughed, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “how was your night? productive, obviously,” he said, gesturing to your neck.

“good,” you said reflexively, then exhaled as you looked at your best friend. “like, really good.”

“okay, spare the details, but like,” mingyu tipped his head and looked at you through his lashes. “good good?”

“mingyu, you know i would never say this lightly,” you put your hands on the table. “the best. seriously. man has a surprising amount of stamina for how much he naps.”

“damn,” he sighed and looked away from you. “y'know, that makes sense. i’ve always heard he was good in bed, and you two have some insane chemistry.”

you spotted the waiter coming, and before they were in earshot, you hurriedly said “plus his dick is huge.”

“oh, my god,” mingyu reeled back, then realized what you had done as the waiter put side dishes on your table. as soon as they left, he glared at you. “why are you like this.”

you grinned. “you were curious, though, right?”

he squinted at you. “doesn’t mean you should just offer up the info.”

“when’s the last time i slept with someone?” you asked. “like, really. it’s been, like, almost a year since i hooked up with rubin.”

his brows ruffled as he thought. “damn, is that true? has it really been that long?”

“let me brag,” you pleaded. “please? he’s so hot, i’m gonna lose my mind if you don’t let me talk about it.”

“i don’t know if i can be friends with you anymore.”

“dude, he spit in my mouth this morning.”

“oh-kay, so you’re buying lunch,” mingyu said, sitting up suddenly. “damn, this morning? have you guys just been going at it like rabbits?”

“i don’t wanna hear it,” you said, pointing at him. “you had to tell me about every guy you hooked up with during your 'hoe-liday’ last winter, you can listen to me talk about a guy i’ve been seeing for almost two months.”

“fair enough,” he laughed. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you like this.”

you groaned, sinking your head to the table. “it sucks.”

he stared at you. “oh my god, his dick made you fall in love.”

“shut up,” you said, lifting your head to land your chin on the table, curling a paper napkin over your spoon. you pouted as you tried to come up with an argument, but failed. “he’s sweet.”

“he’s mean,” mingyu corrected. “but he’s sweet to you.

"and dogs,” you defended. “and kids.”

“oh, so he’s husband material all of a sudden?”

you shrugged. “i’ve dated people much less likeable than yoon jeonghan.”

mingyu sighed, eating some kimchi. “that’s true. we both have.”

“yeah, so stop making fun of me, asshole,” your eyebrows creased as you leaned back and crossed your arms. “try being happy for me for a change. didn’t you want this all along? trying to get me to ask him out?”

“i am happy for you,” mingyu said, showing some genuinity as he laughed, also leaning back as your food arrived. “you just make it really hard sometimes.”

mingyu had the courtesy of dropping you off back at jeonghan’s so he didn’t have to borrow seungcheol’s car to come get you, and as he pulled up to the familiar apartment building, he gave you his usual “say hi to your boyfriend for me,” as he put it in park, quickly checking his phone.

instead of your normal “not my boyfriend,” you looked over at your best friend and bit your cheek. “sure.”

mingyu’s neck nearly snapped to look at you. “wait, what?”

you giggled. “sure, i’ll say hi for you.”

“did you-” he started, then stuttered, trying to figure out what he was asking. “are you guys, like-”

“he asked,” you said shrugging. “i said yes.”

a grin spread across his face. “really?”

“well, actually, i said no. then i said okay.”

mingyu laughed. “yeah that sounds right. wow, y/n got a boyfriend.”

you rolled your eyes, pulling the hood further over your head to hide your involuntarily hot ears as you adjusted to open the car door. “bye, goo.”

“this is my best friend,” he said loudly, making you stare at him with wide eyes as some innocent bystander walked past the car, all while you tried to pull yourself out of the door. “beautiful, right? sorry though, they’re taken, i’m dropping them off to see their brand new boyfriend.”

“you’re embarrassing,” you said, pointing an annoyed finger, grateful the person only looked back once before continuing. “go home.”

“you have done ten times worse to me,” mingyu said, grinning from ear to ear. “have fun with the pretentious asshole that can’t make an americano right, yoon jeonghan!”

that made you laugh despite yourself, and you shot him several expletives before slamming his door shut and running up the stairs.

after punching in the door code that no one had told you but you had seen enough times to know, you announced that you had returned. seeing jihoon’s chair empty on a saturday was strange, but at least seungcheol and soonyoung were up to their usual antics of playing some game extremely poorly.

you stood and watched the screen for a moment. “you know you can catch the arrows, right?”

soonyoung looked at you. “you can catch the arrows?”

seungcheol groaned. “why would you tell him that? i’m actually winning for once!”

you giggled. “if you dodge when the arrows are coming, you catch them.”

“you can dodge?”

from the other room, you heard a muted “hurry up,” and you saluted to the boys as they argued, following your cue to exit the situation.

jeonghan was on his bed when you shut the door behind you. “what are they yelling about?”

you sighed as you walked over to him. “apparently soonyoung didn’t know you could dodge in towerfall.”

he watched you pull off the sweatshirt - the same one he had worn on your first kinda date - to admire the marks he had left on you, then blinked when he realized what you had said. “we play that game all the time, how did he not know?”

you shrugged, then crawled into his waiting arms. “he’s not very observant.”

you sighed as you settled against jeonghan, and he kissed the top of your head. “how was lunch?”

“good,” you said, smiling. “gyu is good. it was nice to catch up.”

jeonghan clicked his tongue. “you guys talk every day.”

“okay, yeah, but,” you adjusted to look at him. “talking on the phone and hanging out with other people is different. we can’t talk about the same stuff.”

“well, what’d you talk about?”

you smiled. “wouldn’t you like to know?”

he squinted at you. “aren’t we supposed to be a team now? no secrets?”

“okay,” you said, fixing his bangs. “what were you and seungcheol talking about in his room yesterday before i got here?”

jeonghan couldn’t help the tiny smile that worked its way into his face. “did soonyoung tell you?”

“i would never reveal my source,” you said triumphantly, knowing it couldn’t have been anyone else, considering jihoon had already left. “also, he was pissed that you kicked him out while he was still sleeping.”

“if i could have just dragged cheol into my room, i would have,” he sighed. “trust me. i can pull soonyoung out of bed, but seungcheol is dense.”

you inspected his lips a moment. “were you talking about me?”

“uh,” jeonghan adjusted under you, putting a hand behind his head. “no, not really. soonyoung got a job, and me and cheol are both working more now. i wanted to talk about getting a bigger place, since our lease ends in the summer.”

you vocalised excitedly. “does this mean you’d get your own room?”

“that’s the idea, yeah,” he said, grinning. “you could stay over more.” and while he hadn’t lied - they had discussed larger apartment options, and decided to start looking by the end of the month - he failed to mention that the main purpose of him isolating seungcheol was to confirm he was crazy for wanting you to join them if they did move.

“i mean,” cheol had said, barely propping himself up in bed. “it might be a bit too early to tell, but you guys seem like the real deal.”

jeonghan spun in soonyoung’s desk chair, arms crossed. “but i’m insane, right? like, we haven’t even slept together.”

“they’re coming over for the weekend, yeah?”

“yeah.”

“so let’s talk about it again on monday?”

jeonghan kneaded at his jaw, exhaling. “yeah, okay.”

now, you had slept together. not only that, but you slept together, all night, in the same bed, and jeonghan woke up with jumbled poetry in his head when he found you curled up by his side. despite living in this apartment for nearly a year, it felt most like home with you in it.

and he had told seungcheol, when he got home from dropping you off for lunch, that he was pretty damn sure he wanted to wake up like that every morning.

he wondered how you would react, if you would want to take the leap and move in with him. part of him felt as though he was taking advantage of your situation for his own selfish want to have you around all the time - you would do literally anything to avoid being in a dorm next year, but your housing budget wouldn’t accommodate for anything more than a goshiwon. while that wasn’t the worst option, you always talked about how much you missed living in a normal space, with a stove. a full sized fridge. a real bathroom, instead of a cramped wetroom. if he were to ask you to live with him, you would likely say yes, but would that put too much strain on your relationship too early? or would you think he was moving too fast and say no? his mind whirred silently as you buried your face in his neck.

“what’s on your mind?”

jeonghan blinked. “nothing.”

“liar.”

he sighed. “you.”

you lifted your head. “am i what’s making your heart beat so fast?”

he hadn’t even realized his pulse had quickened. he swallowed, briefly wondering if he would ever be able to truly hide anything from you. “maybe. what did you and mingyu talk about?”

you laughed. “i was hoping you would forget.”

“i never forget.”

“we talked about a lot,” you said, fiddling with the collar of jeonghan’s tee. “classes, summer plans, boys…”

he raised his brow at the last subject. “boys, huh?”

you smirked at him playfully. “yeah, our waiter was cute.”

he scoffed in your face and you giggled, then flattened his shirt against his chest.

“we talked about you. i told him we were official.”

“how’d that go?”

“he made fun of me, but it’s fine because i told him you have a big dick.”

jeonghan’s hand went from behind his head to cover his eyes, letting out a half-groan and half-“really?”, but the smile on his lips told you he wasn’t mad. “why? why would you tell him that?”

“he’s my best friend!” you laughed.

“okay, why did you tell me that?”

“i’d thought you’d like to know,” you said, pouting slightly. “he might respect you now.”

he uncovered his face just so you could see him rolling his eyes before he tried to sit up. “okay, no more cuddling.”

you whined, trying to keep him in place, but failing. “but i just got here!”

“maybe you shouldn’t have left in the first place,” he teased, getting out of bed to turn off the air purifier he usually only ran at night, but had been too preoccupied to turn off that morning. “i told you i intended to keep you in bed all weekend, but you didn’t care.”

“i’m here now,” you pouted. “in your bed.”

“take a nap, then,” jeonghan said. “i’m gonna eat.”

you groaned. “you didn’t eat while i was gone?”

“too busy pouting in bed. your turn.”

you floundered and whined childishly for a moment as he laughed at you, leaving the room without another word. sometimes you hated how similar you two were, but only because it made you completely aware of just how annoying you were.

when jeonghan returned, you had completely passed out, holding his pillow under your head as you laid on your stomach. he smirked in the direction of the sleeping body and fiddled with a few things - closing the closet door, throwing a rogue shirt into his hamper, etc. - before making his way to the bed to join you.

his touch was gentle. enough to rouse but not frighten. you squirmed slightly, recognizing the way his hand dipped into even the most subtle curves of your body as you laid out comfortably. you gave a noise of approval when it ran over your ass, squeezing slightly. jeonghan smirked again, and you turned under his arm to face him, a soft smile on your lips.

“g'morning.”

“it’s four in the afternoon,” he corrected.

you sighed. “and it’s a good morning.”

“sure is, babe,” he drawled, smiling as you planted a smooch. his hand ran unhurriedly up your back, under your shirt.

you hummed. “are you really horny again?”

“listen,” he mumbled, almost laughing. “i just want to get of much of you as i can, while i can.”

you supposed that was as good a reason as any as you kissed him again, only for him to pull away and straddle the backs of your thighs. he pushed the balls of his palms into your lower back on either side of your spine, and you let out a low moan. jeonghan did this on occasion, treat you to a back rub. he claimed it was because you had the worst posture he had ever seen, but you knew it was an excuse to get his hands all over you, and you couldn’t hide how much you enjoyed it. you adjusted to lay straighter, burying your face in the pillow when he hit a particularly evil knot and had to dig it out with a thumb. you groaned as his hands travelled up your back, sliding the shirt up as he massaged into your shoulders. you sighed as you got up on your elbows and ripped off the shirt, tossing it somewhere on the floor, exposing your full back to him, your shoulders and neck littered in his marks. he admired them, even planted small kisses atop a few, then worked his way down your back, curving his hands over your ass.

you muttered a quiet thank you, and he smiled, giving you a succinct “of course” in response. he moved down to your legs, thumbs sneaking in your inner thighs and subtly spreading you out despite your pants. you hummed, pushing your hips to meet his touch, encouraging him to knead at your cheeks.

“have i ever told you you have a great ass?”

you giggled. “it’s average at best.”

“uh, no,” he said, voice pitched upwards in a teasing manner. “i think i’m a really great judge in asses and yours is fantastic.”

“yeah?” you peeked over your shoulder. “what’s so fantastic about it?”

jeonghan’s fingers dug into it, eyes shooting up to meet yours. “well, for starters, it’s connected to you.”

he ran a thumb over your crease, making you let out a small noise in response, and you buried your face in the pillow again. “shut up.”

he smirked against your shoulder, hands running up your back again and one landing on the mattress beside you as he pushed his hips against your ass. “yes, boss.”

you sighed, arching your back to get as much friction as you could while he ground his hard member against you. he sucked at your neck, and your hands dug helplessly into his hair as you whined.

“are we teenagers?” you asked, huffing. “do we have to dry hump or can we fuck like adults?”

jeonghan laughed as he lifted his mouth to ghost over yours. “impatient. if you were better, you would have asked for my cock nicely.”

“better,” you repeated, hating the way a hard wave of arousal washed over you, suddenly wakening your senses like it was from the pacific. “for you?”

the tip of his tongue barely swiped at your lips, your jaw twitching slightly in reaction. “you gonna be good?”

you tried to focus on him, your blown out eyes flickering hopelessly to his lips. “i-i can try.”

and with that, jeonghan yanked your pants over your hips and down your thighs, scooting them down as you hiked your ass up slightly, hoping to tempt him as efficiently as possible. his hands found your ass again, spreading you out as you groaned. “look at you, soaking.”

you bit your lip, making a pathetic noise into the pillow to avoid talking back. “please, jeonghan.”

two fingers ran over you, and you tried to muffle your moan as best you could as your hips moved involuntarily, pushing into his fingers. he smirked down at you, wondering how far he could take you as he messily spread your arousal. “bet you could take two right now.”

“yes,” you said, gasping slightly. “please, hannie, please, i can take it.”

he pushed two fingers into you, barely even scissoring them before pushing in a third, making you bury your face in his pillow as you groaned. “i’ve been fucking you good, huh?”

you nodded frantically, pushing against his hand as steadily as you could. he noted your neediness, and indulged you by thrusting his fingers into you until you were whining rhythmically to his pace. he pulled a finger out, then another, and you instinctively threw a hand back to catch him before he pulled away completely. he laughed lightly, his hand easily overpowering yours and pressing a kiss against your shoulder blade.

“sorry, were you close?”

you exhaled sharply. “that was so mean.”

“i’ll make it up to you,” he said, pulling your hips further off the bed and pushing you further apart. he licked a wide stripe up your core, and you moaned deeply into the pillow, gripping it with all your power as his tongue expertly ran over your clit. “you taste incredible.”

you panted as you turned your head. “i thought you just ate.”

“i have a separate dessert stomach.”

your thighs buzzed and gut fluttered, and you wondered how he always managed to make you weak in the knees, even when his tongue was buried in you. it wasn’t long before you were gripping at his wrist, knuckles white, quaking as his lips guided you through your orgasm, and he lapped at your release, licking wet stripes up your inner thighs as well.

when he backed away, you exhaled again. “jeonghan-”

“what?” he asked, pushing his own pants down his thighs. he stood to drop them to the floor before straddling you again, pulling your hips back against him. “is this what you want?”

your hand found his thigh, urging him towards you. he rubbed the head of his cock, already shiny and scarlet, against your core, and you practically begged on the spot. suddenly, he pushed you into the mattress, pushing his hips against yours but fucking into your thighs. you whimpered, his cock rubbing against you absolutely deliciously, but not at all what you were expecting. he groaned into your neck, snaking a hand up under you.

“god, you’re so wet, i almost don’t even need to fuck your pussy.”

you yelped when his fingers found a nipple and pinched. “h-hannie, please-”

“please, what?”

you squirmed. “please fuck me.”

he looked at you. “you get one more try.”

for a moment, you looked back at him and your mind went blank. “please, hannie, i need your cock.”

he smiled. “was that so hard?” his tone and kisses were sweet, but completely mismatched the frustration bubbling in you as he pulled back, making you moan again as the head bumped over your clit. “do you trust me?”

“yes, baby, please just fuck me before i scream.”

with one hand on his cock, he guided himself into you, a moan tumbling from his lips as he felt you completely unsheathed for the first time. you gripped the pillow in a tighter fist as he filled you out, and it took all your concentration to not squeal in a way that absolutely would have been heard by the entire apartment. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you back onto him as he fucked into you. as you adjusted to him, you began to curse the fact that this was only temporary - you would have to go back to unreliably private quickies in a few short days - and you suddenly got the urge to really savor the way jeonghan’s cock felt in you.

he leaned over you, changing the angle ever so slightly and just enough to make you cry out, and he put a palm at the base of your neck, wrapping his fingers around it slightly as he pushed you into his pillow. “i could fuck you raw forever.”

you tried to catch your breath to respond. “i would let you.”

you internally celebrated the low groan that escaped him, and the way his hips pushed impossibly further into you. externally, you rewarded the movement with a matching moan, though you slapped a hand over your mouth when you heard the game pause in the other room.

“don’t want them to hear you, baby?”

you whimpered into your hand as jeonghan kissed a line up the side of your neck, steadily rolling into you.

“can’t even talk?”

you shakily pulled your hand away from your mouth, trying to stifle your noises with just your will. “cheol already hates me.”

“he doesn’t hate you,” he said, his voice getting slightly more labored as he continued his pace. “i bet he’d love to hear your pretty moans.”

you clamped your hand over your mouth again, resisting jeonghan’s luring the best you could. he smiled against the hollow of your ear, nipping at it slightly.

“i know you want to, baby. just let it out.”

as he spoke, he shifted his hips, making you let out a high toned moan that was barely muted by your palm, and you buried your face in the pillow to avoid jeonghan’s shiteating grin.

“i love the way you sound when i’m fucking you,” he said, his voice never raising above his lowest register. his ability to keep his cool as you were utterly falling apart was perhaps simultaneously the most aggravating and sexiest part of the whole affair. “and you always back up against me like a bitch in heat.”

you reached back for a hand, but he swiftly grabbed your wrist to push it against your lower back. your chest heaved, and you hurriedly added your other wrist to his grip. with one hand restricting your arms and the other pulling your hip back against his, he licked his lips at the sight.

“i’m going to wreck you,” he panted. “i’m going to make you forget anyone you ever fucked before me.”

you let out harsh breaths as your chest pushed into the mattress. “already have,” you managed, peeking best you could over yout shoulder to the glorious view behind you. you enjoyed the way his tongue shot out between his lips, the way he watched his cock fill you tightly. you even liked the way his hair flopped over his eyes, even if you thought he was in need of a haircut. but you especially liked that he looked like he got lost in you. like he would never want anything but you.

you came fast and hard, squeezing him temptingly as you whined into the pillow. with that, he pulled out and rolled you over, fingers hooking at your pants to pull them off completely. you bicycle kicked to help him, then practically pulled him into you as his lips crashed into yours, hands pulling you as close as he could while you both repositioned your bodies. your hand went down to position him at your entrance again, and you gasped into his mouth when he slid into you again. his teeth tugged at your bottom lip, one hand gently massaging the back of your neck as you whimpered against him.

“you’re being so good for me,” he muttered, purposefully brushing his lips against yours with every syllable. “have i finally tamed you?”

your legs wrapped around his waist. “no chance in hell.”

he grinned, letting you pull him into more sloppy kisses as he steadily pulled another orgasm from you, and you couldn’t help but want him to cum with you. his eyebrows knit as your hands dug into the hair at the base of his head, eyes barely focusing on your lips as you begged for him to cum in you.

“you’re evil.”

you could barely smile. “and you love it.”

you choked slightly, body edging into overstimulation as you came again, and jeonghan pushed up off of you to better chase his own high. he pumped into you, hard and rough, for a few more seconds before you felt suddenly empty and he was shooting hot ribbons of cum up stomach and chest.

you bit back a moan, arching your back slightly as he stared down at your chest, leaning down to lick his cum off your nipple. you gripped his hair again, squirming as he sucked lightly, lapping more cum towards the peak. you tugged at his roots slightly, pulling him up to kiss you before he got you hot and bothered again when you weren’t sure you could handle more.

“i can’t believe you pulled out.”

jeonghan laughed in your face. “i asked if you trusted me.”

you pouted. “i thought that meant you were going to choke me out.”

he kissed you again after a short chuckle, then sat up to grab tissues. “maybe next time.”

he didn’t say it like it was a promise, but he kept it like it was one.

and when your weekend of nonstop bedroom antics was over, you admittedly had fulfilled yourselves enough that the following privacy draught was almost bearable. sure, jeonghan asked you a couple times to come sit on his lap while he worked on lab reflections, and yes, it was much less innocent than one would think, but the two of you managed to keep unfortunate walkins to a minimum, which was only made possible by finally getting it out of your system.

also because you decided your thursday 7:30 was barely worth it most weeks, and jeonghan was always happy to run over to your dorm to fool around for a few hours while your roommate was in class.

#lol #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #yoon jeonghan scenarios #yoon jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan imagines #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan smut #hannie #i wrote dis

525 notes · View notes

kwonhoshi0 · 3 years

Text

𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐞’𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝 | fic

navigation | requests : open | 3rd feb 2021

pairing : bakugou x gn!reader

genre : angst, fluff lots of fluff i promise

word count : 3.8k+

warnings : season 3 spoilers, blood, injuries, gore, knives, fire

themes : angst with a happy ending, kidnapping, injuries, worry, mutual pining

request : hiii so my idea was like a bakugou x reader (reader is kacchan's s/o) kinda storyline but the reader is like aizawa's daughter figure?? not necessarily by blood but like as a student she would always stay behind and make tea for aizawa and like just accompany him to not be lonely?? maybe?? idk something like that ANYWAYS we all know that bakugou gets kidnapped by the LOV so what if the reader saves him and reader gets taken instead so like how would bakugou and aizawa react or do when they see reader getting warped right in front of them? LOL HDKSLAMA does it make sense like hfkslala yeah idk but that was my idea hope you like it enough to write it<3 - 🐰anon

note : here’s me typing this out for the second time bc i’m stupid <3, by the way in this fic they’ve lived at the dorms since the USJ!

being the niece of a pro-hero isn’t easy, since he isn’t very popular you didn’t worry too much about press but when you’re trying to get coffee together no one can deny the resemblance, people put two and two together. you lived with your uncle, also know as eraser-head by the media, since your parents weren’t really around anymore he took you in and looked after you, your uncle doesn’t show a lot of emotion but he has admitted that it’s nice not being alone all the time.

after first starting UA you noticed a certain boy a lot more, especially when you trained together, having a crush on someone was difficult especially when they’re your classmate and when that said classmate also falls for you? it made it harder to sneak glances and kisses inbetween class, despite you knowing your uncle won’t really care you both wanted to keep it a secret from everyone for as long as possible.

it wasn’t that you’re afraid of your uncle finding out but you’d rather your relationship be your own for now, that was until you were playing video games in the dorms with your boyfriend who’s head was in your lap not thinking anyone would walk in through the front door since everyone’s asleep and aizawa doesn’t visit often, he wouldn’t have thought much of it but your boyfriend, katsuki bakugou isn’t one for pda.. not from just anyone so he just put two and two together asking you when you went to the staff office as usual, ‘y/n are you and bakugou dating’ he said with his normal toneless voice, knowing it’s best not to lie you nodded, ‘hm’ and that was all he said about it, which is a good thing because when aizawa didn’t like something he’d say a bit more. everyone else found out when you both tried sneaking a kiss before class, kirishima noticed bakugou left early for class so he went after him, when he caught up and saw him holding your waist and jaw he smiled yelling ‘FINALLY’ and that’s how everyone else found out, when everyone found out about you being aizawa’s niece you were surprised that more people didn’t know, bakugou noticed you going to the staff room a lot and how you left at the same time as aizawa so when he found out that you’re related he made sure to tred a little softer around your uncle, noticing the similarities between your quirks, your quirks are both mind quirks so it made sense.

after months of dating you never regretted saying yes to the ashe blonde, not once. of course you both had rough spots like any other couple but you talked it out, however long it took, bakugou’s willingness to talk to you and comfort you made you feel special and loved, it’s not easy for him but he’s learnt to trust you more and more as time went on slowly bringing down his walls for you.

you looked out the window of the bus at the beautiful scenery as he watched you ‘dumbass, there’s a prettier view here’ he joked making you snort ‘mhm’ he huffed in annoyance before you brought out the doe eyes rubbing your head into his shoulder ‘you’re a very pretty view’ you pout as he smirked, ‘fuck yeah i am’ you kiss his cheek as you laughed at his antics, it was time for the training camp you had all talked about for months, when aizawa brought it up everyone went wild, until a couple of class 1A whined because they had to do extra work since they failed the exams. aizawa told you about the pussy cats and to make sure to use this training camp to your full advantage since it’s only a couple weeks.

as soon as you got out of the bus the ground beneath you shook making you all scream as the pussy cats that just introduced themselves to you told you to get to the campsite as fast as you can, you stood up from the fall, groaning you helped up mina, uraraka and your friend kendo from class b, you looked around to see where the blonde was, noticing him you sighed relieved until you heard denki say ‘what the fuck is that’ you all peered through the trees to see a big creatures that looked like they were made out of...sand?

not wasting any time you pulled yourself into the air with just enough power so you were now standing in front of the sand creature you heard some of your friends scream at you, holding your hand out pointing at the creature you flicked your wrist snapping it’s neck in an instant, some people praised you as you felt bakugou’s breath on your ear as he quickly whispered ‘that was hot’ before running in front of you going after another of the creatures, giggling you ran after them. one of the reasons bakugou fell for you was because you didn’t hesitate when it came to fighting something in your way, when you got attacked at the usj he noticed this, the way you protected your friends first. as you all climbed through the forest you stuck with midoriya and todoroki, ‘y/n jump!!’ you looked to the side of you to see a sand creature coming straight for you guys, you did as todoroki told you, he blasted the sand creature with his ice, freezing it and letting midoriya smash it into small particles. you all ran through the forest as light started to hit your face, more light shining through as you got closer to the camp. finally at the camp you all panted while sat on the floor, you looked up as todoroki walked back over to you and midoriya handing you both water bottles, ‘thank you todoroki’ you smiled as you chugged the water down soothing your dry throat and warmth.

once you all got cleaned up and the pussy cats explained what would be happening over the time spent at the training camp you felt an arm snake around your waist, leaning into the boys touch he gave you a small peck before peeling away from you grinning, bakugou isn’t one for pda but no one was really watching since you were all walking to the cafeteria to eat and everyone was too hungry to care, besides if anyone pointed it out bakugou wouldn’t hesitate to cuss them out.

you slept comfortably that night until you all got woken up at an ungodly time that morning, the only person who didn’t look dead was bakugou since he gets up early anyway, ‘what time did you sleep last night’ he asked you with a raised eyebrow, ‘the same time as everyone else, 11pm’ he rolled his eyes, before he could get a word out you said ‘not everyone sleeps at 8pm grandpa’, denki and kirishima laughed at your statement, ‘shut up dumbass’ he retorted. aizawa explained what you would be doing, many groans and whining could be heard as he explained how hard you should push yourself, you had to practise holding yourself in the air while throwing random objects for as long as possible, the only problem with this is you feel extremely light headed and your nose always bled when you do this for too long, bakugou practised near you so if you did go overboard he could catch you, which he didn’t tell you but he didn’t want you hurting your head.

it had been a couple hours of this and you were exhausted, ‘hey y/n, catch!’ you spin around catching the water bottle midoriya threw at you, ‘thanks midoriya’ you smiled, he returned it throwing one to todoroki who was near you and then bakugou, ‘dont try help me deku!’ he yelled, ‘baby you’re sweating take it’ you said thank you to midoriya which made bakugou mumble angrily.

after some group training the pussy cats explained a game to you guys assigning you pairs, since the numbers were odd you got paired up with tsu and ochako, you looked over at bakugou who was complaining about todoroki being his partner which you giggled at. your uncle led the other kids back to the camp as you guys headed into the forest. it had been a while in the forest and you heard a couple screams making you shiver, you all talked about random things before ochako pointed a little deeper into the forest sniffing ‘what is that’ you looked up to where she was pointing and you could see blue flames, before you could answer you felt a blade slice your cheek, wincing you looked to where it was thrown from to your confusion you saw a normal school girl, ‘you’re all so cute!!’ she exclaimed making you raise an eyebrow. just as tsu asked her who she is you got a message from mandalay via telepathy, ‘students, villains have infiltrated the site, get back to camp as soon as possible’, eyes widening you jumped away from the girl aiming at her ‘tsu, uraraka are you hurt’ you said eyeing the girl in front of you, ‘tsu!! that’s such a cute name, i think i’ll call you tsu’ she said in a high voice, ‘only my friends can call me that’ tsu said with a shaky voice dodging the knives. she sent another knife but not at you or tsu, this time at uraraka slicing her shoulder, just as you contemplated using your quirk you all got another message from mandalay ‘you have been given permission to use your quirks, but only in need of defence.. we also know who one of the targets are, katsuki bakugou, if you can hear this bakugou please go back to camp immediately’ hearing this your head filled with worry for your angry blonde, pushing the thoughts to the side you needed to find him, so you used the force in your hands to pin toga to the ground sitting on top of her so she couldn’t move, ‘Y/N HER HAND’ before you knew what uraraka meant the girl loosened your grip from her right hand and plunged a knife straight into your thigh making you cry out, unable to move in time she pumped the blood out using a machine, screaming out in pain, tsu and uraraka ran to you but quickly stopped as toga held the knife to your throat threatening to hurt you further. hearing your scream and recognising it immediately bakugou ran towards your voice, jumping through the trees, toga leapt from you as midoriya, todoroki, tokoyami and shoji ran behind bakugou halting when seeing you all, ‘there’s too many people now, i don’t feel like dying tonight’ toga pouted before running back through the trees. you groaned as bakugou ran to your side ‘fuck, can you stand up’ you hopped up with the help of him pressing your forehead to his, happy that he’s safe, you quickly spun around to check on your friends wincing in the process ‘y/n what happened?’ todoroki questioned looking at yours and urarakas injuries, you explained while checking your friends injuries ‘shit midoriya, you look terrible’ he smiled at you reassuring you it’s fine. ‘okay so bakugou, we have to protect him and get back to the camp as fast as possible, you turned around to talk to the boy, panicking when he wasn’t there ‘where is he.. bakugou this isn’t fucking funny’ looking around you noticed tokoyami wasn’t there either as shoji pointed out his lack of presence. panicking you looked up to see compress, another villain apart of the league of villains, ‘you were so occupied with your plan that you didn’t even notice they’re gone’ he sneered, your blood boiled at his words, thinking what has he done with them..

‘WHERE DID YOU TAKE THEM!’ you yelled, you saw red, how didn’t you notice, your friends looked at you bewildered never seeing you this angry before, ‘sorry gotta run!’ the villain said as he hopped tree to tree, ‘fuck no no no’ you mumbled trying to think of what to do, ‘i have an idea’ tsu said quickly, she explained how she was going to propel you with her tongue and use shoji’s arms if needed to go any further, without a second thought you agreed, she wrapped her tongue around all of you and pulled back before releasing, the cold night air hit your skin, your wounds feeling soothed at the feeling. you could see him, the villain found where he was meant to meet his friends, until he turned to see you all coming full speed at him, panicking he hesitated as you jumped at him, another villain dabi tried burning midoriya but you pulled him towards you in time, todoroki didn’t get burnt as dabi’s fire only aimed for midoriya, you turned noticing the girl from before, you threw toga against a tree with a flick making her squeak in pain ‘that wasn’t very nice, i thought we were friends!!’ you laughed at the delusional girl, ‘never’, her facial expression changed to a furious one, she grabbed her knives throwing them one by one as you dodged and used your telekinesis to throw them back at her, one of the knives hit her leg and her arm ‘THATS NOT FAIR!!’ she stomped like a child, ‘she could be useful’, you heard from compress, you turned about to attack him but before you could shoji yelled, ‘IVE GOT THEM LETS GO’ you all looked at him in disbelief, he showed you the two pearls that were meant to be bakugou and tokoyami, letting out a sigh of relief you all went to the side of the entrance to the clearing, todoroki took your wrist pulling you back from a nomu who came through the trees you were about to walk into, ‘this way!!’ midoriya pointed at another way out ‘we’ve can’t let them get away’ dabi said about to unleash his flames, ‘no don’t, i thought i’d let them gloat a bit’ at his words you spun around, eyes widening in horror as he moved his mask and opened his mouth, two little beads, tokoyami and bakugou in them shone in the light, the two beads shoji had turned into ice, ‘is that my ice?’ todoroki shouted frustrated, compress was about to walk through the portal, just as you started running at them he got hit with aoyama’s laser beam causing one of the beads to fall out, the bead transformed into tokoyami and the other transformed into bakugou, but he was still in their grasp, running as fast as you could you grabbed his wrist just in time knowing he wouldn’t let you do this, you pulled him as hard as you could making him fall behind you as dabi grabbed you by the waist holding you firmly, ‘guess we’ll take this one instead’ he grinned.

the last you saw of bakugou for the next 2 days was him running at you before you got transported into the league of villains base. ‘y/n l/n huh, we originally wanted bakugou but you got in the way.. no matter, your power is still powerful if not more, the only problem is you’re level headed, you aren’t as.. explosive’ he drawled on. they didn’t hurt you but it was repetitive, constantly asking if you’ll join them.

when bakugou woke up he felt at peace for a couple seconds before remembering what happened, when he did fall asleep it’s because aizawa convinced him he needed to sleep at least a little, so here he was resting his head on a chair in the waiting room of the hospital, before he finally fell asleep he couldn’t help but blame himself, constant questioning his actions, ‘it’s my fault’... ‘what?’ aizawa looked at the boy with a raised brow, ‘it’s my fault they took them, they were meant to take me but they grabbed me and i couldn’t help them in time, i-it’s my fault’ aizawa looked at the blonde for a couple seconds before a small smile, undetectable to anyone looking at him crept on his face, ‘bakugou, i may be angry at those villains for taking them but i am not angry at you, they chose to save you blaming yourself won’t help anyone, besides we will get them back and in order to help you need to make rational decisions which you can’t do thinking these things’ he sat next to bakugou while telling him this, only loud enough for bakugou to hear, he put his hand on the blondes head as they sat there in a comforting silence, ‘besides you would’ve done the same for them’.

as soon as bakugou woke up kirishima lead him to midoriyas room, ‘what the hell am i doing here’ he said not having the energy to scream, ‘kaachan, before you leave.. we want to help get y/n back’. it didn’t take anything for kirishima to convince him, he was in once they told him the plan, despite the protests from his friends and classmates he had to, the feeling in his stomach and chest felt as if he was suffocating, he didn’t know how you were, whether you’re injured or not or whether you’re even alive and it was eating him up inside.

they watched momo and midoriya walk over as bakugou, kirishima and todoroki stood in silence. after some discussing and protests from iida they all got on the next train agreeing that as soon as things get violent they’ll get out of there, bakugou didn’t really care about that, he just needed you to be safe. ‘we need disguises!!’ after looking the part they slowly tiptoed around the building you’re meant to be in, ‘kirishima what can you see?’ he wobbled a bit before his eyes widened in horror, ‘g-god, it’s those nomu things’, they looked through the gaps of the window in fear, ‘wait shit y/ns not in there are they?!’ bakugou tried stretching his neck to see each corner of the warehouse, ‘don’t yell!! we have to be careful, i don’t think they’re in there i’m-’ before momo could finish her sentence the entire building shook making them fall to the ground, groaning they looked up to see mt lady and best jeanist, ‘they said all mights on the scene, they’ll be okay’ todoroki said relaxing a little. for some reason bakugou didn’t relax he couldn’t until he saw you safe but before he could even think he felt himself being pushed against the wall of the small alley, looking next to him to find the culprit he met 5 terrified faces telling him not to move, he listened in to what was going on, so this was the boss, it was never shigaraki, as they heard their pro hero jeanist get wounded and maybe even die they couldn’t move, they were in shock, until they heard you.

‘fuck, where.. am i’.. bakugou looked over the wall peering through it at the sound of your voice, iida pulled him back quickly ‘don’t, bakugou no’ he knew it’s a bad idea, just as he was about to peer again to see if you were injured a large thud made the ground shake, it was all might and while all might and all for one are fighting you’re in the middle of it, meaning all might can’t use all of his powers, everytime you screamed dodging toga or compress bakugou feared the worst, ‘is that all you’ve got’ he heared you say, you sounded tired and weak. his mind was running with things that haven’t happened, the worst thoughts taking over his head, ‘guys, i have a plan’, never had bakugou been more keen on listening to midoriya.

after telling everyone the plan and their roles they got ready, since you couldn’t fly they had to think of a way to get you off the ground into the air, the only person who can do that is bakugou, with momo’s quirk she created a bluetooth device that’ll let her talk to you, since you had a telekinesis quirk you can use your mind as well as your hands, so the league of villains used magne to magnetise you to the chair you were bound in, which means you still have magnetism in you, so momo used that to get the earphone in your ear. you felt a tingle in your ear but too occupied by fighting the villains you ignored it, ‘y/n please carry on fighting as usual don’t let this throw you, get as close as you can to the wall behind you, bakugou is going to grab your arm, let him and then he’s going to blast you guys into the sky where midoriya will catch you’.

and that’s exactly what happened, the plan could not have gone smoother, bakugou grabbed your arm and you both blasted into the sky, you watched large amount of ice form creating a sledge for midoriya and iida to use, midoriya grabbed your arm as you all flew past mt lady. you landed safely, ‘are you hurt’ the boy frantically checked, you smiled at him before wrapping your arms around your boyfriends neck, ‘the only injuries i have are from back at the camp, they have bandages around them but they haven’t been healed’ he sighed relaxing into your touch, ‘fucking hell dumbass, don’t ever do that again’ you hummed against him rubbing your nose against his neck smelling his caramel scent which you missed. ‘guys we should let the authority’s know they’re okay’ midoriya squeaked bizarred at bakugou’s affection.

after getting a hug from all the friends who insisted on saving you today, bakugou dragged you back to the hospital, insisting on carrying you, ‘y/n?!... i’m so glad you’re safe’ you’re not used to affection from aizawa, it isn’t something you were used to because he knows how to comfort you without using physical affection, but hugging you was a comfort he needed right now, knowing that you’re safe and he’s able to hold you comforted him greatly in this moment before you he didn’t have anyone to talk to after school or look after, whether he was used to affection or not didn’t matter to him here. ‘bakugou, midoriya, kirishima, momo, iida, todoroki, what you did was fucking stupid, but i’m thankful, thank you’ he mumbled a little as he ruffled your hair.

as soon as you were all back at the dorms you had a class movie night in honour of your return and safety, that didn’t mean bakugou didn’t insist on you cuddling him, for a guy who’s not one for pda he needed this. throughout the whole movie you kept your head on his shoulder.his head on yours lifting his head every now and then to place a kiss on your head, ‘i missed you so fucking much teddybear’.

A/N:

oh my fucking god, before we even talk about this fic i deleted this in the drags BY ACCIDENT but my amazing talented smart ass had it copy and pasted into a word count. sometimes i love myself i would’ve gone ape shit if this was gone forever purely because of tHE TIME i sPENT.

anyway rant over enjoy your days it’s 3am and i couldn’t sleep again 😽🥲🕳👨‍🦯

taglist : @blazedbakugou @todoroki-shoto-is-life @lulu

162 notes · View notes

teawaffles · 3 years

Text

The Fugitives from the Fire: Chapter 2

As the driver urged the horses on, Lestrade got straight to the point.

“You know about the attack on the department store the other day?”

Sherlock nodded.

“Yeah, it was all over the papers. It seems you were quite involved in this one?”

He’d said that with a slightly teasing tone, and Lestrade smiled wryly.

“You’re probably referring to the time I caught the men rushing out of the store, though strictly speaking, I can’t take credit for that……. Anyway, that’s not the issue here.”

“I bet, since the papers continued like this: ‘Bobbies make big blunder! The criminals they caught suddenly escape!’”

“…………”

Sherlock had said that in a rather grandiose way, and Lestrade’s expression turned grave.

“It’s exactly as you said…… Back then, various events led to half the criminals suffering burns. While they were being transported via carriage, one of the men began to show signs of distress, and the officer in the same carriage tried to render first aid. But the moment he did so, the criminal used that chance to flee.”

As he listened to the inspector’s story, a slight smile rose to Sherlock’s lips.

“What a kind public servant. But the papers said “criminals” with an ‘s’. It seems more than one person escaped, huh.”

Hearing that, Lestrade remained in a frown as he continued his explanation.

“……When that man fled the carriage, the other carriages behind it had to stop. Amid the chaos, another man also managed to escape. We did everything we could to track them down, but we ran out of time before we could find them. In the end, our ineptitude allowed two of the criminals to get away.”

Lestrade had said that last line with a pained look. To that, Sherlock narrowed his eyes, and simply hummed in acknowledgement. Due to an act of carelessness, two of the criminals they’d worked so hard to arrest had escaped: certainly, this was a pressing situation. But the parties involved were clearly doing some soul-searching, so there was no need for an outside party to reproach them any more than necessary.

Therefore, anticipating how the events from here on would play out, Sherlock expressed his own view on the situation.

“However, after an arduous search, the Yard managed to pinpoint the fugitives’ location. But before you could arrest them, something happened, and you all had no choice but to request my help…… Something like that?”

The detective’s powers of deduction left Lestrade completely astounded.

“I don’t know if I should be amazed, or whether I should’ve expected this…… Anyway, you’re right — but the search didn’t lead us to their location. This morning, we suddenly got an anonymous tip-off on where they were hiding. Officers have already been sent to the scene.”

“A tip-off? ……Hmm.”

Sherlock seemed to have taken a slight interest in that word, but he promptly urged the inspector to continue.

“The tip-off said that the two fugitives seemed to be working together; when the officers arrived at the specified location, it appears they quickly found and apprehended one of the men. But they couldn’t find the other fugitive, so right now, they’re interrogating the man they arrested about the location of his accomplice.”

Lestrade’s tone had been solemn. After nodding a few times, Sherlock shot him a question.

“You kept saying things like ‘seemed’ and ‘appears’; so, you haven’t been to the scene yet?”

“At the time, I was at headquarters. After receiving all kinds of reports, I sent my subordinate officers down to the scene first, and paid a visit to 221B to seek your help.”

Sherlock nodded firmly.

“Both fugitives were in the same place, but one was immediately discovered, while the other remains at large. Could it be that he just wasn’t there when the officers raided the place?”

“That’s one possibility, but we also don’t know his exact appearance. As I said earlier, the first man to escape had burn injuries up to his face, so he was wrapped in bandages to avoid exposing his wounds to the air. As such, we don’t even have a rough idea of his features. Nonetheless, the man who escaped afterward didn’t have any obvious injuries, so it appears we’ve found him in the area we were searching this time.”

“In other words, the one who got arrested was the one who took advantage of the chaos to escape……. But from what you said, he’s still being questioned at the place where he was caught, isn’t he? Why didn’t they take him to the station right away?”

“A valid point, but the place the fugitives chose to hide is a little troublesome.”

Lestrade grimaced as he’d said that, and Sherlock gazed at the townscape that sped past the carriage window. From those clues, he could tell where their carriage was heading.

“I see. The East End?”

As he’d predicted, Lestrade nodded gravely.

“It’s a dreadful place, located further into the slums.”

“A right bother, that is. Though, after the Jack the Ripper case, I thought you’d both managed to reach a compromise.”

A cynical smile rose to Sherlock’s face.

The case of the phantom serial killer that rocked Britain had, in the end, been resolved after both Scotland Yard and the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee joined forces. In reality, that had been an outcome orchestrated from behind the scenes by the Lord of Crime — though Sherlock was still keeping that fact to himself.

At the detective’s words, Lestrade shook his head in regret.

“About that: we’ve continued to cooperate with one another, but there’s still a sense of mutual hostility. Of course, there are those who have resolved to trust us, but the overall wariness towards the officers who patrol the borough just can’t be eliminated.”

The police, who worked to maintain public order, and the residents of the slums, which were a hotbed of crime: it was inevitable that friction would ensue between them. There would be some within the rookery who were abetting the criminals, and perhaps an innkeeper who was harbouring them in exchange for money.

In such a place, there was a good chance that while one of the criminals was taken to the police station, the other would end up getting away. Hence, it was necessary to elicit the other fugitive’s location from his accomplice right at the scene.

From that, Sherlock could understand why they didn’t even have the leeway to wait for John to return. In all likelihood, the officers at the scene were presently awaiting their arrival; on top of that, there would be a hostile crowd surrounding the policemen, making it dangerous to keep them waiting. As such, it was imperative to solve the case and leave as soon as they could, before any unnecessary trouble was stirred up.

Once he’d understood the predicament the Yard was in, Sherlock spoke up with a smile.

“I’m well aware this is an emergency. So you want me to be present at the interrogation, and use the information obtained to find the other fugitive as fast as possible.”

“Exactly. Thank you for catching my meaning so quickly……. Though, it is a little different from the mysteries you love.”

Lestrade looked a little pained as he said that, and Sherlock cocked his head slightly, as if he was in thought.

“Certainly, it doesn’t sound like the kind of case I’d go out of my way to pursue…… But from my experience, the simpler a case looks, the less easily it gets resolved. I might just find an interesting ‘riddle’ here, so for now, I’ll just go along with you.”

As the conversation reached a pause, the carriage stopped in a street within the slums, and the two men promptly got off. Since the path up ahead was both narrow and complicated, it seemed they would travel the rest of the way on foot.

At present, it was just past noon. But in this warren-like district, it was dark enough that it seemed as though dusk had already fallen. Glancing left and right, they could see vagrants sitting listlessly by the roadside, as well as children clothed in dirty garments. Occasionally, a horrid smell would assault the very depths of their nostrils, and something bitter would rise up from the pits of their stomachs.

This place was almost hopelessly uninhabitable. As that hollow thought surfaced in Lestrade’s mind, in complete contrast, Sherlock’s expression remained unchanged as he continued walking.

“It’s always a labyrinth here, huh. I know some guys who’re familiar with this place — why don’t we get them to show us the way? Though, we might get ripped off for a fair bit of money.”

As Sherlock made that proposal, the intelligent grins of the Baker Street Irregulars came to mind — but Lestrade promptly turned it down.

“It’s alright: I know the way. It should be just a little further up——”

Breaking off mid-sentence, Lestrade stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes fixed forward. Puzzled, Sherlock followed the inspector’s gaze — and he, too, froze where he stood.

“……Is it, that?”

Lestrade did not answer.

Before their eyes, behind a row of derelict buildings, a plume of black smoke billowed. At the same time, they noticed a faint smell of soot permeating the air.

“No way…… You’ve got to be kidding me.”

All the colour had drained from Lestrade’s face, and the moment he mumbled that, he broke into a sprint. Sherlock too felt an uneasy premonition; gnashing his teeth, he rushed to chase after him.

The two men arrived at their destination in less than a minute, but it seemed they were still too late.

As Lestrade stood stock-still, before his eyes, the building they were supposed to conduct the interrogation in had been engulfed in flames.

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #the girl who sees rainbows

57 notes · View notes

citadelspires · 3 years

Note

P1 - Given how great you're track record's been for doing hypothetical interactions of Amphibia kids with the Duck kids and Owl House kids, let's try doing the Duck kids meeting the Owl House kids and who they'd like the best. I'll exclude Violet for this for the sake of evenening things out 5 to 5. I'd assume Luz would get along best with Dewey (both jump into adventure), King with Louie (could see em teaming up for a scheme), Willow with Huey (eh, more leftover interaction but can work)

Screenshot of second half of the ask provided. Text: P2 Gus with Webby (would totally ask each other lots of questions about their species), and Amity with Lena (both got abusive figures they stood up to and would totally talk about their crushes on Luz and Webby LOL). Would love to see you take on Duck kids and Owl House kids interactions.

First of all I’m very pleased to hear you find my track record on these posts good, they’ve been really fun to write and it makes me really happy people like them! Second I am so sorry it’s taken so long to get to this ask, it’s a really in depth one and it took a long time to write, I hope you’ll find it was worth the wait!

Aight! Oh and one last thing real quick before I get into it. I hope you wouldn’t mind me adding Violet back in, partially due to the fact I love her, but mostly because there’s actually another owl house character I think works significantly better with Louie than anyone else and I really want the chance to talk about that. Saving that one for last hehe. This’ll be another long one, writing below the cut.

Luz and Webby So I do like a lot of the possible interactions brought up by your suggested grouping but my mind went in a few different directions. I’ll start with Luz, who would fit in best with another excitable adventuring partner, as pointed out, but I think the best fit for her in that regard would actually be Webby. While Dewey would no doubt get along great with Luz, there’s a special element to the potential relationship between Luz and Webby that really elevates the potential of their friendship to another level, that being: they both want to eat a hamburger.

An aspect of Webby I wish the later seasons of the show got into a little more, but is definitely something I would consider a core part of her character, is the fact that she got held up in the mansion her whole childhood, with no opportunities to interact with the world around her, have all the adventures she wanted, and most importantly to just be seen as the kid she wanted to be. And while Luz was technically able to go out into the world, the place she found wasn’t one that was willing to see her, or give her any of the chances she longed for. Both Webby and Luz fully understand that feeling of being trapped in your own life, of finally getting the chance to break out and just doing your best to make the most of it. I think there’s a lot the two could gain from spending some time together.

(Also, to borrow the bit about gushing about their crushes but from the other end, these two would totally get sidetracked talking about their respective crushes and also trying to play wingman for each other. It’s a massive comic disaster in both cases, but somehow both Lena and Amity manage to find it endearing).

Amity and Violet Okay wait lemme explain. While the two of them don’t have a whole lot in common at first glance, I think they would genuinely get along extremely well. While a lot of Amity’s focus on school came at the force of her parents, you cannot honestly expect me to believe that girl isn’t a studious nerd on her own anyway. Heck even outside the realm of studies she throws her full dedication into literally every single thing she does. Remind you of anyone? Beyond just being extremely intelligent Violet is clever and ready for anything. She takes everything in stride and always has a plan, she can go from “we were sleeping over and you said everybody get on the plane, so we got on the plane” to “I brought an axe” in a minute flat.

I like to think the two of them would have a mutual respect for each other based on their respective intellects upon first meeting, but as they become closer friends they find they can move from more serious respect to a casual enjoyment of each other. I would go as far as to say that both of these characters really value dependability in a friend, and that they each provide a lot of that. To wrap back around to the stuff about intelligence I think Violet could provide a lot of insight to Amity as far as showing her that pursuing studies and academic heights of her own volition can be something that she can just do because she wants to, and that’s no excuse for unhealthy parental relationships. Getting along so well with someone like Violet only to see that her parents are actually really loving and supportive, that would be really eye-opening for Amity I think. For Violet’s part she could get a lot of help from Amity as far as her pursuit of the secrets of magic goes. I suspect Amity would be much more interested in the study of her magic than Violet would be able to get Lena to tolerate lol.

Bonus Round: Amity would absolutely be a senior junior woodchuck and she would love it you cannot convince me otherwise. She starts quoting the JWGB around the owl house kids and they all look at her like she’s crazy.

Lena and Willow I feel like this one might seem a little out there at first but trust me on this one. Initially Lena doesn’t think too much of Willow, being as close as she is to Webby she knows liking flowers and cute things doesn’t mean Willow is automatically to be taken lightly but she feels like she’s got a good read on her that she generally prefers to avoid trouble and turns down opportunities for violence, which isn’t really Lena’s deal. Over time Lena figures she was right about her first impressions as Willow doesn’t seem to take many opportunities to expose some hidden power, even when Lena knows the people around her kinda deserve it.

She learns to adjust her opinion when she finally does get the chance to see Willow in action and realizes that girl is more powerful than any of the other kids she’s met in the boiling aisles bar none(yes this is my genuine opinion of willow if you don’t think she could kick your ass you’re wrong). It’s at that moment where she starts to pay more attention to Willow and notices a lot more of the strength she puts into all the little things, how much she cares for everyone and everything, and it does a great deal to show Lena that maybe having super strong magic powers isn’t mutually exclusive with being kind and gentle. And maybe gentle isn’t her thing but still, it’s nice to know.

For Willow’s part she’s just happy to make more friends. Especially if the opportunity arises, as I like to think it would, when they’re close enough friends, that Lena would start to hint around asking questions about how Willow remains so casual and nice with the ability to do so much damage, and Willow takes the chance to help Lena figure out her magic a bit more, and learn how to better appreciate it as an aspect of herself she doesn’t have to be scared of. (I mean come on Lena never really learned how to do any of it except barely kind of from Magica of all people she could really use something like that).

Huey and Gus Now there are some certain things about Gus that would drive Huey absolutely nuts. His lack of primary and reliable sources for any of his information being a big one, but at the end of the day I think he’d enjoy Gus’ desire to learn in the first place. Gus would probably be a little dubious about Huey’s “sources” and “citations” but if it helped him get more info on the human realm he’d certainly go for it in the end. In that way the two balance each other out pretty well. Gus is studious and intelligent but he’s a little off the wall, he’s got a big creative streak, and he’s really excitable. Huey is really really good at facts and analysis but he lacks the strength in imagination that Gus has. Huey is able to take all the grandiose concepts Gus is able to think up and help make them actually happen. Gus has that specific brand of an adventurers soul matched up with the fact he’s not actually the type to get into danger and fights, meaning he’s able to drag Huey out of his comfort zone a little and help him reach new heights with his mind that his struggles with creativity prevent him from reaching, while managing to not make him feel like he’s actually in danger. I actually believe the two of them together could get some really incredible stuff done.

What I’m saying is that with Huey’s help Gus could absolutely complete his tunnels under Hexside.

Dewey and King Now this, this is the pair who would go incredibly well together, at the detriment of literally everyone around them. If there is one person King “I Will Rule Everything” Clawthorne should not be exposed to its Dewey Duck. Within minutes of meeting each other the two of them would immediately have so many bad ideas. Between Dewey’s insistence on being the best and most daring adventurer while putting his name on everything and going down in history & King’s trying to rule everything and everyone, the attempts to raise the stakes would be constant and the two would spend literal hours endlessly trying to one-up each other. All in one day they search for legendary treasure, discover an entirely new civilization, try to take over said civilization, create a new species just to name it after themselves, and build statues of themselves in the middle of Bonesbourough. And that’s all before lunch.

Louie Here it is. The one I waited till the very end for out of sheer excitement. I even kept the second name out of the heading thing. That’s how secretive I’m trying to be about this. See, there’s one character in the owl house that works so well with Louie it’s practically canon. Their interactions have so much potential, they each bring so much to the table, I just couldn’t Not talk about it. And yeah, I know this ask was specifically asking about the owl house and ducktales kids, but I just couldn’t resist talking about the relationship between Louie and Eda.

A con artist from another world who was so successful she became nationally famous? There’s no way Louie would pass up an opportunity like that. For his part I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already managed to set up another underworld identity in the boiling aisles, or at the very least that Eda could totally have been to the ducktales realm and heard of his one there.

Either way I’m convinced the two of them would start planning a heist as soon as they figure out who each other are. Eda is a little prideful and wants to show this kid he can’t out-con her, but Louie knows what he’s doing just as much. Honestly with the two of them combined Eda wouldn’t have to worry about losing her stand for a long time. Over the course of their planning and seeing Louie in action Eda begrudgingly gains some respect for the kid, and while Louie was definitely just using her as a learning/profit opportunity at first, he’s pretty susceptible to getting attached.

For Louie, it’s the fact that she actually respects him for being good at what he does. Even back with his family who all love and care about him and all that he still feels like most of them don’t really get what he does or see what’s special about him, so having someone who made a whole life of it be even a little proud of him feels really nice.

And of course, at the end of their heist when they finally have the money in hand, and Eda just casually hands over his half, he stares at her like she’s crazy.

“You’re just.. Giving it to me?!”

“Well, yeah. That was the deal wasn’t it kid? I mean if you really want I definitely have a few ideas for it.”

“No! Uh, no, thanks, I’ll keep it. It’s just that you really remind me of someone, I guess I was expecting something else.”

31 notes · View notes

bearseungmin · 3 years

Text

Exploiting (M) TEASER! | ksm + lmh

In a lifestyle where everyone works for a fancy car, big penthouse, and enough employees around you to keep you taken care of, you're stuck in the latter. Deep within working as one of the largest corporation owner's secretary and his part-time proxy, Minho is less chat and more 'get-it-done'. But when his lesser known objective becomes your new-found power due to your second job requiring you to balance the lone wolf of the industry, Seungmin - also known as Minho's original business partner - as another boss, things grow heated. Two faceless men claiming you as their gem, work from nine to five becomes your own, personal inferno.

pairing: boss! minho x proxy! secretary! gender-neutral! reader x boss! seungmin genre: love-triangle! au, romance, angst, smut word count: tbd [warnings] may include: mature content, sexual content, power exchange, dom/sub tones, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mutual pining, controlling tendencies, manipulation, affairs, additional warnings will be listed release date: tbd

send me an ask showing/with your user if you would like to be added to the taglist for this fic!

prologue teaser under the cut!

prologue.

Hair neatly placed, silk tie done perfectly, hands clasped at his waist as the sole of his shoe swayed him back and forth in the office chair behind the obnoxiously large desk, Lee Minho has a scheme in his mind. Locked away, so far in that you could see the glistening sparkle in his eyes but not see the telling sign he usually gave away on his face when he was up to something; you wanted him to speak more than you wanted him to tell.

“You know I never ask for anything from you that’s more than I know you can handle.” Voice deep like an echo in a dark cave, Minho’s smooth lips moved with his words. “But this task is a little more-” Stopping to pause, his eyes shifted left—an indication that whatever was about to leave his mouth is far more barring than what you had anticipated. Considering his casual talk just this morning, all of this seemed to be a normal meeting. “-unravelling to me. It’s essentially a risk, something that may or may not tie loose ends for me and my life.”

Your mind stopped his words in place as if time halted all together. Sitting before the man, who usually subjected you to being below him - a boss's control and normal habits despite his gentleman ways - he finally hinted something personal. Words from his lips were always only casual instructions, common office talk, and sometimes genuine concern for the dark circles forming under your eyes from lack of sleep. But never something that could give him away.

The thing about this world—a career, a boss, a coworker, a home, a lifestyle: they’re all just evanescent. Fleeting glimpses that can be taken from you by a single printed and signed page stating you’re being let go. Minho declared you his secretary for two reasons: you’re reliable and sturdy, and you keep your mouth shut no matter what is heard or seen. But here you sat dumbfounded that he was pulling you into a situation considered personal.

One note about Minho, he hardly talks about himself.

“Sir, you know I trust that you wouldn’t overwhelm me.” Voice smooth and calm, he knew you had to fight your teeth from chattering and hands from shaking due to the nervousness in your body. You were always the same around him, collected but on edge as if he’d fire you on the spot for having a brief moment of human nature.

“Hey.” His dark eyes were like pools of honey from the sunset gleaming into the open windows of the office building, floors up from life and inside his lonely office away from all other staff and coworkers. “Be frank with me here. If this is already getting to you.” “I can handle it.” Sturdy, the reliable attitude you held since day one broke past your shaking lips. “Think I can’t?”

His left brow rose in tandem with his arched form floating back into his chair, continuing the spin on the sole of his shoe as he stared you down like a mosaic painting. Minho, a charismatic man with enough going on in his head to make anyone lose their marbles, smirked like he had strings connected to his fingers that he could use to lift and move your limbs for you. A puppet master, he had long had you connected to him.

“I must request that you go meet someone for me. You won’t meet him officially, but the business will still be dealt through them to him.” He sat forward again, angling and sliding a single manilla folder across his wooden desk before you. “The contents are confidential as always, so don’t go snooping.”

As if you would, he knew the words leaving his mouth were just a broken record to you by now.

“A proxy.” You stated, his smirk only growing into a grin.

“Clever as always.” Whispered, this side of Minho was more telling than any other. He whispered words to you instead of keeping them in his head, only doing this when it is you and he alone in a sealed room. He showed emotions, pretended his status doesn’t inflate his ego as much as it does, and even showed you gratitude.

“You know I trust you with my life.”

“As I do mine with you, Sir.” The sound of the last word sent a visible shutter up and down his body, all seen by your eyes as his freshly dry-cleaned, white shirt crinkled with his sudden movements.

“Then it’s official. You’re on my side for this.” He nodded, reclasping his hands together as his palms clapped a single mantra. “And I expect you to do the same as always.”

Not the first time around, nor the second: you had been between Minho and other companies for the duration of the service you held with the man. Position meant to be singular upon your application stating the job description, you had wriggled your way into a higher placement so simply. Higher than his own coworkers, he held more respect for you than almost everyone else. And even more: you as a person.

“You’ll keep yourself out of danger. Remember what I’ve always told you, and get out of there and come back to me if anything seems off.”

“Keep myself level-headed, I remember.”

Minho told you it all before he sent you out to the wolves. Those he sends you to as a proxy could steal you from him with a single glimpse, rudely or casually maneuver you into working for them. Trick you into giving him up, take you for their own, or use you to get to him. A continuous circle of danger, all for the man to give you the power to hold your head up high and know they can truly do no damage. Minho wouldn’t allow it.

“I take it, this is going to be messy no matter how we handle it?” Your voice caught his ears as he nodded, blinking slowly before keeping his eyes gazing into your own.

“Either way, darling.” He was the only man you ever let call you pet names. “You’ll learn to trust him as much as I did.”

#skz imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz fic #skz fanfic #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfic #mature #seungmin smut #lee know smut #minho smut #seungmin imagines #minho imagines #lee know imagines #please i'm only 3k into writing this fic and both me and the story are a mess bear with me #it's in process

71 notes · View notes

bamberry · 3 years

Text

Let the Mayhem Begin || Chapter 1 - Revealing Truths

Adrien Agreste x Marinette Dupain Cheng Pairing

Summary: When Chat Noir reveals his secret identity to Alya, all she can do is painfully watch the two make an absolute mess of themselves. But who said she couldn’t make it worth her while.

Ao3

The Beginnings of a story are the most important.

———————————————————————

It was few weeks after Marinette, her best friend, who couldn’t even get a single word out around a certain blonde, who often fell or bumped into a number of objects and people, told her that she was Ladybug, the hero Alya very much admired.

It had taken a few days and a sleepover to adjust to the fact that Marinette was secretly a renowned super heroine who was fighting every day to protect the city of Paris from a crazy butterfly man.

So when Marinette told her that Chat Noir and Ladybug didn’t know each other’s own identities she was quite surprised.

“But you guys are like the greatest duo in history?”

Marinette then went onto explaining that of the consequences and possibilities of Chat Noir knowing who she was. Alya had to be the one to reassure her that Chat Noir would never do anything to try and hurt Ladybug or Marinette for that matter. Alya fought alongside the guy a few times, if anything it’d be the last thing he’d do.

But nonetheless, Alya too had to respect Marinette’s choice.

“I’m going to have to tell him I told someone about my identity.” She tells Alya.

“Why?” Alya asked.

“He’s deserves to know that I told someone. He’s my partner and in order to protect Paris the best we can he has to know that I told someone else not because I didn’t trust him. But because I did what I knew what best. I have to trust that he’ll understand that.”

Alya really didn’t need Marinette to tell her twice that she was Ladybug. It was clear as day.

“You’re too good for this world Mari.” Alya pulled Marinette into a hug. Of course the blue-pigtailed girl returned the hug.

When they pulled apart Alya could tell something was still on Marinette’s mind.

“What is it?”

“It’s just-does that mean Chat Noir can tell someone who he is too? I mean, it only makes sense. It’d be fair. But what if he tells his identity to the wrong person? What if everyone, including Hawk Moth finds out? I couldn’t stand the fact if Chat Noir had to give up his miraculous because of that.”

“Marinette.” Alya grabbed her shoulders to calm the girl down,”I think Chat Noir is perfectly capable of making that choice for himself. He might be silly sometimes but you know he’s capable of making the right decisions. I’m sure he wouldn’t think about telling someone like Chloe or Lila.”

Speaking of Lila, Alya was quick to apologize to Marinette and is now currently plotting Lila’s demise, however unhero like that may sound.

“What if Chat Noir told you?” The question caused Alya to lose her train of thought,”What?”

“Think about it, you’re the first person to ever resist Hawkmoths power. If anything his secret would be most safest with you. Then there’d be no worry about our identities getting out.”

Alya looked at her completely surprised. As much as Alya would love to know Chat’s identity, it was not their decision to make. Plus Alya didn’t know if she could currently handle knowing another secret identity. Or maybe she just end up exploding with excitement

“Marinette, that’s something Chat Noir has to be able to decide for himself. “

She sighed,”You’re right Alya. But it wouldn’t hurt to give him that option. Regardless, I’m telling him tonight during patrol. “

Alya patted her best friends back,”It’ll be alright. I’m sure.”

“I just hope he doesn’t hate me Alya. Chat Noir has always wanted for us to truly know each other. I won’t lie, a part of me always refuses out of what he might think of my civilian self.”

“Marinette you’re literally one of the most kind hearted souls I’ve ever even met. You’re brave, strong-headed. If anything, Chat Noir would just love you even more.” Alya said with a mischievous smirk.

“Alya!!” Marinette fumed with red.

—

And so, that’s how Chat Noir ended up at Alya’s window later that night.

“Chat Noir?”

“Hey Alya,” Chat looked around to make sure there was nobody had been watching,”This isn’t a bad time is it?”

“Not at all. So what’s one of paris’s favorite superheroes doing here at this hour?”

Chat Noir sat on the window sill as he watched Alya,”Ladybug told me she told someone her secret identity.”

Alya figured much already. She can see how it seemed a bit upset by it.

“At first I wasn’t really thrilled. I had always wanted mi’lady to be the one to tell me who she was first. I thought it was because she didn’t trusted me.” Chat Noir said still looking rather glumly. Alya didn’t say a word, instead she let him continue.

“I won’t lie and say I really hurt by it. But then she told me she told you.” He said,”Which is kind of ironic because I couldve sworn you were the one who owned the blog that was made to figure out who we were.” He chuckled.

“But I thought about it, and I realized mi’lady is under a lot of pressure for being the new guardian. I get how stressful it must of been for her. But I also understand why she still couldn’t tell me. I don’t hate her for it though.”

“You must really love Ladybug.” Alya said to him.

“I do.” He replied looking back out at the city,”So when she me told that I could tell someone I trusted if I needed to. I wasn’t really sure who I could go to. Or if I even wanted to. I mean sure, I have some friends who come to mind, and they’re great and all but ..” He stopped for a few moments before continuing,”But I don’t really know if I’ve even shown them the real me yet.”

Alya felt heartbroken for the superhero. Did he really have no one who knew about his real self besides Ladybug? Did he really not tell those annoying cat puns with to his friends? Someone he could turn to? A part of her just wanted to hug him and give the reassurance that he wasn’t alone in how he felt. But she withheld.

“So when Ladybug suggested I could tell you. I was conflicted? Not because I don’t like you or anything like that , because you’re a great person. But if I’m being honest, I don’t know how’d you feel about that.”

Was Chat Noir really asking how Alya would feel if she knew his identity too. Would it be too much for her to handle and cause her to meltdown? Would she feel suddenly more burdened with another secret and possibly run away? Was he seriously asking her after all he just shared how she would feel?

“How I felt?” Alya asked dumbfounded.

“Ladybug trusted you with her secret for a reason. I don’t want to be the reason you might feel overwhelmed. You’re currently the reason why Ladybug is doing better and I don’t want to take that from her because I shared my identity with you.”

For the first time in a while, Alya didn’t know what to say and for a while she remained silent. Even after it all, it was still all for Ladybug.

Alya mentally cursed in her head and made a note to subtlety open Mari’s eyes to the possibility of Chat Noir.

“Alya?” Chat asked. Apparently Alya had been silent for a little too long.

“Sorry. It’s a lot to think about.” Alya said,”But you know what, I’m strong too. I know I can handle whatever you guys throw at me.”

“So you’re saying I can trust you?” Chat Noir’s tail seemed to move excitedly for a moment. It’s almost like he expected to be rejected.

“Of course you can, and to prove that. I’ll let you in on a secret of mine.” Alya said as she put her hands on her hips,”I’m Rena Rogue.”

Chat Noir’s eyes widened as he slowly forms a bright smiles on his face,”I should’ve known Ladybug would’ve chosen you for the fox miraculous. But I’m glad it was you.”

They both laughed and talked about the various battles they fought together in for a while until a comfortable silence fell between them.

“Alya.” Chat said,”I want to tell you who I am. But I want you to know something before I do.” He said,”I know you. In real life I mean. Like I know you in person. As in we’re already mutual friends.”

Alya eyebrows arched a bit, to say that enough to make Alya start thinking of the potential candidates. Ever since LadyBlog took off, Alya did have some fame to her name so she wouldn’t have been surprised if she had met his civilian form during an interview or something of the sort. But to say that they were already friends?

Chat Noir took a deep breath,”Okay I won’t lie I’m a bit nervous.” He laughed hugging his baton protectively.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do this today if you don’t want to. “

“No I do. It’ll be fine I think.” He said as Alya stared at him intensely.

“Uh alya.. you’re making me a bit more nervous.” He said embarrassingly. Alya shook her head,”Right sorry sorry just continue.” She said letting her unintentional threatening gaze ease.

“Okay.” The air thickened around as the tension increased.

“Okay but if you like hate me after th-“

“Oh my god CHAT NOIR.” Alya said almost laughing at his sudden nervousness.

“Can you? Turn around?” He asked fiddling with his fingers.

Alya did just that. He reminded her of Marinette around Adrien. Except Chat Noir could at least get a few words out instead of none.

She heard a deep breath

“Plagg, claws in.” He said. It was silent before she heard another voice,”You got any cheese on you?”

“Oh Plagg, you and your stinky cheese can wait.” The voice said.

Alya turned around and when she tells you nothing couldve prepared her for this. She means absolutely nothing.

“You-“ Alya choked out. Her mind racing literally everywhere. “But-“

Adrien scratched his neck and chuckled nervously,”Guess the cats out of the bag.”

“Oh my god.” Alya was in complete disbelief. Or was she? It slowly started to come together. He constant sneaking away. The way he had never been akumatized and was never seen together in the same room. The way he looked like Chat Noir when she for fun drew a mask on him that day she showed Marinette.

She froze. Marinette is Ladybug. Chat Noir is Adrien. Chat Noir loves Ladybug. Ladybug is Marinette. Marinette loves Adrien. Adrien is Chat Noir.

These idiots were in fucking love with each other and they didn’t even know. Alya wanted to just scream.

“Alya?”Adrien asked worriedly,”You havent said anything in a while? Are you disappointed?”

Alya’s spiritual form slapped her in the back of the head,”No!” She almost shouted. Adrien stared at her like she had gone mad.

“No! Not at all! Just surprised but not really? Does that make sense?”

“You’re not surprised ?” Adrien asked her curiously.

“It’s complicated.” Alya admits,”But I appreciate you sharing your secret with me Adrien. You can trust me.”

“Thanks Alya, it feels nice to have another friend.”

“Of course.”

And with that, the two spend the next hour or so just talking. About being Adrien and about being Chat Noir. It was clear Adrien was still pretty closed off about his Adrien life but Alya didn’t want to push him to say something he wasn’t ready to say.

When Chat Noir left Alya practically let out small a small screech ,”THEYRE literally GOING TO END UP KILLING ME WHEN THEY FIND OUT.”

“WHY ARE THEY MAKING IT SO DAMN COMPLICATED.” Alya banged her head against wall.

But then a thought occurred. A very dangerous but fun one.

She chuckled evilly to herself in her room as her forehead turned a bright red.

Alya knew these two would never get anywhere and she of course has sworn to secrecy. But no one said that she couldn’t help out the oblivious lovebirds. Of course she’d be discreet.

Her laughing became ridiculous, one full with mischievous intent. She plopped herself at her desk and began typing away at her computer.

Operation Cat-Bug| . . .

Alya saw the sun rise by the time she stepped back from her computer. A sight to behold. Sure, in need of a little proof reading but nonetheless she had it all planned down in her computer. She nodded in approval as she hit save. School was going to start in about an hour.

She proudly stood up from her chair, legs aching and sore but she did not feel an ounce of tiredness. It was the opposite actually. Excitement jittered through her.

Let the Mayhem Begin

—

omg hi! I’m starting this series. I don’t know exactly how many chapters it will be but I don’t blame on having it be more than 10. Or maybe who knows, I’ll just go where the wind takes me.

ao3 link

I promise they’ll get longer this is the introduction *wink face*

Next Chapter: School Days

74 notes · View notes