#a little revenge for making her job harder when he decides it's a good idea to take the only secret tank/truck they have out for all to see | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝𝘐𝘐 - 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙚) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

(𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘝) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝𝘐)

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || the finale.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 3.5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || fluff, angst, implied smut, domestic goodness, more EMOTIONS!!!

six months ago...

Bucky wrung his hands a few times before knocking on your door, feeling his heart beat a little faster when he could hear the sounds of your footsteps on the other side. He'd been dreaming of a day like this for so long— the day he finally acted on this secret obsession he had, the day he stopped fantasizing and started realizing— but all this time, part of him had never really thought he'd go through with it. I mean, there's a pretty big difference between jerking off to videos of dominant women and actually getting spanked, slapped, and choked by a dominatrix after paying her an insane amount of money per hour.

But frankly, Bucky needed a big difference from what he'd been doing. He'd been alone for a little too long, he needed someone else's touch before he lost his mind. And he knew that he needed something more substantial than a hook-up, someone who wouldn't expect him to be dominant at all. Even in a kink-less, vanilla hook-up, there’s still an onus of dominance, that’s what Bucky had realised. He’s still supposed to initiate, to guide, to be fully in control… and he hates how it feels to be in control. He’s not used to it, and it doesn’t feel right, and it just makes him sure he’ll do something wrong. So here he was, standing at your door, hoping you’d take away his freedom to do something wrong.

The latch turned and you opened it.

Fuck.

You looked great. Too great, almost overwhelming. Even better than the pictures on your website.

You looked so much softer than the women he saw whenever he searched up femdom porn (yes, that was pretty much the first thing he did once he figured out google— thankfully he had also figured out incognito mode), but your presence was twice as commanding. Your eyes scanned over him quickly and your face stayed annoyingly stoic.

You invited him in; And since then, you’d had him wrapped around your finger.

Even knowing to a certain extent what he was getting into, he could’ve never prepared for how quickly he’d fall for you. Not that he was exactly new to the feeling, but he thought guilt might eat him alive: because of course he felt awful for developing real feelings for you. You were just doing your job and he was falling into the same trap that probably every dumbass client fell into.

Or maybe they actually knew what they were doing and understood how to separate fantasy from reality. He couldn’t decide which one was worse.

He spent a few hours trying to decide while staring up at his ceiling— certainly a better way to spend the time than being social or taking care of unfinished business, right?

But leave it to you to change everything with just three words. Make me yours.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about those words— or about the way you said them— since the moment you spoke them. He hadn’t stopped changing his mind on if he could really believe you were his or not. He wanted to, more than anything; and in those brief moments he did, he felt a joy that he had no idea what to do with.

He frowned as he turned his back towards the mirror, looking over his shoulder to watch his finger run over the fading scars on his back. They’d be gone for good in less than a week, but he knew you had left plenty of permanent marks on him— just unfortunately not those that anyone else could see. He liked the way these scars looked under your fingertips much more than his; he liked everything about being in your arms.

Since you’d texted him to ask if you could have a serious talk with him soon, he worried he wouldn’t get to feel that again. In fact, nothing worried him more.

He was typically antsy as he waited for you to answer the door— he had been since that very first time so long ago— but this felt entirely different: not as jittery, but a thousand times more anxious.

At first he’d been wishing you’d answer it right away, but then he heard your bolt turn and panic landed on him like a dangling anvil dropping on a cartoon character. Suddenly the last thing he wanted was for you to open that door, to be standing there looking all perfect and shit, to smile at him and greet him and invite him in. He didn’t want it; he couldn’t take it.

But you did it all anyway, though it was obviously and immediately a new situation entirely, compared to every other time you’d done it.

You were dressed differently, still formal but definitely toned down. Nothing sexual, at least not objectively. And your smile, though it still made his heart skip a beat just like always, was noticeably softer and maybe a bit sadder.

He stepped in past you, and you surprised him by sitting next to him on the couch rather than across from him on your chair. “Do you want, like, water or anything?” you asked, breaking the silence for a moment.

“No, I’m fine,” he nodded.

Bucky had gotten pretty good at silence these past few years; it didn’t bother him, in fact he barely even noticed it. But this silence made him remember why everyone else hated silence so much: it was heavy and thick and made him overcome with the need to blurt something out. “Everyone calls me Bucky,” he finally admitted. You smiled.

“Do you want me to call you that?” you asked.

He considered your question, trying to imagine you saying it. “I… I used to think it would be better, but now I like the way you say ‘James’ too much.”

“If you thought it would be better, why did you ask me to call you James?” you pressed.

“Because I didn’t want you to know who I was.”

“I know who you are,” you informed him. “I always knew.”

He swallowed as the pit formed in his gut, glancing away to hide from your gaze. “You did a good job of… of pretending you didn’t. You never seemed scared of me.”

“Because I wasn’t. And I’m not.”

He couldn’t imagine how; but then again, if there was any truly fearless woman, he figured it would be you. “I thought you’d beat me up better if you knew what I’d done,” he admitted, almost smiling but not exactly feeling very happy. “Thought you might want… revenge.”

“Surprised that didn’t make you want to tell me.”

He laughed a bit at that. “Yeah, fair enough.”

You asked him a very different question next, one that made his throat suddenly dry: "Have you ever had something that was all your own?" you spoke gently.

"Not for a long time…" he trailed off, letting his eyes unfocus as he stared down at your floor before finding the courage to look up at you again. “Is that what you wanna be?” he asked, already wishing he hadn’t said anything in case it was too presumptuous, but you just smiled back at him in a shy sort of way.

“Something like that,” you mitigated.

His eyes darted around your face— from your eyes glancing away, to your lips that you gnawed on for a moment, to the little crease between your brows— and he found himself leaning forward before he even realized it. “Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly.

You didn’t answer, you just kissed him first; he was so relieved that you did it, too, that you took control so easily and just let him melt into your kiss. As good as it felt to submit to you, he enjoyed the new freedom he had in this moment as well— the freedom to reach up and grab your waist, to brush his hand over your hair, to tilt his head and deepen the kiss further.

It was hard to define exactly where it went from innocent to sensual to sexual, but by the time you were straddling his lap and running your fingers through his hair, it was definitely sexual.

“I want you,” you breathed against his lips.

“Have me,” he offered immediately, “I’m yours. Always was.”

He breathed in sharply when you moved your hips just right to rub up against his swelling cock through his jeans, making him grip your waist a bit harder. “Good boy,” you whispered. “You’re so good, James.”

He believed you this time, finally.

For your first real date, he took you to Coney Island. Not the classiest affair, and he promised to take you somewhere really nice next, but you didn’t mind. It was jarring to see you in casual clothes for the first time, something summer-y and light which was everything opposite to how he was used to seeing you; but he liked it, and he liked knowing a secret about you as you walked through a crowd of carnival-goers that were none the wiser.

He walked you through the fair and explained how he remembered it, showed you the few things that hadn’t changed much. He bought you a hot dog and even won you a prize at one of the games; that one where you throw a baseball and it measures your pitch speed? Yeah, it’s rigged, but he pitched lefty and it seemed to even everything out. (It’s not cheating, okay? It’s beating them at their own game, literally.)

So with a massive teddy under one arm and his waist wrapped in your other, you two walked through the winding pier, under twinkling lights and over walkways towering over the ocean below. And then you fooled around a bit on the ferris wheel. It was the ideal Coney Island experience, for sure.

Bucky didn’t have a ton of friends, per se, but he was excited for you to meet them. Meeting friends was certainly a step, though; hopefully a step you were willing to take, but he didn’t want to ask you to do it without at least having a title to introduce you with.

“I want you to be my girlfriend,” he finally told you.

“I kinda thought I already was,” you laughed.

And so, with more pride than he might have ever had for anything before, Bucky finally got to take you to meet everyone (‘everyone’ being a mix of his friends and his coworkers, who may or may not be his friends because he couldn’t always tell) and say “I want you guys to meet my girlfriend.”

Of course you were amazing with all of them; you continued that tactful “I know who you are but I’m pretending I don’t to be nice” thing that you’d started with him, and everyone seemed to appreciate it. You cracked a couple jokes, everyone laughed.

You lied about how you and Bucky met, or at least answered very strategically. Everyone at least pretended to believe you.

Afterwards, they all said something about how great you were or about how lucky he was. The only thing he ever said back was “I know.”

Now that he could kiss you without breaking any rules, he never wanted to stop. He hardly ever did, actually. He kissed you basically whenever he could get the chance; you two didn’t even go out much anymore because he wasn’t very good at keeping his hands to himself, but you weren’t exactly complaining about staying in. You were too busy kissing him back, and teasing him mercilessly while you were at it, to do that.

You had already found the fastest way to get him needy and begging, not that any way took very long. If you kissed him while you straddled his lap, wrapping your arms around him and slowly grinding against him, he lost it in minutes. And you really seemed to get a kick out of watching him lose it, just as much as always.

It made him realize that the way you looked at him before, in sessions and scenes together, was a lot less of an act than he’d assumed at the time. He just thought you were a really good actress, or that he was really whipped; and maybe the first was true, and the second was absolutely true, but regardless it had become clear that you had it almost as bad as he did from the beginning. It gave him even more respect for how well you controlled yourself, he certainly hadn’t had much self-control at the time— after all the whole ordeal was about losing control, and occasionally about trying to gain it back.

He didn’t ask you to quit your job. He didn’t want or expect you to; but you did cut down your hours, which gave the two of you more time together.

To be totally honest, part of him got a bit titillated to imagine you with your other clients. He didn’t like the idea of other men touching you, but he smirked at the thought of them begging to touch you and being denied; he liked knowing that you didn’t do with them even half of the stuff you’d done with him when he was your client.

But he wasn’t your client anymore. He was your boyfriend, and he wanted the world to know it.

six months later...

He let you struggle to reach the top shelf for a moment, just because you looked cute on your tip-toes with the tip of your tongue sticking out of the corner of your mouth, before he finally relented and helped you grab the bottle of rice wine vinegar.

“Thanks,” you smiled as he set it in the cart.

After that you let him grab everything, content to stand on the end of the cart and push you around as you reminded him what else you needed.

“We’re out of Captain Crunch!” you remembered as he passed the cereal aisle, pointing to try to get him to turn.

“Yes, and we need to stay that way,” Bucky explained sternly, “that shit is addictive. Only way to avoid it is to not have it in the house.”

You frowned but accepted that he was absolutely right, though you groaned when he took you to the refrigerated section to stock up on chicken breasts. “I swear, you would eat these for breakfast if you didn’t think I’d judge you for it,” you joked.

“What’s wrong with chicken breasts?”

“They’re just so… bland!”

“Not if you season them right,” he corrected.

“Which you don’t,” you rolled your eyes. “Come on, at least splurge on some chicken thighs. They’re basically the same but so much more flavorful.”

“Fine, but no more making fun of my cooking,” Bucky decided, placing the breasts back on the shelf and grabbing two packs of thighs instead. “I’m still adapting to 21st century sensibilities.”

“Right,” you nodded, though he caught your smile in the corner of his eye— you knew he couldn’t exactly claim to still be as conservative as he was raised to be in every way.

Like any well-planned grocery run, it ended at the frozen section where you got some fruit bars and frozen vegetables (you had this theory that frozen vegetables tasted better in fried rice than fresh ones, and so far you’d proven him right) and he got a pizza to have for dinner in a pinch. When shopping alone before, he always did self-checkout to avoid being seen anymore than he had to… he still did it with you, but he didn’t even think about who might be looking at him, because all he saw was you.

You drove for this trip, and he always felt oddly soothed by riding passenger with you at the wheel. He liked to close his eyes and lean back a bit, or occasionally look over at you (but if he did it too much you complained that he was being creepy and distracting you). It shouldn’t be too much of a surprise that he enjoyed the feeling of you taking control, considering everything, but it was one of those little ways that he hadn’t expected. He just felt so comfortable, so safe with you, and never he felt like he was a burden for asking you to take the lead when he didn’t trust himself with it. And that applied to everything— driving, cooking, speaking up in crowds, all those little things that sometimes made him anxious.

There were some things he didn’t have any trouble being dominant about, though. He was very protective of you, for example, and tended to be uptight about how late you went out for walks or where you should be going alone. And he didn’t struggle to ask you for what he wanted— he was getting a lot better at asking for help, specifically.

He used to ask you to say that you loved him, instead of just saying ‘I love you’ himself, because for some reason it was easier to make you do it first. It started as something he’d beg for in the throes of passion, fingers digging into your skin as his eyes watered (as they often did in intimate moments): please, say you love me— jus’ need to hear you say it, please? And you were always sweet about it in return, of course I love you, James, my good boy, I love you so so much. But then he’d ask you to say it whenever he felt like it— he’d come up behind you while you were reading or cooking or something and kiss the top of your head or the shell of your ear and try to act nonchalant as he asked you love me, right?

You’d laugh and roll your eyes before you answered, but it was, thankfully, always a ‘yes.’ Eventually you figured out how often you needed to say it to make him stop asking all the time, which was probably a little too often.

“I love you,” you blurted out randomly as you turned on your signal and leaned a bit to make sure it was safe to make a left— case in point.

“I love you too,” he answered back with a smile.

“I don’t mind saying it so often,” you added, “but you know that I love you even when I’m not saying it, right? I love you all the time.”

It was a simple question, probably mostly rhetorical, but it hit him harder than he expected. “Yeah, I know,” he managed to get out evenly enough that you didn’t notice he was tearing up a bit.

He put the groceries away while you took the trash out; you liked to keep the fridge pretty organized, and it was an adjustment at first, but by now Bucky had it down pat. Before you, he hadn’t even considered that the contents of a refrigerator could be aesthetically pleasing.

Dinner was leftovers in front of the TV— you two were almost done with Frasier, but after that you had ten seasons of Friends to get through. You had tried to encourage him to watch more challenging stuff— you know, True Detective, Hannibal, dark cerebral stuff with arguably more artistic merit than classic sitcoms— but Bucky had had enough darkness in his life that he didn’t need it in his fiction. Maybe he’d find the time to catch up on the last 80 years of dramas and murder mysteries after he caught up on the last 80 years of comedy.

After dinner you were going to do yoga and Bucky, not in the mood to embarrass himself with that, retired to the bedroom a bit early to read his book— he’d heard a lot about this Harry Potter guy and now that he was on the fourth book and could hardly put it down, he understood the hype. He related a bit to the unwilling war hero in its protagonist; most of the time the series enthralled him, but occasionally something would hit too deep and he’d have to put it away for a couple days. At the moment, though, he was in one of the easy parts where it was just about schoolwork and childhood antics.

He instinctively glanced at the door when he heard you open it— he wasn’t sure how long it had been time-wise, but he’d gotten through quite a few pages— but he only quickly looked up at you as you shut the door behind you, before returning his attention to the book he was reading. “So, Bucky…” you began.

“Yeah?” he mumbled.

“James.”

It wasn’t any one thing that got his attention— not just the tone of your voice or the way it got a bit deeper, not just the look you gave him, not just the way the air of the room seemed to shift all at once. It was everything about you that made his body react instantly. He shut the book and set it aside, sitting up straight to look at you expectantly.

And you seemed to notice his instinctual obedience, considering you just barely smirked at him, raising an eyebrow as he spoke his reply: “Yes, Mistress?”

#sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader #sub!bucky barnes x domme!reader

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sweetestlamb · 3 years

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Bad Idea

Summary: Cha-young has a bad idea that involves one dangerous Italian.

Author's note: It's really just smut that I couldn't get out of my head, these two have no right having this much chemistry. It's only been 4 episodes. Read at your own risk. Also disregard anything I say about the law I'm making this shit up lol I don't know anything and I couldn't be bothered to look it up. I wanted to write more(aka make the smut smuttier) but life is getting in the way so please accept this and except more in the future when I have more time.😏

*Plays Ariana Grande- Bad Idea*

She has broken the law, after spending years learning the nooks and crannies of the justice system; hours spent soaking the ink into her fingers and absorbing the knowledge until it became a part of her very fiber. Arson. She was liable to seven years if penalized, Babel would surely flex their corrupted muscles to imprison them for even longer if they were found. She'd seen first hand what they did to those they believed were in their way, the loss of her father still pressing on her heart in aches that ebb and flow like waves on the coast.

She thought she would feel conflicted, when he had shared his plan she'd stared at him in concern, only then realizing that he was not bluffing about the lengths he would go- she was following him to the pits of hell and there would be no turning back. It was told that the road there was paved with best of intentions, but she wouldn't delude herself into believing she was a martyr.

No, this wasn't selfless or self-sacrificing for the greater good. It was revenge. Plain and simple, she had never seen eye to eye with her father seeing his earnestness as naivety especially after losing her mother, hating him for abandoning them; his heart was so huge yet he had no room for his own family. She was his only child but he hadn't come to her on bended knees pleading for her forgiveness after her mother died, no he had committed even harder to fighting for strangers. She didn't care what others said about how good and kind he was, she was angry. Devastatingly filled with resentment and that hadn't dissipated with his untimely passing, her last words to him had truly been what was in her heart.

But, it wasn't all that was in her heart.

He'd been a first love, the first man to show her unconditional love. Then he'd broken her heart and taken that unconditional love and spread it thin until she barely had a sliver left.

Despite all of these thoughts swimming in her mind like a tornado whirling until her brain feels dizzy she's proud of what they've done. Watching the factory burn ruthlessly made her skin feel like it was similarly enflamed, flames licking at her skin and looking over at the man who'd made this all possible set other parts of her body on fire.

He was infuriating, a wolf in sheep's clothing where she just wanted the wolf without the sham.

Squirming in her seat, she pretends to stare out the window sneaking glances at his profile. Cataloging the parts of his face that are still visible, the point of his nose that looms over the smooth lines of his lips and those eyes, they are docile now none of the killer intent that had been there in the bathroom as he asphyxiated a man in a dirty bathroom with merely a wire hanger. He was dangerous but that didn't make her want to keep her distance, no it lured her even closer like a moth to a flame.

Her entire life had been a series of barely thought out mistakes, what was one more? At least this one would be fun. She was hoping he fucked like he fought, rough and with singular focus. Betting on it.

"Should I drop you home Cha-young ssi?," the voice of her father's right hand man breaks the silence they'd been enduring. In her peripheral Vincenzo moves tuning into the conversation, no longer muttering to himself in what she can only assume is Italian.

"No. I'm going with him, we have something to discuss." She replies with confidence, nodding over to the man with pursed lips. He stares back at her with a lifted brow to which she responds with her own brow, exaggerated so far that it makes her mouth falls open and he tilts his head at her looking dumbfounded. She shrugs patting his knee, he doesn't need to know. They have plans he'll get on board soon enough.

Joo-Sung quickly looks between them clear questions in his eyes, she stares at him hard and he flinches before focusing on the road. Still fearing her more despite seeing first hand what Vincenzo is capable of she almost preens from the satisfaction, there's nothing quite like invoking that level of fright in another.

It's the little things in life.

Shockingly enough the Italian Korean doesn't argue, sighing before leaning back further into his seat seemingly deciding that it's not worth the headache. It won't be that hard to train him it seems, she silently hopes that he's more defiant behind closed doors she needs the aggression tonight.

If he could see the salacious things running through her head she wonders how he would react, would it make him hot under the collar? Make him pin her to the car and rip the protective suit from her body until all that remained was her quivering breasts and aching core, even Joo-Sung sitting right beside her isn't enough to qualm her imaginings. She needs his hands on her twisting her into position and hungrily devouring everything she's offering, desperately wants to use one of his many ties to render him motionless as she takes him apart.

The wetness pooling between her legs is slippery now, dripping into the delicate lace of her panties she shifts to relieve some of the pressure but the opposite happens and she rubs against her already swollen bead her imagination quickly making her spiral out of the realm of acceptable behavior. A small moan falls from her lips and Vincenzo stiffens next to her, acutely aware of her now she can feel his eyes on her as he tries not to look.

She swallows the moan that threatens to escape as she watches him lick his lips from the tail of his eyes, he picks up a bottle of water with an ever present air of nonchalance that she wants to shatter to pieces, her deviance the sledgehammer. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows and she wants to be the nectar sliding down his throat, she hasn't had sex in months and everything about him screams good fuck.

She just needs scientific proof to back up that hypothesis.

Keeping her eyes straight ahead she places her hand innocuously between them, slowly walking her finger over to his thigh until she reaches the thick meat of his leg and feels him jump under her coy touch. At first, he tenses the muscles coiled tight under the pads of her fingers. They always look so enticing wrapped in the expensive material of his dress pants, they'll look even better bracketing her thighs as he pounds into her.

"What the hell are you doing?" He hisses at her through clenched teeth. She smirks in response basking in his annoyance.

She answers by running her manicured fingers up the line of his thigh until she reaches the vee of his groin, he instantly grabs her hand in a tight grip before she can complete her journey. She flexes her fingers in his grip and he tightens ever slightly answering her wordless challenge. Biting her lips discretely she reaches up with a free hand to lower the zip of her safety suit, blowing at the skin as its revealed bits of sweat linger on her skin and she wipes at it before running her hands across her neck peeling away the thick curtain of her hair. A few strands sticking to the nape of her neck.

He's watching her, she can feel his eyes trailing her every move. He squeezes painfully at her fingers when she starts to bring the zipper lower, just about passing over the swell of her breast.

"Are you hot Cha-young ssi should I turn on the AC?" Joo-Sung asks trying to be helpful, she barely responds to him nodding her head in decline as she focuses on her prey.

"No. I'm fine, I don't mind the heat." She's talking to Joo-Sung but her message is for Vincenzo alone, anything he can dish out she can take it, will gobble it up eagerly and ask for seconds she's not looking for love, no they're too fucked up for that. This thing between them is purely animalistic.

She fights his hold on her hand with futility, being sighing and pretending to admit defeat. He releases her hand carefully watching her, waiting for her counter attack and she places the dejected hand in her lap before trailing down to vee between her thighs. Pressing one finger against her mound she looks over at him with liquid eyes, he's fixated eyes unblinking as they watch her finger at her clothed entrance. She runs two digits down and under, tilting her head back in faux exhaustion and when she looks over and his gaze is penetrating her face she smiles, playful and mischievous.

"We're here." Joo-Sung states, turning down the radio which had done a great job of smothering her sounds. She'd turned it on initially for that purpose.

Before Vincenzo can even grasp the door handle she clamors over him, straddling his lap lips falling open at the hard line that presses deliciously at her hot center, Joo-Sung sputters in his seat glancing back and forth between them in shock, Vincenzo's face is a storm- his brows furrowed and his lips twisted in a sneer. After minutely grounding down into his hard cock she finally grabs the handle, pulling the door open.

"You were taking too long. Let's go," she easily says with a straight face, swinging her leg over she jumps out of the car, "I'll see you tomorrow." She waves at Joo-Sung before looking back at Vincenzo and beckoning him with a hand. After a moments pause he silently gets out of the car, slamming the door emphatically. Joo-Sung wastes no time before peeling away, racing like the devil is on his tail the car gone within seconds.

"Are you crazy? Why would you do that in front of him?" He immediately grabs her arm tugging her into his face and she almost giggles at his punishing grip on her elbow.

"He won't think anything of it. I've done way worst things to men." She shrugs not fighting his grip instead stepping even further into his orbit, as if he has his own gravitational pull. His eyes flash minutely before he slams into her, grabbing the side of her head and thrusting his tongue through the loose seal of lips eagerly she responds, dragging him down by his shoulders to similarly lick at his mouth, sucking earnestly at his tongue. The kiss is fast and furious, both of them battling for dominance it's wet and messy and she hopes that sex will be the same. She's getting hot and bothered just thinking about it. Suddenly he bends low breaking their kiss catching her off guard before slinging her over his shoulder easily. Her hair tumbles down over his back nearly touching the ground and she squeaks when he slaps her ass, hard.

"You'll do worst things with me." He promises, walking to his apartment with her slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. If she wasn't so turned on she would hate this macho man display but this is what she was waiting for all night. She can hardly look a gift horse in the mouth. But she still grumbles and pounds at his back for show, she has a reputation to uphold after all.

He unlocks the door with her dangling from his shoulder and after stopping to drop the keys in a glass bowl he effortlessly tosses her down onto a couch, she looks up affronted by his callous move but her complaint dies on her tongue as she sees the way he's looking at her, dark eyes undressing her as he looms over her body.

There's surely no need for that.

Feeling generous she leans back unzipping her suit, this time not stopping sliding it down her chest and the cool air makes her nipples perk up under the tight thin material of her tank top. His eyes are like beads of coal as he hungrily stares at her. He reaches out for her, hands barely cupping her breasts before he freezes, searching her face before drawing away. With a groan he spins around before turning back to her, grabbing his hair before taking a deep breath.

"Your father's dead and we just burned down the Babel factory."

She stares at him as he stares at her, waiting for her to have some kind of reaction. Maybe break down into a puddle of emotions.

Honestly she's bone tired of that, riding him all night sounds like a much better use of her time and energy.

"I'm wet enough to end a drought." She replies dryly, tugging the zipper as far as it'll go before stepping out of the restricting article of clothing. Naked smooth legs rubbing against the couch, he follows her movement like a lion stalking its prey.

"What?" His eyes dart down to her newly revealed panties, peering between her legs as if to check the accuracy of her statement.

"Oh, we're not just stating random facts?" She teases playing with the thin straps of her tank top the only thing preserving her remaining dignity.

"What do you want from me?" He looks nervous now, her first time seeing such an expression on that stoic face. It's an easy question to answer though she doesn't even need to think about it.

"Fuck me until I can't think straight."

She will have to deal with the emotions bubbling up beneath the surface, address her complicated relationship and feelings for her father, admit the role that she played in his untimely demise by helping those bastards for years but right now none of that matters, all that matters is the ache between her legs. She wants to stop being guilty for one night.

"Can you do that?" She looks at him pleading, and he peers back she can see the thoughts rolling over in his head and as the seconds drag on longer than she'd anticipated she wonders if she misjudged, maybe she should have accosted her bumbling intern but she'd been terrified he'd want an actual relationship- that was the last thing she was looking for.

She starts to plot how exactly she can seduce him when he unzips his own suit, making her gasp when her eyes land on smooth bare skin his six pack glistens with the light sheen of sweat coating it.

"You wore nothing under? You slut." The corner of his lip lifts in amusement before he stalks over to her, shoving her back onto the cushion and crushing her with his weight she eagerly welcomes it with open arms. Picking up right where he left off her cups her breasts running twin large thumbs across the pebbled skin, it feels good but not quite enough through the cloth of her tank top. Impatiently she shoves the material down baring herself to him, he looks at her with heated eyes before grabbing the naked flesh, twisting the hard points before swallowing her without warning.

She jolts at the sensation, arching into his wet suckling then pushing his head down onto her and whining as he runs his teeth against the swollen mounds. She wraps her legs around his waist grinding into the hard erection jutting from his tight boxer briefs. Only he would have Versace boxers, if he wasn't thoroughly dismantling her she would be ribbing him. Pompous jack ass. Harshly pulling him away from her chest she stares at his face, his eyes are glossy and his lips are red and shiny, he looks like sin. Sexy pompous jack ass.

"Are you sure about this?" He asks her stupidly and she tugs her shirt over her head before lifting up and pulling down her panties, completely nude underneath him. She doesn't get stage fright.

"Are you sure? Can you handle it?" She bites out rocking her naked pussy over his clothed hardness and he hisses at the motion, something foreign falling from his lips. Immediately it makes her hot, boiling hot admittedly him speaking Italian is a thing for her, even when he's cursing at her and his spittle is flying everywhere. Fucking sexy as hell. It turns her wild in his lap, grounding onto him until his boxers are completely drenched from her a dark spot forming. This time he grabs her, forcing her down to bite at her neck before swallowing the moans from her tongue.

They twist around each other like serpents, tongues and bodies entwined. He's running his hands through her hair, tugging at the strands and using them to reign her in whenever she breaks free to gasp for air. Her hips are relentless as she grinds onto him, never pausing as he rubs against her swollen clit lust drunk as arousal consumes her brain. The smack of the elastic of his boxers snaps her back to lucidity and when she peers down she sees his long rigid pole, standing at attention the waist band of his boxers just under his heavy balls.

He grabs her hips before sliding through the sopping wet fold of her center and she screams at the intense pleasure that quakes through her body, all her synapses are firing off simultaneously. All connected to the spot deep instead her core.

"You got us....ahhh this far. You...hmmm finish it." He can barely get the words out groaning and thrusting up to meet her downward grind and she doesn't need to be told twice, she grabs the base of his thick cock rubbing the blunt head at her entrance once, twice before lifting higher and holding him tightly as she slides down, down onto him until his balls are nuzzling her bottom. He's big, bigger than she's used to and she whines at the burning stretch, muscle sore from not being used. Pushing through the discomfort she drags up slowly, carefully before throwing caution to the wind and slamming back down, the slap of their skin connecting loud in the quiet room.

He groans loudly, fingers sinking into her hips as he pounds into her. Not an ounce of gentleness in his plundering of her body. There will be bruises, she's looking forward to it.

He lets her ride him, filthy sounding Italian words falling from his open mouth the rhythm is fast, almost ridiculously so with both of them slamming back together each time they pull apart as if they can't bear the separation. When a particular thrust nudges him perfectly against her clit, she screams scratching down the smooth expanse of his belly, red lines left in her wake. He hisses at the pain but doesn't slow down, yanking her down faster to meet his thrust upwards and it feels so good she collapses onto his chest, drooling from the intense pleasure. She feels his fingers twist in the thick cord of her hair before her head is drawn back, "You look like you're still thinking, I'm not fucking hard enough."

He's smirking. She knows what she looks like, she's basically jelly in his arms. She looks shameless, seducing a man she barely knows and letting him fuck her like this on a couch. Her head lolls in his hand and she almost misses the small smile that stretches across his lips before he sits up and pushes her out of his lap, she cries out at the sudden departure but seconds later he pushes her over the arm of the couch, spreading her thighs, sticking a long finger inside her and humming in satisfaction at the sloshing moisture before slamming back in.

"Ti piace quello?" (Do you like that?) She doesn't have the slightest idea what he said but she moans anyway, nodding frantically. He switches back to Korean whispering into her ear, "If I'd have known this was all it took to shut you up I would have done this much sooner." This time she hisses at him, curling her hand around his neck and bringing them face to face, twisted over her own shoulder. He fucks her as they breath the same air, mouths wide open as they pant into each other. Reaching under her he thumbs at her breasts, she jumps at the dual sensation mind heady as he pounds into her over and over again.

When he brings one hand down her expertly finding her clit and rubbing at it ardently she loses her mind, gasping and sputtering about; her body tingling as he assaults her from all angles his cock big and piercing inside of her.

"Say my name."

She's too busy losing her goddamn mind, the arm rest the sole thing keeping her afloat then he growls from behind her, squeezing her breast in perfect synchrony as he thrusts deep inside her and his fingers play her clit like a violin, she wails tightening around him as she feels a red hot burn from deep inside her bursting to the surface. She's so close.

"Say my fucking name." He demands slapping at her ass cheek and she arches at the stinging blow, her back curving beautifully.

"Vincenzo!" With barely any air in her lungs she rasps out, hoarse and breathless. He grabs her neck, pulling her back taut she shivers under the rough treatment.

"Again."

He curls his hands around her neck, not quite cutting off her airway but making it harder to breathe. She feels light-headed but then he releases and air rushes to her lungs, he groans as she melts further onto his hardness every inch of him encased in her.

"Vincenzo," she begs, tears pooling in her eyes.

"Questa figa è mio." (This pussy is mine.) He whispers darkly, the bastard knows what he's doing, that smug grin on his face confirms it but her body reacts regardless lighting up like a Christmas tree for her. Her body is one giant pleasure point and he is pushing all of her buttons, one by one.

She feels like she's going to explode but just when she's on the edge, so close to the precipice seconds away from falling over and reaching nirvana he stops, the bastard. He stops everything, pulling out of her achingly slow until she's empty and unsatisfied she growls in frustration spinning around with fire and brimstone in her eyes.

"I've thought about fucking you. A lot. It can't end too soon." She glances down at his burgeoning hard on swinging between them, ahhh so she wasn't the only one about to explode. Interesting. But her throbbing center feels no sympathy, too upset about the premature stop of pleasure.

"I didn't think Italians were the type to leave a woman unsatisfied. Next time I'll fin--" She never gets to complete her sentence because he slaps a large hand over her mouth.

"St 'zitto." (Shut up.) He barks and her face is drenched in a familiar downpour, he was definitely cursing at her but before she can retaliate he's lifting her off the couch, forcing her legs around his slim waist. She latches onto his shoulder for balance too, rubbing her naked chest against him enticingly ready to start back where they left of.

"If you want me to understand you need to speak Korean. Translate." She complains and he slams her into a wall causing her to cry out as her back hits the hard surface, his hand is large around her head softening that blow gratefully.

"I think you understand well enough."

He stares directly into her eyes, reaching down to force her legs further apart and before he can move she forces her feet into the dimples of his knee, he tumbles forward and with that momentum she sheathes him once more purring at the burn and stretch. He slams her hands above her head and she snaps her teeth at him, aggressively thrusting forward onto his cock forcing him to drill deeper into her.

She gasps when he unexpectedly grabs her wrists in one hand and twists them behind her back. She tugs, but his grip is too tight. Too powerful. She can't move not without his permission.

"What are you doing?" She groans fighting his hold without success.

Leaning forward he tugs her ear lobe into his scorching mouth, feeding the words straight into the organ. "You're still thinking. I'm not doing a good job."

She opens her mouth to scoff but the sounds shrivels up and dies when he slams her up the wall, sliding out before dropping her and impaling her on his thick column, his hand tightens on her wrists as she fights to break free. He does it again, driving deeper and harder and her screams are breathless and soundless, all she can do is feel. He ravishes her chest, swallowing the swollen buds and biting at the ruddy tips until her chest is sore and wet with his spit. With her wrist behind her back he steps back, placing her back on the wall and creating an angle to better fuck into her, loud smacks filling the air every time he plunges in, hammering at her walls with singular focus. She's a whimpering mess, high pitched sighs all that she can produce.

"Cha-young ssi?" He seductively whispers in her ears, she can barely hear him over the blood rushing to her head but she nods, groaning in response his thrusts are relentless and unyielding. Why isn't his brain mush too?

"Who's pussy is this?" Her brain stutters at the question, she's only heard things like that in American porn. Never had words like that uttered to her by a partner, if she did she would laugh in their face and promptly leave. But he looks deadly serious as he awaits her reply. Slowing down his movements, but grinding deeper circling on her clit with each languid motion. She really wants to fucking come. He's such an unnecessary tease.

Swallowing her pride, she mentally curses her pussy this was all its fault.

When he starts to stop she panics and tightens her legs around his him, shouting, "Yours! It's your pussy!" Goddamit, why did he have to be this persistent? It was his for tonight.

It's the right answer, he lets her come.

Multiple times.

Until her toes curl and her legs feel like jelly.

She doesn't think about anything else for the rest of the night, even when he breaks her apart and she blacks out and falls asleep, bad dreams chase her but he fucks her awake preemptively cutting off those thoughts too. Turning her screams of terror into screams of pleasure.

This time she puts his ties to good use, one bounding his wrists together and another wrapped around his eyes.

Tomorrow, she'll face reality. Tonight is for bad ideas.

What's a one night stand between enemies?

#vincenzo #hong cha young #vincenzo cassano #smut #I know they would be kinky #i feel it in my bones #the plot is sex #no regerts

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ahsbitch · 4 years

Text

The Grey-Outpost!Michael Langdon x Reader

Word Count: 5143

Summary: So I got this message for my prompts and it was supposed to just be a blurb like the others but it was already getting way too long and then I realized it would fit really well with a oneshot idea I had a month or two ago sooo here we are

Warnings: so many, nsfw, smut, virginity loss, first time, first orgasm, actually first three lmao, fingering, choking, Mean!Michael, slapping, overstimulation, emotional manipulation, brief blowjob, unprotected sex, breeding kink, a little bit of corset kink, some cockwarming bc it’s me, very Sub!Reader, also overly nice reader which probably doesn’t need a warning but I’m putting it anyway, , mentions of violence, some waxing poetic bc again that’s just me, floor licking, some?underwear stuff? Idk man, did I mention swearing bc that’s here too, idk, that’s all I can think of but my brain is not entirely focused so if I missed something I’m sorry

A/N: I’m sorry I’m like this but I hope it’s okay. Comments are always appreciated! Even just in the tags of a reblog! Or a message! Or anything! Hearing your reactions makes me feel so good!

Mini Tag List: @wroteclassicaly @michaellangdonstanaccount @guiltyfiend

@angelicmichael

(i actually don’t remember if all of you asked to be tagged in stuff or not so if you didn’t i’m really sorry i just thought i’d put a few people, if you want me to...Not tag you in stuff that’s totally cool and i totally get it just let me know, if you do want me to tag you in stuff also let me know on that front)

You confused Michael Langdon.

It wasn’t intentional, he was sure, but he was not used to being confused by the behavior of humans.

You also annoyed him, although that was less surprising.

Most people annoyed him.

But you annoyed him for the same reason that you confused him, and that just made him all the more confused and annoyed and annoyed and confused.

How the hell were you so nice?

You treated everyone who crossed your path with such kindness, even though most of them treated you like you were dog shit on the bottom of their shoe. And you simply...smiled? Nodded? Did as they said, if they gave an order, or ignored them if it was just words.

He had never even seen you complain about your servant status, never seen you look at the drab grey of your dress with even an ounce of disdain.

He’d taken to reading your thoughts, even more than he did with the others, trying to find the cruelty hidden inside you.

Once, one of the Purples whose name Michael hadn’t bothered to learn had walked into a ladder that you were standing on for some job or another, and you had fallen to the ground, landing hard on your back. The Purple had cursed at you for getting in his way, and you apologized instantly.

What an asshole, You had thought, and Michael had started to get excited, but a moment later you had shaken your head at yourself, and your thoughts continued, No, Y/N, don’t be unfair. They live a different type of life here. It’s not his fault that he sees me like this at this point, he’s practically been indoctrinated.

What utter bullshit that was, and yet you’d seemed completely contented with that thought, climbing back onto the ladder to finish your task.

Another time he had walked in on you being beaten while Venable watching, smirking. He had simply stared for a while, watching the way you took your blows.

“What’s going on?” Michael had asked, blood boiling at Venable’s smug expression.

“A reminder. She’s been a bit slow in her work lately. Distracted, I think, with your proposal of paradise. She needed to remember her place.”

He had nodded, turning back to observe you, listening for your reaction to those words.

I haven’t been slower, though. She’s just been angrier. Poor Ms. Venable, she must be scared. I wish she wouldn’t take it out on me, Your stream of thought had paused as you let out a cry of pain, But I hope that she’ll find some type of peace.

In interviews, Michael had started to ask about you.

“She’s nice,” Gallant had said rather dismissively, “That’s about it. Not memorable. I don’t think anyone would miss her.”

“She helps everyone finish their work, even though she has her own,” Another Grey had said, tilting his head to the side in thought, “I saw her take a beating in Mallory’s place once for a broken lamp. I don’t think that’s the only time she’s done that, either. She’s a little too sweet, almost. It can’t be real, can it?”

That was Michael’s thought too, but you were that sweet, or so it seemed.

He’d begun instructing everyone during their interviews to either completely ignore you or be cruel to you, to treat you with extra disdain, to not bother with respect. He’d told Purples and Greys alike, had watched out to see them following his orders. They were doing it, and you were slowly becoming more and more alone,and yet you never so much as thought anything cruel in return. From time to time, a nasty thought would pop into your head, but you always brushed it away almost instantly, scolding yourself into something overly forgiving of their behavior. Still, you were lonelier than ever, and that meant that it would be all the easier to draw you to him.

Your interview was the last one that was scheduled, and with every moment that led up to it he found himself getting more and more ready to break you down, and every time he thought of that he found his cock getting harder and harder.

He was going to ruin you, in more ways than one.

And then the interview had started, you sitting in your chair with your hands folded neatly in your lap, steadfastly avoiding eye contact with him, a polite smile on your face, and something had snapped deep inside him.

He wasn’t sure what did it. Maybe it was your answer to why you should be taken to the Sanctuary.

“I don’t know that I should,” You’d said simply, your damned respectful smile never wavering, “I mean, it would be nice. But I’m not particularly special, right? And if the Sanctuary is meant to be people carrying on the human race, shouldn’t it be the people who are going to make the biggest difference? I know you said that what I thought i was weakness could be my saving, and I get that, I just don’t know if I have any particular weaknesses or any particular saving graces. If you need someone to wash floors or cook in the Sanctuary, then yeah, I’m pretty good at those things. You might want me. But I don’t know that I have any particular talents or powers that would make me more useful than anyone else.”

Maybe it was what you had said when he’d asked about your anger, about whether or not you would get revenge on any of the others for the way they’d treated you, if you got the chance.

You shrugged, taking a few moments to think about your answer before you spoke, “No. I don’t blame them for it, not really. The world ended. The fact that any of us are alive is strange enough as it is. Them being cruel is probably more of a defense mechanism than anything else. I wish they wouldn’t use me for their anger, or their disdain, or their sadness, I kinda wish they’d just leave me alone sometimes, but I wouldn’t want to get revenge even if I got the chance. I don’t think they deserve to be treated badly, even if they’ve treated me badly.”

But most likely, it had been your answer when he’d asked what exactly you were thinking about right in that moment.

“The end of the world, Mr. Langdon, sir,” Your smile finally dropped for just a moment, your embarrassment evident, “And your eyes. They’re very beautiful. I was thinking that heaven probably isn’t real, but if it is, it probably looks something like your eyes. But of course it’s much more likely that hell is real, based on recent events, in which case it probably looks something like the world we live in right now.”

Michael had stood, instructing you to do the same, and within moments his lips were on yours.

Yes, he was going to ruin you in every way possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was so totally not how you had planned for your interview to go.

Was it how Langdon had planned for it to go? Maybe. You wondered vacantly if this had happened with all of his other interviews, if all of them had found themselves lying on the floor, pinned underneath him, feeling him hungrily devouring their mouths in perhaps the best kiss that anyone had ever experienced.

He trailed kisses down to your throat, hot, open mouthed, that you felt even though they were over the high collar of your dress, and he bit down hard, sucking harshly through the fabric.

“Fuck!” You groaned out, feeling your skin go hot with embarrassment over the noises you were making.

“Don’t hold back, pet,” He moved his mouth to your ear, kissing the spot just behind your earlobe as he murmured, “You make the most delightful little noises.”

This served only to embarrass you more, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek to try and hide the moans that threatened to spill from you.

Langdon’s hand made its way to your neck, squeezing at it as he pulled your head up closer to his, and you let out a pained whine at the pressure his palm put onto the sore spot he had just left on your throat, “Did you not hear me? Don’t hold back. I expect you to follow my orders. I’d think you’d be used to that by now.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” You let out a strangled cry, and with a sharp smile he finally released you, letting your head drop back against the floor.

“Next time you don’t listen to me, you will be,” He chuckled at your terrified expression, but after a moment he froze, raising a curious eyebrow at you, “What are you thinking about right now?”

You weren’t naive enough to think that he actually cared about how you were feeling, but you answered anyway, scared of what may happen if you didn’t, “Honestly? I’m trying to decide if I’m more likely to be murdered by you or by Ms. Venable.”

Langdon laughed again, moving off of you and leaning against the wall. He looked oddly comfortable like that, although you wouldn’t be surprised if his outfit cost more than the entire Outpost, and with a wolfish grin he patted his lap gently.

You frowned, unsure of what that meant, but Langdon simply rolled his eyes and wrapped a hand around your wrist, tugging you into his lap.

This was… odd.

After a moment, he gripped both of your wrists, raising your arms up and placing them on his shoulders, and you locked your fingers around the back of his neck, staring dumbly at him as you did so.

His legs extended straight out, but he held you steady in his lap, arm wrapped your hips, your own legs perpendicular to his.

This was very odd.

“Now tell me,” It was interesting, the way Langdon’s words sounded more like a purr, “Why do you think that I would kill you?”

Shyly you dropped your gaze, but then his hand was under your chin, lifting until you looked him in the eye, and you shrugged, “I mean… you said you would. It was like the first thing you told me when I came in. That if I lied or hedged or anything like that you’d...y’know...obliterate me.”

“And have you lied to me?” His voice was sharp now, his eyes dangerous, although something playful still danced around the edges of his lips.

“No!” You flinched, prepared for him to hit you even though he made no movement to do so, and after a minute, after you’d realized that no strike was coming, you blinked at him, “I, uh, no, sir. But you’re, well, forgive me for saying so, Mr. Langdon, but you’re very intimidating.”

He was frowning now, just a little, and you probably wouldn’t have even noticed if you hadn’t been so fascinated by his mouth, “I’m glad you find me intimidating. I’d be a bit concerned for your sanity if you didn’t. But I have no plans at the moment to kill you, and as long as you keep telling me the truth like this, I doubt it’ll arise. Now, why would Venable kill you?”

“She’s strict about her rules,” You felt your face heating up again, “No sexual contact of any kind. And we, y’know, we kissed. If she finds out, well, she’d even kill a Purple for breaking the rules so explicitly like that. She’d kill a Grey for a lot less.”

“And we’ll be doing a lot more,” Langdon’s smooth voice echoed in your ears, and you shivered slightly at the insinuation, “Venable will not touch you.”

“Why not?” Your curiosity got the better of you, and you asked before you could think about the fact that it was probably a bad idea.

Luckily, Langdon did nothing more than chuckle at you again, shifting slightly underneath you, “Because if anyone here is going to harm you, pet, it’s going to be me.”

For some reason, his words made you clench your thighs, and you swallowed to avoid letting out a whine.

“Yes sir,” You said softly, and then, when he’d started pressing kisses along your jaw, “There’s one more thing.”

“And what would that be?”

Clearing your throat, you fought to keep holding eye contact with him, “I don’t, I mean, I don’t want to be one of those people who fucks someone to get something. I don’t want to sleep with you just in hopes of going to the Sanctuary, especially because you could easily say you’re going to take me until after we’re done and then tell me you’ve changed your mind or something. I don’t want that. I’d rather you just... tell me the truth now.”

“Alright,” Sighing, Langdon straightened up a little, shifting beneath you again so that you suddenly became aware of his erection pressing into you, “You’re not going to the Sanctuary, Y/N. Not even if we fuck. And we are going to fuck, you understand that, right?”

“Yes sir,” You felt your gaze drop to his lips once more, “I understand. The Sanctuary thing and the fucking thing. May I please kiss you again?”

“Not only may you do so, but I insist that you do,” His voice was cold now, but one look into his eyes showed you that he was pleased about this, and you frantically brought your mouth to his.

Langdon slammed you back to the ground, and your head cracked loudly against the marble floor, making you feel a bit dizzy, and then his fingers found their way between the buttons of your dress and he pulled sharply, ripping it in half, and that made you feel even dizzier.

Holy fuck, how strong was he?

“Lovely,” He murmured, his mouth running over your collarbones and up the curves of your neck, sucking dark bruises onto your skin as he went, “Don’t forget what I told you. I want to hear every single one of your sounds, understood?”

“Yes sir,” Your hands made their way to his hair almost of their own accord as he continued on, mouth drifting down to swirl over your covered nipples.

“Turn around,” Langdon commanded, and he hummed his approval when you followed his instructions in merely a moment, kneeling before him but facing the wall.

His long fingers made their way to the ties of your corset, beginning to work on the knot, and he frowned, “This is tied very tightly, pet. Doesn’t it hurt?”

“I had Mallory tie it extra tightly for me, so I would have something to focus on other than my nerves for the interview,” You let out a hiss of relief as the corset came untied, “It wouldn’t hurt much, but you’re supposed to wear something under a corset, and Ms. Venable doesn’t give the Greys anything to wear under our corsets because she says our comfort isn’t a priority. So it kinda digs into my-ow, fuck, my skin.”

Your cry of distress had come when Langdon’s hands had pressed hard into the red marks that marred your back from your corset.

“It really has done a number on you,” He helped you unclasp the front of your corset and slip it off, before bringing his hands to your hips, “Get on all fours.”

You did as he said, unsure of why exactly he was asking you to do so, but you understood a moment later when the wet warmth of his tongue began to stroke along your spine. He licked along each mark that had been left behind, leaving a trail of coolness to follow, and although it stung with each moment of contact, it left some relief as he went. You mewled at the feeling, back arching towards him, desperate for more.

“Feel better?” He purred, now drawing his nose around your spine.

“Yes,” You sighed pleasantly, “Thank-fuck!”

Langdon had shifted his arms so that one ran under your stomach, holding you in place, and with the other he brought his palm down on your back with all his strength.

Tears were starting to spill from your eyes, leaving a puddle on the floor as he struck you four more times in quick, painful succession.

“Aw, does it hurt, pet?” He was cooing at you, voice light and mocking, “Look at you. You’ve made a mess on my floor. Clean that up for me, yes?”

Unsure of what that meant, you tried to look back at him to ask, but Langdon wrapped his hand around your neck and forced your head to the floor, his entire body pressed against yours, “Clean it up.”

Hesitantly, you reached your tongue out to the floor, scooping the salty moisture up carefully. The pressure on your throat lightened up so that you could breathe more easily, but he didn’t remove his hand, and you frantically licked the rest of your tears off of the floor.

Letting you sit up, he smirked at your shy smile, examining the floor carefully before praising you, “Wonderful job, pet. But it appears that the mess on the floor isn’t your only one. You seem to have made quite a mess down here as well.”

With that his hand cupped your pussy over your panties, which had become thoroughly soaked through. He pulled them down slowly, a rumble rolling past his lips at the sound the fabric made as it tried to cling to your damp flesh. He gave a tug and ripped them off of your thighs, bringing the shredded remains up to his face to examine it closely. Staring into your eyes, he poked his tongue out of his mouth and brought it to the fabric, laving slowly over the wetness that coated it. You moaned loudly at the sight, squeezing your thighs together.

When Langdon was satisfied that he had gotten every drop of your essence off of the scraps of your underwear he tossed them carelessly in the direction of his desk, and then his tongue was on you once again, this time drawing painfully slow stripes from your knee up your inner thigh, ending just at your hip bone.

“Did you like watching me?” There was amusement in his voice, a kind of mirth that could almost be mistaken for warmth, as he licked closer and closer to where you wanted him most, never deigning to touch you there, “Did it make you even more wet for me? Do you want me to eat your pretty little pussy until you can’t walk? Want me to let you drench my face?”

“Please, yes, please!” You keened towards him and Langdon clamped his hands onto your thighs to hold you in place, bringing his thumbs down to spread your pussy lips open. There was something so intimately dirty about it that you let out another long moan, his breath fanning hot air against your folds, “Langdon, please, I’ll do anything you ask.”

He scoffed, nuzzling his nose over your entrance, “You’d do anything I asked anyway. But I will say, you have just about the sweetest pussy I’ve ever seen. And you smell divine, pet.”

Whimpering, you tried to rut up to his mouth, wanting so badly to feel him against you, “Please, sir, Langdon, please, what do I have to do for you to touch me?”

At those words, Langdon moved away from you completely, now not even letting his fingers drift over your skin, “Was I not touching you before? You’re incredibly ungrateful for someone who I could kill with less than the blink of an eye.”

“I’m sorry,” You scrabbled to your knees, legs shaking, “I’m sorry, Mr. Langdon, I didn’t mean to be ungrateful. I’m so grateful to you, I am, I’m sorry.”

“As you should be,” He sneered, but the bulge in his pants looked even larger than it had before, and the corners of his lips twitched up, “You do look very good on your knees for me. I think this is the position you’re meant to be in, the reason you were put on this earth. Why else would you look so lovely like this, look like such a pretty little slut? Open your mouth for me, pet.”

This is happening. This is actually happening.

Eagerly, you complied, wrenching your mouth as wide open as you could, desperate to please him. Langdon unzipped his dress pants, reaching into his boxers and stroking himself, letting out a deep and rumbly groan as he finally pulled himself out.

His cock was... beautiful? You hadn’t expected to find it so beautiful. The few dicks you had seen you had mostly found odd, fine enough but not particularly nice to look at, but Langdon’s looked like it had been carved by Michelangelo himself.

It was also huge, as thick as your wrist and at least as long as your forearm, the tip a throbbing angry crimson. It was veiny, and you would’ve expected that to be strange but it just made it even prettier, an extra long and thick vein running up the side that oddly made your mouth water.

A fresh wave of desire pulsed through you, but that didn’t stop your worry as he approached you, speaking your anxiety out loud, “Is that... I mean, is that going to fit?”

Chuckling, Langdon pushed himself into your mouth with no warning, holding the back of your head with one hand as he began an intense, bruising pace, “What’s the matter, little whore? Never been with someone this big?”

That’s one way to put it.

He froze suddenly, buried down your throat, his pelvic bone pressed against your nose, and slowly he looked down at you with a raised eyebrow, “Wait, you’re a virgin?”

You nodded slowly, and Langdon hissed at the movement, slowly pulling himself away from you, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You didn’t ask,” You shrugged, bringing a hand up to massage your jaw, “I didn’t think it would matter, I’m sorry. Does it change things?”

Langdon gripped your hair, and he pulled you to your feet and into a bruising kiss all in one swift movement. Then his hands were all over you, stroking your skin fervently as he led you to his chair, sitting down and pulling you into his lap once more. The feeling of his dress pants against your bare skin was sinfully lovely, and you were suddenly aware of how exposed you were, when you could see almost nothing of him.

After what felt like hours, he pulled away from you, his eyes dancing with something deeply dangerous, a brilliant smile on his face, “Of course it matters, pet I wouldn’t have even considered wasting any of my cum in your mouth if I knew your perfect cunt was untouched, waiting for me.”

You let out a cry as he grabbed onto your hips tightly, beginning to draw you up and down over his length. His cock pressed into your folds, rubbing your clit, and every time he approached your entrance you gasped, “Holy, oh my, fuck, that feels good, Langdon I-”

“Michael,” He interrupted, moving you faster.

“What?” You blinked up at him in confusion, and he felt his cock twitch at the sight.

“My name is Michael Langdon,” He pressed a kiss to your neck, beginning to suck a new line of hickeys, “You can call me Michael.”

“Michael,” You sighed, clenching around nothing as a strange sensation started to boil in your stomach, something so pleasureful that you didn’t know what was happening, “Oh, fuck, Michael, you feel so good, please, can’t you just fuck me?”

“Oh believe me, I’m going to,” His cock was twitching even more now, your name so perfect from his mouth, “But you have to be ready for it first. Come on, pet, come for me, just like this.”

You mewled, your fingers digging into his shoulders as the boiling in your stomach became more, became overwhelming, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you let out a desperate shriek.

“I didn’t, oh fuck, oh god, I didn’t know it would feel that good,” You panted, and Michael raised an eyebrow at you yet again as you buried your face in his shoulder.

“Have you... have you never had an orgasm before?”

You shook your head against him, letting out another gasp as one of his fingers started to toy around your entrance, “No, I haven’t. I mean, I thought I might have once, but it was nothing like that.”

“Have you ever had any fingers inside you?” He asked, even as he was already easing a finger into you, giving your walls a single stroke before he pushed two more in.

“No!” You shrieked, the foreign sensation making you buck your hips wildly, “I, I mean, no, I haven’t.”

Cock throbbing harder than ever before, Michael began to scissor his fingers around, stretching you out, “Fascinating. My little whore is so inexperienced.”

Moaning at his words, you lurched when his middle finger hit a spot deep inside you that made you see stars, “M-m-Michael, please!”

“M-m-Michael! M-m-Michael!” He mocked you, scooping the hand that wasn’t busy working you open under your ass, shifting out of the seat and lowering you to the ground, his mouth finding its way to your tits, “Wait, pet. Be a patient slut for me and you’ll be rewarded.”

You nodded as he bit your nipple, toying with it roughly before kissing over to the other side, “Sorry, sorry, oh holy fuck that feels good.”

Another orgasm was forming deep within you, more mewls leaving your throat as you desperately started to claw at his back, “Michael, fuck, Michael, I’m going to-”

“Good girl,” He purred, pulling his fingers out of you just as you started to cum, and then he slammed his cock into you with no warning, delighting in the bloodcurdling scream that you let out, letting out a guttural moan, “You’re so good for me, aren’t you? Desperate little slut, you were so ready for me to stretch you out, huh?”

“Wait, Michael,” You let out a sob, your cunt pulsing with overstimulation, “Michael, it’s too much, it hurts, please.”

He was completely bottomed out in you, not moving yet, but he brought both hands up to wrap around your throat, cutting off all of your air, “Now now, pet, that’s no way to thank me for being so kind to you. You’ve cum twice now, haven’t you? And have I gotten to cum even once? No. Now, are you going to be good for me?”

You nodded fervently, and he released you, leaving you gasping, “Sorry, sorry, Michael. I’m sorry.”

“Good,” Michael started to pull out of you ever so slowly, moving at a glacial pace until just his tip was inside of you before thrusting in again, filling you up once more, “Oh, you feel good. Your pussy is fluttering all around me. But I should tell you, Y/N, I lied to you.”

You let out another shaky sob as he hooked his hands under your knees and stretched your legs up, throwing them over his shoulders, continuing his pace of slow drags out followed by impossibly fast thrusts in, your hands scrambling for purchase on the smooth silk that covered his back, “Wh-what? What do you mean?”

“I told you I wasn’t going to take you to the Sanctuary,” He grunted, his pace getting somehow even slower, in and out both, your slapping skin making loud, lewd noises, “I lied. I am. I’m going to pump you full of my cum, pet, until you’re overflowing with me. I’m going to breed you like the whore you are, and then we’re going to rule over the new world, together.”

“I don’t understand,” Shrieking again, a whine bubbling out of your throat, you gasped as his hands moved to your tits once more, “Please, Michael, please can you go faster?”

It still hurt, but it was getting better, the pain being overrun with the pleasure.

Michael complied, slamming into you, setting such a brutal, bruising pace that you were sure you could feel him all the way up in your stomach, “That’s my good little pet. Look at this, your pussy is devouring me. I’m going to wreck you, gonna mold your pussy around my dick so that you know that no one else will ever be able to make you feel good. Your perfect little pussy was made for me, and me alone. You were made for me. Your pussy, your ass, your mouth, these perfect tits,” He gave your breasts a harsh squeeze, running his thumbs over your nipples as you let out another scream, “They’re gonna be full of milk before you know it, filled up for our baby. Do you want to have my baby, pet? Do you want me to breed you? Fill you up? Ruin you for anyone else with my cock?”

“Yes!” You sobbed, although you were barely conscious of what you were saying, barely even conscious of what he was saying, another orgasm fast approaching, “Michael, please! Fill me up! I need you!”

“Then cum for me,” Growling, he brought his nose down to touch yours, “Squeeze my cock with that tight pussy of yours, finish for me, and accept my seed knowing that you belong to me now, understood?”

“Yes, yes, yes! Michael, I’m yours, I belong to you, yes!” Your screams were echoing around the room now, but you couldn’t hold back, not when he felt so good, and this time rather than a boiling in your stomach your orgasm felt like an awakening, like you were being reborn.

You came harder than you knew was possible and Michael quickly followed suit, pumping you full of his thick, hot ropes of cum, more than he had ever cum before, filling you all the way up.

Whimpering, you sat up, and rather than letting you move away Michael pulled you to his lap and dragged himself to the wall to lean against once again, hushing your mewls with a kiss, “Good girl. That’s my good little pet. I’m gonna stay inside you, okay? Gotta make sure you don’t lose a single drop.”

Nodding, you felt your eyelids start to flutter, your head dropping to his chest, “Yes, Michael. I’m...I’m so tired.”

“I know you are, little one, I know you are. Get some rest now. No one will interrupt us. Rest, my sweet, and have dreams of the future we will build together,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest, and letting out a happy hum as he felt you already drifting off, and before he did the same he whispered in your ear, “I’m proud of you.”

#Michael Langdon smut #outpost!michael Langdon smut #outpost!michael #outpost!michael Langdon #outpost!michael smut #outpost!michael Langdon x reader #outpost!michael Langdon x reader smut #Michael Langdon x reader #Michael Langdon x reader smut #ahs fic #ahs fics #ahs smut #oof #yeah

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lia-jones · 3 years

Text

Growing Together - Chapter Twenty-Seven - Footsteps

Before you start:

This work is unbeta'd and English is not my first language. I apologize in advance for any mistakes you may find.

Victor sighed in relief as he placed his keys on the plate in the hallway, finally finding himself at home after a terrible day at work. It had been meeting after meeting, barely having time for lunch, his phone ringing off the hook, numerous emails waiting for him when he dared to look at his inbox.

To add insult to injury, his day wasn't exactly over. Victor couldn't wait to lie on his sofa and simply enjoy the evening nursing a glass of brandy with his wife in his arms, but he would have to spend it on his study instead, all alone, to attend a conference call with the team in Paris, who was in a different timezone.

His bad mood was somewhat eased with the aroma of delicious food being cooked, his heart taking solace in the sound of his wife and son's voices bantering in the kitchen. At least he was finally home, he comforted himself. For the time being, he would indulge in a hot relaxing shower and a nice dinner with his family.

Owen was always the first to notice when Victor or Andrea arrived, and as usual, he was the first to greet him, running to his arms. Although Victor had been feeling back pain pretty much all day, a customary symptom when he was overly stressed, such was immediately forgotten the moment he had his son in his arms. With heartfelt laughter, Victor threw the boy in the air, having him land safely in his arms with a very tight hug. And just like magic, Victor immediately felt better. His family was all he needed to recover from that awful day and get back on his feet to face another battle.

"What is your mother up to?" Victor asked, playfully disheveling the boy's red curls.

"She's in the kitchen, making dinner. I helped." He beamed at his father. "It's Mom's special fish and shrimp stew."

Bouillabaise, one of his favorites. Comfort food was exactly what he needed. Putting the boy down, Victor moved to the kitchen to find his wife minding the large pot on the stove. He hugged her from behind, his chin leaning on the top of her head.

"Hello, handsome." She turned her head to look at him.

"Hmm." He groaned, burying his face in the nape of her neck, taking comfort in her scent and the softness of her skin.

"Long day?" She reached back to run her fingers through his hair, slightly scratching his scalp, making Victor almost purr in delight.

"Hmmmm." He moaned, too entertained with how she was making him feel to form a proper answer.

"You’re tense." She declared as she reached back to feel his shoulders.

"Just a little tired." His arms circled her waist, as she turned to him.

"Dinner will be ready in 10." She spoke while she continued to work on the knots of his shoulders. "Get yourself out of that suit and have a shower. We got it covered here."

She playfully hit him in the chest, pushing him away from her. As revenge, Victor stole a kiss, a soft sweet kiss that made her sigh when he broke it. Feeling smug with her reaction, he left Andrea to her own devices, heading for the bedroom. A steamy shower definitely sounded very good. Despite Andy's massage, his shoulders still felt sore.

"Owen has some news for us today." His wife declared at the dinner table, winking at their son.

"Let's hear it." Victor lifted his eyes to his son, giving him his undivided attention.

"Next week it will be Career Day at my school." Owen said, excited. "They want us to bring one of our parents to class for Show and Tell, to explain to our classmates what they do for a job."

"What an excellent initiative." Victor nodded in approval, reaching for his glass of wine. "You could ask your mother, she will have a lot to talk about, between her study and LCG."

Owen didn't reply, looking down instead.

"I'm not the only option on the table here." His wife intervened. "You could go."

"Nonsense, you are clearly the best option." Victor retorted. "You could bring the GESA award to show the kids, talk about the study, your work at LCG, how your ideas may change the economy as we know it. Besides, you are practically their size. I bet they will find that both amusing and inspiring." He teased.

His wife was glaring at him, probably not happy with his witty remark.

"I think your mother should go, Owen." Victor concluded, trying to diffuse the tension his joke caused. "I'm sure she will do an excellent job."

"Would you mind coming, Mom?" Owen mumbled, looking down.

"Of course I wouldn't, Bug. It will be my pleasure." She caressed the boy's hair lovingly, a hint of sadness in her smile.

Victor watched both of them, somewhat intrigued. Why were both so morose? Weren't they happy with his suggestion?

"May I be excused?" Owen placed his napkin on the table. "I need to feed my ants."

"You may." Victor smiled. "By the way, how is the colony going?"

"Well." Owen left the kitchen without any other word.

Victor furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. When it came to his ant colony, Owen was usually a lot more talkative.

"What's the matter with him?" He almost whispered to his wife. "Did something else happen at school?"

"You are a clueless idiot." Andrea threw at him, irritated.

"What!? Why? What did I do?"

"Don't you think that if he wanted me to go, he would have asked me already?" She scolded him. "He wanted to invite you, and you shot him down before he had a chance."

"Me? You are obviously the best choice, why would he want me?"

"Because you are his father, you big moron!" She almost yelled, carefully adjusting her tone after. "Look, you are his father figure, his male example, the one that he looks up to. He never really had anything like that before. This is important for him, he finally has a father he can be proud of. Basically, he wants to show you off to his friends. God only knows why, you’re an idiot in a suit."

For a brief moment, Victor recalled the moment he sought out for his father's attention and approval, only to be met with closed doors and reprimands on how children shouldn’t waste an adult's time with trivialities. He remembered how much it hurt him to be ignored, to not be important, to be treated like a nuisance. Victor refused to let his son go through the same thing, but most importantly, he refused to be the one making Owen feel like that.

"I see."

"Finally. Now go fix it." She urged.

He found the boy sitting with his legs crossed on the floor, staring absentmindedly at his ant farm. He could see himself at that very same age, and almost guess what was going through his son's mind. Owen was probably blaming himself for not being interesting enough, trying to find a way to make his father notice him.

Victor sat silently on the bed, waiting for Owen to acknowledge his presence. The boy looked at him with sad brown eyes, deep and dark, making the freckles on his nose stand out.

"Is it bedtime yet?" Owen asked, getting up from the floor.

"No, I just wanted to have a word with you."

"Am I in trouble?"

"Do we only talk when you're in trouble?" Victor couldn't help but feel slightly offended. "Sit beside me."

Owen obeyed, sitting next to his father, an expectant look on his face. Victor took a moment to think about how he would approach the subject. He couldn't tell the boy about the conversation he just had with his mother.

"Maybe we made a hasty decision regarding who is coming to Career Day."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I did say your mother was the best choice. However, after careful consideration, I think I may be a very interesting choice as well. I mean, I know most of your friends from playing soccer in the park, I'm fairly popular already. One could even say I'm... cool."

"You want to go?"

"That is for you to decide. But I would be honored if you’d take me."

"I was going to ask you." Owen confessed. "I even asked Mom if that would hurt her feelings, and she said she would be happy if I chose you."

"Why didn't you say so, then?"

"Because I know you are very busy, especially now that you are opening that new business in France. I overheard Mom scolding you the other day for not getting enough sleep. I thought you were saying Mom could go because you were too tired. And if you are too tired, it's selfish of me to ask."

Victor smiled at the little boy as he pulled him into his lap. He was barely five, and he could be so considerate. He playfully poked his little freckled nose.

"Even if that was the case, even if I was too tired, I would still go. You know why?"

The boy shook his head.

"Because I love you." Victor replied in a soft voice. "You are my son, and there is nothing I wouldn't do for you."

Small arms wrapped around Victor's neck in a tight hug. And the sweetest voice spoke the sweetest words.

"I love you too, Dad. Thank you for doing this, it will be so cool!” He jumped excitedly. “I can already imagine what my classmates will say about the cool things you do at work! Do you know what you will bring to your presentation? Megan's father is a trainer at the zoo, she says he may bring a parrot!"

Victor's stomach turned cold. Only at that moment did he realize what he truly agreed on.

The task sounded fairly simple: to explain his job to a room full of five-year-olds. It turned out, it was a lot harder than he expected.

His job entailed many complicated concepts, like risk assessment and profit analysis, and had big words like enterprise value, equity, and horizontal integration. Those things were already hard enough to explain to a child, but worse than that, they were boring. He had to make his job look interesting, and although it would be fairly easy to seduce an adult by showing profit, children didn't respond to money. He had to make it entertaining, and simple. Yet, he had no idea how. Nothing about his job would seem entertaining to a child.

But then one day, while running, he recalled his Economics teacher’s words from one of his lectures: Economy has existed since primitive times, where things were much simpler, and an economic transaction meant trading meat for animal skin or a cutting tool. The act of trading baseball cards during recess could be considered an economic transaction. To explain it, he would just have to trade the fancy terms for things children could relate to.

Finally, he had a plan. A good one. That didn't mean he wasn't nervous.

“Do you want to call Mom and tell her to come instead?” The boy asked from the backseat as they were driving to school.

“What? No, I’m fine.” Victor gripped the wheel tighter, trying to steady himself.

“Are you sure?” Victor saw his boy frown from the rearview mirror. “You look like you have a tummy ache.”

Did he? He immediately relaxed his face, trying to remain expressionless.

“Mom told me you would be like this.” Owen smiled with a knowing look. “She told me to tell you that you just need to use the charm you used on her.”

Yes, Victor could do that, he had some good moments with Andrea. Well, apart from the interview, and when her car broke down, with the heavy rain and... nipples. And being so embarrassed he could barely speak. The memory only made him more nervous.

He marched bravely into school with a box full of containers with cherries and a bag full of lollipops. Owen was exhilarated to have his father with him, jumping happily in the halls, showing him every piece of art he had made that was on display. Victor, on the other hand, was sweating from nervousness, hoping the AC in Owen's classroom was freezing cold. The teacher jumped on the spot when she saw him.

“Mr. Lee?” She came to him hurriedly, looking puzzled when she saw Victor place the containers in one of the empty desks. “The Principal didn’t tell me you were visiting. By the way, where is he? Are you here unattended? Is this about a fund or something? How can I help you?”

“I’m here for Career Day. We still haven’t had the pleasure to meet.” Victor extended his hand to the teacher. “I’m Victor Lee, Owen’s father.”

“Owen, you didn’t tell me your father was Victor Lee!” She looked down on the boy, flushed.

“I told you my father was a CEO.” Owen quipped, frowning slightly.

“Well, still, how would I know it was Victor Lee?”

“My name is Owen Lee.”

The teacher fanned herself, eyeing Victor with a weird smile.

“Mr. Lee, I know that our installations aren’t quite what you are used to, but I hope you do feel welcome.”

“I’m sure they will do perfectly, thank you.”

Victor was wrong. The chairs were too small for an adult, especially one of his stature. However, standing up was also not an option, as he would be beside Owen and he would block the view, so he had no choice but to sit on the tiny chair, with his legs awkwardly crossed, looking like an idiot.

Megan's father was the first, and he did bring the parrot, making him do all kinds of tricks. The children and the teacher laughed at the animal's shenanigans, and Victor couldn't help but feel disheartened, knowing this presentation would be very hard to top.

Then came Caleb's mother, who was a physician. She taught the kids the many functions of the main organs in the human body, bringing with her a kidney in a jar. The class was rowdy as they passed the jar around, amazed to be able to see a real kidney, like the ones they had in their very small bodies.

"Next we have Owen's father, Mr. Lee, a very successful entrepreneur in Loveland. He will talk about his job as a CEO of an investment company." The teacher announced.

Victor faced the twenty children in front of him, who were looking at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to start. In almost 15 years of being a CEO, he had attended important meetings with notorious businessmen, oil tycoons, rulers and politicians. He had dinner meetings with the mafia and other shady characters, people that held incredible power and precious information, but could also kill him without a second thought.

He could conclude, without a shadow of a doubt, that children were scarier.

For a second he wished he could be like Andrea. She would know what to do. She would probably greet the children with a goofy gesture, making them all laugh. She was fun and witty, she knew what children liked. Victor paused, remembering his wife’s words through his son’s mouth. He could be funny too, he always made her laugh, it had become one of his favorite hobbies. Maybe she was right. Maybe he could do this. With a new sense of confidence, and with a side note to thank his wife for her encouraging words, Victor approached his audience.

“Good afternoon, Ladies and Gentlemen.” He started, ceremoniously. “First of all, I would like to thank you for your time and attention, and the honor of your invitation. My name is Victor Lee, and I’m the CEO of Loveland Financial Group.”

Encouraged by their teacher, all the children applauded.

“Before I begin to explain exactly what I do, let me start with a question. Who knows what an investor does?”

All the children were quiet until a little girl spoke.

“Is it someone who goes to the market and screams ‘Buy! Buy!’ and ‘Sell! Sell!’?

“You mean the stock market?” Victor chuckled. “Yes, it can be, although there are many kinds of investments. At LFG, what we do is help companies grow by lending them money, which they pay us, but with interest. Does anyone know what interest is?”

Many kids raised their hands.

“Is it when things aren’t boring? Like, they are interesting?”

“Ha. No.” Victor forgot that the words would have a different meaning to five-year-olds. “For example, someone asks LFG for ten dollars. The company lends it but asks in return for eleven dollars. That extra dollar is the interest.”

“That’s not very nice.” A freckled boy raised his hand. “Sharing is caring.”

Victor felt himself blush slightly. The boy had made a perfectly logical remark that unfortunately didn’t fit in the financial world. And he didn’t have the faintest clue on how he could explain it better.

“It is nice, because my dad doesn’t just give the money. My mom and dad work with the companies to help them grow, and they get to keep the tools she gives them forever. My dad gives them the money and asks for more because he also helps them get better.” Owen chimed in, basically saving him. Although it wasn’t exactly accurate, it wasn’t wrong either. Victor couldn’t be more proud.

“That is correct and beautifully worded, Owen, thank you.” He smiled at his boy. “Now, to fully understand the kind of work that a CEO of an investment company does, I would like to invite you all to be, for ten minutes, CEOs.” He ceremoniously declared. “Owen, could you help distribute the boxes and the candy to your friends?”

Owen quickly obliged, and in a moment, all the kids had with them a box of cherries and a lollipop.

“Ok, imagine you are the CEO of an investment company-”

“What is the company called?” The freckled boy asked again. Victor suppressed a sigh of exasperation.

“Whatever you want to call it. It’s your company.”

“Can I call it Unicorn?” A little girl raised her hand.

“Yes, you can. Now…”

“Can I call it Wayne Enterprises? Do you think I could be Batman?”

Victor’s memory took another trip down memory lane, to the day his wife blackmailed him into making that ridiculous Batman recording. He felt his cheeks getting slightly warmer. Luckily, the teacher intervened.

“Alright class, it’s nice to see you this excited but we need to let Mr. Lee speak, alright?”

“Thank you. So, as I was saying, imagine you are in a meeting, as CEOs, and two different companies are asking for investment: a lollipop factory and an orchard that grows cherries. You can pick only one. Which one would you pick? Place your hand on your choice.”

Every single child, except for one, held their lollipops. He turned to the girl that picked the cherries.

“Interesting choice. Why would you invest in the cherry producer?”

“Because I want to invest in a company that makes a lot of money. Cherries are more expensive than lollipops.”

Victor smiled at her insightfulness. She was probably a CEO in the making.

“True, but cherries only grow in the spring, that’s why they are more expensive. The candy factory can make lollipops all year.” He retorted. “You still think the orchard makes more money than the candy factory?”

“Yes, because my mom will let me have cherries but won’t buy me candy.” A boy chimed in, and other children agreed.

“Demand, very good, we need to see what sells best. What else would you use to make a decision?” Victor was excited, watching the proverbial wheels turn in their little heads. “What does it take to produce each of the products?”

“You need a factory to make lollipops. In an orchard, you just need to water the trees.”

“Very well, and you need sugar, and flavors and other ingredients, while in the cherries’ case, is given for free by nature. So, have we decided on the orchard?”

“Yes!” They screamed in unison.

“Seems like we have a unanimous decision. And for the record, what we just did here is a very simplistic version of a risk assessment, a study every investor needs to make to know if the investment is worthwhile. Of course, there are other things I do as a CEO, but I can’t possibly describe them in such a short time.” He paused for a moment, all the children’s eyes on him. “Does anyone have any questions before we finish?”

“Are all CEOs men?” A girl asked from the back.

“Of course not. Women can be CEOs too, my wife is a CEO from a different company. And if you ask me, she’s more successful than I am.” He made a silly face, and all the children laughed.

He couldn’t believe it was going so well.

“Anything else?”

“My father says businessmen are dicks in a suit.” A boy declared, while his father looked like he was close to infarction.

“Timothy!” The teacher chastised.

“Well, I can tell you that can definitely be true in some cases.” Victor spoke wholeheartedly. “In any area, you can find good and bad professionals. But let me tell you all about the three qualities I feel a good CEO should have.” Victor raised his hand, lifting his fingers as he spoke. “Intelligence, resilience, and responsibility. Intelligence because we need to know where we stand at all times and make quick decisions, and they better be the right ones, or else we can lose our business. Resilience because the financial world is a fluctuating one, and everything may change in a blink of an eye. We must be resilient enough to embrace the change, and make it work in our favor. And lastly, responsibility, because as we invest, we are not only dealing with our money or a faceless company. We can change the world with our choices, allowing technology, health, and education to evolve so there is improvement in everyone’s lives. I personally invest only in companies where employees are treated with fairness, and environmental rules are respected. We need to put the power we hold to good use and make this world a better place. If we all understand the smallest of our actions can impact the world tremendously, I’m sure miracles will happen.”

“Well, that was brilliantly said.” The teacher cleared her throat, starting to clap. “A big applause to Mr. Lee, thank you for being with us today.”

Victor returned to the car with a smug smile on his face, and a sense of accomplishment he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He had done well, he had honored his son and made him happy. However, as he started the car to leave, he saw his son through the rearview mirror, lost in thought.

“Everything ok back there?” He frowned at the mirror. “Is there something upsetting you?”

“No, I’m ok.” The boy looked up.

“You’re happy?”

“Yes.” The boy smiled.

“I think the presentation went well.” Victor started the car. “Your friends seemed to like it.”

“Yes, it was fun! And we had candy and cherries as a snack, none of the other parents brought snacks.”

Victor smirked, adding that point to his mental scoreboard.

“So why the long face?”

Owen seemed to momentaneously return to his thoughts before he answered Victor’s question.

“I don’t think I want to be an entomologist anymore.”

Victor gave his son a knowing smile.

“I knew the parrot would interest you.”

“No, parrots are dumb!” Owen seemed slightly offended. “I want to be a CEO, just like you.”

Victor could remember himself, at the same age, saying the same thing to his father, to get his approval.

“Owen, you can be whatever you want to be. I will still support you, no matter what you decide.”

“Then you’ll teach me?”

Victor smiled widely, his heart filled with pride.

“I will teach you everything I know.” He was about to offer the keys to his kingdom, but then remembered how he refused the same from his father, wanting to make his own path.

The epiphany came suddenly, clearing his vision and the fear he couldn’t shake from his heart: he had traveled a different road from his father in so many ways. He was a present and loving husband, with a healthy relationship with Andrea. And he was a present and loving partner, caring and supporting his son in every step of his life.

And that meant so much more than being a powerful CEO. Those were the footsteps he wanted his son to follow. The ones that led to happiness.

Author's Note: This project has been going for a year now (it started in February 2020) and it won't be over any time soon, so I would like to ask you, as much as possible, for your support, because we still have a very long way to go. So, if you enjoy the work, don't forget to comment and reblog. It gives it traction and enables other people to learn about it, and for me to get more excited about what I do.

#victor mldd #mlqc victor #love and producer fanfic #li zeyan #Growing Pains - Series #growingtogether #victor x oc #dad victor

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icerosecrystal · 3 years

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Jasonette - A Second Chance Pt. 1

This one-shot contains major character death as well as blood and violence. BTW, to clear up their ages at the beginning of the story.

Alfred: IMMORTAL, MY CHILDREN

Bruce: 44

Dick: 29

Jason: 24

Marinette: 23

Tim: 21

Damian: 14

(Marinette’s POV)

Ladybug had failed all of Paris. She had gone into today’s battle, thinking that she and her partner Chat Noir would work together to defeat Hawkmoth. But, right when she had asked Chat Noir to take Hawkmoth’s miraculous, he froze. He then did the worst thing she could imagine he laughed. Chat then walked up to Hawkmoth while Hawkomth chuckled, “Little Bug, even your partner doesn’t support you anymore. Just give up.”

Ladybug froze, her mind racing. Her partner had betrayed her. He had decided that the cause they had been fighting for the last decade was no longer worth the fight. (I was going to make you’ll do the math, but then I saw I already told you Marinette’s age above, lmao.) She screamed in frustration and then shouted, “ Never!”

Ladybug or Marinette was a great fighter, especially after having been in the superhero gig for so long. But, Chat Noir was also pretty good, and he was allied with both Mayura and Hawkmoth. It was safe to say that the odds weren’t looking well for Marinette. She was growing tired, and Tikki didn’t have much energy left within her.

That’s when it happened, Marinette made a mistake. The next thing she knew, Hawkmoth had her pinned to the ground and had pulled off her miraculous, consequently revealing her identity. Hawkmoth handed over her miraculous to Chat Noir, who put it on. Chat, then turned into a deep purple, and a voice asked him, “What do you wish for, oh young one?”

Chat replied, “I wish for the rebirth of my mom, Emilie Agreste.” Marinette’s heart stopped. Her ex-partner was Adrien Agreste. And if he’s assisting Hawkmoth, that must mean that Hawkmoth is Gabriel Agreste, her idol. Then Natalie Sancoeur must be Mayura. Marinette came to those conclusions in a matter of seconds. But, after a minute, she started feeling sluggish. She felt her heartbeat slow down. She was so tired. She just wanted to sleep forever. She didn’t feel so good at this point. Through her blurry vision, she saw a woman that looked like Adrien’s Mother appear. As Emilie returned to full consciousness, that’s when Marinette started losing consciousness. The last thing that she heard in a whisper was, “ A life for a life, that was the price.” Before she closed her eyes, succumbing her body and mind to the darkness that lay ahead.

(Talia POV)

Talia Al-Ghul was expecting a lot of things today. What she was not expecting was to find Paris in a mid-battle, for one of the heroes partners to betray them, the villains winning, and then said hero dying. She looked at the body of the girl that everyone was staring at and thought she didn’t deserve to die like this, plus she might be useful to the league. Talia pulled up her mask to cover her face and then blended in with the shadows. No one actually so her until she grabbed the girl and disappeared. Her actions prompted a lot of commotion back at the battle location.

Talia boarded her plane, carrying the body in her arms. She was slightly worried about the potential effects the Lazarus pit could have on her. She had experienced the worse side-effects, courtesy of one Jason Peter Todd-Wayne. Talia could still remember his screams as he clawed his way out of the Lazarus Pit and started to attack all the assassins with the intent to kill anyone and everyone. They had barely managed to restrain him. She hoped that this girl would not receive similar side-effects. But, based on the amount of trauma and betrayal she held within her like Jason, it would be inevitable.

Once Talia arrived at the league with the dead girl, she walked out of the plane got some bandages. Talia then took the girl, or rather Marinette. She found out from a face scan that pulled up all her legal documents as well as her background information, to her father, Ra’s. Once she arrived before her father, she bowed her head in respect for him.

“Ahhh, daughter, you’ve returned. And who is this you’ve acquired.”

Talia answered, “Her name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, twenty-three-years-old, and an excellent fighter. She lived in Paris, France, and was the main hero. Today was the final battle, and her partner ended up betraying her, getting her killed in the process.” She then handed over all of Marinette’s legal documentation as well as her background info to her father.

Ra’s looked through it and then asked, “How would she be a useful asset to the league?”

Talia responded, “After what happened with Marinette, she would have a thirst for revenge on the people that wronged her. I’m enunciating that we can use that to our advantage. The only problem is that Marinette carries around a lot of trauma, betrayal, and loneliness like Jason Todd. I’m concerned that she might have the same reaction for dipping in the pit.”

Ra’s nodded, considering the idea and agreeing that a person with the thirst for revenge would be a useful addition to the league.

Talia watched Ra’s, hoping to get an idea of what he was thinking. He then beckoned for her to follow him. He leads her to the Lazarus Pit, and Talia now knew that Ra’s supported her decision. She put Marinette down and wrapped her in bandages before dipping her in the pit. What happens next is alarming.

Marinette has the same reaction as Jason. This time though, everyone was ready. Talia quickly took hold of her and started whispering how she got to her destination and how she came back to life. Unlike Jason, though, Marinette doesn’t have as much of a temper, which helps Talia efficiently calm her down faster. Talia then tells Marinette, “Would you like to be an Assasin and fix those who have wronged you?”

Talia wasn’t asking. They would force Marinette if she refused, but they wanted to be her ally rather than as her foe. But what would she choose?

(Marinette’s POV)

A burning sensation was all Marinette felt. But she was supposed to be dead. So, what was she doing alive she got out of the green ooze that she was inside. Marinette frantically looked around while clawing the bandages on her to get rid of the burning sensation. When it didn’t work, she tried to claw her way out of the goop to ease the burning until someone caught her around her middle. The same person took her out of the green goop and started whispering reassurance in her ear. Marinette relaxed until the women asked a question that would change everything, “Would you like to be an Assasin and fix those who have wronged you?”

The logical side of her brain argued that she shouldn’t yield herself to killing others, that it was wrong. The other side of Marinette’s brain felt hazy from dipping into the ooze. It was also hazy because of her grief, pain, betrayal, trauma, and loneliness argued that revenge was the only way to go. She slowly let the murky part of her brain take over until revenge felt like eating ice cream on a hot summer day, great. She nodded her head in agreement with the proposition. The woman smiled and then introduced herself as Talia Al-Ghul, the demon head’s daughter. She spent the rest of the day explaining everything about the league to Marinette. Talia also explained rules that applied specifically to her. By the end of the day, Marinette had an outfit that she would use on missions and during training. Talia then left Marinette to settle in. Marinette looked around the room and sighed, getting ready for experiencing this every day from now on.

(Four months time skip)

It had been four months since Marinette became a member of the league of assassins. And as expected, she was a valuable member of the order. Her need for revenge drove her to work harder on missions.

One morning, Talia awoke Marinette with some news. “You will be going to Gotham to check on my son, who should be 14 now. You will observe how he communicates with his family, and if there any problems arise, you will assist them. Report back to me every day, understand?”

Marinette nodded, “Yes, Mistress.” Talia nodded back and then left to get the plane ready. Marinette wore her usual assassin outfit.

Marinette then went outside and stood before Talia. Shed waited for Talia to give her to okay to board the plane. Once she did, they both got on and reviewed everything they knew about Damian and the Waynes. By the time they arrived in Gotham, Marinette had memorized the information of every single Wayne. She said goodbye to Talia and tracked down Damian, watching him from afar in the shadows.

(Time Skip of a Week)

It had been a week since Marinette started observing Damian. She had to say that he was growing soft. Although, it had been four years since Damian was under league supervision. Everything was going all right on the bat’s patrol until it wasn’t.

The bat family was fighting some thugs at the docks when a thug snuck behind Damian, or rather Robin, and shot him in the stomach. Damian fell to the ground in pain, but still alive. This action provoked Marinette to let out a deep, feral growl. She then grabbed some of her throwing stars and launched them at the thug, effectively killing him in the process. Her actions lead the bat clan to shift their attention to her. They quickly fought off the remaining thugs. They then walked up to a bleeding Damian and Marinette standing in front of him as if to guard him.

Batman then asked, “Who are you, and why are you here?”

Marinette answered, “My name is Dark Angel. I was sent by Mistress Talia to look after Damian for a little bit and see how he’s fitting in.”

Batman then stated, “You killed the man.”

Marinette shrugged, “It comes with the job description. I’m an assassin. You know, a murderer who targets people that would be better off dead?”

Batman sighed, “Nobody is better off dead.”

Marinette shrugged again, so done with this conversation, “Speak for yourself.”

(Jason’s POV, sorry for the abrupt change)

Jason stared at the woman in front of him, who must be his age. He recognized her behavior from somewhere. Jason suddenly realized where he had seen this behavior before he exhibited this demeanor after he came back to life. That meant that she had died, and Talia was using her want for revenge like the league used his.

Jason asked, no stated, “You died.”

Dark Angel stiffened, “Who wants to know?” Yup, her reaction confirmed his suspicions she had died and was then brought back by the Lazarus Pit. Most likely recently by how raw her emotions still were.

Jason walked up slowly to her and remarked, “You died and later brought back to the Lazarus Pit. You probably have a thirst for revenge. I can see a lot of you in me. I can help you.” He tried to be as gentle as possible, which was hard considering his character.

Dark Angel backed away while shaking her head, frantically", No, you know NOTHING ABOUT ME! YOU DON’T KNOW THE BETRAYAL, THE TRAUMA. YOU KNOW NOTHING!!!“ She then ran away, trying to get away from the Bat Clan.

Jason looked over at Bruce, or Batman, with determination clear, in his eyes, "I’m going to go find her.”

Batman nodded, “Take RR and Nightwing with you. I’m going to take Robin back to the Bat cave, where Agent A can patch him up. Once you find her, bring her to the cave so that we can talk with her.”

Jason then nodded and grappled in the direction that Dark Angel went, with Red Robin and Nightwing following in his wake. After running for a little bit, they caught sight of her blending in with the shadows. They decided to split up to cover more ground. Jason ran as fast as he could along the rooftops when he finally caught sight of Dark Angel. She looked to be crying. When she saw him, she jumped off the roof and opened a portal falling through. Jason jumped after her and barely went through in time. He then fell on top of something and groaned. Jason got up and looked around. He realized that he was standing on the Eiffel Tower, was he in Paris?

(Marinette’s POV)

After Jason or Red Hood confronted her and tried to compare herself to him, she ran. She started crying, the emotions too overwhelming to not cry. Marinette cried for a little bit. But, she then caught sight of Red Hood running up to her. She glared at him and asked Kaakki to open a portal. A week after she had managed to become an assassin, she had returned to her room and got the miracle box back in her possession. Talia had no idea, and Marinette had no desire to tell her.

She jumped through the portal, she landed on the Eiffel Tower, and took a deep breath. Behind her, she heard a loud thud and then a groan. She whipped around to find that the idiot Red Hood had followed her through the portal. She saw him get up and look around before a look of realization spread through his face. Marinette saw him look at her. She quickly ran away. She felt him running after her. But she had a mission, and she wasn’t going to stop until she accomplished it. Marinette’s mission the demise of everyone that ever hurt Marinette.

She ran to the Agreste Mansion and went through Adrien’s open window. She saw him sitting at his computer happily looking at something. That asshole, he killed her and was enjoying life himself. “Adrien,” she crooned sweetly, “How are you? Are you having a good time since you got your mother back by killing someone else?”

Adrien looked frightened, “How do you know that?”

She walked up to him, hips swaying. She then pulled out her dagger and slid her finger across the blade, “I know a lot of things about you. Like how you are a selfish, asshole.” She then pulled him closer to her and put the dagger to his neck. “You deserve to die, slowly and painfully, and I will happily help you.”

Before Adrian could scream for anyone, Marinette had already stabbed him in the stomach where his lungs were. She was going to do his heart or behead him, but that let him off too easy. The look of pure horror etched onto his face as he fell on the floor with blood all over him, and the floor had Marinette smirking. She grabbed the cat miraculous off of Adrien’s finger and the ladybug miraculous off of his ears. She knew that Red Hood was behind her, but she couldn’t care less.

Next, Marinette went looking for Gabriel and Natalie. It looked like Emilie was out right now. So, Marinette wouldn’t kill her. She also didn’t take part in killing her. She found Gabriel and Natalie in the house’s atelier. Once they saw her, they prepared to attack her. But she had already whipped out a gun and had shot both of them. She had tried to shoot them approximately below where their heart was. As Marinette got closer to examine them, she realized that she had damn good aim. The bullets had hit them directly in the area she was hoping. Close enough to kill them, but far enough to cause them pain. Their blood was gushing out of them, and Marinette could tell that they would die. She grabbed the butterfly miraculous and the peacock miraculous. She brought Adrien downstairs to lie next to his family. Marinette then went back into the shadows with Red Hood following her right as Emilie arrived.

Marinette watched as Emilie looked at her dead family and started sobbing. Emilie then took notice of the note next to them.

It read:

THEY TOOK A LIFE, AND NOW I DESERVE TO TAKE THEIR LIFE FROM THEM IN TURN. EMILIE, YOU ARE SPARED BECAUSE YOU TOOK NO PART IN ANYTHING.

~DARK ANGEL

Marinette watched Emilie drop down to her knees and continue wailing while crushing the note in her hand. Marinette watched closely, and she wondered if her parents did the same or if they replaced her like everyone else. She shook the thought off and then went to another house, the house of Liar Rossi.

Marinette her house, and went around it trying to find the liar. She found Lila in her room, practicing her crying. Marinette smirked to herself. She always knew that Lila had to practice crying with how many crocodile tears she let loose every day. She snuck up behind Lila and whispered, “I’ll give you a real reason to cry.”

Lila stopped her tears and turned around, scared out of her mind. “Who are you?”

Marinette snickered, “I’m Dark Angel, or more specifically, you’re worst nightmare.”

Lila started crying again, except this time, her tears weren’t as fake as her life. “PLEASE DON’T HURT ME, I’LL DO ANYTHING! I HAVE A LOT OF INFORMATION ABOUT THIS COUNTRY’S GOVERNMENT!”

Marinette took a knife out and ran it across Lila’s skin, causing a scream out of her, “Here’s the thing, Ms. Rossi. You are extremely selfish. You were willing to sell out your country just like that. Plus, I know you’re lying. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. So, here’s the deal, the more you lie, the more I torture you.”

Lila spent the next thirty minutes telling lies. When Marinette knew she would be confessing, she gave Lila’s phone to Red Hood so that he could film her confession. Lila then broke, “OKAY OKAY, I AM SO SORRY!!! I DON’T KNOW ANY OF THE CELEBRITIES I CLAIM I DO. I DON’T HAVE TINNITUS EITHER! MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG WASN’T BULLYING ME, I BULLIED HER. I THREATENED HER IN THE FIRST PLACE WHEN SHE FOUND OUT MY LIES AND THREATENED TO TAKE AWAY ALL HER FRIENDS. I SUCCEEDED. I WAS ALSO WORKING WITH HAWKMOTH AND HELPED MAKE ADRIEN WHO WAS CHAT NOIR BETRAY LADYBUG!!! NOW PLEASE DON’T KILL ME!!!”

Marinette sneered and said, “Don’t worry, I won’t kill you.” Lila looked at her in hope until she stabbed Lila in the stomach, saying, “Oops, I lied.”

As Lila died, Marinette went to Red Hood and took the phone from his editing the video before sending it to all of Lila’s contacts. When she sent it to Alya, she asked her to post the video on the Lady blog before watching it. She then looked over at Red Hood, who was looking at her in shock. “Don’t worry, pretty boy. I’m not assassinating anyone else. Just torturing them.”

She then went to each of her classmates’ houses and tortured them, depending on how loyal they were to Lila. The person who Marinette tortured the least was Juleka, and the person that she tortured the most was Alya. Once Marinette had finished torturing all of her ex-classmates, she looked over to Red Hood and said, “Okay, I’m ready to go now.”

Red Hood looked at her, confused, “If you were going to go with me either way, why did you run?”

She shrugged, “Your clan had found me out. I wanted people dead. Plus, I was emotional as hell after your whole speech. I also still need to check up on Damian.”

(3rd Person POV)

Red Hood nodded and beckoned for her to open a portal. Marinette did so, and they both dropped through, ending up in the Bat cave. Their sudden appearance surprised all of the current occupants of the cave. Marinette walked up to Damian and asked him, “Are you okay?”

Damian replied, “Tt, ” and then nodded in affirmation.

Before Marinette could say anything else, Batman told her, “I now want you to explain to us who you are, why you’re here. Got it!” He then gave her the Bat glare in case she wouldn’t listen to him.

Marinette nodded and then spoke, “Hi, my assassin name is Dark Angel. My birth name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” A flash of recognition flashed through everyone’s faces. Unbeknownst to Marinette, Hawkmoth had been broadcasting the final battle. Everyone had seen when Hawkmoth had revealed her identity and when she had died. “I was a superhero in Paris. My partner and I were in the final battle when I found out that he had betrayed me and Hawkmoth’s side and was playing me this whole time. The villains won, and they made a wish to revive a dead person. In return, someone else had to die. In this case, it was me. The next thing I know, my whole body feels like it’s burning, and I’m inside of a pit full of green goop. Mistress Talia promised me revenge for the people that had hurt me. I excepted her offer. Since then, I’ve been an assassin for four months now, training every single day for hours. Talia told me to watch your family for a little bit as a mission, which was what I was doing until Damian got shot. You know the rest.”

Red Robin looked at her skeptically, “Where did you and Red Hood go when we tried to find you.”

Marinette looked at Red Hood before carefully answering, “I had some business in Paris, so to speak.”

Nightwing then asked, “And what was this "business” and how the hell did you get to Paris?“

Marinette sighed, rubbing her forehead to ease the throbbing, "You’re not going to let this go, are you?” When she saw everyone shake their head, she answered, “Fine. I was able to get to Paris because I have a miraculous that can open portals.” She showed them the miraculous and then demonstrated it to them. “Once I got to Paris, I committed my revenge. I killed my old partner, Hawkmoth, and Mayura. I also killed a liar who took away everything from me and was also working with Hawkmoth. I also exposed the liar. Finally, I tortured all of my old friends. Yay, I told you everything. Can I go now?”

Everyone looked at her, horrified that she was talking so casually as if she hadn’t just admitted to murderer and torture. Before anyone could say anything, Red Hood shouted, “No!” While taking off his helmet.

Marinette looked at him in irritation, “No? And why fucking not?”

Jason looked over at her, “Because I’m not letting Talia use you anymore.”

Marinette sighed, knowing he was right. Now that she had gotten her revenge, her mind was a lot more clear, and she realized why Talia wanted her to be an assassin in the first place. “Fine, so I’m staying here?” Everyone nodded, still in a daze from everything they just learned.

Marinette shook her head, and Alfred (THE AMAZING GOD THAT HE IS) came into the Bat Cave when Marinette was going to ask someone to lead her upstairs. As Marinette walked upstairs, she hoped that things would work out for her.

(one month time skip)

Marinette had been staying with the Bat Fam or rather Waynes for a month now. She honest to kwami had no idea how they were still alive. The number of times they pulled a weapon on each other was frightening, to be honest. As she got to know each of them, they felt more like her brothers and father, except for one person, Jason damn Todd. She really liked him. He was so gentle with her, and at first, she didn’t understand why. But one day, Jason told her his backstory. To her surprise, it was similar to hers. Once she figured that out, they connected on a whole other level. In fact, they had both sworn that they would try not to kill again. And naturally, the one guy who will probably ever understand her, she had to have a crush on.

Another problem was Talia Al-Ghul. She still hadn’t come to find Marinette. So she was either planning something big. OR SHE WAS DEAD! What, a girl could dream. Marinette then heard a crash downstairs. She ran downstairs and what she saw had her reeling. Talia was in the middle of the living room, playing with her dagger. Once she saw Marinette, she smirked, “Marinette, you’re here. We can go back to the league now.”

Marinette shook her head, “I like living here, and I don’t want to leave.”

The smile that was on Talia’s face disappeared, “Even if you do like it here, you still have to get revenge on the people that wronged you.”

Marinette clicked her tongue, “That’s the thing, I already did revenge on them. I killed the main ones and tortured the rest.”

Talia yelled in defeat, “Well, if you won’t come back, then you’ll just die!” (I know I made Talia super sweet at the start of the story. But let’s face it. She’s a manipulator and a bitch) She then charged Marinette with her dagger in hand. But before she could reach Marinette, she was dead on the floor with multiple bullet holes going through her.

Marinette, with a gun in her hand, sank to her knees sobbing. The Wayne family, having heard the gunshots, hurried to the first floor. There they found a sobbing Marinette and a dead Talia. Jason hurried to Marinette and pulled her into his arms. “Hey, Pixie, what’s wrong?” Marinette shook her head, still sobbing. The rest of the family, seeing that Marinette wasn’t calming down, decided to give some words of support before taking Talia out of the room and cleaning the blood.

Jason picked up Marinette, who was clinging to his leather jacket and took her upstairs to his room. He whispered soothing words in her ear the whole way. Once they arrived, he put her down on the bed and cuddled her, “Marinette, Pixie, Baby, I need you to tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.”

Marinette’s sobbing started dying down. Eventually, it was only an occasional tear with some hiccups and sniffs. “I made a promise that I wouldn’t kill anymore. I broke that promise. Deep down, I really am a murderer.” She started sobbing again.

Jason sighed and crooned to her, “Oh, baby. Do you really think that? I used to murderer people all the time. Does that still make me a murderer? No! It doesn’t make you a murderer either.”

He then started kissing her cheek, her eyelids, her button-nose, her forehead, her head, her jaw. He trailed kisses down her neck while speaking, “I- love-you-so-much. And nothing-is ever-going- to change-that. You- are not- a- murderer.” He then planted a fervent kiss on her lips, which she deepened.

They continued kissing until Marinette broke away to say, “I love you too. You helped me so much when I was broken.”

Jason looked at her in the eyes with a raw intensity, “Then if you love me, never blame yourself for what happened to you.”

She smiled softly, “I promise”, before kissing him once more, with a deep passion.

He pulled away this time and told her, “You have a chance to have a second chance at life. Not many people get that. Use that second chance to fulfill everything you ever wanted. Leave the past behind. Be who you really are. Who you were before everything. But move into the future, with me by your side.”

“A second chance,” Marinette whispered, “A second chance.” Before kissing him once more. She was going to be okay. They had each other, and they were going to get through everything together. Together no matter what, they were going to give themselves a second chance, and they were going to spend every second of it together.

#mlb x dc #maribat #batman #miraculous ladybug #jasonette #jason x marinette #marinette x jason #marinette dupain cheng #jason todd #talia al ghul #league of assassins #batfamily #salt #adrien agreste #gabriel agreste #lila salt #marinette died #revenge #assassin marinette

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mxgilray · 3 years

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I... have some thoughts on the Loki finale. It was not what I was expecting, but I'm still hopeful for season 2.

This felt like a meh finale, like how a lot of season finales felt in Spring 2020 when they unexpectedly quit filming and had to cut things short by a couple episodes thanks to the pandemic. Only this was the planned out finale, they should've given a bit more oomph. I'm quite a fan of exposition and character development usually, but all the dialog was centered on He Who Remains, so it felt like our main characters were just side pieces.

Plus, the final "cliffhanger" of Mobius not knowing Loki and the statue of HWR replacing the Time Keeper statues felt quite lackluster. Not sure how they could've made it hit harder, but it didn't deliver the "oh shit" vibes they intended, but maybe that's cuz Mobius not remembering Loki has been an expected plot line on tumblr for half the season so it wasn't a blindside.

I get the point of the Sylki kiss. From what I've seen on tumblr so far I feel like the nuance of Sylvies actions was lost to most people (both Sylki fans and antis just Didn't Get It). It wasn't a big declaration of love like the fans are grasping onto it as, and it wasn't shoving selfcest into the canon to keep the heternormativity like antis are accusing it of being; it was Sylvie using Loki's attachment to her to trick him. She needed Loki out of her way, and she knew the only way to get past him and get He Who Remains' tempad was through emotional distraction. She used his love against him and betrayed him, a kiss was simply the most efficient way to do it. I did a whole post last week about Sylvie's feelings towards Loki, but to sum up I firmly believe that while Loki harbors some romantic feelings for Sylvie, she feels strictly platonic towards him, but is very aware of his attraction. She took advantage of his care for her to get the upper hand during their fight. Heck she even foreshadowed it herself in ep 5. "There are more important things than friends" "like taking down the TVA" she told Loki that taking down whoever is behind the TVA comes before everything; it's priority #1 in her book, above friendship or love or trust. Loki proved that his priority now is the greater good of the universe not her revenge, so Sylvie has no use for him anymore (partners only when it's convenient, because she is a Loki and that's how emotionally stunted Lokis behave).

I would like to point out the irony of her being worried about Loki betraying her, only to turn around and betray him. It's in the realm of "people who cheat assuming their partner is cheating" / "not using a turn signal when changing planes to avoid being cut off because when you see someone else use their signal you tend to cut them off", it's assuming other people will behave like you do. Sylvie feared in ep 5 that Loki would betray her in the end because she knew if it came down to it she'd betray him. But the thing is, he's actually grown past that. Loki is finally thinking about how his actions can damage others, not just his own wants and needs. Sylvie saw this moral change in Loki, realized there was no chance of getting him back on the blind revenge boat, and decided to exploit his newfound selflessness and emotional attachment to get him out of her path.

This whole season Loki has been maturing emotionally and growing into the best, most heroic version of himself. Sylvie, on the other hand, still has that deceptive, selfish, can't trust anyone persona that every Loki develops to combat insecurity. She hasn't had the emotional growth needed to see the bigger picture, she's still trapped in her own self centered mindset. As such, she disregards the impact her betrayal will have on Loki, the impact killing HWR will have on the universe. She doesn't even take a beat to consider whether revenge is still the right path cuz she doesn't practice self reflection yet; revenge has always been the goal and she refuses to give herself a chance of changing her mind. I hope in season 2 she'll get some character growth, now that her 1 goal has been accomplished.

Now on to Mobius. I enjoyed his scenes, I wish we'd been shown more of what he did to reveal the truth to the rest of the TVA. Again, I feel like too much time was given to HWR's monologing and not enough was spent on the other characters so Mobius and B-15 got very little screen time to display their plan. I am happy Mobius got the opportunity to throw Ranslayers betrayal back in her face, and his attemp at attacking her...my boy you work a desk job you ain't no fighter, she used to work in the field collecting variants, you had no chance. Also, where the F did she go??? I kept expecting her to show up at the end of time but she didn't. Where did Miss Minutes send her??

I'm sad Mobius doesn't know Loki anymore, but I can't say I'm surprised. I've got a few different thoughts on what the heck is going on with him and the TVA:

Sylvie accidentally sent Loki way back to a time early on in the TVA before HWR created the Time Keepers for anonymity. As such, this is a past Mobius who has yet to meet Loki or even learn of Loki's existence. If this is the case, then I think Loki and Past!Mobius's interaction at the end of ep 6 will be the catalyst for him becoming a Loki expert. The 63 branching timelines Mobius and B-15 are discussing before Loki interrupts are from some currently unknown disaster that'll be a plot line in s2. (This is my least favorite theory, but nevertheless a possibility)

HWR was correct when he said that if Sylvie kills him and destroys the TVA then another variant of him will just start it all up again. This variant didn't care to remain anonymous, hence the big statue of him, but kept all the memory wiped variants working there. Because time is a chaotic bitch, the changeover from one HWR variant to another may have been near seamless at the TVA and just involved a quick memory wipe of anything relating to the Time Keepers, Loki and Sylvie, or knowledge that the TVA are all variants. The 63 branches may be thanks to something Renslayer is doing like killing all the HWR variants in existence in order to negate the need for the TVA. The branching could also be from Sylvie's revenge still, we have no idea how much time has passed between her killing HWR and a new HWR taking over so the branching she caused could still be an issue.

There have actually been multiple TVAs running simultaneously, each in their own multiverse. Each one employs memory wiped variants, each one is in charge of a certain subset of timelines, and all work under the one HWR. Sylvie used HWR's tempad to eject Loki back to the TVA, but she accidentally sent him to the TVA of a different multiverse not realizing that's a Thing. The 63 branching timelines Mobius and B-15 are discussing are indeed from Sylvie killing HWR, but there's only 63 as opposed to the countless we saw diverging from Sylvie's perspective because this TVA only sees branches on timelines within their own multiverse. Mobius doesn't know Loki because he isn't our Mobius and in the multiverse he works in maybe Loki's aren't as much of an issue because none of them ever escaped the TVA like Sylvie did (or none of them have Tom's face so he doesn't recognize him as a Loki). If this is the case, then Loki is gonna have to find his way back to his own multiverse in order to be reunited with his Mobius, and that could end up happening thanks to Renslayer. Miss Minutes gave her a file that I suspect only HWR should have access to. Maybe it was tempad coordinates for other multiverses? It took til the 31st century for the multiverses to be connected despite Tony figuring out time travel in the 21st century because travel between universes is much harder, maybe HWR is still the only one who knows how to do that. (If this theory is correct then all the time travel done during Endgame was through timelines within one multiverse) Also just thought of this but what if the reason there are so many extreme variations of loki that grew to adulthood is because the criteria of "sacred timeline" is different in each multiverse. Classic Loki and maybe President Loki and Kid Loki are from the same universe as MCU Loki, but red haired Loki, Croki, Boastful Loki, etc are all from other universes. Think about it, Classic Loki, 2012 Loki, and MCU Loki all have an exact identical path up until their nexus event (or death in MCU Loki's case). I think other than identifying as female, Sylvie's childhood was identical as well and that her nexus event was coming to terms with her adoption as a child, which erased the catalyst of 2011 Thor's plot and would've changed everything for her future path. Had her adoption remained a secret and she grew up on asgard, I believe her story would mirror MCU Loki's. It mildly hit me weird that there would be such wild variation amongst Lokis, even with him being a shapeshifter, because there's a rigid sacred timeline (that supposedly the MCU movies have all adhered to) and they all felt like too big of a divergence to have been left unchecked so long. If boastful Loki was telling the truth about getting all 6 infinity stones then he should've triggered a nexus event as soon as he got more than the 3 he is "supposed to" interact with, unless in his multiverse the sacred timeline criteria is different. Another theory: the agents employed in each TVA are from multiverses other than the one they're working in. It would make sense, keep them from running into their own past by fully detaching each agent from their home timeline/universe. So the Principal!Renslayer that B-15 found will never in any future become the TVA judge we know. The one we know maybe came from the universe Loki got sent to, and that's how the two of them will end up crossing paths again.

#loki series #loki spoilers #loki #lokius #sylki #sylvie laufeydottir #mobius m mobius #tva loki #time variance authority #loki meta #mcu #marvel

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darling-i-read-it · 4 years

Text

Kaiseki

2x01

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, mental health problems, jail, angst

Author’s Note: Season! Two! This may be a little harder cause Will is in jail and it’s to big a plot point to change. But i love will graham so much dudes. I hope you guys enjoy!

I took lines directly from the script so some may seem familiar. Those sentences are not mine.

Official Episode Summary : The psychological thriller based on the Hannibal Lecter legend returns. FBI profiler Will Graham has been framed for Lecter's crimes and wants revenge.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director

Tag List: @llperfectsymmetryll

(not my gif)

“Kaiseki. A Japanese art form that honors the taste and aesthetic of what we eat,” Hannibal said to Jack Crawford as he sat at his table. The lighting of the room was pleasing but also semi threatening. Not that Jack noticed. He wasn’t very good at noticing things. Hannibal himself had noticed that.

“I feel guilty eating it,” Jack said, looking down at the dish. It was amazingly well put together. It was no surprise that Hannibal had done it.

“I never feel guilty eating anything,” Hannibal said with a small mischievous smile. Jack took a bite and chewed a bit.

“Can’t quite place the fish.”

“He was a flounder. I last prepared this meal for my Aunt Murasaki under similarly unfortunate circumstances,” Hannibal said. Jack waited for him to go on and when he didn’t he nodded.

“What circumstances were those?” Hannibal shrugged.

“A loss. This is a loss. Will is a loss. We’re mourning a death,” Hannibal said gently.

“Will’s ‘death’ is on me,” Jack said. Hannibal took a bite of his food and chewed for a moment, considering this.

“It’s on both of us.”

“I doubt that Y/N would consider you had anything to do with it,” Jack suggested. Hannibal smiled a tad at the mention of your name and the fact that you likely wouldn’t suggest Hannibal was much to blame.

“I tended to be kinder to her and more compassionate to Will,” he said.

“Abigail thought that you liked them both a bit more,” Jack said chuckling. Hannibal shrugged.

“We’re all friends.”

“Do you have friends Hannibal?” Hannibal shrugged.

“I had Will. And of course Y/N.” Jack pointed his fork at Hannibal.

“I don’t understand how you managed to stay in her good graces.”

“I suppose she had about as many friends as I did.”

“I still can’t comprehend it. Will’s gonna be convicted of five murders. I’ll be convicted of one,” Jack muttered.

“You’re not on trial.”

“I will be. In the halls of the FBI. So will you. According to Will Graham, this was all you. Another place where I’m not sure why Y/N continues to see you.”

“Will was your bloodhound. You can’t ignore where he points.” Hannibal smiled at his plate. “And I do believe you’ll be on a trail in her mind as well.” Jack sighed.

“What’s one more person to convict me,” Jack said.

Alana stood beside you. You had a few papers in your hand. The only reason you were still Hannibal’s secretary at all was so that you could have the hours off to come and advocate for Will. Alana handed you another piece of paper and you looked over it.

“You’re a goddess Alana,” you muttered. In your hands you held all the complaints and disagreements Alana had ever had with Jack about Will. Behind the scenes she had been formally sending in a few letters when she believed, like you, that Will should not have been put into the field.

“You can give Jack all the hell you want but until the FBI looks into it, nothing will happen. And Will’s entire life has changed due to Jack’s actions. It deserves to be documented.” You nodded, a smile gracing your face. She put her hand on your cheek and made you look at her which you did. “You don’t look so good.”

“Yeah well,” you shrugged. “This has put a rare smile on my face,” you promised. She pursed her lips. She looked into your eyes and moved her hand away but she still looked concerned.

“I’m doing everything in my power to make sure that Will Graham has a fair trial and that he isn’t convicted.”

“Because you think he did it but he wasn’t in the right mind,” you muttered.

“You do too right?”

“I don’t think he did it period.” She shook her head.

“Then who did? And don't’ say Hannibal otherwise I’m going to have to throw you in the hospital.” You shook your head. You felt tired. You hadn’t been getting much sleep. It was probably an attachment issue when it came down to it. Not being able to sleep beside Will was harder than you thought it would be. The bed always felt cold. Other than that, you had been worried about Will here. Your mind wandered when you tried to sleep about everything that was going through his head. You had the dogs. He had Frederick Chilton.

“I don’t know who did it Alana. I would like to converse with my boyfriend about that but Chilton has limited visiting hours the bastard.”

“I’ll try and talk with him. We’re sort of friendly. I think I yelled at him about something a while back but he doesn’t seem to remember it.” You nodded and handed her back the papers on Jack.

“Make him pay.” She nodded.

“I will.”

The phone rang as you sat on the porch with the dogs. Winston sat in front of you while the others played and whined at the door. He had been doing that on and off since Will was arrested. You picked up the phone and pet Winston, trying your best to calm him down.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Bev said. You tried to make some emotion come out when you spoke next but nothing emerged.

“Hey.” Bev cleared her throat. You didn’t want to fight her. You truly had no interest in it. In fact, Bev had always been in your corner so the worry that she might not be today would have made your heart hurt if it wasn’t already pretty numb with bitterness.

“I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing,” she said.

“As well as you may expect. But I appreciate you calling.” She hummed.

“I’m sorry this happened. I know you didn’t ever agree with Jack.” You scoffed.

“You could say that again.” She laughed lightly.

“I’m going to see Will soon. For help on this case. Jack doesn’t know. But I kinda wanted to tell you first so that he didn’t tell you and then you were by default pissed at me.” You weren’t very pleased to hear that but there wasn’t much else you could do.

“I would go in saying you support him or something. He might help you more.”

“Thank you.”

Hannibal noticed you at the desk. He wasn’t having many patients and didn’t expect to see you. You still had on your coat and looked like you weren’t staying. But still, you looked over the computer and let out a sigh.

“Do you need something?” he asked. You looked up, surprised to see him. He also didn’t look like he was staying. “I thought I gave you a few days off.” He knew he did. He did it explicitly.

“I just thought I left the necklace Will gave me here. I guess not. It’s probably in his car but I have no idea where he put the keys,” you said and laughed dryly in remembrance of sweeter times. “Where are you off to?”

“I have to go and see a crime scene,” he said. Your eyes went wide and another dry laugh left your lips.

“Nice to see you ‘the new Will Graham’,” you muttered.

“I don’t think Jack intended it to be like that.” You shook your head.

“No because you can’t be nearly as good at it as Will was.” Hannibal was the only person to notice the shift in your emotions correctly. Not from happy to sad. It was from normal to bitter. He would likely see the same shift in Will Graham if he decided to go see him.

“Would you like to come?”

“Is that the best idea? Doing my boyfriends old job with Jack Crawford watching me like I was going to slip up at any given second?” Hannibal shrugged.

“Perhaps it would be good for you. Step where Will once did.” You shook your head.

“Thanks Hannibal but I can’t today. Maybe another murder.”

“Off to see Will?”

“Off to attempt to see Will. Perhaps have a fist fight with Frederick Chilton. I’ll decide in the car.” Hannibal laughed lowly and walked over to you. He put a hand on your arm and you leaned into his touch, happy someone was touching you.

“If you ever need a dinner,” he started and you nodded.

“I’ll call.”

“You’re not worried about what Will says about me are you?” he asked. You shrugged.

“I don't know yet. I just have to talk to him.” Hannibal nodded and you looked up at him. “I care about you Hannibal.” He was silent for a moment and then hugged you, placing his hand on the back of your head.

“I care about you as well.” And for once, Hannibal was not lying.

Chilton shook his head.

“You will only hinder his therapy,” he said simply. You shook your head and walked up to his desk.

“Do you think for one second I would do anything that could cause Will to be this bad ever again? I can’t simply not see him.”

“What if he doesn’t want to see you?” Chilton asked. You were stumped at that. Your face fell.

“Did he say that?”

“Not in so many words. Just maybe that it would be better for you to live a life on your own.” You shook your head and a small smile went over your lips.

“You’re lying.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I know Will Graham better than anyone in this whole world and he is just conceited and rude enough to tell you to go to hell before saying that about me.” Chilton looked up at you from his spot behind his desk. You stared hard into his eyes.

“Alright,” he muttered. “Once a week. Thirty minutes.” You nodded, happy your point had been made. “Come back tomorrow.” You nodded and turned around, taking your small victory with you out the door.

“How was Dr. Bloom’s visit?” Hannibal asked. He sat across from Chilton at dinner in his home.

“He asked her to hypnotize him to recover memories. This is delicious,” he muttered, pointing at the food.

“Was he successful?”

“Only in playing Dr. Bloom. It’s sad to see a brilliant psychiatrist fall for such hoary old chestnuts,” Chilton said simply.

“She wants to believe him. I do, too.” Chilton looked disappointed at that and looked down at his plate, then back at Hannibal.

“Will’s girlfriend paid me a visit earlier. She seems like a piece of work. I understand why they go so well together.” Hannibal shrugged. Chilton could tell he was acting as though he were indifferent despite clearly having a side. He just wasn't sure which side that was.

“She’s stubborn but rightly so,” Hannibal said.

“What, you think I should let her see him? I agreed to once a week but I’m still on the fence.” Chilton chewed on a bite.

“I don’t see how it could hurt. In fact, if you plan to utilize the cameras and audio you might get something out of it,” Hannibal suggested. He was very aware that Chilton wanted nothing to do with something he couldn’t get a thing out of.

Chilton thought this over.

“Perhaps I could give her a few extra minutes. If you think that would be wise.” Hannibal shrugged.

“Maybe I could think about it.”

Hannibal sat in the car with you outside of the hospital.

“Will has made accusations against me. Very serious ones,” Hannibal said.

“Again, I’ll make up my mind about those when I talk with him.” You weren’t sure why you were so nervous. It was just Will. You weren’t scared of Will or anything. Perhaps it was the anticipation.

“But bear in mind who you know me to be,” he said. You nodded and thought really hard about what you knew Hannibal to be.

“You hid the fact that Abigail killed someone,” you muttered. “Who says you weren’t the murderer after all?”

“You and Will also hid that. Perhaps you’re the murderer.”

“If I was the murderer Jack Crawford would be sprawled very neatly across a particular place,” you muttered bitterly.

“I don’t doubt that,” Hannibal said chuckling. You turned to him and he held your hand, squeezing it once. “Best of luck.”

You got out of the car.

The walk to the cell was a long one. It was odd, the anticipation of knowing Will was so close. When he came into view his eyes were closed. At the sound of your footsteps they opened.

He turned to you slowly and you smiled subtly.

“Where were you?”

“Fishing,” he whispered.

“Sorry I interrupted.” He shook his head.

“I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.” You walked up to the bars and put your hands on them. He did the same, your hands touching. He was warm but not boiling as he had been when he had that nasty fever.

“I only have like, 30 minutes.” He nodded.

“Step back to the white line ma’am!” the guard at the end of the hall called. You turned around but didn’t move an inch.

“No!” you called back. Will laughed dryly.

“You’re supposed to be scared of me,” he whispered. You shook your head.

“Ma’am!” The guards walked over to you and you shook your head angrily, stepping back to the line, so far away from Will. But you didn’t want to be kicked out.

“I’m not scared of him,” you said to the guard.

“Doesn’t matter. The white line,” he said to you. You nodded stiffly and he walked away. The distance felt greater than it really was. When the guard closed the door at the end of the hall you stepped back to the bars.

“You’ve never followed any rules have you?” he asked, laughing.

“Not once. Now go on.”

“I resurfaced a memory.” You nodded, gesturing for him to go on. “Chilton can hear us.”

“That was the memory?”

“No,” he said and laughed a bit. “Just telling you we need to be quiet.” You nodded. “Hannibal shoved that ear down my throat.”

“Abigails?”

“No the other one.” You nodded, accepting your ignorance.

“And you think he did all this?”

“I know that they already looked at him and Beverly looked over everything but I know he did this. When i remember what happened to me I can tell you more.” You looked at the ground.

“Did he do stuff to you while I was in the other room?” Will shook his head.

“Don’t blame yourself.”

“I do. I blame myself for letting this happen and if Hannibal, no matter how much I like him, did this to you than how can I ever-”

“Just don’t trust him.”

“He’s all I have out there. Him and Alana. And the dogs.”

“How are the dogs?” he asked.

“Winston misses you. Sometimes he thinks he misses you more than I do,” you whispered.

“You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping.”

“Neither do you. But I like not cutting the hair,” you muttered and messed with his curls. He gripped your hand tighter around the bar. “I wish you could come home.”

“Me too. Honestly.”

“Soon,” you promised. “Alana has some things she wants to look into.”

“And I keep firing lawyers.”

“FBI lawyers,” you corrected. “I would too.” You looked at your watch and he glanced over to it as well.

“20 more minutes,” he whispered. His eyes caught yours and he gestured for you to sit down. You both did. “Tell me about your day.”

2x02

#will graham x reader #will graham imagines #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter imagines #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #will graham x reader x hannibal lecter

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tiredcath · 4 years

Text

Zukka Fic Recs

after atla came back into pop culture i found myself falling back in love with zukka which resulted in me reading (almost) every zukka fic on ao3 and here are my favorites

Transference by The_Quatermasters (146k)

In a modern AU, Zuko has to deal with settling in a new school after expulsion, dealing with an angry ex and an abusive father. Maybe his new found friendships and growing closeness with Sokka will help him make it through.

Borderlines by The_Quatermasters (73k)

Three years after the war, the work still isn't quite done and the Gaang is scattered across the continents in their efforts to help the world recover. When Aang and Katara pay visit to the Fire Nation where Zuko is Fire Lord and Sokka acts as Ambassador for the Water Tribe, sparks fly between the siblings over Sokka's life choices.

Ashes Inside When You Finish Your Song by Muncaster (47k)

Sokka writes lyrics for his sister’s band. Zuko plays piano and is unnecessarily nice. Fellas, is it gay to write love songs about your friend and his golden eyes?

(AKA, a modern band AU featuring The Gaang, crappy software equipment, homoerotic lyrics, and the realization that maybe, if you think about a guy every night before you sleep, you just might be in love with him.)

sirens & sleepless nights by Satirrian (54k)

Life can be pretty hard living in a city under a totalitarian regime. Between adhering to the ridiculous curfew, keeping himself from being gunned down by a passing patrolman, and paying his unnecessary tolls to the state for, say, breathing, Sokka has his hands full just getting to work. Add aiding a resistance group on top of that, and Sokka should really be getting paid for this.

Then, one night, Sokka finds an injured patrolman collapsed in the street, who tells him with blood on his lips, “If the patrol finds me, I’m dead.”

Real Slow by surveycorpsjean (21k)

“I see.” Zuko closes the scroll. “Is the Water Tribe sending a replacement?”

“Uh yeah,” Sokka gestures to himself dramatically. “You’re looking at him.”

First by HoneyBadgerMole (20k)

Zuko has been nurturing a crush on the jock in his AP Psych class but he has been too scared to talk to him until they get paired up for a project.

the benefits of getting a flat tire by LesbeanLatte (64k)

Zuko makes an impromptu decision to run away from home after a disturbing conversation with Azula. Unfortunately, some plans are better when they're actually, well, planned. Zuko isn't counting on getting a flat tire almost as soon as he's far enough away from the city to really be in the middle of nowhere.

Sokka is immediately taken with the stranger he and his friends find stranded on the side of the road during an afternoon joy ride. However, he has no idea what he's getting involved with and a kind attempt to help a fellow teen in need turns into a massive coverup for a missing person who just so happens to be the son of the mayor of Ba Sing Se.

Azula was just trying to help her big brother - in her own way - by telling him things she thought he deserved to know. Now the situation has gotten wildly out of control. Did she enjoy seeing Zuko upset and afraid? Of course. Had she intended to endanger his life? Not necessarily, but of course, her idiot brother overreacted to everything and that's what happened and now she doesn't know how to stop the chain of events she's indirectly put in place like dominoes.

Operation Leverage by snowandfire (50k)

Sokka's instincts are onto something great. Zuko just wants to serve tea and brood in peace. Ironically, Toph is the only one who can see what's really going on.

The Stingray by Smediterranea (24k)

“You’re not carrying me.”

“I don’t mind,” the lifeguard says easily.

“I can just hop over.”

“On sand?”

Zuko will never admit it, but being carried feels pretty nice. The lifeguard sets him down and eyes him warily.

“Are you really all by yourself?” he asks in a worried tone. “No friends in town you can call to check on you?”

“No,” Zuko confirms. Tears are forming again with alarming speed; his foot throbs painfully with every passing second.

“What kind of burrito do you want?”

“You don’t have to —“ Zuko repeats.

“I’m getting al pastor. You like al pastor?”

AU: Zuko falls for Sokka, the super hot lifeguard who helps him after an unfortunate encounter with a stingray.

it's the illusion of separation by argentoswan (110k)

Sokka takes a job washing dishes at the new tea shop in town. It's a great gig, until he finds out his only coworker is his old high school bully. Sokka really should quit, but he also really needs to afford rent.

Also, Zuko is kind of hot now.

People like to think war means something by trying_to_spell_both_our_names_at_once (21k)

Sokka was the first to leave.

Somehow that hurt the most. . . . Not long after Zuko becomes Firelord, forces gather in the South and next thing he knows he's thrown into a civil war with almost no one by his side. Maybe healing is longer and more complicated than it needs to be, but with the right people by your side it is always possible.

a way that will destroy you by anothermistakemade (14k)

In the wake of Ozai's death, Zuko begins to fall apart. Sokka will do everything in his power to make sure that doesn't happen.

or, zuko might be losing his mind, but he also might just be really sad & traumatized

Those Who Favor Fire by CSHfic, VSfic (30k)

After a failed attempt on his life, Sokka fakes his death, dons a disguise, and infiltrates the would-be assassin's ranks in an attempt to bring them down from the inside.

Zuko learns of his husband's tragic death, mourns, and vows revenge.

Words Mean More at Night by DaisytheDoodleDog (28k)

Even ten years after the end of the war, rebellions rise and risk the balance of the nations. Sokka was willing to do anything to protect his people, which is perhaps why he's leading an army against the rebellion, attacking only as a last result. But Sokka's unwinding, it's taking a toll on him, and the only thing keeping him grounded are the letter Zuko and him exchange late in the night when no one can see the messenger hawks. But as they say, nothing's fair in love and war.

another word for wanting by eurydicees (23k)

Sokka begins to dream of his soulmate when he's eleven years old, and it just gets harder from there. Or, 125 moments soulmates share, and none of them come easy.

(In which your dreams are your soulmate's memories, and Sokka dreams of an all-consuming fire, growing and eating at his soulmate until it burns up the connection between their souls. In which they find love anyways.)

It Has Only Just Begun by Kirazalea (39k)

There is a bitter triumph in crashing when you should be soaring

Zuko had now chosen the path his uncle had been trying so hard to show him; he had someone who believed in him, who maybe loved him; he was travelling with the Avatar and they apparently had a plan to end the war. By all accounts, Zuko should be smiling.

But Uncle was gone (captured by Azula, and Zuko didn't think she would kill him, but he didn’t, couldn’t, know for sure). The Avatar was barely breathing (he could still die at any second and there was nothing any of them could do about it). Azula had conquered the last Earth Kingdom stronghold (all those innocent people who were now at her mercy). It seemed like, for every step Zuko took forward, the world sent him back three more.

But he was determined to push forward anyways. He needed to make his uncle proud, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

aka: zuko joins the gaang at the end of season 2

Nightmares and Reveries by HisMomoness (20k)

Zuko doesn't sleep because when he does, he's haunted by nightmares. Sokka worms his way into a job and makes it his mission to get Zuko to relax. Lots of head pets and one vacation to the South Pole later, Zuko might just be getting the hang of it.

Cue pining, some fluff, and eventual romance.

The One Who Stopped Time by ohhihoney (66k)

All hope was lost to Zuko until one day, his uncle asked a random person at the Jasmine Dragon to tutor his nephew. Gritting his teeth and embarrassed beyond the point of no return, Zuko gave the blue eyed boy his number.

Little did Zuko know how much Sokka would change his world.

Rubbed Off Stars by ohhihoney (2k)

Sokka wasn't going to just sit and watch the boy at the back of the bus cry while trying to rub off pride flags off his cheeks.

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WIP

Ozymandias, King of Kings by Think_of_a_Wonderful_Thought (168k)

After that fateful Agni Kai, Ozai makes a different call. Branded as a traitor and banished to a prison camp, Zuko learns how cruel the Fire Nation can be to its citizens. Three years, a water tribe raid, and an unexpected meeting with a gang of over-enthusiastic idealistic children puts Zuko back in the spotlight. The revolution is coming and it wants another poster boy, but Zuko is not willing to lend his face to the cause.

Another Brother by AvocadoLove (312k)

It was a mission of revenge. There weren't supposed to be any survivors, but Chief Hakoda couldn't bring himself to kill the Fire Nation boy. Against his better judgment, he brought him home. A Zuko joins the Water Tribe story.

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BONUS : zuko x jet

Something to Hold Onto by Wildgoosery (122k)

Since the day the walls of Ba Sing Se fell, the Freedom Fighters have struggled to protect what remains of the city and its people. Jet and his second command, a mysterious boy named Li, have spent the summer piecing together an army, hoping for a chance to take the city back for good. But Li is also Zuko, and the time for that secret is quickly running out. Soon, he'll have to decide exactly who he is, what cause he's going to fight for, and where his heart lies.

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years

Text

Satisfied, Part 37

First

~~~

There was silence as she stepped into the warehouse.

Of course there was. She was covered in blood, and it was pretty obvious from the splatter that it wasn’t her own.

She walked over to Joker, her posture stiff, her expression set in a grimace. She felt her grip tighten on the bag and gun.

She practically threw the stolen goods, probably would have if she’d felt strong enough to. Instead, she thrust it into his chest and turned on her heel to leave.

“Where are you going?” Asked Joker.

“Home. I have a day job and this is going to be a pain to get out,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even. Still, she stopped walking. He clearly was implying that she needed his permission to leave and, though she hated it, she desperately needed him to trust her so the Rogues would be able to. She supposed that she could stay for a bit longer. If he trusted her, then she would be allowed out to have some privacy. If he didn’t…

Well, she wouldn’t need to worry about having a breakdown.

“Is all this good enough, sir?”

“Let’s see, shall we?”

The man took his time as he rifled through the bag. She could feel his gaze on the back of her head, scrutinizing her, looking for... something. Whatever answer he got, he sighed.

There was a beat, then the sound of his shoes scraping the floor as he turned around to face the Rogues. “I don’t think she’s dangerous to us.”

There was a collective sigh of relief.

“But I don’t think that she’s cut out for the Wayne operation.”

There was a new silence.

Marinette felt tears threaten to spill over the corners of her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek. She finally turned back around to face everyone. “May I know why?”

“Well, if this is how you’re going to act after one little murder, then how are you going to kill anyone? How did you not catch this, Harls?”

Her eyes found their way to Harley, who looked like she’d been caught. She set down her Skittles and walked over to Marinette, wrapping her arms around her from behind. “Doesn’t matter if she can’t kill anyone, Puddin’. Her powers give us an easy in without alerting security.”

Joker nodded slowly. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned in so close to Marinette that the girl tried to sink into Harley’s embrace.

“Fine. You may go. I need time to think it over.”

She nodded quickly and pulled herself away. With a wave to the Rogues, she opened a portal to her apartment and dropped into her bathtub.

She changed the setting on her comm so she could hear everyone else.

“ -- lled someone!” Hissed Batman.

“Who cares? She can fix it, right?” Asked Red Hood.

Red Robin sighed. “Not without giving herself away as Ladybug she can’t. Anyone who’s done even a minute of research knows she has to be involved in the fight to use the Miraculous Ladybug thing.”

“So the options are to let Mr. Watson die or let the operation fail,” said Nightwing grimly.

“Good! Let it fail!” Yelled Red Hood. “She wasn’t doing well before this! Kid needs a break. She shouldn’t have to sacrifice her mental health for this!”

Robin sighed. “You heard Joker, they’re planning on killing at least one person at the Wayne Gala, probably more.”

“Then we think of a new plan! We have around a month and a half! More security!”

“This is selfish and you know it.”

“Hey, don’t you --!”

“Don’t you guys think I should get a say in this?” Marinette finally chimed in, her voice quiet.

No one said anything.

“I’d like…” Her lip trembled and she took a deep breath. “I’d like some time to think about it.”

After a moment’s pause, Red Robin spoke: “Of course. Would you like someone to go talk to you?”

She rested her head back against the tap. “No, I’m going to call over a friend.” Her eyes widened. “No offense or anything! I just wanted --.”

“It’s fine, kid, we understand. You have a long time before you need to make a decision, go ahead and take some time for yourself.”

She nodded. “Alright, see you on patrols tomorrow.”

She snickered as all the boys chimed in at once to tell her just how bad an idea that was.

“Kidding, guys.”

There was a collective sigh.

“Right, I’m heading out. Bye-bye!”

There was a chorus of ‘bye’s and she turned off her comm and detransformed.

Kaalki collapsed into her hands and Marinette whispered an apology, examining the kwami for damage. They weren’t hurt or anything, they just looked shell-shocked.

She set the kwami down on the edge of her sink and filled it with soap and water (to the horse’s preference, of course, Marinette wasn’t stupid). After a bit of searching she found the cake she’d baked before she left. She set it down on the edge of the sink for Kaalki to eat when she was done ‘bathing’.

Marinette then went to clean herself. She used a mix of cold water and baking soda to get the blood from her clothes and then decided it was about time to get her actual body clean.

She scrubbed her skin as hard as she could. Maybe, somewhere, she understood that she wasn’t helping by rubbing her skin raw but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She felt so… unclean. A sob threatened to escape her throat and she cringed, only rubbing harder.

Red and suds slid down the drain, she only scrubbed. Maybe if she did it enough she could be rid of this body. Become someone new, fresh skin with a fresh start.

Eventually, with pink skin and red-rimmed eyes, she turned off the water and stepped out. She toweled herself off and pulled on some pajamas, then dropped onto her bed.

She knew that the blood was still in her apartment, knew that there was a trail from her tub to her counter and then back again, but she couldn’t bring herself to do anything.

She picked up her phone and scrolled through her messages. Tikki settled down on the pillow next to her. The kwami had been doing better since she and Robin had used Plagg, though she clearly wasn’t at 100% quite yet. A tiny hand rested on her cheek and Marinette gave her a tiny smile.

She didn’t know how she felt about Tikki being around and active again. On the one hand: Tikki was back! Her friend was alive and well! Tikki wasn’t suffering anymore! On the other hand: Tikki was back. And she was getting the little exasperated look she usually got whenever she was about to get a light scolding.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The answer was no, but she knew what would happen if she said that. She’d get a tired ‘Marinette!’ and a stern look and she’d be forced to fess up anyways. She knew Tikki only wanted the best for Marinette, wanted her to be happy and healthy, but being the god of passion made it hard for her to express these feelings normally.

Not that Marinette could really say anything about that. There was a reason why she’d been paired with the goddess, after all.

She continued scrolling until she found the contact she was looking for.

“I’ll tell you in a minute,” she promised. “I don’t want to have to talk about it twice, though.”

Tikki looked disapproving, but allowed her to do this.

Definitelyforgottosleep: help

She couldn’t help but be nervous when they read her text and didn’t say anything, right up until she heard a knock on her door.

She trudged over and the moment she opened it Chloe rushed inside, first aid box in hand. “What is it this time? Gunshot? Stabbing? Poison?”

Marinette blinked once, her brain scrambling to figure out what was going on, then a quiet laugh bubbled from her throat. She closed the door behind her, shaking her head. “No, no, I didn’t mean like that. I wanted to talk.”

Chloe seemed torn between being annoyed and relieved. “So you want free therapy?”

She looked away, her face reddening. She supposed that was kind of what she was asking for, though the idea of admitting to it was weird. The whole topic of mental health and therapy had been mostly taboo during and after the Hawkmoth situation, because often reliving bad events would evoke negative emotions.

Marinette forced a laugh. “I mean, what would I even say to a therapist? Don’t tell anyone but I’m Ladybug and things are not going well?”

Tikki sighed. “Marinette…” Ah, there it is. A classic.

Chloe gave a small, tense smile. “You really should talk to someone.”

She opened her mouth.

“Someone besides us. A professional.”

Marinette closed her mouth.

While this was probably -- no, definitely -- true that professional help was needed, she didn’t know how she could even start. I killed a guy as revenge for him murdering my friend but I can’t prove this because they’re both actually alive right now so just trust me? I bisected a person with a portal? Sure, that would go over well. She’d either get thrown into an asylum or thrown into jail.

Instead of saying this, though, she gave a small shrug.

The three girls sat on the bed and Marinette chewed on the inside of her cheek as she stared at her hands. How does someone just start talking about the fact that they’ve committed two murders in three days?

But, eventually, the words came to her. She didn’t know when she started crying, but by the end she was curled up with her head on Chloe’s lap as she struggled to explain how she’d killed the clerk through choked sobs.

The two were silent. Tikki nuzzled herself against her cheek comfortingly. Chloe ran her hands through her hair. But they weren’t saying anything.

Marinette closed her eyes tightly. Now that she was done reliving it, it felt a little better than it had been before. Sure, she was nowhere near healed, but she couldn’t help but lean into the touch of her friends. It was nice to talk about her emotions, to actually let herself feel them. To know there were people who supported her despite everything.

Chloe finally spoke up: “So, what do you want to do?”

Marinette looked up. “I was kinda looking for advice…”

“Marinette… this isn’t something we can decide for you. Your mental health is important, but so are other people’s lives. Since we aren’t giving up either, we don’t really have a say,” explained Tikki gently.

“We have what we would do if we were in your situation --.”

“So tell me that!”

Chloe rolled her eyes and continued: “-- but, really, that’s for our own lives with our own morals. This is a question about your life and your morals. We can’t help you.”

She let her eyes fall back to her sheets.

Her decision, huh?

Red Hood had, shockingly, had a point. It wasn’t fair to ask her to give up her own mental wellness for others. Even if she was doing it willingly, she was still giving up a huge part of herself. While in a bad state, mind you, which could impair her judgement.

Still, if she went from a strict numbers point of view, it was one person’s wellness versus the wellness of at least one other person (but likely far more than one). No matter what, at least one person was going to end up suffering. Shouldn’t she just go with the option where there was a guarantee on only one person rather than a chance at hundreds getting hurt?

She knew what ‘Ladybug’ would do… but what about Marinette?

Her mind wandered to the clerk she’d bisected earlier that day. To that look of surprise and fear that would forever be etched on his face. She grit her teeth.

She couldn’t let that happen to anyone else.

~~~

I traumatized ya’ll I’m sorry

I’ll start doing trigger warnings

Listen guys next chapters are fluff I promise I’ll make it up to you --

I spent literal hours yesterday researching hinduism in order to think of what type of food to give Kaalki for one offhand line

And then I made a portal reference

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani @tropestropestropes @kitsunebell @keepingupwiththemalfoys @sassakitty @2confused-2doanything @too0bsessedformyowngood @all-mights-asscheeks @demonicbusiness @meg-an-ace @fantasiame @qualitypeacepainter @multplelifes @kokotaru

#timinette #timari #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #red robin #tim drake #maribat #satisifed

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belphegor1982 · 3 years

Note

not sure if you're doing the prompt list, but parenthood (6) with leonard snart and janet? 👉👈 i'm in love with your characterizations of len and his wife 💕

It took me two weeks, but there it is :D

Parenthood (DCAU)

When she’d been a kid, Janet had – very naturally – assumed that her adult life would match her parents’, or their neighbours: a house, a husband, a dog, a white picket fence, not necessarily in that order. And kids. Like an afterthought, something not really important so much as vaguely necessary.

She hadn’t thought about it until a couple of years or so into her and Len’s marriage. They’d had somewhat rocky beginnings: she’d been fierce, he’d been grumpy, and they’d both been so damn young they hadn’t seen how ridiculous they were, dancing around each other like they weren’t sure they were allowed this… that. ‘Relationship’ was too big a word. Whatever they had, though, they had kept, because it was good and it was theirs. One day it had hit Janet that Len basically only went back to his crappy little apartment to shower; one night they’d been in bed, sweaty and tired and stupid happy, and as Janet reached for the book on her bedside table afterwards while Len scribbled on his ‘heist ideas’ notebook like he’d been struck with sudden inspiration, she had realised in a rush that she wanted the rest of her life to be like this.

“Wanna get married, one of these days?” she’d asked, almost not nervous at all.

Len had stared at her long enough to make her start to regret asking. Then he’d given a small smile, the very rare sort that showed in his eyes.

“Sure,” he’d said, and that was that.

They’d gotten married six months later. Janet wore blue. Her parents showed up, despite the disapproval hanging thick in the air – her father convinced that she could ‘do a lot better than a thug’, her mother ice-cold at the thought of her daughter marrying ‘some two-bit crook’. Len had only invited his sister, a stunning young blonde who’d been friendly to Janet but still appeared put-out that the invitation didn’t extend to her boyfriend.

“He’s a jerk,” Len had said later, making Janet laugh.

“You’re a jerk, Len.”

“Not the same kind. He’s stuck-up. Lisa’s too good for him anyway.”

“Yeah, well. That’s not up to you to decide, is it? It’s your sister’s choice.”

“I know, I just… She deserves better. Better than she got as a kid.”

Janet had looked at him, long and careful, suddenly a little tense.

“Do you think she’s… not safe? With him?”

Len had blinked, then shaken his head.

“Nah, nothin’ like that. You can tell Dillon’s actually good to her. Nothing like…” He had trailed off, something hard and cold and sudden in his eyes like someone had slammed closed a pair of shutters. That had only lasted for ten seconds before he’d shrugged. “I just wish he wasn’t such a dick, that’s all.”

Then he’d abruptly changed the subject, and Janet had followed, because she knew precarious ground when she saw it.

* * * *

Living with someone in the intimate way meant noticing a lot of things about them, more or less willingly.

Len had cottoned on pretty early to her tendency to snap when she was tired or angry, and of holding nothing back then. She also caught him looking at the crisscross pattern of scar tissue on her knuckles from when she’d punched a wall, repeatedly, after the girl who’d been her best friend in school was battered to death by her boyfriend. “I only slapped her around a bit,” the bastard had said, and ten years later Janet still wished that she’d had the guts to punch him instead. She’d finally told Len about it one day, and seen his face go stone and his eyes ice. His cold fury had been comforting.

It went both ways. She noticed things about her husband, too. Like some odd scars she had a feeling he hadn’t picked up in juvie, the trace of a cigarette burn in the hollow of his right shoulder, or the mark – still chillingly precise even years later – of a belt buckle in the small of his back. She wondered whether Lisa had similar scars. Not that she’d ask. She and her sister-in-law didn’t have that kind of relationship.

Janet had a past. Len had a past. That was what being human meant. Sometimes that felt more like dragging a corpse through the dust wherever you went than a happy set of picture-perfect memories, but it was part of the whole package.

The major reason Janet didn’t entertain the idea of kids for longer than a passing thought was because she didn’t want any – for the moment, she told herself, even as she kept forgetting to really think about it. She’s grown up with the distinct impression that she hadn’t been wanted, or had come at an inconvenient time to her parents. The last thing she wanted was to make a kid feel like that.

The lesser reason was everything Len wasn’t saying. He wasn’t crazy about opening up about things either important or trivial, though he did anyway because they both liked to get their point across clearly. But she’d never, ever heard him say anything at all about his life before he’d struck out on his own, a couple of years short of eighteen years old. His sister Lisa was six years younger, and that was all Janet knew. Family, parents, home life – Len didn’t let anything slip. This, combined with the scars and a few odd reactions, carefully hidden under a lot of attitude, told her more than he appeared willing to share.

One day, when he’d been nicely mellowed out by a good score and a shared bottle of the good stuff to celebrate, she had asked him, “Do you ever think about having kids?”

The split-second look he’d given her still haunted her to this day. She had seen him angry, she had seen him silent, cheerful and surly and balking at house chores, but it hadn’t crossed her mind that he could ever be afraid.

“No,” he’d answered curtly. “Why?”

“Just wondering. Kevin from logistics just had his third the other day. Kept asking me when I’d finally get started on my own.”

“Kevin from logistics needs to mind his own damn business.”

“That’s what I told him,” said Janet, and Len smirked. “Anyway, he got me thinking. Turns out I don’t think I want kids. You know, at all.”

The relief on his face was as fleeting as the fear, but just as stark.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like what we have.” A pause. “You’ve really never thought about having kids one day?”

“Sure I did, once – for about five seconds. Weirdest five seconds of my life.”

She’d given him a look, half amused, half a smile. Relax, Len. You’re not getting interrogated.

“That bad?”

“Look, I don’t… Kids are weird, all right? Adults I can deal with. Besides, all I know is how not to be a father. No way I’m risking—no way.”

That was as close as he ever came to telling her why she’d never even heard Snart Sr.’s first name. But it was enough. They closed the subject and moved on to other things.

* * * *

And then it turned out that Metropolis and Gotham were not the only cities that could boast an actual superhero, because Central City quickly became aware of a lean, young-looking man in a red costume who called himself the Flash and went after burglars and thieves with superhuman speed. Whoever he was, whatever he was, he added an element of danger to her husband’s chosen profession, and Janet took an instant dislike to him and his big smug smile. Then she dismissed him from her mind quickly enough.

Len, though, was a very different story.

While he didn’t like the Flash any more than Janet did, the guy’s addition to the tried-and-true equation of cops and robbers added an edge that hadn’t been present before. Having an actual superhero in town made all of Len’s old research on absolute zero – and tinkering in the basement – not only relevant but useful. He designed a ‘cold gun’ from plans he’d stolen years ago, looking more excited than Janet had seen him in the last eight years, and worked hard to ‘up his game’.

Privately, Janet thought that, for a man who claimed to be as serious about his trade as Len did, creating a brand-new persona complete with parka, visor, and goofy moniker was hilarious.

Not that she ever actually laughed at him. Especially not the one time Len came back from a heist with an armful of cash and a weird look on his face.

“He’s a kid, Jan,” he said when Janet had asked him what could be wrong when he’d clearly got away with the loot unscathed. “He’s a goddamn kid. I don’t think he’s even old enough to drink.”

“What the hell is he playing at, then?” she exclaimed. “This job is not kid’s stuff! What was he thinking, that he could waltz in and play Superman, just like that?”

“I don’t know.” Len took off his visor and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then his eyes hardened. “And I don’t care. I like my job. If this guy thinks he can stop me, then he’d better be prepared to try harder.”

“I got him good today, though,” he said hours later, in the small hours of the night, after Janet’s hands had searched for his, cool and calloused, under the covers.

Something tensed inside in the region of her stomach.

“You didn’t kill him, did you?”

“Of course not,” he snapped, looking annoyed that she’d even ask. Janet’s guts relaxed. “I’m a crook, not a murderer. Besides, you know the second someone offs that guy, Superman or another big hero is gonna show up and turn the city inside out in revenge. It’d be like when a cop gets killed. They close ranks and start shooting indiscriminately.”

“So when you say you ‘got him good’ –”

“I just sent him packin’. Didn’t rough him up more than I would a cop. The kid’s got a mean right hook but he has no idea how real cold works, speed or no speed.”

Janet closed her eyes again and murmured, “Maybe he’ll quit, then.”

“Maybe.” Even half-asleep, she could tell that this ‘maybe’ meant ‘fat chance’.

“So… on the off-chance that today didn’t put him off, what are you gonna do?”

“I was thinking I might hit Drake & Hall Savings on Infantino Street next month.”

“I meant about the Flash.”

Len’s voice was low but certain when he said, “Me too. I’ll just keep doing my job, and if this joker is as serious as he claims to be, he’ll keep trying to stop me. But I’m not gonna drop everything just because of a kid in a onesie and a mask. I’ll just have to find ways to slow him down.”

The last thought that coalesced in Janet’s mind just before she nodded off was Did my husband just become a supervillain?

She fell asleep before the laugh passed her lips.

* * * *

While ‘supervillain’ might have been stretching things – not to mention the word made Janet choke up on laughter – Len’s new approach to the job was certainly different from the one he’d had before the Flash came along. He still refused the label, though, arguing that supervillains had powers, costumes, and delusions of grandeur, while he just had a cold gun, a parka, and banks to rob.

“Okay,” said Janet when she was in a ribbing mood, “what’s the Joker’s power, then?”

This usually earned her a deadpan look.

At least Len didn’t remain the only crook with a gimmick and an eccentric costume for long. Soon her husband had colleagues, fellow not-supervillains, some of whom not only willing to work together but also seemed to actually appreciate it. Their ‘powers’ were not innate, nor did they get them in freaky accidents; like Len, they either stole tech or were savvy enough to design it. And they all rejected the label of ‘supervillain’.

They were ‘rogues’. Or rather, Rogues. And Len – who knows why – took the place of the de facto leader.

Of her husband’s coworkers, Janet got on with Mick Rory the best. She liked his even temper, his slight smile, and the fact that he generally found it easy to keep a level head. Digger Harkness was his exact opposite, and her whole life she could never quite shake off the urge to slap him whenever he opened his mouth. The others were scattered along the scale between those two extremes: some were never quite sure what to do with her (or she with them – apart from making sure the old couch in the basement could be slept on and keeping an eye on their quickly-dwindling stock of coffee and beer packs), while others were more accommodating about having to spend time with ‘Len’s missus’.

One day Janet caught James pilfering one of the cookies she’d baked herself for the next night she’d have to spend alone. He looked so terrified at being caught red-handed that she refrained from rolling her eyes and told him to help himself and share with his musician friend.

She drew the line at pointing out Hartley was too skinny, though. Just because the young man was friendly and polite and, indeed, looked rather underfed didn’t mean she had any right to turn into her Aunt Debbie. She’d rather die first. Besides, she wasn’t the kid’s nanny, was she?

Nevertheless, the cookies proved a success. Like the couch in the basement, like the stocking up on beer packs, like the occasional patching-up of scrapes not serious enough to warrant a trip to the hospital, they surreptitiously became a habit.

* * * *

Over the years, Janet Snart slid smoothly into middle-age never regretting once her decision not to have children. Turned out being a woman, a wife, a friend, and a sometimes kind-of-support to a bunch of Rogues was quite enough.

Parenthood was overrated, anyway.

______________

Hope you liked, @orion-nottson 💜

Timeline notes thingy: Janet and Len met when they were about 25-27 and got married a couple of years later. ‘Dillon’ is of course Roscoe Dillon, the Top, who has a blink-and-you-miss-it cameo in the JLU episode with the Rogues, but since I don’t want to kill him or Lisa, I’m thinking he was her ice skating trainer, they fell in love, and didn’t go into villainy.

Wally was the first Flash of this universe - maybe the second and Jay was a superhero in the 1940s? - since he says “my uncle’s flying in” for the ceremony. Also, when he first pops up in this story he’s not quite 16, while Len is a bit over 30.

...I really overthink these things, huh 😅

#Anonymous #my stuff #rogues #fanfiction #ask reply #my OCs #Janet Snart

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whatudottu · 3 years

Text

Because I've held this off for too long, once again it seems that @nukeli has beaten me to the punch with colour schemes. Damn my procrastination or whatever, but I only just realised that I didn't put any mention of the 'fodder' classes (Vehicons, Insecticons and I suppose Autotroopers since I'm including them) and wanted to put down my thoughts before writing this up.

An added bonus here is that certain character have different alts (based on character changes and even the heavier focus of 'robots in disguise' that these Decepticons are after) so it's not just me ranting about colour schemes.

Yes, this was why I was complaining about the wiki altmodes, so deal with the vehicles I found instead. May or may not be due to me using images as references haha.

The Autobots (you are here)

The Decepticons Part 1

The Decepticons Part 2

Going in order of my notes, we begin with Cliffjumper. He’s obviously a 1970 Dodge Challenger and what colours I’ve given him are on the image below. Nothing much to say about a definitely dead character other than I didn’t just wanna make him blue.

Next on the list is good old Doctor Ratchet. I’ve had it in my mind ever since Nuke’s one post that SG!Ratchet was like Medic from TF2, so I guess I took it and ran.

To play an opposite to regular Ratchet, he comes across as affable and friendly but is really just doing the things he loves to people he hates. Autobots, Decepticons, hates everyone. He despises Optimus Prime too, but he can’t do anything unless he wants to be cooped up in his berthroom reattaching his limbs for it. Believe him, he tried.

As for altmode and colours, I spent way too long finding that he resembles a Mercedes Benz G-Class ambulance that I was ticked to find out he wasn’t at all. I special looked for the green coloured ambulance because Synth-En, duh!

Breaking in after the Doctor comes our local wrecker Bulkhead. I don’t have much of a read on this guy, other than the fact that I thought it’d be a cool idea for him to lose a lot of his memories after ‘TMI’, ya know, from the Synth-En recipe? Certainly not set in stone, but it could very well contribute to my accidental theme of memory (which only has some small links in the posts I actually created).

With the help of my car enthused cousin I have given our not so loveable mech a Terradyne Gurkha, a little more military than the wiki’s off-roader Lamborghini that I’m too annoyed to bother to look at. I thought that the military origins and the black colour scheme sorta allude to something something mindless military man. yada yada.

Following him is our ever wonderful Optimus Prime, or maybe Lord Prime? Haven’t thought too much about that. What I have thought of is this master manipulator who mayhaps also be a little bit delusional idk we’ll decide in the car.

I always loved the idea of a smiling SG!Prime, as if there’s still hints of this benevolent leader that the original has, but it’s warped and meant to add fodder to the war, encouraging mechs to fight to their deaths all in the name of not only the Autobots, but their Prime. Also as a warped version of the original, I wanted Shattered Glass Optimus to be deluded in the fact that Megatron will change, change at least, to submit to the real leader. Ain’t happening. That’s sorta there with Ratchet too, but well, you read Ratchet’s piece didn’t you?

SG!Prime is consistently purple and black, and whilst I have found a Peterbilt Semi Truck with that wonderful colour, it comes with white instead. Think about it, this typically evil colour paired with often innocent white, that’s like perfect for what I’m going for.

Fitting that he’s next, it’s time for Prime’s Second In Command Ultra Magnus. I’ve... really got nothing for him. Maybe he’s still by-the-books but like he finds loopholes just to commit atrocities? I don’t know.

I’ve given this boy a Mack Trident alt instead of Prime’s Peterbilt, just for differences sake.

After Magnus, we got our little bug Bumblebee... or is it. Because I wanted to change his colours a bit without going into Beast Hunter territory, I wondered if bees come in different colours and, low and behold, they do!

As for the boy himself, I think he was one of the bots manipulated by Prime himself to join the cause and, given his almost rewritten personality, has only lived through to this point in the war by sheer luck. This mech is an absolute menace, feral and powered by the need for Prime’s approval, tearing others with denta and servo more often than with stingers and blasters.

Now you’ve noticed I haven’t been using his name? That’s because he’s now Blue Band (I just realised he’s still bb haha)! He gets his name from the Blue Banded bee, and I found a Chevrolet Camaro to match.

In line with BB’s younger status, feast your eyes on Shattered Glass Smokescreen! Oh boy isn’t he a delight. His hero worship has essentially turned him to a prime (pardon the pun) candidate for Optimus to form into his perfect super soldier, who already would die for this deranged mech even before laying optics on this grand Prime.

So, he’s an absolute suck up, a straight up spoiled brat that has it harder than Blue Band for Prime’s acknowledgement, and is actively showing off and bragging that he’s Optimus’ favourite (he’s not, he just encourages it because that’s the easiest way to get Smokey to do what he wants).

Almost to reflect that (perhaps another pun) I found this gaudy Chameleon Chevy Corvette that absolutely SCREAMS show off.

Regrettably partnered up with him after the passing of Cliffjumper, Arcee has run out of patience. Not everything she does is motivated by Airachnid (what kind of character would that be? not a fun one) but she does often enjoy killing those connected with her. After Tailgate, she’s gotten a little mad, but her effectiveness otherwise increased so others never bothered to ‘fix’ her.

Having lost both of her partners, when she absolutely hates another (read; Airachnid and Starscream because he still kills Cliff) the best kind of revenge is putting her opponents in her own pedes. Oh, that mech’s growing attached to one of his comrades? Slice and dice them before their optics. Oh, that femme is finally coming out of her shell and making friends? Gore out their spark and hope that humans don’t decide this would be the perfect time to practice what they preach and save the life of that same mech with a hard to perform surgery that may or may not have been lost to time.

Okay so she’s obviously a Kawasaki Ninja (haha that’s kind of fitting) and I was tempted to make her pink like other Arcee iterations, but look at this fancy stuff right here. He hoo glowy look pretty!

Almost in leu of an Airachnid archetype, Wheeljack comes in. Though still quite the wrecker and ever the bomb enthusiast, instead of actively celebrating his impacts and going solo to stop the rust settling in, he’d rather be offed whilst mechs are distracted by his pretty explosion and lay forgotten in the dirt.

I may have accidentally rooted the unintentional memory theme deeply with the wreckers (Breakdown included) and maybe just took it and ran, giving everyone else a little connection, but Wheeljack is probably the most explicit in this idea. He hates nicknames (which i super Ratchet uses to mock him here in Shattered Glass) because that’s like... naming something you’re going to keep to quote that specific fic which, honestly, I can’t remember. Wheeljack split from others to stop them from remembering him and put himself closer to a situation where he can die alone, as morbid as that sounds. No grand death, no stupid death and no straight up suicide (generally that’s a VERY impactful kind of death) so just a mediocre end is what he’s been looking for for a little bit too long.

As for his colours, I apparently have no taste and should not have a car because I really like what this image has going for it. This C3 Corvette is probably one of the few cars that fits the straight up box of a sports car that Jackie’s got, so I’m sticking to it, so no, don’t show me the wiki I’m ignoring it this was too painful to give up dang it!

Okay, finishing off the bots, I have the Autotroopers. Sure, I’m not using a reference of a car to show off the colours, mainly because there’s also going to be flier troopers too, maybe... surely... definitely. Most depictions of them are white, you know, goodie goodie, and I’m tempted to just laze around and do just that. Instead, I think a goldish colour would be fun.

Aside from sharing a key colour with Ultra Magnus, essentially a war lawyer, which is perfect for subjects made to obey, a nice glimmering finish almost feels like they’re all manipulated by Prime to believe in the Autobot cause. I suppose the special devision, if there is one, would be a nice Prime purple, sorta like if it’s Optimus’ personal guard if he actually had any belief they would do their jobs.

Oh boy this is so long...

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years

Text

Cabin Fever

Jesse Katsopolis x Reader

Words: 1853

Summary: The Tanner’s are on vacation at a Ski Lodge in the mountains. Everything is fine until a snowstorm traps the family in their cabin. When Jesse’s wife, the reader, starts acting strangely, the rest of the family is determined to find out what the problem is.

Notes: All the Full House things!

You fell back against the bathroom wall, breathing heavily. While the rest of the family spent the morning getting breakfast at the main lodge, you’d spent it with your head in a toilet. You’d told Jesse that you had a headache, but soon it would be harder to hide the morning sickness. You still hadn't told anyone that you were pregnant.

It’s not that you weren’t happy. You were over the moon to be having a baby. The problem was that you had no idea how your husband would react. Jesse was finally at a good place with his band and a fussing baby didn’t exactly warrant rock and roll. You’d barely even been married for a year and now everything was going to change. How could you tell him?

“Aunt Y/N, we’re back!” DJ greeted, stomping the snow off her boots. You quickly washed off and put on your family-friendly smile as the rest of your nieces came inside.

“I brought you a muffin.” Stephanie grinned, handing you a muffin that had several chunks missing. She smiled sheepishly. “It looked really good.”

“Hey babe,” Jesse put an arm around your shoulders and kissed your cheek. “How are you feeling?” You convinced him with a smile.

“Better.” You ignored the churning in your stomach and the family decided to play Go-Fish around the fireplace. Of course, Michelle tended to cheat, hiding cards behind her back, but none of you said anything. The cabin phone rang and Danny went to answer it.

“So at breakfast, I met this boy- total babe- and he made me a cup of hot chocolate.” DJ gushed.

“Must be love.” You laughed, taking her queen of spades. Danny came back with a grim look.

“That was the main cabin,” He began, “due to the snowstorm moving in, all of the roads out of the park are closed. And they advise everyone to stay in their cabins until the storm blows over.” The girls definitely weren’t disturbed by the news. In fact, they were excited to get to stay for another few days. But you just felt even sicker. How many days could you hide when everyone was stuck in that cabin together?

The rest of the morning continued without any spells of illness. You just felt awful about keeping something so important a secret. You had to figure out how to tell him. Jesse hummed to himself as you lay on the bed, reading one of the books you found in the cabin bookshelf. He drummed his fingers on the window sill, watching the snow wildly blow through the air.

“Man, we’re going to be stuck here for a while.” He sighed, flopping back onto the bed at your feet. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“Hmm?” You looked up from the page you weren’t really reading anyway.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” He repeated, placing a hand on yours. “You feel cold.” He shifted up so he was sitting beside you, wrapping a blanket around the two of you.

“I’m okay, Jess, I promise.” You laughed nervously, laying your head on his shoulder. You curled your legs up underneath you and wrapped your arms around his middle. His shirt smelled like coffee from when he spilled on himself that morning. You felt your worries melt away, at least for a little while.

Your relationship with Jesse was definitely not “love at first sight”. In fact, you had been the lead singer in a band competing against Jesse and the Rippers for a gig. You were engaged to the bass player and had blue streaks in your hair. Jesse and the Rippers ended up getting the job and your fiance spray painted your band’s logo on their drums for revenge. He also slept with four different groupies that week. After that, your hair was normal and your band broke up, along with your engagement. Jesse found you in a drunken pity party one night and gave you a ride back to your apartment. The rest is history.

How different your life could have gone. If you had told your old fiance that you were pregnant while you were still part of the band, he would have done far worse things than leave you. Not that Jesse would ever hurt you… but having that paranoia didn’t go away. Your eyelids started to droop and from the sound of Jesse’s steady breathing, he had fallen asleep. Why were you so scared? He’s your husband for gods’ sake.

You slowly got up from the bed, careful not to wake him up. You went into the cabin’s unbelievably small kitchen, where Danny was making grilled cheese for Michelle.

“Hey,” He greeted merrily, “Do you want one?” The smell alone made your very empty stomach growl. He must have been able to tell by your expression and started to butter another piece of bread. “You look a little pale, are you feeling okay?”

“Do I really look that bad?” You laughed uncomfortably.

“Jesse said that you weren’t feeling well this morning, and I hope that you’re feeling better. We don’t want everyone getting sick while we’re stuck here.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that.” You muttered to yourself. He set the golden-brown sandwiches down in front of you and your niece. As soon as the food reached your lips, you felt your stomach turn violently. You stood up abruptly. “Excuse me.”

You ran to the nearest bathroom and fell to your knees, throwing up the few bites you had been able to eat.

“Michelle, stay here.” Danny said, knocking on the bathroom door. “Y/N?” When you were finished, you weakly stood and opened the door. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Danny…” You sighed. “I’m pregnant.”

“Oh.” His eyes went wide and he nodded with understanding.

“Aunt Y/N is going to have a baby?” Michelle exclaimed from behind her father’s legs.

“Shhhh!” You whispered. “Michelle, I haven’t told your Uncle Jesse yet.”

“I can keep a secret.” She grinned. You blew out a long breath.

“I’m in trouble.”

Two more days past and the snowstorm continued. No one had left the cabin and you were running out of firewood. The adults drew straws to see who would go to the main lodge to pick some up. Following in your bad luck, you drew the shortest straw.

“We’ll go together,” Jesse stated with a shrug. “It doesn’t look too bad this morning.”

“I honestly don’t mind going,” Danny said quickly, giving you a concerned look.

“I’m sure we’ll be fine.” You gave him a warning look back. So far, you had been able to keep Michelle quiet about the pregnancy. You were going to tell him. You just had to figure out the right moment.

The two of you grabbed your coats and boots and bundled up before heading out into the snow. The wind blew harder than you thought, making it difficult to see even a few feet in front of you. You locked hands with your husband and trudged through the drifts. The main lodge was only about a five-minute walk away from the cabin, but the further you walked, the more it felt like an hour.

“I think we’re almost there!” Jesse shouted over the roaring wind. Your hand fell from his and lifted up to your head.

“Not now.” You whined, falling back into a snowbank. The past few days were bad, but this felt different. It was as if the nausea was on steroids.

“Babe?” Jesse suddenly noticed his empty hand and started to panic. “Y/N, where are you?” He couldn’t see anything through the blizzard.

“I’m over here.” You groaned.

“Sweetheart, where are you?” He searched until he saw the bright red of your scarf. “What is it? What’s wrong.”

“I just need to get inside.” He helped you stand up again and rushed into the lodge, calling over one of the workers to grab you a blanket. He sat you down on one of the big leather couches in front of the fire, rubbing your hands in between his to warm them up.

“What the hell happened out there?” He asked, moving his hand to move the hair out of your face. His blue eyes were frantic, quickly draping the blanket over your shoulders.

“I’m okay, Jess,” You assured him, but another wave of nausea made it feel like your insides wanted to become your outsides.

“Cut the crap.” Any sternness in his voice only came from how much you scared him. “You’ve been feeling sick ever since we got here. Is it just a fluke, or is this something we should be worried about?”

“I mean… it’s definitely not a fluke.” The sickness started to subside and you smiled. “Jesse, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Now he looked even more worried. “It’s okay.”

“Well you’re starting to freak me out here,” He exclaimed, moving to sit next to you.

“Jesse, I’m-”

Suddenly, everyone else in the family burst through the doors, Joey and Danny clearly out of breath from chasing the girls.

“Michelle told us and we just couldn’t wait for you to come back!” Stephanie squealed.

“Besides, I thought I saw you fall and we had to make sure you were okay.” DJ added. “I’m really happy for you too.”

“I really tried to stop them, Y/N.” Danny grimaced. “And don’t either of you ever run out into a snow storm like that again.” DJ shrugged.

“It’s starting to die down.”

“Would someone mind telling me what’s going on!” Jesse shouted over the commotion. Everyone froze.

“You don’t know?” Stephanie’s jaw dropped.

“I haven’t had the chance to tell him.” You said through a gritted smile.

“Tell me what?” Jesse exclaimed again. You took his hand and tried to force down the butterflies.

“Jesse, I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you. With your music going so well, I wasn’t sure how you would react, but you’re going to find out sooner or later.” You laughed nervously. “Jess… I’m pregnant.”

The room fell into complete silence. You could almost hear the snow falling.

“Y-you’re… you’re… we’re going to have a-” Jesse fell back against the couch. Your heart was pounding. He was upset.

“I know that this gets in the way of the band and that it’s sooner than we thought-” He kissed you before you could finish and the family cheered.

“Gets in the way?” He shook his head, a smile spreading across his face. “How could you think that?”

“So you’re happy?” You sighed with relief.

“Happy?” He laughed. “Are you kidding? I’m over the moon!” He jumped off the couch and lifted you up, spinning around and making you laugh.

“Congratulations guys.” Joey beamed.

With grins on all faces, everyone headed back to the cabin where you waited out the rest of the snowstorm. It raged on for another night, but with a wonderful husband to keep you warm and the best nieces in the world to make you laugh, you didn’t have to worry about getting cabin fever.

#full house #jesse katsopolis x reader #uncle jesse #john stamos #danny tanner #the tanner family #twelve days of christmas

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vtmb2s · 3 years

Text

I had this from an ask meme from like 2 months ago or so and deleted the og post, I dunno why -_- anyway it was in my google docs so I’m reposting it

🔥

How did they first meet? What was their first impression of each other?

You know… fun Zion Canyon trip!! (credit for this one goes to Dany cause I don’t have good ideas but the whole ordeal would actually happen pre-game, because that’s when the courier would most likely sign up for a caravan I think)

Audrey thought Follows-Chalk was just messing with her when he said who they were gonna meet, no way this guy is still alive. Needless to say she hates him, she’s heard enough horrendous things about him in her NCR days to form her opinion. He didn’t like her much either aaaghhh how can you see through my fake atonement thing where I’m basically doing the same as before. (she doesn’t really see through it initially, she’s just too stubborn to buy the whole redemption arc thing from the beginning and ends up realizing that she just happened to be right). Understanding why she doesn’t trust him but also resenting that.

Who felt romantic feelings first?

fjjhdsjhd he does probably, vaguely. She has a much harder time accepting it considering his background and all that, so that came later.

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

YEAH! Both actually, enemies to vaguely friends to lovers and all that but like I said, Audrey has a much harder time coming to terms with this, she feels a little stupid about it because she knows what this guy has done!!! ( and he knows that, hence why he’s pushing it all down in favor of his stupid little revenge thing) He’s so weird and just looks like a mummy, what is there to like objectively. But she does. What thematic parallels do to a mfer 😔

Who initiated the relationship?

She did… Canyon visit nr 2, she technically fucking hates it there but for some reason she wants to go back (well. you know why), perhaps just a little vacation. And well there was clearly something there so why act on it. The most embarrassing moment of her life but it’s worth it I suppose.

Who said “I love you” first?

Also her… Sorry queen you have to do all the work

Who gets jealous easily?

I think him but not in a way where he’d say anything, he’s just like 😐 but you can’t see it because. bandages. And Audrey has no competition lol so.

Who is more protective?

Also him, she gets into more stupid shit and isn’t as crazy.

Who remembers the little things?

She does :)

Who uses the cheesier pickup lines?

God neither. They’re too weird for pickup lines. If anything Audrey would list a few bad ones she overheard on the strip as a joke.

What does a first date look like for them?

They don’t go on dates lmao. What is there to do in a canyon, they’d just go to some random place where there are no other people and talk about whatever.

What do they like to do together?

Just mundane things, doing random shit while one is talking about whatever. A lot of times it’s just Audrey chatting about something funny or weird that happened to her on her travels while she puts on one of her favorite holotapes and does something, her stories are more light-hearted after all :/

Other than that… nothing too insane, they’re too weird to have proper hobbies. Her making him read his stupid mormon bible out loud so she can hear his sexy grandpa voice 😍

Do they like PDA?

No -_- maybe hand holding when no one’s looking, if anything.

What are their big spoon / little spoon arrangements?

God he’s probably gonna die if she tries to spoon.

Does one like the cuddle more than the other?

She does but it’s not really possible sometimes. Leans against him until he's like aha. okay that’s enough :/

Who hogs the blankets?

Audrey does. She never sleeps much when she’s travelling so when she finally does get a proper night’s rest it’s limbs thrown around. Taking the entire blanket for herself. Sleeping for 20 years.

Do either of them like to cook?

I can’t imagine either, she just does it out of necessity. She can’t cook though, it’s blamco mac and cheese every mf day.

If they get married, who proposes first?

Godddd realistically he would at least think about it but they don’t get married lol. The mental image of it makes me cringe too much.

What kind of wedding do they have?

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together? Does anyone object to their relationship?

NO LMAOOOOO no one wanted them to get together and pretty much everyone would object to it if they knew. She probably doesn’t tell her family but if they knew they’d be against it, for obvious reasons. She doesn’t tell her friends either except Callisto lol, who thinks it’s epic somehow. Great Khan past and all that, not that she agrees with the legion in any way but 🤷‍♀️

Do they have any kids?

Maybe they do… maybe not. Who knows, I don’t control them.

(I made up two but Idek if they exist. a son named Ben and a daughter, Rachel. they’re weird and that’s all you need to know)

Do they have any pets?

I was gonna say no but she still has Rex who she forgot to return to the King 💔

DIANA/KING

How did they first meet? What was their first impression of each other?

In the followers' camp, not long after she moved to Freeside :) iirc the King tells a story about how he went to the Followers Camp to seek help regarding Rex and ended up yelling at them and even knocking out a few doctors.. something similar, one of his guys got their ass beat and the King got impatient and asked why tf this is taking so long. And Diana told him to sit his ass down and wait, which resulted in an argument 🙄 As for the first impression. Diana thought he was just your typical annoying man, maybe sexy and in a cooler suit than the guys on the strip, but annoying nonetheless. And the King thought she was being rude and had a big mouth. But again, kind of in a sexy way.

Who felt romantic feelings first?

THE KING… pretty quickly actually. A few months after the argument they had at the old mormon fort. For Diana on the hand it took a little bit longer :/

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Hm not really, but like I said Diana didn’t really fall that fast for him. She met him shortly after she left the Gomorrah (she was a dancer, not a prostitute but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t seen and experienced some shit) so she’s not really thinking about men and pretty much ignores him flirting with her (also he stops once he finds out about her past lol). She figures she likes him because they do have the same principles and something about being good people in a shitty world and all that so there’s a lot of admiration there, also their shared love for music and stuff. Elvis things. But she’s trying to heal from the shit she witnessed at the strip so no thanks!! Until… until...

Who initiated the relationship?

Well… technically him, he was the first one to flirt with her probably but she never really paid any attention to it. The actual relationship though.. her.

Who said “I love you” first?

Diana but I think he would have said it too… she was just faster 😌

Who gets jealous easily?

Both do. She’s sexy so nasty old men will flirt with her while she’s doing her job but the King doesn’t have to know that because he would be MAD. Diana on the hand will act like she’s mad at him when random people are being a little too friendly with him -_-

Who is more protective?

HE IS… that one text post about saying “that’s my wife” and punching someone. Yeah.

Who remembers the little things?

He does :) Little things she likes, her favorite song or stupid little things she finds funny… sigh

Who uses the cheesier pickup lines?

THE KING but unironically. Some Elvis shit, telling her she got him “all shook up” or something and she’s into it!!!

What does a first date look like for them?

He wouldn’t say this counts (she would) but technically that one time she was doing some random music thing with her freeside kids for fun and he showed up to talk to her and Diana was like. Hey wait, why don’t you stay and sing something for these kids :-) it was stupid but fun I guess and they hung out after, her saying how impressed she was because her kids were having a good time and so was she :)

What do they like to do together?

Like on the (unofficial) first date, doing random performances together. I guess he can sing (I think?? all Elvis impersonators can sing in my mind) and she’s a dancer so.. fun!! Other than that, watching random Kings member #58 perform on their little stage, going to ugly Freeside Casinos and leaving immediately after they lose 3 caps, just fun things!! Also he likes to listen to her talking about random stuff she read in her magazines.

Do they like PDA?

Fuck yeah… Diana constantly having her legs in his lap whenever possible, him having his arm around her shoulders or on her waist all the time. Physical contact but in a cool way.

What are their big spoon / little spoon arrangements?

They wouldn’t spoon I think but she’d sleep on his arm :) wakes up and it’s numb but that’s okay

Does one like the cuddle more than the other?

Like I said. constant physical contact (but in a cool way) but actual cuddling WOULD be a thing in private.

Who hogs the blankets?

Diana -_-

Do either of them like to cook?

l can’t imagine him being able to cook but she can. Yes I do the cooking yes I do the cleaning.

If they get married, who proposes first?

There’s no real proposal probably, It would just come up in a conversation and they’d decide to have one of these quick Las Vegas weddings.

What kind of wedding do they have?

Again. One of these quick Las Vegas weddings… people get married by the King but who marries HIM 😔 (probably one of the other kings). It’s not much but it fits them, I don’t think huge wasteland weddings are much of a thing anyway (or weddings in general) sooo...

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together? Does anyone object to their relationship?

No one objected, except maybe annoying ass Pacer for literally no reason and some random followers :/ As for Pippa and Isabel (Diana’s besties), they didn’t meet before she started dating the king so they obviously weren’t rooting for them to get together but they wouldn’t object to it either, I think. Isabel certainly doesn’t, she likes the King and thinks they fit. Idk what Pippa thinks she’s not my oc, but I don’t think she’d object to it either.

Do they have any kids?

NO lmao. No biological ones at least, Diana has her Freeside orphans though that she takes care of (kinda), they’re basically her kids. She even refers to them as such :-)

Do they have any pets?

Heh… Rex :-)

GEORGIE/C*RVO

How did they first meet? What was their first impression of each other?

In the distillery district 😳 On the first mission, Georgie prob caught him sneaking around her clinic (by accident) and was like. WTF get out with your creepy mask… wait ACTUALLY since you’re good at sneaking can you get me [random thing for her medical research that she has tried to get her hands on for ages] and i can give you a discount on health potions and free leeches 😏 NPC behavior…

Georgie thought the mask looked fucked up and he seemed mysterious but well. She meets strange people every day so 🤷‍♀️ Also she thinks it’s kind of sexy. He thought she was a bit strange, but ig he liked her. She’s funny.

Who felt romantic feelings first?

GEORGIE. relatively quickly actually, she really likes him early on but she doesn’t really say anything with Jess’ death being so recent :/ He does… later on, about two or three years after dh1, probably when she’s on official business in dunwall tower (YES underqualified royal physician Georgie is a thing now 💕) and she remarks a random cut he has on his cheek & turns his face to get a closer look and he’s like 😳😳😳😳 why do I like that she just did that. Love Wins.

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Her kind of, again with the whole Jessamine thing because it was so recent and she’s like aaagh i'm not gonna hit on a guy in mourning so she tries to ignore it 😐

Who initiated the relationship?

GOD technically Georgie, she didn’t say anything of course because she’s too weird but she does kiss him first... and makes him leave right after :/

Who said “I love you” first?

He does… Georgie would NEVER say it first and doesn’t say it right back immediately but. He knows she’s weird about things so it’s okay.

Who gets jealous easily?

Her. That is a thing.

Who is more protective?

Both :-)

Who remembers the little things?

Also both but mostly him. Remembering the weird little things she offhandedly mentioned she likes. Or her little plague research things.

Who uses the cheesier pickup lines?

Both but they’d just whisper them to each other for funsies when they’re somewhere. In public.

What does a first date look like for them?

They wouldn’t have a proper official first date but it’d likely be some random event they’d both be at when she’s the royal physician (I don’t think she’d get invited to anything but well. Maybe the Boyles run out of crazy things to do at their parties and invite her) Or taking a walk at Dunwall’s somewhat nicer-looking docks. Something boring.

What do they like to do together?

Also boring things. They’re old, nothing too crazy. Chatting about random stuff whenever she’s over at Dunwall tower, taking walks in the gardens together and watching ships or something, talking shit about aristocrats that they find annoying or just about weird hobbies, maybe she can bring him along to meet her friends (who he already knows) to look at rats in alleyways but he eats them idk. Summons a whole swarm of rats but they end up trying to kill them

Do they like PDA?

NO. I don’t think she’d be too much into the whole ~aristocrat life~ after becoming the royal physician and just does business-related things but neither would want people talking about this. Semi-secret relationship for no reason and they’re both more private sooo

What are their big spoon / little spoon arrangements?

She’s the little spoon.. likes being held :)

Who hogs the blankets?

He does -_-

Do either of them like to cook?

No lol

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together? Does anyone object to their relationship?

I think the only person really knowing of this is Marzanna (AGAIN. by dany… Georgie is also besties with Slackjaw… the Rat Smackers. but she wouldn’t tell him about this lol), who would probably not object to it?? but I don’t think anyone else would be rooting for them. I guess Emily likes her as her cool doctor but NO WAY that’s gonna be her stepmom :/

Do they have any kids?

No :/

Do they have any pets?

Georgie has a cat. Not together though, Pluto is hers.

#hee hee

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lukneetoonz · 4 years

Text

Ghost of You Part II

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Summary: You were the greatest thing in Katsuki’s life…. now you’re gone.

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Warnings: Cussing, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, angst, violence, and just very sad.

Word Count: 2,518

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry it took so long for this, tbh didn’t mean for another cliffhanger but it was too good! Thank you anon for the inspiration for this one. Def will have a part three and I’m hoping that will be the end.

NO ARTWORK POSTED IS MY OWN AND IS FOUND ON PINTEREST

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Running. That’s all you remember doing and that’s all you were doing currently. Panting, you focused on the world in front of you as tears poured down your cheeks. Out of all places he could be, Bakugou Katsuki was where you went so you could forget about him. Not to mention he was looking like you were the one who broke his heart, not the other way around. You wanted forever, he wanted a fling. He took your heart and tossed it in the trash, yet the first thing you wanted to do was hug him and tell him everything was gonna be okay.

“Y/N!! Please!” Katsuki’s raspy voice called out and you could hear his footsteps get closer to you, making you only run faster as you tried to make as much distance between the two of you that you could, if you got near him you knew you wouldn’t have much self control… no matter how much hurt he caused. Even if he stomped on your heart, he still had it. He still had your love, and that’s why you were still in pain.

“Princess! Please! Give me just 5 minutes! That’s all I need to explain!” Explain? That one word made you stop as you went tense and turned around, body shaking as you stared the blonde down. “Explain? How could you possibly ‘explain’ anything? It’s what it is K- Bakugou!” The fact that you weren’t even saying his name hurt, it was like a knife driven through his heart as he finally slowed down to be in front of you, only to have you back away like he had a disease.

“That’s not- please… I fucked up okay? But I love you! Only you! It was a mistake, and- without you I’m nothing.” His voice was weak as he gulped, clenching his fist and looking at you, trying to see how you reacted but couldn’t tell. Your own body shook with heartbreaking sobs as you looked away, lip trembling. “Love me… that word means something! You can’t throw it around when you want because you’re a douchebag! If you love someone, you wouldn’t have cheated on me, with camie out of all people!!”

Your words made him flinch as you cried out, each word hitting at a different level. Katsuki bowed his head in shame, suddenly feeling very aware of where you both were and the circumstances of you meeting again were. Groaning, he looked up at you with pain filled eyes as he tried to reach out to you, but you were quick to rip away from his touch, the touch that used to bring you comfort. “Y/N… please. Please” Dropping to his knees, the man that was supposed to be one of the strongest hero’s latched onto your bottom half like a child clinging to his mother.

His tears soaked through the fabric on your stomach, the whimpers leaving his mouth made you cry harder. “Please give me another chance. I know I don’t deserve you, but please- fuck… I- I can’t live without you. It hurts to even breathe without you.” Every word he said was the truth as he pleaded to you in the middle of a sidewalk in the night, the only thing illuminating you was the street lights. As you clasped your hand over your mouth, you gasped for air. “I-I can’t… it hurt so much… you hurt me so much.” Your broken words made Bakugou tense as he sucked in breath, nuzzling his head into your stomach more.

“Please… please. I love you so much… please. I’ll do anything Y/N. Anything at all. Please just take me back.” As much as you wanted to, as much as his words cut you to the core, you pried his arms off you and backed away. Shaking your head, you whimpered and took in his state, this could be the last time you ever saw him. Just the thought killed you, turning away you walked off and didn’t stop until you reached your place, without anyone to go home to, it felt so empty. As soon as you entered the door you fell down to your knees and completely broke down, tears not stopping until you fell asleep.

*•*

2 weeks. 14 days. Yet, you still couldn’t get the image of the love of your life and your best friend getting down and dirty, out of your head. How could either of them do that to you? Bakugou was supposed to be your forever, Camie knew how much you loved him and yet she still wrapped herself around him like she was the one who had been with him for so long. If you knew she liked him, you would never have dated him! You would have stepped away and let her have him, saved your heart this pain. Why did she wait to do this to you? You couldn’t remember even doing something bad to her so she’d want to get revenge.

“Y/N! Let’s go apartment hunting today okay? You deserve to go out and get fresh air…” Uraraka came and rubbed your back as you sniffled, you turned to face her and your lip trembled. “Why did they do it? I thought he loved me..” Uraraka frowned sadly, pulling you into a hug. “I don’t know… you don’t deserve this pain Y/N… I think apartment hunting can help take your mind off of this, and then we can go out to eat.” You nodded and got up, hugging Uraraka back before getting changed. Looking into the mirror, you saw how puffy your eyes were, cheeks and nose red. Shivering, you frowned at your appearance and groaned, “Let’s go before I regret going out”

Uraraka nodded and quickly pulled you out, and you guys started walking to the apartments you saw for rent. The weather was beautiful, the sun shining down on you as the breeze was gentle. It was like a reminder that there are still beautiful things out in the world, and you started to believe it. After the third apartment, you and Uraraka decided to go get some food since your stomachs begged for it. Walking down the golden lot sidewalk, you laughed at Uraraka dancing weirdly before a hand was placed on your shoulder timidly, making you turn around.

“Y/N… can we please talk?” Emotions crashed through you as you stared at Camie, she looked just as bad as you. Her eyes met the ground as she started to cry again, hands playing with each other as she sniffled, “I know I don’t deserve it, and I don’t have an excuse or explanation, but I just- please can we talk?” It was something about how she said she didn’t have an excuse or explanation, that’s what caught your attention. Nodding silently, you gave Uraraka a reassuring look before leading Camie to a bench and sitting down.

“Go ahead Camie… talk.” Quickly she nodded and sat by you, but not too close as she gulped, “I’m a bitch okay? I don’t deserve your friendship and- I just… l was alone, and it didn’t help that I liked him when we were younger… I know I never told you, but I fell head over heels for him- so one night at the office, we were working late and I don’t even know who thought of the idea to open up some alcohol and then, I came onto him-” you interrupted her rambling as you stared ahead blankly, “How long?”

The simple question sent shivers down the girls spine as she looked away, even parler than before, “2 months…” Did it hurt more knowing? Or less? You couldn’t tell, but all you knew was the tears were building up and you could barely do anything to stop them. “For 2 months You fucked my boyfriend and pretended that everything was okay? You listened to me say how I thought he was pulling away, you listened to my relationship troubles. Yet you still spread your legs for him like the whore you are!” By the time you ended, you stood up screaming.

Red in the face, with hot, angry tears running down your face you stared at the ashamed girl. “Was It worth it Camie? Getting dick, but you ruin a relationship and your own damn friendship?! Was it worth destroying me?!” Your voice strained in frustration as she cried and shook her head, “No! Y/N! I was stupid! And selfish! I wasn’t thinking and- god I thought If it kept going it would've been better than a meaningless one night stand-” once again you had fury in your eyes “DID YOU FALL FOR HIM AGAIN?”

Camie looked away embarrassed as she clenched her jaw, “I- I want to say no… I want to say I didn't so badly… but I can’t.” You nodded and looked away, wiping your eyes, at least appreciating her honesty. “Did he- return the feelings?” Automatically her eyes widened in horror and she shook her head, “No! God no… I- it was always me texting and calling first… the day you- well you know, I saw an engagement ring in his desk drawer, that’s why I was in there.” It’s like your heart stopped working altogether as you tried gathering your breath, eyeing the girl down.

“Y-you tried stopping it?” Camie nodded with a sigh as she rubbed her face, “I’m sorry Y/N…. I really am.” Sniffling you started walking back to Uraraka, “Yeah… I am too. But hey, you got what you wanted right? He’s all yours”

*•*

You didn’t think seeing Katsuki would hurt so much, it’s like breaking up all over again. Of course it didn’t help that he tried contacting you through your mutual friends, but that only resulted in multiple people being threatened with a block. When you moved into your new apartment, you gathered everyone and made it very clear that Katsuki and Camie should never know where you live, no matter what. You weren’t going to chance one of them showing up at your apartment one day to try and say one of their half assed apologies… not again.

You transferred jobs, banks, everything. You practically started a new life, because the scar of your past one was too big. The news that was filled with the pictures of the beautiful ash blonde made you believe he had moved on, made you think he was okay. But you were wrong, and oh how you wish you didn’t assume things so silly. Katsuki was fighting crime like he was born to do, and from the news he was doing better than he has ever before.

But oh how little did you know. Katsuki was only working so hard because he wanted to get you out of his head, maybe if he worked hard enough you’ll even see he’s changed. That he’s better. Sadly for him he couldn’t get you out of his head, but luckily he’s only had to deal with easy villains so nothing he’s had to do than blink an eye. Until today. Katsuki had barely gotten any sleep since he last saw you, but he still worked, hell he worked double the amount of hours even if his body was screaming for rest. It took such a toll on him, even his friends started to notice.

“Bakugou… are you sure you should be working? You look like- well you look like shit bro.” Kirishima scratched the back of his neck only to sigh when he saw the glare directed at him, “It’s not your problem shitty hair. So what if I’m taking extra hours? I just want to group up my vacation days together.” Katsuki grunted out a lie that not even Kirishima believed, but the redhead knew he had to go along with it so he nodded. “Okay… but I'm here for you, that’s what friends are for.”

Katsuki couldn’t even reply before there was a loud explosion and screaming that followed, the heroes running onto the scene. Kirishima paled before activating his quirk when he noticed this was your new place of work. A group of villains spread out, two had taken hostages inside the building that was in flames, one of the villains seemed to have a quirk where his tattoos came to life, another looked like a feral child, one seemed to be breathing green like poison that was covering the streets and making civilians pass out, one of the ones in the building could make anything out of any non living object he wanted, like it was Plato so he had weapons, and the female had a the mutation quirk to make her look somewhat of a spider.

Fuck fuck fuck, they were outnumbered and these quirks- they were pretty fucking good. Katsuki snarled and started fighting, trying to keep them busy as they waited for backup. Kirishima fought alongside Katsuki, knowing you were here but he didn’t know what to say, how could he say something!? If he did, surely his best friend would do something stupid and reckless… that’s the last thing he wanted, because if Katsuki got hurt then you’d probably get hurt too.

Inside you stayed calm as the female crawled around you and your colleagues, her sadistic smile stayed as she wrapped another person In her webbing, “Awh c'mon my little babies, don’t be sad! I’ll be nice if you tell me where the hard drive is. The heroes trust you, so we know you have their personal information, if you give us their hard drive, then it will be fine.” You tensed at their words before standing up with shaky legs, “I can do you one better- I’m the girlfriend Of ground zero. A-and I’m best friends with all of his friends like red riot, pinky, uravity, chargebolt, you name it… but If you take me then you’ll get the heroes.”

Your words made the girl look at the man almost like they were sharing thoughts, before the girl smirked and in seconds she was by your side, biting your shoulder and you could feel poison being released into your shoulder. Crying out in pain, you fell to your knees as they mumbled something you couldn’t quite hear as you fell to the ground, whimpering at the pain in your shoulder that spread through your entire body. The last thing you remember before your world faded into total darkness was your name being called and a familiar silhouette running towards you.

*****************************************************

Taglist; @katsukiswhore @leeeah-loooser @do-not-talk-to-me-i-am-awkward @desia2 @katsukiwonu

#mha fanfiction #mha imagines #katsuki imagine #bakugou katsuki #bnha katsuki x reader #bakugouimaginedarlingely #shonan bakusozoku #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #katsuki x y/n #katsuki bakugo imagine #mha katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou fluff #bakugou icons

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demivampirew · 4 years

Text

"You're not getting rid of me that easily"

August Walker x Reader

Triggers: Smut; self-pleasuring- s&m; drinkin; stalking.

Disclaimer: I’m not a huge fan of MI, so my knowledge is pretty limited so I tried my best 😁. Btw, when I said that I’m getting everytime more and more comfortable writing smut is no joke. 😂 🤣 I guess practice makes perfect (?).

I think I might do a second part, but I’ll see.

August ordered a beer. He was tired and frustrated. He'd come up with different ideas of how to free Lane, but the asshole was acting like a stubborn child and wanted to blame Hunt for everything. He had better things to do that being caught in a revenge fantasy, but like it or not, he needed Lane to be free. Three beers later, he started to feel the effects of alcohol starting to work. It's been a really long time since he allowed himself to consume drinks that might lower his senses. He knew too much, he needed to be always at the top of his game. He wouldn't risk a drunk mistake ruin his cover. He planned to finish the last beer and leave to the place in London in which he was hiding with the IMF team to carry the plan that will doom Ethan Hunt and his mates. At least that was the plan until he saw you. Gorgeous, wearing a black tight cocktail dress. Beautiful hair, stunning smile. You were chatting with two friends, enjoying a sweet drink when unintentionally looked at the man, sitting next to the bar, staring at you. He was had dark hair, piercing blue eyes, a moustache and even though he was sitting, you could tell he was tall. He was ripped but didn't dress to presume that. His clothing was rather formal than anything. Maybe he's a bodyguard or something like that, you thought. There was something dangerous about him. You only needed one peek into his eyes to know that he was bad news. Getting laid wasn't exactly in August's plans, but he needed to release some tension and he everything going on, he hadn't had the time to be with a woman in a minute. So "what the hell," he thought, he wouldn't miss his chance with you. He ordered three drinks like the one that you were drinking and made the waitress delivered to you and your friends. Your friends were quite excited by the attention of this guy and waved to him with big smiles on their faces. You, on the other hand, slightly nodded in his direction to thank him for the drink and continued talking to your friends ignoring him completely. He tensed his jaw in a sign of frustration but didn't give up. He stood up, picked up his trenchcoat and walk towards you. Your friend noticed him and said "he's coming" and began to push up her bra to make her breasts seem bigger. You saw him approach you and rolled your eyes annoyed. - Hello ladies.- he greeted like a true gentleman would do. - Hi! Thank you for the drinks.-said your friends on a unison. They sounded like valley girls. You limited yourself to raise your drink and give him a slight smirk in a way to thank him for the drink. - Instead of thanking me why don't you share your beautiful names with me?- he asked smiling. He looked like a friendly devil. - My name is Angela.- said your friend next to you, then she pointed to your other friend- She's Victoria and she's ...- continued and she pointed at you a was about to reveal your name when you interrupted her-. -Lara. My name is Lara.- you told him convincingly. Your friend looked at you confused and August realized by the awkward look you and your friend gave each other that it's not a real name the one you gave him. But that was okay with him, he didn't need to know who you were, he was planning to spend the night with you a never cross paths again. - Pretty name. - August reply. -Thanks. - Do you want another drink? I could order it for you? -he asked and you weren't sure if he was referring to all of you or just yourself because he had his eyes fixed on you. - What we want it's for you to leave. - you answered firmly. -Y/...Lara!- she was about to reveal your true name but then corrected herself with the fake name you provided before- That's not polite! - What it's not polite is to buy drinks to women to try to get them into your bed. Sorry, Mr Moustache, this is a girls night out, not men allow. I'm pretty sure you'll understand. So thank you for the previous drink and the offering, but no, thanks.- you told him with a defiant look to let him know you weren't someone he would like to mess with. He pressed his lips in a sign of disappointment and left the bar. After he left, you had to listen to your friend lecture you on how to be a polite person and later it was your turn to reprimand them for being way too friendly with a complete stranger. After the exchange of words, you were laughing again. An hour later, you left the place. Now, you were wearing a fancy black coat and a nice silk scarf to cover your neck. You were walking in the empty streets in London. August followed you, with a reasonable distance so you wouldn't notice him but not too far away that he might miss you. He followed you a couple of streets and then he turned around the corner, following your path, but you were out of his sight. "Fuck," he said. He stood right there trying to see what direction might have you taken when he sensed something and turned around just in time to grab your arm and make you throw away the pepper spray that you had in your hand. Then he caught your other arm before you hit him with your purse. - I'm not going to hurt you.- he told you annoyed - You're stalking me! - you screamed. - Yes, but I not going to do anything against your will or hurt you, so stop screaming like a maniac before someone call the police.-he ordered you. Calling the police would be the better thing to do, you knew that, but something in you decided to obey him.- I'm going to set you free, but you have to promise me not to run o scream again, ok?- you didn't speak, just nodded and he freed your hands. He took off his CIA identification and showed to you.- Do you see? I work for the CIA. I'm a good guy, there's nothing to be afraid. - Just because you're a cop doesn't mean that you're good. - I'm not a cop. I'm a CIA agent. - Potato, potahto. - you said like if you couldn't care less. - Why are you following me? - Because I'm having an awful time.- he said with anger- I'm having a fucking hard time and I saw you and I thought that maybe being with you could make things a little better but you're making things even more complicated. Now, I would not be able to concentrate on the important job that I have to do because I'll be thinking that you fucking rejected me. - I'm sorry, I'm just not interested. - I think you are.- he replied - You're not my type. - Are you sure?- he questioned as he pulled you against the wall and touched your lips with his thumb, putting his face so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath. - You said you weren't going to do anything against my will.-you remembered him. - Tell me that you don't want this? - he defied you. - I don't- you told him and he bent his head and screamed "fuck" so hard that scared you, but he set you free. He started to walk away, leaving you there. -August! Wait! - you called him and he turned and made his way back to you. You took your scarf and handed to him. - What's this for?- He asked you -To cover your eyes. I'm not letting you know where I live.- He was ok with that. You two stood there as you waited for a car to pick you up. Soon enough, a Rolls Royce Phantom VIII showed up and you helped August sit on the back and then you took a place by his side. The car began the travel to your place. - Who's driven the car? - August asked.- Are we in a taxi? - No. My driver is driving the car. Now, shut up and stop asking questions. You reached your place and you took him to your bedroom upstairs. It was a big house, so there were a lot of stairs. Of course, he asked you about that but you decided to ignore him. Once on your room, you took a chair and made him sit on it. He was about to take off the scarf but you stopped him and grabbed both of his arms and cuffed both of his hands on his back. Something in you knew that you were lucky that he wasn't expecting that and that he probably liked you too much to hurt you, otherwise you probably would be seriously hurt by now by even trying that. You told him to relax, that everything was okay. You let him know that you'd be back in a minute and left him alone in there. When you came back, you were wearing a tight latex black strapless dress and long high hills boots. You unbuttoned his shirt and then took off the scarf that was covering his eyes. He scanned the room. Was big as a regular size house, with a king-size bed covered with nice curtains. The place looked like a palace. - So you're rich.- August said amused. - Very. - You replied. He saw you and what you were wearing and noticed that in your had you had a leather paddle whip. You came closer and started to give him slight touches with it on his chest, arms and legs. On one occasion, you hit him hard with it and he protested but you just grinned and continue. After having your fun with the whip, you toss it out and sat on his lap facing him and started to scratch his chest with your nails. First softly and then pressing your nails harder and harder on his chest, leaving red marks. You bit his lower lip, hard enough that you could taste blood. He was desperate to set himself free, but he was enjoying it. You could feel his erection growing. You stood up, open a drawer in your closet and grabbed a box. You sat on the edge of the bed, facing August, who was sitting right in front of you and forced him to watch you lick and suck a rubber cock that you had for self-pleasuring. After that, you put a vibrator inside of you and moan louder and louder as you reach climax. After you reached your orgasm you touch yourself and walk towards August. You put your wet fingers on his lips and he sucked them, looking at you full of desire and anger for not let him be a part of the action. - That's all you get, Mr Walker. Did you really think that you could just fuck me to release tension and leave? I'm not that kind of woman. Now, you got the change to get a taste of me, now I guess its time for you to leave. Bye, August. - you said and he felt a slight puncture and soon enough he was asleep. August woke up in a hotel room. The receptionist said that someone paid cash for him to stay in that room and explain that he was asleep because he was drunk, but did not give his name. "His name," August thought. "Maybe she made the driver take me here" he reasoned. Great! That's exactly what he needed. With everything going on, now he had that fucking woman on his head and he wanted to know who the hell she was. But he'll have to deal with that later because he had to hurry to meet with the IMF so they could carry on with the plans.

#henry cavill #august walker #august walker x reader #fanfiction #demivampirew

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