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ha-hatdog · 4 years

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all in a day's work / daisuke kambe

somebod requested a badass reader? sorry for this very late update. online classes is kicking my butt. you wanted either a scenario or a headcanon so i decided to make both. long scenario/headcanom mashup ahead.

requsted by anon: Hii!! I just want to say first of all, that I just discovered your blog and I just fell in love with it, keep going you’re amazing❤️❤️ soo can I ask for a Headcanon or scenario (it’s up to you) where Haru has a female friend who works in modern crimes prevention and is really badass (like she knows how to fight and all that stuff), so one day she helps Daisuke and Haru in a investigation in which a fight starts and Daisuke gets impressed by her abilities and develops a crush on her (????)

UNEDITED

It was another mundane morning for the the Modern Crimes department. The room was oddly colder, and the civil servants occupying the compact and simple space secluded themselves with their own businesses. Mahoro Saeki sat on the couch partaking in an unhealthy snack she had shipped from a foreign country, Kamei Shinnosuke was browsing through the internet and more than once using to his advantage the global connection that comes with his access to the computer in order to satisfy his habits and indecent hobbies, Yumoto Teppei tuning in to the occuring horse race in an international channel in his device, Nakamoto Chosuke merrily bading his time reading through documents of recent illegal activities assigned to his care, Kiyomizu Yukihiro fiddling with yet another craft he made out of wood and glue, Kato Haru awaiting the telephone to sound off and have another indiviual summon him for a petty crime, and Kambe Daisuke seated far from the othere, legs crossed and chin resting on his knuckles as he appraised the tranquil area.

Haru slammed his hands on his desk and threw his head, moaning in disdain. "Why isn't the phone ringing?" Whined he as his posture was regained after a moment or so. His eyes, lit with pure frustration and impatience, glared at the telephone, as though threatening without verbalizing his objective would somehow make it ring. "Come on, ring, you stupid phone. How come you always ring whenever I don't want you to and don't when I do?"

"It's a slow day." Remarked Kamei, not takint his eyes off his computer as he regarded his colleague. "Try to enjoy it. You can have all your action some other day."

Haru leaned against his chair, back sliding against the backrest and the back of his neck hitting the edge of his leverage. "Not everyone has weird hobby to keep themselves entertained." Countered Haru, and a pout formed on the blond male's lips at the comment. "This job is what keeps me from going insane."

The offended male turned his swivel chair to face Haru, face scrunched with the same attribute he exuded, "Oi, don't say it like that. It's bad if you describe it like that."

"It's weird without even having to add the adjective." Saeki chimed in between her chewing, humming as the flavor of the chip formerly cinched in the possession of her fingers travelled to her taste buds.

Kamei whipped around to her position, shoulders tensr with the taste of truth and reality, both of which ignored in favor of living in bliss. "It's nor weird. It's perfectly normal for men to be looking at those . . . sort of inappropriate . . . videos." His words trailed off as he came to realization that his own defense betrayed him.

"I agree, but not at work." Haru simply retorted. "Would you want to see me cooking a whole feast inside the precint?"

Kamei looked up in ponder, mouth curling as his thought process stuttered before he presented his inquiry, "Do we get to taste the food you made though?"

Haru stared at the blond man with an impervious mask decorating his appearance, unimpressed with how the man broached the metaphorical event served to him. "Never mind." Shaking his head with amicable dismay, Haru turned his seat to a half circle, arms taking space upon the the armrests. His line of sight crossed over the facile yet minimalistic design of their room, the dull colors of the walls an addition to his disinterest until it landed on a brooding and well vested man.

The referred individual had boredom etched all over his striking features, the lack of events occuring in the Modern Crimes he could invest his time in had him in a bad mood although showcasing it to his colleagues was not his cup of tea. He and Haru were different, and how they handle themselves in this patience consuming day was one of them.

"I'm surprised you're still here." Haru conveyed with a vestige of astonishment. Truly the older man had no such ability that could understand the complexity of his wealthy counteepart. Most days, whenever days were a little too slow for his liking, he would up and retreat back to his home (mansion seems more of an appropriate term to refer to his household) but lately, he had been spending more time in the precinct, and Haru did not know how he should react to this development, or devolvement. His comment floated in the density formulating inside the office, and everybody present swiveled their heads to await his response. "I thought you'd be back in your house now. No cases today, it seems. No games to entertain yourself with today."

"Tell me something I have yet to know, Inspector Kato." Retorted Daisuke, and a tick mark grew on Haru's forehead, but his displeasure to his rude counter was ignored as Daisuke brought his fingers to his ear. He spoke, enough for others to hear his statements. "HEUSC, locate the nearest and most recent crimes occuring within the area."

Haru rose from his seat, alarmed. "Oi, what do you think you're doing?"

Daisuke did not respond to Haru and awaited his butler's relay of information. It did not take more than a few seconds until it has accumulated enough information to submit to his master. "A few streets away, a murder of two took place in a bar called Denyr. Investigation is in process currently."

Daisuke removed his hand from his earpiece and looked towards a flabbergasted. "You heard HEUSC. Let's get going." Daisuke stood up from the couch, dusting himself off before making his way towards the door.

"Wait a minute," Clamored Haru, and Daisuke looked over his shoulder to gaze at him. Haru gritted his teeth, irritated. "You can't just up and go and do whatever you want! This is not your call! We weren't called so we'll just disturb everyone else who's already there."

"Aren't cops allowed to interfere in crimes or disturbance in peace whenever they want? It's their job." Said Daisuke. "And besides, you're just as eager as I am to do something other than waste the entire day waiting for the phone to ring." Then he frowned. "Unless, I'm mistaken, of course. I have no qualms leaving you here. I'm sure you'll be useful for warming up your chair for tomorrow."

Haru growled at him. "You stupid . . . " He grunted and took his jacket off his chair. "Fine! I'll go with you, just to keep you in check!"

“Wait a minute,” Exclaimed Saeki, causing Haru and Daisuke to turn just as the latter had began turning the doorknob. The pink haired female abandoned her seat in favor of giving them a standing and patronizing narrowed glower. “Haru, aren’t you forgetting something today?”

Haru looked up in thought, trying to recall what Saeki was implying. Nothing significant manifested in his line of thought and he turned to his colleague with a frown conjuring in his mien. “Uh, I don’t think I’m forgetting anything.” Answered Haru.

Daisuke grunted, displeased by the interrupting. “Then let’s get going.”

Daisuke pushed the door open and stepped outside. Haru was following suit, shrugging his jacket on when Saeki called out for them once more, particularly the older officer. She had her arms crossed, an unamused pout forming on her brims. “Haru, don’t be stupid!” Clamored she. “I can’t believe you forgot what today is!”

Haru let out an exasperated sigh. “I honestly can’t remember what makes today so important.” Said he. “What is it?”

Kamei rolled his swivel chair back, making sure to reveal himself from any obstructions blocking his form. “Eh? You of all people forgot (Your Name) is coming back?” He conveyed and whistled right after. “That’s surprising, and disappointing. I’m sure she won’t be thrilled knowing you’ll be the last one welcoming her back after her hospitalization – her best friend, her partner in crime.”

Haru’s face fell upon acquiring the information relayed to him. His mind refreshed, finally remembering the time when you took your time from resting in the hospital just to tell him you were soon to be discharged after the outcome of you recklessly electing to throw yourself in front of him when the perpetrator pulled the trigger and shot a bullet his way. You were fortunate enough to have the cylindrical metal projectile imbedded nowhere near any of your vital veins, but due to your blood loss as well as the stacking strain and stress in your body forced you to be admitted in the care of the hospital. Haru was sure you were not supposed to move when you selected to take your phone and call him because he can hear the nurse in the other line scolding you, telling you to end the connection and to rest easy for the remaining week. He could only miss you more – he knew how much you hated doing anything but police work. Haru couldn’t believe he forgot about that since he distinctly remember hardly being able to be consumed by sleep when excitement for your return filled him.

“Shit, it’s today.” Cursed Haru as his shoulders dropped. He slapped his palm against his forehead, groaning. “My God – how can I forget? I’m the worst partner ever.”

Daisuke glanced at Haru, bemused. This was the first time he had heard over this (Your Name) woman. To him, Haru was always a lone wolf who preferred to be alone in his work unless he was required to have a companion with him. Or maybe because it was loyalty to his said partner kept him from going to missions with another. Daisuke looked back at Saeki and Kamei, “Who’s (Your Name)?”

Haru wanted nothing more than to hide your existence from Daisuke. You already had so much in your plate and having a rich bastard interpolating with it was more than you can handle, especially after being hospitalized for quite a while. But it was inevitable for the two of you to meet seeing as Daisuke seemed to be taking a strong liking with playing cop and were in the same department as him. So resigning with the concept of keeping you away from Daisuke, Haru let out a deep sigh. “(Your Name) is another cop in our department. She’s my partner.”

Daisuke blinked at him. “Someone can actually put up with you?”

Haru angrily show his fist to Daisuke, irritation swathing his figure. “What was that? I should be the one saying something that! I don’t know how Suzue-san can put up with your rich ass!”

“Maybe if you’re rich, you’ll know.” Countered Daisuke.

Before Haru could grab hold of Daisuke’s collar, the latter efficiently evaded his attempt to do so and stalked off into the corridor, adjusting his pristine suit as he ventured away. “If you want to stay here and wait for your partner, fine by me. I can go alone and handle the murders all by myself.” He said without looking back to meet Haru’s hardened gaze. “I’m sure this (Your Name) person is more important than the safety of other Japanese citizens.”

“O-Oi, I haven’t even decided yet! Don’t assume I’m not going!” As much as Haru wanted to be the first person to greet you back to work, he too loved justice and cared about the people who wanted to live in peace. Clicking his tongue out of annoyance, he turned to everyone left in the room, and all of them returned his gaze with bemused expressions. “Kambe and I will be quick. We’ll just drop by the crime scene and then cime back. I’m sure I’ll be able to return here before (Your Name) can. If not, tell her I’ll be back soon.”

***

daisuke was never inclined to pursue a romantic relationship. ever since witnessing his mother died, his life had been reserved into finding the truth. but little did he know, his perspective in love and romance will change, and hary will most certainly freak the fuck out

the two police officers arrived in the crime scene in a short amount of time. with how daisuke was speeding, it was understandable they would get there fast and very understandable how haru's whole life flashed right before his eyes. daisuke was actually tempted to go even faster but opposed to it after a while as he did not want to deal more with haru's tantrum after he recovered.

of course when they arrived there, the detectives assigned to the case shooed them off because they're not part of the investigations.

daisuke knew how to deal with them, of course. he brandished stacks of yen to include them in the case and the detectives were like 👀 because you know, who doesn't want extra cash?

haru didn't bother complaning anymore and just went to work. he wanted to get back to the station as soon as possible and welcome you first. best friend efforts, get a best friend like haru.

haru: "i scout the ground floor, you go upstairs - AND NO SPENDING MONEY YOU RICH BASTARD"

daisuke:

haru:

daisuke:

haru:

daisuke:

haru:

haru: "and - "

daisuke left before haru could finish his sentence. really daisuke just stayed and didn't answer him just so he could piss haru off. it worked nonetheless and daisuke can hear haru cursing at him as he walked upstairs

but we all know whatever daisuke does pisses haru off so so it didn't matter.

daisuke went up to the second floor if the bar and he saw how thrashed the place was

overturned tables, fallen chairs, broken bottles, reeks of alcohol, smears and pools of blood but everything seemed pleasant to look at compared to the two corpses that laid out on the floor with police tapes around them. it looked like a small massacre occured in there, and thay surely was the case

head smashed, chunks of flesh scattered, broken skulls but daisuke merely stared at them blankly

he wasn't disgusted nor disturbed. seeing his own mother's corpse was enough for him to deem gore as just another normal addition to his life

like another detective, daisuke began looking for clues. he searched the entire place like the good and professional detective he is -

who am i kidding - the first thing he did once he sees the condition of the second floor was, or course, ask HEUSC for information. screw asking them from fellow detectives when daisuke has his own ai butler

ahh perks of being a kambe

daisuke: "heusc, tell me the exact number of people that attended this bar between nine am to twelve in the afternoon"

heusc: "understood"

it did not take long until heusc responded

heusc: "the exact number of people who attended genyr is twenty seven. twelve in the ground floor, twelve in the ground floor, fifteen in the second. there are two dead bodies found in the second floor - "

daisuke snapped his head to the ceiling as soon as he heard a soft creak emit from over him

daisuke stared at the ceiling for about a moment before askint heusc - "look at the footage from the surveillance cameras surrounding the the bar. how many people fled outside?"

daisuke heard another creek above him, and this time he was sure he wasn't alone

and his unknown companion would love to have him in the same state as the corpses

and heusc replied: "twenty four"

daisuke closed his eyes, "is that so?"

heusc: "one person remains inside the building"

daisuke dropped his communication with his ai and positioned himself to a clean posture, back straight and hands tucked inside his pockets

daisuke: "you can come out now. no use hiding. i know you're here"

no response

daisuke clicked his tongue, "i heard you moving around in the ceiling the entire time i'm here and it's only been two minutes. you're not as discreet as you think you are. reveal yourself now and i'd consider lessening your time in jail."

still, silence greeted him

daisuke was growing irritated by the lack of answer given to him.

daisuke: "a coworker of mine needs to be back at the station right now for a reunion with his girlfriend - " daisuke paused as he imagined haru having a girlfriend. " - so let's keep this short and simple. surrender and as i have promised earlier, i will try to get you lesser years in prison"

but daisuke was not intending to keep this promise. even he knows giving a generous offer to criminals would weaken their resolve

but again, there was no answer

but he expected this

he always does to every case he gets handed with, or forced his hands to

daisuke observed the ceiling through a blank lense before sighing "if this is how you want things to go down, then so be it"

daisuke touched his earring and deliberately increased the volume of his voice as he spoke to heusc - "heusc, purchase the bar and its neighboring buildings and set a bomb for twenty minutes. tell the others to get out of here as soon as possible" he sneered at the ceiling. "i don't mind dying inside this bar with the suspect. it's the norm for a police officer to risk theit lives in the name of justice"

he sounded like haru for a moment there

heusc responded immediately: "understood, sir. balance: unlimited"

it was after that statement did a response come to light

the ceiling above daisuke broke as a firm kick broke through the fragile material

daisuke jumped away before a slim figure of a man dropped down from the hole

before daisuke could move, the man dashed pass him and out of the room, his oustretchrd hand barely grazing the bloodied clothes he wore

daisuke didn't waste time and recovered from his stunned state before following after the perpetrator

daisuke kept losing track of the man from time to the time and when he got down to the grounr floor, he saw no sign of him

nobody was present inside the bar anymore per order of heusc and money

all except for haru of course who immediately ran out of the place he was scouring and back to the main room

daisuke knew he heard heusc's order to leave the building but

haru will always be haru

haru, upon seeing daisuke's solemn state, asked: "what happened"

daisuke: "the man - did you see him?"

*haru, confused noises*: "what man? who?"

daisuke: "the man who killed the peple upstairs - he was still here and he ran down, didn't you hear him?"

haru: "no, i didn't - " his sentence was cut off when a figure suddenly lunged at him

lo and behold the criminal who was hiding behind an overturned couch

haru and the man tumbled down to the ground, fists and feet swinging wildly. daisuke watched as haru struggled to acquire dominance over the situation

daisuke: "heusc, identity of the killer"

heusc: "sakatoshi matona, a former bouncer for genyr until he was let go without reason"

haru strung out profanities and grunts as he and the matona rolled on the floor, trying to pin the other down. with a boost of strength, matona managed to get the upper hand and he put all his weight on haru. his hands found haru's neck and began strangling him

daisuke was like aren't you cop? win you idiot in the inside and haru was like aren't you a cop? help me you bastard in the inside. just the norm for the reckless and seemingly suicidal cops

haru: "gwet hiff op opp mii"

heusc: "transalation: get him off of me"

daisuke took action after that. he pulled matona off of haru and immediately socked him on the face

matona stumbled back but daisuke underestimated the time he would tske to recover and he tumbled back as the criminal retaliated with a punch of his own

daisuke dodged the assault but in the process, temporarily losing his posture. matona took this as an opportunity to continue his line of attacks, landing a few good hits on daisuke but majority of the time, he failed

daisuke recovered from the initial shock matona has inflicted him with and returned to momentum ane he was preparing his attack when bam - haru kato

my day be so fine then boom - haru kato

daisuke's eyes widened when haru, after standing up, tried to lock matona's arms to prevent him from moving anymore but instead, his chest met with an elbow

air was taken away from him and haru staggered backwards, clutching his chest and matona seized him

daisuke cursed and shot forward to help him but stopped when matona took haru's gun away from him and pointed it towards haru

matona: "stand back or i'll shoot"

haru raised his hands in surrender but daisuke did not

and haru was: ?????!!!!! tryna get me killed????!!!!

daisuke: "i can keep my promise, you know"

matona pointed the gun at daisuke

matona: "how can you when you're just a lowly cop?"

daisuke took out his cigar and lit up

daisuke: "yes, because a lowly cop can just buy buildings with a single command from an ai"

matona growled "rich, snobby, uncaring, and a liar. you're just the same like the people i killed"

daisuke opened his mouth to reply when a feminine voice cuts in

"finally, a confession. now we can get this over with"

before anyone could react appropriately, matona felt a hand take hold of his stolen gun and tore it away from his grasp before a heel sunk into his stomach, causing him to spit out blood

daisuke saw her, a woman standing with such grace, confidence, and strength with a gun in her hand and a smirk on her brims

daisuke couldn't move not from shock, but with admiration

who was this woman?

and what was this thudding in his chest

doki doki

his face was hot, very hot

and so was the woman

"( YOUR NAME )???"

daisuke turned and saw haru gawking at you

haru: (@[]@!!)

daisuke: （－－）

also daisuke: is that really (your name)? haru's partner? haru's girlfriend?

daisuke: hmp hmp（｀ー´）

you turned to both of them and daisuke was blown away with you that he nearly fell

he thinks you're very pretty

V E R Y

doki doki

you smiled widely at them: "haru, it's so nice to see you again" and then you turned to daisuke

daisuke froze and his cigar dropped

you glanced back at haru: "you already replaced me?"

haru: "tf no! rich boy here wanted to plays cops for a while so he went to our department. you know me, i could never replace you"

daisuke glared at haru

it waa obvious he was trying hard not to upset you (though you didn't look like the type who would get easily offended)

plus he's pushing a single and narrow minded narrative about him towards you. what if you hate him?

but you didn't and merely smiled at him, ignoring the criminal trembling from the pain of your kick

you: "my name is (your name)"

daisuke.exe has stopped working

jk that won't happen to daisuke

for now at least

daisuke: "kambe daisuke"

you, smiling: "nice to meet you, kambe daisuke!"

haru: "how did you find us here?"

you: "was gon get a drink before i head to the station but then i saw police tapes and stuff"

haru looked alarmed: "YOU WERE GOING TO DRINK RIGHT AFTER YOU GOT RELEASED FROM THE HOSPITAL"

you turned away from them, facing matona: "you can continue scolding me after we arrest this killer, haru. sorry in advance for haru, daisuke. he can be pretty overbearing and protective"

daisuke: "i can tell"

haru was offended okay?

you were already teaming up with daisuke to tease? betrayal.

haru: "how dare you (your name) - "

you did not let haru to finish his sentence and starter beating the shit out of matona like DAMN GHORL

daisuke and haru watched from a distance as you expertly used the gun to your advantage without pulling the trigger. you used the metal to hit him in fragile parts of his body in order to limit his movement

daisuke gawked at you

he has never seen such fluid execution for an arrest

daisuke looked: O-O

haru, seeing him, smugly crossed his arms and said: "you get to see how amazing (your name) is as a cop. she's my partner"

just as he said that, you pinned the criminal down on the ground, gun discarded, your one hand straining his arm behind his back and the other pinning his other hand on the ground

you: "i just got out of the hospital. how did i still win?"

daisuke suddenly frowned

oh, right. she's haru's girlfriend.

several minutes later, you successfully managed to arrest sakatoshi matona and the other detectives came to take him. but of course, you made sure you, daisuke, and haru were getting the recognition

like hell you were letting someone else get the glory for your efforts

you returned to daisuke and haru, smiling

they were talkiny when you hugged haru from behind

you: "haru i missed youuuu. it was lonely without your annoying butt looking out after me all the time"

haru flushed red

haru: "if you didn't catch the bullet for me then - "

you: "and let you get shot instead? nu uh, no way. i would take any bullet for you. right, daisuke?"

he felt speechless when you regarded him

daisuke didn't know what else to say to you so he said: "yes, i agree"

but somehow the the thought of you getting shot angered him

haru looked at daisuke, thinking: he acting kinda sus rn

you turned to haru and the two of you began catching up, smiling and laughing

you two looked comfortable so with each other. you two were carbon copies of one another, except you were ten times better, sorry haru

you two were made for each other

no wonder you're his girlfriend

you: "how's everyone in the precinct?"

haru: "still the same. everyone missed you"

daisuke: "are you two together?"

haru: 👁👄👁

you: *long ass laughing emoji*

haru turned very red, shouting: "WHERE DID YOU GET THAT IDEA"

daisuke: "you said you were partners - "

you: "i didn't know you liked me that way, haru - "

haru: "NO I DON'T KAMBE WAS JUST BEING A DUMBASS"

you tittered and turned to daisuke: "no, we're not together, kambe-san" you tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. "sorry if i scared you"

daisuke felt relief wash over him

daisuke: "i was just wondering. you and haru seemed very close so i was just making sure i wasn't misunderstanding"

daisuke froze with wide eyes when you leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek

and you whispered to him: "gotta work on being discreet when you look at me. i can practically see you chasing after me in the future with how you were looking at me. i'm flattered you find me that fascinating"

you turned to the shook haru: "i like this one, haru. we should bring him along with our cases"

you regarded them both: "anyways, i'll be heading over to the station first. i can write up the report and have man behind bars quickly. don't worry though, i'll make all three of us have the glory. i trust that you two can finish up here without me?"

the two men wanted to say something but both of them were stunned. you just kissed daisuke on the cheek and your best friend saw it. daisuke's eyes were wide and haru had his jaw dropping down

they still didn't say anything when you bid them farewell and just watched as you went to a police car with another cop where matona was and sped off

daisuke can feel his heart hammering against his chest

what was this feeling? it was so strange and . . . it's just strange, but he was not oppossed to thie feeling

in fact, he wanted more of it. as long as it came from you, it was fine

haru, however, was not

haru looked like he had seen the most horrifying thing ever

B E T R A Y E D

his best friend and this cop wannabe?

D I S G U S T H A N G

daisuke cleared his throat and turned to haru to say something but was met with a finger pointed at his face and haru looking vexed

haru: "you - "

the bar and the buildings nearby exploded beforw haru could say anything more. everyone except for daisuke was startled and sunk down on the ground

daisuke was not though. and he remained standing. not for the reason he forgot about the bomb he instructed heusc to plant but because

- you kissed him and he was self destructing

daisuke held back the smile threatening to tear through his face

haru: "w-what was t-t-th - "

daisuke: "i forgot about the bomb, sorry"

524 notes · View notes

ladyeliot · 3 years

Photo

Aftermath

Request: This is a request that @mycosmicparadise asked me for a long time ago. Sorry, sweetie.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger Female Reader

Summary: After the events in New York, the team reunites to carry out the mission to get Loki's scepter, but things go wrong and your mission changes completely, now you have to go after Ultron, but you find yourself unable to keep your powers under control.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of abuse.

Word count: 3972

A/N: Avengers Age of Ultron. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Reader's powers: She is a powerful empath, as she can sense and manipulate other people's emotions. Proficient unarmed combatant.

Hydra, Research Base, Eastern Europe.

You felt like your insides were full of hate and rage, every person you met through the thick forest, the only thing they felt when they saw you was dislike, mixed with the anger of wanting to get rid of you. Your powers worked because you kept your own emotions under control, but it was a constant struggle, as you used to feel inside you the emotions that others possessed and that made your insides filled with every negative emotion.

"Shit!" you heard Tony through the relay you had inserted in the back of your ear.

"Language!" Steve instantly rebutted him.

You held your position through the thick forest of Sokovia, Hydra's base was on top of a mountain, or rather it was the mountain itself, for around it they had built a rather impenetrable base that you wanted to access in order to get the Sceptre that you were unable to take from Loki at the time. Numerous clearly trained soldiers were trying to stop you in your tracks. Jarvis had informed you that the building was protected by an energy shield, which was against you as it was the most advanced technology you had seen in any Hydra base of operations.

"Loki's sceptre must be in there," Thor announced, as you guarded one of those soldiers under your body rendering him completely unconscious. "They couldn't have those defences without it."

You ran across the field trying to close the gap with Natasha, who was a few metres ahead of you, Clint following.

"Okay," you said staring at one of your targets and getting him to lower his gun to tackle him, "so what do we do?"

"Wait a second," Tony interjected. "No one else is going to deal with the fact that Cap just said "language?"

"I know," Steve replied, making your eyes roll at the distraction they were causing in the middle of the mission.

The graze of bullets was almost audible through your body, it seemed to go on forever, you had been going on for hours and all you could manage to do was run into more troops sent by Hydra to hold you in that quadrant of the forest. Natasha was trying to get rid of two guys who had tackled her, you turned to her and stared at one of them but just as you were about to make the mental connection something that you barely noticed made you fall to the ground.

"What the hell?" you exclaimed getting up again and looking around you hoping to find the cause of it.

"We've got an upgrade," Steve informed you.

"Wait, you don't call her 'language'?" Tony complained at the situation. "Okay, I'll tell her. Language!"

At that instant a muffled shout from Clint sounded behind you.

"Clint!" Natasha had effectively freed herself from the two henchmen and you both headed towards Clint, who had been shot from a bunker. "Clint's hurt. Can someone take care of that bunker?"

As if Natasha's words were an order, Hulk appeared out of nowhere to overwhelm the small building and the soldiers inside. You stood up and turned your full attention to your surroundings while Nat continued to perform the necessary treatment to alleviate the blow that your companion had received.

"Clint is in bad shape, he needs to be evacuated," Nat reported over the transmitter, as Thor and the Captain instantly landed next to you. "I can take Barton to the Quinjet," Thor replied and focused his gaze on Steve. "The sooner we leave the better.

"Copy that," Steve replied for both of you, but at that moment he noticed your face.

"Roger that," Steve replied for both of you, but at that moment he noticed your face. "Are you all right?"

You nodded, returning to an introspective position beside Natasha.

On the ride home, silence flooded the Quinjet more than ever, the mission had finally succeeded but it wasn't really in the air, it wasn't felt inside any of you, even though Stark had proposed a victory party.

The following days nothing had gone as planned, the analysis of the sceptre that Stark and Banner had carried out, more than an analysis it was a reconfiguration of a network of neurons that they had found, in order to create an artificial intelligence. Artificial intelligence that they used in Stark's secret 'peacekeeping' programme called Ultron, designed to allow the Iron Legion to operate independently. That brought some trouble, when at the end of the Party he showed up to personally attack you, well rather, the whole of humanity, as Ultron thinks the best way to save Earth is to eradicate humanity, he might be partly right.

"Ultron is gone," Banner's voice echoed within the four walls of the lab, "he has used the internet as an escape route."

"Ultron," you whispered to yourself, as one hand covered your face thoroughly.

"He's been all over. Files, surveillance," Natasha explained. "He knows more about us than we know about each other."

As the conversation continued to escalate, emotional energies radiated through the atmosphere, and you picked up on every one of them. Negativity, gathered together with worry, confusion and concern took over your body, you still felt a resentment from the attack you experienced three days ago in Sokovia, which managed to heighten each of the sensations. You closed your eyes as you hid your face with one hand and the other voices became ominous, frustrating your senses. Natasha was the only person who seemed to notice your situation, stopping the voices with a "guys", but just as they stopped, a small laugh from a completely distracted Tony typing on the computer made you burst.

"You think that's funny?" the hand hiding your face disappeared to give way to hard features and a raised, gruff tone of voice, Tony turned and looked at you a little quizzically, but you could see a hidden smile.

"No," he said indifferently. "It probably isn't, is it? This is terrible, it's so..." again his laughter tackled him, causing you to be completely confused and your frustration to grow. "I know. It's so terrible."

"It's just as terrible that you're taunting all of us right now with your fucking arrogance," you said approaching him.

"No," his tone unlike yours seemed pleasant and friendly, "It really is funny, just like it's funny that you don't understand why we need him," Tony closed the distance with you, positioning the two of you in the middle of the lab, his voice had completely changed it was just as gruff as yours.

"Tony, maybe this isn't the time," Bruce interjected in a melodic tone.

"So, a killer robot was what we needed?" you reproached, lifting your chin to position yourself against his height. "The shield that was supposed to free us from alien threats frees us by wiping out all of humanity, yeah, really brilliant."

"Remember I put a nuke through a wormhole?" he rebuked you, recalling for the umpteenth time that night the event in New York. "Tell me, how did you plan to win that? What was your damned solution to get rid of that damned hostile alien army that came through that wormhole in space?"

"Together," Steve interjected quickly, causing Tony to look away from you and back at Steve.

You made the air rush into your lungs offering you some relaxation, instigating your mind to let positive memories come to you. Your differences with Tony were known, your understanding of his views was limited, a fact that generated the occasional verbal conflict between the two of you, let's just say you couldn't stand each other more than you deserved.

The night was long, mostly because there was hardly any rest after planning what you were going to do to stop Ultron, which led you to South Africa.

"She should stay," Nat's whisper reached your ears. "The mission in Sokovia has left her with aftermath she has yet to overcome."

"Oh, last night was a aftermath?" Tony from the pilot's seat added to the conversation. "Nice."

"You know I'm here and I can hear you?" you asked without opening your eyes from your seat. "I'm coming down, worry about you guys that..."

"Okay, listen," Tony stood up from the command post. "I may regret saying this but I agree with her. I think you should stay here with Banner. Keep you two company. Get to know each other better. You know."

"Why don't you stay here, Tony, and get to know Banner better?" you opened your eyes and looked at Tony, but thought for a second. "Well, I'd better not, lest you get the bright idea to create Ultron's sister."

"He's an only child," Tony countered your irony.

"The roles are split," you added as a definitive point. "I'll take the girl, you take Ultron."

From a mountain fortress to a ship in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. You entered its interior, a quite feasible target, when in fact what you all feared lay within. Darkness fell over your pupils, the smell of dampness professed in every corner.

"You're with me, aftermath," reported a voice from behind a suit of armour. "Stay sharp, this guy is made by me."

The long corridors soon took you deep into the heart of the ship, they were as eager to run into you as you were to run into them, so it was only a couple of minutes before you were reunited in a vast maze of iron catwalks.

"Stark is a sickness!" exclaimed that robot called Ultron.

"Ahh, Junior," Tony posed in front of him and his two enhanced companions, "You're gonna break your old man's heart."

From that moment on things happened too fast for a clear description to be made. The corridors seemed to lengthen as you tried to keep that enhanced girl, Wanda, away from the others. She was powerful, trying to play with your mind and you with hers. It was a battle of mental endurance, if you could keep your mind blank and safe from all the negative things she was trying to make you see, you could keep going. It seemed doable, you seemed to have it under control, you had freed yourself from the transmitter that kept you in contact with the others to avoid any external distractions, but none of that was enough when a new enhancement came into play making you lose your balance completely, you felt the emptiness flooding you, as if your body was falling unchecked into the darkness.

A halo of light circled over your eyes making you recognise what was around you, you had escaped, you had fled from that ship thousands of miles in space and time. A figure that you recognised instantly was in front of you, smiling at you, raising her hand to caress your face, it was the figure of your mother, she was laughing, but with each laugh the atmosphere became darker. The main living room of your house appeared before your eyes, but it seemed totally neglected, the furniture was worn out, there was dust and mould in every corner, your mother was prostrate on the floor and a figure without a face was on top of her beating her, you heard the screams of a little girl, they were quite familiar, they were yours. That scene began to repeat itself over and over again, reliving your childhood, you fought to try to change it, but you had no control over it or over your mind at that moment, time after time the pain invaded you and although you tried to stop it, it became impossible again. You had entered a loop, you had lost track of time and space, you couldn't run away from it. Your own mind had become part of it.

Your ears only picked up your screams and those of your mother, you kept your eyes open but your vision was not able to see, you fell to your knees wherever you were in reality and you stayed there, until someone managed to locate you.

"I got her," as a faint whisper drifted into the scene you were living. "Okay. You're safe, I've got you."

As if you were again falling into the void your body rose into the air, and the darkness once again hovered over you, causing all your limbs and your brain to go into a deep, eternal sleep.

Without really knowing where you were, you could hear a faint hissing sound that came more and more strongly to your senses. Light broke through your eyelids, which were struggling against their will to open. Familiarity with the space made you realise where you were. The whistling sound was coming from the air hitting the Quinjet, for all was silent inside. You sat up slowly, the mental pain was suffocating, not only because of what you had seen and what you had been through, but because you could feel the same sensations all around you.

You sat up, covering your face with your hands and hiding it between your legs trying to pull yourself together, but at that moment you felt someone kneel down right in front of you and put a hand on the back of your neck.

"What can I do?" Tony's voice sounded cautious, but there was really little he could do in those few square metres of anguish, so you just shook your head. "Okay, look at me," you shook your head again not wanting to have direct access to any more emotions at the moment, "Look at me. Please."

Your breathing was rapid and your heart kept shrinking, causing a lump in your throat that almost prevented you from breathing. You couldn't extract everything you had inside you, nor could you find the calm you needed to let him go, you were afraid to look at him to interfere with his feelings and manipulate them by offering him yours, you were also afraid of acquiring his negative emotions and adding them to your own. But still you felt his hand go to your chin and he gently lifted it up to catch your face in his gaze.

"In a couple of hours we'll be in a shelter," his face was close, his fingers held firmly on your chin. "Do you think you'll be okay?"

A subtle nod is what you offered in reply, Tony nodded as well and took a seat right next to you after having moved closer to Barton.

"In a couple of hours we'll be in a shelter," his face was close, his fingers held firmly on your chin. "Do you think you'll be okay?"

A subtle nod is what you offered in reply, Tony nodded as well and took a seat right next to you after having moved closer to Barton. Those two hours seemed endless, you kept your hands pressed to your temple trying to forget what you had seen, but more so what you had felt. Tony, along with Barton were the only ones who had not suffered the effects of Wanda Maximoff's mind control on you on that occasion, it was evident from the physical and mental state of the other teammates.

Tony stayed by your side for the entire 120 minutes, worried and afraid that everything that had happened was his fault, and it was all coming back to you.

"Stop," you whispered trying to get Tony's attention.

"How?" he whispered and bent his face closer to yours, which was resting on your hands.

"Stop flogging yourself, I've had enough of the others," you pleaded a little rudely, unable to control yourself.

"I'm sorry," he placed his palm on your back, but an uncomfortable gesture from your shoulder caused him to remove it a second later. "I'm sorry."

A couple of hours later, the Quinjet took up position on a large greenish esplanade, the greenest thing your eyes had ever seen in your life. In the centre was a small cottage, cosy enough for anyone to see. Tony held you firmly, as it seemed that your body would fall if he let go. You went inside together, a hospitable warmth surrounded each of your limbs causing you to get some peace in you after hours.

Time seemed to have taken its toll on your senses, as you barely understood half of what was being said around you. But everything changed when two children entered, bringing joy and life to the room, it was the most comforting thing you had felt in weeks, the innocence that each of them possessed was like a breath of fresh air to you. You gently removed your arm from Tony's shoulders, murmuring "I'm feeling better," and he returned an "Okay" with a still worried look on his face. Actually Barton's idea of taking you there had been really successful for all of you, except for Thor who left, but for the rest of you it was something you'd never been able to contemplate in your lives, kind of like what it would be like to have a family.

Sunset was near and the view from that wooden porch surrounding the house was charmingly soothing.

"You look good," Tony appeared behind you with his hands in his pockets and perched next to you, leaning on the railing.

"Thank you," you said, looking back up at the grove of trees that loomed before your eyes. "And thanks for earlier."

" For what?" he asked with confusion in his voice.

"When you tried to reassure me on the Quinjet," you said without looking at him. "And... I think it was also you who took me back."

"Yep," Tony put his hand to the back of his neck and turned to you. "The truth is, that process would have been a lot more feasible if you hadn't gotten rid of the transmitter, it would have saved me a lot of time."

"I know," you ducked your face, but a small smile appeared on it.

"Do you want to talk?" Tony's voice seemed somewhat hesitant after stating the question.

"No," you shook your face, letting the last rays of sunlight fall on him. "Do you want to talk?"

"What do you feel?" he answered your question with another question, ignoring it completely. "What do you feel inside when you feel us?"

"I feel what other people are feeling," you explained, looking at him for the first time. "If I concentrate I can feel what you're feeling right now, or what Steve is feeling, or how the Hulk feels when he turns."

"How?"

That conversation you'd had on several occasions in your life, but at no point had you had it with Tony, you hadn't been close at any point, closeness you could find in Natasha or even Steve, but not in Tony, that's why that moment was peculiar, as well as comforting.

"It's easy when my emotions are in control," you turned your body towards him and leaned against the wooden railing. "I just have to look at my target and focus on how he feels, knowing that whatever is inside him I'm going to feel it too," you focused your gaze on Tony's eyes, "for instance, right now you're remorseful about what happened with Ultron, but you also feel misunderstood because no one understands your point of view, you're also melancholy about being in this place, a little envious about discovering the life that Barton has, and..." you paused slightly as you discovered one of his feelings, but you chose to ignore it, as he seemed to be really nervous about the process of analysis he was undergoing, "embarrassed because right now I'm feeling the same way you are.”

You offered him a slight smile, which he himself returned a little nervously at the exposition you had offered him, Tony was a very rigorous person when expressing himself and this had completely thrown him off.

"That..." he put one hand nervously to the back of his neck while the other was hidden in his trouser pocket. "Great, I guess it's nice to know I'm not empty. But well, we'd better keep this between us."

"Of course," for the first time you felt a little satisfied with your task just done, it was nice to see that this person could shed his pride on several occasions.

"Well, I'd better go and help Rogers chop wood," he said, standing up beside you and scratching the bridge of his nose.

" Yes, he certainly looks like he could use your help," you commented wryly as Steve had little difficulty chopping wood in one fell swoop.

"Yeah," he shoved his hands in his pockets and slipped out of the place as quickly as possible.

Within a minute you could feel him perch next to you again, leaning his body on the railing and looking at you.

"That's all you found?" he asked with a frown and gesturing nimbly with his hand, a gesture that denoted nervousness. "I mean, there was nothing else."

"What do you mean?" you frowned as he did, looking completely puzzled, since you already knew what he meant.

"Well..." he scratched the back of his neck again, "Do you usually do this to me? I mean, have you ever gone inside my head before to see how I'm feeling or have you only done it this once? Is it usual?"

"Do you really think I want to know what you keep in your head Tony?" you asked holding back a laugh at his reaction.

"Okay," he gave a long nod biting the inside of his lip. "And there was nothing else you said?"

"Do you want me to try again? Maybe I can find something else," you offered humbly, knowing what he wanted.

"No, it's... all right," his words were accompanied with a step back, putting distance between you and him. "It's all right. I'm... going to go help Cap."

"Okay," you bit your lower lip as you watched him disappear behind you again. behind you again.

You watched as Tony walked over to Steve's pile of firewood and picked up an axe to imitate his movements. You remained in your position, keeping your gaze lost in that grove of trees that made you feel so calm, but it was very easy to catch Tony's gaze watching you from his position. He knew that you had felt it, because perhaps it was one of the emotions that was strongest inside him at that moment, but evidently you didn't want to expose it out loud, and let him know that you had discovered it. Yet there it was, and it was going to take you too long to forget that feeling, because it felt too good to let it go.

Taglist Open (DM)

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 years

Text

ILLICITUS: CHAPTER 4

Prompt: Y/N is a respectful narcotics agent, she worked hard to have her work recognized in a prominently male work field. She‘s assigned to the most important case of her whole career, investigate and apprehend the biggest drug dealer of U.S.A, the only thing she didn’t count on, was for the bastard to be so damn charming.

Word count: Long-ish

Pairing: Mob!Roman Reigns x Reader

Warnings: +18, dirty talk, blackmail, cursing, conspiracy.

Tagging: @ziasaph , @marlananicole , @mindofasagittaruis , @reigns-5sos , @nicolewoo , @bayley-no-friends , @lilred91 , @auawdo , @lustyromantic

Notes: Where is this going to?...To catch up with the previous chapters just hit my Masterlist! Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) You can check out my other stories on my Masterlist and my newest story as a fixed post. Okay,now let’s get to the fun part, shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

I walk from Matt’s office to my desk in utter shock.

*What the hell is going on?* Is all I can think about. What seemed to be the opportunity of a life time (career wise) is becoming a true nightmare. One I couldn’t wait to wake up.

“Hey, kid! My office, NOW!” Jeffrey screamed

*Oh God, that’s all I needed right now*

“Yes, Jeffrey?” I reluctantly asked

He urgently closed and locked his office’s door

“Why did you locked the door?” I ask suspicious

He ignored me and motions for me to sit down. He was so nervous that it would be irrelevant to try to do anything but obey him.

“Happy?” I said bitterly

“Did you knew I was being tracked?” He whispered

“What do you mean?”

“Someone wiretapped my house!”

“Wait, wait. What? Are you serious Jeffrey?”

“Do I look like I’m joking to you, kid?” He angrily whispered

“Why would someone wiretap you?”

“How the fuck would I know? The only thing I know is that it came from the Bureau”

“How do you know that?”

“Because we are the only ones who use that type of technology. You can’t find that shit on the streets! Which makes me think why the fuck is somebody from this building minding my business?”He whispered screamed again

“Ok, first of all, you need to calm the fuck down! You’re little temper is not helping me to think at all. And you’re practically demonstrating to the person who did that, that you know about the wire. So take a deep breath, old man” I whispered and in an attempt to calm himself down, Jeffrey lit up a cigarette.

“Alright, where did you found the wiretap?”

“On the cable modem. We leave it at the leaving room”

“Ok, have you had any problems with your internet signal?”

“No. Why?”

“Sometimes in order to place a wire inside the house, they cause an external problem in the signal so you’ll call the cable company and someone from investigation will get inside the house to put the wire, pretending to be someone from the cable company” I explained and he gave me a puzzled look

“What?” I ask

“How do you-“

“They did that in New York to catch the Mob bosses. What kind of cop are you Jeffrey that doesn’t know about the biggest take down of the five biggest mob families of New York?” I tease

“I’m getting old, that’s my excuse” He laughs

“So if nobody came to fix anything, they must have came in normally then....has anyone from the Bureau came to your house recently?”

“Oh fuck. Everybody, kid”

“Everybody?”

“Yeah, two weeks ago, remember?”

“Shit, your birthday party” I dropped my head in defeat

“We have at least 30 suspects” He mumble

Something tells me whoever is doing this is trying to put me against Jeffrey so I decided to come clean with him

“Jeff, someone requested for a tracker on Roman Reigns”

“Please tell me you’re shitting me” He murmured “Who signed?”

“Apparently me”

“WHAT?” He screamed

“Shhhhh, someone will hear you!”

“What do you mean with ‘apparently you’?”

“My DEA ID number was in the requested by space”

“And how could someone get that?” He asked

“According to Matt, anyone who’s smart enough. He said is not that difficult, you just need to know where to look” I sighed

“Do you know when it was installed?”

“Yesterday, as I was there. Whoever did it wanted to make sure the timing matched perfectly....My biggest fear is for him to find out before I can remov-“ I was cut off by my phone ringing with an unfamiliar number.

“Y/L/N” Was my greeting

“Good morning, agent Y/L/N.”

*Oh fuck no!* I thought

“Good morning Mr. Reigns, how can I help you?”

“Well, I would like for you to join me for lunch, I have a subject I would like to discuss with you”

“I’m afraid I can’t, sir. I have a lot of work and-“

“Oh I’m certain your work can wait agent Y/L/N. Since you have some explaining to do”

“I beg your pardon?” I was already preparing myself for what I knew it would be inevitable

Roman laughs amused “Y/N. Did you really thought you could put a tracker on me and I wouldn’t find out? C’mon baby, I thought you were smarter than that!”

“Mr. Reigns, it’s not what you think-“

“I’m not gonna discuss this through a phone call. Be here at noon!” His voice colder than a bucket of ice

He hung up, before I could even protest it.

“What is it?” Jeffrey asked

“He found out and wants me to explain it” I faintly whispered

“Fucking great!” He grunts “Are you gonna go? Do you want me to go with you?”

“I have to go, I got no choice. And no, if I show up there with you is just gonna make things worst”

He nods “What are you going to do, kid?”

“Pray Jeff...pray like a fucking nun!”

......................................................................

“There she is! The little sneaky spy” Roman smirked at me “Please, sit” He motions to his office chair. The same one I sat the first time I was there.

“So, are you going to explain to me about this little thing?” He dropped the tracker on my lap

“Mr. Reigns, I know how this looks to you but I can guarantee, I didn’t requested this”

“You didn’t? Then how come is your internal identification number upon the request by line?”

*Of course he knows about that too*

“That’s what I’m trying to find out, sir”

“So what? You’re not trying to pull up the old trick that somebody is setting you up, right Y/N?”

“I know is hard to believe and if was in your position I would have the same disbelief as you right now, but unfortunately that is the pathetic truth”

“Do you expect me to believe that, agent Y/L/N?” He chuckled

I stare at him, responding “No, Mr. Reigns. I expect you to be reasonable, I would be naïve to think that I could do such an immature move like putting a tracker on you and expect you not to find out about it. As a matter of fact I would be straight up dumb if I thought that, that would ever work. So no I didn’t do it, somebody else did and that’s the reality, now whether you want to believe it or not it’s not my problem” I was taking a big risk talking to him like that, but it was the only thing I could do right now, bluff.

Roman places both of his hands on my thighs, leaning down until our faces are uncomfortably close.

“You play a dangerous game, Y/N. A very, very dangerous game” He licks my bottom lip “But I like that, it turns me on” Roman dragged his nose upon my neck, breathing in my scent

“You turn me on” He whispers in my ear “The things I can see myself doing to you are pure torture because that’s all what they are: imagination, and I want them to become reality. I want to see you spreading your legs for me, I want you in all fours on top of my bed, I want your pretty lips around my cock, I want my face in between your thighs, I want to fuck you in whatever pace I feel like it, I want you to take every inch of my cock, I wanna feel you stretching around me baby, moaning for me to go deeper and harder”

This man...The things he says, his voice so deep, his cologne filling up my nostrils and intoxicating me on his scent, on him.

“Roman” I whispered, but he continued

“You know there’s a chemistry between us, I know you can feel it too babygirl, so why hide it? Why suppress it, when we can put this stamina to good use, baby? I want it, you want it, it’s a simple math”

“That wouldn’t be very professional, I’m afraid” I mumbled

He leans back to look me in the eyes

“The tracker isn’t very professional as well is it?”

“I already told you it wasn’t me”

“And do you think a judge in court will care? There’s your personal DEA number in there, a number that technically only you have access to it and as far as I’m concerned that little tracker would be considered an invasion of privacy, I could sue not only you but the DEA for that. I mean, I signed an official document allowing you to search for anything you want in my professional life, not on my personal one and that tracker was installed on one of my private cars. Do you see my point, Y/N?”

“You want me to fuck you in order for you to keep your mouth shut” I angrily murmured

“Well, biologically speaking I would be the one to fuck you not the other way around” He smirked

“You’re so low, Roman” I spat

“Roman? No more formalities I see, I like that” He smiled

“Not happening” I shake my head vigorously

“What? Do you find me so repugnant that the thought of sleeping with me is that horrifying?” He asked amused

“It’s not that-“

“Oh, so you do find me attractive?” He asks pretending to be surprised

“Modesty doesn’t suits you, Mr. Reigns” I mocked

“So what is it?”

“If I do it, it’s gonna be like signing my guilty sentence. I would be screwing you to somehow make me innocent” I answered

Roman pulled me up from the chair, hugged my waist resting his hands mere inches from my ass.

“No baby, screwing me would be the equivalent to not getting fired, not having a billionaire lawsuit filled against you and not spending the rest of your life in prison” He smiled, now caressing my butt cheeks

“So babygirl, what’s gonna be?”

TO BE CONTINUED

Please let me know your thoughts on this series so far, feedbacks are always nice and appreciated 🥰❤️

#roman reigns one shot #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns #wwe x reader #wwe smut #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #illicitus series #masochist writes

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monst · 4 years

Note

Hello, can I request hcs nsfw for Shigaraki, Dabi and Hawks with a camgirl?

@Namelive💋

Shigaraki Tomura, Dabi, Takami Keigo (Hawks) x Camgirl! reader

Warnings: Voyeurism, Sexy time activities, exhibitionism, I’ve been meaning to post this for the longest. :D And ya know me (Well those of you who do XD) you're obviously gonna get a mini backstory for each hc :P (Mind you I know about the pfl and all that but I like to go with the flow of the anime as some people don’t read the manga. So if you’re a manga reader and are like wtf they ain’t in the warehouse no more shhhhhh I know) Don’t you just love how my headcanon’s turn into stories…. I promise I’m working on it :’)

Shigaraki Tomura

Shigaraki was suspicious. It befuddled him when you’d come back to the hideout with enough takeout to feed an army. All of you were wanted criminals how on earth was it that you made so much cash legally? How did he piece together that you were earning legal cash? Well it was obvious it was because the general public didn’t know your face. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t seen it till recently. When Giran first brought you along with Dabi and Toga you were strict about keeping the mask on.

Key word being ‘were’. He understood how beauty worked but no one was gonna pay you for being cute and you certainly didn’t look like a sugar baby. And if you were you definitely wouldn’t spend your free time committing crime and hanging out in a dingy warehouse. The curiosity was eating at him and he was determined to find out how you made money.

He had asked. But your lips were sealed. “It would be convenient to us all if you told us.” He was not amused when you flipped him off. There was something about Shigaraki knowing that made you feel ashamed….. He persisted. Followed you. But time and time again you managed to evade him.

That was until he caught sight of some middle-aged man looking at porn in an Internet café. He had been tailing you as he didn’t want to rely on Kurogiri for this task. Not only was it pointless but also foolish as his purple mist garnered attention. But back to the screen on the man’s laptop. ‘Who the hell watched porn like that?’ The man was stupid in Shiragaki’s opinion and his crimsion eyes were about to leave the screen when he saw it…

When he saw you… @NameLive a tacky name but it got the message across that and no one would make the connection to your villain name. As he watched, he noticed a couple of things. One being that he had never seen you showing so much skin. His eyes roamed over the exposed flesh greedily. He also noticed that you were a couple of minutes into the show your fingers pinching your nipple as your other hand slid down to your clothed cunt to rub against your clit through the fabric.

He felt his breathing pickup when you pulled them to the side showing him/everyone how wet you were. Your fingers dipped into your tight hole and when you pulled them out he felt his cock harden even more. Your fingers stretched the gooey liquid and he felt flushed when you lapped at the wet strings. He watched for loner realizing that he really wanted to hear you. But the man had headphones that muffled your voice……. Well the man was wearing headphones….

He quickly walked out with the phone trying not to draw attention to himself. He stopped before he got to the hideout… It was the first time he came anywhere else besides his room… From then on, he continued to watch your shows. You were relieved when he stopped asking questions. But you were also confused with the tone of badly conceal urgency in his voice when he’d usher you to leave for your ‘job’.

He was hooked on your shows. His beady eyes drinking in your nude form whenever you’d twist or bend to pleasure yourself. Your voice was addicting, and he found his eyes rolling back when you’d cry out in ecstasy. Cumming at the same time as you was usually his goal.

He got off on the fact that only he knew what you were doing. You were a villain by day covered head to toe in fabric and your mask usually muffled your voice and that was the most appealing factor to Shigaraki. It was a complete transformation. He had to stop himself from staring every time you returned from your live, because he knew what laid beneath the cloth.

To put the cherry on top, he was the only one in the league to know your given name. He had almost used it. In fact, Shigaraki was getting tired of watching you through a screen. He wanted to look at you without the pixels, he wanted to watch as you removed each article of clothing. To watch you melt from one persona to the other. To touch and squeeze your supple flesh.

It was almost as if the universe were with him. “Hey guys, I want to try something new. What do you guys think about public masturbation? Yup I’m experimenting with exhibitionism! Comment down below which places you think I should go visit!” You winked. Shiragaki didn’t hesitate and his fingers quickly typed down the word. There was a smirk on his face when you read it.

“Warehouse?” You mulled it over. It wasn’t impossible to find a time where everyone would be away. Besides it was a fairly large place with different rooms. You smiled thinking of all the donations you would get for it. And it wasn’t out of your comfort zone. “I think we’ll do the warehouse first.” You beamed.

Now all Shigaraki had to do was wait.

Dabi

You were sitting on a bar stool when it happened. What happened? Another drunk had recognized your face and had asked you for a quick fuck. You only scowled at him. You loved your job, getting payed to pleasure yourself was the easiest money you’ve ever made. But dickweeds like the man that pestered you was a down side. You had tried to be polite about it but he got physical grabbing your arm and pulling you off the stool.

Dabi had watched on. It was none of his business. “Han let her go.” The bartender ordered. The man only spat back “She’s a whore, she does this online all the time. Should be no problem right you filthy cockwhore.” It was those words that got Dabi to look at you closely. And low and behold you were one of his favorite camgirls @Namelive.

He was no hero but he had stood up and blocked the man’s path. “Move it scarface!” The drunkard hollered. “Let her go and I might just let you live.” He replied cooly, his blue flames licking at your cheeks. It seemed as though his drunken spell was broken when he saw the flames. He recognized the man and high tailed it out of there tossing you into his arms with a fearful cry of “I didn’t want that whore anyways.” He watched the man run off with a smirk then looked down to you. Your glossy eyes looked at him gratefully “T-Thank you.” If he smiled any wider, he’d pop a staple. You looked just as adorable as you did online. “No problem doll~”

It was cute how you promised to make it up to him. But he followed you nonetheless after all he wouldn’t pass up the chance to get his dick wet. Especially with a cutie like you. Truth be told that was why he stepped in. A disgusting slob like that man would only taint you and you’d stop your live shows. That or he would have killed you when he finished the act. And, Dabi had only recently found your page it’d be a shame if his new favorite doll disappeared.

“I-I don’t usually do this.” You stuttered. Oh, he knew. You had yet to invite someone onto your shows. But as you were paying him back you couldn’t deny that he was one of the best lays you have ever had. “D-do you think we could do this again?” It was cute that you thought it was a one time thing.

Needless to say, he came back wherever he felt like it. Sometimes he watches you while you do your shows. Those were some of your best because you got off on knowing he was watching you. Sure, you had others watching you online but something about him sitting on a chair near your camera watching you as you rode a thick dildo had you Cumming harder than ever. Your eyes just rolled back as you overstimulated yourself into a whiny mess as he dragged his hand up and down his length.

It was during a show that you had motioned him over. His face was out of view, but his cock was lodged in your throat. Afterwards you had asked him if he wanted to be in more of them. Dabi wasn’t opposed to the idea but, he’d have to make a few changes. “On one condition dollface.” “What?” “We cut that vanilla bullshit out.” “O-Oh” You weren’t opposed to that idea~

Takami Keigo (Hawks)

Takami was a very popular hero. But no one knew where he lived, and he would like to keep it that way. It was difficult for him to get away with sneaking in and out of his home, but he was glad that he had such great neighbors who always covered for him. He wanted to get home but was surrounded by the media? No problem he would just call Mrs. Choi the nice Korean lady who lived in 1D she would immediately appear with her van to hide him away. Or Mr. Umani who used his quirk to change his appearance so that he could get in and out of his apartment unnoticed.

Ms. Shirakuna from 3A usually had food for him since she over cooked for her family. Mr. Hinata was always up for a good chat. All in all, he got along with everyone in his building and he was so grateful for their loyalty. But there was one person in his building that caught his fancy. (Lastname) (Name). You had been living in the apartment next door for ages, and he had the worst stereotypical girl next door crush on you.

You were someone he could depend on for anything, so it wasn’t weird to have him knock on your door at 3am to ask for sugar. Not like that you perverts! The poor bird man sometimes arrives at odd hours due to is occupation and how could you refuse him? As a matter of fact, you would invite him in, and even though you had just been woken you’d whip something warm up for him. He could talk to Mr. Hinata but he preferred to talk to you to wow you with all of his heroic stories.

If he had one complaint about you it was that you never allowed him into your room. He had access to every other area, but your room was off limits. It tugged at his curiosity especially when you had friends over, and they were allowed in. It made him feel as if you two weren’t as close as he thought.

He was peeking through the peephole of his apartment one night as he had seen you park your car from his window. He usually didn’t do this, but you were with two questionably looking people. The male had a strange long case and the woman was dressed darky and hung off your body excitedly. You weren’t returning the hug which raised a red flag in his head. Once you were at you unlocked your door, he heard you speak “You guys can set up in my room.”

Keigo was a bit peeved. Even strangers were allowed into your room? He heaved a sigh and decided to head to bed….. He was drifting when he heard it. Heard what? You! He heard you scream, and he was out of his apartment in a flash. Using the key, you let him have, he unlocked your door and zoomed to your room, he practically dehinged the door.

“(Name)!” Your eyes darted to his golden one when he burst through the door. You felt your face burn in humiliation. Your arms were bound tight in red rope and your legs suspended in the air by ropes that were fastened on your ceiling. Between your legs was a girl named Yumi her tongue was at your clit he fingers buried deep inside your dripping cunt. Takami’s eyes widened at the sight his face reddening in shock.

“Nice underwear dude, you just messed up our stream.” The man operating the camera sassed. Takami looked down to his endeavor briefs and flushed. “Holy shit isn’t that-“ Yumi didn’t get to finish as you had pushed your cunt to her mouth to shut her up and protect Hawk’s image. Yumi took the hint and kept going her fingers resuming their pace inside you “Ah~”

Takami didn’t know whether to wait for you to finish or keep watching. But when the guy motioned to a stool his decision was made for him….

(Why was Shigaraki’s so long compared to the others? I... I really don’t know....)

#shigaraki tomura #dabi #hawks #keigo takami #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki smut #dabi x reader #Dabi smut #hawks x reader #hawks smut #takami smut #takami keigo smut #shigaraki tomura smut #Bnha smut

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disaster-fruit · 3 years

Note

67 with the pairing of your choice?

67) “If you want to cum you’d better beg.”

I wasnt gonna write this one with brarg since oxiosa already did it but then i realized we didnt actually get to see martin begging, so yep, its brarg.

Trans luci again because im in a mood these days apparently

CW: sounding

Martín considered himself a simple man in love. Love, the feeling, could be messy and intense and painful, but was, at its core, extremely simple. So was love the act. He never quite got the appeal of complicating it, of adding to it more than what came naturally and easily.

Loving Luciano challenged this a little. Martín, who had never used a single toy before, now had memorized the different sizes and feelings of each option in Luciano’s small dildo collection, and interrupting a make-out session to announce in a breathless whisper his choice for the night had quickly become a habit. He got used to these small changes, these moments of interruption and of waiting, but loving him was still, at the end of the day, extremely easy and extremely simple. Most of the time.

But once he got used to one type of toy, curiosity about others got the best of him. And Luciano, who had more experience with those things, was always more than happy to indulge his curiosity, but he had his own curiosities too. Mostly, about Martín himself, like an object of study, of a fascinated pursuance on how best to break him.

And that’s how they ended up like this.

Martín was on his back on the bed, with his hips settled on Luciano’s thighs. He wasn’t restrained, in theory, but in practice Luciano’s order – said softly like a request, a mere suggestion, but with a firm edge underneath – was very clear. Martín had both hands busy holding his legs spread up in the air, offering himself, granting Luciano full access, which was somehow much more embarrassing than having the choice completely taken from him with a physical restrain. And he was to remain like this, because Luciano needed both hands free.

Luciano was comfortably seated over his ankles, with only the tip of his vibrator inside Martín, buzzing lowly at minimum speed. All his focus was on the shiny metal rod on his hands, sliding on his palm to generously cover it with lube. It was about the size of a straw, but silver and cold, with small ridges along the length and a ring on top. It was something called a sound, and it was more intimidating than it had looked on the website.

“Remember,” Luciano said with a small lazy smile. “That you can’t come with this inside.” He took Martín’s erection in one hand, holding it straight. “But don’t worry, I’ll take it out when you’re close.” His other hand positioned the sound hovering over the small entrance on Martín’s cock. “If you ask nicely.”

Martín swallowed at the hidden threat behind these words. He closed his eyes shut when Luciano gently pushed the tip of the rod inside, but a hiss escaped from his mouth. The sound slid down easily with its own weight, controlled by the little ring on the top so that it would go slowly. Its ribbed body somewhat reminded Martín of Luciano’s textured dildos, but the feeling itself was quite different, and completely new. Every tiny ridge seemed to go through a thousand nerves in his cock he had never known were there, and though it burned, the pain itself was surprisingly little. Martín groaned in approval and slowly opened his eyes to find Luciano smiling it him, holding the sound still by the ring before it was fully in.

He pushed his hips slightly forward, making Martín moan in surprise as the vibrator went in a little further, stopping also not fully in, but very close to his sweet spot. Luciano moved again, very little, and when Martín let out a helpless cry of pleasure as he hit it, he halted.

He turned the vibration up a few points, making Martín’s entire body shake. He was used to being pounded and filled, but that constant, loveless stimulation of the vibrator only in enough to hit his spot was its own experience. Satisfied with his reaction, Luciano remained still and let the sound slide down all the way, and that was when Martín understood the trouble he had gotten himself into.

He gasped at first then threw his head back in an open moan. His heart was racing on his chest, his nails dug deep on the soft flesh of his tights to the point of hurting as a lightning strike seemed to destroy the whole world around him. It hit, so, so right, so strange yet familiar, overwhelming and maddening and new.

He read on the internet about how sounds could be used to hit the prostate from inside, in a way that was even better than the usual way. That had seemed very interesting, but Martín wasn’t expected to get both at the same time, and certainly no one could’ve prepared him for this. And Luciano was using a free hand to calmly stroke him from the outside, in such a combination of sensations, so much at the same time from every direction, yet Martín was thankful for the warm touch of skin, soothing him, taking care of him. The position didn’t let them kiss, but Luciano was softly rubbing his cheek against Martín’s leg, that was what he had closer at reach, grounding him to his loving attention.

“Good?”

Martín nodded a little more desperately than he would’ve liked, but Luciano looked very pleased. He pulled the sound slowly and Martín had to bite his lips to hold a moan as he slid it down again. He settled into a rhythm, sliding a little further every time, but pulling back before he could quite hit it again, at least most times. He would randomly let it slide down all the way to drink from Martín’s helpless reactions, but making each time a complete surprise. Martín had never imagined he could be fucked there, but yes, there wasn’t another word for it. Fucked inside out, there was nothing simple, nothing easy, nothing natural about it, but it was so, so right.

At some point he didn’t even quite see, Luciano raised the speed of the vibrator a little more, and Martín felt himself close incredibly fast, but using every will in his body he held it back.

“Something wrong, honey?” Luciano asked in an infuriatingly smug tone. “Close already?”

Martín refused to answer.

“Cat got your tongue?”

Martín bit down his lip harder. Luciano let the sound down completely, and his world was spinning. He was so close, if he talked, if he moved, if he let it go for even a second, he would come.

“Just say it, baby. Just say it and you can cum.”

His voice was so sweet, like warm honey luring him in. Martín was decided not to ask, Luciano couldn’t torture him forever, he told himself he couldn’t, but he was shaking and his body was promising such delicious release, he couldn’t hold back forever.

“Please, I-”

Luciano giggled, and, looking at him with his eyes full of love, thrusted his hips forward and buried the vibrator completely in him for the first time. Martín screamed in shock, and he would’ve come, he would’ve come beautifully but the sound was still fully in place.

“You can do better than that.” He whispered, so softly it could’ve been sweet loving words, if Luciano wasn’t evil. “I love making you feel good, baby. But if you want to cum, you’d better beg.”

Martín wanted to cry. He had held back orgasms before, to make a moment last longer, but he had never been denied one. He’d never let someone have such power over him, such control of his pleasure as to demand something like this. He didn’t beg, he- But Luciano was fucking him again with that evil little sound, pulling it by the ring like an evil puppet master about to make him say anything he wanted. Martín held his breath, not ready to give in even as he pushed it down, slow, always slow, and the vibrator now fully in him and at maximum speed, and well, at least Luciano wasn’t properly fucking him there too, it was already too much as it was. But he was smiling, such a relaxed little smile.

“Spread your legs a little wider for me, love. You’ve closed them a bit.” He asked, or it sounded like an ask, but it very much was an order.

And Martín hated following orders, so it was incredibly frustrating that the hidden authority in his words were more arousing than anything else. And Martín obeyed.

“Good boy.”

He would die on that bed, he was sure of it. He wouldn’t survive this man. Luciano started rocking his hips slowly, settling everything in one single rhythm, from the hand stroking his cock to the sound and the vibrator inside him. Martín felt his whole body shiver, his denied orgasm wasn’t even allowed to dissipate, and now Luciano was sliding the rod all the way every time, making sure to drive him mad. It was so much, from all directions, the tension pooling in his stomach was begging for release, begging for him to beg.

There was just so much he could take.

“Please, Luci, please. Please my love, I’m-” his voice came in breathless desperate gasps. “Let me- Please.”

He heard a chuckle. Luciano pushed his entire body forward, buried the vibrator all the way inside him, and pulled the sound out in one swift move. The way out was in itself maddening, with every single ridge passing through again, and the moment it was out Martín felt his orgasm take over completely.

After such delay, so much accumulated lust, it crashed like an ocean wave breaking against stone, magnificent and perfect and so intense and everything promised to him and more. Then, as it faded, Martín found himself floating, satisfied and relaxed from head to toe. And Luciano was smiling.

“How are you feeling, love?” Luciano asked in a whisper, running his fingers softly through his hair. “Was it too much?”

Martín opened his eyes slowly to meet his lover’s. All he wanted now was to bury his face in the safety of his chest.

“A little bit, yes. But I liked it.” He answered, doing exactly that.

“I’m glad.” Luciano kissed him on the crown of the head and closed his arms around him “I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Don’t worry…” Martín raised his face to give him a peck on the lips. “It’s hot when you get all bossy on me.”

Luciano let out a laugh.

“To be honest, I wasn’t sure I could make you beg. You’re stubborn like a mule.”

Martín laughed too, snuggling closer to him. That, at least, was still as simple and easy as breathing.

“You’re very persuasive.”

#im actually happy with this one!! earth is healing #thank you for coming to my sub bottom martin ted talk

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florbexter · 3 years

Note

Hi Flor! Can I request basically thara realizing he's a dumbass and is head over heels for frong, but he thinks he's ruined his chance with the whole "nong" thing he said?

Thara really needs to realize he’s a big old dumbass, so thank you for that prompt ^.^ I hope you like it ❤

I would be a fool (to not say I love you) || [AO3 Link]

Thara realized the extent of his actions as he was cleaning the gash on the left forearm of a fierce seven-year-old who had made herself the queen of the playground with a jump from an extremely high tree. The moment he had put antiseptic on the wound his brain had been flooded with an onslaught of memories of the volunteer camp and it had made click.

He froze and stared in horror at his hand, holding the little swab, and for fucks sake he really had said: “We are bro’s, right?”

He had said that. And for what it was worth he hadn’t meant it in the sense of being bro’s more in the sense of wanting to establish that they were close or that he considered them close and wow… he was a big dumbass.

He felt a scrutinizing gaze on him and almost jerked back when he made eye contact with his little patient.

Kids, especially girls, were something else. Thara was convinced that they held the answers to all the questions of the universe in their tiny bodies and that they knew it. Daonua, his little cousin, was the same with her endless questions and a gaze as if she just waited to be big enough to conquer everything. Which was fine with him, but he didn’t want them to know that he, at this moment in time, had a crisis because he was too dumb to get his phrasing right.

“There’s no need for stitches,” he said, and she actually frowned at him, not pleased with his decision. “But we are going to bandage it up.” It lessened the frown a little bit and he used the time to gather all the supplies to get a bit of order into his mind again.

Was this the reason why Frong avoided him?

Okay, it wasn’t like they had interacted a lot before the volunteering camp, their encounters had been coincidences, fate if one wanted to call it that, but they had exchanged numbers and Thara had even deleted all the pictures he had made of a shirtless Frong, with a heavy heart, but he was a gentleman and… he digressed.

He tried to concentrate on his task at hand, but his mind wandered.

How was one clearing up that kind of misunderstanding? Or was Frong on the same page? Did he think of them as platonic as well? What had his face looked like after Thara had said those stupid words? He couldn’t remember!

“All set,” he said and rolled away from the girl to write his treatment in her chart as he heard a short cough and he looked up to see the mother of the girl making little jerky head moves towards her daughter who inspected the bandage. He raised an eyebrow and her moves got jerkier and then he got it.

He cleared his throat and tried to look stern.

“I will prescribe a cream for you to apply on the wound, but the best thing to do is not to jump from high trees, okay?”

She rolled her eyes at him and scoffed.

Yeah… he had no problem with the rotation system of the med students, but he knew already why he wasn’t going to choose paediatrics. He was happier with brain scans.

The weary sigh the mother made before she ushered her daughter out of the room told him all about the success his little speech would have and when he wrote the last words of his report he had to smile.

And then he frowned. And put his head in his hands.

How could someone be such a dumbass? What had gone through his brain when he had said ‘We’re bros, right?’? Nothing probably. More like: Smiley Frong, brain shut-off.

Before he could second-guess his decision, he grabbed his phone and messaged Duen.

‘Do you have Frong’s schedule?’

His cousin answered in seconds.

‘Why should I have Frong’s schedule? He’s studying business management.’

‘Don’t you have access to the schedules via the university intranet? Look it up for me please.’

This time it took some time for Duen to answer.

‘Did you fall on your head? Since when did you graduate? You’re still a university student. You have access as well!’

Thara stared at the message for a moment and then laid his head down on the desk. Maybe a parasite had found its way into his brain, eating away on his brain cells. He certainly caught it when he was at the volunteering camp.

He stepped out of the treatment room to check if he had any more patients for the day but all the other kids in the waiting room had appointments with resident doctors and he quickly hurried past the nurse station to not get caught and made to do paperwork. The lounge for the med students was a little room, furnished with comfy but old couches, a wobbly table in the middle and shelves overflowing with textbooks. They were allowed to rest in the big lounges, which were brighter and bigger and had a couple of computers but for years now this room was favoured by the students. Someone was wrapped up in a blanket and sleeping on the couch so Thara stepped past them to sit down in front of the old and battered computer in the corner. Thara had never seen it turned off and speculated that was on purpose because it may never be able to boot again. The screen flickered, the ventilator did voices that were concerning but other than that the internet connection was fine and Thara logged into the university’s intranet.

It was even easier to get the schedule of the second year BBM students than he thought. Which was why he stood in the front of the business faculty an hour later and made his way to the computer labs where one of Frong’s lessons should end in about ten minutes. And he was nervous. How was he going to approach this?

‘Yo bro, just wanted to let you know I don’t technically think of us as bros.’?

What kind of hole had he dug himself? But it was too late to change his mind and think about this a little while longer. The door to the computer room opened and a bunch of students walked out and because his mouth still hadn’t learned to keep shut during important events he shouted “Frong!” as he saw him walking from the room in the other direction. His body even betrayed him, and his arm was raised for a wave.

Definitely, a brain-eating worm.

Frong stopped and turned around and Thara could see how he froze the moment he saw Thara and the change on his face, only for a millisecond, from surprised to reserved told Thara a lot. For example, the radio silence from Frong since the camp wasn’t because of his busy schedule.

He saw how Frong’s body swayed back, ready to just run away from Thara so he quickly walked up to him.

“Hey,” he said, strangely out of breath.

“Hey,” Frong answered and folded his arms in front of his chest. Which, yes, wasn’t a good beginning to all of this Thara thought.

“Do you have a moment?”, he asked, because it seemed like he needed to be in his most polite form.

“Why?”, Frong asked and his raised eyebrow almost touched his hairline. “Do you want to take me for a ride on your bicycle again?”

Ouch... That kind of hurt.

“Actually, riding your bike regularly will improve your heart and circulatory system and that’s not why I’m here.”

Frong sighed. It was the same annoyed sigh he had given him when Thara had wanted to buy the flowers and he had not missed it. Frong’s defence mechanisms seemed to be all about cutting someone where it hurt.

“I have a moment, what is it?”

Thara didn’t touch Frong. He gestured towards a little corner away from the curious whisper of Frong’s classmates. Frong’s posture was stiff and cold and Thara just wanted the Frong back who would smile at him.

Frong’s arms were still crossed and if annoyance had a face it would be Frong’s.

“It came to my attention,” and maybe it shouldn’t sound like someone had walked into the treatment room and had hit him over the head with the information about him bro-zoning Frong, but he was already talking so he continued, “it came to my attention that I’m a bit of a dumbass.”

Frong’s other eyebrow found its way to his hairline but something like curiosity sparked in his eyes.

“A dumbass?”

“Yes, like a huge dumbass. Things were said that weren’t really things I wanted to say.”

And Thara knew that Frong knew what he was talking about. And Frong’s stance became a bit less hostile.

“I didn’t mean them. I mean, I meant them in the affectionate spirit I thought I got across, which looks like I didn’t.”

Frong squinted at him and Thara felt sweat travelling down the back of his neck. Had he ruined this?

“Affectionate spirit?”, Frong asked and Thara’s heart pounded so hard he felt it in his throat. There was something akin to a smile lurking in the corner of Frong’s mouth and Thara saw how he fought against it but Thara knew he had a foot in the door, and he was going to push.

“Yes. I didn’t think my word would be perceived…”

“No,” Frong interrupted him, “that’s not what is important. Tell me more about you being a dumbass.”

“Big dumbass,” Thara agreed quickly and this time the smile was there. Tiny and cautious but there.

#florbexter writes #my engineer the series #tharafrong #romance #humour #tumblr prompt #canon divergence #ao3 link

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imagining-supernatural · 4 years

Text

The Surprise Illness

Part 16 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary: Reporters ambush you outside of the hospital

Word Count: 2,258

The last thing you remembered was Sebastian noting how hot you felt and insisting the two of you call it an early night just a few hours after the almost-kiss in the elevator.

Then you were waking up in the hospital late the next morning.

“What am I doing here?” you rasped out upon spotting Sebastian dozing in a chair next to the hospital bed.

He jerked awake and exclaimed your name. “You’re awake!”

“Yeah, and in the hospital. And that clock and the sun says it’s almost noon? It was just, like, eight o’ clock at night.”

Sebastian scooted his chair closer and grabbed your hand. “You had a fever and would barely wake up around 3 this morning when I tried to get you to take some more medicine. Dr. Chowdhury says it’s most likely a bug.”

“A bug? How’d I get… I’m so careful, how’d I catch a bug?” A muscle in his jaw jumped in anger and you realized, face dropping. “The reporters. They were shoving their microphones in my face.”

“Plus your immune system is super weak because of the treatment; it didn’t take long. And it hit hard.”

“Well, fuck.” You raised your free hand to scrub at your face, surprised at how sluggish your body was. That simple movement required so much concentration. “What does this mean for my treatment? I’m supposed to be getting the shots today.”

There was a knock on the door and Dr. Chowdhury poked his head in. When he saw your open eyes, he strode in. “Good morning, Y/N.”

“Good?”

He offered a smile at your challenge. “How are you feeling today?”

“Tired. My body hurts a bit, like the flu. Um… Surprisingly no headache.”

The scratch of a pen on paper was the only sound for a second while he notated your remarks in your chart. “That’s good about the headache. No pressure in your head either?” You shook your head. “Good, very good. I was worried this virus might have irritated your tumor and caused it to swell. That doesn’t seem to be the case.”

“So, what now?” Seb asked. “Will she still get her shots today?”

Dr. Chowdhury nodded. “And I would like to keep you for a few more hours. You are hooked up to an IV that should help speed your recovery from the bug.”

“Okay.” At your quick agreement, Seb squeezed your hand. “Do you think I’ll be able to go home tonight? I’d like to continue my streak of not sleeping in a hospital bed overnight here.”

“Barring any setbacks today, yes. We will do our best to help you continue your streak until surgery.”

“You know,” you mused with humor, “I’m sure the nurses are okay to hand me something themselves.”

Sebastian shook his head as he unscrewed the water bottle cap before handing it to you. Janessa, the nurse in question, grinned and winked at you before leaving the room. “I’m not taking that chance. They’re touching other patients all day.”

“And I think they know how to not pass on germs.”

“Still not taking the chance,” he insisted with no room for argument. Slipping into the bed next to you, he threw his arm over your shoulders. “I’ve been with you all day, so I’ve only been by your germs all day. They’re around everyone’s germs all day.”

You rolled your eyes but gave in, resting your head on his shoulder. “Surprised you let me even hold this water bottle, considering Janessa touched it with her bare hand.”

“Good point.” He moved as if to take it from you. With a loud laugh, you jerked your arm away, keeping it just out of his reach. His lips were pulled into a grin as he pretended to reach further to fight you for the bottle. If he’d been serious, it wouldn’t have been a fight at all. You were still paler than normal and weak as a twig in a hurricane. But you appreciated the lack of effort on his part.

Just before pulling back and settling back into the bed, he kissed the tip of your nose, warming your body in a way the thin hospital blanket couldn’t.

A rerun of How I Met Your Mother was playing on the TV and you turned up the volume. After a few minutes, you started drifting off, completely safe in Sebastian’s arms.

The rest of the day passed fairly quickly. Between reruns of sitcoms, being forced to eat cafeteria food, taking catnaps, and threatening Sebastian until he let the nurse take your temperature herself, you barely noticed the passage of time.

It wasn’t until you woke up and saw Sean with your phone camera pointed at the bed that you really noticed what time it was: just after eight o’ clock in the evening.

“What are you doing with my phone?”

“You two just look so cute right now,” he replied with a wink. “Picture perfect moment. Couldn’t pass it up. I didn’t want the stress of having a picture of you two on my phone.”

“I’d trust you with one.” He handed you your phone and you unlocked the phone to get to the gallery. As soon as you pulled up the photo he took of you and Seb asleep together, you were glad that you had your phone set up to allow your camera to be accessed without your security code. It was a damn cute picture. “Psychiatrist, media specialist, and photographer. Shit, Sean you really can do it all, can’t you?”

“Add bodyguard to that list too. Sebastian texted me that you guys were leaving around eight thirty. I got here a little early and decided to come in. There were a few reporters hanging around when I pulled up. Figured I could clear the way if they swarm again and your man there could keep ahold of you.”

“Damn reporters,” you grumbled.

“You can say that again,” Seb’s scratchy voice sounded from beside you. He shifted, stretching a little as he woke up. “Hey, Sean. Time to leave already?”

“Just as soon as I sign your discharge papers,” Dr. Chowdhury announced his presence, walking into the room. Seb slipped off of the bed to allow Dr. Chowdhury to give you a quick once over. Once he determined that your throat, ears, and nose looked good and that your fever was under control, he signed the papers and a nurse came in with a wheelchair. She assured Sebastian no fewer than three times that the wheelchair was sanitized before he let you sit in it.

Sean split off to bring the car around and you ditched the wheelchair in the waiting room. It probably would have been better to let yourself be wheeled out to the car, but your vanity overpowered your decision. You weren’t too fond of the idea that pictures of you in a wheelchair could be splashed across the internet.

Surprisingly enough, you managed to get nearly all of the way to the car before the reporters started circling. Sebastian and Sean had the one-track mind to keep them away from you and get you inside the car as soon as possible. Once you were scooting across the backseat to make room for Seb, he turned his attention to the vultures.

Seeing they were about to get a quote, the crowd quieted.

“You guys attacked my wife yesterday and exposed her to germs that got her sick when she’s already going through the hell that is cancer treatment. When I requested everyone keep their distance, it wasn’t just for privacy. The next time you prioritize your big story over my wife’s life, my lawyers and I won’t be so nice.” With that, he climbed into the car and slammed the door shut on their questions.

Quick, concise, and to the point. You could tell he’d considered his words in advance. Hell, he’d probably been thinking about them all day.

He was still thinking about them five minutes into the drive. You could tell by the tense set of his shoulders. So, you decided to try and lighten the mood.

“You feel like John Mulaney right now?”

“Huh?”

“Get away from my wife!” You did you best to imitate John Mulaney’s voice during that segment. “No one talk to my wife!”

He cracked a smile and you felt victorious. “I didn’t kill my wife!”

“Ooo. Who’s that fella?” You finished off the segment, unsuccessfully trying to hold back a laugh.

“You callin’ me your fella?” He asked, leaning closer.

The sparkle in his eye drew you in. “Maybe I am.”

“Hey, so…” Sebastian wandered into the bedroom the next morning. You’d been under strict doctor’s orders to sleep in and not come to the hospital until the afternoon for your infusion. So that’s exactly what you did.

And while you were sleeping in, Seb had gone to get a workout in, since he’d missed it yesterday.

Which brought you to now: Him walking in, fresh from the shower, and you on the bed with your laptop, catching up on your finances.

“Hey, how was your run and, uh, weights?”

“How are my weights?”

“Yeah. They doing good? Feeling neglected?”

He laughed. “God, Y/N. You are so smart about so many things but you have no idea what goes on in a gym, do you?”

“Yeah I do,” you replied defensively. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to prove it. “Lots of sweating and, uh, grunting? Guys taking off their shirts to show off. People drinking from water bottles? Probably a lot of regret.”

With an eye roll, he flopped down on the bed next to you. “Once you’re all better, I’m making you come to the gym with me.”

“Does your gym have a spa there? Or a massage room, at least?”

“Yeah. But I’ll only let you use it after you work out.”

You scrunched your nose in distaste. “Pass.”

He closed his eyes, a content smile still on his lips. With a fond shake of your head, you went back to updating your finance plans.

A few minutes later, Sebastian sat up and pulled something out of his jacket pocket. He fiddled with whatever it was for a second before hesitantly saying, “Y/N?”

“One… second…” You finished what you were doing and set aside your laptop. There was a strange tone to his voice. It was serious, but slightly unsure. Whatever he wanted to talk about, you were sure he wanted your full attention. “Okay. What’s up?”

“I was thinking… since your name is out there and we’re not a secret anymore…”

“Seb, it’s me. You don’t have to beat around the bush.”

“I was wondering how you felt about wearing the ring.”

Well. That was not where you’d expected this conversation to go. “The ring.”

He plucked the diamond engagement ring from his hand and held it between his fingers. “The ring. I also, uh, I guess I should have talked to you about this before… but I swung by a jeweler this morning and picked out wedding bands too. For both of us.”

For the longest while, you didn’t know what to say.

It wasn’t like you had to pretend that you’d gotten married for love. He’d told the truth about your wedding on Seth’s show. It was on tape that you’d had a drunken wedding and stayed married for insurance purposes.

So if he had actually purchased wedding bands… a physical tie between you two… that had to mean something, right?

“I-I’m… I’m not against it, I just—why?”

“I don’t really know. Well, I know, but I also don’t, you know?”

“No. Not at all.”

He huffed a sound somewhere between a sigh and a scoff. “I guess I just thought that since I’m flying to Georgia on Sunday to start filming the show and we’ll be apart so often… I don’t know. Maybe it’s stupid.”

“It is stupid,” you assured him with a teasing smile. “It’s stupid of you to think that since we’re not going to see each other every day that we’ll forget each other. I mean, I know you won’t forget me because I’m pretty amazing and all. Thought I guess it isn’t a long shot to think that I’ll forget you. The guy who bought me oreos. The guy who I’ve slept next to for the last week. The guy who yelled at paparazzi for me. The guy who is literally saving my life. The guy wh—”

“Okay, okay, I get it.”

Looking at him, nervously fumbling with the ring in his fingers, you realized this was about something more. This wasn’t just him being a good person. It wasn’t Sebastian helping someone survive cancer.

This was about Sebastian and you. You and Sebastian.

This wasn’t about a drunken Vegas wedding officiated by Elvis. This wasn’t about cheating the system to get insurance.

This was about your relationship with Sebastian.

“I get it too,” you said softly. After a moment and a deep breath, you extended your left hand and stilled his anxious fingers. His eyes darted up to yours where you hoped he saw his same hesitance, fear, and hope reflected there. “I get it, Seb.”

Without any further conversation, he gently slid the diamond ring onto your finger. Out of his pocket, he presented you with an engraved gold band and your heart was beating at a million words per minute as you slid the band onto his left hand as well.

RINGS!?! And, gah! Stupid reporters!!!

Also, I wrote this long before this whole Coronavirus and rereading it now was like GEEZ I was ahead of my time with the whole germaphobe thing...

CHAPTER 18: THE WORK CALL

#sebastianxreader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader

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nobodyfamousposts · 5 years

Note

Hey Nobody! 👋 Do you do short requests if someone has an interesting prompt? Or do you know any writers that would? I have an idea for some angsty Alya Salt that I can’t get out of my head, but unfortunately I suck at writing. *Where Alya goes to a journalism 101 lecture and they happen to use her interview with Lila as an example of what not to do. “Always check your sources!”*

Alya was excited. She had been looking forward to this web seminar on journalism for weeks now. After all her efforts, she had finally managed to score access to the live lecture being run by Victoria Berger, one of her role models in the field! It had taken quite a bit of effort and she still owed Marinette her soul and a date with Adrien for using her connection to Nadja to get this chance, but it was worth it! It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the day and she should be in class right now. She wasn’t going to miss an opportunity like this.

By the time she had managed to sneak away and get the laptop set up, the lecture had already started. Luckily, she hadn’t missed too much. There was Victoria already at the stand and beginning her lecture for those who were able to attend in person. Lucky! Maybe someday Alya would be able to get there.

She grinned. She could already see it now.

“But there is one thing that can make or break any reporter.”

Alya felt her skin tingle in excitement, pen at the ready to take notes.

“Facts.” The speaker stated, continuing her lecture. “You need to have facts and information that can be verified. It’s a form of science of its own, if you think about it. Much like any scientific experiment, it has to have two things—reliability and validity. Is the information you are trying to share valid—is it true? And is the information reliable—can other people investigating the information come to same conclusion?”

How true! She nodded, jotting the notes. But of course, she knew all this already. That was why she was already so successful.

“These two things are vital, and make all the difference between your work being a legitimate news source such as Le Monde or Le Figaro…or a tabloid like the Ladyblog.”

Alya froze as a tightness started in her throat.

It was an open forum, so viewers were allowed to ask questions. And naturally, one such question came up asking for clarification on this statement about the Ladyblog. Alya felt some relief that it didn’t have to be—that someone else clearly thought highly enough of the blog to question the statement. Because…she did such great work! How could her own idol see her blog as a tabloid?

“Misinformation is actually more dangerous than people not getting information in the first place. Thanks to the Internet, misinformation is much more widespread, and reports such as the Ladyblog can spread false information with widespread consequences before accurate information can be made available.”

Wait—consequences?

“Due to reports from the Ladyblog, there have been at least three separate instances requiring documented increased police presence around the François-Dupont school.”

Wait—police? Alya gasped, feeling her stomach drop at that. But…she hadn’t noticed anything…

“The first, was when the admin of the blog accused one Chloe Bourgeois of being the city’s resident super hero. However, this was disregarding previous and well known footage of the superhero in question rescuing that very victim in the first attack. Something that was widely available, and should have been checked first before making such a claim. Rather than do so, the blogger instead chose to violate boundaries of a private citizen’s for information that was already available.”

But…that had been Chloe. And she had been expelled unfairly over it. The truth had come out in the end anyway, hadn’t it?

“The second was when the blogger made the claim that the hero might be a student at the school. This was based entirely on circumstantial evidence of a book that was obtained during an active crisis. By all counts, the book could’ve belonged to anyone and ladybug might have simply been returning it, and by taking it to use for information rather than try to return it, what the young lady did was legally theft. Perhaps even blackmail.”

That…that was just journalism! She had been seeking the truth. It…wouldn’t have really caused legal trouble, would it?

“Both of these instances involved the blogger violating privacy and ethics in order to find information that at best would be considered circumstantial and far from accurate. In order to get the information she wanted, she jumped to conclusions, went to extreme lengths, and ignored risks not only to the validity of the information she was trying to seek, but the people it could hurt, and even her own life.”

It hadn’t hurt anyone, though! It wasn’t like anything could have happened!

“What if she did find out Ladybug’s identity? People would then know who to accost. This would open up our hero to threats, violence, and harm not only from the very villain she has been attempting to protect us all from, but even criminals and regular civilians looking to gain something from it. She could have been attacked by anyone seeking this Miraculous of hers for themselves, and then not only would a young woman be grievously injured over an avoidable matter, but the city would be down a hero—if not gain another supervillain. There are risks to what we do. Consequences to what information we share. And it’s not just for ourselves. Part of being a reporter is not just knowing when to put out information, it’s knowing when not to.”

A cold feeling of dread climbed up Alya’s spine. She…she hadn’t even considered…

“Which brings us to the third incident, an interview with a student by the name of Lila Rossi. Miss Rossi is the daughter of a diplomat and a frequent traveler. To the blogger’s credit, the interview was made with the student’s permission. But that doesn’t change the fact that the interview consisted almost entirely of lies.”

If she thought her heart was in her stomach before, it had surely dropped to her knees now as she watched how they systematically disproved every single one of Lila’s claims through contradictions in her own story, contradictions when comparing her other stories, and public information that Alya could easily have found had she even tried at any point to look.

And the worst part? After having her site and her work criticized, dissected, and discredited for the world to see, it was hearing that one line. That last thing before she couldn’t take anymore and exited the web seminar, tossing the laptop to the other side of the hall she had been holed up in. That same line she had previously told Marinette when she was still so sure of herself. The one thing she hadn’t done when it came to her stance on that very issue.

“A good journalist always checks their sources.”

#ml fic #ml prompt #ml plot bunny #ml salt #alya salt #ask and ye shall receive

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1zashreena1 · 4 years

Text

Angst Fluff Whiplash -14

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: What does an apex predator do after confessing undying love? Princess is about to find out.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

Non-descriptive sexytimes, the L word, criminal activities glossed over, relationship building, plus size woman+fit man, Anxiety, This one is all feels and

I Am So NOT Sorry.

THE TIME HAS COME

A/N: Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

TAGLIST: @chelsfic @symbiont13 @nicke0115 @bunnykjm @rosee-sensuelle @girlpornparadise @mandoplease @heresathreebee @xxsteph-enrixx @jetiikad @joalsglasses @mutantcookiesecrets @demoncatstone @squidlywiddly87 @lockedoutofmyotherblog @poeedamerons

"I don't know, Lisa. He won't tell me. Not until this weekend apparently? We're supposed to go shopping."

"Honestly, I'm scared. I mean, there's the whole how did he get a passport FOR me dilemma. Then the part where he knows I don't like surprises. And he said he was calling my sister!"

"Oh my God, she could tell him anything! Please don't tell him about the Backstreet Boys phase. I'm going to have a panic attack."

"Of course he would tease me about it for eternity!"

"What? Watch what words? What are you talking about?"

"Do not hang up this phone! Do you even love me?!? Lisa? …. Hello?"

You toss your phone down on the bed and heave a huge sigh. Your very own BFF, abandoning you like that. Luckily its your own phone and not the insane cell Diego got you because it bounces off the other side of the bed and smacks into the wall before admitting total defeat to gravity.

You stand there staring at your open suitcase. Your typical items are in there already. You don't need any toiletries. Or makeup, now. Or bras. Or underwear. Fucking hell, its like I already moved into the penthouse with him.

… Could I do that? He already basically asked for it. He keeps telling me to quit my job and let him spoil me for real. You wring your hands together while rubbing your lips against each other and being bombarded with intrusive thoughts. Yeah. Until he's done with me and then I have to start all over. At 35.

But its been almost a year now that you've been seeing Diego. What does that even mean, "seeing" him? You think about how the last few months have been so… easy. He practically lives in New York now, their territory split. He opted to control the East Coast and let his sister deal with the logistical nightmare of receiving the imports.

He has been a lot looser since then. Faster to laugh, quicker to goof around, less likely to do anything as hard as he used to do. The distance from Alicia has allowed him to really flourish in every aspect. And he's beautiful with it. The laugh lines and the soft brown eyes wreck you every time.

He says he wants to keep you. Take care of you. You finally believe that he loves you. He has made so many improvements in communication. Hell, he read books on how to be with someone on the spectrum. Do you understand it? Hell no. Are you going to take it and run? Fuck yeah dude. I love him and I want to keep him.

And now he wants to take you on a trip. A surprise destination. Out of the country with a mostly legal passport. You don't doubt that you'll be safe with him. Your parents were a little concerned when you told them since they've never even met him. And they saw him on the national news that time he got arrested by the Feds, so that really inspires confidence.

Your middle sister Lynne and niece Halley accidentally met him that one afternoon about a month back. And they have not shut up about it since. Diego this, Diego that, blah blah blah, paid the restaurant bill in cash, yadda yadda, took us all shopping to a Coach store and then got Halley some crazy new sold out Nikes. Diego had been delighted to be surrounded by a gaggle of giggling girls enjoying his spoiling attentions. Just like always, Diego went to the max and charmed them silly.

It was like having an out of body experience to see Diego with them. You couldn't really fault them, he swept you off your feet with no problems. He was grinning and joking the whole time, making raunchy comments with your sister and encouraging your niece to be assertive (unnecessary according to her soccer coach and the 'Most Aggressive' trophy). He fit right in with them. Afterwards he had asked if that was what it was like to have normal siblings and your heart broke thinking about what his childhood had been like with his sister.

Which brought you back to the here and now. He had mentioned off hand that he was going to call your sister. Maybe you should text her. She might know something.

Maybe you should just pack your bag and trust him.

Your Diego Cell chirps and you dive for it on the nightstand. Is he okay? Please don't be hurt.

Its a pic of him. In the shower. With his own hand wrapped around himself. You choke on air and have to sit down.

I miss you Princess

Holy. Shit. Its been almost a year that you have had unrestricted access to that incredible body and your reaction is still the same. Before you can respond another text arrives:

SOON

The attached pic is just from squinty eyes up.

You burst out laughing at him. You love that he is secretly a nerd about internet stuff. His appearance would never give that away. Time to be ridiculous right back.

Don't make me lick your eyeball

You are a crazy person laughing to yourself alone in your bedroom.

You are so weird

Yet there you are, lusting after this weirdo

You shoot back.

… Am I the weirdo??

No. Still you.

I would threaten to bite it.. but you would like that

Well now you have to

Oh my God. You're fairly certain you could do anything to this man and he would think it was sexy. Its a novel experience.

Can we eat dinner at home tomorrow? I don't feel like wearing a real bra

You know the answer to that.

YES. NO MORE BRAS EVER AGAIN. BE FREE

… no panties?🙏🥺

You can see the hopeful puppy dog eyes clearly.

A for effort babe. One of these days you might get your wish lol

...Are you panty free right now?

Wow. He is really trying here.

I'm packing.

Your pic is a heap of tangled thongs dumped on top of Tiny Murder Panther.

💜🔥😛

He would find that hot. Fucking nympho.

Lemme finish this so I can go straight to the airport tomorrow

Fine. But I am pouting

You do not doubt that.

Don't care. Still love your stupid face

You cannot believe you just sent that.

Princess.

Mi amor.

Diego's good little girl.

You shudder with the praise. You can hear it in his voice, as if he were right here with you.

I love you

Dream of me?

Oh baby, if you only knew. You sigh wistfully.

Always, baby

---------------‐---------

The flight is uneventful, thankfully. Your maxidress with a built-in shelf bra is stupidly comfortable and you actually take a nap.

The plane has barely come to a stop and you already have on your silly lambswool lined Ugg flip flops. You had argued with Diego about these (Why would flip flops need a warm fuzzy lining??) but he had won by sticking one in your face and ordering you to feel. It didn't take a full second for you to snatch them both from him and cuddle them to your chest. His pleased smile full of dimples was worth all the subsequent teasing.

You slip on one of his previously stolen shirts in a metallic lilac color and roll up the sleeves so you have use of your hands. Bending at the waist, you flip your hair over and fluff it back up from the nap. What was that he had said? Oh yes: Wild and thick, just how I like it. The memory makes you bite your bottom lip and smile.

Bastian is waiting for you on the tarmac. He takes your bag and kisses you on the cheek in greeting. "Hey, sweetie. Nice shirt, is that new?" His knowing grin is infectious.

You nuzzle into the collar with a laugh. "Thanks! My boyfriend gave it to me."

Bastian chuckles as he opens the passenger door for you. "Oh, honey. That is not all he is going to give you." He closes the door while you roll your eyes smirkingly.

The ride to the penthouse is uneventful. Well, as uneventful as Friday evening rush hour traffic can be in New York.

Bastian waits until the song is over before lowering the stereo volume. "We're supposed to pick up dinner. Any requests?" He drums his fingers on the steering wheel while you sit at the red light.

You ponder the options. "What kind of a day has he had? Meetings? Tours? Disciplinary action?" You ask Bastian thoughtfully. Sometimes when Diego has a bad day he likes comfort food. Mostly a giant heap of rice and beans next to homemade tortillas, he isn't so picky about the variety of meat.

Bastian glances at you out of the corner of his eye before warily answering, "There was a… termination… at a construction site this afternoon that took longer than expected. That's why he didn't come to get you, he wanted to shower first."

You keep your eyes focused forward to look out of the windshield. "Okay. How about Jalisco's then?" Comfort food it is.

Bastian nods and adjusts course to obtain those tortillas.

‐--------------------

The instant the elevator doors ding open Diego pops up from the sectional and comes straight at you. Your giant sidestep to let Bastian pass is barely completed before Diego is slipping those big hands under his own pilfered shirt to crush your body to him. Your arms go around his neck like a reflex, like this is their natural resting place. He leans his forehead down onto yours and kisses you so very gently.

"Mmmm. Hi." You murmur softly into his beard. Those bottomless brown eyes look over your entire face before coming back to your own. His smile is huge, those dimples make your pulse trip. He blinks slowly down at you, just like the big cat you nicknamed him after.

"Princess. How was the trip?" He always asks you this. You still aren't sure if its just culturally specific manners or if he is requesting a review of the flight crew's performance. Either way, your answer is always the same.

You pull him back down so you can cuddle into his neck. "Its better now that I'm here." He rubs his cheek against your own and purrs directly into your ear in response. Your body's reaction is immediate and decisive. You shiver in his arms and your nipples peak to full attention.

Except this time is different. With only a bralette and the dress's shelf bra Diego can clearly feel what just happened in real time. His eyes are comically round as he peers down at your cleavage in pleasant wonder.

"Oh. I like this outfit." His hands rise up your back to crush you further into him. You chuckle and rub your chest on his firm pectoral muscles. He watches hungrily as your compressed decolletage rises higher yet from the added pressure. "New rule to match the bedroom pants bar, no bras in the penthouse. Fucking magnificent, bonita." He licks his lips after making this proclamation.

You throw your head back and laugh joyfully.

‐----------------------

As it always does the weekend passes too quickly. Its already 1:00pm on Saturday when you two finally come down from the bedroom.

Diego is delighted to hear that your time-off request was approved for the trip. You had told him not to worry about it, your boss always kept her word about this stuff.

That’s when he pulls a ridiculous pith hat out from under the couch. It looks like it came straight out of a Looney Tunes cartoon about a big game hunt on the African savannah. You lose your entire shit and laugh until you do that silent clapping seal move.

Diego keeps repeating, "Wait, stop laughing. Stooooop." But he isn't faring much better. You finally wipe the tears and calm down enough to take it from his limp fingers while he chortles a few last times.

"Baby. What. What the fuck. What fucking is this??" You plunk the hat on your own head and Diego collapses facedown into your lap to gigglesnort uproariously. "Stop. Stop laughing. Stoppit!" You smack the back of his head lightly until he comes up for air.

He closes his eyes and composes himself. You take the opportunity to plop the hat on his head.

"Oh my god, that is so sexy!" You declare in high dramatics.

He grabs your hands and leans in very close to explain. "You need this hat for our trip." Your eyes narrow in suspicion. "You will wear it for our safari quest…" he pauses for dramatic effect and your lips twitch in suppressed amusement. He leans closer yet and captures your stare. His face is hilarious, you can tell he is biting his cheek to keep from laughing. His eyebrows are drawn down in concentration but his eyes are widened in mock excitement. He sucks in a deep breath to exclaim, "To locate palm trees in the wild!"

He laughs as he puts the hat back on you.

You blink a few times in shock. Palm trees? You're going somewhere with palm trees? A tropical locale. Palm trees. Beaches. SWIMSUITS. Your sudden panic must show on your face because Diego's laughter dies off.

You blink furiously, but its too little too late. The tears burn as they well up in your eyes and spill down over your cheeks.

He reaches out to cup your face. "Princess?" His tone is an even mix of concern and fear. "Bicki? What?"

You shake your head 'no' and throw yourself into him. Diego catches you and hauls you into his lap. You curl up against his chest and sob quietly. He pets over your hair, open handed strokes so his fingers don't tangle in the curls, and soothes your back while you shake. Rubbing his nose against your temple, he kisses your cheek and whispers, "Do you want to write?" His gentle care only makes you worse. "...so that is no." He looks crestfallen. He buries his face in your hair and breathes heavily.

Your tears are slowing and your chest is finally beginning to loosen. "Dieg-" you hiccup, wrapping both hands around his forearm. You wheeze a few times before trying again. "I. I. Where? Where are we g-going?"

He sighs deeply before answering. "Nowhere. I won't take you somewhere you don't want to go. I should have known better. I-" He snaps his jaw shut so fast that his teeth click together.

Tilting your head back, you try to catch his eyes. Diego won't look at you. "H-hey, please." You cup his jaw and pull him down to you. He comes, but the motions are stilted. "Look. Please, baby. Let me s-see you."

When he finally meets your eyes it breaks your heart. That chocolate gaze is disappointed, hurt, frustrated even. You wiggle around until you're straddling his lap. He just holds his hands out of the way, not hindering you but certainly not helping either. Standing up on your knees to lean your forehead against his, you reach for his hands and bring them to your chest where you lace your fingers together.

"Baby. I want that." Your nose rubs against his as you speak. "I want to go everywhere with you. I never thought I would ever get a chance like this. To travel? To go somewhere tropical? To have someone who loves me enough to do this for me?" You're crying again. And so is Diego? A little??

He brings your joined hands up to tap your chin. His face is adorably conflicted when he speaks, "You… want to go?" You nod slowly. His eyebrows lower as he tries to make sense of this. "Then why do you cry? Are they, the uh, is that 'happy tears' ?"

Your hands shake in his. "Yeah. Happy tears. I just. I was overwhelmed. I'm sorry." He huffs out a sigh. You continue, "Its almost like the super intense emotions short circuit my responses and I guess my default is panic crying? I don't know."

Diego huffs at you again. "Please stop that. I'm going to have a heart attack." There is a hint of real annoyance in his voice but his lips curl up at the corners.

You free your right hand to reach up and brush his wet lashes. Why did something this little bring him to tears? "Baby, is everything okay?"

He leans into your hand, then turns to kiss your fingers. You giggle, you can't help it, his beard both tickles and delights you. He smirks at you, "It is now, Princess. You should get dressed so we can go."

But you're not done here yet. "Where are we going on the trip? A place name, not foliage that may or may not be present."

His Cheshire cat grin is intriguing and mildly worrisome. He gives you one word, "Xcalak." And then watches while you access your mental map and pinpoint the exact location.

It takes you a moment but you find it with a gasp. "Costa Maya? Like Caribbean-sea side of Mexico??" He nods and you immediately start in with 20 Questions. "Are there cenotes? Is the water really those unreal colors? Is the food amazing there? Can we see ruins?"

Diego cups your face to stop you. "Whatever you like, little girl." With a kiss to your nose and a smack to your ass he ushers you upstairs to get dressed.

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

The shopping is less traumatic than normal for you thanks to Diego making enthusiastic innuendo nonstop and feeding you between stores. You find sandals, and flip flops, and little slip-on sneakers. All kinds of flowy maxidresses and flouncy skirts paired with new tank tops in buttery soft fabrics. Cover-ups and kimonos and huge airy loose knit sweaters get rung up with linen pants and shorts you actually feel comfortable wearing.

But swimsuits? A disaster. Everything that fits your hips is way too big for your ribcage. Tankinis big enough to go around your middle are about a foot too wide around your chest. You try some maternity stuff… amazingly there isn't any chest support. That confuses both of you for almost 20 minutes while you discuss it over croissants and various iced beverages (coffee for him and some kind of hot chocolate slushie for you).

Then you look across the street and inspiration hits. One of the stores you order bras from is right there and has bra-sized swimwear in the display window. Diego turns to see what stole your undivided attention from him and slaps his hand down on the table in celebration.

You aren't sure which one of you is more excited to get into the store. But while you run around exclaiming at all the things that come in your size Diego stands in the doorway and gawks. When you circle back to check on him he just points to one display wall.

There is lacy, frilly, corseted lingerie. In. Your. Size.

He demands one of everything that fits you and isn't red, brown, or yellow. You don't even argue.

The store does alterations and makes very good recommendations. The sales clerk is impressed with Diego's input, she comments that he really does seem to know your body well. You flush with it, glad that he isn't close enough to hear that. You leave with three bags and seven personalized swim outfits under construction. One is ready to wear and you keep reaching into the bag to touch it in wonder.

Diego notices but just gives you a raised eyebrow.

"This is the first time I've ever felt good about how I look in swimwear." You confess quietly.

Diego wraps a massive arm around your shoulders and tucks you into his side while you continue down the sidewalk.

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

Sunday is a mess as you try to make pancakes and Diego tries to remain physically attached to you like an excessively attractive barnacle. The pancakes are either burnt or still batter in the middle. Leftover carnitas and tortillas to the rescue. Diego teases you about the kitchen failure all day because this is the first time he has witnessed such a thing.

You doze on the couch under the pretense of "reading". Diego rotates through his laptop, cell, and the soccer match on ESPN+.

Until his phone rings.

You both tense up. Only one person calls him instead of texting. He takes the phone into the office to answer his sister. You wait on the couch to see which Diego you get back: silly tickle fight Diego, sad puppy dog eyes Diego that requires cuddles, or angry Diego that needs to fuck you through the nearest horizontal surface.

The elevator dings and Julio comes in with a tray of coffees. "Ay, Gordita. Buenas tardes. I got you the hibiscus thing you like." He greets you with a big smile, then looks around when he doesn't see Diego on the sectional with you.

Hopping up to help him carry stuff, you point to the office in indication of Diego's location. Julio makes a face, "Hermana perra?" and you simply nod. Julio takes Diego's iced coffee and bites the bullet for you. The door closes softly behind him.

You munch plantain chips and slurp hibiscus lemonade until they come out. Diego just looks tired when he comes back to you on the couch, coffee in hand. You open your arms in invitation and he plops next to you with a sigh. Cuddly Diego it is.

He doesn't tell you anything and you don't ask. Everyone watches the match mindlessly. Diego snores softly in your lap while you pet his hair.

He rides to the airport with you but you forbid him from coming onto the plane with you. He is already making this harder than it has to be with his big brown eyes and clingy hands.

"Baby." You breathe into his hair while he snuggles into your neck in the backseat of the SUV. "Its only a week. We do this every week." You pet down his bicep and immediately regret it.

"I know." Diego huffs into your skin. "Why don't you just quit? Let me take care of everything." You go through this almost every week now, too. He nuzzles you, the sensation makes you reconsider his proposal. You pull his head up by a fistful of soft hair and look him in the eye. He blinks guilelessly at you.

"Number one: No. Number two: Stoppit." He laughs at your fond exasperation. "Okay. I'm gonna go. You stay on the ground."

"Fine." He whines. "But I am going to send you a dick pic the moment that plane takes off." He crosses his arms as if daring you to tell him no.

You cup his stupidly attractive face in your hands for a kiss. Okay, several kisses and 27 minutes later, you respond, "Send me one every day. Its my favorite dick." His startled laugh makes you feel very pleased with yourself.

He pulls you into his arms again to kiss you one last time. His beard scratches and you sigh into him. Finally that tongue retreats and he rests his forehead on yours. His voice is low and rough, his hands squeeze tight on your hip and thigh, "I love you, Princess."

Will that ever stop hurting? You close your eyes against the burn of tears but smile with happiness. "I love you, Diego." You pop the door handle before you open your eyes to see him watching you, jaw tense. You stick your tongue out and he breaks into a smirk. With a laugh, you slide out of SUV and walk to the plane, determined not to look back.

When you get up the stairs the pilot greets you, but his gaze shifts behind you. Turning around, you see Diego standing outside the SUV, arms crossed and trying to look so not soft. You smile and mouth Bye baby, he gives you a short little wave. You duck into the plane before you can start crying.

The wheels are not, in fact, off the ground when the phone chirps.

‐-----------------------

The trip is a few weeks out and there is some kind of emergency at the San Diego docks the next weekend. So. You don't get your Murder Panther fix.

And your coworkers notice. They spend all day Monday strolling past your cubicle, straining their necks to see if you're wearing new shoes or some fresh bling. Finally someone has the nerve to ask how your weekend was.

You find yourself blinking back tears. I miss him so much. This is ridiculous, he just texted you at like six this morning. But its not just the conversation you miss, now is it? You miss that big body crowding you into the corner of the couch. His soft curls under your hands. That beard on literally any inch of your skin. Draping yourself over shoulders wider than your hips and knowing that not only can he take your weight, he likes it.

He says he wants to keep you and you desperately want to keep him. Why do you fear this? Is it just his profession? The risk? Oh god, how do you even go about introducing him to your parents??? Diego can be all kinds of charming but he can be a real asshole, too.

And they know what he is: A criminal. For your boomer parents he is the living embodiment of Public Enemy Number One.

Grand Theft.

Money Laundering.

Arson.

Murder.

International Cocaine Trafficking.

HE IS A LITERAL DRUG LORD.

You lay your head down on your desk and try to keep it together.

Your Diego Cell chirps.

Your laughter bubbles up until it comes out of you without your consent. It turns hysterical and you realize you need to leave the office suite. Now.

In the bathroom you stare down at the phone as it lights up again with another message.

Miss my Princess💔👑

How? How is someone who can do all those illegal things so nauseatingly sweet to me?

And then it hits you. Illegal. You didn't use the word immoral. Illegal. You think back to how everyone you see working directly for him is well into adulthood. No children. There are a few women but they are not being sold by him, they are there by their own free will. And he has never laid a hand on any of them, they're just as comfortable around him as the men are. No sex trafficking. You saw someone give their resignation last month. The dude walked away with a suitcase of cash for a decade of trustworthy service. Its a better retirement plan than what I have.

Have you seen him assault people? Yes. You've seen him stab people. Carve off someone's ear because they weren't listening as assigned and it cost the Jimenez Cartel a shipment. You've seen him push an informant down an empty elevator shaft. Choke a man into unconsciousness with his bare hands when you were disrespected.

And you still love him. Not a single one of those incidents weighs on your conscience. Your morality is a dingy grey 12 year old men's undershirt that you should just throw away but you're definitely going to cut into rags to keep for cleaning when it comes to Diego.

The cell lights up again.

Mi amor 💞😍🍑🏝✈⏲👙

You don't know what's worse: His excessive and ridiculous usage of emojis or the fact that you understood.

Look what came

The attached pic is a few pieces of your new swimwear. They look gorgeous, you can't even tell where the alterations were done.

You have to try on all of them. And show me

Of course he wants his own personal show. You feel desire burning low in your belly. Its been a year and not once has he ever shied away from your stomach rolls or hinted at weight loss. He never questions the food you order. And while the two of you have chuckled about shapewear he has never mocked you for using it. Or seemed disappointed when you opted not to wear it. He tosses you around like its nothing and prefers for you to sleep on top of him. Its not that he loves you despite your weight, he loves it as part of you.

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

Its now Thursday and the desk drawer where you keep your purse at work is vibrating. He knows I'm at work. If he calls right back I'll answer him. You try to keep your Diego Cell out of sight at work or you'll never get anything done. Plus your coworkers are always dying to catch a peek of your infamous sugar daddy/boyfriend.

Yeah. Boyfriend. Keep practicing that. It feels good.

You finish the insurance call and hang up your headset when the vibrating starts again. Your next door cubicle neighbor pops around the divider to advise you to answer that before he comes down here and abducts you.

What deity should I pray to for that??

You snatch Diego Cell and march out to the hall. Poking the green button, you answer the call.

"Baby. You okay?"

"Princess! I… yeah. I'm not hurt."

He sounds odd. There is definitely something going on here.

"What's up? You need me?"

The silence stretches.

"Yes. Please?"

Diego sounds very uncomfortable. It causes you physical pain.

"Well, you have me. What is it?"

You can hear him swallow and in your mind you picture him looking away, hiding some soft emotion shining in his eyes.

"Baby?"

"Here. I am here. I just. I just wanted to hear you."

Something is very wrong with my Murder Panther, you think.

"Babe," your voice is soft, you're trying to ease him. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

He huffs and you can hear him scrape a hand down over his face. "I know you are at work. And I should not have called. But."

His voice trembles, even over the phone you can hear it. He's afraid.

"Diego. If you need me, then you have me. Tell me, baby." You try to be reassuring but you also really need to know what is wrong.

"I would like to come down there." His declaration is overly formal. You wonder who he is trying to impress. Its certainly not me.

"You… want to come down here instead of me going up there this weekend?" You're trying to make sense out of any part of this conversation.

"I…. grrrrrrrrr." He growls in frustration. Between English being his second language and your sensory processing issues, this is not an uncommon occurrence. He sucks in a deep breath and charges forward in an emotional rush. "I know you're working, but I want to come down there because I miss seeing your face." Before you have a chance to answer he adds, "Pick me up? At the airport, after work? Please, Bicki." His voice cracks at the end and his inhalation is ragged. Your heart implodes.

"Diego. Baby. Of course. Of course I will. I can be there by six." You have a mental flash of how dirty your bathroom is, all the clothes you have laying around, and the vacuum you haven't touched in over a month. Diego needing me is more important.

"Good. Good. Yes, I. I will text you. When I land." His voice is raspier than ever, low and gravelly.

"Sure. I'll be there." I'll always be there.

"Okay. You… you should go." You can hear his determination. You can visualize him squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw, taking on the Jimenez Cartel persona.

"Hey." He grunts in acknowledgement. "I love you." You blurt it out before you have a chance to talk yourself round in circles. You can hear voices in the background.

"And you. You as well." The call ends, but you know.

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

You're sitting in your car at the little regional airport second guessing the coffee you got when the phone chirps.

Here

Springing out of the car, you wave to the security guard as you trot past. "Hey Jim, I just have to grab someone real quick. That's okay, right?" You wave vaguely back toward your car parked in the fire lane. There are only four security guards who work here and they all know you at this point.

Jim laughs but waves you on. "Go get 'im, sweetie." Jim must be pushing 90 by now, he doesn't care about traffic laws.

You enter one of the two sets of automatic doors on this entire building and cross through the tiny lobby. There. You can see his dark hair and ridiculous shoulders over a completely unnecessary row of potted plants. He must hear your echoing footsteps because his head whips around in alarm, but his face relaxes into a wide smile. He lengthens his strides to come around the stupid plants, hands automatically reaching out for you.

"Diego." You laugh breathily and fling arms around his neck. He smells so good.

He crushes you to his chest and buries his face in your neck. "Printhesss." He murmurs into you, slurred because he refuses to remove his mouth from your skin.

Turning your head to kiss his cheek, you moan shamelessly for him. He surges back upward to capture your lips and kiss you with mild desperation. That devious tongue sweeps over the roof of your mouth before curling up behind your top front teeth.

Your entire world narrows down to Diego. Chocolate. Tastes like the smoothest Belgian chocolate in existence. He smells perfect, clean but definitively male to you. His silky button-down is smooth under your hands, stretched taut over muscle. Those massive hands gather you closer, molding you to that big, solid body. His beard scratches your face in soft tickles when he alters the angle of the kiss just so.

"Goddamn." A woman's voice exclaiming somewhere behind you catapults you back into the here and now. Which is a dinky little regional airport in rural central Pennsylvania. You know, a very public location in a very prudish area of the country. Fuck.

You pull back and Diego's hands shoot up to the back of your head. Holding you in place, he leans his forehead against yours with a contented sigh. He rumbles softly to you, "Take me home."

You feel so silly seeing Diego in the passenger seat of your Corolla, he just seems so out of place. "You can adjust the seat however, nobody really sits there. I just put it all the way back to make sure you can get in without cracking your head." You sound nervous even to your own ears.

Diego turns to you with a response but his attention is captured by the cup holders in the center console, specifically the Dunkin Donuts styrofoam cup. He points to it, then looks up at you with a slow grin. "Princess. Is this for me?"

You flush but can't stop the embarrassed little smile so you cover it with sass, "Well, it sure as hell ain't for me." You start the car and give Jim a little wave. He winks and gives you two thumbs up. Yeah, I'm aware that you saw that kiss too, old man. Everyone saw that shit.

When Diego reaches for the coffee his fingers brush your hip. The contact burns and you suddenly remember that you have not touched this beautiful man for well over two weeks. Apparently he remembers, too, because he wraps that huge hand around your thigh with rather a lot of force. Right hand slapping down to cover his, your heart rate jumps through the roof. Did I take my blood pressure pill this morning?

"Don't." You choke out.

He rumbles softly next to you, purring with conceited pleasure. "Did my Princess miss Diego?" He asks you with an incredibly pornographic voice.

"Oh, fuck you." Your answering groan is also obscene. So glad the windows are up.

His hoarse chuckle makes your thighs tremble. "You're Diego's good little girl, you will." He's right and you both know it. You would ride him right here in your own damn car if he demanded it. You have a problem.

He lets you redirect his hand to the coffee with only a little resistance. "Focus." You hiss.

"Me or you?" Diego quips.

"Yes." You declare.

Diego's guffaw is contagious and you don't even try to hold back.

Your apartment always seems like an adequate size until Diego is inside. No, bad Bicki. Do not say it like that. His presence just sort of… lounges about in a vaguely threatening but highly attractive manner. Much like the actual man on your couch. You tried to pick up dinner on the way but he just wanted to 'go home'. You are disgustingly happy that your place feels like home to him.

Diego had flopped on your couch immediately and hasn't moved since. Something is very definitely very wrong. There were bursts of your Murder Panther in the car, but he has been just subdued overall. He had turned your stereo up and smiled faintly, watching you sing along. He had also complained that the stereo in your car sucked (Agreed) and this was unacceptable. You're sure he'll do something ridiculously extravagant to remedy this.

You try to give him the remote, he takes it but doesn't do anything with it. You offer him food, both junk and something home-cooked, all you get is a shrug. You putter around for a while, picking things up and sighing before putting them down somewhere else. His dark eyes watch you, unfathomable.

Finally you disappear to the bedroom only to return in your pajamas. This he likes, perking up and blinking rapidly. "Okay, I know you brought something softer than those jeans, so get comfy so I can order shitty pizza and cuddle you."

His jaw drops in momentary shock. Then he scoffs, "I do not cu--"

You cut him off, "Yes, you do and yes, you're going to. Up. Now." This has to be hilarious. This short little woman in overly long pants barking orders at the massive man who heads an international drug cartel. Well, its either hilarious or fatal. I'm about to find out.

Diego looks around, as if someone else might secretly be here to witness him be a little bit submissive and moderately soft. He raises his chin in a tiny show of defiance. "Fine. But I am showering first." He glares with this proclamation, daring you to contradict him.

You throw your hands up in the air. Why the fuck would I have a problem with that?? His eyes follow your hands, like a cat when you try to point out a bit of food but all it does is rub your finger. You sigh, resigned to your fate. "Of course that's fine, Diego. You know where everything is, have at it."

You watch his butt as he walks away to the bathroom.

The pizza actually isn't shitty and Diego eats half of it by himself. When you offer him the cinnamon dessert sticks he shoots you a calculating look. You split the contents, pulling two sticks over to yourself and piling up the rest in front of him. His delighted grin is decidedly not calculated and you lose track of time watching him enjoy dessert.

He's beautiful like this. He wears a soft, silky t-shirt that is tight enough to help you get through the nights you spend alone. His hair is a riot of fluffy curls, free of product and clearly trying to break free of gravity, too. He hasn't shaved for at least a few days and that salt and pepper beard is filling in nicely. His face is unguarded, expression open, those laugh lines and dimples you love make frequent appearances.

After dinner you lay all over each other in some weird we-have-intimacy-issues approximation of cuddling. It works so you don't question it. He has his laptop and you have your tablet and together you have sporadic conversation. Its comfortable.

Until Diego asks you a seemingly innocuous question that you know is very nefarious:

"What color do you like in cars?"

Your eyes narrow so much that you have trouble seeing. "...Why." Your low tone might be frightening to anyone else.

He looks at you over the laptop screen, brown eyes innocently wide. "Just curious. Your car is green. Do you like any other colors?" He slowly pulls the laptop closer to himself to subtly cover the screen with his bulk.

"Diego." You slowly put down your tablet and start leaning toward him. He has nowhere to go, propped up in the corner of the chaise end of the sofa. "What. Are. You. Doing."

"Will you let me take care of you? Just in this one way right now?" He licks his lips, brow furrowed in concentration. Building desperation shows in his eyes and you can't fight that. You don't want to win this.

"Let me see, baby." Your sighed acquiescence has an instantaneous effect. Diego drops the tension from his shoulders and opens an arm to you in invitation. You crawl up him to cuddle into his chest, wedged on your side between all those muscles and the back of the sectional. From here you are stationed directly in front of the laptop screen.

He is looking at cars.

Armored cars.

Armored, bulletproof, explosive resistant cars.

What. The. Fuck.

"Diego, what the fuck is going on?!?" Your apprehensive demand sets him right back on edge. You can feel him go tense underneath you. The laptop gets shoved onto an empty cushion as you throw yourself over him. Tiny hands land on those broad shoulders with extreme force as you use all of your deadweight to trap him. Below you, Diego shakes but you can't tell if its from anger or anxiety because his eyes are scrunched closed tightly. "Tell me why I need a fucking bulletproof car!"

He surges up into your face to match your volume, "She knows! Mi hermana perra knows about you! Alicia found out about us!" You lurch back in shock, but the steel hands on your hips stop you from retreating. His voice is hoarse, louder than you've ever heard him, and its terrifying. Your fear must show because he releases his grip on you like it burns.

"WHAT?" The ramifications here could truly be lethal. Alicia has already tried to set Diego up to take the fall when they were arrested almost four months ago. You know she has scorned Diego's familiarity with his men in the past, that is why he handpicks them personally. To Alicia, everyone is disposable, even her own brother. Her only loyalty is to herself.

Diego's hands come up in an aborted reach for you. You're still too shocked to move. His face crumbles in agony and he blinks furiously, hands balling into fists. "Everything I have ever wanted she has ensured I never got. She, she manipulates me into destroying everything I touch. I will not let her hurt you! I refuse to allow her to break us, mi amor!!" His volume has steadily escalated until he is yelling.

He's afraid. He is afraid that he will lose me. The realization emboldens you enough to take his hands in your own, bring them to your chest, and press them close to your heart. You trust that he won't hurt you in his rage. You don't fear him, this dangerous, powerful, ruthless man that you love.

His hands open to slide up your shoulders, curl around your neck, and his thumbs glide over the pulse point under your ears. He brings your face to his own, his expression twisted up with fear and anger and possession and love.

"You are mine! And I will keep you!"

You realize everything that you have been debating with yourself, all of your pro versus con lists, your stupid little dry erase board covered in sticky notes with your fears, your scribbled timeline of events and possible future predictions, none of it matters. All you care about is the man in your arms. Diego is the most important thing in your life and you can't imagine a life without him. If you had to give up everything to keep him, you would do it in a heartbeat.

Your hands grip tightly around his wrists and you consciously straighten your spine. Expression hardening, your eyes open to meet his anguished gaze.

"I want black."

The armored 2020 Camry is delivered that Sunday. You thank him for finding something inconspicuous with an upgraded JBL sound system and he compliments your understated color choice of Black Sand Metallic. By the time you drop him off at the airport that evening you've managed to replace the new car smell with something better and you're thankful that the leather seats just wipe clean. Monday morning in the parking lot at work, however, is a literal ordeal.

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

The next two weeks feel like they’re seven months long. You clock out at noon on Thursday to a chorus of your coworkers making vaguely lewd remarks and howling with laughter about your vacation. 'Two whole weeks on a beach in Mexico with an absolutely loaded hottie' is what they've been repeating gleefully all week.

You turn around and walk backwards to give them finger guns, "Yes," then you reach down to adjust your pants, "And YES." Their squeals are contagious and you're still laughing when you burst out the front doors to drive home.

You turn the volume waaaay too high in the car so that your teeth vibrate and it feels like you're having heart palpitations. I love this fucking car and I love that man.

There is a rental Tahoe parked in the grass next to the huge gravel driveway at your farmhouse, but he left the second assigned parking space next to your Corolla open so you can park The Beast (as you have affectionately named your new ride) appropriately while away. When you get out of the car you glance up instinctively, Diego is standing outside your front door on the small third floor balcony laughing.

"Are you deaf yet, Princess?" He hollers down in amusement.

You flip him off with the middle finger that wears the gemstone ring he gave you while yelling back, "WHAAAAT??"

His laughter fades as he disappears inside, leaving the door wide open to let out all the cold air. Were you raised in a barn?? Close the door, the electric bill-- You cut off your own thoughts when you suddenly remember that you haven't been paying that electric bill for the last six months. Nevermind.

Before you can start up the stairs, Sara, your first floor neighbor, appears on the porch with their toddler. "Hey stranger!" Sara waves with a big smile and the kid does the same but with some kind of unidentifiable kitchen utensil in hand. "That is your boyfriend, right? He had a key so I didn't think it was your ex but I wanted to make sure. I mean, from what I just saw it is your boyfriend. Also, holy shit, that's your boyfriend?"

If she says the word 'boyfriend' one more time I'm going to spontaneously combust.

"Uh yeah, definitely not my ex. Sorry, I forget that you guys haven't really seen him before, I meant to tell you he was coming." You can feel your face burning and it isn't from the August sun. Sara fans her own face with a hand while mouthing 'he's hot' like you're somehow unaware. You forge on before she can start gushing aloud. "We're actually leaving on a trip tonight so I'll be gone for the next two weeks."

Now Sara drops the kid and scrambles over to whisper fiercely to you, "Oh my god, seriously? Where are you going? Wait, this is the same guy you've been going to see in New York, right? How long has it been, like a year? Is he taking you on a trip for your anniversary? I don't even know his name. Oh my god, that is so sweet!"

Okay, down girl. You're not sure who you're trying to will into being chill, Sara or yourself.

"Um, we're going to Mexico. And yeah, he's the guy in New York. It's just a vacation." You don't even touch the relationship questions with a ten foot pole. You glance up but Diego is still inside, Thank fuck.

Sara hops a little in excitement. "I'm sooo jealous!" She squeals. "You have to take a ton of pictures! I need to see! Oh my god, I bet you guys are such a cute couple!" You nod and start backing away, trying to wave goodbye so you can climb the stairs and then climb Diego. "Ooh ooh, wait, what's his name?" Sara hisses conspiratorially. "Does he speak Mexican? Is he Mexican!?!"

You suddenly remember why you tried to move away from this area. Repeatedly. "Yeah, he's Mexican and yes, he speaks Spanish." You sigh. Sara nods but continues staring at you expectantly. Fine. "His name is Diego."

Sara makes a stupid face like this is a rom-com movie. I cannot take anymore, you must shut the fuck up. "Okay, okay. I won't hold you up. But seriously, we can have a 'pics and wine' girls' night when you come back!" She waves maniacally before snatching up the kid and skipping back inside.

I can't think of anything I would like less. Oh hell no.

You climb the stairs in record time before she can come back outside and start talking again.

Bastian, Julio, and a third man you don't know are in your living room. You do not care and your vague wave shows it. You can hear Julio's warm 'Gordita!' greeting as you spin around and march to the bedroom.

Diego is standing at your bed, tucking TMP into your small duffel, when you burst through the doorway and continue at full speed directly into him. He laughs breathlessly but holds steady against your weight. "Princess. Are you ready?"

You take overflowing fistfuls of his shirt, bury your face in his chest, suck in a huge lungful of air, and shriek at full volume.

"Uhhh...that is a yes, si?" He mutters uncertainly above you.

You rear back to look up at him with a smile so wide it hurts.

"Oh good." His hands come to your shoulders while those beautiful brown eyes sparkle. The dimples and laugh lines come out as he absorbs your infectious excitement. Your hands shoot up to his hair to yank him down so you can crash your mouths together with bruising force.

The effect is immediate. He moans loudly and crushes you against him. You dig nails into his neck and you lick your way into his mouth, his hands snake down to your ass to hold tight. Your left leg comes up as you try to wrap it around his hips. With a pained groan he rips those lips off of yours and pulls back. Undeterred, you move on to assaulting his now bared throat, moaning like porn come to life.

"Princess," he gasps, "You have to sto-- uhhh, yes, bonita. Your fucking tongue." You're too busy licking his adam's apple to pay attention to words right now. "Nooo, mi amor, please, lo siento, stopstopstop." You get in one last nip of his collarbone as he pulls your head back via a handful of ringlets. His pupils are blown wide and he's panting hard. You stare longingly at his delectable mouth while making pitiful whines.

"Please, baby, pleeeease. You're all I've thought about for days. I need you!" You try shameless begging, you're certainly not lying. Petting over his shoulders and down that solidly muscled chest, you shudder and try to pull yourself back to him.

He closes his eyes with a grimace. "Flight! Fuck you on the flight!" He croaks, then yanks your hair harder than you like. The pain clears the fog just enough for you to blink back to awareness. You nod jerkily and step back. "Have to leave now to get there before dark." He explains in a rushed huff. You blink as you remember how time works.

"Right. Yeah, right. Okay. Okay." Straightening to attention you yank off the cardigan you wore for the air conditioning at work, leaving you in a tank top and ready to be productive. Focus on not-dick.

Diego shoves your favorite notepad in your face so you can see your packing list and not him. The distraction works. He has checked off every item in each categorized list but left the strike through action for your completion. You lower the notepad until you can make eye contact with him and intensely whisper, "You know I fuckin' love you, right?"

He laughs so hard he has to sit down on the bed.

You go through every bag, touching each item and crossing it off your list one at a time. He did it. Everything but you.

"You know I don't need TMP, right?"

"Why?" He squints up at you from where he lounges across your bed.

Your face heats up and you clear your throat. "Well, its, I'm. I have, uh, you. So I don't need anything else." The realization of how true that is in every sense gives both of you pause.

Diego surges upright to cup your face and bonk your foreheads together just a little too hard. You giggle and he huffs.

"Mi amor…" he sighs for you, eyes closing in pleasure. You 'mmmmm' in response. Then his eyes snap open and he growls an order, "Get changed so we can go!" And punctuates it with a stinging slap to your ass.

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

You spend the flight with your face pressed to the window, vibrating in excitement, except for a brief intermission of seven orgasms in the bathroom.

The unknown third man is Joey, Bastian's boyfriend. Joey is even quieter than Bastian and just as cute. They're not overly demonstrative but clearly comfortable moving around each other. Joey works in "Packaging" and does an admirable job of ignoring his cartel drug lord boss being snuggly. Julio naps.

The customs agent at the Cancun airport looks you up and down with wide eyes but stamps your passport with no questions. Its a five hour drive to Xcalak but Diego is adamant it can be done in three. You give him an eyebrow question which he dismisses with a vague wave, "They paved the road all the way to the southern border last year."

Uhh, they what now? You understand soon enough. The drive drastically changes outside of Cancun. The scenery is both beautiful and heartbreaking. There are occasional mansions with armed guards, high fences, and SUVs like your own current ride. Mostly though, its shacks and people on foot or riding bicycles, weaving to avoid stray dogs and huge iguanas. Could I handle this as my daily reality?

The first time the road sidles right up to the ocean you have a small meltdown.

"Is that what I think it is?" Your soft whisper is accompanied by a shaking hand pointing to the left. Diego, crammed into the middle of the backseat between yourself and Julio so you could have an unobstructed view, indicates an order for Bastian to pull over. He reaches across you and pops open your door. You slide out with his hand on your lower back and take about a dozen steps to the lapping water. Diego appears to your right, watching you intently.

"Its gre-e-e-en!" Your stuttering squeal is accompanied by happy tears and you fling yourself into Diego with joy. He laughs at you, but hugs you back just as tightly.

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

The first week passes in a blur of amazing food, warm green sea, fruity drinks, and shirtless wet Diego. And so many orgasms that you can't keep count. Diego is all over you non-stop, more than he ever has been before (Astonishingly). Its incredible and you feel like the only person in the world. If he's not molesting you then he is at least touching you; keeping you in his lap, holding your hand, cuddling and petting and snuggling like a man obsessed.

You love it. You love him. You love this life.

On Saturday he lets you lead him through the tiny town, your Spanish improving by leaps and bounds as you try to navigate the streets and alleys and shops. The four years of high school Spanish actually prove useful as you manage to complete a purchase all by yourself. Your playful mock smugness evaporates under the blazing desire in his eyes.

He drags you back to the casita in a much shorter and more direct route than you took upon earlier departure. You're marched directly to the bed and he puts one massive hand in the middle of your chest to gently push you down onto your back. There is something different about this, something important in his eyes. Your voice is high and soft, "Diego?"

He climbs up between your legs and leans down to kiss you senseless. It goes on forever; soft lips, scratchy beard, silky tongue, and nothing but the taste of Diego. Your moans and sighs are mixed together, there are moments when you can't tell who is making what noise. His hands are shaking as he strokes every inch of newly bared and sunburnt sensitive skin while undressing you.

It takes repeated attempts, but you finally get him naked, too. The sight never fails to take your breath away. All that soft, and now freshly tanned, skin is like velvet to your touch. You're mesmerized by his muscles flexing and then evening out as he moves above you. He finally gets your linen pants untangled off your left foot and flings them across the room with unnecessary force. Your soft peals of laughter light up his face and it brings tears to your eyes. You reach a hand out to him, "Diego. Baby."

He comes up over you, threading fingers into your hair, kissing you slowly and thoroughly. You can feel him against you, fire hot and mouth wateringly hard, but he makes no move to take you. Your eyes open in hazy confusion as the kiss ends. Diego is watching your face, blinking back tears.

He is holding your head still, hands like steel. Whatever this is, he needs it. And you want to give him everything he needs. Forever.

You're captured by his eyes, bottomless, soulful, and hungry. His raspy voice is soft and trembling with desire. "I love you, Bicki. I want everything. Forever, Princess?"

Your chest compresses and your heart implodes. Scalding tears escape when you blink and you're nodding before you even know it. "Yes, Diego. Yes, baby, I'm yours."

Your back arches off the bed as he comes home and brings you with him.

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

You wake up crushed under Diego. The sun is still up so you might be able to talk him into going out for dinner. You rub your cheek on the huge bicep doubling as your pillow and Diego sighs directly into your ear from where he is spooned up behind you. Oh yeah, we should have done this waaaay sooner.

He nuzzles your neck just to incite squirmy giggles and you don't even fight it. "I have something for you, Princess. Stay here." He pulls away and you whine about the loss of your pillow. His low chuckle burns you alive with want. "Stay like that. Do not move." You obey while you listen to him rummage around behind you.

He comes around to your side of the bed, still completely and unabashedly nude. Hell. Fucking. Yes. You love it. He hands your glasses over and you slide them on to take in the now high definition view of naked Murder Panther. The view disappears as he kneels down next to the bed so you're on eye level. His expression is very peculiar.

His hands slowly come up to reveal a small box of black velvet. Time slows to a halt as he opens the box and presents it to you.

Inside is a ring. Gleaming in platinum and sparkling with three tastefully large princess cut diamonds.

Its an engagement ring.

Diego is proposing.

He swallows hard and rumbles gruffly, "Now remember, you already said y--"

You cut him off with a shriek. "YES! YESYESYES!!"

In the time it takes him to blink twice with surprise you're on him. Arms around his neck, you throw yourself into his lap. He topples backwards and you ride him to the floor, already bawling hysterically.

He stares up at you in shock as you nod furiously and cry all over him. "Princess. You… you are certain?" If this were any other time you would be howling with laughter at his huge eyes and lax jaw.

Your answer is stuttery but determined. "Y-y-yeah. Put it-t-t-t on me already!"

He laughs in delight at your order and the imperious presentation of your shaking left hand. The ring glides on easily, a perfect fit. It gleams up at you blindingly. After a moment of admiration you lace your fingers with his and sigh at the union. His other hand comes up to roughly brush away your tears. "I know you do not like labels so much… but, you will be my, my married... Person. Thing?"

You stroke his bearded cheek in return, thumb lingering on that dimple. With a hard gulp you dive in head first. Fuck it.

"Yes, Diego. I will be your wife."

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

The next time you wake it is dark out. You reach for a phone on the nightstand to your left and jump when you find one with a loud crack. Diego pops upright behind you, instantly on high alert. "Princess?" He hisses while covering your body with his own.

You gigglesnort, then meekly answer him, "I forgot about the ring and whacked a phone. Everything's okay, baby."

He sighs so deeply that his breath ruffles your hair. "Jesus fucking christ, woman. You are a menace." He flops down on top of you and snuggles back into your warmth.

You reach back with your left hand and grope blindly for his face. He licks your fingers as soon as they're in reach and you stuff them into his mouth as retaliation. He just sucks languidly.

"Mmmmmm, I'm your menace, baby. And I have to pee." He nips your fingers but rolls over to free you. You slide out of the bed and stretch your arms high while arching your back. Diego groans painfully. "What?"

Diego rises to all fours on the bed while the sheet slithers off of him. "You forget that other people can see without glasses, huh?" You cock your head and realize that you have a shadow.

It's a full moon. And I just stretched naked in front of a sliding glass door. "Oh. Huh. I guess I do forget. Oops. I'll be sure to keep that in mind now." Your seemingly tame answer is directly contradicted by the exaggerated roll of your hips that makes your butt bounce when you walk off.

"Fucking menace, woman." Diego growls as you push the bathroom door shut with a trill of laughter.

You never do go back to bed but you do wind up on the beach in front of the casita to watch the sunrise. Julio finds you both snuggled together late the next morning, still asleep on the covered daybed under the palms while the rising tide comes ever closer. At least Julio has the decency to cover your bare ass with a beach towel.

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

By the time you think to check your phone gallery you have… 1,792 pictures. WHAT THE FUCK.

You scroll through the pics, there are a lot you do not remember taking. Was I that drunk or did Diego take some of these? One is a close up of your ass from below wearing a string bikini, I knew I wasn't that drunk. The next pic is Diego asleep on a lounge chair, one arm curled up above his head, muscles glistening in the sun, and swim trunks so low on his hips that it's almost obscene. Immediately following that is the same pic but with your own face photobombing about three inches away from the camera and giving a thumbs up with your left hand so your engagement ring is prominently visible. Oh yeah, I remember that one.

There are videos, too. The first one is Diego making lewd comments while you twerk in the ocean for about ten seconds. Okay, that's par for the course with us. Next is you successfully backflipping off of Diego's shoulders into the green water to everyone freaking out. Shit, even I'm impressed with myself. After that is video of you gagging through a dish of octopus at some restaurant. Both of you are clearly visible in the shot so Julio must have had the phone. Betrayal.

There are tens of dozens of the two of you in various poses and outfits, both disgustingly happy and blatantly in love. There's even a role reversal shot of Diego sprawled across your lap, one enormous arm wrapped around your neck and his knees over your own arm while you grimace and he laughs hysterically. The table to your right is covered in empty bottles and mostly finished drinks. An entire subsection depicts you asleep like you have a stalker. You count no less than 29 of you two trying on increasingly ridiculous hats in random stores.

You can't even keep count of all the close ups of a smoldering Murder Panther. You feel no guilt. Aren't you supposed to be ridiculously attracted to your fiancé??

Fiancé.

You have a fiancé. Your fiancé is Diego. You are engaged to Diego Rafael Jimenez.

I have to explain this ring to everyone. They'll have questions about him. People will want pictures. How do I explain what he does?? Oh my god, there's no closet here. I have to… find somewhere. And I can't I can't. Its-

Your head jerks upright when something touches your hair. Its Diego. Kneeling on the floor in front of you, he has unfurled a sheet over you to block out everything, and he waits there, watching you. Before you realize it your hands are reaching for his shoulders, just the feel of him, warm and solid under your hands, calms you.

Slowly, his right hand comes up to cover your left. "No closet, Princess." His huge fingers grip yours tightly. You nod a little. He just watches you, eyes guarded.

"Ask. Go ahead." You mutter. You can tell from his posture that he is uneasy, apprehensive.

He locks eyes with you and his gaze is intense. He curls all of his fingers around your left ring finger. "Still yes?"

The fear in his eyes breaks your heart. Your voice is shaky but determined, "No. You can't get rid of me. I'm your problem now, baby." His expression would make a meeker woman cower in fear, you laugh weakly.

He settles down on the tile floor in front of you, with the sheet over both of you. Its like four in the afternoon and I am sharing a blanket fort with my cartel boss fiancé while on vacation in Mexico. What even is my life? His elbows are on his knees, chin in hand. He studies you for a minute, you stare right back. He raises one eyebrow and you sigh in capitulation.

"I don't know how to just be happy. I suck at it." You shrug but reach for his face. Diego nuzzles into your hand while you stroke your thumb over his beard.

"Habby isz nawt a berb." He slurs into your palm with a soft kiss.

The epiphany is like a cinder block to the brain.

He's right. I don't have to 'do' anything. I'm happy right now. I've been happy every time I'm with him. And no one had to exert any effort.

People can define themselves. People can define their relationships. Why can't they define their own normal? I can make my own rules. Especially with someone like Diego as my partner.

His one eyebrow slowly rises as he watches your thoughts play out across your face. "You back?" He asks with a hidden smirk, you know its there from the way his eyes crinkle with laugh lines.

"Yup!" Is your decisive answer. Diego licks your palm. "I got better places you can lick, baby." You answer his smirk with a waggling eyebrow.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of play wrestling and inappropriate noises.

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

You do, in fact, go on a safari. Of sorts. Tours of ruins and jungle and cenotes, lots of side quests because the both of you are easily distracted by pretty colors. You probably added another thousand pictures of various palm trees to your gallery. The hat makes multiple appearances.

Diego has to ship a crate home to New York because he bought you too many souvenirs. You laugh and tease him when he wants to pick out things for your middle sister and niece, until you hear his logic.

"They were nice to me." He murmurs with a little half-shrug, "It was like being in a real family for a little bit." He studies the bins of painted shells on display in the little store with way too much focus.

You spend a moment deliberating before you decide to reach out and touch his elbow.

"Hey," your soft voice brings his gaze your way momentarily before he goes back to ceramic turtle magnets. You take his hand with your own right and rest your left hand on his chest. Diego looks down where your ring glints in the light, then up to your face. "You know you're going to be part of that 'real' family, right?"

Diego's boyish little smile is heartbreakingly adorable.

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

The flight home is much shorter than you want it to be and you spend most of it asleep on Diego. At one point you wake up to see Bastian and Joey cuddled up together napping. When you look up from where your head is resting in Diego's lap he is already looking down at you with an unreadable expression.

"What?" You whisper softly. You stifle a yawn and blink repeatedly.

Diego strokes one big hand over your hair and grips your jaw firmly. With a huge toothy grin he answers, "Mine."

"Uh huh. How many times you need me to say yes, baby?" You smirk up at him with an arched brow. He seems to be reveling in hearing you readily admit your commitment to him.

He considers your question carefully while his other hand trails down the front of your body under a blanket. I don't remember having a blanket earlier. Finally, Diego settles on "Every day. At least seven times. Seven is a good number, right Princess?"

Your body jerks as his fingers press between your thighs with steady determination. Your eyes flick over to Bastian and Joey, still out cold. You make a show of wiggling around to get comfortable, and, surprisingly, that involves spreading your legs. "Yessss." You hiss up at him.

Julio reclines his seat and exaggeratedly covers his face with a new hat.

Seven is a very good number.

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

Your first day back to work is a circus. You don't think twice about your normal greeting as you enter the office suite. You swipe your badge with your right hand and pop the door, then wave 'hi' to everyone. Like usual. With your left hand.

There is an excessive amount of squealing that makes you second guess going into a female dominated field. The whole day is a wash because you have a steady stream of people passing through your cubicle. You're glad you had the forethought to curate a photo album of appropriate images to show your coworkers despite Diego's repeated attempts to sneak a dick pic in there somewhere. You most definitely included the glistening swim trunks lounge chair picture. Squealing intensifies.

Everyone comments on the hat and you're forced to tell the story of the hat. How you once told Diego that you wanted to see palm trees, 'But like, in the wild.' And Diego had laughed so hard that he fell off the bed only to pop back up wheezing about a 'Palm Tree Safari' until you smacked him in the face with a pillow. Your coworkers think it is just disgustingly adorable that he never let you live that down.

Your coworkers have questions:

When is the wedding?

Where are you having it?

What kind of dress do you want?

What are your colors?

Are you going to do flowers?

What about the cake?

Who is your maid of honor?

How did your family take the news?

What about his family?

Are you going to New York?

Will you take his name?

Oh shit. I forgot about the whole 'wedding' part of this.

#damnit diego #murder panther #rough me up then dick me down #24 fucking 7 hours in this house #zash writes #all the feels #so gross #soft murder panther #melty princess

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yandere-lovehotel · 4 years

Note

Can we get a part two of that demon x reader story you wrote please??? 👀👀👀

I'm so happy that someone wanted a part two. I was contemplating writing a part two anyways but I'm happy to see someone requesting it. This is SFW and is shorter than part 1 but I hope you enjoy it

Warning: pregnancy with A bit of a pregnancy kink. Just a little bit though.

The only noise to be heard in the bathroom was your retching as you bent over the toilet. Marzath watched you fondly as he knelt beside you, holding your hair back.

It's been three months since he brought you here. Human pregnancy was so strange. He's seen plenty of pregnant women over his long life, even women impregnated by another demon. But this was his first time actually experiencing it. And he was...excited.

The idea that all your cute little mood swings and curious craving were because of him brought the strangest feeling of pride. He loved seeing your belly growing in order to carry his child. It made you feel so undeniable his. Just seeing you filled him with such unfamiliar feelings. He's never felt this attached to anyone before. Fond, yes. Amused by, yes. But this was the first time he ever wanted someone. He wanted to claim you, to keep you. He wanted you to be his and now you were. Nothing would take you from him.

You were his and he was very much yours. He would give you (almost) anything if you just asked. He was completely at your mercy. He would let you break him apart and put him back together if it made you happy.

He was brought out of his musings by your coughing, signaling the end of your bout of nausea. He cooed comforting words at you, ignoring how you tried to squirm away from him. It didn't matter how much you wanted to get away from him. You will never leave.

He helps you to the sink to wash your mouth before he elects to pick you up. One arm under your legs with the other supporting your back. You put up a small fight, the chain cuffed around your ankle clanking and jingling as you kicked your legs. But even you knew that the fight was futile. Even if you could escape his grasp, you wouldn't really make it anywhere. Not with the chain and not in your condition.

Marzath laid you gently onto the bed, pausing briefly to caress your cheek. "Do you feel better, my dear?" He asked. You didn't even look at him, staying silent and still. He chuckled at your small act of defiance. No matter. Instead he simply moved his hands to the small bump of your stomach that was just starting to grow. Extending just a small bit of his power allowed him to see it. The small barely there glow of his child's soul. It was too early to tell much about it, but feeling it there, just one more bit of proof that you're his, made his chest swell with affection.

He knew how you felt about him, that you hated him, that you wish you never met him, and how you probably hated this child as well. But none of that mattered. Truthfully, he would prefer that you returned his feelings. That you wouldn't flinch or fight or ignore him. But he had you for the rest of eternity and that was all that mattered. Besides, he has all the time in the world to change how you feel. Maybe you'll never love him the way he loves you, but you'll at least learn to enjoy his company. It may take centuries but he was willing to wait. He loved you too much to let you go.

He raised your shirt, paying no attention to the way you tensed at the action. He placed his head atop that little bump, dark hair falling around you, knowing he won't feel or hear a thing but wanting this small intimacy. He felt himself start to purr, deep in his chest.

"I'm sorry that I've been gone these last few days. Some demons simply don't know when to quit so I had to deal with a few pests. I've missed you so much while I was away. Having you in my arms again makes me feel whole again." Several weak demons had been sniffing around his territory, having heard of the pregnant human he had brought back. The fools had planned on getting their hands on you and using you to threaten him. He made sure that they suffered for their ideas.

This closeness to you and the child you both made together made him feel content. It was so rare that he felt that emotion. Powerful demons like him often had very few people they could relax around. Your scent, your voice, your skin. Everything about you made him feel happy and serene. He wanted nothing more than to simply hold in his arms and cherish you forever.

Though he hadn't know it at the time, his first meeting with you had sealed both of your fates. He was obsessed. When he was away from you all he could think of was returning to your side. He wanted to spend every moment with you, showing you the depth of his feelings.

For so long he had been bored. Lacking in something to make eternity worth living. Your very existence changed that. You held his very soul in your hands. And how cruel that you want nothing to do with it.

He began to doze off, something he only began to do when he met you, which signified how at ease you made him feel.

___________________________________

You were in hell. Literally and figuratively. At least you assumed you were physically in hell. You weren't about to ask him. The only time he took you outside of this room was to show you that you weren't in the human world anymore. But right here, right now, this was your own personal hell. Chained to a bed with the chain long enough to move about the room uninhibited but completely unable to leave.

Every second of every day since you woke up here was spent in this room. There was plenty to do. Marzath had been planning this room for you for quite some time and had left you entertainment to keep you busy. There was a TV that you had no idea how it managed to work in this place but it did. There were books and games that changed once you were done and bored of them.

There was an attached kitchen that never seemed to run out of food. It seems Marzath went the distance to make sure you had everything you needed.You were even allowed limited internet access provided Marzath was in the room with you.

The room was luxurious. The bed was large and soft to the touch. The sheets and pillows made of silk. The food was always high quality and delicious. Your clothes were beautiful and comfortable. The bathroom made and filled with every luxury you could want.

But all of that did nothing to change the fact that you couldn't leave. It did nothing to erase the feeling of the chain around your ankle. It did nothing ease the feeling that he was always watching you. And it did nothing to take you away from the reality that you were trapped by a demon and pregnant with his spawn.

'A gilded cage is still just a cage' you thought to yourself. You could still feel Marzath's head pressed against your stomach as you lay there, quiet and unmoving. The feeling of his horns pressed against you had become a familiar sensation. This was far from the first time he had done this and it would be far from the last.

You could feel nothing but disgusted. He had taken you from everything you've ever known and locked you away like a prize. He ignored you how you felt. Touching and holding you when your skin crawled at the feel of his skin against yours. You ignored him at every turn. Never reciprocating his affection. Never giving him any hint that you felt anything but disdain for him. Never even speaking to him if you didn't have to.

You supposed it could be worse. Marzath could be a cruel and mean and violent. But he wasn't. He was kind (as kind as demon could be) and gentle. You hated it. You hated how nice he was to you. You didn't want him to sit by your side and comfort you as you gag into the toilet or sink. You didn't want him messaging your swollen feet and ankles when he noticed them bothering you. And you definitely didn't want him acting so... domestic with you.

He would press his face to your stomach and whisper and purr and act so happy. He would sit next to you while you read or watched TV and try to talk with you. He would hold you while you slept and rub circles on your back when you couldn't fall asleep.

You held on to your anger. Reminded yourself that he tricked you. That he brought you here against your will. But deep down, in the part of your mind that your stubbornly pushed away, denying its existence, you knew. It was only a matter of time before you gave into the sweet words and gestures. But damn it if you wouldn't hold out for as long as you possibly could.

In these moments you could really only think. Think of everything that led to this moment. Every decision, every mistake you made. It was your own fault that you were here, as much as you hated to admit it, even in your own mind. You should have never called upon him. You should have never made a deal with him. You should have simply let go and move on from the past but you didn't and now look at where you are. Trapped, isolated with the crazed demon that took an interest in you and pregnant with that same monster's child. You had no way out.

And now you had an eternity to look forward to.

#yandere #yandere imagine #yandere demon #pregnancy #yandere imagines

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seymour-butz-stuff · 3 years

Link

Earlier this year, we wrote about Rebekah Jones, the data scientist working for Florida, who put together that state's COVID-19 database (that had received widespread praise), and who was fired by the state for her failure to fake the data to make it look like Florida was handling the pandemic better than it actually was. Governor Ron DeSantis had made it clear he wanted data showing good results in order to justify reopening the state.

As Jones herself explained after being fired:

I was asked by DOH leadership to manually change numbers. This was a week before the reopening plan officially kicked off into phase one. I was asked to do the analysis and present the findings about which counties met the criteria for reopening. The criteria followed more or less the White House panel's recommendations, but our epidemiology team also contributed to that as well. As soon as I presented the results, they were essentially the opposite of what they had anticipated. The whole day while we're having this kind of back and forth changing this, not showing that, the plan was being printed and stapled right in front of me. So it was very clear at that point that the science behind the supposedly science-driven plan didn't matter because the plan was already made.

Since then, Jones has been running Florida COVID Action, which is a dashboard of Florida COVID information, like the one she used to run for the state.

And apparently Florida's Governor Ron DeSantis couldn't allow that to stand. This afternoon Rebekah posted a short Twitter thread, with video, showing Florida state police raiding her home. As she notes, when they asked her who else was in the home, she told them that her husband and children were upstairs, and they pulled out their guns:

https://twitter.com/GeoRebekah/status/1336065787900145665

This is horrifying on so many levels. Why was her home raided? Why did they pull out guns? Why did they do it after she told them that it was her children upstairs? Why did they seize all of her electronics equipment? Why are they doing any of this?

Jones has been doing everything to better inform the public of what's happening in the middle of a pandemic, and this is the thanks she gets? Having her home raided by the police and having guns drawn on her children?

This is not supposed to happen. This should not happen. It is horrifying and I hope that Jones is able to retain powerful legal help to fight back against this clear violation of her civil liberties, and a clear authoritarian overreach by Governor DeSantis.

Update: Since the original story broke, Florida state police claim that the search warrant was in response to someone breaching an emergency alert system and sending a group text saying: "It's time to speak up before another 17,000 people are dead. You know this is wrong. You don't have to be a part of this. Be a hero. Speak out before it's too late." The warrant claims that the breach was tied to an IP address at Jones' house. Jones has vehemently denied she had anything to do with this:

"I'm not a hacker," Jones said. She added that the language in the message that authorities said was sent was "not the way I talk," and contained errors she would not make.

"The number of deaths that the person used wasn't even right," Jones said. "They were actually under by about 430 deaths. I would never round down 430 deaths."

Later in the evening, the full search warrant was published, and it raise serious questions... not about Jones, as much as what the fuck Florida's Dept. of Health is doing with its communications systems. The service that Jones is accused of using involves a shared password among a ton of people:

On November 10, 2020, at approximately 1420 hours and 1442 hours, an unidentified subject gained access to a mull—user account group StatoESF— 8 Planning" and sent a group text stating the following: "it's time to speak up before another 17,000 people are dead. You know this is wrong. You don't have to be part of this. Be a here, Speak out before it's too late— From StateESF8 Planning". FDOH estimates that approximately 1,750 messages were delivered before the software vendor was able to stop the message from being transmitted.

FDOH has several groups within ReadyOp's application platform, one of which is StateESF8.Planning. ESF8 is Florida's Emergency Support Function for Public Health and Medical with which they coordinate the state‘s health and medical resources, capabilities, and capacities. They also provide the means for a public health response, triage, treatment, and transportation. The group StateESF8.Planning is utilized by multiple users, some of which are not employees of FDOH but are employees of other government agencies. Once they are no longer associated with ESF8 they are no longer authorized to access the multi—user group.

All users assigned to StateESF8.Planning group share the same username and password. SA Pratts requested and received a copy of the technical logs containing the Internet Protocol (IP) address for users accessing the ReadyOp web—based platform for the multi—user StateESF. Planning.

As security pro Jake Williams notes, it is bizarre beyond belief that (1) you have an important system relying on a single shared username and password and that such login info is not changed after someone is fired:

https://twitter.com/MalwareJake/status/1336147824967376899

Still, it sounds like we may end up seeing a classic CFAA-style case here, regarding "unauthorized access." Unfortunately, there are some cases on the books where logging into a system where you had a password after you've been instructed not to do so any more means you've violated the CFAA. This is kind of stupid, because it should be on the organization itself to actually change the password, rather than putting the burden on the user... but if there's real evidence here that she did access the system, she could be in serious CFAA trouble.

Even so, that's no excuse for raiding her home with guns drawn.

Can we trade Florida for Puerto Rico?

#2 #trump #maga #trump derangement syndrome #q #qanon #wwg1wga

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guerilla935 · 4 years

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My Favorite Games That Made Me Care About How I Looked

I’m very self conscious about the way I look in video games. Not only is it normally very easy to change an outfit or get a haircut in a video game it also says something about how I’d like to be perceived, especially in an online game. There are a lot of games that allow their players to express themselves in a lot of really fun and unique ways and I think that it’s really special when you get to celebrate a style that you would never get to portray in real life. These games that I am about to talk about are all games where I was able to look at my character and feel some ounce of pride at something that I had created. Some full disclosure for these images, I pulled them from official gaming outlets and developer blogs but none of these that you are seeing are my original characters. If anyone would like to request to see any of my characters from these games (or any other games!) I would be happy to go and grab screenshots of those characters.

Grand Theft Auto Online

This is a pretty easy choice for most people. I chose specifically GTA Online over any GTA game or Red Dead game because I think the really special part about this is its setting. Your image is not only your character and your outfit in GTA Online but also your car, your house, and your business. There are a lot of different places to choose to call home and there are a lot of things to get “invested” into. For example, my good friend mojo5 runs a night club and wears suits and spends a lot of time gambling at the casino. That’s a character that would be different than mine who dresses and acts like a street racer. It gives your character a kind of personality and back story that is hard to achieve in other games. I have always kind of considered Grand Theft Auto Online to be a modern MMO of sorts, a playground. And as much as it is a huge lobby where you wait to start activities, it is also a sprawling city-space where you can essential live, make money, create this fun fictional life for yourself. And as far as fashion goes, the outfits, the cars, and the real estate help you shape that fantasy. Basically, I can tell you that I spent way more time customizing my character than I spent in actual activities in Grand Theft Auto Online.

Saint’s Row Series

I love Saint’s Row. It is very similar to the last entry in this article but has this unique and goofy style that makes a lot of things okay that I would never do to my GTA character. In Saint’s Row I can have a neon blue Mohawk wielding a 10 foot melee weapon that is designed to look like something extremely unmentionable while driving a night rider space car that is also a tank and it’s totally fine because in the next cut scene you are about to fight Roddy Piper in Keith Davids nightmares. The games are incredibly wild and I love how I can let loose with a lot of different styles, and in the same way that I feel like I am creating my gritty street racer in GTA, I can make my goofy crime lord super hero secret agent in Saint’s Row. I think specifically in Saint’s Row 2 I took it a little more seriously because the tone of the game is a little more serious than the other entries however I have a specially place in my heart for how wacky each game allows me to be.

Animal Crossing: New Horizons

You knew we couldn’t just not talk about Animal Crossing: New Horizons. With the current situation, the Animal Crossing community is insanely huge. I cannot avoid the heap of Animal Crossing videos and screenshots all over social media. On my island of Sandover Village, I am patiently awaiting the Able Sisters to set up shop so that I am able to put in codes from everyone else’s custom designs that I’m seeing on twitter. That is because I have on my phone a stockpile of sweatshirts, sweaters, robes, and hats that I am actually really excited to show off in game. I tried to create some of my own but I am not one of the gifted seamstress’s that there seems to exist on the internet. I am not very far into Animal Crossing but by looking at other peoples games I know that I have only scratched the surface of my options in the game. I have to commend Nintendo on the amount of individualization that the design pro feature gives to its players. I have never seen a game give players the option to design their own clothing and it makes the social experience of the game feel so fresh.

Dark Souls III

One of the most badass games that I have ever played as far as character design is concerned is Dark Souls III. When I put on a new set of armor I sit in awe of how it looks because I can see each tiny tear in the cape, every dent in the helmet, and the wear and weight of the armor. I was dragged through this game by some friends (because I could never in a thousand years have the patience to beat it by myself) and I followed them to every cursed swamp and death crypt because I wanted to see every weapon and every armor set. You look absolutely ghoulish in every armor set and I love it to death. This game allows so much in the way of customization and I think it helps that almost every gear set is good enough to get you through the entire game and that allows you to play with a lot of different looks and game play styles. This game is tough, really really tough, but you look really good even when you die.

Splatoon 2

Splatoon 2 is a really special online shooter. I think in the month that I played this game religiously the thing that kept me playing was coming back to the stores to see what kind of clothes were in stock and what kind of items I could steal off the players in the lobby. I think that the developers of Splatoon 2 knew that the players were in it for the threads because every reward for playing the game was most likely a piece of clothing. The clothing options kind of vary from academy prep to Patagonia camp wear to skater outfits. And it comes together in this very hipster overall aesthetic that blends really naturally. The game features a mechanic that I really like wear you can walk up to anyone in the online lobby and look at what their wearing and order it. By the time I logged on the next day I had (a noticeably weaker version of) the exact same item but it really makes you feel like anything you see, you have access too which is really cool. And the ordering of the items kept me coming back to play every day.

Final Fantasy XIV Online

I’ve heard it said many times that the real end game content of Final Fantasy XIV Online was the glamor and housing systems, and for most people they aren’t wrong. I will never stop being surprised at the outfits that players can put together in this game. I have seen millions of players in my 750 hours in Eorzea and I have not seen two characters look the same. The customization options are really limitless and I truly believe that. I played a healer mage and in my time at max level I had outfits that made me look like a cowboy, a thief, a fox spirit, a grim reaper, and even one that made me appear like a real healer mage. The clothing options throw a Final Fantasy twist on every kind of style that they set to replicate. So even though all the outfits can be wacky they never feel out of place in the world. If you want a game that you can make almost 50% just about customizing your character and taking it out to the town to show it off or in big raids to flaunt your style then this might be your game.

Pokemon Sword And Shield

Pokemon is still trying to get it right but Sword and Shield is Game Freaks best attempt at trainer customization. The clothing options in the game are very European, well, they have always been that way but they are ESPECIALLY European in this one. Probably the greatest customization offered is the hair which in the world of anime characters is the most important one. I loved designing my character in this game but it was just so brief because shopping in this game is so boring as most clothes in the actual stores are very samey which makes the act of shopping pretty boring most of the time. I would roll up to a new town really excited to see what kind of stuff they had in the shop but it was just new colors for the same weird duffel bag that your character had already. Note that the game is mostly about the Pokemon so they really didn’t have to put any trainer customization in the game to make it a good game but they did a half decent job putting this much customization in the game and I feel like it’s going to keep getting steadily better the more times they implement this feature into their games. Big plus, you can design your trading card in the game and it is the most adorable thing and feels like a huge payoff to have a cool card if you’ve put a lot of effort into your trainer.

Soul Calibur VI

So I haven’t actually played Soul Calibur VI, I bought the game and went immediately into character creation and started making my own roster of fighters that I ended up using maybe once or twice and moving on from. The character creator in this fighting game is really special. So the idea is that you choose a character that already exists and you keep their move set and fighting style but change how they look and immediately the things that came out of the community were hilarious. Some are kind of terrifying but they come shockingly close to being somewhat recognizable. For me it almost comes down to that being someone who is unfamiliar with the cast of Soul Calibur VI I cannot tell the difference between actual characters from the game and characters frakensteined together in the character creator. As on of the most fun character creators I’ve ever used I think it’s at least worth googling what other people have created.

God of War (2018)

The newest God of War introduced something that we never got in the older games and that was the ability to change out what Kratos was wearing. While it was important in the game to maximize his stats, it also made you look cooler and cooler as the game went on. I wouldn’t say that you have a lot of options of things to wear in this game but I always felt bummed when I picked up something with relatively low stats that looked amazing. Later on the armor sets become more like trophies for completing hard tasks. The design of each piece of armor is really intricate and amazing to look at and while you can’t just pick whatever you want, I really wish that you could.

Diablo III: Reaper of Souls

In the Reaper of Souls expansion pack a new vendor was added to Diablo III that changed the way that I looted in the game. The vendor was called the mystic and she would make a piece of gear look like any other piece of gear of the same type. This meant that I could look amazing all the time without sacrificing strength. The way that the database of appearances you could pick from expands over time gave so many options that I couldn’t decide at some points. The coolest armor in the game was now accessible at any time. And the armor in Diablo III looks tight, sometimes I would argue that unless you pick some unique stuff it doesn’t make that big of a difference because of the isometric point of view in the game but it is really fun to have an added layer of customization in Diablo.

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

So this is actually a section dedicated to Nexus Mod Manager because Skyrim in itself doesn’t actually have a whole lot of variations in the ways you can dress. But with the powers of modding you can now do absolutely anything and there are a whole group of 3D modelers out there getting you immersive and lore friendly items that make you look a whole lot cooler. The wonderful world of modding can turn kind of creepy very fast, a lot of very suggestive mods are out there and a lot of very inappropriate things so you know, a fair warning. It’s incredible when you can make it work and keep it from getting to the level of ultimate Skyrim. You can change and add clothes and weapons, add hair styles, and even add entire races into the game. Sometimes though I really believe that I like browsing mods a lot more than I like actually playing with them but I found that it is really satisfying to download a mod like Immersive Armors and see just how much it changes how diverse the selection of armors that not only you but everyone in the game now wears can be.

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

So I believe that some other previous Zelda titles had the ability to change Links outfit but never to this extent. What I think is the coolest part about the clothing system in this game is that you wear certain clothes to survive certain climates but you can also forget all that and make a yummy meal instead that lets you be warm wearing the desert clothes in the snow. The amount of armors that you can amass in this game starts off kind of underwhelming but becomes really fun and interesting and serves all sorts of fun fan service for fans of the series. This game doesn’t have the versatility and variety of some of the other games in the series but any game that lets you cross dress to sneak into a city of warrior women is credited for its costume design in my book.

League of Legends

I have spent a shameful amount of money on skins. I hate League of Legends and I hate most of the business practices of Riot Games but their skins just look good. I can appreciate when someone I don’t like makes something good and they consistently pump out awesome looking skins that are frankly worth the money if you play the game regularly. Back when I played this game daily I put up way too much money, even I think about 18$ just on a skin that changed colors when you typed a specific command. Anyways that’s really all I have, there aren’t a lot of games where I like the skins, especially the fact that they are mostly behind pay walls but League gets a pass I suppose.

Destiny Series

I used to be really into playing a specific game mode in Destiny named Iron Banner. I played a lot of it in Destiny and a good portion of them in Destiny 2. When you played enough Iron Banner in a year you were able to collect an armor set to commemorate the achievement. Almost all the cool armor in Destiny has purpose to it. Not only do you get to decide how you look but it also is you showing off the fact that you completed a raid, were really good at sparrow racing, or kicked major ass in the crucible. Each armor was recognizable and everyone knew what it meant. I think that is what makes the customization in Destiny so rewarding, its that it is in itself an actual reward for completing hard tasks that not everyone will be able to complete.

Code Vein

Out of all the anime games I’ve played I think what stands out to me the most is that their character creators have all been really bad. This is where Code Vein really shined. Code Vein has this dystopian vampire aesthetic that is really unique and allows for a lot of ways to make cool characters that fit into the look of the game. I don’t think that what they’ve done here is completely new but they have this style that is exciting to play with. Making a revenant is fun and builds this anticipation for the rest of the game. I also respect the games decision to allow you to make modifications to your character after the game has started which is not something that most games would allow. Code Vein has these cape’s that you can wear to gain abilities and those are cool to add onto your outfit but I don’t think that it outshines what the character creator has done here. It’s a niche thing I guess but if you have always wanted to make your own anime vampire then this is it.

A Persona

I really like making characters for a reason. I think a lot of the escapism of video games hinges on me placing myself into the character on the screen. That’s why I love what you can do in games like Animal Crossing that is all about creating exactly what you want and Final Fantasy XIV Online where you get to exist and share in a world as a persona of sorts. Being able to customize a character in a video game does not make that game good or bad, but I think that when you are given the option the developer is given an opportunity to make it a very special experience and allow you to be unique within a community of people online. And the internet has made that sharing of characters really special, allowing everyone to see how unique of an experience you can have with a game by beating it with “your character”.

Special Shout Outs For Stylish Games And Characters

SSX series being dripping in 90s style

Also NBA Street Vol. 2 for the same reason

Persona 5 for being the most stylish game ever

Halo because space marines rock extra style points

Katana Zero for being badass and 80s neon will always be in style

Specifically Graffiti Mario in Super Mario Sunshine he had flair

Samurai Legend Musashi for having a stylish game case but being a horrible game

Devil May Cry just for existing

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imhereforbvcky · 5 years

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Sweet

Summary: (Natasha x shy!reader) Your old friend Sam recruits your help for a low-key work party, ya know, at the Avengers Compound. Of course you’re the type of soft-hearted civvie that could fall head over heels for a particular red-headed assassin while you’re there.

Prompt/Request: This is not exactly the silly drunken interaction @whyhello-there requested… There are drinks and it’s lighthearted, but it’s more a bunch of sober spies being cute than it is drunk shenanigans.

Warnings: A little swearing, FLUFF

Word Count: 2518

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m here?”

Apprehension rippled through your voice like a current. You’d known Sam Wilson forever. Friends like him didn’t come around every lifetime. Refusal wasn’t even in your vocabulary when he invited you to a work party, but now… Well now, you were nervous.

“It’s just a barbecue.” He gave you that look, the one that’s half a smile and half an exasperated frown. It was the one he gave every time you worried too much. “No one’s makin’ you stay if you don’t have fun.”

“But you are makin’ me go even though I’m nervous,” you smirked, nudging his side with your elbow.

He chuckled, warm and infectious. “And you’ll be glad I did. Trust me.”

“I do,” you grumbled as he shoved the massive tray of food into your arms.

While Tony would be spinning up cocktails, tossing (and dropping) bottles of scotch, Clint planned to grill farm fresh chicken, and Wanda had already set to work stringing up lights and setting out vases of flowers with feather-soft petals. Sam, with a little help from a friend, covered the sides.

As a man of easy smiles and affectionate banter, the list of things Sam Wilson took seriously was not a huge one. But good food? Top of the list.

Your mouth watered just looking at the bright yellow corn on the cob, waiting to be slathered in creamy cheese sauce and a hint of cayenne. The tangy pineapple slices would sweeten with a few minutes on the grill. You’d helped Sam fill jalapenos with cheese before wrapping them in bacon. The peach halves were the hardest to resist, but you couldn’t wait for Sam to serve them up grilled with thin strips of basil and a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

His was a tall order with such an unusual crowd, but on the bright side, it meant that today, he needed a hand. It meant you would meet your heroes. Everybody’s heroes. Real life, living breathing heroes. The Avengers.

Sam placed his palm on the biometric scanner and the panel came to life. After a few chirps from the machine, he pulled the door open and held it for you. The room looked like something out of Architecture Digest. Wide and open, concrete and glass stretched in every direction. The enormous retro furniture seemed lived in and relaxing. The space was austere but you immediately wanted to stretch out and nap in the sunlight pouring through the floor to ceiling windows.

“Woah,” you breathed, mouth still agape.

Lights ticked on as you moved through the space and powered down as you left. There were no clumsy TV remotes on coffee tables, no unsightly cables. It was all efficient, energy saving, and bright.

It absolutely screamed Tony Stark.

“C’mon,” Sam encouraged, taking the tray of food off your flagging hands. “Party’s out back.”

Feeling more out of place by the second, you followed close at his heels. The glass walls extended in every direction, like a thin skin wrapping around the entire building. It reminded you of a snow globe, holding a whole world safe within.

Except for here, at the entrance to the party. Here, the panels had been pushed to the side, like the wall itself had opened up. It felt like standing in the mouth of a great concrete cave, waiting to step into the sunlight of another reality.

It was a different world in more than just appearance. The Avengers lived a life you could only guess at. You watched them through the looking glass, through the lens of television and internet media. Apart from Sam, they were practically a work of fiction to you. Now they were a mere step away.

“Who’s your friend?” The voice drew your attention immediately. Smooth as silk, somehow low and vibrant all at once. The question was for Sam, but it had been aimed in your direction. She was staring at you, smiling, but sharp green eyes roved over every detail. You could feel it like the heat of the sun piercing through a cloud.

Sam called your name and you blinked quickly out of your reverie.

“Quit hiding in the shadows and gimme a hand!” he hollered from half way across the courtyard. He hadn’t stopped at the precipice as you had. He’d crossed it easily because this world of legends was his own.

You nodded, tried to laugh away your silliness, your anxiety, and stepped into the sun. The pair of you set to work about the food like clockwork. While you began unwrapping the corn, Sam had turned aside to light and oil the grill.

When you looked up she was standing there. The one from before. The one you were sure was some sort of enchantress, because once again your tongue stilled and you couldn’t drag your eyes away. Hell, you could barely breathe. Wasn’t breathing supposed to be involuntary?

She smiled again and this time it was warmer, her eyes were softer as she watched you for a moment before they flickered to the tray in front of you. You, however, couldn’t look away from her face long enough to see her reach for one of the peach slices.

“Uht-uh! You better not!” Sam scolded from your side as he returned from the grill for the corn.

She laughed and held up her hands in surrender.

“Some spy,” he teased her with a wink before turning back to the grill.

“I almost lost a finger trying to snag one earlier,” you admitted, surprised at your own voice.

“I think he’s hangry.” She said it loud enough for you to know it was more for Sam’s benefit. She was good at that. Saying things without really saying them at all. She could mold and move a conversation in the subtlest ways. You could see immediately why she was so good at her job.

“No, you deserved it,” Sam complained. “You both know there’s snitchin’ in my kitchen.”

She smiled at you and rolled her eyes. You felt that heat again as they slid back to you, skimming over your figure, a little more slowly this time. A little less sharp and a little more intrigued.

It seemed desperately far away when you heard Sam introduce you, give your name. “She’s an old friend,” he said. Next he pointed with his tongs to the woman whose gaze remained steady as ever on you. You hadn’t dared to even swallow. “And this is—“

“I know,” you blurted. The tension in your gut had simmered to a rippling boil and burst out of you with nervous energy. “I-I know who you are.”

She never faltered, but you noticed her posture stiffen slightly, and she gave the tiniest nod. The sun glinted in her red hair when she did, a shimmer of copper light was all that gave the motion away.

“But now that I’m talking, I’ve realized I should have just kept my mouth shut because I have no idea what to call you,” you laughed, tight and uncertain.

Her lips flinched, it was the only notice that she’d even heard you. If you weren’t so anxious, so instantly head over heels, you’d have recognized it for what it was: she was stifling a laugh, and only just managing it.

“And god, you are so impressive. I knew you were beautiful from TV and everything but I-I’m… oh my god I need to stop talking!” You looked over at Sam for help. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye with raised eyebrows and a laugh ready to erupt. But he offered no lifeline.

You jumped when warm soft hands closed around one of your own. Hers. Gentle and adept, soft. Skilled hands, not workman’s hands.

“I’m Natalia.” That damn smile again and you were lost. “But friends call me Natasha.” You nodded. “Good friends call me Nat.”

“And what should I--?”

“Hey Nat! You’re up!” Clint called from the other side of the open courtyard.

She looked over her shoulder and nodded.

“Hey, Happy Feet! You want in?” Tony called to Sam, holding up a handful of darts beside Barton. “I need a partner.”

“Penguins don’t even fly, Tony,” Rhodes lamented from the pool.

Sam tipped his beer bottle towards Rhodes in agreement, before glancing at you and Natasha, a sly grin drawing out the dimples in his cheeks. “I’ve got my hands full with these jalapeno poppers, but uh… you get my buddy here a drink and I bet she’ll play.”

“Okay, dear, we are down by a metric fuckton and I have a lot riding on this game,” Tony explained by way of pep talk. The world’s worst pep talk. “So if you could maybe make a bullseye on this shot, and save my dignity, I would be forever in your debt.”

“Tony,” Natasha drawled, half a reprimand. “You’re scaring her.”

“I-no. No pressure,” he smiled, laughing now as he threw an arm over your shoulder. You knew he was kidding. Mostly. “But don’t embarrass me in front of the super spies.”

With a sip of your drink for courage, and a deep breath for focus, you stepped up to the line and made aim.

It was the worst shot of your life.

The dart didn’t even make the board. It clattered off the concrete behind the target and sunk into the dirt. The little red tip waved up at you derisively.

Tony sighed and Clint whooped. You heard none of it because Natasha’s hand had begun to slide down your arm and wrap around your own.

“Damn it!” Tony cursed.

“Loser makes the next round,” Natasha explained beside you, tipping her empty glass. She said it so softly you knew without turning your head that she must be close, coiling around you and humming into the shell of your ear. You wanted to curl up against the warmth of her body, now pressed against your arm. “C’mon I’ll help you carry them.”

“Bet’s a bet, man!” Clint prodded behind you as you walked toward the bar.

“FRIDAY?” Tony called with the distinctive groan of defeat.

“Yes, Boss?”

“Change all my access codes to Tony Stank.”

Natasha laughed and glanced over her shoulder, allowing herself a moment to revel in her victory. It was a light breeze on your shoulder, a kiss of her warm breath as she turned her head. Her smile beamed buoyant and luminous. All the sharp edges chased away by the light of idle and pleasant company. Of trust and love. Family.

You’d always loved and been drawn to people who laughed easily, like Sam. But you’d never quite appreciated it like this. To hear it so freely given from someone so noticeably cautious with their everything, was truly captivating. You regarded it like a gift, a treasure, a breakable crown laid in your hands. You wouldn’t waste it or break it.

“So what will you make us?” she asked.

You hadn’t even noticed you’d reached the bar already.

“Uhm. I could make something with peaches?” you suggested, remembering.

“Sounds sweet.” Her eyebrow perked up and she leaned forward on her elbow, watching with mild interest as you got to work. “Are you as good with those ingredients as Sam?”

The laugh came at once. It was loud and mortifying before you quickly covered your mouth, eyes wide. She seemed to enjoy it though. She laughed with you; another gift.

You’d already lost count of how many ounces of vodka you’d poured into one of the glasses. So, no. Definitely not as good as Sam.

“No,” you finally managed. “Not even close. But I can follow direction.”

“So you’re sweet too,” she mused, eyes locked on her fingertips fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

She never touched you, never moved an inch closer, but you could feel the want of it like a match held an inch away from your skin. Like a heat arcing from her skin to yours. Instead she waited, measuring the breaths before you took half a step closer. And another, until you were close enough that her knuckles brushed against the smooth skin of your thigh.

“Am I?” you asked, hardly more than a whisper. It was a nonsensical question, but the sensible part of your brain had short-circuited the moment you felt her sun-warmed skin.

She nodded, slow and easy. The pads of her fingers traced the edge of your jaw. “You’re soft,” she murmured with a lazy smile.

“So are you,” you muttered, abandoning the vodka to entangle your fingers with hers, the ones that had stilled on the hem of your skirt.

A small non-committal laugh passed her lips. Softness was not a word often used to describe the Black Widow. At least, not in the way she had adorned you with it.

Instead of arguing this, she focused on the ways you were soft: soft skin beneath her palm, soft breath tickling her lips, soft nervous smiles, timid and kind. Natasha liked soft things. They were rare in her world and all the more beautiful for it.

Your eyes fluttered closed the moment she began to lean forward. Her kiss was soft and warm. Lips gently molded against yours, first your upper lip, twice, then the bottom. She didn’t probe or push, and neither did you. There was no expectation or demand, only an indefinable want simmering beneath your skin and a slow quiet affinity glowing in your eyes and hers.

“Gentle things are scarce around here,” she murmured, tracing your lips with her thumb. “I hope you won’t be, милая.”

The bright green trees and lush rolling hills of upstate New York passed by the window in a blur. It wasn’t quite regret that tugged at your spine, wound around your gut and squeezed your lungs until you heaved a long, deep sigh. No, not regret at all.

It was a longing, a sentimentality for something you’d only known for a brief moment. You shook your head and chuckled at yourself, at your own absurdity. How could one be sentimental for a time only just passed?

Sam glanced over at you from the driver’s side, fully aware that you hadn’t heard a word he’d said for the past twenty minutes. You’d walked out of that compound with stars in your eyes, and now you were giggling at nothing.

“So then I rode a hippo up Mount Everest and discovered there’s a cave up there with a cyclops named Hank. Hank makes a mean margarita.”

“Hmm sounds good,” you agreed absently. You probably would have agreed to anything. Probably already had. “Hey Sam-I-am?”

“What?” He glanced over at you with a warm grin. You always loved the way the apples of his cheeks swelled and his eyes shone when he was holding back a laugh. A real friend could make you laugh with just a look.

Or a word. And boy, did Sam laugh when you spoke next.

“I think I’m in love.”

“Only someone as soft as you could fall so hard, so fast.”

Will reblog with tags shortly.

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader fluff #black widow x reader #black widow x reader fluff #natasha fanfic #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow fanfic #shy reader #natasha x shy!reader

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cupidsmusings · 4 years

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The Chained Goddess

Description: Eisuke Ichinomiya had it all. Money, power, and looks. He wanted for not. Some wondered how he did it. How was he able to accomplish so much at such a young age? Rumors that were joked amongst some of the wealthy individuals that knew him were that he sold his soul to the devil. They were almost correct in that aspect. It was not a devil he sold his soul to. He hadn’t even sold his soul to anyone. He was just lucky enough to find a rumored vase and rich enough to purchase it.

Rating: PG-13

Series: The Chained Goddess

Chapter 2: While the Master’s away the Goddess will play.

Couple: Reader insert, but unsure who the love interest is yet

Author’s note: Due to future chapters, most of them will become R rated for NSFW content. For now, though it’ll continue to be PG-13 ^^

A giggle here and a small inquiry there, she traveled through what was a new world to her with eyes alight with wonder. Women were permitted to higher learning, which had been rare, almost unheard of before she was trapped inside the vase. She was still unused to how they wore such revealing clothing. And there was no odor on anyone. It was as if they were all rich enough to acquire expensive oils to mask their stench.

“Hey, Eisuke,” she whispered as she hovered behind him. “When did women start to get an education? It seems that a decision was made while I was imprisoned that allowed women to attend to their schooling like men.”

“Usually only wealthy women could get an education at first, as I’m sure you’re aware. Or were you trapped even before then?” He waited to respond to her when he pulled out his cell phone, an interesting device that one, too bad he wouldn’t let her hold it. Something about “not trusting her”. When she shook her head he continued. “Well as time passed countries allowed more and more women to attend university. Now it’s the norm for that to happen.”

“Interesting….Interesting.” She nodded her head, her eyes honing in on the phone pressed against his ear. “What are the subjects they teach now in… University.” What an odd word. University. To be honest, she could care less about the subjects, but it was best to keep him talking so she could snag his phone from him while he was too preoccupied talking to her.

As he talked she made hums to let him know she was listening. All the while she floated from his left side to his right so she could grasp the phone with ease. Her fingers inched forward and right when she was about to graze the pretty piece of technology the contraption was pulled away from his ear and hidden in his jacket pocket. As she stewed to herself she paid little attention to who Eisuke was talking to. She wasn’t asking for much. She merely wanted to observe it. Wanted to call someone. Wanted to send someone a text. Wanted to play with it.

“Oh really. Thank you.” Eisuke laughed.

That was when she removed herself from her sulking state and floated around the girl that was talking to Eisuke so she could get a better look at him. He was also smiling. Ew. Forced smiles were so boring. She floated back over to Eisuke and sat on his right shoulder.

“Your smile is not reaching your eyes. It is very creepy.” She said and laid her chest across the crown of his head in an overdramatized fashion. “Try thinking of something that actually makes you happy. Your smile will not appear so creepy then.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I have a class to get to.” He excused himself with a politeness that was dripping with borderline annoyance.

The girl seemed not to notice and just gave him a charming smile before she walked in the opposite direction.

“Your input isn’t needed.” He almost growled. “A servant shouldn’t speak to their master that way anyways.”

“I thought I was your assistant?” She asked and floated in front of him.

Her legs reached towards the sky and her head dangled upside down in front of his own.

“You don’t seem to have the discipline to be an assistant. You’re actually no better than an untrained dog.” He scoffed as he began to walk up the steps to the building his next class was in.

“I feel as if you are trying to insult me.” She mused allowed.

Was he insulting her just because she pointed out a flaw? Oh was this a masculine pride type of scenario. She had dealt with that before. Many of the gods were prideful beings after all.

“My apologies, master. I did not mean to upset you, master.” She said and straighten her body to right-side-up.

Was that a good enough of an apology? Sometimes it took more for a god to forgive her, but gods were known to be more prideful than humans.

“I can’t tell whether you’re mocking me or not.”

“I am being genuine.”

“And here I thought a goddess would be more prideful.”

“An assistant, oh I am sorry, a servant, does not have the right to be prideful.”

He squinted at her then and studied her. Which was honestly odd because this was the first time he’d ever done so. One would think he would have begun his studying of her when she was freed from the vase.

“I don’t think you’re mocking me, but I also don’t think you’re taking the entire thing seriously.” He sighed and climbed even more stairs that would take him to the third floor of the building.

“Oh, I am not.” She told him flagrantly and flew to the top of the stairs. “I just thought it would be best to quell your male pride. I am very aware of how much pride means to a male.”

“You’re actually very rude, you know that.” He told her as he brushed passed her.

Well, brushed through her was more like it. While she was in this form she was more so a ghost than a living being.

“Rude may be I, but you are a man that would throw me away if given a better deal.” She hummed as she floated after him and oh my, the smirk he sent her way sent a thrilling jolt through her body. Her tongue swiped at her bottom lip as she felt her heart pulse in suspense.

“What could be better than a genie in a bottle?” He asked her, his voice low and husky.

“Why I do not believe there is anything more fruitful for a human to obtain.” She responded with her own little smile that spoke of her amusement.

He continued to smirk at her, but his was far more wicked than her own.

It was later that night when she found herself alone in the apartment she’d have to learn to call her own. She wanted to join Eisuke on his little outing but he had refused and ordered her to remain home. Well, technically he said in a stern voice that she must, “Remain here and don’t even think of following me.” What a rude human! Like she wanted to follow him anyways.

She flipped over from her stomach and onto her back so the ceiling could be the recipient of her annoyed glare. He was amusing sure, but he thought himself so important. It wasn’t that she wanted to follow him but that she wanted to further explore the new world which she had missed grow to such a modern society. She positioned herself so her head hung over the side of the bed. Her gaze now glued to the vase that was placed on a dresser. The thought of seeing the magical chain caused the golden energy to form. Another chain formed on her wrist and outstretched across the room, through the wall to ceiling window and outside to the city below. He was out there, her master, having so much fun while she lay there bored.

“He never ordered me to remain still like some doll.” She declared as she shot up into a sitting position.

He may have ordered her to stay there but he never told her that she couldn’t do what she wished while inside. Mischief danced across her irises as she got her to her feet. What could she do that would cause him turmoil? His face was very endearing when he was glaring in irritation. A shiver skittered down her spine and her insides quivered with an unknown emotion.

With pep in her step, she exited the room and entered his office so she could get a hold of the computer, a device Eisuke had never given her permission to use but never ordered her to reframe from touching it. She took a sit in the wing-back chair and had a little fun spinning herself around and around and around and around. Around she went, laughing joyously to herself, that was until she found herself too dizzy to perform the act anymore.

“What a fun piece of furniture.” She mused aloud to herself as she focused her gaze to steady.

The room no longer tilting this way and that, she focused on typing in the password that would gain her access to all the delicious fun she would be able to give herself. With honing her godly powers onto knowing the password, she was successful in typing it incorrectly her first try. She had never taken note of how Eisuke was able to use the thing, but how hard could a small electric box be?

Not very hard, actually. With just a few random clicks she was able to make it onto what must have been the InterWeb. She was originally going to browse the internet without any clear motive until she found something interesting. It was an advertisement, with words scrawled across it in pretty pink letters, “Looking for fun? Why not give us a call and let us have fun with you”. Oh? She let her head lull to the side as she contemplated the intriguing invitation. Entertainers were just what she needed. It would also be best if they stayed late enough for Eisuke to walk in on them all having fun.

She dialed the number that was written across the add and when a voice sounded from the receiver she almost leapt out of the chair. It would indeed take some getting used to such a device.

“Hello, I would like to request some people from your establishment.” She was direct and to the point and waited with excitement as they asked her how many she wished to join her in her night of fun. “Three is fine.”

When the call ended she shot up from the chair and glided to the front entrance. What kind of games would they play? Hide-n-seek was a rather fun one she enjoyed playing with her father. She let her gaze roam over the apartment in her mind’s eye and it was large enough for such a game. Perhaps the human race had invented other such fun games? If so she couldn’t wait to try them.

As she stood in the corridor pondering what games had been invented since her imprisonment a loud ring broke her from her thoughts. They had arrived! She made sure to have her feet firmly planted on the floor. It wouldn’t do if they all left once seeing a bizarre woman floating above them. No indeed. She skipped to the front door and opened it up with a charming smiling.

“Good evening!” She smiled as she ushered them inside.

“It is my first time using such a service so I am not privy to what we should do. I was thinking perhaps we could play a game of hide-n-seek until we can think of another game that would be more fun.” She told them as she showed them to the living room. She gasped as a thought raced across her mind and she clasped her hands together in excitement. “The winner could pick the next game, yes? A little competition is good for such games!”

Now she truly was excited! It had probably been centuries since she played such games. She wouldn’t even use her powers and would play like a genuine human. It wasn’t even much of a challenge to her. She was amazing at hiding. Her father was never able to find her and he was King of the Heavens!

“Hide-n-seek?” One asked.

He was the tallest of the three, but not the most well-built. The most well-built was probably the shortest of the three. The one with the best face was the man of average height.

“Yes!” She nodded enthusiastically.

“I don’t think she knows what the advertisement was really for,” Small-guy stated and looked at the other two with a look of amusement but a hint of exasperation flashed across his eyes before he looked to her. “Did you think the advertisement meant that we would actually be playing board games together?”

“Board games?” She mumbled and tilted her head to the side, her lips pursed. “Never heard of such things before. Are they fun?”

“You’ve never played a board game?” Average-guy asked, dumbstruck.

“I do not believe that I have.”

The three looked to one another, all perplexed. Was it really strange that she had never played a board game? These board games sure must have been a favourite amongst humans.

“Let us play hide-n-seek first!” She declared. “The winner can decide what game to play next. If any of you wish to play a board game you may suggest it then. But how to decide who is the seeker?”

Her eyebrows furrowed in thought as she looked to the three men in front of her.

“I’ll be it…. I guess.” Tall-guy stated rather awkwardly.

What an adorable human.

“Any room in the apartment not up for grabs?” Short-guy asked as he cracked his knuckles.

“Nope! Every room is fine to hide in!” She informed him and readied herself to go hide once tall-guy started the countdown.

Once he uttered the number 50 she raced for her hiding spot. Hide-n-seek must have been just as much fun for them as it was for her because they had played it none stop since their arrival. It truly was fun. Too bad they had all started to run out of hiding places, for now, she and short-guy were sharing a hiding spot in a closet.

“I didn’t want to say anything at first,” Short-guy started in a whisper. “But you really don’t know what we actually do, do you?”

“What do you mean?” She asked her voice also in a low whisper.

That was when he moved closer. His fingers, coarse and warm, lightly played with her smooth ones.

“We’re more so entertainers of the… Sexual sort.” He purred and pressed a feather-like kiss on her collar bone.

Oh. Oh!

“My apologies! I honestly had no inclination of that kind.” She apologized.

“We could play a different kind of game while we’re here.”

“Does this game have any lewd undertones?”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He started, his voice low, husky, and very alluring. “But I really want to.”

She had never done anything of that nature while in the Heaven’s. Her father had forbidden such matters. It wasn’t as if he was purposely trying to keep her pure, but more so that he did not think anyone suitable for her. Now with the opportunity to try something so daring with someone whose profession was that of pleasure, she couldn’t think of a better opportunity. She draped her arms over his shoulders and dipped her head down to whisper in his ear, in a way that she hoped was also alluring, “I would not mind at all.”

It must have been the correct way to seduce someone because the smirk he gave her sent her skin scrawling in delight. He pressed her against the wall, which pressed the primly pressed suits to scrunch up behind her. Both his hands gently cupped her face while he brought his lips close to her own. So close were they to kissing that when light from the bedroom broke the darkness she realized that they were still in the midst of hide-and-seek.

“Looks like we were found.” Short-guy chuckled, which garnered a giggle from her.

“Yes, I do believe we have been.” She hummed and stepped around him when he pulled back to give her room to do so.

A figure stood in the doorway that was not of the one that was the seeker. The contrast from the light outside the closet made it hard to see who it truly was until she reached closer to him.

“Eisuke!” She all but shouted with glee. She was so excited in fact that she didn’t pick up on the flare in his eyes or the irritated downturn of his lips. “Guess what we’re playing!”

“Seven minutes in heaven?” He asked, rather exasperated.

She again didn’t catch on to the heavy glare that he swept over her and to how that glare hardened when it landed on short-guy.

“No silly,” she laughed and skipped forward. “We were playing hide-‘n-seek. Would you like to play as well?”

“What I would like is for the last remaining gigolo to leave my home.” His words were harsh and it was then that {Name} took note of his less than pleasant mood.

“Gigolo?” She mumbled and tilted her head to the side in thought. “Is that what sex workers are called now and days?”

Short-guy gave a shrug and a lazy smirk her way. “I know when I’m not wanted. Too bad though.”

The wink he sent her way had her legs feeling of jelly.

“Yes. What a disappointment.” Was Eisuke’s bland reply.

She, being the ever so gracious hostess, walked him to the front door. He turned to her once he stood in the hallway outside the apartment.

“If you ever need me, you know where to call.” He gave her a wolfish grin. “I wouldn’t mind treating you to a good time…”

The door was promptly slammed in his face before he could finish his sentence. Her eyes traveled from the hand that was placed against the door to the face of its owner.

“I do not see why you are so angry. I had nothing to do and it was not as if I knew they were “gigolo’s”. I simply thought they were entertainers.” She explained to him and opted to float in the air once more.

He merely arched a brow at her before he walked passed her. She, of course, followed him. He walked into his closet and looked over the clothes they had crumpled and it was then that she took notice of the few pieces of suit shirts that had fallen off their hangers and were now strewn about the floor.

“Did you two fuck in my closet?” He asked as he picked up each shirt.

“What a vulgar thing to say. But, no, we did not have sex in your closet. We were close to kissing each other though. It is too bad, he looked like he would given me a wonderful kiss.” She assured him.

“Fine. Get rid of these clothes that both you and he touched.” He ordered as he practically shoved his way past her.

“How would you propose I do that?”

“Burn them. Toss them in the trash. Use your imagination.”

She more so heard than saw him shut the master bathroom door. Despite how normally he shut the door, it still gave the sense of him slamming it. Was it really wrong of her to invite people over to entertain her? It was his fault for leaving her alone. She looked down at the clothes before she let her gaze move to the ones that were barely hanging onto their hangers. With a dramatic sigh, she snapped her fingers and watched with mild satisfaction as the clothes disappeared into nothingness.

#kissed by the baddest bidder #voltage inc #eisuke ichinomiya

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