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wholesomeivygreen · 3 years

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Sukuna never had a problem getting himself off. He had multiple people to pleasure him ofcourse. It was always one needy whore after another, girl or boy, man or woman. They all wanted to be beside him and praise him.

All untill you. You and your innocent little joy of life.

The day he saw you he was raptured by your sweet smile and blinding beauty. Ofcourse sukuna being the king of curses wanted a taste of you and he knew that once you got a taste of him, you would be on your knees ready to serve him, or so he thought.

To lure you in he disguised himself as a commoner. As much as he hated it that was the only way he could get you to sleep with him. And so there he was standing in front of you- hand in hand...and in a date? He didnt quite understand the concept of dating. It was bizzare and quite complex.. I mean why spend time talking about interests and giving information about oneself that can be used in battles when you could indulge in worldly pleasures lusting over him.

But when he stood there, next to your smiling figure that was failing to get the toy out of the mysterious box of gifts and treasures or as you called it a claw crane.

He didn't understand how small things like those could excite you, he knew he could get you better toys, gifts unfathomable to human kind. Gifts and treasures that only the richest-

"Hehe look isnt this one adorable" you swirled your arm into his pulling him close to hear your heavenly laughter more clearly making him twinge with goosebumps.

As you continued to adore the little ball of cotton he made it his mission to buy the biggest toy there was. Huffing his chest when making the promise only to find you laughing and telling him that it was late and you both needed to catch the last bus.

Scoffing he agreed but somehow the walk back to the station made his way with talks and taunts that somehow made the curse laugh with genuine joy and peace.

Sometimes he found himself smiling and bit too fondly and having to remind himself that he was the kind of curses, devil reincarnated, a powerful curse who once ravaged the earth making thousands tremble-

Disturbed from his thoughts you pulled him down to land the lightest kiss on his cheekbone making him stare at you in wonder.

"Good night sukuna" ofcourse he told you his name....well he wanted to tell you his actual form too but after tonight...god what if he would scare you? What if you didnt want to be with him...wait be with him? Why would he be worried if you wanted to be with him or not?

Laughing he questioned his thoughts making him talk to himself in the dark way back home

'Yea right. Me the powerful sukuna..wanting a woman like her to be with me' what rubbish he thought while having the slightest tinge of red coat his ears.

As a couple weeks went by you both got closer and closer. The more you grew closer you more flustered you got, and ofcourse he wouldnt miss any tiny detail. Everytime he did something to mess with you he would await to see your lovely flustered reaction.

When he would lean down to brush his lips on yours ever so slightly teasing every inch of your tiny self he found himself filled with eagerness and desperation to get closer and make you his. But oh dear god the way you would whimper and sound off his reactions sending blood straight to his dick.

When he found out you reacted like that, whimpering and trembling at his arms sensitive to his touch he found himself repeating it over and over again.

Only to break apart one day and found himself pinning you to the floor as he floated on top of you lips inches apart, eyes fumbling between his and his lips as though signaling to wanting more.

"You look so fucking pretty like this" he said cupping your tiny face with his big hand bringing it closer to a heated kiss, tongue swirling into your own only making you groan into the kiss. With every sound you made, every trace of your small fingers on his body he only was tempted more, tempted to rip off every piece of clothing your body dared to hold.

He wanted to leave marks all over your body, emotion of jealousy and possessiveness taking over him as he left dark red kisses onto your soft skin.

When he raised his head he found you looking at him with a shock.

"Wha- who are you?"

Confusion evidenton his face he jerked back "Huh doll what are you talking about? I'm sukuna"

"No..sukuna doesnt look like this" you said backing off to a corner and as he noted his tatto on his wrists he realised, he changed back to his form. A form he grew when in lust or holding a desire to monopolize something.

Fuck

"Sweetheart. It's me.. I was just-" he knew no words put together would explain who he was and the grew a bit angry when he saw your face holding disgust or so he thought.

Huffing he sat down explaining the most he could. Leaving out parts where he would continue on another day but today he needed you, he needed to feel you, to hear your sweet sultry voice begging him to make you cum.

To his shock you werent afraid, hurting he didnt tell you before this but as you scoped closer cupping his face clearly way too big for your tiny hand

"I just wish youd told me sooner. I dont care where you're from and what you did. As long as we are together I dont want to worry about that."

Sukuna never knew words could turn him on the way it did right now. Pouncing on you continuing where he left off he was quick to remove all your clothing.

As he removed his he noted the way you stared into his chest eyeing his every feature. As though you wanted to eat him up. As he removed his underwear your mouth fell wide.

There was no way that would fit you. No way

As though he could read your mind he came to kiss you deeply

"Dont worry brat, I'll make sure to stretch you wide enough to take me. Hmm? I know my princess will do that for me wont ya?" Nodding he smacked one hand on your cunt he trailed his fingers that were so big you worried about them fitting too.

As he rubbed circles on your clit enjoying every sound that poured out from your sweet lips. As he traced the lining of your dripping pussy he collected some of your juices in his fingers before bringing them to his mouth sucking on them

"Fuck you taste so good. Cant wait to fill you with my cum."

With the end of that sentence he entered your tight hole. Fingering you slowly at first so you got used to his huge fingers. He pumped you in and out observing every twitch and shiver you showed. He sucked onto one of your breasts and the other hand rubbed deep circles on your clit and massaged your folds.

The way he fingered you were sinful, every turn and pull making you moan in delight. As he swirled his index and pointing finger to pump more juices from your dripping cunt he came down to suck on your sensitive clit flicking it with his tongue. He continued his ministrations ramming his fingers into your twitching hole.

He was observant, learning your every reaction as he curled up his fingers to reach a spot so sensitive earning a Yelp and you scurrying away from his touch only for him to pull you back with his nails digging into the soft of your thighs. Kissing you thighs biting the inner side of them.

"Did I tell you could move away from my touch brat? The next time you scurry away and I wont let you cum. Okay? and be a good little whore and lemme stretch you" his words leaving a harsh warning into your brain you knew not to move. Rather you pushed your hips to match his pace as he fingered you to your orgasm.

As you felt a gush of water on your inner thighs you were left heaving and trying to make sense of reality when he came forward lining himself towards your entrance collecting the juices your dripping pussy let out.

"Hmm..and what should I do next princess?? Hmm?"

"Please- I.. want you in me" you said nervously fidgeting with you arms as you let you arms hang on his broad shoulders. He kissed the side of your ears whispering in an octave deeper than usual

"Want what?" He teasing and licking your ears, he knew it was your sensitive spot

"I want your huge cock. Please sukuna"

"Say it clearly brat" he said slapping your boobs before sucking and nibbling your tip

"I want ...want your big dick in me.. please sukuna"

"That's it..that's all I wanted to hear my sweet whore"

As words left your mouth you felt a stretch in your tiny pussy earning a groan from the great king himself before sinking in to reach the deepest part of you that no one ever could

"Fuck you're so fucking tight" he said ramming himself into you obliterating your sweet cunt. His thrusts never slowed down only growing stronger and a tad bit faster so that you were getting accustomed to him. The stretch was so much, too much for you to handle as you felt tears spilling from your reddened cheeks you held onto him hoping you make it out out this alive because the way he was making a mess out of you you werent sure.

He continued and on noticing your tears he kissed your cheeks and lips asking if you were okay. The great king reduced to asking whether you were okay or not..times had truly changed

"Go- go a bit slower.. you're...to..too big unnhhh" you said leaving nail marks on his back earning a hiss from him and that sentence just drove him over the cliff.

Realization hit and he slowed down not so much just a bit so that his arms were on either side of you, mouth kissing your cry of pleasure away.

Soon his arms held your waist in a way to slightly hold you up and he angled himself to curve himself into you. You gasped into the air, breath leaving your lungs for a second as he smirked with the power that only he had. To make such a face out of you.

Hair messed up, body sweating and mouth left gaping open for him to steal open mouthed kisses anytime he wants. As he pulled you closer every inch of his dick now entering your tight cunny you felt your stomach bulging a bit and on looking down you found a bump of his tip. Smirking he massaged the area

"Is my dick too big for you tight cunny hm?" He said but the sight of you fucked up like this only drove him nuts making him turn your insides violently making you scream.

"Yes..you're so big. So fucking biggg...fuck su...I'm.. I'm so.."

Circling your sensitive clit he groaned into the sensation of you tightening on him "I know princess. Fuck I'm close too"

As you felt white run out you jerked your hips to match his brutal pace whimpering about how big he was and how hes ruining you.

With every thrust he grew closer to his unbecoming as he let out white strings of hot cum into your tight sweet cunny.

The sight etched into his memory, you laid out in front of him bare and vulnerable with dark marks all over your body, cunt leaking out his cum and sheets soaked with both your fluids.

This was a sight he would never forget as he laid next to you bringing you on top of him you rubbed circles on his tattooed chest admiring his chiseled body.

He brought your face up to kiss him sweetly, as though he was scared he would break you.

You fell into a deep slumber while the curse stayed awake..wondering what to be done of his new pet.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna #jjk smut #smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x y/n #smut jjk #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryoumen x reader #ivywrites #smut sukuna

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izukult · 3 years

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why you two break up (hq boys)

yes i do appreciate angst. although this isn’t really too sad. edit: im so sorry😞👊

warnings: me literally roasting yamaguchi off of smth that happened in like season two and that i don't even genuinely think would happen BUT OK IG. mental health? i think? breakups idk, tsukishima sounds like that ed sheeran song

character: hinata, kageyama, oikawa, sugawara, iwaizumi, matsukawa, hanamaki, kindaichi, yamaguchi, tsukishima, kenma, bokuto, akaashi, atsumu, nishinoya, tanaka

hinata shoyo

he loves you, really. but, you both know he’s not ready to love. hinata shoyo is the kind of guy to put his all into everything, and even though he really wanted to do that for you, something else was already taking place.

tobio kageyama

you know the phrase communication is key? it’s around for a reason. it wasn’t just that he struggled with not getting his emotions across, he just wasn’t trying anymore.

toru oikawa

toru is terrified to love. and, at first, you made it seem easy. liking you seemed worth being afraid, but he couldn’t handle loving you. he figured it’d be easier to hurt himself before you could.

sugawara koushi

uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

iwaizumi hajime

a clinical case of right person wrong time. a minor complication spirals into a major landslide, and neither of you know how to healthily handle it. the breakup is soft, quiet, and full of tears on both ends. it’s the kind of thing that leaves iwaizumi consistently and desperately trying to better himself, so when you come back the next time he’ll be ready and good enough.

matsukawa issei

it’s definitely a circumstantial breakup, and he didn’t think that would hurt worse than anything else. you’re going to college abroad, and you insist you can’t make him stop his life for you. he promises you he’ll wait for you to come back, and something about it feels so true you almost have hope.

hanamaki takahiro

makki lives for spontaneity. he loves coming up with new ideas and making them happen. while some people fear change, he thrives off of it. standing still is scary for him— and relationships arent an acception.

kindaichi yutaro

he doesn’t like to show it, but kindaichi is sensitive. like, really really sensitive. a little joke or a look the wrong way sits wrong with him, and he can’t stop tossing and turning over it. he brings it up in the heat of the moment during an argument, and he’s ending things with you before he can even process what’s coming out of his mouth.

yamaguchi tadashi

yamaguchi is a coward. or, as he would say, he is precautious. he makes the safer choice, and he takes the easy way out. whether it was his serves, his presentation of self, or you.

tsukishima kei

sometimes, he thinks he might be the stupidiest man alive, because he genuinely does not know when he crosses a line. he took it too far one too many times and he hated seeing you cry. especially when you were crying over him. he figured you’d be happier with someone else.

kenma kozume

he’s too tired to take care of himself, he doesn’t know how to help take care of another person. it just becomes a little too much and a little too draining for the both of you, and you decide if you’re meant to be you will be down the line.

bokuto kotaro

bokuto is such a puppy, it was only natural for you two to have a puppy love. but, that’s all it was. soon enough, the magic fizzles out and the honeymoon phase was just that— a phase. the breakup is mutual, you have to think, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t cross your mind from time to time and that doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss you.

akaashi keiji

the more akaashi opened up in front of you, the less he felt like you liked him. insecurity was starting to become his main emotion in your relationship, and neither of you deserved that. it was planned to be more of a break than a breakup, as he takes time to value himself and you wait to prove to him you care.

miya atsumu

atsumu knows he’s too cocky sometimes, but he can’t stop. whether it’s a coping mechanism or an unchecked god complex, something is holding him back from growing and it strained your relationship. during a fight, he told you you were holding him back from his true potential— so you “set him free”.

nishinoya yu

nishinoya isn’t as confident as he seems. he isn’t naturally fearless, and no matter how hard he tries to pretend, he realizes you can only fake it til you make it for so long. he doesn’t want to burden you. he doesn’t want to add his problems to your life, or bother you in any way. he just thinks it makes the most sense to push you away— for your own good.

tanaka ryunosuke

tanaka idolized you from the start. you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, and he made it ridiculously obvious. when he got you, he was elated. but as time passed, he started to see more and more what it really was— idolizing. he didn’t love you, he loved the idea of you.

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edwardelricsrightarm · 2 years

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Edward Elric's journey with philosophy, religion, and dogma.

Since the dawning of language, collective thought, and philosophical dialogue, humanity has debated science and logic versus religion and spirituality, pitted them against one another as if they must be entirely separate, as if only one of the two may win to advance society, simplifying the world into a black and white bickering that always results in condescending circle jerks from arrogant scientific academia and blatant misinformation campaigns from religious zealots. This creates a pattern of dogma from both sides, neither one yielding to the other or seeing the reality of the grey areas. It is reductive, lacks nuance, and serves only to create division amongst ourselves.

This is why when I see media that subverts, questions, or analyses this issue I feel like I've taken a breath of fresh air. Fullmetal Alchemist perfectly encompasses this in many ways (particularly mangahood in my opinion and memory, but people are absolutely allowed to have varying thoughts and I admittedly don't recall 03 in great detail).

"Edward Elric is an athiest who believes in materialism and nihilism" can be a reductive takeaway from Fullmetal Alchemist that I would like to break down. I can see why this is a common thought, and I can agree that Edward at the beginning of the story does behave and express athiest and nihilist thought, but I would argue he doesn't remain an objective athiest as the series advances.

Ed knows that there is inherent value to existence and consciousness. He is an absurdist, not a nihilist. The world exists and is technically meaningless, but this doesn't stop meaning from being assigned to the chaos, and doesn't strip life of individual value. This is what Edward comes to learn and present in his beliefs. This is expressed in the well remembered phrase "one is all, all is one." Edward Elric develops from an arrogant athiest who depends on materialism and objectivity too much (not that athiesm is inherently arrogant, simply that many athiests fall into the same dogmatic patterns they criticize from religion) to becoming a more rounded agnostic pantheist (in one is all, all is one, which perfectly summarizes pantheism) that acknowledges that life is more than a complex series of formulaic reactions, that existence is more than mere chemicals and ingredients and chaos. He has Met God, he knows god exists, he just doesn't worship them. He holds reverence for life itself, for the All and the One.

Thinking of the world in transactional terms is misguided and often harmful, we see this in how Ed shifts from worshipping "equivalent exchange" just as fervently as any god, only to see it collapse in real time with the events around him. He sees his hypocrisy, and begins to see the value in looking at life as more than mere logic.

He thought he could get his mom back by trading in mundane elemental traces and ingredients, that her entire personhood could be bought back with odds and ends. This was his first taste of the reality that science, or in this case Alchemy, cannot fix everything or offer solutions to all loss, and some losses are inevitable and impossible to stop. He forgot the value of a soul in his hubris, and to see the common takeaway from this that he is a personification of athiesm isn't entirely accurate and at times can be tone deaf to the contents of the story. (See for example Elon Musk, a capitalist imperialist who wishes to colonize space, using Edward as a profile picture on his Twitter, completely missing that the point of FMA is that science without empathy is merely atrocity and that devaluing life to mere figures and stats using logic and objectivity is inherently wrong and leads to large scale societal harm.)

We see Edward confront the value of life beyond the material many times, namely in regards to his and Alphonse's transgression of the ultimate taboo, in Miracle at Rush Valley, and in response to the plot to mass sacrifice Amestris as if human beings are merely a resource.

To place Edward as a materialist and athiest who sees no spiritual meaning of life ignores his development as a character, stagnates him and leaves him where he started, and aligns him with a mentality that more describes how Father approaches life and philosophy, and I think it misses a lot of his development as a character to simplify him this way. Once again there's of course nothing wrong with being an atheist if you're not a dick about it, but I truly think it's not accurate to describe him as one in how he presents his beliefs by the end of the story.

There's absolutely no problem inherent to atheism (I identified as one myself for years) but this feels like a massive mischaracterization I often encounter. People are welcome to disagree w my interpretation, but these thoughts feel worth sharing.

#fmab #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fma #fma brotherhood #edward elric #meta #analysis #character analysis #character essay

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demowogorgon · 3 years

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The Art of Breathing

Summary: In which Julie chases you down and fucks you in the woods. CW for Primal/Prey play and Knife Play. Reader is completely gender-neutral but has a vulva.

Pairing: Julie Kostenko/Reader (Established Relationship)

Word Count: 2537

If there’s one thing you know about Julie, it’s that she loves the thrill of the chase. The pounding of blood and adrenaline flowing through her veins like a dam newly burst is a feeling like no other, and it's one that she looks forward to in every trial. But it’s even more exhilarating when the chase leads to you: or perhaps, when the chase starts with you.

The cabin is eerily quiet as you pass through the threshold, save for the sound of howling wind gliding off and around the rotting wood. It’s cold and quiet, absent of the joy, jokes and laughter that usually echoes through their halls.

It’s strange to wander around like this. You know that you can’t really be hurt outside of the trials - at least, not permanently - but you still feel the lightest of shivers rack your body as the unsettling atmosphere starts to set in. For a moment you consider turning back and returning to the campfire for the hour, rather than wait for your friends to return.

“Are you gonna come in and sit down, or are you just letting the cold air in?” Julie’s voice echoes from the shadows, making you jump out of your skin. Only then do you notice the edges of her boots swinging from the armrest of a plush chair, illuminated faintly by the dim moonlight that filters through the dilapidated wood. You smile, finally at ease and kicking the door shut with your foot, crossing the room in great strides. The wood creaks underneath your excited footsteps in the most familiar way that makes your heart soar, like a mother welcoming her child home. In another life you would have found the creaking and groaning wood eerie, like a scene out of a horror movie, but perhaps it’s the fond memories that you’ve shared at the abandoned resort that’s made the sound pleasant to your ears?

Julie smiles up at you as you walk around the armchair, kicking her feet off of the armrest and opening her arms for you. You walk closer, draping your arms around her neck while she drums her fingers along your waist. Her cropped brown hair is messy, and you card your fingers through her hair with a chuckle.

“No fire?” You ask.

She hums, pulling you into her lap rather than responding. You’re vaguely aware that the front of her pants isn’t flat as you lean in to kiss her, and you roll your hips experimentally. Your suspicions are confirmed when she leans back with a mutter.

“They just left, you know,” she murmurs, “Everyone should be out for another hour, at least.”

“Yeah?” you smile, leaning back in for another kiss. But you’re stopped when she winds her hands through your hair, pulling you back and drawing a hiss from your lips. The telltale click of a switchblade makes your heart race, although not unpleasantly so. Your eyes follow its path as she brings it up slowly to your cheek, dragging it down delicately past your neck and over your sternum. She makes no marks, but the cold blade leaves electric jolts flying through your body. She releases her hold on your hair, instead resting her newly-freed hand over your thigh. Part of you wants to move, to rock your hips into hers, but the reminder of the sharp blade keeps your hips in check.

“Are you gonna behave?” She all but purrs, flipping the blade and dragging it back up to your neck.

“Yes,” you whisper, “I’ll be good.”

“Good. I think…” she pauses, tapping the handle of the knife gently, “that I’d like to chase you tonight. Would you like that?”

You’re more than familiar with the game, and you can’t help the excited whine that claws its way from your lips at its mention. You hum affirmatively, resisting the urge to nod as the blade presses into your skin.

She smiles, revealing her all-too-sharp canines as her eyes darken in the pale moonlight. She taps the blade again before applying more pressure, peering at you through her eyelashes. “Use your words,” she says. Her voice lifts a fraction, teasing you with a grin. You fight the urge to swallow, heat rushing to your face like a dam newly burst.

“Yes,” you repeat.

She chuckles, letting the pressure off with a smile. “Always so eager,” she coos. She closes the blade with a dull “click” and places it on the arm of the chair, placing her other hand on your thigh. Her hands roam up and down your thighs, and you take the opportunity to lean in once more. The kiss she leaves on your lips is chaste, and you know not to push the boundaries any farther.

One last squeeze to your thighs, pleasant as it may be, coaxes you out of her lap. The silence is deafening as she stares you down like a hungry lion, eyes dark yet playful. Her tongue darts between her lips subconsciously, and it’s embarrassing just how hard you fight to suppress the urge to lean down for yet another kiss. You're so focused on her lips and the look in her eyes that you almost miss the words that flow out of her mouth, lips parting with a smile.

“Run.”

And just like that you’re out the door, rushing into the woods and frantic to abuse whatever headstart she feels like giving you. Your hands scrape against the rough bark of the trees as you run, peeling around one section of the woods before crossing to the other side in an attempt to make your tracks more complex, more confusing. The branches whip against your arms, drawing blood as you dart through the densest areas of the forest, and the air stings as it slaps against your new wounds. You’re not sure how much of a headstart you’re being allowed, but you’re determined to use every second of it. Your lungs burn as you push yourself further and further, leaping over fallen trees and ducking under larger branches like a frantic deer escaping a predator.

That feeling is only heightened as you hear another set of footsteps join your own, but your movements are fluid and practiced as you bound through the dense woods. The supernatural, perpetually-nighttime air is ice-cold in your lungs, but it only serves to exacerbate the burning ache that grows within them. You zigzag through the trees, hoping to throw her off enough to make more distance, but the thudding of her boots seems to come from every direction as you run.

Your only mistake was attempting to pass through a clearing, and you realize it the moment you feel her body slam into yours. You push yourself off the ground, kicking as you try to get away. And for a moment you succeed, rising halfway to your feet before she grabs you by the ankle and pulls your body back with a ‘zip’ along the grass and snow. Your struggle ceases for a moment as she rolls you onto your back, climbing onto you and straddling your hips with her knees pressing down onto the backs of your hands. You try to pull your hands out, to possibly push back and prolong the chase, but you stop the moment she pulls out her hunting knife, slamming the blade into the dirt above your head with a force that seems to shake the world. And in that moment the world stops, rocked by the sheer force of metal piercing through the earth.

“Caught you,” she breathes. The longest strands of her hair hang down from her face, chest heaving with the exertion and adrenaline that comes with her favorite game of chase. Her sepia eyes glint like the cat who caught the canary as she catches her breath, sweat rolling down her exposed arms and disappearing under her black tank top. She leans up, carding her hand through her hair once she’s sure that you’re not going to attempt another escape. The thick and endless woods are silent, save for your shared breaths and the heart that hammers endlessly in your ears. You swallow, eyes tracing the glints of her canines as she smiles down at you.

Your breath catches in your throat as her hand makes its way up your shirt, lingering at the lift of your chest before pushing up and tweaking your experimentally. And oh, the whine that claws its way from your lips is equal parts sinful and shameful, the chase having lit each and every sense on fire. Your body feels like it’s burning, and god how you ache to have her hands on you. She chuckles at your sensitivity but wastes no time, taking her knees off of your hands and undoing the buckle of your belt to pull your pants and briefs away from your body.

And just like that she’s on you, with her teeth on your neck and hand between your legs. Her fingers dip into your natural slick before darting back up to your clit, twisting and pulling at a pace that leaves stars floating in your vision.

“Fuck, Julie, please,” you babble mindlessly, “Please, I need it-”

“Use your words,” she coos.

“Please, I need you inside, please, please,” the words tumble out of your mouth, voice pitching as you buck against her hand. You hardly even recognize the words as they tumble out of your mouth, too desperate to even think straight.

She pulls away from your neck with a hum, drawing your gaze. Her eyes are dark, almost teasing. “I won, didn’t I?” Her voice is cocky as she speaks, the corners of her mouth lifting up in a smirk. “I think that means I get to choose.”

But she dips her fingers into your heat regardless, curling and fucking inside you in the way that leaves your legs shaking. Her palm presses against your clit, rubbing against it each time she pistons her fingers out of you. You can feel your wetness dripping down her hand, and you revel in the way that her breath shakes. She hums, sighing quietly as she gazes down at you - helpless and needy. She rocks back on her heels and returns her other hand to your clit, and you practically sob at the sensation. It’s not long before you’re shaking, the telltale wave of heat zipping through your body and the coil in your abdomen snapping. You come with a cry, unable to suppress the arch in your back or the gasp that tears its way through you.

The soft moan of your lover makes your cheeks flush and she dips down to lick up all that you have to give, holding your hips down with her arm as your body instinctively tries to squirm away.

She hardly gives you a moment to breathe once she comes up, maneuvering you onto your hands and knees. The dirt is cold against your chest, and it’s a mind-numbing contrast to her warm hands as they travel along the dip in your spine and back to your ass. And then she’s pressing you back down again, digging her palm into the valley between your shoulder blades. The noises that follow are a blur - the clinking of her belt, the shucking of her pants, the clicks of a cap. But before you can even breathe, you feel the head of her favorite cock pressing at your entrance.

Each press into your sex leaves you breathless, the ridges of her strap leaving you with stars in your vision. Her grip on your hips is tight enough to leave bruises, and you can’t tell if the whine escaping from your throat is from the strength of her hands, or if it’s because of the way her strap is stretching you, filling out any bit of room you’ll allow. Her breath trembles before she laughs under her breath, and you feel a surge of pride in knowing that it’s because of you.

Your nails dig into the earth as she bottoms out, nerves still reeling from your previous orgasm. You whine at the fullness, prompting a chuckle from her.

“You really are just a dumb little prey animal, huh?” she laughs, “And you’re gonna take all that I have to give, understood?”

You nod rapidly, babbling half-broken yeses and pleads, far too gone to form coherent sentences. You’re vaguely aware of the way you’re moving your hips back against her strap, begging for more movement, more friction, more anything-

And oh, you’re damn close to praising every god under the sun when she starts moving your hips, rocking into your oversensitive hole. Her moans mix with yours as the silicon rocks back into her own clit, and you’re a babbling mess as she pulls you up by the throat, pulling you flush against her chest as she rocks into you relentlessly. Her mouth returns to your neck and shoulder, sucking dark marks into what little space isn’t covered by her hand. Her teeth leave deep indentations, canines threatening to break through your skin in a way that leaves you panting and whining - although whether you’re begging for more or less, you can’t seem to tell. Her mutterings of praise and adoration become background noise as she rocks into you, and each sensation - the way she’s fucking into you, the sting of her bites, her hand on your clit, the feeling of her fingers digging ever so slightly into your neck and instilling the most euphoric sense of lightheadedness - sends you shaking and coming with a cry that would rival the deafening call of an angel from heaven.

You suppress the urge to whine when she pulls out of you, instead choosing to wrap your arms around her neck as she pulls you flush toward her chest once more. Your heart still pounds as you come down from the high, heavy thrums pounding in your ears.

Your voice is dreamy when you find the words to speak, looking softly at her bright brown eyes. “Hey,” you greet.

“Hey,” she laughs. She cards a single hand through your hair before placing a chaste kiss to your shoulder. You smile and return the gesture, humming at the softness of her hair.

The next few moments together are tender as you coax each other into half-modesty, reclothing one another with quiet laughter and gentle jokes. And before you can react she’s sweeping you off your feet, twirling you around as she carries you back to the cabin. And in this world of darkness and uncertainty, everything seems to fall into place - even if only for a moment.

Your feet dangle as she carries you back to the little lodge, arms wrapped loosely around her neck.

“Hey baby?” you ask.

“Hm?”

“Can I have a kiss?”

She laughs obligingly before planting a kiss to your lips. When she pulls back she scrunches her nose at you, sticking her tongue out playfully.

“One more?”

Again, she obliges.

“More?”

It’s not long before she’s twirling you around, placing goofy little kisses anywhere she can. The forest is filled with laughter like no other, and you’re certain that this is where you were always meant to be.

#julie kostenko x reader #dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight imagine #dbd x reader smut #the legion x reader #dbd the legion x reader #dbd julie x reader #dbd imagine

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goodgirlofglory · 3 years

Text

A hairy situation / One-shot

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 4,3k

Warnings: 18+, Explicit sexual content, Explicit language, smut, oral (m/f recieving), slight fingering, hair pulling, pubic hair pulling, pubic hair!kink, dirty talk, fluffy dirty talk, slight soft dom!Steve, some standard fluff in there too.

Summary: You usually keep yourself neatly shaved for when Steve returns from missions, but this time things change and you find yourself with a full blown bush by the time Steve’s about to remove your pants. His reaction is quite different from what you expected (*wink* *wink*) …

Author’s note: This has not been proofread by anyone but me, so all the mistakes are mine<3 Hope you enjoy<3

The warm water ran down your back as your hand absentmindedly caressed your naked stomach. Nowadays the shower was the only relief for your touch-starved body.

Usually, Steve would be gone for about three months when on missions. This one was bordering on four, and he had warned you the prognosis was five. You were already wallowing in self pity, your body practically humming with built up arousal at being left untouched for so long.

Only a month left, only a month left, only a month left...

Your hand found your mound and started playing in the curls that were adorning it. An impressive mop of dark curls had grown there during your months of loneliness, and you had now grown quite used to feeling the soft hair between your fingers.

Usually you kept yourself bald except for a neatly trimmed triangle or heart above your slit - one time you even managed to make a circle with a star in the middle, which had made Steve both cringe, blush and laugh his eyes out at the same time.

He’d fucked you all the same though, quite fervently too if memory served you right.

Now, however, you had let the razor lie for a while and suddenly you were sporting the bush of a 60’s hippie.

You quite enjoyed it, and would actually miss it somewhat when you’d shave it upon Steve’s return.

Steve always gave you a heads up when he returned from missions. Several actually. Usually he would call once he had landed at the compound, so he could hear your voice and how happy you became once you realized he was back.

Then he would text once he had debriefed, showered and was leaving the compound, and then again once he had reached your apartment complex, mostly because he couldn’t help his excitement.

That last text was usually just a heart emoji (you had laboured hard to teach him texting - especially emoji use - so those hearts were particularly satisfying).

So you always had plenty of time to clean the apartment up a bit, shower (and shave), dress in something sexy and maybe even light some candles and put on some sweet 30’s jazz (a special treat for Steve).

That’s why you weren’t stressing about letting your hair grow out down there, it would simply take a bit longer to shave once you got the notice from Steve.

Which would be a month away at least.

God

You stepped out of the shower, got dressed and left for work, ready to throw yourself into your tasks at the gallery in order to distract yourself from your misery. Maybe you’d even get some Ben and Jerry’s on your way home.

You struggled to push through the front door with your work bag on one arm and a bag of groceries (Ben and Jerry’s included) on the other. That’s when you noticed the music softly playing from the living room. Weird, you didn’t remember leaving the radio on…

When you’d closed the door and shook off your shoes, you noticed the distinct smell of your honey and rose body soap lingering in the air. There was no way that had kept since your shower this morning. Something was amiss...

You barely begun to feel anxious when a large pair of hands clasped around your face and a pair of familiar lips crushed onto yours. Your yelp was muffled by the passionate kiss, and a second later your mind caught up and you realized.

It was Steve! There, in your apartment, his tongue sliding passed your lips and into your mouth as it opened willingly for him.

The bag of groceries fell to the ground along with your bag and you flung your arms around his neck as he whipped his hands around the back of your thighs and hoisted them up to wrap around his slim hips in one, smooth movement.

You broke away from the kiss with a gleeful squeal.

“You’re here!?” You were dumbfounded in your joy.

“I couldn’t stay away from my best girl any longer,” he responded with a smile, pushing you up against the front door.

“But I didn’t get a call! Or a text. Or even a heart emoji,” you said, more incredulous than anything else. It was a wonderful surprise that caught you completely off guard, blizz surging through your body.

“Yeah, I wanted to surprise you, actually see you when you got the news for once. I had the team do the debriefing on the jet so they could drop me off here directly,” he said as he leaned in for another kiss. “Totally worth it to see your reaction,” he said against your lips, and laughed when you slapped his chest.

“You scared me, you asshole,” you exclaimed, but you were laughing with him.

“Sorry,” he answered as he kissed his way down your jaw and onto your neck, warm hands squeezing your thighs. He didn’t sound sorry at all, teeth nipping at your pulse point, drawing a tiny gasp from your lips.

Touch-starved indeed.

Your mind started to fog over with a wave of arousal as you started to feel down his back. The muscles rippled under your fingertips, and you raked your nails back up to his neck, eliciting a quiet groan from his throat.

That’s when you noticed he was completely nude except for a rather tiny towel around his hips.

“You showered here? And you used my body soap?” you asked.

“I had to shower, I don’t think you could have handled the smell. Three months undercover in the Croatian black market, the last three weeks on a pig farm in the countryside. Plus, your body soap reminds me of you. Got me hard just smelling it,” he said, letting you down on your feet again as he started ripping off your layers of clothing, breath coming out in pants.

Hard indeed, you thought, as you looked down to see the tiny towel struggle against the tent at the front.

Instinctively, you reached for it, throwing the towel off as he threw your jacket and scarf aside, grasping his hard cock in one hand, feeling how hot and heavy it was in your palm.

He threw his head back and let out a shuddering breath, hands loosely wrapped around your neck as you gave an experimental tug. He seemed pretty much as touch-starved as you.

There was a reason you reacted so quickly once you got the heads up. Aggression, stress, adrenaline plus his enhanced physique usually meant a lot of pent up energy needed release once Steve got back from missions. You had no qualm at all being the vessel through which that energy was released. Steve would put you through the mattress two to three times during the first night back, and you absolutely fucking loved it. And you loved him, and were pretty sure he loved you back.

“I love you,” he muttered against your lips as he started pushing you towards the bedroom, your hand still wrapped around his cock, pulling at it slowly as leakage began to spring forth at the tip. Your mouth watered at the sight.

“I missed you, I need you. Now,” he continued, voice breathy as his eyes gazed sweetly into your own. Your breath caught in your throat at the piercing blue.

“God, Steve, you have no idea how much I’ve longed for you,” you heard yourself saying, emotion washing over you almost making you whimper. You still couldn’t believe he was here, a whole month before time!

The back of your knees hit the bed and he gently pushed you down onto your back, hands going straight for your pants when you froze.

Shit. A month before time. Fuck

Without the heads up you hadn’t had the opportunity to shave. You hadn’t even gotten your bag off your shoulder before he had practically thrown himself over you in the hallway.

You had no idea what this would mean to Steve. Would it be a turn off? Did women sport bushes in the 40’s? Had he even seen a woman’s pussy before he went in the ice?

The thought of this moment being ruined sparked a panic in your mind and your hands shot up to grab Steve’s wrists as he was undoing the button of your pants.

His hands stilled and he gave you a confused look.

“What is it?” he asked, concerned.

You gave a strained smile and bit your lips as you stared into his curious eyes. Why were you suddenly being so unsure of yourself? This was Steve, you could say anything to Steve!

“You know, since you were a month early, and didn’t text before you came over...I didn’t have time to...freshen up...down there,” you said slowly and gestured awkwardly to your crotch.

He huffed a laughter.

“Honey, you know I love the way you taste. Just let me get these off you,” he said confidently as he undid your sipper swiftly and started to tug at the waistband of your trousers.

“It’s not that,” you said, again stopping his hands mid-movement.

You took a deep breath.

“I haven’t shaved...in four months...so it’s kinda...bushy” you said, averting your eyes in embarrassment.

This was truly uncharted territory, seeing how you couldn’t even keep eye contact. This was the man who’d had his whole tongue up your ass.

“Oh” he said, surprised, though there was a hint of curiosity in it.

His eyes grew wider as he stared at your pant clad crotch, hands still on the waist band. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip as he focused intently on the space between your legs. You couldn’t read his expression, he didn’t seem to know exactly what he was feeling himself.

Then he slowly pulled your pants down your legs and threw them on the floor. He sat down on his knees in front of the bed and pulled at your thighs with ease until your butt was right at the edge. He never let his eyes away from your crotch, you watching him intently.

When his eyes darted up to meet yours, they were dilated to the point where only a small rim of blue shone around the black pools of...lust?

“You’ve grown a whole forest for me, have you?” he asked, voice suddenly gone dark and ruff, and he looked back down between your legs.

You tiny lace thong concealed your slit and puckered back entrance, but not much more. On all sides of the light purple fabric was wild, dark hair, some even springing forth through the lace. You thought it was actually quite a pretty sight, but was still holding out on the verdict from Steve.

He let a finger trail the hair that was growing on one side of your panties, and a hum rang through his chest. That seemed like something you could recognize. It was a hum of approval. Of appreciation almost.

He took one of the curls sticking out of the lace between his fingers and pulled lightly. The tugging sensation provoked a gasp from you, and the responding grunt from Steve’s lips caught both of you off guard. Your eyes met briefly in surprise, before you both returned your focus to your hairy core.

You were starting to understand his reaction now, intrigued. Reaching down, you tugged your panties to the side, letting him see your slit and the puckered lips between the two mops of hair.

His breath came out harder as he spread his fingers through the hair before pulling at the lips, spreading them open to reveal your weeping hole and red clit, swollen and needy for attention. Without another word, Steve leaned in and gave a swipe of his tongue up the entire length of your slit, and you moaned at the pleasure that bolted through your core.

He started licking and sucking at your leaking sex like a man starved (which he to some degree was), hands gripping your hips and holding you down as you sqiurmed at the stimulation.

As he worked you, you threw your shirt off along with your bra, and his hands automatically reached up to your breasts as you lay back down on your back. Deftly, he rolled and pinched your hardening nipples with coarse fingertips, all while lapping at your clit with quick and wet expertise. He moaned into your core, sending a shiver up your spine and you started to rock your hips against his face in rhythm with his licks.

You knew you wouldn't need long tonight, and when Steve pulled his right hand down and slipped two fingers right into your cunt, he only needed to curl his fingers a couple of times before you came undone, back arching and lips open in a silent scream as you came, convulsing around his fingers. He languidly licked you through your orgasm, groaning into your wet heat as you relaxed back down on the mattress, breath ragged.

He removed his fingers from within you, and you lamented the absence. He put the fingers in his mouth, sucking greedily on the digits. He kept your eyes in a locked gaze as he moaned at the taste, and you whimpered at his unabashedness.

“You taste so good, baby,” he said between licking the residue of your orgasm of his knuckles.

America’s golden boy was such a dirty bastard in bed, and you couldn’t help your proud giggle at being the one who unleashed his inner beast.

His eyes went back to your quivering cunt and he let his fingertips gently play at your entrance. You didn’t quite understand where he was going with the gesture, but didn’t mind at all. He looked on entranced as he moved his fingers around your weeping hole, and you looked at him.

“God, what a sight,” he whispered, almost to himself. “Such pretty, wet curls”.

Your cheeks flushed and you let out another giggle. His attention drew to your face, and he laughed as well as you hid your face in the crook of your elbow. He raised himself to his feet and crawled over you on the bed.

“What?” he asked, smiling from ear to ear as you giggled again.

He was so darn cute, and still rock hard, his engorged length brushing against your inner thigh.

Instead of answering, you lifted your head up and caught his lips in a kiss. Enthusiastically, he threw himself into it, gasping when you took his bottom lip between your teeth and sucked lightly. A shiver went through him, a near pornographic groan leaving his throat.

Oh he was on tonight

You couldn’t wait to taste him. To feel his throbbing cock stretch your mouth, salty on your tongue.

You gently pushed at his chest, and he let you roll him over on his back. Lord knows you would never be able to move him without his help, but you both liked the feeling of you being in charge.

He watched you intently with those breathtaking blue eyes as you slithered down his body, laying wet kisses to his strapping chest, dipping your tongue into every divot of his abs. He let out these wonderful, small gasps every so often, his hands going into fists at his sides.

You wasted no time when you reached his cock, only licking once at the small drop of clear fluid sitting at the tip before taking the purple head into your mouth, sucking lightly.

Steve let out a strangled moan and threw his head back, eyes falling closed.

"Oh my god, baby, that's it," he panted.

Spurred on by his words, you started to work your head up and down his throbbing length, pushing him further in each time. When he hit the back of your throat, you pushed through your need to gag and swallowed around him.

He groaned, a deep, vibrating sound that went straight to your core like a lightning bolt.

You felt his hands on the back of your head as he held you in place.

Yes, yes, yes, you thought through your body's surge for air.

Tears pricked at your eyes as your throat convulsed around him, and Steve called out in that stern and commanding voice above you.

"Look at me"

And you did. His heavy brow furrowed, cheeks flushed and lips red, swollen and slightly parted. He was a vision and your cunt clamped around nothing, screaming for attention.

He gripped a fistful of hair and dragged your face off his cock. Your ragged breath ripped out as oxygen finally found your lounges, long strings of saliva connecting your mouth to his red and angry cock.

You could feel him losing control of himself in the way his look darkened, his muscles twitching. You eagerly anticipated it. He gripped your jaw and slammed his mouth to yours, spit and precum mingling between you in an open and obscene kiss that was mostly tongue.

He drew you up to straddle his waist with the hand on your jaw and you eagerly obeyed his manhandling.

You splayed one hand on his chest, while the other reached between you to grab his cock and lining it to your entrance. He let his hands glide up your thighs and settle on each ass cheek as he spread them slightly.

You locked eyes with him as you felt his tip breach you, forcing your flesh to yield to his massive girth.

A groan escaped his gritted teeth.

As you tried to lower yourself though, you felt his hands holding you put, not letting you move a centimeter.

You looked down at him, and you saw him smugly cock a brow at your obvious frustration. A needy whine escaped you.

"Tell me what you need, baby," he commanded, almost encouraged.

The cocky bastard was getting off on denying you, enjoying torturing you.

You secretly loved it.

"Come on, baby, tell me. What do you need?"

You knew the questions applied to more than just the serious fucking you craved that moment, and had craved for months now.

"I need you," you whispered, staring into his intense eyes.

He moved you with ease a few inches down on his cock, relishing in your gasp as he stretched you so sweetly.

"Tell me how you feel about me," he demanded, keeping you pinned in place as you squirmed in his grip.

You whimpered in your desperation to be filled.

"I love you, Steve. I love your face, your tongue, your cock. Even your sadistic pleasure at torturing me like this," you gritted out, nails digging into his chest.

He groaned at your words and pushed you down on his cock in one swift motion until he bottomed out inside you.

You struggled to take in air as he kept you put with his hands on your hips, the new torture not being able to get away.

He looked on, eyes hooded as you gripped him like a vice.

"That's it, baby. You need this, you need me. You love me. You’re so good at taking me, swallowing me so greedily," he kept repeating as he rocked you slowly on him, waiting for you to adjust.

"Yes,” you repeated breathily as you started moving your hips in tandem with his hands. Soon he removed them, letting them hover over your waist as you moved on your own, riding him harder and harder.

You started riding in earnest, slamming yourself down on his cock as the squelching sounds of your arousal filled the room.

“Fuck,” he exclaimed. Your chest swelled with pride.

His eyebrows started to raise in a telling way that made you think you were actually gonna make him come, and you moaned at the prospect.

That's when he caught you by surprise, sitting up and flipping you over so you were under him, remaining inside you the entire time.

He wasted no time before he was pounding into you, the bed protesting the vigorous movement underneath, you encouraging it above.

He threw one of your legs on his shoulder, sitting up on his knees to get that angle that always made you see stars.

And boy, was he right on cue. His cock punched right onto your sweet spot and you arched your back, cunt involuntarily squeezing him.

"G-god," you choked out, hands clasping at his thighs, feeling how his taunt, bulging muscles moved under your touch as he fucked into your yielding body, bringing you closer to the edge with every thrust.

You looked up at his face, and saw how his hand reached around your thigh to ghost above your lower abdomen, seemingly contemplating.

You were right on the edge, vision blurred, sweat on your forehead as you looked on.

That's when he ran his fingers through the hair on the top of your mound and closed his fist around it. He took in a sharp, shuddering gasp and his movement faltered for a moment. His brows raised again.

His hand tugged harshly at your pubic hair and to your utter surprise, your orgasm exploded within you, your mouth opening in a small whine as your body went rigid.

Steve groaned deep in his chest before his eyes rolled back. His hand tugged harder on the fistful of hair, sparking your prolonged orgasm with a painful sting.

He gave a few, deep thrusts as his own release coursed through him and into you, filling you up with four months worth of pent up juice.

Through your haze you squeezed his thighs lovingly, nails digging into the skin. He was so goddamn, fucking beautiful.

Steve released his grip on your hair and let his softening cock slip out of you. He collapsed beside you on the bed, one massive, hot hand on your thigh to keep you connected.

You had early on learned that The Captain's love language was touch, and he would usually keep himself physically connected with you at all times during the first 24 hours back from missions - to your varying delight.

You lay there, listening to your pants as you came down from your high. It was all so strange, and all so good.

You turned your head towards him, taking in his glorious side profile with his straight and imposing nose, strong chin and ruff stubble, piercing blue eyes concealed by pale eyelids and a flutter of thick, long eyelashes.

“I gather the bush wasn’t a problem?” you teased.

The way he had reacted to it had been anything other than what you expected. You thought maybe you’d get some mild discomfort, some awkwardness and then just ignoring it all together.

Not ...that.

You mound still stung a bit from his harsh tugging at the end there.

He smiled and turned to meet your eyes, cheeks slightly pink.

“You gathered right,” he said, and averted his eyes in the cutest way possible. You rolled onto his chest and made him look you in the eyes. His hands found your back and started stroking a couple of fingers lightly up and down your spine.

“Where did that come from? If I’d known you’d react like that, I would have grown it out a long time ago!”

He laughed.

“If I’d known, I would have let you know a long time ago. Everyone I’ve been with before you sported the same...baldness as you normally do. And it’s not like I saw a lot og nude dames back in the day, ya know.”

Ah, that answered that question

As your thoughts lingered on his response, he saw his opportunity to grab the back of your head and bring you in for a sweet kiss. Starving and deprived, the kiss soon turned heated, and his tongue effortlessly slid into your mouth as you moaned at the intrusion.

You broke the kiss before it became too consuming, earning a disappointed pout from Steve as you quickly threw yourself from the bed. You pointed a finger at him.

“No, no, no, I am going to shower before you go any further, mister!”

He raised his hands in defense at your tone, but a smirk was playing at his lips.

“Plus, I think I need to shave a bit, don’t you?” you asked innocently.

Before you knew it, he had rushed forward, grabbed your wrist and waist and hoisted you back on the bed, effectively pinning you under his weight, one wrist in each hand at the side of your face. You felt your body humming with energy at his power demonstration.

“You’re not going to shave a goddamn thing,” he said matter-of-factly, though there was a playful tone to his voice.

You giggled at his words, which turned into a gasp as he leaned down and nipped at your neck.

“Do I need to go down there and remind you who you belong to? Eat your wet and hairy pussy like cream, taste my stain as it leaks out of you?” he rasped in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and right to your core. The dirtier side of your Captain still took you by surprise sometimes.

Then your eyes flashed open as realization hit you. Cream.

“Oh my god, Ben and Jerry!” you shouted as you pushed at your restraint, and Steve, ever the intuitive, let you go immediately when he understood the moodshift.

You darted out of the bed and sprinted from the room.

“That better not be someone you're expecting,” Steve called from the room, and you couldn’t control your laugh as you bounded for the discarded grocery bag in the hallway.

As if...

Author’s note: This was my first one-shot, and a hell of a lot of fun. I don’t really remember where the whole pubic hair!kink-idea came from, but once it entered my mind, I couldn’t get it out until it hit the paper. I just imagine Steve being a real lover of natural bodies and natural body hair, ya feel<3 Thanks for reading, love you<3

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x Y/N #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #captain america x reader #captain america x Y/N

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rotshop · 3 years

Text

UGHHH this is so bad. (head in hands) LOOK. look. im sleepy tired and i just needed to warm up w/ something and also took exactly One break during this to grab a dirnk !!! shhh.

This was by far the worst situation you could've been in. Nevadean winters were a simple fact of how it was, but that didn't take any of the bite from the freezing winds. Some years, it would be a decent one, there would be a fair amount of hot and cold days and little snow. Not entirely pleasant, but you could work with it with in relative ease. Other years though, the season seemed to just throw it all at you, shoving everything off the shelves and toppling dominoes to see how you'd fair. It was the cruelest whenever those years came about.

This though? This had to be a fucking joke.

The others had already been on edge about the mission, as you and your partner didn't exactly have the best relationship. There'd been several attempts to switch things around so that threat would be eliminated, but ultimately they'd proven fruitless. So, with great reluctance they went along with it, though Deimos had been particularly adamant on you all meeting back up as soon as possible. He'd been especially antsy and anxious as the mission had drawn ever closer, voicing the most concerns and posing the most questions to you. He wasn't the greatest at hiding his worries when it came to those he considered close, you admired that about him.

It was almost funny with how right he'd been to worry about it. Not only had there been far ore agents and mags than expected, there was also jack shit worth taking. Obviously, this had been some sort of trap in an attempt to catch you all off guard. It'd worked, evidently, just not in the way they'd probably expected. At some point or another, it was decided you all had to get out and go. Sanford was far too injured to continue on, 2b was too stressed to think straight, and you and Hank had the luck of getting trapped on the other side of base.

You didn't exactly feel too surprised when you'd been yanked up by the back of your shirt and thrown into the back of a truck, door slamming shut seconds after. You could see a hoard of agents and mags alike nearing closer, unable to tear your gaze away from them even as your partner got in the driver's seat. There was a bit of commotion from them, barking into the comms. about needing to get out and go. You were still too distracted even when they'd begun to speed off, and far too distracted to hear Deimos' confused shouting get cut.

You could tell it was coming, somewhere in between all the pre-existing stress and dread. It was like your own version of getting a headache shortly before it storms, except all it did was tell you you'd be royally fucked for the next day or few. It was always a little too hard for you to decipher exactly how long it would be, a little too fuzzy of a reading for you to say anything accurate on the matter. All you could tell was that it was coming soon, it wouldn't stop just for your less than friendly company.

Three days. You'd been stuck driving out here for three days now.

Originally, the plan was to drive off until the agents would give up, turn around, and go back to base to find the others. It'd started off easy enough, the agents chasing after you seeming to lose interest in the hunt after a good while, turning and leaving. You weren't sure why at the moment, but the action had shifted something uncomfortably in your chest. It just felt too easy, too convenient.

You'd soon figured it out when the storm had started to kick in. It didn't seem too bad at first, a minor inconvenience that drew a little grumble and a lean forward in their seat from your companion. Then, it'd worsened and worsened. By this point, neither of you knew where you were. Sure, the anti-aahw had been all over Nevada- but that was just of the Nevada they knew about. It wouldn't be far fetched to suggest you'd both gotten turned around and were now god knows where.

Eventually, it was decided there was no progress that could be made here. You'd both have to either hope for a place to stay or that the car wouldn't fair too uncomfortably. Which, considering the lack of space in it and you with far too little energy to get into an argument, the first would be the blessing of the two. It wasn't too long until your quiet prayers from the back seat had been answered, the faintest of outlines among the storm showing some form of shelter. You could already feel exhaustion settling in, far too quickly for your own comfort. By the time Hank had pulled over to walk in, he'd had to reach into the backseat and tug you by the collar of your shirt with an impatient noise, a gentle encouragement laced with the threat of dragging you out.

You were sure you couldn't have pulled your legs further to your chest than you already had. Your spine was already beginning to set with soon-to-be-aches and cramps as you curled into yourself. You'd attempted to keep yourself as taut as possible, not wanting to look as pathetic as you felt in that moment, half-shaking on the cold hard floor of some abandoned complex. Hank had gone off a while ago, leaving you in the lobby to go look for a room to stay in- a room for him to stay in.

You'd lost track of time, too focused on trying to keep it all together as your mind threatened to go blank and shut down. It was the worst when it was like this, where you could only lay and hope for exhaustion to kick you into sleep at one point or another. Your limbs all felt heavy with weight, uncomfortable with just how impossible it seemed to move them. Every part of your body felt locked up, stuck and stiff how it was when you'd dropped down to the floor. You were at least glad you'd fallen to face the door, able to see the snow falling from your position.

Sure, it was the cause of your current estrangement. Yes, it meant you were stuck with the man who hated your guts with a burning passion. Despite all that, it was still pretty. It was surreal to see the sky something other than a burning red, though that oddness was fully welcomed if it meant a break from that damned color.

You'd been snapped out of your daze by a light nudge to your back, you attempted to summon up a sound of acknowledgement- coming up with nothing. The lack of a response earned another, rougher nudge, shoving against your spine uncomfortably. You'd jumped away from the contact with a little mix of a whine and hiss, head jerking back to meet the eyes of your 'assailant.' Red lenses met your gaze, looming over you from your place on the ground.

"Get off the floor and come with me," it wasn't a request. He'd always been especially bossy with you, a little colder and more detached from you. It didn't take a genius to tell he was on less than stellar terms with you.

You didn't have time to stagger up onto your feet, a hand finding its way to the collar of your shirt to yank you up once more. The world spun around you in a haze as you stumbled forward, attempting to re-balance yourself as best as you could in the short breath you were given. Apparently, it hadn't worked well, you ending up crashing into Hank in the process. He'd barely stirred at the movement, still as a statue despite your disturbance. Distantly, you'd noticed how his hands had moved to your back, keeping you upright. You'd also noticed how they weren't a bruising grip on your form-

"....walk?"

You'd blinked. You had no clue what he'd even asked, did he ask anything in the first place? I mean, you could've totally just imagined it. Maybe you were just dreaming already, it happens sometimes..

"I don't ask questions just for you to not answer. Can you walk?"

You'd opened your mouth to speak, shutting it shortly after. Your tongue was like lead in your mouth and your voice seemed to have gone for a walk. You weren't going to play the chances of you not answering again. Instead, you'd simply given a little nod. He was..surprisingly warm, in all honesty. You found yourself leaning further into him, unconsciously nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

He seemed satisfied by the answer, giving a little grunt of acknowledgement before pulling away. You'd caught yourself before you'd fallen, sleep snapping from you momentarily again as reality came back. By the time you found some sort of feelings in your legs again, he was already down the hall, not waiting for you by any means. You were grateful for the little burst of energy that'd found you, stumbling after him quickly.

You were reaching for his arm before you could really even process it, holding onto him once more in a moment of unconscious indulgence. You missed the little curious glance he gave you, and the way he'd pulled his arm (and subsequently you) a little closer to him. Admittedly, you leaning onto him so much did force him to slow down a bit, much to his chagrin. He didn't make any comment about it though. You didn't either, happy to just stay close as you just barely stayed awake enough to continue walking with him.

The mattress felt far more comfortable than the floor.

"Better than laying on tile, isn't it?" Came the sarcastic question.

Nevermind, fuck this mattress.

You'd given a little hum, stirring a bit as you got comfortable. You were still curled up as small as you could, some sort of attempt to salvage what little heat you had. The thin fleece blankets didn't offer much relief from the elements, serving more as an empty pressure laying on you. Despite that though, it seemed you were given some mercy, as you were just edging into unconsciousness.

"I'll be in the next room over so don't be loud, alright?"

You'd nodded slowly. There was a pause. There was an abnormally long pause, to be exact. After a few breaths you could hear the clinking of metal and the shuffling of cloth. Curiously, you'd poked your head up, looking at the man over your shoulder in confusion. He'd met your gaze, pausing for the briefest of moments as he tugged his jacket off.

"What're you doin?..." you'd managed, words slurring together drearily.

He'd given a short 'tsk,' continuing his previous ministrations as he answered. "What I'm doing is making sure you don't go into some little coma on me, I'm not carrying your ass around if you pass out that hard. That's on you."

You'd given a little displeased hum at his words, narrowing your eyes slightly at him. He didn't react. Laying your head back down, you'd sighed in some sort of content, peaceful enough in the deteriorating room. You could feel yourself falling asleep, thought slipping from you as you finally found some sot of rest.

Just before you really fell unconscious though, you could feel the weight of a jacket being draped over you. You could've sworn you felt a hand settle on your arm for a moment, tracing a few shapes and lines idly before reluctantly pulling away. You were so sure you heard the faintest of 'Goodnight,'s before the door clicked shut. You could have just been hearing things or dreaming them up, though. You'd just have to ask him about it in the morning.

#IF THE FORMATTING IS FUCKY ITS BC TUNGLE MADE ME COPY PASTE THIS FROM A DIFFERENT TEXT POST TO SAVE AS A DRAFT #BC IT WOULDNT SAVE .#i hate this site i hate this site i ha (slams my fists so violent and blood hungrilt)#employer reader #hank j wimbleton x reader #hank x reader #madcom x reader #madcom imagines #madness combat x reader #madness combat imagines #rot writes

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aggressive-positivity-network · 3 years

Note

do any of the mercs play board games?

Mercopoly (Board Game

Headcanons)

Scout:

You think he has enough of an attention span to play something that doesn’t involve sweating out his energy drinks?

Hell no!

He gets very bored very quickly, especially with something complex like chess.

He’ll play cards sometimes, but only Crazy Eights and Go Fish - that’s all he knows how to play.

However, there is one true board game he plays occasionally: Candy Land.

It’s one of the few board games that you don’t really have to read the rules for, and there isn’t any writing on the cards.

However, he only asks to play it when he’s not feeling very well.

Medic even has a page in his medical journal for the mercs that says, and I quote:

“The Scout has an extremely short attention span, and if an activity isn’t active or immersive, he will not stay long. If at any point he chooses a sedentary activity, a check-up is in order.”

As sad as it is, a request to play Candyland is a good way to know if Scout needs a little extra reassurance or support.

By the end of the game, Scout usually feels more himself, whether he wins or not.

Engie is especially good with Scout when he’s this way, being the one of the most emotionally sensitive of the group. But he also knows Scout would never admit straight-away how he was feeling, so he usually has a more fun way of getting answers.

“You feelin’ more like a King Candy or a Lord Licorice?”

“...Fudge Monster.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah...”

Spy:

If you ask him, he will most likely go off on a tangent about chess, and how it’s a game of strategy, deception, and crushing your enemy with your wit.

He scoffs at any other game, and constantly makes fun of several of his more intelligent peers for finding interest in them.

“You are mercenaries. Blood-thirsty killers of men. And you are playing ‘Hungry, Hungry Hippos’ like a hoarde of kindergartners?”

But one thing he cannot resist is Sorry.

He considers it above normal board games because it has strategy - or at least that what he says.

He actually just likes it because it’s a game of revenge, which is like a drug to him.

He’s gotten so good at it that if he asks you to play Sorry with him, it’s almost guaranteed that he’s mad at you and just wants to let off some steam by giving you a horrendous loss. However, occasionally, he’s the one who loses.

Spy isn’t a poor sport, exactly - he’s too cultured for that - but sometimes his pride outweighs his manners and he convinces himself that the other player cheated through made up signs of deception.

He simply “allows” them to win because he “doesn’t want to make a fuss.”

But god help the unfortunate soul who decides to rub their win in his face.

Sniper had won five games in a row, and it was clear Spy was getting hot under the collar.

Sniper ended their games with a mischievous, “You’ll get ‘em next time, tiger.” and a small pat on his shoulder.

Spy immediately saw red, grabbed Sniper’s hand, and before the aussie knew it, he was against a concrete wall with a butterfly knife to his throat.

“I could kill you right now. Your final cry for Medic will be drowned in blood, and I would leave you here to die a painful, dramatic death. You’ll be replaced with a rusted trash can of a bot until they could grow another clone of you. Every memory will be gone. The team will be shrouded in grief, not because of losing you, but losing what the clone can never have. And I shall bide my time, ask the clone to play the same game, and kill them when they win. Another clone, another kill. And again. And again. And again. You think the Manns give a damn as long as their work is getting done? You will never be able to form a single thought before I spill your blood - caught in an eternal prisoner’s dilemma where you always lose.”

After gathering his bearings, Sniper finally spoke.

“Is this about your takeout?”

Spy scoffed.

“Do you really think - !”

“Tonight, my treat if you don’t kill me.”

Spy squinted.

“Egg rolls?”

“And an extra order of crab rangoon.”

“Your treat?”

“Yep.”

“How do I know you won’t poison me?”

“Chemical test before and after the food arrives.”

“How do I know Medic isn’t in on it?”

“Miss Pauling as a witness and Scout as an overseer. Pauling’s main objective is to keep us alive, and Scout can’t do bloody anything subtle, even if he wanted to. You can also play back the cameras in the lab, if the mood really struck ya.”

Spy held Sniper against the wall for a minute or two while he thought it all over, then let Sniper fall to the ground.

“I don’t need your sympathy, bushman. But you had better keep your end of the deal. I am the only backstabber around here.”

Demo:

Can’t even stay awake long enough to play most board games.

On the rare chance that he’s sober, he, Engie, and Medic like to play Monopoly.

Here’s the thing: you should never ask a drunkard, an engineer, and a sadist genius to play Monopoly together. It will not end well.

They have been playing the same game for years, with new rules in place and physical extensions to the board in order to try and end the game. Every other Friday, they take the weekend to try and finish it.

However, it all ends up fruitless.

Demo is usually the one keeping the peace, since he is the least competitive out of the three. That isn’t to say he isn’t clawing for the win as much as the other two, but he is definitely the least invested. He’s mostly staying out of principle.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, ‘s ta ne’er give up, e’en when the goin’s gettin’ tough. Roll the dice, doc.”

Despite his confidence, he’s not even sure what he would do if he or anyone else won. It would seem more like a relief than a celebration.

Medic:

He’s the one who started the Eternal Monopoly game, which has led to some theories that the game itself came straight from hell, and is one of the many punishments used on sinners. The box does smell a bit of brimstone…

He seems to enjoy the chaos that each round brings and the challenge of coming up with new rules to the game. To any outsider, his commentary and directions are complete nonsense.

“According to zhe ‘Calvinball Rule,’ as stated by Engineer, and the ‘Double Kill,’ as stated by myself, since the current time ends vis a three and ve all received at least two kills zhis veek, ve need to double every other roll and whomever loses zhe resulting game of ‘Bim Bum’ vill have to go to zhe Purple Jail.”

The rules and mechanics are like an unholy amalgamation of Monpoly, Sorry, chess, D&D, Bluff, and poker.

However, when Medic isn’t stapling pages of rules together, he likes to play a nice, relaxing game of checkers with Heavy.

Both of them are excellent checker players, but neither of them care who wins.

In fact, they usually talk over the game, taking the other player’s pieces as one of them shares a story from that day’s battle.

They’ve even played while Heavy was in surgery - leading to many unfortunate times when Medic had to fish a piece out of Heavy’s intestines.

One would think that a genius doctor would also have a passion for chess, but he expresses his disdain for it almost every time the checker board is brought out.

“Ach, people think chess is such an intelligent sport. Let me tell you, liebling, it is terribly overrated. If zhe devil can play chess, anyvun can. He might as vell just give souls avay, vis those shaky claws of his.”

Engineer:

Being the engineer, he is usually the one to add to the Eternal Monopoly.

Pieces, board extensions, cards, trivia - it gives him a nice break from all the weaponry.

He’s usually the one who remembers all the mechanics and rules, and serves as the judge if rules contradict each other.

“Alright, now let’s see here…we’ve got the Infinity Loop over here, but now you’ve got the Time Travel card…how many years? Infinite? Ho boy…looks like I’m gonna have to add a Hilbert’s Hotel square somewhere. Hold on…”

Despite his affinity for Eternal Monopoly, Engineer will play almost any board game. He learns new rules and figures quickly, and enjoys the challenges that brings.

However, if he’s particularly burnt out, he likes to take a break by playing Jenga. He and Spy have a friendly rivalry, since Engie can tell which blocks are supporting and Spy has quick fingers.

Spy, oddly, is a lot more amiable losing in Jenga - he knows Engie won’t think less of him - but Engineer hates when the bricks fall over. Not because it means he lost, but because, to him, it’s a failure on his part…even if it was someone else that knocked it over.

He’s made several blueprints for the perfect Jenga game, but has concluded that no human hand could put it into practice.

During one particularly bad day, Engie bumped the table, causing the whole column to come crashing down. Spy had already recovered from the noise, but Engie was still standing there, stone-faced.

His eyes were covered by his goggles, but it was clear he was crying.

Several of his machines had broken on the job, and to him, this was just another egregious mistake.

Spy carefully put the blocks back in the container, and Engie came to his senses.

“I’m real sorry, Spy. Maybe another time…?”

Spy only nodded. He was thinking.

The next time they played, Spy brought out a different container.

Instead of wood, the bricks seemed to be made of a sturdy foam.

“They fall a bit more…quietly,” Spy explained. He dropped one, and it only made a small bouncing sound. “Pyro uses these, but they allowed me to borrow it.”

Engie was a bit skeptical at first, since it was a new material, but he got the hang of it rather quickly. He was almost ecstatic the first time it fell - the blocks barely made any sound at all!

After a few games, Spy had to leave for an assignment. Engie put a hand on their arm.

“Thank ya, Spy. Maybe you ain’t the cold-blooded backstabber I thought you were.”

Spy chuckled, but said little else. He didn’t want to admit that noise sensitivity plagued him as well.

Pyro:

Pyro loves board games, and has quite the collection in their room.

Each plastic piece is at least a little melted, and all the boxes have two or three scorch marks.

Hungry Hungry Hippos, Candyland, and Uno are among her favorites.

He is an absolute beast at Uno, though.

They take each game very seriously, especially when they can convince the whole team to play.

As you can imagine, it’s pure chaos - it even led to a rule in the Merc Guidebook: “When playing Uno with three or more players with the inclusion of a Pyro, at least one Mann Co. representative and/or a mediating Medic must be present.”

Pyro has been known the hide cards, bribe players, or even try to set flame to competition. Playing Uno is almost like a mission, with weapon preparation and Spy posing as other players.

The mercs even have a betting stand that Sniper runs. All parties have lost a lot of money that way.

It’s pretty much the only time outside of battle that the team remembers how cruel and malicious Pyro can be.

Sniper:

Conventional board games aren’t exactly his forté, but he does enjoy a bit of cards every once in a while - Solitaire being his favorite.

He even has a pack of cards in his Sniper Square for that exact purpose. It allows him the pass the time without having to look away from his targets too often.

On occasion, he could be pressed to play poker, but only if the stakes weren’t monetary (i.e candy pieces, crackers, duties, etc.).

His favorite part of every match is shuffling the cards. Pretty much every merc could shuffle cards, but Sniper could make them almost float with how quick his fingers and wrists moved. He always began the game with a new trick he learned, which delighted his fellow players (usually Spy, Engineer, Medic, and Demo).

You could always tell if he had a busy day because he would avoid tricks with too much movement, which would be murder on his sore fingers and hands.

Pyro is currently learning card tricks from Sniper, and show off what they learn at the beginning of every Uno game.

Heavy:

He isn’t a huge fan of the bright, plastic-y board games that Pyro has, although he will play them if asked.

It’s mostly because of how complicated the rules are and the fact there are almost never a Russian translation for the directions.

He always prefers checkers, cards, or mancala, which he almost exclusively plays with Medic because he’s the only one who speaks fluent Russian.

Heavy can play a mean game of mancala, though, and it’s the only game he can beat Medic at.

Soldier:

The only games he will play are Battleship and Uno - but only after Miss Pauling convinced him it was “American enough” because the game had red, white, and blue cards.

He prefers the electronic Battleship because of the sound effects and voices. However, if it’s out of batteries, he’ll make his own sound effects.

Miss Pauling is the best at pretending to be a commander, so she’s usually the one playing with him - but, sometimes, Demo gets in on the action, too.

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no-shxt-sherl · 3 years

Text

late night banter

AN I’ve started writing this short imagine a few months ago and finally found the motivation to finish it. I hope you like it.

Summary Corpse’s significant other had a bad day that lead to a spa-session with lots of fluff.

Warnings fluff. lots of fluff (i think)

______________________________________________________________

The days in quarantine seem to be longer than normal. It’s like time is no longer passing in its regular pace. I’ve been up and about all day and work just hasn’t been treating me well today. On my way home I decided that I would treat myself today and call it a selfcare-day. Making some final purchases on my way, my face began to light up a bit more as I neared the all familiar apartment complex. As I was walking into our shared apartment, I could already hear my boyfriend talking in the next room. He is playing video games with his friends and I usually make it a habit to not disturb them. I’m just dropping my bag on the counter and kick of my shoes. Feeling more at ease, I go into the kitchen to make me some tea and to check my socials for anything new going on.

After a few minutes, my tea is ready to serve.

“Babe, is that you?”, he shouts.

“Yeah, it’s me, Bubs!”, I shout back over my right shoulder.

I slightly grin when I hear his soothing voice. That man is my kryptonite, my comfort person. As I’m putting sugar in my tea, I feel two strong arms wrap around my waist from behind. He nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck and I simply lay my head back against his and close my eyes.

“I missed ya”, he speaks into my neck while embracing me tighter. I place my hands on his and begin to draw small circles.

“I missed you more, bubs”, I answered with my eyes still closed.

We stayed in this position for a few minutes and my mood was getting better and better. His hugs work like a stress reliever. I can literally feel the weight falling off my shoulders as I fully relax into his touch.

Feeling stripped of the negative energy that surrounded me before, I turn around in his embrace and sling my arms around his neck. Still smiling, I look into his eyes and admire his beautiful features. I reach one of my hands into his slightly curly hair and pull him down to me, so that our lips connect in a sweet movement. He rearranges his hands on my waist to my lower back and pulls me into him even more. Smiling into the kiss, he begins to shower me with sweet little pecks to my lips and the rest of my face. With an even bigger smile on my face, I welcome the swarm of butterflies back into my stomach and try to playfully escape his lips’ attack. It is sheer unbelievable how I still feel the same as when we first met. He is just meant to be with me and I with him.

“Is your game already over?”, I ask him as I lay my head back to look into his eyes again.

“No, we’re having a pee break just now”, he says still holding me tight.

“You should go back then before they’re wondering where you have wandered off to, bubs”

“Don’t worry about them. They’ll survive. You’re more important”, he answers while taking my face into his hands and planting another kiss on my forehead. I close my eyes and smile into his soft touch. Lifting my own hands up, I place them on his. With my eyes still closed, I grab his hands and bring them down between us. I look at him again and see the worry in his eyes. He was starting to get anxious. With my thumbs, I draw small circles on the back of his hands while holding up our eye contact, trying to reassure him.

“Don’t worry about me. I was going to the bathroom anyways to have a little selfcare-session. Just go back to your game. I’ll be okay. I promise”

I reach up to give him one more kiss to convince him to just go back to his friends and then try to walk away from him. As I was about to turn my back to him, he reaches for my hands and kisses my knuckles. He might not be the best with words, but I know exactly that he is trying to tell me with his actions that he is here for me. I give him an appreciative smile and let go of his hands.

I don’t know how much time has passed since I’ve entered the bathroom, but I took my sweet ass time in the shower and finally dressed myself in fresh and comfy clothes. With my music on full volume, I didn’t notice him standing in the doorway of the bathroom, watching me while I was putting on my face mask to continue my spa-like evening. I was in my own zone and completely gave myself to my music, meaning hips were swaying and my own music video choreography was getting performed. My mood entirely shifted to the better.

Just as I was getting to my favourite part of the current song, a low chuckle caught my attention. I turned around and saw him leaning against the doorframe of our bathroom door with his phone in his hand, its camera focused on me. As I got a look at his face behind the phone, I saw him smile. I love his smile. It took a while for him to fully open up to me and give me an honest to God, almost child-like smile. First time I made him laugh, like laugh for real, I knew he was it. He is my human, my other half.

“Bubs, stop!”, I said, laughing and blocking my face from the camera’s view. He just chuckled again and put away his phone.

“This will be a nice addition to my little collection”

Not knowing what to answer to that I just playfully stuck out my tongue at him which made him smile once again.

“You can be quite childish sometime”, he said while still leaning in the doorway.

“I don’t know what you mean by that”, I said playing dumbfounded while slowly making my way over to him. He didn’t see it coming. As I was finally standing in front of him, I grabbed his head and rubbed my cheek against his. He started to laugh and tried to half-heartedly squirm out of my grip. When he noticed that I won’t let go of him, he started to tickle me. Both of us were just a laughing mess at this point.

I surrendered after a few minutes of his sweet torture and squirmed out of his touch to get a good look at my work. My face mask smeared all over his face as I had planned. He looked ridiculous with light blue stripes of facemask all over his face. I laughed at his dishevelled state.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, bubs. Was that me?” I made fun of him. He just looked at me amused.

“I guess now that it’s already on, we can both get a face mask together” I said all smile-y and innocent, as I turned away from him to grab the container with the facemask in it.

“You could have just asked me to join you, baby” he whispered in my ear as he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I looked up into the mirror in front of us and saw how he smiled at me.

I turned around in his embrace and planted a small kiss on his nose. He scrunched his nose in reaction to my gesture. He looks cute that way. Corpse returned my affection with a small peck to my lips. My heart skips a small beat as we just look at each other in silence. I love him so much. I’ve never felt so at ease with another person in my whole life. He has my heart, my soul, my everything.

“Let’s get our spa night started. My face mask won’t put itself on, babe” he said while bumping his nose against mine. I grinned and started to spread the face mask evenly on his face. Tracing his features and taking in his whole face, as I do so often. He is beautiful.

As I finished putting on the facemask on both our faces and started cleaning up the bathroom, I could still feel his gaze on me. I turned to look at him and raised my eyebrow questioningly. He just smiled back at me.

“I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you with me. I was always convinced that everything in my life is just temporarily - love, friendship, fame – but for once, I feel like this is gonna be permanent. You will be permanent in my life. I never wanna lose you”

I was used to his sudden outbursts of affection but this confession did catch me off-guard. It’s not like we never said that we loved each other. We made each other understand through other non-verbal methods. We know about our mutual feelings, but we’re taking it slow because we both get overwhelmed too easily. I know about his fears and insecurities and he knows about mine. Nonetheless, we never directly talked about our future. I felt my heart grow bigger with every ongoing second. I want this - us - to be permanent as well. He is my home and I wanna be his.

“I love you”

#corpse husband imagine #corpse husband fluff #corpse husband #corpse_husband

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years

Note

What if Bella had met the Volturi's as a child? What would it change and what ties do you think it would have?

It’d change a fair amount, as in, the entire plot of Twilight would have been derailed. Or, that is, it might change nothing at all.

So, we have three options here.

Nothing Changes

Bella is an extraordinarily delicious child visiting Italy and the small medieval town of Volterra.

If Bella doesn’t happen to be on the tour, probably whoever’s looking at her sighs, looks longingly at her delicious blood, and then walks away. The Volturi do not lose control in their own city.

Bella goes on her merry way and Twilight presumably happens. Except maybe Bella goes to Alice, “Oh yeah, Volterra, I went there once. Nifty place, nice buildings.” Alice stares.

Bella’s Eaten

Bella’s an extraordinarily delicious child whose mother thinks it’s a great idea to sign them up for the tour of Volterra castle. It’s a very exclusive tour you know! Bella’s eaten almost immediately, she’s probably fought over, Jane gets one limb and Alec gets another.

Years later, Edward arrives in Forks, his personal purgatory where he listens to the banal thoughts of teenagers. Bella Swan does not arrive. Edward continues to be miserable and depressed.

The Cullens have a game of baseball with James, Laurent, and Victoria. Unfortunately, James recognizes Alice, and is intrigued enough to come after her. Unfortunately, Alice is a vampire and not a human with human relatives to hold hostage. The Cullens murder him, Laurent flees to have sex with the sexy Denali ladies, and Victoria swears vengeance upon Jasper.

Unfortunately, her gift tells her that any attempt to murder Jasper will end up with her dead. Jasper doesn’t give her the time needed to plan. He hunts her down and murders her in cold blood.

Carlisle has the world’s worst weekend.

Edward is still depressed and concludes this is why vampires are abominations without souls. Irina gets to keep her boyfriend, he cheats on the diet and leaves within the year. Irina drowns herself in rebound sex with pretty mortals to try and feel better abou tbeing dumped. It doesn’t work.

Aro Discovers Bella

And this is probably the route you were thinking of.

Perhaps Aro’s taking a midnight stroll with Renata, perhaps he catches Bella on the tour, but somehow he manages to meet her and happens to brush her hand. Suddenly, eating Bella is off the table forever.

Bella’s gift isn’t game changing in the way Alec and Jane’s were, necessarily, but it is something Aro does not want falling into enemy hands and something he may one day need.

He’d probably do something similar to what he intended to do with Alec and Jane. He’d leave her to live her mortal life, keep close tabs on her, and turn her when she’s a young adult (probably around twenty).

Which means Bella returns to America, probably tailed by Demetri, and has no awareness that she is at some poing going to become an immortral blood drinking creature and move to Italy to become a member of an ancient vampire sect.

Bella moves to Forks, she has a run in with Edward Cullen who very nearly eats her, Demetri calls Aro to say “we have a problem”. At first, Aro isn’t too concerned, he’s delighted to hear that Carlisle’s alive and well and my god he has a coven now. Given Edward is Carlisle’s progeny, Aro is probably sure Edward will leave the city completely to avoid temptation and the others will quickly move on.

Edward’s back within the week. He attends school. He sits within a foot of Bella Swan in Biology class.

Demetri at this point probably summons Bella out of school in the middle of Biology with no warning, gets her the hell away from Edward, and has to come up with the world’s most ridiculous lie of why she should never enter within 20 feet of Edward Cullen ever again.

Demetri is a federal agent and Edward is under suspicion of being a sexual predator and serial murderer. Here are all the women who have disappeared in various towns the Cullen family have lived in.

Bella is of course horrified and shocked, but given Edward’s reaction in that first Biology class and his weirdness in the second one...

Aro calls Carlisle. It’s a very awkward talk. Carlisle apologizes for not writing in forever he got... distracted. Aro says it’s fine, no big, CARLISLE MISSED WATCHING THE MOON LANDING WITH HIM. But regardless, Aro is calling to ask him what the fuck.

Aro tells him about Bella, Carlisle is very uncomfortable with this girl having no choice but to become a vampire and no idea what’s going to happen to her, but there’s no talking Aro out of it. He’s even more uncomfortable that he has been begging Edward to skip town but, for some unknown reason that is perhaps pride, Edward is refusing.

“All these worlds are yours,” Aro undoubtedly says, “Except Europa, attempt no landing there.”

In other words, hands off Isabella Swan.

Carlisle tells Edward. Edward is appalled and conflicted. At this point, he’s unwillingly fascinated by Bella but has not yet decided he’s in love. He doesn’t quite have her Carlisle persona crafted yet and so she’s not the saintly figure deserving of worship. Right now she’s just this plain, boring, girl who dared to smell delicious.

So, a part of him thinks it serves her right. Now she will suffer for all eternity as he does. More, he can save face, the monster inside him can go back to sleep for her days are number and he can pretend he’s the wonderful person everyone thinks he is. Everything will remain as exactly as it is. EDWARD IS FINE, THIS IS FINE.

Another part of him panics. First, this girl is condemned to the worst future imaginable. Not only is she becoming a demon, but a blood drinking demon at Blood Drinking Demon HQ. More, if she becomes a vampire, no blood for Edward. And remember, this is a scent he would scour the world for. Edward salivates over the thought of her blood, obsesses over it constantly, and fantasizes over how he will devour her. Suddenly, Edward may not be able to eat her. In canon, the option of eating her is always on the table, and some part of Edward is always thinking about it, always leaving it open. Here, it’s soon to be gone.

Edward probably sneaks into her room at night to watch over her sleep. Telling himself he’s protecting her from meteors but also realizing that he’s there to test his own will power and ponder over the future in which he quietly eats her in the middle of the night.

Now, this can go two ways

Bella wakes up, and that guy Demetri said is a sexual predator targeting her is IN HER BEDROOM LOOKING SCARY AS FUCK. Bella undoubtedly screams bloody murder and tries to hit Edward with something.

Edward panics at the noise and eats her. Then when Charlie comes running he eats Charlie Swan too. The house is an utter blood bath, Edward stands there in a daze knowing the monster inside him has won. He no longer looks anything like Carlisle Cullen (this is a thing Edward does).

Probably though, Demetri is there. Which means Edward has heard his thoughts from the beginning. While Edward has the overconfidence of Gilderoy Lockhart, and tells Bella things like the laws of physics not applying to his driving or that he could beat Jasper in a fight with both hands tied behind his back, usually when push comes to shove he knows where he stands. (He tries to fight Jane in Volterra, it doesn’t go well, and he acts very meek at being confronted by Jane, Felix, etc. When he fights Victoria, he doesn’t fight at all, but just blathers nonsense and it somehow works out for him.)

So, while Edward will tell Jasper later that he totally could have taken Demetri, he’s not going to try.

So, instead, Demetri goes, “Hey buddy, looking for a midnight snack?” and Edward shuffles and petulantly asks, “Aren’t you looking for a midnight snack?!” Edward’s here to protect Bella, you see. Demetri just nods, of course, Edward’s here to protect Bella.

They stare at each other.

Neither leaves.

Eventually, Edward slinks away, feeling very disgusted with himself, angry and Demetri, and internally raging that he didn’t get to eat Bella.

Demetri calls Aro and notes that they’ve got to turn the girl. Demetri cannot watch her 24/7 and this boy is 100% going to eat her. Aro hops on a plane in record time, bringing Renata, and makes an awkward visit to both Carlisle and Bella.

Aro tells Bella the truth about Edward which is... a little different but also pretty scary, the truth about what’s going to happen to her and why it’s important, and anything else she wants to know.

I imagine Bella quietly and stoically accepts her fate.

Edward doesn’t get to eat Bella Swan. He feels very conflicted about it and is filled with self-loathing that he’s conflicted about it. I imagine the Madonna complex he holds for Bella blossoms at this point, and he later comes to Italy with the intent to free her from the Volturi clutches.

This doesn’t work out.

Knowing Edward, his attempts increase in desperation until, finally, he does something very illegal in an attempt to free her and make up for damning her to this life.

The Volturi are forced to execute Edward.

Carlisle gets yet another awkward, terrible, phone call from Aro.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #aro #the volturi #bella swan #demetri #carlisle cullen #edward cullen #anti edward cullen #anti edward/bella #meta #headcanon #opinion

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 3 years

Text

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 4:

You’re paranoid.

Terribly, terribly paranoid, and even if you’re aware of it, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Nothing you can do to quell the anxiety that wells up every time another person enters your space. Every time their skin nearly brushes yours, even accidentally, just for a split second.

It’s maddening. Nearly debilitating the way you’re flinching away from people. You can see your co-workers notice too, fellow nurses suddenly giving you odd looks every time you reject a high five. Even when you’re wearing your gloves. It’s just a panic reaction at this point- a fixation on trying to keep your quirk as least exhaustive an experience as it can be.

On one hand, you still really dislike Bakugou- nearly hate him for bringing it up to you- but, on the other hand, he did manage to figure it out. He somehow managed to figure out what you never could, and all in a matter of minutes from your relatively short interactions. It made you think that maybe he could be really smart- if he didn’t spend so much time killing his own brain-cells with every juvenile insult he spewed at you.

You wondered if that was just him, or he really did hate you that much. Surely he couldn’t be that much of a monster to other people, right? Right?

Wrong.

You remember Kirishima, how he apologized for Bakugou nearly the second he walked through the door. It hits you then that you’re definitely not the first person he’d seemed to mercilessly terrorize- you’re not sure if that makes you feel better or worse.

Actually, on second thought, maybe it makes you feel worse. No, it definitely makes you feel worse. So much worse, in fact, that just the sight of his face nearly sends you into an irrational rage. Even now, weeks after the last time he’d personally ruined your day, you were still mad. Still angry. Still cursing every time you saw those red eyes on every billboard, newspaper, and billboard in town.

Well, lucky for you, you didn’t have to look at those printed eyes anymore. Not when the real ones were right in front of you- scaring you shitless as you leave the hospital.

You had left the hospital from the back exit, tired and crabby from your late shift, grumbling as you stepped out into the alleyway. You’d hardly seen him, just the slightest glimpse of movement behind the tall dumpsters, before he’s practically in your face.

“Jesus!” You gasp, curling your arms around your stomach. Your legs feel like jelly. “Don’t do that! Scared me half to death!”

“Oh, chill the hell out, ya fuckin’ baby. You’re fine.” Bakugou rolls his eyes, falling into step next to you.

He looks worse for the wear, just like every other time you’ve seen him, exhaustion coloring his complexion something sickly. There’s an angry purple bruise covering his cheek, a few cuts, and even more bruising dotting his scarred knuckles. A tiny, vindictive part of you thinks it serves him right, but you keep it to yourself. You’re better than that.

You want to be nice to him, truly you do, but he’s made it pretty hard. Concerning you, Bakugou’s pretty much dug his grave at this point, and he only makes it worse with his next works.

“You need to do something for me.” He orders suddenly. “Now.”

“A-are you asking me? For help? Is that what this is?”

“What? No- obviously fucking not.” He sneers, nostrils flaring. “Why the hell would I go and do something like that. That’s stupid. Weak.”

“Oh. Okay. So then two seconds ago, when you were telling me that I ‘need’ to do something for you, what was that?” You squint your eyes at him, eyebrow twitching with annoyance. “That wasn’t you asking for help?”

“No. ‘s an order.”

“Oh. Yeah. Okay- an order. Because you’re totally in a position to make those.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.” You spin on your heels, nearly crashing into his chest since he followed so closely behind you. Still, you figure the promixity is all the better for gesturing, so you don’t miss a beat, waving your hands emphatically. “My shift just ended, alright? That means I’m not on the clock, and you’re not a patient. I don’t have to suck it up and help you unless I want to. Understand?”

Bakugou seems to bristle at your tone, eyes narrowing as his lip curls. You just try to shrug it off. If he wants to be mad in the middle of the alley, fine- but you’ve had a long day and you’re going home. You spin around again, walking briskly into the street, and it takes him a few moments to catch up.

“I told you, Bakugou, I’m not helping you just because you tried to order me to.”

“I know.”

“Then what’re you doing?”

“Walking.”

It’s his tone; that same needling, challenging edge to it that has your blood boiling. If anyone else said that, you’d probably believe it. But he’s not just walking and Bakugou’s smirk makes that very clear.

“No. You’re following me.”

“Same fuckin’ direction. Sue me, leech.”

The street lamps cast spots that yellow out his already pale skin, and the longer you walk the more withered he looks. Bakugou seems utterly burnt out, and when you look really close, all his features are slumped. It’s a stark contrast to Dynamite’s turbo-charged public persona, and it makes you wonder why he’d even let you see him like this at all. You figure whatever it is must be making him pretty desperate.

Suddenly that same, sinking, sympathetic feeling has you letting up a bit. You slow your pace, catching his gaze as you internally curse your own soft heart.

“Okay. Fine. What’s up. What can I help you with?”

Bakugou squints his eyes, almost like he doesn’t believe you. You think that’s a little fair- most times, even you can hardly believe all that you’re capable of forgiving.

“Sleep.” He finally says, bitten out tightly under his breath.

“You want me to help you sleep?”

“Yes. Obviously.”

“Not obvious.”

“Would be if you weren’t such a shitty nurse.”

“If that’s supposed to be a dig- save it.” You roll your eyes, trying to tamper down the irritation. “I did notice. That you look tired. Just didn’t mention it out of kindness, so don’t think you can start bringing my skills into question.”

You turn down another side street, and Bakugou follows. There’s less light so you miss the way his eyes scan the lurking shadows; intense and immediate, like a habit he can’t help himself from indulging in.

“You really live around here?” He suddenly asks, voice low and gruff.

“Yep. In the apartment complexes just up there.” You point off into the distance. “Why-”

“And your shift always end this late?”

“Yes?”

“God,” He laughs something disbelieving under his breath, rolling his eyes at you. “I was fuckin’ right. You really are the stupidest goddamn person walking the planet.”

“That’s- Do you ever think about your words? Seriously!” You huff, curling your fists. You hope it’ll quell your sudden urge to hit him. “Just because you think it, doesn’t mean you should say it! And who the hell are you to judge anyway-”

“You’re fuckin’ asking to be attacked. That’s stupid. ”

“By who?”

“Weirdos, idiot.”

“You’re the weirdo! You’re the one following me home right now!”

“I’m not following you-”

“Really? You’re not? Because right now, the way you’re walking? Maybe all of two steps behind me? On a dark street? At night? Sort of seems like creepy following is exactly what you’re doing!”

“I told you, you need to do something for me. Not leaving till you do.” He grumbles, digging a bruised knuckle into his temples. “And keep it the fuck down. Your screaming sounds like a dying animal.”

“My-” You seethe for a moment, hardly able to stand his attitude. Then you take a breath because you prided yourself on being a kind person, and kind people do not kill national heroes- even when they’re being asses. “You know, it is almost unbelievable how bad you are at asking for help.”

“Told ya, already. ‘m not fuckin’ asking for help.”

“Then why are you even here bothering me? Go bother someone else!”

“If fuckin’ anyone else could do anythin’, believe me, I’d go to them instead.”

“God, do you even understand how rude that is?” You ask him incredulously, hand grasping at the door to your apartment building. “No, seriously, are you even aware of what you sound like to other people?”

“Not my fuckin’ problem that other people are sensitive.”

Your eyes bulge at that, mouth nearly dropping in disbelief. You couldn’t believe him. You just couldn’t believe that a single person could possibly go through life with that callous of a mentality. It was insanity. Pure insanity.

“So, leech, you gonna put me to fuckin’ sleep or not?”

Just kidding- that was insanity. That sentence alone was proof of just how ridiculous your life had gotten since he’d crash landed into it.

Bakugou seems to realize his words simultaneously, his cheeks flushing red under the outdoor lights. You almost laugh, but then he’s glaring, eyes sternly set and murderous. For a moment, you really believe he was gonna blow you up right where you were standing.

“Say a goddamn word. Do it. I fuckin’ dare you. Leech.” He sneers. “Try me.”

“At this hour? No, uh, no thanks.”

Bakugou does seem to relax at your joke, albeit begrudgingly. He drops his shoulders, rolling his eyes, and clears his throat. “Now, seriously, you gonna fuckin’ do it or not?”

A part of you wants to say no- to hold your gift over his head, to lord it just out of reach until he figures out how to not insult you with every breath. Then you think of your job, of all the civilians who come in swearing up and down that Dynamite was a hero. And you believe them, truly, but you think that Bakugou has a long way to go. An especially long way.

But, even so, your fingers are itching again in your gloves. There’s that urge coursing through your veins, your thoughts a constant loop of heal, help, save and so it’s decided. Quickly. Almost like it was never even a question in the first place- and, knowing yourself, you suppose it never really was.

“Fine. I will. On one condition.”

“Condition? When the fuck did I say it was a negotiation. It’s not.”

“It is and I’ll tell you why.” You spin to face him completely, jumping back when you find him much closer than expected. Your retreat till your back hits the door, but you feel no less cramped than before. “You need me. You do. Don’t bother denying it because you wouldn’t be here otherwise. And the funny thing is, I would’ve done it! Would’ve done it entirely free of charge if you just asked nicely, and-”

“Will you get to the fuckin’ point already?”

“See! That! That’s why there’s a condition! Because you’re needlessly rude! All the time from what I’ve seen. And that’s got to change. Especially if you’re gonna ask for my help more than just this one time.”

“God- how many fuckin’ times do I need to make this clear to you? Hah?” Bakugou growls, leaning in even more. You can see it in his wild eyes- he’s trying to scare you, crowding you against the door. “I’m not asking. I’m telling you- You don’t make the fuckin’ rules here.”

“In this I do.” You swallow nervously, trying not to let your intimidation show. “So you’re gonna listen. My condition is this- if you want me to help you, then you have to learn to play nice. That means no names, no insults, no threats, no complaints, and no attitude. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

Bakugou swears under his breath, eyes blazing as he holds his stare. Truthfully, it makes you nervous, but you’re not one to back down. At least, not when there’s no threat of job loss involved. So you just squint back at him, jutting your jaw out in defiance. There’s a tense few seconds of silence, his eyes searching, but then he backs off. Nostrils flaring like a bull, Bakugou relents.

“Fuckin’ fine. Whatever. Jesus.” He swears, hand curling into a fist at his side. “If you’re gonna be such a bitc-”

“I said, no names, Bakugou.”

He just rolls his eyes, face so very pinched, and you briefly wonder if he’s going to explode. There’s anger as he suddenly shoves you away from the door, yanking it open and letting himself into the building. Then he’s stomping through the lobby, and you’re hardly able to catch up by the time Bakugou stops in front of the elevator.

“What fuckin’ floor, leech?”

“Once again, I said no names. None. Especially not that one.” You tell him sternly, trying to keep your voice down. “And you didn’t agree. You’re not following me and I’m not helping you unless you agree.”

If possible, you think Bakugou’s expression grows even more irritated, his eyes widening as he sets his jaw. Another few seconds pass, and when he sees you won’t relent, Bakugou nods. It’s tight and strained, stunted like the acquiescence physically pains him.

“God, you’re lucky I’m nice.” You tell him, nearly stabbing the elevator button as you press it. “Really lucky.”

“And you’re lucky I don’t have enough energy to beat the shit out of you right now.”

“No threats, Bakugou. You agreed.” You say easily, stepping into the elevator as it opens.

“Had to. Because your fuckin’ terms are bullshit.”

“Hey, no complaints. You agreed to that too.”

You think you hear something strangled leave his mouth, but it’s swallowed up by the sound of the elevator ascending.

Now that you’re standing in better lighting, you can see Bakugou’s face clearly. He looked bad before, but he looks worse now. There wasn’t just one bruise on his face, there was multiple- his jaw colored burgundy and his nose and lip split open. There was no blood, but there wasn’t a lot of scabbing either. It was new. These injuries were new.

You think back to that first visit- when he told you he never really got hurt. You wonder what’s been going so wrong for him lately. It seemed like all he’d done since you’d met him was get hurt.

“Stop fuckin’ staring.”

“I-I’m not. Not like that.” You say. “I’m assessing. You’re gonna need a butterfly bandage, on your nose- skin moves too much. And a cold compress for your jaw. Maybe some disinfectant on your lip. Probably should get your knuckles wrapped too and-”

“Jesus, I fuckin’ get it.”

You roll your eyes, ready to retort, but then the elevator dings. You walk out into the hallway, Bakugou trailing behind you like a shadow. It’s not until you’re at your door, twisting your key into the lock, that you pause.

You’re about to enter your apartment, with Bakugou of all people. A guy you’re not even sure can tolerate you. And yet you’re doing it- because he needs help. Because he looks like walking death and you’ve got a first aid kit under your bathroom sink. Because he’s pretty much proved himself to be an irredeemable asshole, but yet you still can’t bring yourself to leave him out in the cold.

Because you’re an empath, and that, by default, makes you an idiot.

You turn the key. Bakugou, to his credit, looks a little uneasy, but then you’re waving him through the door, and pushing it shut behind him.

“So, you wait here.” You gesture towards your couch, moving aside a few pillows to make him room to sit. “I’m gonna go get all that stuff I talked about.”

“So, what, you’re just like playing fuckin’ nice nurse again, now?”

“Bakugou. No attitude please- I am nice, okay? All the time. Or, at least when others are nice to me.” You say, levelling him with an unimpressed look. “And even if they’re not, I still don’t like seeing them hurt. Not if I can do something about it.”

“I don’t want your fuckin’ help.”

“No, but you need it. And since you’re too stubborn to ask for it, I’m just gonna have to force it on you.”

“Do you even fuckin’ hear yourself?” Bakugou prickles, voice rising. “Acting like a goddamn savior. Like you’re so fuckin’ good and holy. It’s bullshit.”

“It’s not.” You say flatly. Then you’re pivoting on your heels, leaving him behind and you grab the first aid kit. You open the bathroom door, calling over your shoulder. “And if you have such a problem with it, then leave. Nobody is keeping you here.”

You hear Bakugou swear again, so angry and seething that you almost believe he’ll take you up on your offer; but then you hear footsteps across the floor, the creaking of your couch.

You reach under your sink, pulling out the kit and a few extra rags for a compress. When you look in the mirror there’s exhaustion lacing your features, your eyes worn and dark with bags. The sight makes a part of you want to forget it all- makes you want to surrender to the ache in your bones and tell him to leave; but that’s just a small part. The larger part is telling you that you’re not spent until you’re unconscious, and that right now, Bakugou looks a whole lot worse than you feel. It’s telling you to hurry up and help him and you agree.

When you walk back out, supplies in hand, Bakugou’s slumped on your couch. He’s got his head tilted over the back, one hand resting on his stomach and the other thrown over his eyes. He shifts at the sound of your approach, dropping his hand and as blinks blearily. You think his eyes look a little duller than before- less like raging wildfire and more like smothered embers. If you didn’t know any better it would look like begruding acceptance- but this was Bakugou, and you knew better.

“So,” You start, setting all of your things down on the couch next to him. “You wanna go to sleep now? Or wait until after I fix up pretty much the entirety of your face?”

He looks at you unsurely, eyebrows creasing.

“Wait, actually- how are you planning to get home?” You continue, hands on your hips. “Where do you even live? Around here? Close? Because you were out in like, 10 minutes, maybe, the last time I touched you, so it’s gotta be close. You live close right? Because-”

“God, cool it with the fuckin’ word vomit. Shit’s annoying. Shut up.” He grumbles. “I’m sleeping here.”

“Who decided? You?”

“Yeah. Obviously.”

“Bakugou.” You balk, striding closer to the back of your couch. You lean over him, forcing him meet your eyes. “This is what I’m talking about! With the learning to play nice thing! I would’ve let you stay here, I would’ve, had you asked. You can’t just bulldoze your way into my house and refuse to leave!”

“Yeah? ‘n just what the fuck are you gonna do about it if I do?” He scoffs, curling his lip as he snarls. “Nothing. Because you’re so fuckin’ nice, right?”

“Don’t say it like that. It’s not a bad trait and I won’t have you insulting it. I’m not embarrassed of who I am.” You try to work through your frustration, centering yourself with a deep breath. “Look, bottom line is, ask next time. Or I’m not helping you until you do.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

You try to shrug off his petulant response, taking another calming breath as you shuck off your gloves. You replace them with latex ones from the kit, pulling the material over your fingers as you grab the antiseptic wipes. You decide to start around the cut on his nose. It’s the largest and widest, spanning over the entirety of his bridge and into his right cheek. It’s a nasty thing, deep and red, all exposed nerves beneath a thin scab and you can tell it hurts him. Bakugou fights to keep from wincing, eyes scrunching slightly as you wipe the remnants of dirt and oil from his skin.

“This from another villan?” You ask calmly, finding an easy peace in performing familiar tasks. “One today?”

“Cuts are from today. Bruises were yesterday.”

Blinking down at him, you’re a little surprised by how easy his answer was. You expected him to fight, to be difficult just because he could, but Bakugou wasn’t doing that. He was lying relatively and still and sated under your fingertips, the only sign of any tension are his minutely pinched eyebrows. Briefly, you check your gloves- for a moment there you were sure you’d accidentally touched him.

“Oh. Okay.” You reply, taking a small butterfly bandage from your kit. You press it over the cut with gentle pressure. “How’s the other guy look?”

“Fuckin’ terrible. Beat ‘em to hell.”

“I’m sure you did.” You snort, moving on to clean the cut on his lip. “Hey, you wanna know something?”

Bakugou peeks a red eye open, studying your face above him. He nods.

“I actually end up treating a lot of your victims, you know.”

“Criminals. Not victims.”

“Mhm. Sure. Well, either way, they’re always covered in burns. Mostly minor, but sometimes pretty nasty ones.” You try to keep your voice light, even and steady as you dab at his lip. “Honestly, at this point, I’m pretty sure you’re entirely responsible for the hospital’s chronic burn-cream shortage.”

Bakugou does seem to smile at that, exhaling through his nose as his eyes flutter briefly. “Wouldn’t be fuckin’ short if people just stopped tryin’ to pull stupid shit all the time. ‘s not my fault they’re so fuckin’ bad at running away.”

“Bakugou.” You balk, unable to keep the laugh from bubbling out your lips. “You can’t say that!’

“Why the fuck not? Hah? It’s true.”

“Because! You’re supposed to be playing nice, remember?”

“Yeah. To you.” He mumbles, voice rough and raspy. “Because you fuckin’ schemed your way into forcing me. They didn’t.”

“Okay- First, I’m like, pretty sure schemed and forced are the same thing, so we definitely don’t need to say them both. It’s just overkill. Second, that’s a borderline insult, so I’m gonna need you to watch your mouth. And third,” You cradle his jaw in your fingers, turning it to the side. “How the hell did you manage to get a bruise behind your ear?”

“I don’t know- probably the same way you somehow managed to become a nurse; even with such shitty fuckin’ bedside manner. You suck, leech.”

Your jaw drops.

“Bakugou!”

He cracks his eyes open, something small and pleased settling at the corner of his mouth. There’s almost as much venom in his voice as before but his eyes are softer now. They’re kinder, crinkling just slightly at the edges.

He’s joking. You realize. He doesn’t actually mean it. Not this time.

“You dick.” You reprimand, flicking his hairline lightly. “You absolute dick.”

His eyes just seem to grow a little brighter at that, just for a second, and then he’s shutting them again. There’s still a smirk on his face though- one you’d swear you’d slap off if he wasn’t actually being somewhat pleasant right now. For once in his life, it seemed.

“Alright,” You announce, rounding the couch quickly. “Your knuckles look just as bad so give ‘em.”

“No thanks.”

“It wasn’t really a suggestion.”

“I don’t need anymore of your pity help, leech.”

“It’s not pity. Not even a little bit.” You sigh. “Look, I know you’re not gonna understand this, but I seriously cannot chill the hell out without at least trying to take care of people. My quirk makes my fingers literally itch when I see injuries. They itch and they don’t stop itching until I do something about it. Helping people, healing people, is hard-wired into me- it’s as much something I do for me as it is something I do for others.”

Bakugou’s eyes widen at that. He sits a little straighter, fists clenching as he presses them into the cushions. A few beats pass and then he’s grumbling, throwing himself back as he thrusts both of his injured knuckles forward.

“God, you’re so fucking irritating.” He gripes. “If you’re gonna be such a weirdo about it, then get the hell to it already.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, instead kneeling next to your coffee table and settling on the ground. You take his hands in yours, bending all his fingers to make sure nothing is broken. When nothing is, you look up at Bakugou, planning to tell him the good news, but he’s already looking at you. Your eyes meet, and he blinks, once, twice, before averting his eyes quickly. You think that maybe he blushes too, but he turns his head so sharply you’re almost convinced you imagined it.

You just try to shrug it off, focusing your attention back on his hands. You notice how warm they are again, nearly feverish and strangely unblemished. When you start rubbing bruise cream over knuckles, kneading the joints between your fingers, Bakugou sighs slumps back into the couch. He closes his eyes once more.

“Are you falling asleep?”

“No. Can’t. Fuckin’ told ya already.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me why.” You set his hands back on the couch, moving instead to unravel a bandage. “Not that I won’t help you, but have you tried any other remedies? Melatonin? Or lavender? Maybe chamomile? Any of those?”

“Mhm. Falling asleep isn’t the problem.”

“Then what is?”

He opens his eyes, squinting at you from above. “None of your fuckin’ business.”

“Bakugou, I’m trying to help here.”

“I don’t want-”

“Yeah. I know. You don’t want it. Or you don’t want to rely on it. I get it. But you wouldn’t have even came here if you didn’t absolutely need it, right?” You insist, grabbing his hands into yours again. “God, you know, I’ve had toddlers who were more cooperative than you. Why’re you so difficult?”

“I’m not fuckin’ difficult.”

“No. You’re difficult. Very difficult.”

“And you’re fuckin’ annoying. Do me a favor and go back to being nice.”

“Nope. Sorry. Pretty sure you didn’t like me then either.” You start wrapping the bandage around his knuckles, taking extra care to apply the right pressure. “And I was only nice to you because I was working, you know. I’m only actually nice to the people who deserve it.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes at that.

You finish wrapping the bandage, securing it into place with a bit of medical adhesive. All things considered, Bakugou looks better than before. Or at least, better than the death incarnate he’d been portraying himself as.

“All done.” You smile, turning away to start packing up your supplies.

“Finally. Took ya fuckin’ long enough.”

“God, you are literally devoid of manners, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. ‘s part of not bein’ an absolute bitch.”

You gawk, spinning around to face him. Bakugou’s relaxed into your couch, arms laid across the back leisurely as he smiles. There’s that same softness to his eyes from before, the crinkling just at the edges.

“Wow.” You scoff, smiling sarcastically. “You really think you’re so funny don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Yeah. Because you’re fuckin’ brainless.”

“Brainless? Me? Swear to god, you only know, like, three words and all of them are probably swears!”

Bakugou just shrugs, looking abnormally pleased. Content even. You figure that’s probably right for someone like him- only happy when everyone around him is devolving into chaos.

“Actually, you know what, I think I’m done yelling for the night.” You say, shucking your gloves off. You wiggle your fingers at him, a smirk plastered across your face. “I think it’s time you’re euthanized, don’t you?”

Bakugou just blinks, minutely shrinking away from you.

“Because you said you wanted me to put you to sleep, right? To put you down. Like a dog.” You continue, nearing him, coming close even as his lip curls up. Bakugou is glaring fully now, fists clenched, and you stop just a few inches out of his reach. “Or, you know, in ruder terms- not a dog, but a bitch.”

Bakugou snarls, lunging at you as you duck away. He’s fast but you’re faster, vaulting behind your couch to create some distance. There’s fire in his eyes, blazing and hot in his irises, but it isn’t scary. If you look close enough, you’re almost sure it’s just warmth. That same rare amusement from earlier.

“You leech. Swear to fuck I’ll make you regret that. Say your goddamn prayers!”

“Touch me and you’ll fall asleep!” You tease. “Or I’ll use my quirk and see into your brain. So I guess it’s more of a ‘pick your poison’ for you, really.”

“It’ll be the same for you.” Bakugou growls, hands grasping the back of the couch as he leans in towards you. “Open casket or closed, it’s still gonna be your fuckin’ funeral.”

“Really?”

“Really. Leech.”

“No thanks.”

“What the fuck do you mean ‘no thanks’,” Bakugou mimics your voice, his features twisting. “I’m killing you. You’re dead. You don’t get a choice.”

“No, I really think I do.”

“And just what the fuck makes you so goddamn confident?”

“This. You not attacking me.” You smile easily, voice daring as you stare right back at him. “If you really wanted me dead, I’d be dead. Isn’t that right, Dynamite?”

The name sends Bakugou recoiling, shrinking backwards and scoffing in outright shock. You watch him stumble, legs hitting your coffee table and nearly causing him to fold. He recovers quickly though, albeit with his cheeks flushing wildly.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Nah. Thanks for the offer though.” You smile brightly, before throwing your arms above your head and yawning widely. “As fun as that was, I’m pretty tired. You ready to fall asleep, yet?”

“Jesus fuck, yes. That’s the entire goddamn reason I’m even here. Idiot.”

“No name calling. You agreed.”

“I didn’t agree to shit.”

“You did.” You affirm. “Now, c’mon, like last time, hold your hand out.”

With surprisingly little dramatics or resistance, Bakugou listens. He thrusts one of his bandaged hands forward as he sits on the couch again. When you touch his fingers, you feel that faint warmth again. Like fire and embers coursing through your bloodstream. It’s uncomfortable, a relentless sensation that has you cringing. You briefly wonder what it would be like to always live with it. Like Bakugou seems to.

His eyes flutter shut just like last time, and you can see the way he staggers. It’s like the fight leaves him entirely, and then he’s falling boneless into the couch. You can hardly place a pillow onto the cushions before he’s driving his head into it.

“Jesus,” You mutter in disbelief. “How long has it been since you slept? You look dead.”

“Weeks.” Bakugou mumbles.

“Since the last time?”

“Mhm.”

If his words alone didn’t confirm the severity of his sleeplessness for you, his response time did. Bakugou answered quickly, without fight, like he’d been wanting to spill for the entire night. And, you suppose, maybe he did; or was trying to. In hindsight, you begin to realize a lot of his screaming could just as easily have read as cries for help- not that you’d ever tell him that. You’d probably have to prepare a will if you ever tried telling him that.

“You want a blanket?” You ask a little unsurely, not exactly confident in your approach to this entirely different Bakugou. “All you’re getting is the couch, but I could probably scrounge up a few blankets.”

Bakugou doesn’t respond. All you hear in response are tiny little snores and slow breathing.

You find it reminds you of the last time- the way you’re reaching into a cupboard and grabbing out a blanket for him. Except this time, it’s a little bit different. Somehow you’re settling the blanket over him with a little bit of genuine kindness instead of begrudging sympathy.

After all, you can’t help but feel a little bit of pity- no one would ever fall asleep that fast unless they really needed it. Especially not in a stranger’s house.

--/--

enjoy my lovelies :))

taglist: @fluffyviciousbunny @definitelynottrin @imsuperawkward @i-need-air @ahbeautifulexistence @brennabooz @jazzylove @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @katsuki-bakubabe @sorrythatspussynal @bakugouswh0r3 @cloudsgathering @un-limit-edd @thekatsukisimp @pollayra21 @the2ndl @officialtrashbusiness @waffleareniceandfluffy @monempathieetmoi @koiwoshinai

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #bakugo #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou fic #bakugou series #bnha fic #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #mha fic #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x y/n

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hockeywhhores · 3 years

Text

outlaw- m. tkachuk

Matthew Tkachuk x f!Reader

warnings~ swearing, miscommunications, alcohol consumption

summary~ The wags don’t really like you, what happens when they decide to stir shit up?

genre~ pre-established relationship, angst

word count~ 3K

Valentine’s week masterlist

main masterlist

remember that this is all fiction! I don’t think any of them would actually act like this!

Matthew knew of the reputation that preceded him. His nickname was Chucky, for god’s sake. Having such an evil reputation never bugged him off the ice until he met you. You never made him feel bad for the way he acted, in fact you were always defending him. Social media was not kind to him, and when you started dating him, social media also turned on you. Nasty tweets were always being thrown your way, but you just let it all roll off your shoulders. Your stubbornness always drew in Matthew. He loved how you didn’t take shit from anyone. Yet it messed with him, because he knew you were only taking all this shit because of him.

“Babe, I’m done getting ready!” you hollered from down the hall. Effectively pulling Matthew from his thoughts while he was semi-watching some sports channel. He heard your heels on the hardwood floor first, then he saw the mini sparkly black dress you were wearing. The dress was something you bought a couple months ago, but it still took his breath away whenever he saw it. It hugged you in all the right places, and the neckline plunged perfectly, catching the roundness of your boobs. “Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies.” He gaped at you like a fish, and you just laughed.

“You look gorgeous.” Matthew finally found words, but still didn’t think they were strong enough.

“You look handsome as always.” you smirked back, looking him up and down. Matthew was wearing a black t-shirt that captured how big his arm muscles were. His jeans also made his ass look great.

“How did I ever get you?” he rhetorically asked. You just shrugged and then grabbed his hand, dragging him out of the house. He locked the door, and you went down the elevator and to his car. The drive was perfectly fine with the radio station playing all the right songs with little ads.

The flames had their longest rest period of the season, so a lot of the guys were out tonight with their wives. You talked with one wife, before making your way to the actual bar. Matthew had made it up there before you and had already ordered. They served your drinks to you quickly. Then you dragged Matthew to the dance floor. You were moving your body against his, and just having a good time. Dancing like that for a couple more songs before you had to go to the bathroom. You tried to make your trip to the bathroom quick, but slowed when you heard some wag. The voice sounded like Katie’s, talking about you and Matthew. You kept hidden in the stall, trying to hear everything before you showed yourself.

“I don’t get what they see in each other.” Katie’s high-pitched voice was bouncing off the walls. “I mean, she looks like a slut, and he has some major anger issues.”

“I know right, did you see the dress she was wearing?” the second voice sounded like Jessica’s. “And how she was dancing on him. Doesn’t she know he is just going to leave her? I bet they will only last one more month, and then they are done.”

“With his track record, give it another week and he will be onto the next girl that will spread her legs for him.” Katie’s voice sounded off. You were sick of hearing what they were saying and showed yourself. You stepped out of the stall, and their heads snapped in your direction. You just smiled too sweetly and went to wash your hands.

“I would suggest you make sure you’re alone before you talk shit about other people.” You happily informed them.

“Why should we? You know we’re right. You just can’t admit to yourself. Matthew will never change his fuckboy ways for a girl like you.” Jessica was the brave one and spoke on her and Katie’s behalf.

“I’m not trying to change him, because he doesn’t need changed. So I suggest you shut your mouths, or at least know what you are talking about before speaking.” you walked out before they could say anything else. You went back over to Matthew, who was now sitting at the table talking with his teammates. You waved at him, and whoever he was talking to, then went to the bar to get something stronger. The bartender served you the shots you ordered, and then you went to go sit with Matthew. You would not let them ruin your night. Johnny talked with you, while Matthew continued his conversations with Mark.

“This season is getting crazy! It feels as if we have no rest time.” Johnny confessed to you. You nodded your head in agreement.

“It feels like that, because it is. You get like half a night to rest, before another practice or game.” you agreed with him.

“Hey, Isn’t that Chucky’s ex?” You heard Katie asked. You didn’t even realize that she was back at the table. Nevertheless, Matthew’s ex, Kelcie, was at the bar talking with the bartender. With her showing up and the conversation you had with them in the bathroom, you suspected them of inviting her. Matthew’s head snapped towards the bar, and you felt yourself stiffen. You had no hard feelings towards Kelcie. She was actually really nice to you whenever you had previously talked.

“Let's invite her over.” you suggested. Matthew was the one to stiffen at your suggestion. “Hey! Kelcie! Come sit with us!” you hollered at her. She heard you and came over. “How are you?” you asked in a sickly sweet tone. Patting the chair next to you, showing for her to sit down.

“I’ve been doing well. How is everyone else? The season looked good, but I bet you are all ready for the offseason.” Kelcie politely sat down.

“I’ve heard you kept busy, Kelcie.” Katie was the one to speak up in the awkwardness. “Does last Saturday ring a bell?”

“No. Last Saturday didn't ring a bell.” Kelcie looked genuinely confused.

“I heard you and Matthew had a nice dinner together.” Katie insisted. You felt Matthew to go stiff as a board, and you knew it was true. You quirked up your eyebrow, showing your interest in the conversation.

“We just had dinner and a glass of wine.” Kelcie quickly threw out. You looked back at Matthew sitting on your other side. He was already looking at you with guilty eyes.

“If you say it was just dinner, I believe you.” you concluded. “Sorry Katie, if you want me gone, you are going to have to try a lot harder.” If it was just dinner, then Matthew wouldn’t have lied about who he was having dinner with, but you would not let Katie win.

“I think we better get going, y/n” Matthew grabbed the back of your arm, pulling you out of your seat.

“Bye everyone! Kelcie, we need to grab some lunch soon!” You shouted out before Matthew could get you far enough away. “Why are we leaving, Chucky?” you asked, your voice as sharp as a knife. He just led you to the car. “If it was just dinner you didn’t have to lie to me.” you mumbled out.

Matthew was silent throughout the entire drive. The radio wasn’t even playing, and you were getting increasingly more worried. Why wasn’t he answering you? You were never so happy to see his apartment complex. No one said anything until you made it inside his apartment.

“Matthew, you have to fucking talk to me.” you finally got out. He now has no reason not to talk. “I thought you were going to stop fucking around. Please tell me you have.” you pleaded with him, tearing welling up in your eyes.

“I stopped fucking around.” Matthew finally answered you. “I can’t tell you why I was going to dinner with her right now. I just need your trust.”

“You need my trust? You do not have the most trustworthy reputation. Why can’t you just tell me?” you were now letting the tears fully fall.

“I just can’t tell you right now.” Matthew signed out.

“I think I need to be alone tonight.” you sadly huffed out.

“Please don’t leave. I just need some time.” Matthew now was the one pleading with you.

“I just need some time, Matthew. I need tonight to myself. Now I am going to take an Uber, and you will not show up at my apartment, until I can get my head together.” you explained. “I was happily proving all the wags wrong, and then you throw this shit at me.” Matthew nodded in understanding, and you got the notification the car you ordered was ready out front. You left with a ‘see you later.’ Not being in the talking mood and your driver understanding that, you kept to just listening to the radio.

You were exhausted when you opened the door to your apartment. It was cold inside and felt slightly foreign. You hadn’t been there in at least a week, choosing to just stay at Matthew’s. Quickly getting ready for bed, you didn’t waste any time getting into your queen sized bed. You didn’t sleep well at all. You missed Matthew’s cuddles and getting warm from his body heat. You even missed having something to wake up to, besides an empty bed. Tossing and turning you decided you should check your phone since putting it on do not disturb. You had a couple social media notifications, and some text from Johnny, Mark, and even Kelcie.

“It really was just dinner.” Kelcie had texted you.

“Matthew loves you, he is always telling us so. Please, just trust him.” Mark’s message read.

“I don’t know what the fuck happened tonight, but I am so sorry for the way the girls treated you. Matthew loves you. Just hear him out.” Johnny’s message was the last one you read.

Bursting out in tears, you couldn’t believe what happened tonight. You did nothing wrong to the wives. Why did they hate you? You ended up crying yourself to sleep and woke up way past noon. The sun was already set high in the sky, and you have to force yourself out of your bed. Making yourself ‘breakfast’ and turning on the TV. You were skipping through channels, stopping when you saw Matthew doing a pre-game interview on Sportsnet. The Flames had an early, one time game against the Oilers, and then they were off to Montréal to play the Canadians. You honestly didn’t know if you were going to talk to him before he left.

Deciding to go against your brain, you sent him a quick ‘good luck’ text before shutting your phone back off. You had some work to do, and just let the game go on in the background. Cleaning your kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom, before working on some spreadsheets you had taken home from work. You didn’t check your phone for the rest of the day, staying busy with work. The Flames ended up winning, and you got the horn sound through your TV. You still smiled when the camera zoomed into Matthew hugging his teammates.

When you turned your phone on the following day, you went out of your way to avoid all text messages from anyone that was associated with the Flames or Matthew. You just wanted to get through work and come home to have a bubble bath with some wine. And you did just that. You tried not to take too many breaks at work, because when you did all you could think about was Matthew. When you made it home and got into that bubble bath you’ve been dreaming of all day, you couldn’t help and think about how Matthew would hold you as you both bathed together. You pushed all those thoughts away, and slipped into the bath, letting the warmth of the water comfort you. You went to bed early and only ever looked at your messages when you needed to text one of your coworkers.

The next day was like Groundhog Day, where Billy Murray’s days repeated. You felt like a zombie. Work went as normal and you even got done early and could head back to your apartment an hour early. This was the last series of hockey games for the season. The Flames weren’t going into the offseason, but you were still proud of Matthew, anyway. You quickly texted Matthew a quick ‘good luck.’ He always said that was his good luck charm. Saying that he just plays better after getting that text. And who were you to mess up his game? You didn’t read any of the text he had sent you and watched the pre-game interviews. You weren’t paying too much attention until Matthew’s voice came out of your speakers.

“We have Matthew Tkachuk with us!” the reporter excitedly cheered out. “How are you doing, Matthew?”

“I’m doing fine, how about you guys?” Matthew answered back.

“We are doing alright! What are you doing to get ready for this game?” the reporter was just asking him generic questions.

“Well, I’m just doing everything I usually do.” Matthew seemed a little uninterested, but kept the interview going.

“Do you have anything planned for the offseason?” This question sparked your interest.

“Yeah, I hope to be spending it with my beautiful girlfriend.” Matthew conceded. The interview was over quickly, and you couldn’t stop thinking about Matthew. You did really miss him. The Flames schedule was two games back to back, a rest day, and then the last game. Matthew had told you before that they were planning on flying home right after the last game.

The days were separated by how you spent your night. One night you went out to dinner with a coworker, another night you spent going to the movies alone, and the other two were spent trying new dinners recipes. When you tried the new red pepper pasta dish, you caught yourself thinking about how Matthew would like it, and how you should make it for him sometime. After you couldn’t get him off your mind, you spent the night crying about how much you missed Matthew. Without thinking, you checked the messages Matthew had previously sent you:

I love you.

Please don’t leave me.

Would you be willing to meet with me at my apartment tomorrow night? I have something I need to confess.

Nothing bad, I promise.

I really love you.

My mom misses you, and I do too.

You chuckled a bit at the last text. Before you could chicken out, you texted Matthew saying that you would go to his apartment after work. He answered back quickly, saying how he missed you and couldn’t wait to come clean. You didn’t sleep too well that night. Your brain was just stuck thinking about what Matthew could have to tell you.

The morning came too soon, and so did your alarm. You thought about calling in sick, but thought better of it. The morning was the same as any other, and you went to your plain-old job. Today your boss swamped you with work, meaning you would have to work a little later than you had planned. You rushed over to Matthew’s after you finished your last spreadsheet. You were definitely driving over the speed limit in some zones, but you just wanted to get to Matthew’s apartment. When you came to his door, you didn’t know if to knock or not. You haven’t knocked on his door in what felt like forever. You thought it would be better to knock, and Matthew opened the door in record time. “Sorry I got caught up at work.”

“No, you're right in time. I just finished making some dinner.” Matthew waved you off.

“You made dinner? Oh, no.” you chirped him, and he laughed. It felt good to hear him laugh.

Dinner was fantastic. He made chicken with some vegetables on the side. Conversation was easy between you guys; it always has been. Matthew told you stories of what happened during the road trip, and you told him what you have been up to.

After eating, Matthew became really serious. “Give me a minute, and I’ll explain everything.” After that, he left the dining room and went to his bedroom. You had moved into the living room and waited patiently for him to come back. When he did, he asked you to turn around, and you followed his directions. “Turn around.” he whispered.

Matthew was on one knee, with a ring box open in his hands, “Will you marry me?”

“I need some answers before I can give you an answer.” you admitted.

“I’ll tell you everything.” Matthew begged.

“Why did you lie about having dinner with Kelcie?” you questioned

“She was helping me plan a more romantic proposal, but I kinda ruined the plan.” Matthew explained. “Nothing ever happened between us. I lied because I didn’t want you to ask why I was going to see her. I just wanted things to be perfect.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” you asked.

“I wanted to wait until after the season where we could have some time to ourselves.” he explained.

“Ask me again.” you demanded.

“Ask you what?”

“Ask me to marry you again, Doofus.” you chuckled.

“Oh, um. Will you marry me y/n?” Matthew questioned nervously.

“Yes!” you gladly said. Matthew sprung up and slid the diamond ring on to your finger. You kissed him passionately.

“You don’t know how excited my mom is going to be.” Matthew sighed. “She loves you. I think she almost flew out, when I told her what I did.” You just chuckled.

“I love you, Matthew, but never fucking do that to me again.” you said.

“I promise to never do that to you again. You stole my heart, future Mrs. Tkachuk.” Matthew whispered in your ear. The night turned out better than you expected. You couldn’t be more excited to show your ring to everyone, knowing the love of your life was right there beside you.

finished

#matthew tkachuk imagine #Matthew tkachuk x reader #Matthew tkachuk angst #Matthew tkachuk fluff #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl #nhl fic #calgary flames #hockey #hockey fic #hockey boys

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lawisnotmocked · 3 years

Text

Queer Readings of Les Mis - Javert

Queer readings of classic literature are one of my favourite things and I’ve seen some great queer readings of Enjolras and Grantaire, and a few queer readings of Eponine and Valjean too but one queer reading that I don’t see much is of Javert, so I thought I’d do a queer reading of Javert with you guys today! This includes ace Javert, repressed gay Javert, and my ‘Javert realises he’s in love with Valjean before he dies but Valjean never realises or reciprocates his feelings’ reading so yeah be prepared for that! :’D

I feel like I should probably define what a queer reading actually is before I start because it’s a term used a lot in academia that some people might not have come across before! Queer readings are about challenging heteronormativity in texts and exploring ways in which a text can be interpreted as queer. While some queer readings of texts can focus on what the author’s potential intentions may have been, this isn’t a necessity. If you’re a younger queer person I just want to let you know that you’re allowed to want to see yourself in history and in literature, you have a right to assert your existence and you shouldn’t let anyone make you feel bad or silly for that uwu <3

Our first question is ‘is there any evidence in the brick that Javert is cishet?’ And the answer to that is there’s honestly no evidence at all to suggest that Javert is heterosexual.

In the brick we’re told that Javert isn’t really interested in anything outside of his work, including sexual and romantic relationships. The text actually suggests he’s never been in a relationship before and doesn’t desire one either - ‘And, withal, a life of privation, isolation, abnegation, chastity, with never a diversion.’ ‘As we have said, he had no vices. When he was pleased with himself, he permitted himself a pinch of snuff. Therein lay his connection with humanity.’ (1.5.5) In summary, Javert doesn’t fuck uwu Javert doesn’t have any friends either which is kinda sad someone form a human connection with this man :’3

With this evidence, one queer reading of Javert in the brick is that he’s aromantic and asexual, or somewhere on the aroace spectrum. Javert seems to have a total lack of interest in any kind of intimate relationship, and it’s entirely possible that he doesn’t experience attraction towards anyone.

Another queer reading we can take from Javert’s disinterest in relationships is that he’s attracted to men and represses all of his romantic and/or sexual feelings. Javert is really good at not thinking too hard about stuff, especially anything complicated like his own sexuality - thought was something to which he was unused, and which was peculiarly painful. (5.4.1) It’s the coping mechanism he uses to be able to maintain his black and white worldview, and it would make sense that that would extend into other areas of his personal life too.

Javert was raised in a very heteronormative society and is very respectful of authority and social norms. He’s religious just because that’s what’s socially expected of him, not because he’s thought particularly hard about his relationship with God. In his eyes, of course, the ecclesiastical authority was the chief of all; he was religious, superficial and correct on this point as on all others. (1.8.5) He knows he’s not interested in relationships with women, but he might not have even considered that being attracted to men was an alternative. Sure maybe he’s thought men were handsome before, but he literally doesn’t have the ability to reflect on what those feelings might mean for him and his sexuality. If you asked brick Javert what his sexuality was he’d probably say he was heterosexual, despite never actually experiencing sexual attraction towards women, because that’s the social default and he’s never bothered to question whether or not he might fit that default.

Alternatively, he might be aware that he is attracted to men, but that’s not a socially acceptable thing for him to feel so he just represses it along with all the other thoughts and feelings he has that question authority and the workings of society.

Revolutionary France decriminalized homosexuality in 1791, so this would be less of a legal issue for Javert than a social issue, since I’m assuming there was still a lot of social stigma surrounding being queer. I’m a queer historian but my period is medieval Europe not revolutionary France so if anyone has anything to add here please do ^^’

This wouldn’t be a Sirius Brand Meta Post if I didn’t talk about animal symbolism lol, so I’m gonna talk about animal symbolism now! Specifically the homoeroticism of the hunting symbolism and how surprising horny (voreny?) and repressed Javert is :’3

Then he began the game. He experienced one ecstatic and infernal moment; he allowed his man to go on ahead, knowing that he had him safe, but desirous of postponing the moment of arrest as long as possible, happy at the thought that he was taken and yet at seeing him free, gloating over him with his gaze, with that voluptuousness of the spider which allows the fly to flutter, and of the cat which lets the mouse run. Claws and talons possess a monstrous sensuality,—the obscure movements of the creature imprisoned in their pincers. What a delight this strangling is! Javert was enjoying himself. The meshes of his net were stoutly knotted. He was sure of success; all he had to do now was to close his hand. (2.5.10)

Like?? Hello sir are you okay?? What about this could possibly be heterosexual :’3 Dshdhdh okay I’ll go back to doing a kinda serious analysis I just have to bully Javert for being Like This :’3

Javert’s animal symbolism can actually be used as part of a queer reading as a way to understand how he emotionally reacts to things. Javert is at his most emotional in chapter 5.4.1, Javert derailed. He’s is forced to confront everything he’s denied and repressed about himself and other people, and a large portion of this chapter is dedicated to how he feels about Valjean specifically. Do I think Javert has been in love with Valjean this entire time and is finally forced to confront his feelings? No. Up until this point I think they’ve both seen each other as an inconvenience and an obstacle who they somehow keep running into, and I don’t think this changes for Valjean after he saves Javert. He just doesn’t know Javert well enough outside of ‘that one weird policeman I keep running into’ to have any strong feelings about him.

I will argue though that in Javert derailed, Javert is in love with Valjean. I’m not even sure if he’s consciously aware that that’s what he’s feeling and I don’t think he really knows how to express it either. Hugo chooses to express a lot of Javert’s more complex feelings through animalistic metaphors, because Javert feels things in a very instinctive and animalistic way, that’s just how his understanding of himself and his emotions works ^^’

When he had so unexpectedly encountered Jean Valjean on the banks of the Seine, there had been in him something of the wolf which regains his grip on his prey, and of the dog who finds his master again. (5.4.1)

Javert is clearly having very conflicted feelings about what his relationship with Valjean is after he spared his life at the barricade. There’s still that hunting instinct that tells him he’s found the convict he was tracking down, but there’s something else there too. ‘The dog who finds his master again’. I don’t know how many of you have dogs but they’re always so happy to see their humans again whenever you go somewhere! Javert is happy to see him! Javert missed him! Maybe he even feels some affection towards him! Even the wolf finding his prey is excited to see it again, and in both of these scenarios the dog and the wolf desire closeness with the object of their attention. The homoeroticism of the hunt!! The love and devotion of the dog!! Symbolically, Javert is breaking his ties with the police and forming a bond with Valjean. Emotionally he’s confused and conflicted but he knows that he wants to be close to Valjean.

In the end, ‘the dog who finds his master’ wins out over the ‘wolf which regains his grip on his prey’. Javert lets Valjean go, and then we get this:

A terrible situation! to be touched. ... to be the watch-dog, and to lick the intruder’s hand! to be ice and melt! to be the pincers and to turn into a hand! to suddenly feel one’s fingers opening! to relax one’s grip,—what a terrible thing! (5.4.1)

God the tenderness!!!! How could this not be love in Javert’s weird canid way!! The affection of the dog who licks the human’s hand, the devotion of the dog finding his master!! Javert’s utter devotion towards the society he served is now being projected onto Valjean. Javert loves Valjean. Javert is in awe of Valjean, he’s terrified of him in the same way that men are terrified of angels!

A benevolent malefactor, merciful, gentle, helpful, clement, a convict, returning good for evil, giving back pardon for hatred, preferring pity to vengeance, preferring to ruin himself rather than to ruin his enemy, saving him who had smitten him, kneeling on the heights of virtue, more nearly akin to an angel than to a man. (5.4.1)

What could this be but love from Javert? The man who spent his whole life devoted to system that placed no value on his life and ended it devoted to the man who saved it.

All of that aside, queer readings don’t have to match up with personal headcanons! I don’t want this post to feel like I’m telling you you have to interpret Javert’s character in the book the way I do, this is just one way of reading it! I love to headcanon Javert as bi but that isn’t really supported anywhere in the text lol uwu’’ A queer reading is just about queer elements that are present in the text and there is no way Inspector Javert can be read as heterosexual <3

I love genderqueer Javert headcanons too and I have genderqueer Javert feelings about the line “you’ve got a beard like a man, mother, but I have claws like a woman,” but I also don’t know how to articulate any feelings I do have about it so I’m just leaving it here. Trans rights uwu

Thank you for reading this whole thing I really appreciate it when people get something out of my rambling lol, and as always reblogs are very appreciated and anyone is very welcome to add on to this if they’d like! <3

#javert #valvert #les mis #les miserables #les mis meta #queer readings #here's my queer reading of Javert as promised uwu <3 #monsters of our making

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softboywriting · 3 years

Text

Hard To Love | Nathan Bateman | Ex Machina

Summary: You’re Nathan’s personal assistant. He’s an insufferable bastard. Both of you have unchecked tension and feelings for each other. What could possibly go wrong? [swearing] [sexual themes/situations] [arguments] [exhibitonism - implied] [pining] [Dominant!Nathan] [Nickname use - pet name/non derogatory] [Nathan being Nathan] [nsfw - kissing, lap sitting/grinding, heavily implied masturbation!f reader] [F!reader/Nathan]

Word Count: 7k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Nathan is...well... Nathan. Insufferable, workaholic, egotistical. He is a lot to handle and doing so isn't always easy. You had a lot of breakdowns, screaming matches, some nearly coming to blows. But you didn't give up and you learned to work around him, and coax him out of moods, serve him back the same dry humor and disinterest. After finding out he had gone through four assistants, two that never made it past their first week, you knew you couldn't give up on him. There was a diamond in the rough and you were going to find it because despite all of the hard times, you care for him. He's a fucking bastard, but he's your fucking bastard.

"It's been six months." Nathan says over breakfast one morning.

You look back from where you're cleaning up the pans you used to make his vegetable omelet with soy egg substitute. His favorite. You had taken over cooking from Kyoko three months ago when she began to malfunction. You're not sure what happened, or if maybe Nathan staged the malfunction to give you more to do. You suspect the latter.

"Six months? Really?"

"Don't act like you don't count the days."

"I don't actually." You set your plate of food on the table and he reaches for one of your toasts. He has his own, well, had. He ate it already but he has egg left so he wants more toast. "I stopped months ago."

He chuckles softly. "I still don't know why you won't quit."

"Why do you want me to?"

"I don't."

"Then why do you bring it up?" You raise your eyebrows and he shoots you a look over his vitamin water. "Cat got your tongue?"

Nathan folds his hands, elbows on the table as he shakes his head. "Most people in your position, having dealt with what you have dealt with, would be itching to get as far away as possible. Surely you must be mentally unstable to stay with me, gaining some sick pleasure from our fights and shit. I almost feel bad."

He almost feels bad, as if he were to blame for nothing. Typical. "And if I am fucked up? Gonna fire me?"

"Fuck no."

You smile over your coffee. Decaf. He won't have regular in the house after he nearly went into cardiac arrest from an over abundance of caffeine. He did it to himself. Slugging back redbulls with his vodka after drinking his pre-work out mix that had far more than he needed in it. He may be a technical genius but he can be such a fucking moron.

"You like me." You tease, rubbing your barefoot on his leg under the table. "You would miss me if I left."

He snorts indignantly but does not deny your observations.

"How was the food?"

"Perfect." He sits back, foot bumping yours now, running up the side. "Don't know how you do it."

"Perfect? Wow. High praise from you." You swat his foot away with yours and he starts trying to pin it down by stepping on it. "Better than Kyoko's?"

Nathan hums. "I programmed her with cooking skills from top chefs across the internet. Technically she should be the greatest chef on the planet. So the fact that you can make me food that is better floors me."

You hook your ankle around his and he lets out a little grunt. "Cooking is an act of love. Yes you can program an AI to make things perfectly but technical skill doesn't equate to preferred taste. Come on, Nathan, you're smarter than this."

"Questioning my intelligence now?"

"Every day." You jerk your leg back as he lifts his other foot to trap it. "Cheat! You cheater! One foot only!"

Nathan lets out a boisterous laugh, head falling back, hand over his chest. "You get so worked up over that!"

You roll your eyes and stab your eggs viciously. "Fuck off Nathan."

"No need to get so mouthy."

"Mouthy." You scoff. "Rich coming from you."

He stands, catching your chin in his grasp. "I got you to break."

"You- oh God damn it." You jerk away, arm extending to shove him.

He chuckles proudly to himself. "I'll be in my lab. Find me if you need me."

"Gonna let me in today?"

"I might."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll see you later."

____________________

Nathan could have the AI clean the house, but then you would run out of things to do. Honestly your job could be done by any one of his creations, humanoid or not. You don't actually need to be there at all, and yet Nathan keeps you around. For a man who is hell bent on privacy and secrecy surrounding his work, you have no idea how he has let others in. He laughs when he says that he had the men who built the complex killed after the fact. Surely it's a joke. You think. Though you've never asked, never dared to investigate the truth in his words. It's best you don't know.

The house doesn't need cleaning that often. Just laundry, dishes, some sweeping and mopping should you or Nathan track in mud after a hike. Most chores take a few hours out of one day a week. Your title is assistant and yet you don't actually assist him. Not in his work anyway. You feel like your title should be maid or housekeeper. It's fine, you really don't care because he pays you so generously that you would do whatever he needs you to.

"Kitten!" Nathan's voice comes from the intercom system built in the house. "Come to the lab, kitten."

You scowl at the nickname. He dubbed you Kitten your second day at the complex because he thought your wandering around perplexed by the maze like design of the house was akin to a new kitten trying to find its way in the world. You suppose there could be worse names he could call you, and there are ones that have come out in screaming matches, but kitten has stuck.

"Lab. Now. Come on."

"Fuck." You groan, tossing aside your book you were getting very into.

"I heard that."

"Of course you did." You lift your badge and scan the door to your room to head out into the hall. One of the AI walks by and you think her name is Lily. She's beautiful. Unfortunately her programming has failed and she cannot speak. "Hi Lily."

Lily raises her hand in greeting.

If she is out then that must mean Nathan has been working on her. You turn away from the AI and walk down the hall to the junction that splits left to Nathan's room and right to another hall that goes to the lab and test rooms. The lab door is open, the light blue on the access pad.

Nathan spins around in his chair. "Kitten, you've made it."

"As if I could get lost."

"I have something to show you."

"Do you? I thought you didn't want me involved in your work."

Nathan gives you a hard look. "Do you want to fucking see it or not?"

"I don't even know what it is."

He grabs a small item off his desk and brings it to you. "This is it. My newest AI."

You take the small flash drive from him and turn it over in your hands. "This is a new program?"

"Yes. My best work yet. I'm going to build her this week."

"Exciting."

"Please show some enthusiasm for fucks sake." He snatches the device from your hand. "I'm kind enough to share this with you, you could at least say thank you."

"I never asked."

Nathan slaps the flash drive down on the desk and stares at you. He is not used to being served his own cold attitude and he never will be. Since you started going toe to toe with him, he has been on top of his game. It's like you engage his mind beyond his massive ego. "You're insufferable."

"Likewise." You smile and he smiles back. The pissing match has ended. "I need to get groceries soon."

"You know what I like."

"Of course I do." You fold your arms over your chest and he averts his eyes for a moment. You know he's staring at your breasts, pushed up in the tank top you had chosen to wear while deep cleaning your bathroom earlier. "But what do you want?"

"Loaded question, kitten."

"Going that route today?"

"Maybe." He saunters towards you and catches your hair between his fingers. "I want... something sweet."

You raise your eyebrows. "You're craving sugar? Are you ill?"

He chuckles. "A little. Just in the head."

"Seriously."

"Yes I want something sweet. Get me some donuts." He puts his hands on his hips. "Get yourself something too."

"I always get myself stuff. Do you think I only buy your groceries?"

"It's my house, of course I think you buy my shit."

You reach out and touch his beard, fingertips gliding along his cheek. You don't miss the way his eyes flutter at your touch. "Do you need your beard oil? The conditioner stuff? Looks dry."

He grabs your hand and curls his fingers around yours. "Yes, I do. But don't touch it."

"Possessive today huh?" You smirk and he groans irritably deep in his throat. "You live for my touch."

"I live for you to leave me the fuck alone."

"Then fire me."

"No."

"Then suffer." You bring your other hand up and pat his opposite cheek. "Does physical affection bother you Nathan? Does touching another human bother you so mu-"

He backs you against the wall and pins your wrists. His face is only inches from yours, body pouring heat onto you. It sparks something deep inside and you feel heat pooling in between your legs. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" He murmurs, grip tight on your skin.

"Don't you have some issues to work out?"

"Fuck you."

"You'd like to."

Nathan drops your wrists at that and retreats into the lab, the door closing and locking behind him. It drives him mad that you're not one of his AI that he can order around and do what he pleases with. You like to think that's why he keeps you around, to remind him that he's human and he needs someone that isn't an algorithm to keep him sane. Maybe he also let a little piece of you crave out a chunk of his icy cold heart.

You rub your wrists and look at the reddened skin. They might bruise. You straighten your clothes and head back to your room. You'll need to wear something more appropriate to the store. It's cold out these days.

_____________________

"Do you get lonely?" Nathan asks one evening over drinks in the lounge.

You put down your laptop and give him your attention. It's the first time he's spoken to you in two days since the wrist grabbing incident. "Lonely?"

"Yeah. Do you miss relationships? Hook ups?"

"Not really. I was never super social to begin with."

"Right."

"Why?"

"Just curious." He takes a long drink, emptying his tumbler. "Why do you think I want to fuck you?"

You feel your cheeks redden. The way he is staring at you makes your arousal rear its ugly head. Staring shouldn't turn you on. He hasn't done anything. "I think you're desperate."

"Desperate?"

"Yeah. You decommissioned Kyoko months ago, Lily doesn't have a vagina and yes I know this because you told me in a drunken stupor ages ago. So you haven't fucked anything or anyone in months."

"You think I need to fuck?"

You stand and walk over to him, knocking his knees open to stand between his legs. "Nathan, just fucking admit that you want me. That you keep me around because one day you'll grow a pair of balls and ask me to sleep with you."

His hands come up and grab your hips. He pulls you down and you straddle his lap, thin pajama pants hardly acting as a barrier between you and his cock in his gray sweats. "I keep you around because you piss me off." He grips your ass and you roll your hips against him. "You piss me off and make my blood boil like no one else."

"So you hate me?"

Nathan brings your head down to meet his. "I couldn't hate you if I tried."

"Then what are we doing?"

"We're having a moment." He grabs your hair and you snap at his nose with your teeth in response. "Behave."

You let out a moan as he begins kissing up your throat. "This was your plan all along."

"Do you ever shut up?"

"No."

"Then I'll make you." His hand closes around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you stop talking. "Why do you have to be so in my head? Why..." He kisses your shoulder, biting the junction between it and your neck. "Why did you have to show up?"

"You hired me." You whisper and he drops his hand from your throat in favor of sliding it up your shirt. "You selected me."

He rolls his hips up against you, biting down on your skin to elicit a yelp from you. "You're damn right I did."

You grind down against his cock and he grabs your hips to still them. You let out a soft whine from the lack of pleasure and he grips harder.

"Get up."

Your heart sinks, and you stare at him in confusion. "What?"

"Get up. We're not doing this." Nathan pushes you off of his lap and you stumble to your feet.

You straighten your clothes and walk around the coffee table to grab your laptop. You can't say you didn't expect this. It was a long shot to begin with and you initiated it so you knew he would shut it down. Still, it hurts. His rejection isn't disinterest, it's personal protection. He won't let anyone that close to his heart.

"Good night, Nathan." You mutter as you head for the doors to the inner workings of the complex.

"Night, Kitten."

_____________________

It is three days before you see Nathan again. Locking himself away isn't uncommon practice. It's a Thursday when you see him out on the deck with the punching bag. You happened to catch a glance when you were preparing breakfast as you had every day. He didn't eat with you, but you still made it for him and left it under the warmer. The plate was always gone when you came back, so at least you know he is eating.

You grab a few grapefruits from the basket on the counter and start juicing them. It'll be a nice surprise for him. You grab a cup from the cupboard and tilt the juicer to dump its contents for you. It looks good, smells tart but it is not your type of juice. Fitting for a man like Nathan. Bitter, tart and sort of hard to swallow. You rub a bit of the squeezed rinde around the top of the glass and grab the sugar dish to sprinkle some around the rim. A little sweet to lessen the bite, a representation of you in this metaphor.

"Kitten, good morning." Nathan says as you approach with his juice and a towel. "What's this?"

"Grapefruit."

He raises his eyebrows. "Fresh?"

"Yep." You hand him the glass and he inspects it suspiciously. "No poison. Promise."

A smile creeps it's way across his face as he gulps it down. He takes a moment at the end to lick the sugar clean from the rim, keeping his eyes on yours the whole time. It's far more sexual than you think it should be, and it was never your intent to get this response.

"Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes." You pass him the towel and take the glass.

Nathan scrubs the towel over his face and rests it around his neck. "I'm going for a hike later."

"Okay?"

"You're going with me." He turns back to the punching bag and starts his routine back up. "Be ready at nine."

You sigh. "Alright."

_____________________

Nathan's idea of a hike and your idea of a hike vary greatly. You view a hike as wandering around the forest along trails and seeing the beauty of nature before you. Leisurely pace, breaks, maybe a snack or two and some photos for the memories. Nathan however thinks hikes are treacherous climbs up cliffs and rock jumping across rivers and streams. He goes as quick as possible as if he's trying to get somewhere and he's going to be late. It's hardly relaxing.

"Come on, why are you so slow?" Nathan barks from atop a rock some several yards ahead of you.

You're panting, legs pushed to their limit from the half an hour long uphill climb you've just endured. You have no idea how he isn't even winded.

"Fuck off Nathan!" You huff, grabbing a scrubby looking tree for support as you haul yourself up over a broken chunk of the path. A game trail, not even a proper walking path.

He laughs, his voice echoing off the cliffs surrounding you. "You can do it, Kitten! Get that little ass up here!"

You finally reach him, your lungs threatening to explode. "First of all, this isn't a hike it's a rock climbing marathon." You hold a finger up to his face threateningly. "And second, my ass isn't little."

"Oh I know." He folds his arms over his chest.

"So you stare at my ass a lot then?"

"I'm a heterosexual man. Of course I'm going to look at your ass."

You roll your eyes. "Thanks for the objectification."

"You're welcome."

"Can we take a break here? My legs are killing me."

Nathan stretches his arms up and back. "This is why I brought you with me."

"Why?"

"So you can get some exercise. Your stamina is shit."

You glance to the drop off below then back at him. "You wanna keep insulting me?"

"Facts are not insults."

"I will push you off this cliff, Nathan."

He steps away from the edge and closer to you. He doesn't say anything about it. Doesn't apologize for the comments about your stamina and needing to work out more. He reaches for your face, plucking something off of your cheek. "Eyelash."

"Make a wish."

"Wishes are for children." He flicks his finger off to the side.

"I wish my boss would get his head out of his ass." You smirk triumphantly. "Is that a child's wish?"

Nathan flicks his eyes up and down your face, eyes settling on the bite bruise peaking out from under your sweatshirt collar. You had forgotten about it until this very moment, when you realize he hadn't seen it yet. "Is that mine?"

"Of course. Who else has been biting me out here in the middle of nowhere?" You reach up to touch it and he shoves your hand away to pull the fabric aside for himself.

"No one else can touch you."

Heat blossoms in your stomach at his jealousy tinged words. Possessive Nathan really does it for you. But he isn't your boyfriend. He is your boss. "I'm not yours Nathan."

His fingertips ghost over the nearly healed bruise. "Yes you are."

"I'm not."

"Then why don't you leave?"

You shove his hand off your shoulder and he gives you one of his famed deadly glares for doing something he doesn't like. "You don't want me. So I can't be yours."

"It's not that I don't want you, I can't have you." He turns and starts walking away, resuming the hike. How very like him. He says something stupidly cryptic that only makes sense to him. Whatever. You're not here for his affection and approval. You're here to be his assistant.

____________________

"I'm out of alcohol." Nathan states plainly, looking into the cupboard that usually has a few bottles of his favorite liquors. "Where is my shit?"

You look over from the fridge and smirk to yourself. "I thought you were on a detox again."

"I'm done with it. Where..." He turns and looks at you. "You didn't buy anything."

"Nope. I was told not to."

"By who?"

"You."

He purses his lips and looks around as if thinking about when he would have ever said that to you. He looks perplexed and you feel so smug. "Since when do you ever listen to me?"

You laugh softly. This is your fault now? Following his orders and not buying alcohol? Really.

"You're my boss. I usually follow your orders."

Nathan kicks the cupboard closed lightly. "Stop that."

"Stop what? Following your instructions?"

"Stop fucking with my head." He leans on the counter and takes his glasses off to dig his palms into his eyes. "You're so fucking irritating."

"Sure am." You gather some utensils from the counter that you left to dry and begin to put them away. "I live to make you suffer."

Nathan pulls his hands from his eyes and stares at you, eyebrows furrowed. It's like you're a puzzle and he's trying to see the solution. "Sometimes I wonder."

"You're being a baby."

"Excuse me?"

You walk over and stand in front of him, hands on your hips, mimicking his pose when he explains things to you. He doesn't fail to notice this as his eyes sweep over you in assessment and he raises his head as if challenging you. "You're only saying I'm irritating and making you suffer because you can't drink. It's been what? A week?"

"Eight days."

"A week. I'm sure you can make it another two weeks."

"You're fucking joking."

"Nope. I'm not going into town for groceries again until absolutely necessary. It's a three hour flight there and then back, remember?"

Nathan clenches the edge of the counter top with white knuckles.

"Get as pissed as you want." You lean in close and he nearly moves back. You know he won't back down from a challenge. "Maybe you'll have to face your demons sober. Maybe you'll figure your shit out."

"I didn't hire you to be my fucking therapist."

"Yet here I am."

Nathan pushes off the counter and grabs the bottle of water you set out for him before he goes off to lock himself in his lab for God knows how long. Ever since you came on to him he seems to be jumpy around you. You don't know why he won't just admit that he likes you, that he wants you. He is going to get blue balls sooner or later. Well, maybe not because he can jack off but actual sex isn't the same and you know he has a sex drive through the roof. You used to hear it at all hours of the morning before he deactivated Kyoko. You'd be lying if you said you didn't get off on it a few times.

_____________________

Days and days pass without a word from Nathan. Ten is now the most you've ever gone and after five you start to wonder if he is even in the house. Maybe he went for a walk and fell in the river. Maybe he pissed off his AI again and it finally strangled him. You would have no idea because the place is so huge and quiet for the most part. Aside from living quarters the complex is soundproofed. One would think Nathan's room beside yours would be for privacy but it's not. The freak. He wants people to hear him.

At the twelfth day mark you actually begin to worry. A twenty day sober Nathan may be a new kind of animal and you're not sure if you truly want to interact. Distance makes the heart grow fond though and while he is insufferable you do care for him and wish to see his stupid smug face. It's a risk but one you need to take.

The light on the lab door is red. Locked. You raise your key card and it buzzes, remaining red. He's denied your access to the lab. Shocker. You press the com button on the wall but it doesn't connect. He's shut that off too.

You lean your head on the cool cement wall and sigh. One more day. You'll give it one more day. If he doesn't show his face you'll get the override key card that resides in the hidden box in the bathroom. You found it ages ago, by pure accident. You've never used it and he has no idea that you even know about it. But you'll do what you have to do.

______________________

Morning of the next day you find yourself in bed, looking around the soft cream colored walls. An idea comes to mind. A dirty, dirty idea. You know Nathan has cameras in every room. He's too anal about protectng his work not to. Plus he has major trust issues.

You lean over the side of the bed and pull open the nightstand drawer. Inside is a small vibrator that you brought with you when you moved in. There's another box in there too. One that was there when you opened the drawer the first night. On the top it says "For your needs, because you're only human."

Of course you opened the box out of curiosity, Nathan had said everything in the room was for you so it wasn't snooping. In the box was a dildo, some lube and a little bullet vibrator. You had never used them, finding the gift too personal and odd. Complimentary soap? Normal. Complimentary extra blankets and pillows? Thoughtful. Complimentary sex toys? Insane. Until you got to know Nathan, you thought it was the weirdest thing ever. In fact, you forgot about the box after a while as you hadn't had the urge to get off until recently. Today however, you're going to make a show of it in hopes of getting his attention.

You dump the contents of the box on the bed and pick up the dildo, wrapping your fingers around it. It's life like, fleshy and soft but firm enough for it's intended use. It's bigger than you might usually prefer but nothing you can't handle with some extra time. And you've got nothing but time. You take a glance around the room, not seeing any obvious surveillance cameras. This may be for nothing.

You make quick work of your pajamas, toss aside the blankets and prop yourself against the headboard. You decide to keep your gaze fixed on the television, imagining it's where he is watching from. You close your eyes and let your hands start to wander, doing thier thing while your mind runs wild.

Time passes slowly as you work yourself over, adjusting to the dildo and working yourself into a heated frenzy. It would be easier if you had something to watch, some porn or something. You're not intent on making yourself come, but you will if it comes to that. You just want to put on a show to draw him out. That's what you're telling yourself anyway.

The power goes out, darkening the room and thrusting you into silence. The back up system announces its engagement and the emergency lights come up red. You sit up and lean your head back against the headboard. Great. You toss the toys aside and get up, pulling on your pajamas. You go to the door, punch in the code for manual override during power failure. Nathan is such a nerd. It's not a specific number but rather the theme to Star Wars.

The door clicks open and you go out into the hall. No one in sight, not that you really expected anyone. "Nathan!" You call out, heading for the lab door. Everything is eerie red and you don't like it. "Power is out!"

No response.

"Nathan James Bateman!" You sing song as you slide your card on the lab door. It buzzes. "I know you hear me you fuck!"

"Power restored. All systems active."

The hall turns white, back to the bright daylight simulated lighting. You lift your key card up in hopes that the system turned off his lock out coding for your card. Sure enough it turns blue and the door clicks open. Relief washes over you as you step into the darkened office where his computer is set up, notes on the wall, security feeds pulled up on two of the monitors. The door to the actual lab is open and you walk through into the bright area.

"Nate?" You call out, the nickname slipping out as your voice wavers a bit when you don't see him anywhere.

"Kitten?"

You spin around and see the man you seek emerge from a doorway. It's the server closet where the breaker box is. "Hey."

"How'd you get in here?"

"The power failure reset the lock codes."

"You can leave."

"Nathan, you haven't been out in almost two weeks. I'm starting to get worried. What are you eating? Are you sleeping?"

"I'm fine."

You give him a once over. Wrinkled clothes. Disheveled beard. Hair grown out longer than you remember, still buzzed but not so close. His skin is dull and lifeless. "You look like shit."

"What's new?"

"Oh come on. You're more vain than that. What are you doing in here anyway? Why the power failure?"

"Fuck off."

"What an original come back. I've been trying to get your attention for days. The fact that it took a power outage for me to get to you is sad." You walk up to him and touch his chest, there is a little bit of dried blood smeared on his shirt. A cut on his hand most likely. "Nathan, talk to me."

Nathan pushes away from you and goes to his design table where there are blueprints laid out for an AI.

"Nathan."

"Leave." There is no venom in his tone. If anything he sounds pleading.

You decide to make a bold move and wrap your arms around his shoulders. He stiffens, hands stilling on the table, pen falling from his fingers. "Please talk to me."

"Just go. I don't want to talk to you."

"Fine. Dinner is at six." You pause at the doorway to the office area. "Did you hear me?"

"Six."

"Good."

_____________________

Things fall back into a normal rhythm in the days following. You do your work and he does his. You eat together, go for walks, talk about his progress on the new AI. Everything seems to be back to it’s usual flow, how it always happened after big arguments or falling outs.

So while you’re sitting in the lab watching him work one day and he asks you about the dildo in the bedside table you're thrown for a loop. It’s far from his usual choice of topics and you had actually forgotten all about it. His mentioning of it brings back the memory of when you were laid out on your bed, literally masturbating to try and get his attention. Christ what a desperate move that was. Stupid.

"So have you opened it?"

"The dildo box? Yeah I've opened it." You try to remain casual as you discuss something so personal. You definitely aren’t thinking about how good it felt.

He smirks. "Used it?"

"No." A bold lie. He has no idea. He never saw you in your bedroom. At least you don't think he did. Why would he ask about it if he had? Why is he asking about it at all?

“You’re a shitty liar.” He turns around in his chair and faces you, pushing his glasses up off the end of his nose. “Did you like it?”

“I haven’t used it.”

“Do you want me to bring up the video? I will.” He stands and heads to the office. “Come on, come here.”

You slide off the table and walk behind him in your shame, cheeks hot. You knew you shouldn’t have lied. Of course he was testing you. It's Nathan for fucks sake. He gestures to his rolling chair and you take a seat while he leans over the desk and clicks around on files on the desktop. “Is this really necessary?”

“Yeah. It is.” He opens a play back window and you can see the view of your room. No surprise. You try to figure out where the hell this camera is based on the angle. It seems to be the top left corner above your closet but as far as you remember there is nothing there. “Oh, there you are.”

“Nathan.”

“No, no watch.” He points to the screen as you toss and turn on the bed. He speeds up the playback as you get into the drawer and get the box out. You deliberately clear the bed, undress, get back on the bed.

You roll your eyes, looking away from the screen and he places a hand on your head and turns it back to watch. “So? I’m masturbating. Whatever. You do it too. If I wasn’t supposed to use the damn thing why did you leave it for me?”

“Oh I don’t care that you used it.” He clicks a little audio icon beside the playback screen. “I just want to know why you lied about it.”

“I am embarrassed? I don't make a habit of talking about my-”

“Nathan.” Your voice plays back on the audio coming from the video playback and you wish you could sink into the floor and disappear. “Nathan, harder please!” Of course he has audio on the fucking cameras. Of fucking course he does because why not right? It’s his house, his research facility.

Nathan looks at you over his glasses. “You’re embarrassed about talking about masturbating or you’re embarrassed that you think of me when you do it and I found out? Actually don’t answer that because this looks deliberate.” He takes a seat on the desk, blocking the view of the monitors. “Now, are you going to lie to me again, or tell me what this is about?”

“I wanted to get your attention.”

“Well you got it honey.” He clicks a button on the keyboard and it stops the playback.

“I wanted your attention to get you out of the fucking lab. It had been almost two weeks since I had seen you and the only way I can reach you from outside is through the cameras. So I thought, maybe there is one in my room because you’re a fucking control freak. Low and behold I was right, but it didn’t work how I planned it to.” You fold your arms over your chest and he chuckles. “What’s so funny?”

“You.”

“Me? How is any of this funny?”

“What kind of person thinks that masturbating on camera is going to get someone’s attention? No, seriously, why wouldn’t you try flash signalling the cameras in the halls? Set up a cue card with a message? Who says I’m gonna fuck myself for my bosses attention?”

You take in a deep breath and clench your jaw. He’s right, kind of. You hate it but he is. In any other situation you never would have done this. So why did you? Why did your brain go straight to exhibitionism? Because it’s Nathan and you’ve got it bad for him and you wanted him to see you. He’s got your brain just as fucked up as he has his own.

“It was wrong, I’m sorry. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Nope.” He kicks his legs hanging over the desk. “I wanna know if you liked that dildo.”

“It was fine I guess.”

“Not too much?”

“Nathan, why do you fucking care?”

He hops off the desk and shakes his head as he heads into the lab. “I’m curious is all!”

“You’re a freak!”

“And yet you still like me!”

“I’m starting to wonder why.” You push up out of the chair, close the playback on the computer and leave the office. You’re covering that stupid camera and throwing that dildo in the trash chute. You should have known he’d get some weird complex out of watching you say his fucking name while plowing yourself with a toy. In a weird way it turns you on, but it also pisses you off because he won’t actually admit that he liked it. He won’t ever admit anything.

_____________________

“Can I ask you something?” You say to Nathan as he sits beside you on the couch. You’re in the lounge together, dinner long over, watching a movie as you wind down for the evening. He’s got his arm around the back of the cushions and your legs are pulled up under you, feet pressed against his thigh. You’re close, but not too close.

“I don’t know. Can you?”

“Don’t be a dick for ten minutes please.”

Nathan holds his hand up in defense. “Ten minutes. Shoot.”

“Promise you won’t be a dick? For real?”

“Yes. Ask me the damn question.”

You take a deep breath, knowing what you’re about to ask is going to be rough on him. “When we were on our hikes a few weeks ago, you said it wasn’t that you don’t want me, it’s that you can’t have me. What does that mean?”

Nathan stares ahead at the movie on the tv over the fireplace. A moment passes, a moment that is too long and makes the room fill with awkward tension. You expected this.

“Gonna stay quiet for the ten minutes you aren’t going to be a dick?”

“Shut up.” He says softly, no venom in the words.

You stare at him expectantly, awaiting a better answer than just shut up. “Seriously, would you just-”

Nathan’s arm comes up from the back on the couch and his hand catches the back of your head, dragging you closer to him as he presses a kiss to your lips. Your blood boils in the best way and you chase his lips as he pulls away. “That’s all it takes to shut you up?”

“Answer my question. Ten minutes aren’t up.”

“I can’t have you because you’re going to leave. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day you’re going to leave.”

“I’m not leaving Nathan.”

He scoffs. “So if I stopped paying you to be my assistant, you would stay?”

“Yes.”

"You're fucked up." He shakes his head. "You're fucked up and it's my fault."

You stare at him at a loss for words. Did he just admit fault for something? Are you hearing this correctly? Is Nathan Bateman, tech genius and egotistical maniac admitting he has done something? Holy shit.

"I did this to you. I made you stay here and endure my mood swings and drinking and all my shit. I stockholm syndrome'd you and I didn't even realize it." He leans his head back and closes his eyes. "You don't deserve this."

"Nathan, you didn't make me stay here. I chose to stay."

"Where the fuck were you going to go? Run off into the woods for days and days until you hope to find someone? What option did you have? I trapped you here. I've kept you caged in this house like an animal."

You lay your hand over his and he grabs it, threading your fingers together. "You don't think someone could actually love you, do you?"

"What?"

"You don't think someone could fall in love with you because you're insecure. You push people away, you push me away because you think it's easier than letting yourself feel something for someone."

Nathan looks pissed but he holds his tongue.

"I'm not trapped here, you aren't twisting my arm and making me stay here against my will. I know what I signed up for, I know what I signed in those contracts. I could have told you to fuck off and shove your head up your ass months ago and taken a helicopter back into the city. I could have just run away on any one of my dozen grocery runs in the last several months. But did I?"

"No."

"Why is that?"

"I don't fucking know."

You lay the hand not held in his, on to his cheek and turn his face to make him look at you. "Because I love you, Nathan."

"No you don't."

"Yes, I do. You're a real son of a bitch sometimes and I want to break your nose and choke you to death every once in a while but I care. I care about you, about your work, about your life. I want to be here, I want to be a part of your life Nathan. You don't have to be afraid. I'm not going anywhere."

Nathan gets up and you hold your joined hands tightly.

"Don't run away damn it!"

"I'm not! Would you let go!"

"I swear to fucking God if you lock yourself in that lab again I am going to get a battering ram."

He takes his glasses off and presses them into your palm. "Take these as collateral. I'll be right back."

You sit back on the couch and glare at his form as it disappears into the house. You clean his glasses carefully with the edge of your shirt and set them on the coffee table. He has to come back for them, he's as blind as a bat without them.

Nathan returns shortly with a small box. "I made these." He hands you the box and you open it as he puts his glasses back on. Inside are two black bands, rings.

"I don't understand."

"I made them because I know I can be difficult." He plucks one from the box. "They track the wearers vitals, change colors based on varying indicators, and they will work no matter how far apart they are."

"You made high tech mood rings."

He shoots you a glare. "I made them for you." He places the ring in his hand into your palm. "So you will know that I'm alright when I'm working long hours. I know I'm not the easiest to read and I don't have the easiest time expressing myself sometimes."

You put the ring on and it lights up a soft pink color. The moment Nathan slips his over his finger you can feel a soft steady pulse coming from the ring. "Is that your heartbeat?"

"Yeah." He holds his hand out and you can see his band is the same color pink. "I'll give you a breakdown on all the colors and functions later, but pink means the body is at ease."

"Do you love me? Just tell me, straight up no games."

"Yeah." He cups your cheek and brings you in for a kiss. "I love the shit out of you."

You break away from his kiss and press your foreheads together. "Can I ask just one more question?"

"Fire away."

"Is the dildo a mold of your dick?"

A smile spreads across his face and you already know the answer before he says it. "It is."

"You're a freak."

"And you absolutely love it."

You smile as he presses his lips to yours and pulls you over into his lap. "I guess I do."

The end

Please reblog if you read or like. Thank yo so much for reading! -A

Header by the lovey talented delicate-venus

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