#(like the author’s other book - the LI shows up after JUST long enough for me to have been enjoying the fact that it doesn’t have it lol) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoffstrap-yuri · 10 months ago

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For Sickness and in Health (Insurance)

ao3 // masterlist

*SUMMARY: Agent Strahm was by the book when it came to solving cases. Being honest about his marital status was a different story entirely.

*RATING: +18 for Explicit Mature Content

*CONTENT/TAGS: M/M, Hoffstrahm, Coffinshipping, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Fake Marriage/Dating, Fake Relationship, Eventual Smut, Alternate Universe

*STATUS: Chapter 2/2 COMPLETE

Author's Note: First Chapter of this fic can be found here! I'm back with the smut I promised in the tags! This is a bit longer but I felt the events of this happen in one go so I broke up the chapters the way I did to keep the flow of the story in tact. As always please enjoy my little crack and let me know if you'd be down for a sequel. I do have a tenative idea if anyone's interested u.u

The rest of the night was mostly uneventful. Strahm ordered in something for the both of them from Olive Garden. They ate mostly in silence, with the sound of rerun episode of General Hospital playing on the TV. Something about Sonny’s brother or son… not that Hoffman could keep up with all the characters on the show, but Strahm seemed mildly intrigued. Either he was a big soap opera fan or he was just looking for mindless entertainment to fill the void. It didn’t matter much either way for Hoffman. He laid down on the bed before making a sarcastic comment,

“You couldn’t spring for two beds, cheapskate?”

“This was the only room they had on short notice.”

“Then you should’ve found a different hotel.”

“Oh and what, find some dump over in Rosslyn on the other side of the Potomac? Fat chance.”

“Sounds like you have a nit to pick with Virginia, Agent.”

“So what if I do?” Strahm brushed off whatever it was that seemed to be on his shoulder and lied in bed next to Mark. There was a noticeable gap between the two of them as Strahm sat up to turn the TV off. He rolled over onto his side and faced Hoffman, before realizing it was a mistake and turning onto his other side just as fast. Mark turned over so his back was facing Strahm’s before purposefully inching his body closer to the man but not enough that Strahm could protest it. While Hoffman continued to toss and turn, he listened to the man’s snores. How Strahm managed to fall asleep so quickly was beyond the detective but it was comforting in its own strange way. Hoffman flipped back over so that his face was in line with the back of Strahm’s neck. He prayed the other man was a heavy sleeper as he slung an arm over Strahm’s body and held him against his chest. When the agent didn’t seem to react to the intrusion, Hoffman wrapped his other arm underneath Strahm’s neck and let his hand rest on Strahm’s chest.

“Good night, Hubby.” He whispered in Strahm’s ear before shutting his eyes and finally allowing himself to fall asleep. The intrusive noise of an alarm clock woke Hoffman up, practically jolting out of bed. He looked bitterly over at the agent next to him who rolled over to face the man. Strahm took a second to process another person being in bed with him, and then another to process that Hoffman was leaning over him with frankly gorgeous messy bed-head hair. Rather than say anything, Strahm pushed the other man away from his space, and sprinted to the bathroom. He came back out a few seconds later and grabbed his toiletries and his clothes for that day before promptly locking himself back into the bathroom. Hoffman felt around the bedside table on Strahm’s side for the TV remote so he had some kind of noise as he was in the process of waking up. After about five minutes of Strahm in the bathroom, Hoffman called out to him,

“You’d better hurry up, I still have to do my makeup.”

“I’m just shaving now.” Strahm shot back. Was Mark getting under the other man’s buttons

“I might have as well gone down and gotten breakfast for you the way you’re taking so long in there.”

“Alright, alright.” Strahm stepped out, rubbing aftershave onto his neck, “All yours, princess.”

“Thanks, dear.” Hoffman passed the other man and lightly slapped his ass. Strahm turned back and looked at him with disgust as Hoffman got into the bathroom. He set everything on the counter out so that he didn’t have to think about anything once he was finished showering. Strahm knocked on the door after he stepped out of the shower and asked,

“I’m going to grab coffee, you want anything from downstairs?”

“Coffee and some kind of muffin. Blueberry if they have it.” Hoffman replied, holding the eyeliner pencil in his hand. It couldn’t be that hard to draw a straight line along his eyelid. Hell he’d done it for Angie’s prom makeup. All he needed to do was remember that…

“And if they don’t?”

“Then skip it.” Hoffman scoffed

“Both or just the muffin?”

“Just the muffin,” Hoffman rolled his eyes before cursing under his breath, “Dumbass.”

“I’ll be back in five.”

“Make it ten, stupid.” Hoffman pressed the pencil against his eyelid and tried drawing the line in one foul swoop. It went terribly. The pencil dragged against the skin and looked like Mark’s hand had just decided to give up. He groaned and used the sink water to wipe it off and start again. The dark black kohl when washed away made it look like he hadn’t slept in years. Determined to get it right this time, he went back in and lightly drawing in short strokes. With the lack of practice, there was no way in hell he’d get a winged look done in time, so he moved on to his brows. He slicked them down until they were about as thin as the eyebrow pencil was and tried to make a defined arch with a combo of hairs and pencil. Strahm looked at disgust in the mirror. Strahm must know a blind guy in HR because this makeup was not going to fool anyone with less than a 20/200 eyesight. He took a deep breath and continued working on his face, applying a shade of foundation that was considerably orange with a concealer to match. The concealer seemingly helped to clean up the dark circles his eyeliner had created and the define the shape of the brows better than his handiwork could do alone. Next it was time for blush. It was a bright pink that didn’t seem to fit the foundation all that well, but it was pretty in the tin. Last was the lipstick. Hoffman lined the edges of his lips with a bright red lip liner and filled it in with a mousse lipstick. He blotted it and cleaned off his teeth with his finger tip as the makeup had smeared onto them. He looked repulsive, but he had to throw the wig on still so he begrudgingly put the fake hair on. He still thought he looked off, but at a glance he figured he could probably get away with this after all. Now was the real struggle, the clothes. Mark had bought something a little extra while Strahm was putzing around in the bathroom at the mall the previous day. He sucked in his gut and put on the waist trainer he purchased and a push-up bra that Strahm was more than happy to buy his partner in crime. He gave his chest a little squeeze before stepping into his dress and zipping it as far as his big fingers would let him. He heard the room door open and some shuffling noise before Strahm announced that he was here.

“Can you help me with the dress?” Hoffman asked, unlocking the door so that Strahm could get in with him. Strahm stepped in and looked at Hoffman’s back, his middle and index finger tracing their way along Hoffman’s spine. He pulled his hand back before helping the detective zip up. Hoffman turned around to face him, hooking his arm around Strahm’s waist before purring in a low woman’s voice, “What do you think of your wife, huh?”

“I…” Strahm started before clearing his throat which turned into a coughing fit before he could recover and said, “Got you a muffin.” “You’re the best.” Hoffman took his other hand and pressed it firmly against Strahm’s pecs before sidestepping him to get his breakfast. While Hoffman was peeling the wrapper off the muffin, Strahm stood in the bathroom absolutely stunned for another minute. He was only snapped back to reality when Hoffman’s voice dropped back down to its natural tone, “Come on Agent, your coffee’s getting cold.”

“Yeah.” Strahm shook his head and grabbed the disposable cup before chugging the coffee inside. He threw the cup into the bin and said quietly, “I’m going to go warm up the car. See you in a couple minutes.”

“Whatever you say.” Hoffman twirled the ends of his wig around his pointer finger before rolling his eyes and finishing his drink. Before leaving the room, he grabbed the keys and did a quick touch up on his lipstick that had stained the white of the Styrofoam coffee cup and walked down to where Agent Strahm had parked the car. He walked with a bravado he tried to steal from Angie when she had bought her first pair of heels as a teenager. He saw the way men were looking at his ass in the elevator. He smirked with the quiet satisfaction that apparently he was hot enough to get heads turning as he made long strides through the lobby and to Strahm’s car. He leaned against the driver’s side door as he saw Strahm taking a drag off a cigarette. Strahm dropped the cancer stick onto his lap and quietly cursed before putting it out on the plastic cup holder in the car,

“The hell do you think you’re doing over there?” He looked Hoffman up and down

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I’ve been trying to quit for 10 years.”

“Shame. Hand me one and light it for me.” Hoffman said leaning down into the window. Strahm shoved a cigarette into the other man’s plump lips and lit it quickly. Mark took a drag off his cigarette before letting it rest on the side of his mouth and giving Strahm’s hair a quick scruff. “Thanks babe”. He walked to the other side of the car and sat in the passenger’s seat. Strahm put the car into reverse quickly and started driving to the office. While they waited in traffic, Strahm would flip through the radio stations to see what had changed since he last made a trip down to DC. Mark kept flipping the sun visor down to look at his makeup while the other man shouted obscenities at tourists for not knowing they needed to merge back into traffic sooner rather than now. Mark wrapped his hands around Strahm’s arms as he swore and that seemed to calm the other man down enough where his obscenities would be mere grumbles. “Good boy.”

“Don’t call me that.” Strahm protested

“My darling dearest husband?” Hoffman offered

“You can use the other one.” The agent mumbled as he made the turn to get off the tollway and onto local roads. They pulled into the parking lot and after showing his ID and confirmation of his appointment they were let in. Hoffman wrapped his hands around Strahm’s arms again and whispered into his ear

“Pretend I’m telling you something funny, and look down at the floor.” Strahm did was as he was told, giving a little laugh as he stared down the tiles underfoot. Hoffman repeated, “Good boy.” They took the elevator up to the offices where Strahm unhooked Hoffman and stood on the other side of the space. “Get back here.” Hoffman said between a faked smile, “What if someone gets in with us and sees us apart?”

“I’ll tell them to go fuck themselves. You don’t need to continue this show and dance in here.”

“And how are we supposed to sell the act?”

“We’ll be fine.” Strahm assured Hoffman. When the door opened and they got off, Hoffman’s arm found its way back to resting against Peter’s tailbone. The receptionist checked Peter in and they sat down next to each other before being greeted by another agent and following him to his cubicle space.

“So Mr. and Mrs. Strahm…” He started, “What’s your wife’s first name?”

“It’s…” Hoffman started to answer before Strahm quickly interjected with a cough. Hoffman slipped back into his falsetto and waited for Strahm to answer

“Marka. Her name is Marka.” Strahm replied, “Yeah. Mail order from Russia. Doesn’t understand a whole lot of English.”

“Oh, interesting. I actually just started learning Russian… Um, privet…”

“Sorry, Belarusian. Belarusian mail order bride.” Strahm corrected himself

“Da.” Hoffman responded, batting his eyelashes hard at the agent before them

“Oh that’s a shame. Don’t know any Belarusian. Maybe I’ll trying taking courses someday.”

“Super helpful.” Strahm cracked

“Okay so… your wife Marka Strahm. Do you have her papers?”

“I no have.” Hoffman replied, “but is okay, yeah?”

“Okay.” The guy looked over the two of them. Strahm wasn’t sweating bullets but he was certainly on the edge of his seat. Hoffman crossed his legs in his chair and rested a hand on his husband’s lap, inching closer to his bulge. His bulge? He gave the agent a look for a second, before turning it into a look of confusion.

“I am doing right, yeah?” He asked Strahm

“Yeah, you’re doing fine honey.” Strahm pressed a hand against Hoffman’s stomach, “We’re trying to make sure this one has coverage before the baby.” Mark blinked rapidly as he processed what bullshit Strahm had just said. Was this his plan from the beginning?

“Do you at least have your marriage certificate?” The agent asked Strahm

“Yeah, right here.” Strahm handed over a piece of paper before quickly scribbling in something while the agent wasn’t looking. Hoffman couldn’t keep himself from looking and he saw that Strahm had managed to poorly write ‘Marka Hoffman’ over his previous wife’s name on the certificate. He gave Strahm a look that only could be read as ‘Are you fucking stupid?’ The agent scanned the document and added it to the database before excusing the couple but not before saying,

“Oh and congrats on the baby.”

“Thanks.” Strahm quickly replied and guided his bride down the hallway and back into the elevator

“Well that could’ve gone better.” Hoffman scoffed and looked at Strahm, “The hell were you thinking?”

“It didn’t go as bad as I thought it would.” Strahm shrugged

“Oh you thought I was going to do poorly, huh?” The detective raised his voice, “And what the hell was with you fondling my stomach like that, saying I was pregnant, you stupid idiot. Dumb motherfucker. I bet you like this, huh?”

“What?” Strahm coughed, clearly not expecting this to turn into a confrontation

“That’s right, I was palming your bulge in those stupid pants of yours when you touched me. I bet you love questionable men tuning into fat broads for you with some makeup and dresses, huh?” Hoffman started but could tell he struck a nerve with Strahm. Strahm was cornered and he did the last thing he could think of to save any sense of self preservation he had left. He pressed his lips desperately onto Hoffman’s and moaned into their kiss. He wrapped his arms lazily around the other man and sucked at his bottom lip. “Oh… oh what a slut you are, Peter Strahm.”

“S-Shut up.” Strahm pulled himself away from Hoffman’s lips, but not off of Hoffman’s body. The door opened to a group of young agents waiting to use the elevator. Strahm quickly scuttled off the elevator without much dignity, while Hoffman walked off with confidence. Strahm tried to duck quietly into the bathroom but Hoffman followed him in and kicked open the stall door before Strahm could lock it. Strahm cursed as the door swung back into him and looked at Hoffman with a certain kind of lust. Was it a carnal lust, or blood lust? Either way it didn’t matter to Mark in this moment.

“Why didn’t you tell me this was all just some big kink for you, huh?” He took Strahm’s chin into her hand and jerked his head around, “That you like men that act like fat broads?”

“Would you really believe me if I told you that?” Strahm growled, placing a hand on the door behind Hoffman and pressing his weight into the heavier man. Despite his anger, his lips made contact with Hoffman’s forehead first and he took in the smell of Hoffman’s wig. He used his free hand to wrap around Hoffman’s waist and pulled the man in even closer. Hoffman was tired of waiting with Strahm. He pulled him in by his tie for a kiss on the lips and wrapped the tie tightly around his hand. Strahm made a quiet coughing noise as he was being depraved of oxygen in all the right ways. Strahm shivered and bit down on Hoffman’s lip. “I need you.”

“How?”

“Want you on me.” Strahm groaned

“You’re a man. Use your fucking words.” Mark was short with him. Enough with the lies, enough of the bullshit. Was that agent they talked to even an HR person or was he just another part of the ruse? He wouldn’t accept anything less than Strahm’s breathless devotion to him in this moment.

“I want you like a rabid bitch, bouncing on my cock.” Strahm said in a husky voice, pained with want. You would’ve thought Hoffman shot him and left the hole opened the way he whined.

“There. Was that so hard to tell me?” Hoffman spit out. Hoffman pulled up his dress and when he stumbled back a little bit Strahm’s arms moved to keep him held flush against his chest. “So strong.”

“Stop teasing and let me fuck you already.” Strahm said, before kissing Hoffman’s neck with every intent on bruising or marking him

“Take my panties off.”

Strahm took his arms away and slid the waist trainer down off Mark’s hips, leaving them at his ankles, “I was wondering how you got those hip dips so… nice.”

“Just shut up. You want to fuck me, then hurry up and fuck me you stupid asshole.”

Strahm slips the lingerie barely holding Hoffman’s boner in down and onto the ground. He stares for a second before he takes a hold of Hoffman’s body and spins it one-hundred eighty degrees so that Mark’s face is up against the cold steel. He takes Hoffman’s hands and holds them over Hoffman’s head, using his feet to spread Hoffman just little bit further apart.

“Will you be a good whore and if I let go of your hands so I can get my pants off, you’ll keep them where they are?” Strahm asked

“Anything for my husband.” Hoffman said with a hit of sarcasm. Strahm pulled his hand away and to his word Hoffman kept his hands over his head. He heard the sound of Strahm’s belt being unbuckled and pants falling to the floor. Without so much as a word, Strahm was thrusting into Hoffman’s ass. “Fuck Pete.”

“Yeah, say that again.” Strahm grunted

“Fucking hell… no one’s ever been able to satisfy you like I have, huh?”

“No.” Strahm replied between thrusts

“Sure you might’ve had fat partners but they could never please you the way that I do, you stupid pervert. I bet no one’s ever felt this good on your cock like this fat broad, huh?”

“No…” Strahm managed to cough out between broken moans

“No what? I’m not the best you’ve ever had, or no one’s ever compared to me?” Hoffman’s foundation was getting smeared all over the door of the stall as Strahm kept chasing his release

“You’re the best… no other…” Strahm made one final loud grunt as the tension that had been pooling in the bottom of his stomach came out in short bursts up Hoffman’s ass. When sense seemingly returned to his head, he took Hoffman by his jawline and kissed his cheek. “You’re taking it so good…” His lips sloppily connected with the one chiseled feature Hoffman had while his hands trailed wildly across Hoffman’s body. He was feeling up the bra that Hoffman’s chest was confined by, rubbing the other man’s stomach and kneading at the tender fat that rested just above his belt line in his normal work clothes.

“Fucking chubby chasing pervert.” Hoffman cursed under his breath while wearing a giant smirk. Strahm even brushed up against the erection that Hoffman had been trying to ignore up until this point. “Don’t touch me if you don’t intend on getting me off here, Agent.”

“Fine, I guess we’ll just have to save it for our hotel room.” Strahm pulled himself out of Hoffman’s hole, making sure to dirty up Mark’s inner thighs with his cum before cleaning himself off with a piece of toilet paper. He pulled his pants up fast and helped the detective look semi-presentable as they would walk out the entrance and back to the car. There was no saving Mark’s makeup, he’d have to walk out of the bathroom with half his dolled up face gone and the other half determined to stay on in spite of the sweat beads dribbling down his forehead. As Hoffman took the first step out of the stall he paused at the sink and held onto the porcelain tightly. He had no idea how much it would fucking hurt to walk after he got fucked. Strahm didn’t seem to notice the pain he was in as his hands squeezed his ass cheeks.

“Agent, you’re losing your cool.” Hoffman teased him

“It’s all I’m good for apparently.” Strahm shot back, making one more desperate attempt to be connected to his detective partner with benefits. He kissed along the hem of Hoffman’s neckline before walking out of the bathroom completely

“Fucking tease.” Hoffman huffed as he washed his hands and followed his fake husband’s lead and met him in the hallway. Some men happened to walk by in that moment, and after giving Strahm a once over look, they continued their conversation they were having previously. Strahm quickly wrapped an arm around Hoffman’s waist and led him out of the building. Hoffman wrapped an arm around Strahm’s neck and crooned for him as they passed the guard they dealt with early that morning to get in. They were over the top in their display of newlywed affection, but they were definitely selling it. Strahm barely made it to the parameter of the car before Hoffman was pushing him into the vehicle. Strahm’s hands found their way back to caressing Hoffman’s ass cheeks as his tongue worked its way into Mark’s mouth.

“Wonder who’s watching us, don’t you Agent?”

“No.” Strahm moaned, wrapping his hands around the back of Hoffman’s neck. “Get in the car.”

“Fine. No need to be so rough, agent.” Hoffman unhooked the other man’s hands, purposefully rolling his ‘r’ along his tongue for longer than was necessary. Strahm unglued himself from the side of the vehicle and shoved himself into the driver’s seat. He backed the sedan up with reckless abandon and sped out of the DMV. He pulled into their hotel parking lot and before he could shut his car off, Hoffman’s hand brushed over Strahm’s hand on the gear shift and locked their fingers. He pulled Strahm’s hand up to his lips and kissed Strahm as he locked eyes with the special agent. His special agent. “Wait.”

“What?” Strahm mumbled. Hoffman fumbled through his purse and pulled out his tube of lipstick before applying a fresh layer, only to use the back of Strahm’s hand to blot it off. It left a clear impression on the detective’s skin and Strahm bucked his hips up a little in response. “I can’t wait any longer. You’re a damn tease.”

“If I’m a tease, then you’re a con man.” Hoffman quickly countered, but acquiesced and got out of the car. He leaned up against the window and flashed their key card, “Hurry it up, hubby.”

“I’m hurrying.” Strahm remarked, wrestling with his seat belt to get out of the car that much quicker. Hoffman was five steps ahead of the agent and purposefully closed the door behind himself in the elevator. Strahm hit the door once before getting looks at from the family who had just stepped off. Strahm made a beeline to the stairs, thanking god they were only on the fourth floor and practically sprinted up the stairs. Nearly out of breath, the agent made it up to the door of their room and felt himself up to find the hotel key, only to realize that Hoffman had the only copy on him. He knocked on the door and Hoffman opened it up. It took him seconds to get to the point where Strahm could slip in, but with his level of arousal Strahm could’ve sworn it took Hoffman hours to open the damn door. When the door closes behind him, he pins Hoffman’s back to the door and they enter another cycle of sloppy, wet kisses between the two men.

“Careful agent, my back goes any further into this door and you’ll tear the damn thing off its hinges.”

“I’d enjoy that.” Strahm growled

“I bet you would, dick.” Hoffman smirked, wiping his smeared lipstick from the side of Strahm’s lips. Strahm glanced to the side as something black appeared in the corner of his eye. Hoffman’s stretched out waist trainer laid on the floor and there was a much more noticeable curve underneath Hoffman’s dress. “Now tell me Agent Strahm, what do you need from me so badly you came running up here all out of breath for?”

“Maybe I was just coming for some post-coitus cuddles.” Strahm replied dryly. Strahm tried to kiss Hoffman’s lips again, but Hoffman turned his head away. Strahm’s lips however did connect with the wooden door

“Just answer me, then we’ll both get what we want.” Hoffman’s fingers walked along the back of Strahm’s neck, smoothing down the raised hairs in his path. Strahm shook his head, trying to overcome the goosebumps that were spreading across his body with anticipation

“I’m going to fuck your tits.” Strahm blurted out

“Dress on or off, you pervert?” Hoffman leaned in and bit down on Strahm’s lower lip

“On.” Strahm pulled Hoffman over to the bed, guiding the detective over by his wrist. He shoved the detective down onto the floor on his knees before him. He ran a hand through the fibers of the wig and pulled on the back slightly, moving the hairline back to reveal Hoffman’s natural brown. Hoffman shot him a look before fixing his wig quickly. “This isn’t going to work…”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“Here.” Strahm pulled Hoffman back up onto his feet before shoving him onto their bed. The detective unbuckled his belt and let his pants slide off onto the floor. He carefully positioned himself over Hoffman before sitting on Hoffman’s ribs. The shift in weight was enough to make Mark miss a breath of air and he glared up at his agent. “Just hold your boobs together and take it, princess.”

“So fucking rough to your wife.” Hoffman griped, but held his pecs together and gave Strahm a perfect divot for him to fuck himself with. Strahm shoved himself between Hoffman’s chest and let his eyes roll to the back of his head. With a thrust Strahm was swallowed by pleasure. The fabric of Hoffman’s dress gave him a rough surface to fuck against while his ass kept pressing itself up against the soft fat of Hoffman’s belly. Strahm came almost unceremoniously quick, stopping his thrusts to make sure that his semen filled the divot in Hoffman’s chest where his head connected to the rest of his body. When that crevice was full, the semi-fluid matter spilled down towards Hoffman’s collarbones. When he was spent, Strahm carefully crawled off the man below him and laid on his back on the bed. Some dull thing began to ache along his spine. They sat in silence for a moment before Hoffman sat up and went to the bathroom to clean himself off. Strahm was almost ashamed of his stamina, but remembered he’d already used up more than half of it back in the FBI building. Hoffman came back out, this time without his clothes or his wig and lied in bed next to Strahm. When it didn’t seem like the agent was going to make the first move, Hoffman rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around Strahm. Strahm made a soft grunting noise as the other man’s arms snaked around his back. Hoffman went one step further and kissed Strahm’s cheek before turning Strahm’s face towards his own.

“What?” Strahm gave him a confused look

“Aren’t you going to hold your bride? You couldn’t keep your hands off of me earlier.” Hoffman protested

“My back hurts.” Strahm complained, but scooped an arm around Hoffman’s shoulders. He was nice enough to lift the covers up over their cooling bodies. “Good job.”

“Huh?”

“Good job. With the fake marriage thing.” Strahm’s face turned a soft red

“My pleasure, honey.” Hoffman rested a hand against Strahm’s stomach before pressing his lips onto Strahm’s. Strahm returned the kiss quietly and moved his free hand to rest against Hoffman’s cheek. He thumbed the soft flesh before humming a tune. “You know…”

“What do I know?” Strahm responded

“This was a shit honeymoon.”

“Huh?”

“Hell you don’t even buy me a ring, and the first thing you do is make me sign off on some papers. Really gets the blood going.” Hoffman scoffed, “At the very least, you could take me out for a real dinner.”

“Fine. Tonight?”

“No. I want something when we get back. I’m thinking somewhere in the village?”

“I fucking hate trying to park in the village.” Strahm complained

“Or midtown.”

“You’re a fucking asshole.”

“I know I am.” Hoffman purred ever so slightly, having more fun with this back and forth cat and mouse game with Strahm than he could have ever expected.

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yaut-jaknowit · 2 years ago

Note

Let’s eat Gawain out

Tasting Her

Pairing: Gawtin (Female Yautja) x AFAB Reader

Warnings: Cunnilingus, oral sex (female recieving), dom!Gawtin, sub!reader, alien pussy, smut.

Word Count: 2942 (still not enough for our goddess)

Summary: Gawtin is extremely dominate. Even if you think you're in control, she controlling on what you do. This time is no different but it's well worth a try to get her to loosen up. You finally get to taste her.

Author Note: Fuck yes. Fucking yes. I've been waiting for this for so long. I have it in my writing prompts but I've been wanting someone to ask this. Thank you so much. I full heartily agree. I love her so much.

Masterlist

Ao3

It took countless times of begging, pleading, using puppy dog eyes to get Gawtin to relent. The Yautja males weren’t kidding when they said she was very dominate and stubborn. That you’ve learned after the time you’ve spent with here on her planet.

Qui’oky was over at his Auntie’s, Bziut-ty, The poor child didn’t need to be here while you and his mother played with one another. You blushed at the thought as you walked away from Bziut-ty dwelling. She called out to you, “Tell Gaw I say to take it easy on you this time. You poor thing needs to walk.” Your lips pressed together at her words, eyes widening.

When the first time you and Gawtin learned about each other’s bodies and went to retrieve Qui, she smelled the scent of sex on you. A bath didn’t get rid of it for a couple days, according to Bziut-ty and Gawtin. At that moment, you wanted the planet to swallow you whole. Even the males avoided you, you had been marked by her as hers.

Your footsteps quickened to return home to Gawtin. Who was waiting. Who was waiting for you. For you. Fuck. The nerves were starting to eat you alive. It was accompanied by excitement for what’s to come though. This was the first time you’ve done this before. Book and research do help but it can do so much compared to physically learning. Your hands tremble at your sides. God, you can do this. Its just Gawtin. She’ll help, guide you. She won’t get mad. She’s never been mad at you. You are learning, there nothing to be angry about that.

Everything is going to be okay.

Gawtin lied back on the concave bed covered in furs, completely naked and open to you. You’ve seen her before like this. So exposed to you. Yet, your eyes were pinned to her toned body like you’ve never seen the Yautja before.

As a breastfeeding mother, her breasts were slightly enlarged for the time being. A little weight had been gained during pregnancy from what you’ve been told. Not that you could tell. She was still toned like a body builder. She knew this was something you liked and happily showed you her body at every chance.

Your eyes drifting down to her open legs, lips pressed together at the sight. This was your chance, your first time at this. You couldn’t mess up. Not now. Be confident. You can do this. You took a step forward. Gawtin started to purr, resting on an elbow and eyes zeroed on you. The next step, you tripped on air and fell to your knees.

Immediately, you scrambled back to your feet and rushed the rest of the way into the bed, still clothed. You were knelt between her open legs when a hand softly wrapped around your neck, eyes snapping up to her. “Nervous?” she quietly questioned, easily reading you like an open book. All you could do was nod. Even as you tried to dominate her, you were already falling back into the submissive person she loved to devour. So adorable. “It is alright, artful one. We learn together. Do not fret.”

Her voice was honey and worked like a medicine. Your tense shoulders slumped, body softening. “Good ooman. So good.” A yelp escaped from you. She knew how to mess with you, push all the right buttons. “Now, please me.” You dipped your head down confidently. Gawtin squeezed your throat before releasing.

Foreplay was a must for you when it came to her penetrating you. Lube was always in the nightstand nearby, but this was different. You wanted to make this feel good for her. She deserves it after all the times she’s pleased with little thought about herself. This was your one chance; you couldn’t mess up.

It was a little difficult to straddle her lower stomach and not put much weight on her. Your knees didn’t even meet the ground on either side of Gawtin. Her only free hand came up and rested on your spread thigh.

Your hands trembled as you reached out and cupped a lower mandible. The purr that rumbled vibrated from her skin up that limb. A sweaty palm drifted down to rest on the column of the predator’s throat; though your digits didn’t even reach the sides where an important artery sat. Her eyes immediately narrowed, body tensing underneath you. Your heart thumping wildly within its bony cage.

Instead of freezing as your form so desperately wanted to, you leaned down, eyes locked onto her before her jaw got in the way. Your tongue licked up a stripe then teeth softly latching onto the flesh there. The Yautja tensed underneath you, breaths becoming shallow. Her claws starting to bite into the muscle that made up your thighs. “Good girl,” you tested the waters, now hiding from her sharp gaze.

A keen broke the quiet afterwards. Your jaw dropped at the sound before a wicked, confident smirk graced your face. Perfect. Exactly what you wanted. This meant Gawtin was opening up to this. Letting loose of the reins so you can show her the pleasure she bestows on you in the heat of the moment.

This gave you what was needed to continue. Your tongue started at the base of her throat on the other side again, repeating the earlier actions.

This time, Gawtin’s hips thrusted up, knocking you further up her body by a little. If only you had the strength to pin them down. “Does that feel good, love?” you questioned, voice becoming raspy. Your heart rate increasing as you felt yourself dampen your underwear. But this wasn’t about you. There were more important things at hand.

A few more licks and bites was feeding into your confidence, making you cocky. After releasing her from your teeth, you straightened your spine to stare down at the goddess panting. Her purple irises were overtaken by the black pupils. Her mandibles were twitching with energy. God, she was striking like this. She had to let you do this more if she looked and act like this. The power was phenomenal.

In the start of the moment, you paused any sexual action to bring your hand back to her lower jaw. “You look so beautiful, Gawtin,” you whispered underneath your breath, barely heard to your own ears. This was Gawtin we’re talking about. She heard you alright.

Green flew across your sight. Something sturdy latched around the column of your throat and shoved you back. Once you were off of her, it tugged your head forward, straight towards her glistening vagina. She released her physical hold on you but her blazing eyes were pinned onto you.

You placed your hands on her thighs as if that’ll keep them open if she closed them. Gawtin purred at you, vibrations could be felt throughout her body. You eyed up her exposed vagina, trying to figure out a game plan. This was your first timenas the giver.

It was definitely alien. Three clitorises, ribbed folds. Alien looking but beautiful. And it would be your first time eating her out. You hoped not to disappoint her.

With a hesitant thumb, you placed it on the upper clit, eyes snapping up to Gawtin. Her reaction was just deepening her purr and eyes slightly hooded. That thumb slid down then back up, your eyes still watching as Gawtin’s mandibles tightened to her face. You continued to do that action.

The Yautja laid a hand over yours and helped guide you. “Like this, artful one.” The limb was twisted, thumb still nested on her three clits but the middle two digits were placed on her moist entrance. Yet, your thumb was used to swab a little of her slick then it was returned back to its former spot. “Light circles.” You followed her command to a T.

The purr deep within her chest grew louder, hips thrusting up just an inch. “Yes,” she hissed as you played with all three clits at the same time. When the slick dried up each time, you kept dipping your thumb back down for more. “Like that. Keep do that.”

Whatever she commanded, you listened. No matter what position the two of you were in, she was always dominant. Even if you thought yourself would be. It was in her nature and yours to be.

As this continued in the same fashion, you grew hungry. You wanted a taste. This was what all this was about anyhow. She’s tasted you so many times before in different positions. Now, the opportunity has risen, and you were happily going to take it. With that, you leaned forward, hand twisting so your middle and ring finger were no longer in the way.

Your tongue flattened against the bottom of her entrance before dragging up. The taste and smell of Gawtin was striking. It wasn’t like anything you’ve ever had the chance to experience before. Your eyes narrowed. Gawtin keened again, stomach muscles flexing as she started to pant again. You were quick to go in for a second testing, tongue running over her three clits. This drew an actual moan from the alien before you.

Her gorgeous sound struck you deep within your core, your own clit throbbing. It was hidden beneath the layers of your clothing.

When you had to breath, not yet figuring out how to, “God, you taste delicious, love.” You dove back in for two more licks, letting your thumb play with her upper clit again. “Why didn’t you let me do this earlier?” you whined to her, burying your face back between her legs. By the gods, she should’ve given this opportunity to you ages ago.

The hands on her thighs switched to underneath them as if you could pull her closer. It was a hopefully action. Gawtin silently laughed at this but let you do what you wanted to. She wasn’t complaining at the feel of your tongue dipping between her folds. It wasn’t something she has ever felt before. Your words were completely truth. Maybe she should’ve let you do this more often when the opportunity appeared.

Then an idea came to your mind. When your tongue reached her upper clit, you paused then wrapped your soft lips around them. You sucked.

Gawtin keened, elbow failing to hold up her weight and back arching off the bed. Her deadly claws grasped at the pelts below, doing everything not to pull you closer and possibly injure you. Yet, the alien’s thick, powerful thighs locked around your head, completely trapping you. All sound blocked, leaving to just her taste and watch her back arch. You didn’t stop.

If you were to die, this was the way. You kept the same amount of pressure, unsure if sucking harder would over sensitize her. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt her. Everything was going good. Then you realized something worrying.

Your lungs were burning for oxygen.

But the way she looked so pretty and enticing. How could you be the monster to take that away from her? The beauty of her back arched, hands clawing for purchase, and the sound she made. Fuck, you wished she made more noises when she fucked you into the bed, marking you up for the males to know who you belong to.

The need overcame you though. It was instinct. You released the suction on her up clit. Gawtin’s thighs fell away from you. You were swift to pull back, lips glisten and puffy, drool dripping down your chin. Or was it Gawtin’s slick?

Shallow, rapid breaths filled up your lungs with air. Yet, your eyes were pinned down at the alien. Her eyes closed, chest doing the same as yours. Your gaze drifted down to find that upper clit to be bright green and engorged, two inches in length. You weren’t done with her though. She hadn’t come yet and it was your mission to make sure she did.

Before you dove back in, you smiled at her, love pooling in your irises. “I’m going to make you come. I’m not done. Don’t worry, love,” you promised her with a throaty voice. You returned back to your former position before she could speak a word.

Now you knew her weakness but would use it sparingly. Breathing was an, unfortunate, need for you. Instead, you went back to shoving your tongue between her folds to lick at her slick. It coated your chin at this point, something you were loving on. This is what you’ve been missing in life all these years: your head buried into an alien you loved’s cunt.

Gawtin’s hand finally released the pelt to grasp at the back of your head, entangling your hair. The purr started back up in full force, stuttering here and there. “So good, ooman. You’re doing so good for me. Keep doing that and I’ll come for you. You want to taste when I come?” She had gathered back her dominant personality to tell you that. She was in charge. There was no arguing about that.

You refused to pull back, away from her, and nodded rapid with a groan. She would get the point. God, she was so perfect like this. Still commanding you on what to do while you ate her out like a thirsty dog.

Nothing in the universe could stop you. Every three drags of your tongue, you would wrap your lips softly around one of her clits until each one was engorged and twitching. She tasted so different, but it was heavenly. She had to let you do this again. Maybe she will if you use those dear, sweat puppy eyes on her.

When you took a moment to breathe as the edges of your vision darkened, you laid wet kisses on the inside of her thighs. You even dared to suckle and bite them. Her claws dug into your scalp at the feeling. “Yes,” she hissed, “yes, keep going, artful one. I’m so close.” Your eyes were set ablaze at her words. This was all your doing. You were going to make her come with just your mouth.

At that thought, you continued licking up a stripe between her ribbed folds. Her thick thighs trembled on either side of your head. If she used her full strength, your head would probably pop like a grape but oh well.

Her moans gained pitch, on the verge of sounding needy as she tried to compose herself. Yet, the way you licked and suckle on her most intimate parts… she was falling apart quicker than she could gather herself.

Blazing heat exploded in her stomach, the band snapping. A deafening roar echoed in the room. Both of her hands grasped at your head and pulled you into her, nose squishing against her mound. You didn’t stop sucking, mindful of how much was too much. Gawtin’s thighs completely encased your head, pain flaring to life, but you pushed past it. This was about her. If you were to die, so be it.

Yet, that nagging, irritating need for air started to burn within your chest. Shit. Your vision first went blurry the long this went on, but you couldn’t stop. This was about her. So be it. You kept your lips locked around her clit, tongue lightly lapping at it. All your mind was saying was how good she was being and how gorgeous she looked like that.

She was goddess in the streets and sheets. The way she moved as she sparred or hunted. It always had you throbbing for her.

Gawtin’s thickly corded thighs and tensed arms finally released their deadly hold you. Your first reaction was to surge back, lungs harshly gasping for air. Tears were prickling the corner of your eyes as you peered down at her. She didn’t stay still.

Instead, she rushed towards you, hands coming to cup your cheeks. Your own holding onto her arms. “Are you okay? I apologize, I did not know-“ she asked, concern thick in her voice but you interrupted Gawtin by giggling. You pushed forward to straddle her torso and wrapped your arms around her neck.

“I fucking loved that, love. Please, I beg you, to let me do that again. If I have to, I will get on my knees,” you pleaded with her, eyes shining with tears. Your head was lightly pounding from the lack of oxygen and the shear strength of her thighs.

Nothing came from her. Gawtin stared at you for a few long moments. You hoped she was at least considering it. “You would look so pretty on your knees,” she trailed off at the thought quietly. Your lips pressed together. It was a possibility. Then, you licked at your lips. “And you did so good for me.” There she is. The dominate Gawtin we all know and love. Your cunt clenched around nothing.

She leaned forward, breath tickling over your moist skin. Then, her pink tongue darted out and licked at the slick probably dripping from your chin. Without meaning to, your hips jutted forward, clit dragging along her tensed torso.

“I am impressed. You did good. I shall allow you more opportunities in the future. But for now, think I should repay you.” Then an idea came to mind. You smirked.

“How about I show you a position we humans do?” Sixty-nine will be hard to with her size but lying down should help with that.

Once your explained it to her, Gawtin’s face broke with a smirk just yours. “You oomans do have good ideas once in awhile.”

#yautja smut #female yautja #yautja #smut #yautja x #yautja x reader #yautja x human #yautja x you #female predator #alien vs predator #predator #gawtin

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thiswaycomessomethingwicked · 1 year ago

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Marsilio Ficino to Giovanni Cavalcanti, his unique friend: In the book in praise of Philosophy, which I wrote this year for Bernardo Bembo, the Venetian ambassador, I tried with many arguments to show that Philosophy teaches all things. I ought to have made the one exception, that she does not teach us how to live with princes. For if she forbids this altogether, as indeed she does, she cannot teach us how. She altogether forbids it, it seems to be, since she commands the opposite; for in discovering the love of truth she surely requires a tranquil mind and a free life. However, truth does not dwell in the company of princes; only lies, spiteful criticism and fawning flattery, men pretending to be what they are not and pretending not to be what they are.

[emphasis mine]

Ficino out here just being utterly scathing in his fury and heartbreak about politicians being Like That.

This is basically a two-and-a-half page long screed about princes and their many, many faults - particularly focusing on princes who throw their former tutors under the bus.

It is worth considering those great philosophers whose memory we cherish who would have been far more successful than others in living with princes and kings if only Philosophy were able to teach men that [temperance, prudence etc.]. I shall not describe how the young Octavian, being ungrateful to the services of his friend, the distinguished philosopher Cicero, handed him over for no good reason to his unscrupulous enemies for execution. Nero condemned to death without cause his own teacher, the venerable philosopher Seneca. Alexander, king of Macedon, is said to have thrown his own teacher, the philosopher Callisthenes, to the lions, simply because he was often torn to shreds in argument.

Ficino goes on. The original ending of the letter to Giovanni is:

But allow me to return now to philosophers to conclude my discourse. Let no one be so ignorant of man's capacity as to believe that he can play the part of philosopher fitly and freely, and at the same time live with safety and serenity in the company of princes.

Like woooo boy was Marsilio on a RAMPAGE that day. Just tearing it up on the page. Telling, too, that he writes this letter to Giovanni and evidently trusts him enough to do it.** Sure, it was likely written in 1476, two years before the Pazzi conspiracy, but a) people keep letters and b) even in '76 it would have landed him in hot water.

[** this is me vague-ing an essay I read the other day where the author was like "yeah, it was one sided pathetic, desperate love on Ficino's side. nothing more." my dude, Marsilio was out here writing letters to Giovanni that could have got him hanging from a window next to Jacopo Bracciolini, Salviati and Francesco Pazzi. Pretty sure there was some mutual love and trust happening. I cannot over emphasize how careful Ficino was in his writing, especially his correspondence. Anyway.]

An interesting note is that after the Pazzi Plot occurred, the ending Marsilio included that is basically like: obviously the Medici are different, they're "something greater and more sacred [than princes]. For their singular virtues and great merit deserve more than any human title. They are father of their country in a free state."

That ending was removed because no one knew if the Medici were going to survive the political upheaval. It was likely scratched out by Salvini, Ficino's nephew/cousin(?) and secretary. I would say that the little "But Not the Medici" was likely a caveat on Ficino's part in case the letter escaped from Giovanni's hands. Ficino was smart like that. He did care for Lorenzo, no doubt, if in a complicated fashion. But that doesn't mean he was unaware or blind to Lorenzo's faults.

Ficino seemed to have not been in Florence when the Pazzi conspiracy went down, which was good for him given that he was partially implicated in it. Sort of. (As in, he was close friends with most of the main players and one of them was his major patron since Lorenzo was being stingy as-fuck with the money.)

(Lorenzo eventually cleared suspicion from Ficino - though they were always a bit cool after that. Not that I think they were ever very warm towards each other. But my thoughts on Ficino and Lorenzo's relationship are for another post. Basically, even if Ficino didn't know what was up for the conspiracy, he certainly knew, or guessed, enough to send strongly worded letters to literally everyone involved telling them to cool their fucking heels and not do stupid things in the pursuit of power/glory/worldliness etc. Also, convenient that he wasn't in the city... I just feel like someone gave him a tip-off...)

All of this is aside, basically I'm certain Ficino's original letter was 100% a massive fucking bitch-fest about Lorenzo not being a good patron to Ficino on multiple levels - all those references to princes who unjustly condemned their tutors when Ficino was one of Lorenzo's early tutors? He wasn't being subtle. And god help us, Ficino can be subtle as fuck when he wants to be.

Interestingly, Ficino includes a para' on poets getting the bad end of the stick from princes (Ovid, Lucan, Statius) which I think is him not necessarily warning Giovanni (who was a poet), since in 1476 there was no cause for worry over anything, but certainly alluding to poets who suffered when princes went foul. "It's not just me who needs to worry about mercurial nature of princes but you as well, babe."

anyway, not going anywhere particular with this nor am I likely saying anything that hasn't been said before about the letter, but just having some brain worms, as usual.

#marsilio ficino #giovanni cavalcanti #marsilio blogging #renaissance italy #pazzi conspiracy #early modern italy #renaissance florence #history #15th century #1478 - rough year #ficino never wanted the Medici removed from power #He just had a complicated and mercurial relationship with Lorenzo

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bereft-of-frogs · 10 months ago

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is friday. have a list.

reading:

(finished) Notes on an Execution - Danya Kukafka: Still excellent, still thinking about the ending

(in-progress) The Great Transition - Nick Fuller Goggins: I got this from the person who runs the horror book club I go to. The blurb compared it to Station Eleven, perilously high praise, but I'm weirdly enjoying it. Weirdly because I was afraid the structure would get annoying and weirdly because it's doing a bunch of things I usually find annoying but I'm not annoyed? I think it's because even though there's a lot of social justice themes, it never really feels like the characters are lecturing at the reader. Like there have been some scenes where characters are lecturing other characters - but so far they've all felt like they were more about revealing about the characters and their relationships rather than being like 'see, I know about solidarity, look how good a person I am!' I also really like that the exposition is being given through one of the POV characters (a high school student)'s essays, which have comments from her teacher and the comments are all PERFECT - and sure enough the author's day job is as a teacher. XD

(finished) Light of the Jedi - Charles Soule: still not my favorite, but it does pick up once you get past the first part. I think the narration of that action goes on for a bit too long and doesn't leave much space to take in the characters or setting because so much is happening, one thing after another. But, as I said last week, infinitely better than doomscrolling

(in-progress) Into the Dark - Claudia Gray: Ok the thing about Light is that I didn't really care about any of the deaths in it....until this book made me care. I think Gray is just a little bit more adept at character writing, I really started to fall in love with the High Republic and its characters in this book. I am sad though, given I'm probably going to have to skip Midnight Horizon to avoid getting derailed again, this might be where Reath and I part ways. I ended up loving Reath so much! But alas! Midnight Horizon was not my cup of tea, so I will have to say farewell.

(in-progress) Lord of the Rights chapter-a-day reread: Pelennor Fields today. DEAAAATTTHHH!!!!

watching (tv):

(finished) Silo (Apple TV): WHY am I still thinking about that finale?? why was that so good? WHEN is season 2 coming out?

(in-progress, rewatch) Altered Carbon (Netflix): to stop myself from just watching dumb commentary youtube videos while I'm cooking/eating dinner/etc I started rewatching Altered Carbon and damn it's just so good. I'm almost finished with the first season, I know the second is controversial/isn't quite as good but I still enjoyed it so will continue on

I'm in kind of a hangover post-Silo for the show I watch as part of my bedtime routine. I watched 2 episodes of Foundation and precisely 30 minutes of Severance before I fell asleep last night (I was just really tired because a certain Void Creature had me up at 5AM, not Severance's fault), so idk which I'm going to continue on with. Probably Severance, I'll get back to Foundation eventually.

watching (film):

The Strangers (2008): That scene where Liv Tyler is smoking in the kitchen and the intruder is standing unseen in the background is my LITERAL NIGHTMARE.

Hell House LLC II: The Abbadon Hotel (2018) and Hell House LLC III: Lake of Fire (2019): This is such a bizarre series because the first is slightly above-average found footage, the fourth is actually surprisingly scary, and the middle two are SUCH hot garbage, but. Completionist. I have seen them all now. The best scene in the third is with the cultists/demons scuttling around and I realized why it makes me laugh, they remind me of the wraiths in What We Do in the Shadows XD

Dune Part 2 (2024) - I SAW DUNE AGAIN IT WAS STILL GOOD. Aside, is Austin Butler in something the Youths (TM) like? Because I only know him from the awful Elvis movie I suffered through last year. The girl selling my ticket was like 'yeah I've seen it twice as an audience member and then I keep going up to the projection room to watch the duel because Austin Butler *heart eyes*' and I was like.....him? Really? Are the kids just horny for Harkonnens? I have questions.

video game update: I'm unstuck on cult of the lamb! I had the run of my life and got past the underwater level, it was great.

craft update: Skein still tangled, don't want to talk about it. But I've finished the short rows on the sweater vest and am onto the repetitive part! The next real milestone will be getting to where it joins the back under the arms, and I no longer have to purl. I can't wait.

weekend list -- just kidding it's a WEEK list because I'm on vacation! (technically I am dogsitting but I'm still taking a week off from work to go hang out with a dog, so that counts as vacation):

focus up to get through the workday. friends, it is 11AM and that is not going well, let me tell you

go for a run

pack / tidy up apartment so I don't come back to wreckage

non-writing things to do while at parents' house:

many walks! dog cuddles!

try out their fancy peloton thing, see what this cult thing is all about

knitting - planning to work on sweater vest, despite the fact that it is black and my parents' dog is so, so yellow... (she's a yellow lab)

laundry. so much laundry. everything that is in my apartment that can be put in a washing machine, is being brought. We've got sheets, we've got towels, bath mats, etc etc. My parents are paying me for dogsitting services in water usage.

read: I'm bringing 3 books I took out of the library yesterday which seems...ambitious...but maybe doable if I-

--don't scroll. seriously. I've blocked so many things, if I can just stick to occasionally checking my tumblr dash and maybe pinterest once in a while, I can get so much else done

writing to-do:

main project: longfic I am tentatively calling 'the station' (probably will change but this is at least better than my last working title which made no sense so I'm keeping it for now), I have 25k in a very rough draft, and am on chapter 2 of 12 in the rewrite (about 8k words). (It's probably going to be much longer than 25k, that was essentially just the self-indulgent scenes that came easily, now I'm doing the hard plot work, connecting scenes, etc, trying to go roughly in order so I don't have to do another full draft.)

start on the final part of 'omens and all kinds of signs': ideally finish a rough draft but we'll see, I have not started it at all, but I know it will feel good to finish it, if I can get some of the pieces together, that would be great

rough draft of the third variation on the tattoo theme (I have...900 words so far)

rough draft of an alternative POV to an already posted fic that's just an excuse to be shamelessly self-indulgent (I have ?? words scribbled in a notebook about it)

#lists lists lists #long post

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mvsicinthedvrk · 1 month ago

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Was that [BEN LEVIN]? Oh no no, that was just [ROBIN SWIFT], a [CANON CHARACTER] from [BABEL: AN ARCANE HISTORY]. They are [TWENTY TWO] years old, use [HE/HIM], and [ARE] aware that they are not actually from Washington DC. Too bad they can’t stray from this city for long.

read babel by r.f. kuang! minor spoilers for the book below but nothing major. this got far longer than necessary but i am very passionate about him so here we go--

how long has your character been here?

he thinks he showed up just after his second year or so at oxford, and he's been in d.c. for two years since then.

what is your character’s job?

he has two sort of part time jobs-- he's a graduate student at the university, because he knows if he ends up back at oxford and he's lapsed in his studies professor lovell would uhhhh not be happy. but he also has to make a living somehow so he's doing translation (english to mandarin, and vice versa) for various diplomats at and around the white house, embassies in d.c., etc. nothing too top secret or anything, but more for larger meetings and occasions. it's a good way to keep up with his speaking skills, though he's honestly not sure how to feel about it-- much like always.

where has your character been pulled from in their fandom?

he was well into studying to be a babbler with ramy & victoire & letty, and was just heading into his third year at the time, so it's before the whole "situation" out at sea.

has any magic affected your character?

not at all!

and any other information you might find useful for us and the other members to know!

robin's from an alternate version of the 1830s where silver bars endowed with translation essentially run the economy of england, because (when endowed with correct match-pairs in two different languages) they're used as technology to power and mechanize pretty much everything. but he's been in d.c. for two years so he's picked up on modern technology pretty well by now.

he was born in southern china, but raised primarily in england by a white british professor who refused to admit he was robin's father. robin is the 'english' name given to him by a nanny; his surname, swift, is after the author jonathan swift, and he chose that for himself when he was no longer allowed to use his birth name (a name that's never revealed in the book).

his native tongue is actually cantonese, but he's forgotten it because he wasn't allowed to speak it growing up (and had no one to speak it to), so he considers mandarin his native language instead as he did train in that and keep that up constantly, per professor lovell.

robin also studied latin and ancient greek as he's been raised to be a student at the university of oxford's royal institute of translation. when he graduates, he'll continue to work in either chinese grammar/translation studies to improve the chinese grammatica at babel, or he'll do metalwork if he has enough of an affinity for it.

however, he also has a newly-discovered half-brother-- griffin-- who got him caught up in a secret society that's pilfering silver bars and redistributing them, and other resources, illegally. robin agrees with the ideals of the hermes society (that the crown shouldn't own and direct the majority of the world's silver), but he doesn't always agree with the society's methods. nevertheless while at babel he would often help them with their heists, while terrified of being caught.

at this point in his life robin always has to toe the line of-- wanting to do what he thinks is right, but knowing that his future lies with babel and that all of his advantages in life come from his associations there, and so betraying that institute is necessary but difficult, or difficult but necessary, and he's never entirely sure which wins out.

those contradictions are what draws me to him as a character. and other contradictions are evident in the rest of his personality as well-- for example, he wants to believe the best in people, but he's also been mistreated so many times that it's tough for him to trust what appears to be a good thing. he'll always suspect that there'll be a catch somewhere down the line.

if i pulled him from the end of the book it would be an entirely different story, but-- at this point, he's definitely conflict-averse, and if he can solve a problem by either a) avoiding it mentally or b) avoiding it physically, he will. he's not at all proud of that fact, but keeping his head down is definitely how he's survived for so long, so that's his first inclination.

he's tired of being walked over, but knows that sometimes you just have to shut up and take it. however, his being in d.c. has been a welcome reprieve from a lot of his poor treatment at oxford outside the translators' institute, so i think he has probably had a nice year or two of recovery. good for him. until he remembers what happened later in the book but i won't burden him with that just yet

robin's demeanor is generally gentle, but he's also straightforward, and when comfortable enough he'll tell someone the honest truth without pulling any punches.

potential connections could include:

other assistants at diplomatic/white house events who he could have met while there translating

study groups of other grad students studying literature or languages

someone who could have pulled robin into a group of friends or more social hangouts that he would either a) probably get far too emotionally attached to or b) find nothing in common with that group of people and only show up regularly out of obligation sldkjfsldkj

someone who was also in d.c. two years ago and could have helped him adjust initially to the major shift in time and society

some friends more reckless than he is, who he may have to be the responsible one and take care of corralling home

characters who are activists or activism-inclined who can help encourage him to foster his internal beliefs & step out of his comfort zone

dates? of some kind? he's not someone who would necessarily put romance first but he would be interested in seeing where a relationship might go (he's bisexual).

or anything else that you could think of.

#;; rs ;;#hw: intro #;; robin swift: intro ;;#abuse tw #guilt mention tw #long post tw

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televinita · 2 months ago

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Update: it's been 9 days but there's enough change for this (mostly because I'm losing track of how damn many books I've started) so BOOM.

CURRENTLY READING / LISTENING

1. A Study in Drowning - Ava Reid: 40% in; there are aspects that annoy me and it's longer than my usual quick reads so I'm taking breaks in between bits, but overall enjoying myself.

2. A Wizard’s Guide to Defensive Baking - T. Kingfisher: 40% in on ebook and I just got the audiobook, so woohoo!! Having a good time. I freaking love the sentient gingerbread man, he reminds me of the one in Shrek (the only good thing about Shrek) but silent

3. Graveyard Shift - M.L. Rio: 54% in via ebook -- I forgot I had a backdoor "cheat" and was able to get on the shorter Overdrive list in the county next door -- and god this is weird, why is it sci-fi horror, but there are some interesting turns of phrase and I am STUBBORN so I will finish. Not least because I only have 75 pages left.

4. Scrappy Little Nobody - Anna Kendrick: a random audiobook pick from my back-burner TBR, because I was DESPERATE last night (literally about 16 hours before Kingfisher's title popped up). 30% in; I'll progress further when my other audio(s) run(s) out.

AVAILABLE NOW

5. Legends & Lattes - Travis Baldree: still a possibility

6. Passenger Princess - Morgan Elizabeth: still a possibility

7. In The Shadow of Lakecrest - Elizabeth Blackwell: still a possibility

8. Final Girls and/or The Last Time I Lied - Riley Sager: now at the bottom of my interest list but keeping just in case

9. The Book of Cold Cases and/or Murder Road - Simone St. James: same, though the odds of reading one of these are a bit better

10. What Does It Feel Like? - Sophie Kinsella: well look what got here surprisingly fast! Picked up today; I will be starting and maybe finishing it in the next 2 days; guys, even calling this a "novella" is a stretch; this is closer to a long short story. Exactly 120 pages + author note, visibly at least 1.25 line spacing, and a smaller-than-average-sized book.

11. The Woman in Black - Susan Hill: I completely forgot to mention that after rewatching the movie, I wanted to try reading this, and the weather now is frankly perfect. Picked this up today. It's 2nd highest priority in this category, though will be kicked down when books from the next one start showing up.

COMING SOON

12. Before We Were Us - Denise Hunter: in cataloging!

13. Beyond Ivy Walls - Rachel Fordham: estimated wait for audio (only option because it's far too long to tolerate an ebook) now ~4 weeks hmmm

14. Games Untold - Jennifer Lynn Barnes: releasing on November 12th! It's long too so I'm kind of nervous about whether I should freeze my hold and wait for 2nd round of checkouts (pushes me out 3-4 weeks), so I can get through all the new releases above first, or if I can realistically get to it in the next 4 weeks -- max. wait time before I pick it up + 3 weeks + if I need to be a dick and keep it a couple days late I will, since I'm sick of being well behaved about that while everyone else takes advatage.

COMING EVENTUALLY!

15. The Wren in the Holly Library - K.A. Linde*: the sprayed-edge version is beautiful and I have not learned any hesitancy yet about trying fantasy (romantasy?) if the cover is pretty and bookish enough. Although one glance at the reviews has me lowering my expectations to "3-star time with a 40% chance of DNF."

[*edit: I looked at it in the library and was immediately turned off by how long it is (this is a book for fantasy readers who like Bricks; it's 400 pages of small print, or a 15 hour audiobook). I skimmed the first chapter and was further turned off. I skimmed ahead and saw explicit content. This is why we investigate books before buying them no matter how pretty they are.]

16. 26 Ways To Come Home For the Holidays - Jennifer Joy: I refuse to pick this up for at least another week but I still can't wait!

Reading Triage

I'm in a bit of a reading slump at the moment (a word which here means: I have only finished 4 books in 2 weeks), so what better way to fix it than by chucking back all my library books, picking out a brand-new set and/or placing holds, and then talking out the options!

CURRENTLY READING / LISTENING

1. A Study in Drowning - Ava Reid: this was all the rage last fall and I shrugged it off as "fantasy, not my thing," but fantasy IS kind of turning out to be my thing this year. So when I saw the new special edition w/ stenciled edges (featuring shelves of old books) in a Goodreads giveaway, I immediately investigated it further and oh, we're starting in dark academia, in an architectural college?? There's a house design contest?? Well that sounds great! So I'm giving it a go; got about 40 pages in last night.

2. The Spellshop - Sarah Beth Durst: this is my 2nd time around with it, because I wanted to hear the audiobook version. About 90 minutes left, and I better hop-to because it's due in 2 days.

3. One Of Our Own - Lucinda Berry: this is a just-under-4-hours audio exclusive thriller (is thriller the right word, it seems like a pretty domestic mystery), and I am literally only here because it's dual narration and the main narrator is A.J. Cook. The plot looks bland and unpleasant and after only 8% in I can all but guarantee it would be a 2-star in print, but I might give it 3 because listening to her voice is a treat.

AVAILABLE NOW

4. Legends & Lattes - Travis Baldree: attempt #2 to salvage the cozy coffee shop vibes out of an otherwise uninteresting story, now that the temps are finally about to drop down into at least the 50s, and if it doesn't work this time I quit forever because I have better fantasy places to be (but I really do wanna savor the romanticizing of coffee + baked goods).

5. Strongheart, Wonder Dog of the Silver Screen - Candace Fleming: I didn't buy it, but I am now more motivated than ever to read this. It's actually much shorter than I thought, being about 50% illustration, and I want to dive right in. Might even do so as soon as I post this, tbh.

6. Passenger Princess - Morgan Elizabeth: I feel honor-bound by winning it to read enough to offer a review. Honestly, the first chapter was quite fun, so if I just go in with determination to skip straight over the porn and judge the rest of the story on its own merit, I might enjoy it. (I will of course be judging more harshly for its Goodreads rating)

7. In The Shadow of Lakecrest - Elizabeth Blackwell: a 1920s Rebecca-esque novel that I own and have been meaning to read for 2 years now. I got so close to cracking it open this time...and I still might, but more likely the other books on this list will take priority.

8. Final Girls and/or The Last Time I Lied - Riley Sager: the references in Middle of the Night finally got me interested in these 2 I skipped the first time around, but it's still just...so hard to convince myself to try them, even when I crave a guaranteed good thriller. There's a reason I skipped over them the first time around, and that reason is they just look and sound generic as hell.

9. The Book of Cold Cases and/or Murder Road - Simone St. James: I spent literally the entire month of October a) not reading any ghost stories for lack of good options and being sad about it, and b) forgetting about this author literally every time I went to the library until the 28th. But now they're here! So...maybe! (more than likely pushed off til next year though. I don't feel particularly excited when I look at them, even though the first book at least has been on my TBR since its release)

10. The Widow of Rose House - Diana Biller: almost forgot one of the few remaining from my last round! A random checkout because it looks like an unusual sort of historical romance with like seven different appealing elements; lemme just copy the summary:

It's 1875, and Alva Webster has perfected her stiff upper lip after three years of being pilloried in the presses of two continents over fleeing her abusive husband. Now his sudden death allows her to return to New York to make a fresh start, restoring Liefdehuis, a dilapidated Hyde Park mansion, and hopefully her reputation at the same time. However, fresh starts aren't as easy as they seem, as Alva discovers when stories of a haunting at Liefdehuis begin to reach her. But Alva doesn't believe in ghosts. So when the eccentric and brilliant professor Samuel Moore appears and informs her that he can get to the bottom of the mystery that surrounds Liefdehuis, she turns him down flat. She doesn't need any more complications in her life--especially not a handsome, convention-flouting, scandal-raising one like Sam. Unfortunately, though Alva is loath to admit it, Sam, a pioneer in electric lighting and a member of the nationally-adored Moore family of scientists, is the only one who can help. Together, the two delve into the tragic secrets wreathing Alva's new home while Sam attempts to unlock Alva's history--and her heart

COMING SOON

11. Tracker's Canyon - Pam Withers: a YA novel about a teen using his outdoor/trailing skills to find his dad and evade people who may want to harm his dad (or him). It's been on my Goodreads TBR for 5+ years, picked when I was scrolling through looking for I.L.L. options. Looks fun and also relatively short, under 200 pages. Should be here in a week or two at the most.

12. A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking - T. Kingfisher: library doesn't have a physical copy so waiting on the e-book, estimated 3 weeks. I haven't read her before but I kept seeing this on BookTube and its title and cover looked so fun and cute. Probably a 3-star time but I still want in.

13. Piranesi - Susanna Clarke: this was on my original fall TBR at the beginning of September, and I've been slowly making my way towards it. No promises I'll read it this year, but if I don't get too distracted by the new shinies, the fact that this is much shorter than I thought has made me more willing to listen to its many rave reviews. Currently on a waitlist; "my" copy is due back on Halloween but I of course have zero faith in the people of this county at this point, so I'm going to bet more realistically on the second week of November (next copy is due back 11/9).

14. Before We Were Us - Denise Hunter: romance about an engaged woman who develops amnesia, not only forgetting her (relatively new) relationship but still viewing her middle-of-nowhere job at his family resort as a pit stop and ready to get the hell outta dodge; he must convince her to fall in love with him again. I WILL be going full Chuck/Sarah with this. Currently on-order at the library and I am first in line.

15. Beyond Ivy Walls - Rachel Fordham: This whole summary just sounds Immediately Great and like the kind of historical (1903) romance I love; wish I had access to a physical copy but waiting on the audiobook instead, estimated time 3 weeks. Love 2 have everything come crashing in at once!

All of Monticello believes Otis Taylor has been away fostering his musical genius. But the truth is that his father exiled him long ago, rejecting Otis's appearance and the scars that came with it. . . . At twenty-three years old, Sadie West left her family farm and found employment at the Hoag feather duster factory. Desperate to save money and help her family make ends meet, she trespasses and finds shelter in an abandoned building--and is thrown in the path of the town's mysterious bachelor. Otis's wounds are deep, but as Sadie's friendship with him grows, she begins to fall for the man beneath the mask

COMING EVENTUALLY!

16. Graveyard Shift - M.L. Rio: the reviews are so middling and I am also sure it will be a 3-star at best, but damn it, I got excited about this one months ago and now I HAVE TO KNOW (this is why knowing about new releases sucks! don't do it!). Waiting on an ebook copy because the library doesn't have a physical one. It is an absurdly long wait for such a short book (14 weeks?! i am PRAYING for a physical copy to be ordered soon).

17. Games Untold - Jennifer Lynn Barnes: on the other hand I am first in line when this releases in a couple weeks. Beyond excited for a collection of short stories and novellas aka BONUS SCENES for The Inheritance Games. (sometimes knowing about new releases doesn't suck)

18. 26 Ways To Come Home For the Holidays - Jennifer Joy: a "Thanksgiving to Christmas" novella romance about a department store in the 1940s. I have been excitedly waiting for it to be seasonally appropriate (for maximal impact) since spring. I still gotta give it 3 or 4 weeks though.

19. What Does It Feel Like? - Sophie Kinsella: 12th in line for 8 copies, at the library that doesn't show due dates so I'm guessing this may not arrive until December, at which point I might roll it over to the new year. Still, if it comes sooner, interested in this novella mirroring her real-life health crisis.

#progress! the tally has dropped from 19 to 16 #also hi i am only here for my own blog this evening and not even going to the dash except to post this #reading triage

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bucky-barnes-diaries · 4 years ago

Text

The Office

Pairing; CEO+Dad’s Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary; You and Bucky fuck for the very first time in his office at the company’s building.

Word Count; 4574

Warnings; NSFW, 18+, Minors DNI, undefined age-gap, “cheating”, language, cursing, Sir!kink, dirty talk, pet names, slight degradation, hair pulling, oral (male receiving), face-fucking, spitting, fingering, teasing, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids.

Authors Note; I can’t get enough of CEO+DBF!Bucky so this will be the first of many fics like this! I hope people will like it and be interested in more! Jesus I need to bathe in holy water now. Hope you all enjoy <3

Main Masterlist || CEO+DBF Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky had begun texting you while sitting in a meeting with your dad and some of the company's other employees. You weren't doing anything important, just at home reading a book, so you were more than happy to text back and forth with him. The meeting was relatively standard and straightforward, it wasn't too much of an importance, so it allowed Bucky to talk with you without feeling guilty while the rest of them sorted out the details. Once in a while, he would chime in with his views and opinions. The text messages were pretty innocent, to begin with. The standard “hello” and “what you are up to” was exchanged between the two of you before more of the dirtier stuff ensued.

You thought about it for a second before you sent him an answer. You and Bucky had started fucking around a few weeks ago. You had met him when your parents had friends and colleagues over for a grand party like they had most of the time. You had just moved back home after living on your own in another city for three years, so this was your first time seeing Bucky in person. You had heard a lot about him and seen pictures when he started working with your dad, and they had formed a tight friendship, but you had never met him in person. He was even more handsome than what the pictures could show when you got introduced to him, and you had started to take a liking to him instantly. He had done as well because not even a week after you met, you and he had started a relationship. To begin with, it was only fucking around, but as the weeks went by, you felt like there may be more to it; sparks were felt between the two of you. None of you had done anything about it yet, mainly because it wouldn’t be received well by the public, your family most likely would disapprove and because of his wife Natalie and her whole family.

Which you didn’t find wrong at all that he was “cheating” on her with you. They both hated each other’s guts and would more than anything like getting a divorce. Bucky had told you that she had cheated on him multiple times, and he had done as well with her, but they played the happy couple when they were out in public because of their families. They got married at a very young age because their families are rich and powerful and wanted their kids to get together, so they are now stuck in this toxic relationship together. But soon, you and Bucky would have to decide where the next step of the relationship would go. Would you continue to sneak around, or would you form a proper relationship and come out for the whole wide world? It was only a matter of time before you needed to decide.

You and he would primarily meet up on neutral grounds. In his car or a hotel but on a few occasions, you had fucked in his or your parent's house in your room. This would be the first time you had done it where he worked; you assumed it would be in his office. It would be risky, but the thought about him taking you hard against every surface had your thighs clenching in need of him.

A soft whimper escaped your parted lips at his promise to fuck your brains out. He was never afraid to be direct with you about his needs and feelings. He always meant what he said, and that was one of your favorite things about him. You could always trust that he would be true to his words.

It would take you about 30 minutes to get over there, so you needed to leave right now. You did a quick freshen up before you called a taxi to get you over to the company’s building. Being in the car gave you time to think this through. You weren't sure how you and he would pull this off. Everyone would see if you entered his office and then wonder what was taking so long and what in the hell you guys were doing in there. In their eyes, you and Bucky weren't even friends. You barely spoke with one another when other people were around, as not to raise any suspicion. For them, you were the boss's daughter while Bucky was his partner, and nothing was going on between you two; besides, Bucky had his “loving” wife, Natalie.

The building stood tall as you arrived. Clouds were teasing rain, and it was a bit cold. The skirt you were wearing made your body chilly, but you kept it on for Bucky's sake. You looked up at the structure before you went through the main entrance. The security guards and the workers at the reception greeted you as everyone was well aware of who you were. You all greeted them with a smile as you walked towards the elevators. Entering the elevator, you became impatient as it took its time to travel up the floors to the main offices in the building. Your legs were uneasy as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. A thin layer of sweat formed on your hairline as you came up with scenarios with how you and Bucky could get caught. You shook your head, trying to get those thoughts down. You trusted Bucky, and besides, this was something you wanted to try out.

When you arrived at the floor, and the door slid open, you saw your dad, Bucky, and some of the employees coming out of one of the conference rooms. The meeting must have just finished. As you walked over, you tried to put on a smile to mask your nervousness. None of them had seen you yet, except for Bucky. He had you in his sight out of the corner of his eye, a slight smirk on his face as he saw you strutting over. You came to stand between him and your dad.

Bucky couldn’t have been more subtle with staring you up and down; your dad was standing right there after all. His tongue darting out between his lips to wet them, clearly having an image on his head about you bent over at his mercy.

“Hi, dad! Mr. Barnes, it's nice to see you again.”

Bucky gave you a simple nod of his head, acting like he isn't just about to have his way with you in his office with your dad not having a clue about what a whore his sweet and innocent daughter is, “pleasure seeing you again.”

“Sweetheart,” your dad gave you a one-arm hug as he had a smile on his face at his daughter visiting him at work, “what are you doing here?”

“I was in the area and thought I could drop by before moving on with my day.”

“Aw, honey. I wish I could spend some time with you, but we have a meeting again in 30 minutes.”

“It's alright, dad. I'm on my way out again anyways. Have some errands to run,” you lied.

“Excuse me, sweetheart.” He turned to say something to the others. While everyone had their attention on your dad, you turned slightly towards Bucky to give him a “chill out” look. The outfit you were wearing had him on edge and excited to have you in his office as soon as possible. Since the crowd was paying attention to your dad, it allowed Bucky to give you some instructions. He leaned in a little closer to you, but not too close in case someone saw.

“Here,” he slipped you his card, the card for the private elevator he had that went from the parking lot and up to his office, “take the elevator. No one is going to see you. Also, I want you to have your panties off before you come upstairs. You got it?”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat. Your body felt hot and warm. The palms of your hands had a thin layer of sweat on them as you took the card from him. Your heart was hammering against your chest. This was really about to happen.

“Y-yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

Like clockwork, your dad turned around towards you again just as Bucky leaned away from your body. “Well, I'll see you when I get home later, sweetheart.” He went to hug you again, and you returned the action.

“Bye, dad. Bye, Mr. Barnes, I'll see you around.”

Everyone said their goodbyes to you before you left. You went out of the building and around it to where the cars went down into the parking lot. Once down there, you made sure that no one was around to see you before you scanned the card for the elevator. The journey up to his office gave you the opportunity to take your panties off. You held them in your hand as you almost bounced up and down in fear and excitement for what was in store for you when you reached his floor.

When the elevator reached the office, and the doors opened, you saw that Bucky was waiting for you, his back facing you. He was staring out the big windows that decorated almost his entire office room.

“Did you take your panties off as I told you to do?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He turned around so he could be met with you. His tongue wetting his lips as he beckoned with his finger for you to come over to him, “get over here now.” Not even thinking for another second, you were quick to stand by his side by the window, waiting for further instructions he had to give you.

“Give them to me,” the palm of his hand was held out for you to hand them over to him. With shaking hands, you handed them over, and he opened his suit jacket to put them in the inside pocket so he could keep a hold of them.

“Is someone going to come in?”

“Shh,” his hand came to caress the side of your face—his thumb stroking your cheek. The simple action had you relax a tiny bit. “Don't worry. I locked the door, and besides, I told them not to disturb me. Do you trust me?”

“I do, Bucky. With my life.”

“Well then,” his finger pointed down to the floor, and you knew immediately what he was getting at, “get down on your knees for me.”

In front of the window of all things?! For everyone to see? But frankly, you didn't care. Let them see it all. You would give them all a good show. Besides, they wouldn't be able to know that it's you because the next building over was some distance away. All you cared about was to have his dick in your mouth right now and nothing else.

Like second nature, you quickly sank on your knees where you had spent more than once worshiping his cock, and this wouldn't be the last one either. He looked down at you, his eyes dark with desire at you being so easily submissive to him. His tongue peeked out from his mouth at you on your knees for him.

His thumb traced your lips as his other hand was palming the bulge in his pants. You granted him access into your mouth as you sucked and swirled your tongue on his digit.

“I can't wait to have your lips wrapped around me, kitten. Do you want me to fuck your mouth?”

You nodded your head and released his thumb from your mouth, “please, Bucky, I want it so bad.”

Your eyes followed his hands, your lips parted, as he undid his belt and pulled down his suit pants along with his underwear. Coming face to face with his dick, ready to be sucked by you. You wrapped your hand around his shaft and looked up at him through your lashes, waiting so that he could give your permission at proceeding, knowing how much he loved it when you waited for him to provide you with a green light.

“Suck it, baby girl.”

You opened your mouth to swirl your tongue around his head before you wrapped your lips around him so you could suck on his mushroom tip, your tongue teasing him. You could see that he was becoming impatient, so you engulfed him halfway through while massaging his balls in your hand. The action had his hand fist in your hair, making a gasp being sounded against him by you, as an exhale of satisfaction escaped him.

He needed more, so with the help of his hand in your hair, he pushed his dick further into your mouth till the tip of him reached the back of your throat, making you gag around him. The vibrations from your mouth had him shiver all over. Your eyes were watering as saliva started coming out the side of your mouth. Looking directly up into his eyes as you took whatever was left of him the best you could and bobbed your head on him, watching as his eyes struggled to stay open to watch how good you were taking him down your throat.

“F-fuck. That's so good, baby. You love sucking my cock don't you, pretty girl, hm? Such a good girl for me, aren't you?”

His dirty talk turned you on, and all you wanted to do was touch yourself at his words. You released him from your hold. Saliva was hanging from your mouth, and his dick was glistening all in it. Your hand jerked him off so you could answer his question, your voice almost like honey as you spoke. The wetness from you made it easy to glide your hand effortlessly on him.

“Yes, Sir.”

A deep groan was sounded from within his chest at the nickname he loved to be called by you. You on your knees so pretty and messy for him had his dick twitch in your grasp.

“Good, baby. Look at you. Such a beautiful mess for me, kitten.”

“Only for you, Sir.”

His head leaned back some as you took him in your mouth again. Your mouth is an expert at taking the whole of him. “Fuck, I'm gonna cum. Do you want me to cum in your mouth, baby girl?” He asked while slowly thrusting his length in and out of it. All you could do was moan, letting him know that you wanted to taste him.

He picked up his speed and fucked your mouth, making you gag around him each time his tip tickled the back of your throat, and you loved every second of it. His hands came at the side of your face so he could hold you steady as he used your warm and wet hole as he pleased. The sloppy sounds of your mouth, your gags, and moans around him only enticed him even more to reach his end.

His thrusts became uneven, and not a second later, he came deep in your throat. Sounds of pleasure dissolved in the office space as your mouth took all that he had to offer. You swallowed around him, milking him for all that he was worth, as you moaned at his delicious taste. You didn't pull away from him until he had spilled every drop in you.

“Show me your mouth.”

Pulling away from him, you opened it to show him all of the cum. He learned down till his face was inches from you and proceeded to spit in your opening. The action had your desperate clit pulsating.

“Can you swallow all of that for me?”

Closing your mouth, you swallowed all of him, his cum and spit, and opened up once more to show him what a good girl you had been at drinking all that he gave you. His hand was petting your hair as a sign of appreciation for you being so amazing for him.

“Such a dirty girl. Was that good? You love the taste of me, don't you, doll?”

“Mhm, yes,” you responded while licking your lips. Your hand was jerking him off again as you couldn't get enough of the feel of him. Your words and actions had him lean back some.

“You've been such a good girl, and I want to give you a treat. Do you want it?”

His words went directly to your tingling clit, and you needed to push your thighs together to get some form of friction down there.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Get on all fours on the couch, with your ass facing the desk.”

You got up and walked over the few meters to the couch, taking off your skirt and sweater until you were only in your bra, and then got in the position as he had wanted from you. He went over to his desk to have a better view of you—leaning on it as his hands held the edge of it. You supported yourself on your elbows as you pushed your ass up and out, earning a groan from Bucky.

“Like this?”

“Just like that. Now touch yourself for me.”

Pushing two of your fingers inside your mouth to get them wet before your hand went underneath you to circle your aching and needy clit, letting out a sigh of relief at being able to feel something finally. You pushed the two fingers inside of you, letting out a low moan and they stretched and penetrated your tightness, closing your legs some at the feeling. It was nothing like Bucky's fingers or dick, but it would have to do for now. You started to move them in and out of your tight pussy, going at a slow pace, to begin with.

Bucky hadn't said anything yet, so he must be enjoying the show you were putting on for him. He let out a moan just as you turned your head to find him pumping his shaft while watching you intensely as you pleasured yourself. Your teeth captured your bottom lip at the sight of him.

“Fuck, kitten.”

You pulled your fingers out and started circling your clit again, whimpering as you were close to your orgasm. The two of you held eye contact as you watched each other.

“So good, Bucky.”

“You're such a good girl, baby. Showing me how you touch yourself. Is this how you look when you're in your room late at night? Touching yourself like this while thinking of me?”

“Mhm, yes.” His words made your fingers move rapidly into your tightness again, wanting to get to that sweet release you were craving desperately.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum; please can I cum, Sir?” You pleaded, needing to get some form of relief. Tears were teasing to spill out of your eyes if you didn't get your way soon.

“No! Stop!” He didn't want you to cum just yet. Whining at his words but complying anyway, you knew you needed to listen to him, so you brought your fingers out of your hole and into your mouth to suck your juices off. You tried as best as possible to hold eye contact with him as you sucked and swirled your tongue around your digits, moaning at your own taste, as you swayed your ass from side to side for him.

“Fuck me, Sir, please.” He didn't hesitate for one second in getting behind your bent-down form at the speed of lightning. One of his hands caressed and grabbed one of your ass cheeks before it landed on your hip to hold a tight grip on it while the other held his shaft as he teased your fold with the tip of him.

“Please, Bucky, don't tease.”

“I'll give you what you want, doll.”

He slowly pushed himself in your warmth, wanting you to feel all of him. The feeling of fullness almost had you cumming right then and there. He filled you up to the brim, wanting you to feel all that he had to give, and you weren't one bit disappointed. He pulled out till only his tip was inside you before he slowly pushed himself into you again, doing this a few times to get you familiar with the feeling. He just wanted to cum right then and there at the tightness of your walls clenching around his throbbing dick.

“Bucky, please go faster. Fuck me, please,” you whimpered out, wanting him to fuck you completely senseless.

His thrusts were hard and fast as he fucked you into the couch, hips slapping against your backside, making you jolt forwards with each move of him. Your mouth hung open as silent screams came out of it.

“This pussy feels so incredible. Fuck, so tight.”

His hands held your sides while his fingernails dug in your skin, creating dents. He moaned out as he watched his dick disappear into your hole with every move of his hips. Your head was buzzing, and your face was buried deep in the cushions at the intense pleasure Bucky was giving you. “Oh god, please don't stop, babe,” you pleaded of him.

Bucky took a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back, making your back arch. You bit your lip at his rough and dominants actions. The hand in your hair and his abusive thrusts was too much and so intense, but you loved it to the fullest. Tears came out of your eyes as he was taking you so good from behind.

“You like this? Don't you, baby? You like when I fuck your tight and pretty pussy?” Take what belongs to me? Hm? Letting me fuck you like a whore while your dad is just down the hall?”

Your head was foggy from the incredible fucking he was giving you. The lack of answer from you had him unsatisfied, so he smacked your ass cheek hard, making you squeal out at the pain.

“Answer me!”

“Y-yes… I love your cock fucking my tight little pussy. Please don't stop, baby.”

“Such a good whore for me. I'm not gonna stop, kitten, I promise.”

The thought that your dad and everyone else that worked in the building was just out the door, not having a clue as to what was going on in Buckys office, was so intoxicating—not knowing that Bucky was having at it with the boss's daughter.

You turned your head, at the best of your abilities, to look at him. His eyes were shut tight, and his face in pure concentration as he moved his body against yours. He met your gaze, both of you looking at each other as you neared your orgasm. One of your hands grabbed onto his forearm that had a tight grip on your hip. His other went underneath you to play and tease your clit.

“Please, Bucky, I need to cum. I need you to fill me up, please.” The pathetic pleas for him to fill up your pussy was what brought forward his release and made him finish deep inside of you.

His seed filling you up was what brought forth your own release. The way your walls became tighter around him had his hips snap rapidly against you as he gave you all of his cum. Moans and soft whimpers on a loop by the both of you as the pleasure overtook all your senses. Bucky thrust through both of your orgasms, not stopping until you were both satisfied.

Your face was in the cushions as you tried to slow down your breathing. Bucky caressed your sides and peppered kisses all over your lower back. Praises being given to you for being such a good girl to him.

“You're so good to me, beautiful.”

He pulled out of your hole. The two of you hissing out as you both felt overly sensitive. Bucky helped to clean both of you up with a few wipes he kept on his desk. He made sure you were ok before he went over to the windows to grab his underwear and pants, pulling them on where he stood.

You put your skirt and sweater on and fixed yourself up as you sat and watched him get ready. God, he looked so handsome that it had your stomach burst out in butterflies. Now all you wanted was for him to hoist you up on his desk and take you hard against it. But you saw him have a look at his watch, his eyebrows furrowed together.

“The meetings in five.”

He came over to you just as you were getting up. You hissed out as your body felt sore and spent up, but good regardless.

“Are you ok? Did I do too much?”

That was Bucky for you. Always worried that he had gone overboard, but you always reassured him that you had enjoyed yourself.

His hands came to rest at the side of your face, looking you up and down to make sure you were all good. Your own hands went over his ones.

“Hey, I'm alright. Just a little sore, but you know I loved it, and I can handle it, Bucky.”

“I just don't want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I'm all good, babe, I swear.”

You took his face in your hands now as his ones traveled down to the small of your back so he could pull you flush against his body. His face leaned down some so he could capture your lips with his, giving you one of his sweetest kisses. His face moved down to suck and lick at the side of your neck in the most loving way.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he reached into the pocket of his jacket to retrieve your panties, ”I believe these belong to you.” That cocky smile of his decorated his face as the panties dangled from his finger. Right. You had almost forgotten about those. “Thanks.” You took them and slid them up your legs.

“I wish you could stay longer. There are more surfaces in this office I would love to take you against.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he held you close. You would love nothing more than to stay here and let him have his way with you, but you knew that he needed to attend the meeting because if not, people would come knocking on his door, wondering where he is.

“I know, me too, but you know my dad is going to come knocking on the door and wonder where you are if you don't show up.”

“Yeah, I know. C'mon, I'll walk you out,”

He followed you to the elevator so he could say goodbye to you. A kiss and a hug were shared amongst you before the elevator dinged that it had arrived.

“We can meet later tonight if you want? Natalie is going out; God knows where, so we can stay at my place this time.” He asked you. “Whatever you want, just let me know, ok?” “I would like that, Bucky. I’ll let you know when.”

You stepped inside of it and pressed the button to go down. A smile on both of your faces as you gazed at each other the few seconds you had before the doors slid shut.

“I’ll miss you, doll.”

“I'll miss you more, Sir.”

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buckybarnesdiaries · 4 years ago

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the knife

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Once a week, Bucky cleans and sharpens his knives, but this time, the easy task takes another path.

word count: 1.936 words. (i know, it's long, but it worth it).

warnings/tags: nsfw, +18!!! knife!kink, sir!kink, praising!kink, foreplay (female receiving, use of a knife), language, mention of bodily fluid.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

Who in their right mind wouldn’t feel hypnotized by the way Bucky has to dance a knife between his fingers?

Once a week it’s all he does during the day. Clean and sharpen his knives, after spending the whole morning training with them, while you can’t stop looking at him amazed. And horny. You feel like a slut, let’s be clear. You can’t help but imagine how good his hands make you feel whenever he touches you, whenever he grips your throat, whenever he pulls your hair. But, mostly, he’s too stupid to notice it. Even innocent you could say.

So, there you are, sitting on the sofa in front of him pretending to be reading a book, while his fingers grab a cloth with too much care to clean the blade of his favorite one. The one you got him for your first anniversary. A mini-machete with a black leather handle and golden ornaments all around it. When Bucky saw it for the first time, he fell in love.

As soon as he raises his oceanic eyes towards you, yours fall to the pages trying to hide the bunch of emotions within your chest and your lower belly. You can’t help but lick your lips clearing your throat, a gesture that makes him giggle putting down the machete over the table. In complete silence, Bucky stands up to stretch his arms to the ceiling, before leading his steps dangerously closer to you. Pressing your lips to contain a guilty laugh for being caught in action, you look at him through your eyelashes.

“You have something to tell me, doll?”

You shake your head swallowing greedily, about to choke on your own saliva.

“You sure?” He inquires then, keeping his hands inside the pockets of his grey sweatpants.

Fucking grey sweatpants. This time, you nod with your head, whilst he is sitting by your side. Bucky grabs the book between your hands, tossing it above his shoulder to somewhere on the floor, without putting his eyes away from yours. You gulp again, starting to feel some difficulties to breathe staring at him placing his arm made of vibranium over your shoulders. There’s no gesture on his face when he raises his left hand to your jaw, forcing you to keep looking at him.

“C'mon... Tell me what you want”.

His lips brush yours, driving you insane and racing your heart, as his firm tone of voice slides itself between them. A shiver runs down your backbone, drying your throat as the heat floods your guts. But you can’t think of a single word to say. Bucky waits patiently a couple of seconds, nodding at the end as —for him— the game has started. He puckers his lips, about to get up from the sofa pulling his hands away from you. And you stop him. Of course you do. As soon as you can react. You grab his cold wrist to push him back, almost falling on top of you.

Bucky’s laugh fills the whole room, getting comfier between your legs while your fingers get tangled in his long brown hair. Using the tip of his tongue, he licks your lips at the same time he crashes his pelvis against your needed core. You can’t hold a loud and pleased moan, closing your eyes and hearing another laugh coming from his mouth.

“Last chance, doll. Do you have something to tell me?” The soldier grunts onto your lips.

“Just… touch me, please”. You’re almost sobbing so anxiously, when Bucky starts to rock his hips between your legs, creating a very satisfying friction.

“No, doll... We’re gonna try something new”.

Your eyes widen in surprise, curiosity, and confusion, touring the length of his metallic arm until reaching the long fingers grabbing the mini-machete you gave him. You gasp uncontrollably, while his other hand snakes up your thigh to find your panties under the baggy shirt you’re wearing. One of the shirts you usually steal from his wardrobe. Bucky brings the blade to his teeth, holding it there to sit up and help you to strip. In less than a blink, you are completely exposed to his attentive and lustful blue eyes.

You spread your legs for him without the needing of being asked for, showing him in all its glory your warm cunt shining in your arousal. Bucky would give his life for digging his hard and twitching dick in your pussy right now, but he has another plan. One that you are going to enjoy anyway. Leaning over you with the machete now back to his hand, his left forefinger goes straight to your folds; wetting it with your sweet juices in a soft stroke.

“Open your mouth”. He demands with such a raspy tone of voice, bringing the handle of his knife to your lips.

You welcome it in silence, delighted, hornier than ever. Twelve inches of leather that you suck and lick pleasantly for him. You cover it with your saliva, swirling your tongue around it as he marks the rhythm inside your mouth. Meanwhile, his index finger helps you to calm your anxiety, giving enough attention to your swollen clit. You can’t think, you can’t moan, you can’t breathe. You two haven’t started and you feel already that you could cum in less than a sigh. Bucky sees it in your eyes, and he can’t hide a petty smile growing on his face. He loves to tease you.

“Have you been feeling like this all day, uh?”

Pulling away the handle from your mouth, he drags it over your skin, down by your collarbone and the small space between your breasts. Slowly, too damn slowly. You don’t know how he can control himself this good when you’re about to cry. You need him so much. All the time. But days like these… You need him twice as much.

“Yes…” You just mumble weakly as the wet handle reaches your abdomen continuing his path down.

“Tell me what you want”.

“Put it inside me, please…”

“Please, what, uh?”

“Please, sir”.

You can see your boyfriend breathing through his parted lips, catching his air at the moment he watches you whimper when the leather slightly touches your clit. You are so beautiful for him —legs opened, hard nipples and begging.

Placing his flesh arm under your waist to raise a little your ass, Bucky plays with the handle up and down your slit, making a pressure that causes you to grunt annoyed. He giggles inevitably, sliding it slowly into your wetness, and you can’t help but arch your back pleased when the knife starts to stretch your walls so torturously and deliciously. When his cool fingers touch you provoking you a soft chill, and you feel it’s completely inside you, Bucky moves back his hand with the same slow pace.

He’s driving you crazy. He knows it pretty well. He doesn’t enjoy anything more than the fact of having you under his control, under his power. Gripping his warm hand around your throat, he makes himself some space by your side on the sofa. Now, his lips can touch yours, drink your delighted sobs, look at your eyes from closer.

“Do you like it, baby doll?”

“Yes… Yes, sir… I li— like it, sir”. You utter with a broken thread of voice, nodding with your head briefly.

“I know. I can feel it. You think I don’t notice…” He whispers in a hum, sticking his forehead to yours, tightening the grip around your neck. “But the truth is… I do it on purpose. I always make sure you look at me. Anyone else, but at me”.

Oh, there it is. These insecurities he always hides masterfully, but the ones that claim your attention the whole time. Bucky needs you too. You were the first person who didn’t treat him like an assassin, nor like a monster. He lives to make you happy. He can’t think about the idea of losing you one day, just because he doesn’t give you enough. But he is. He is more than enough. And you prove him every single day since you met him.

“Please, sir… I wa— want more… faster”. You plea against his lips, placing your arms around his, softly swinging your hips at the rhythm of the knife he’s using to fuck you.

“You want it faster, uh?” He repeats playfully, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek at the end.

“Please…”

And Bucky pleases you. The move of his wrist makes the pace increase a little. The handle goes somewhat deeper, carefully to not hurt you. He twists it making you moan, stir, bite your tongue. Bucky is well-aware of what you like and how you like it. And he wants to make you cream his mini-machete to remember that day whenever he uses it in a mission, far away from you.

A wet, dirty noise starts to make an appearance when the thrusts into your soaked cunt are more constant, just like your satisfied vocals echo the room. Bucky spreads kisses all over your face, keeping his fingers around your neck to keep you close.

“God… you’re such a good girl taking my knife this good”. Your boyfriend can’t help but purr onto your ear, feeling how he could cum in his sweatpants just by looking at you so damn needy for him. “And I swear… it’s not gonna be the only one… I’m gonna make you fuck all my knives, doll”.

Just imagining it, you feel the tickles concentrating in your lower belly. You feel your juices spilling down your buttocks and staining the sofa. This man is going to be the death for you. But if you have to die… Is there any other better way?

“C'mon… do your magic…” He encourages you, getting closer to your lips.

Bucky doesn’t give you the chance to moan in a reply, tucking his tongue into your mouth to devour it. The pushes to your g-spot become eager, harder, and well-aimed; wanting at all cost to make you cum. And as soon as he feels your legs shivering, he goes faster. You can’t control it. The orgasm is growing inside you easily as a forest is set on fire with a match. Crying out with his tongue invading your cavity and dominating yours, you tangle a hand on his hair arching your back as you find a new position that gives you some more pleasure. But you can’t hold it anymore.

Bucky is stealing your air by gripping your throat tighter, kissing you so impatiently, and you can’t hold it anymore.

The soldier swallows the loud howl that borns in the deepest place of your soul, feeling the explosion inside your stomach as you jump inevitably into the abyss of heat. But he doesn’t stop. He continues rocking the knife inside you, wanting to hear you a little more. Wanting to hear his full name mixed with your delighted whining and your growls. It’s never enough for you, nor for him. And now you want him inside you.

“Please… Please…” You cry pushing his metallic hand away from you, making him toss the soaked knife with your juices to the floor. “Please, sir… Fuck me… I beg you… I need your dick”.

“'Course you need it, my little angel… You need it all the damn time, don’t you?” He doesn’t sound angry, but his voice is rougher than ever.

He’s upset because you have forced him to pull out his mini-machete, but soon Bucky forgets it when he is buried deep inside your cunt. His cunt. Only his.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it.

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thebibliosphere · 3 years ago

Note

So I'm currently unemployed because I got fired for taking too much sick leave (it was legally sketchy blah blah blah but in the end I just can't work and take care of myself and investigate my mystery health problems at the same time). So I've been spending more time writing!

I really admire your writing and loved Hunger Pangs. I'm looking forward to the poly elements developing and I'm wondering if you have any advice for writing about poly. I've made one of my projects a snarky take on "write what you know" ... Apparently what I know is southern gothic meets Pacific northwest gothic, chronic illness pandemic surrealism, and falling back-asswards into threesomes.

I know this is a very open-ended question and I don't expect an answer, I'm just curious about it if you have the energy. As a writer, trying to write honestly / realistically about polyamory/enm, I'm curious if you have any thoughts on what's different about portraying monogamy or nonmonogamy in books, romance or erotica or otherwise.

I'm trying to read examples but it's hard to find examples that fit the niche I'm looking at. Excuse me if this question is nonsense, it's the cluster headaches.

I'm sorry to hear you've been dealing with all that and solidarity on the cluster headaches. But I'm glad you're finding an outlet through writing! And I hope you're happy with an open-ended ramble in response because oh boy, there's a lot I could talk about and I could probably do a better job of answering this sort of thing with more specific questions, but let's see where we end up.

There's definitely a big difference between writing polyamory/ENM (ethical non-monogamy) and what people often expect from monogamous love stories.

Just even from a purely sales and marketing standpoint, the moment you write anything polyamorous (or even just straight up LGBTQIA+ without the ENM) you're going to get considered closer to being erotica/obscene than hetero romances. It's an unfair bias, but it's one that exists in our society. But also the Amazon algorithm and their shitty, shitty human censors. Especially the ones that work the weekends. (Talking to you, Carlos 🖕.)

So not only do you start out hyper-aware that you're writing something that is highly stigmatized or fetishized (at least I'm hyper-aware) but that you are also writing for a niche market that is starving for positive content because the content that exists is either limited, not what they want, or is problematic in some fashion i.e. highly stigmatized or fetishy. And even then, the wants, desires, and expectations of the community you're writing for are complex and wildly varied and hard to fit into an easy formula.

When writing monogamous love stories, there is a set expectation that’s really hard to fuck up once you know it. X person meets Y. Attraction happens, followed by some sort of minor conflict/resolution. Other plot may happen. A greater catalyst involving personal growth for both parties (hopefully) happens. Follow the equation to its ultimate resolution and achieve Happily Ever After.

But writing ENM is... a lot more difficult, if only because of the pure scope of possibilities. You could try to follow the same equation and shove three (or more) people into it, but it rarely works well. Usually because if you’re doing it right, you won’t have enough room in a single character arc to allow for enough growth, and if ENM requires anything in abundance, it’s room to grow.

And this post is huge so I’m going to put the rest under a cut :)

There's also a common refrain in certain online polyam/ENM circles that triads and throuples are overrepresented in media and they may be right to some extent. Personally, I believe the issue isn't that triads and throuples are overrepresented, but that there is such minuscule positive rep of ethical non-monogamy in general, that the few tiny instances we have of triads in media make it seem like it's "everywhere" when in actuality, it's still quite rare and the media we do have often veers into Unicorn Hunter fetish porn. Which is its own problematic thing. And just to be clear, I’m not including this part to dissuade you from writing "falling back-asswards into threesomes." If anything, I need more of it and would hook it directly into my brain if I could. I'm just throwing it out there into the void in the hope that someone will take the thought and run with it, lol.

I’d love to see more polyfidelitous rep in fiction, just as much as I’d like to see more relationship anarchy too. More diversity in fiction is always good.

Another thing that differs in writing ENM romance vs conventional monogamy is the feeling like you need to justify yourself. There's a lot of pressure to be as healthy and non-problematic as possible because you are being held to a higher standard of criticism. Both from people from without the ENM communities, and from the people within. Granted, some people don't give a shit and just want to read some fantastic porn (valid) but there are those who will cheerfully read Fifty Shades of Bullshit and call it "spicy" and "romantic," then turn around and call the most tooth-rottingly-sweet-fluff about a queer platonic polycule heresy. That's just the way the world works.

(Pro-tip for author life in general: never read your own reviews; that way madness lies. I glimpsed one the other day that tagged Hunger Pangs as “ethical cheating” and just about had an aneurism.)

And while that feeling of needing to justify yourself comes from a valid place of being excluded from the table of socially accepted norms, it can also be to the detriment of both the story and the subject matter at hand. I've seen some authors bend so far over backward to avoid being problematic in their portrayal of ENM, they end up being problematic for entirely different reasons. Usually because they give such a skewed, rose-tinted perspective of how things work, it ends up coming off as well... a bit culty and obnoxious tbh.

“Look how enlightened we are, freed from the trappings of monogamy and jealousy! We’re all so honest and perfect and happy!”

Yeah, uhu, sure Jan. Except here’s the thing, not all jealousy is bad. How you act on it can be, but jealousy itself is an important tool in the junk drawer that is the range of human emotion. It can clue us in to when we’re feeling sad or neglected, which in turn means we should figure out why we’re feeling those things. Sometimes it’s because brains are just like that and anxiety is a thing. Other times it’s because our needs are actually being neglected and we are in an unhealthy situation we need to remedy. You gotta put the work in to figure it out. Which is the same as any style of relationship, whether it’s mono, polyam or whatever flavor of ENM you subscribe to* And sometimes you just gotta be messy, because that’s how humans are. Being afraid to show that mess makes it a dishonest portrayal, and it also robs you of some great cannon fodder for character development.

Which brings me in a roundabout way to my current pet peeve in how certain writers take monogamous ideals and apply them to ENM, sometimes without even realizing it. The “Find the Right Person and Settle Down” trope.

Often, in this case, ENM or polyamory is treated as a phase. Something you mature out of with age or until you meet “The One(tm).” This is, of course, an attempt to follow the mono style formula expected in most romances. And while it might appeal to many readers, it’s uh, actually quite insulting.

To give an example, I am currently seeing this a lot in the Witcher fandom.

Fanon Netflix!Jaskier is everyone's favorite ethical slut until he meets Geralt then woops, wouldn’t you know, he just needed to find The One(tm). Suddenly, all his other sexual and romantic exploits or attractions mean nothing to him. Let's watch as he throws away a core aspect of his personality in favor of a man.

Yeah... that sure showed those societal norms...

If I were being generous, I’d say it’s a poor attempt at showing New Relationship Euphoria and how wrapped up people can become in new relationships. But honestly, it’s monogamous bias eking its way in to validate how special and unique the relationship is. Because sometimes people really can’t think of any other way to show how important and valid a relationship is without defining it in terms of exclusivity. Which is a fundamental misunderstanding of how ENM works for a lot of people and invalidates a lot of loving, serious and long-term relationships.

This is not to say that some polyam/poly-leaning people can't be happy in monogamous relationships! I am! (I consider myself ambiamorous. I'm happy with either monogamy or polyamory, it really just depends on the relationship(s) I’m in.) But I also don't regard my relationship with a mono partner as "settling down" or "growing up." It's just a choice I made to be with a person I love, and it's a valid one. Just like choosing to never close yourself off to multiple relationships is valid. And I wish more people realized that, or rather, I wish the people writing these things knew that :P

Anyway, I think I’ve rambled enough. I hope this collection of incoherent thoughts actually makes some sense and might be useful.

----

*A good resource book that doesn't pull any punches in this regard is Polysecure by Jessica Fern. It's a wonderfully insightful read that explores the messier side of consensual non-monogamy, especially with how it can be affected by trauma or inter-relationship conflicts. But it also shows how to take better steps toward healthy, ethical non-monogamy (a far better job than More Than Two**) and conflict resolution, making it a valuable resource both for someone who is a part of this relationship style***, but also for writers on the outside looking in who might have a very simple or misguided idea of what conflict within polyam/ENM relationships might look like, vs traditional monogamous ones.

** The author of More Than Two has been accused of multiple accounts of abuse within the polyamorous community, with many of his coauthors having spoken out about the gaslighting and emotional and psychological damage they experienced while in a relationship with him. A lot of their stories are documented here: https://www.itrippedonthepolystair.com/ (warning: it is not light material and deals with issues of abuse, gaslighting, and a whole other plethora of Yikes.) While some people still find More Than Two helpful reading, there are now, thankfully, much, much better resources out there.

*** Some people consider polyam/ENM to be part of their identity or orientation, while others view it as a relationship style.It largely depends on the individual.

#long post #writing #ethical non-monogamy #relationship styles #relationship models in fiction #also that kindle link is an affiliate link #because fuck giving amazon free recs

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nxrthmizu · 4 years ago

Text

kill em’ with kindness

fandom | miraculous ladybug

genre | lila salt, so much salt

summary | marinette takes the high road to a better life.

w.c | 8.1k

author’s note | had this idea for a few days after i wrote victory tastes bitter, which really blew up on ao3 (thanks for all the support <3). always wondered what it would be like if marinette just. played nice. so here she is, being an absolute badass.

author’s note.2 | okay so since i did not write this in one sitting, i get that the story probably doesn’t flow as properly as it should. will edit if i ever find the will to do it.

Marinette was done. They wanted her to be a model student? Fine. They wanted her to stop being mean? Fine. They wanted her to be friends with Lila? Fine.

Luckily for Hawkmoth, no akuma plagued the sky of the previous night, or she would rain hell on him. There was no more tolerance left inside her to spare, and she certainly wouldn’t go out of her way to make some for the manipulative pest problem Paris has had for way too long.

She looked up into the mirror, having exchanged her pigtails for a low ponytail, strands curled to frame her face. Bluebell eyes glistened with a fire that burned brighter than hope— Hope that her ‘friends’ would see sense. Hope that Adrien would be there for her. Hope that the good guy would always get the happy ending. No more being patient, no more being passive, no more putting up with things she didn’t have to.

If Lila Rossi wanted a battle, then fine, a battle she would get. Marinette was lowering her white flag, replacing it with a battle emblem that scorched red, redder than blood and redder than the anger her friends would feel when she was finished. No more peace negotiations. Rossi wanted a fight, Rossi wanted a challenge. Who was Marinette to deny her from what she wanted?

They didn’t know what was coming for them.

The power of makeup was truly one that reigned apex among the world. A few touches of her makeup brush was all it took to erase her dark eyes from existence, give her skin a more radiant glow (She promised that she’d take time to give it a natural glow after she was done being nice), and ease a cherry-pink blush onto her cheeks, making her freckles stand out more in contrast. Marinette Dupain-Cheng meant business, and when she meant business—

“Good morning, Marinette! You look great today!” The head of the student council, a sensible, down-to-Earth blonde by the name of Noelle smiled, speeding up slightly to catch the bluenette on the steps of Francois Dupont. “Love the new look.”

Ah yes. The new look— A royal blue blazer, detailed with golden embroidery of cherry blossoms bursting at the sleeves and the collar, accompanied by a classy-looking silk blouse tapered with a soft, black felt. The pleated black skirt (Made from heavy cloth so that it wouldn’t flap about in the wind) was lined with a beautiful scarlet at all the edges to complete the look. Knee-high black socks trailed all the way into the slight heels that Marinette had added flower adornments on, just so she could tap a little of her own touch on it.

“Thank you,” Responded the bluenette with a smile.

“Woah! Someone looks like they got a good night of rest.” Madeline, the president of the Art Club teased, flocking to the other side of the girl. “That mascara looks sharp enough to kill, girl!”

Sharp enough to kill?

Oh, that wouldn’t be necessary, Marinette mused to herself, sending out thanks to those who had complimented her on her way to class. Nothing sharp was going to be required for the liar’s downfall— No, no. That would just be too messy, and she wouldn’t even think of staining her new outfit. Of course, the ensemble was crafted from her own hands, as stated by the classic MDC that graced the inside of her blazer, the collar of her blouse, and one of the pleats of her skirt. Besides… Lila wasn’t worth getting her hands dirty.

She was going to do things the right way.

The kind way.

“Good morning, everyone.” She greeted, walking into the classroom, garnering their attention with her punctuality. Every set of eyes in the room were attracted to her, like iron fillings to magnets. Some of the gazes were malicious, hateful; Some were doubtful, wary; One was pleading, as if spelling out ‘Please keep taking the high road!’— And then there was Chloe, who was entirely uninterested.

Good, Lila was already present.

“I’d just like to take a minute of your time. Won’t be too long, I promise.” She took a deep breath, ignoring the imploring gaze that dug at her side, courtesy of a blonde that sat in the front row (And no, it wasn’t Chloe she was referring to). “I’d just like to say…”

The class watched with bated breath.

“I’m sorry.”

Alya blinked. So did everyone else in the room. Stunned faces greeted Marinette’s apologetic one, including Lila’s— She didn’t even have to fake her reaction. What on Earth was Marinette trying to pull off? What kind of stunt was this?

“I realise that I’ve not really been the best version of me lately,” She admitted sorrowfully. I haven’t been the best version of me because I was being boycotted and isolated, “It wasn’t fair to put you all through this,” It wasn’t fair that you idiots had to lose all your reputations because of the words of one liar, “And people got hurt as a consequence,” Me. I was the one who got hurt. “I realise that things haven’t been all smooth-sailing in our class lately, so I’d like to apologise to everyone.” I’d like to apologise for not being able to save you from a liar who only sees her own personal gain.

A practiced breath escaped Marinette’s throat as she waited for her cue— The school bell— And set her bag on the teacher’s desk. Good, everything was unfolding right on time. Not quite far away, there was a distinct clack-clack-clack of someone’s heels— An auburn teacher, perhaps? Marinette reached into her backpack and drew out a package she had meticulously wrapped in brown paper and tied in golden ribbon. Sitting passively on top of the package was a small note, decorated in hand-drawn flowers and a hummingbird in the corner.

“Here,” Marinette strode up the steps of the class, stopping right in front of her former seat— Now Lila’s— Internally taking pleasure in the first time she’d seen the Italian’s true expression. “For you, as a token of my apology. I understand if you don’t want to forgive me,” Marinette swallowed painfully, biting her lip, as if she was trying not to cry, “But I just want to make things right.”

Lila blinked.

What the hell was happening?

The silence was broken by a quiet sob, one that did not originate from Marinette. Instead, Mlle. Caline Bustier stood in the doorway of the class, clutching her books and notes for the day’s lesson, wiping away a tear that dropped from her eye. “Oh, Marinette,” The teacher sobbed, “I’m so proud of you.”

“That’s so sweet of you, Marinette.” Rose sniffed, wiping away a few tears of her own that had started dripping during the bluenette’s speech. Juleka patted her girlfriend’s back, trying to calm the emotional blonde before she cried out a tsunami on top of her textbooks, giving Marinette a thumbs up to show her approval.

Alya beamed, seemingly proud of her former best friend, who had (In her opinion) finally started to see sense. “I’m so proud of you, girl!”

(Adrien was too shocked to form any words.)

“Could you… Open it?” Marinette asked hopefully, ignoring the teacher for the favour of the liar who ruined her life. “I… Just want to know if you like it.”

The Italian could do nothing more than grit her teeth when Alya urged her to open it. What kind of trick was Mari-Brat up to? Never mind— She’d just spin it into something stupid and the class would take to it like starved animals. With no other choice, she tore apart the brown paper, discarding the golden ribbon on her desk. The class gasped, oohs and aahs echoing all around as the package unfolded to reveal a pretty, beige-coloured cardigan, hand-stitched with murals of foxes, jumping livelily among berry bushes.

Stitched into the inside of the cardigan in pastel blue were the words ‘Lila Rossi’, done in an exquisite cursive that could no doubt only come from Marinette’s hand.

“I made it for you myself,” Marinette sniffed humbly. “I know you’re a really great model and you’ve probably seen clothes that are much better than this one, but I poured all my feelings into it. I spent every night of last week working on it, and—” She hiccuped rather loudly, instantly covering her mouth with her hand in embarrassment. “I just hope you like it.”

“I…” Lila was at a loss for words. She had an itinerary full of the lies and stories she would spin that day (“Marinette texted me mean things last night,” she would weep tearfully to Alya, sniffing and wiping away tears on Alya’s shirt sleeve, “I just want to be friends but she just keeps… Attacking me!”) but no matter. A smirk danced along the Italian’s lips. “Did you design this yourself?”

Judging by the smirk that Marinette could practically hear in the other girl’s tone, the liar already had a trick up her sleeve. If Marinette had to guess...

Something along the lines of she stole this design from [random designer], who just coincidentally had the time to be Lila’s friend. Or maybe the friend of Lila’s grandmother. Whichever didn’t matter much, because Marinette was prepared.

Marinette crossed the room in mere seconds, returning back to Lila’s seat with a sketchbook that she’d pulled from her bag. “Here!” She chirped, flipping open the page with an exercised movement, not even having to shuffle through the pages to find the correct sketch. “I brought the original sketch, just in case you wanted to see it so you could get a professional to redo it for you.”

Lila opened and closed her mouth like a gaping fish out of water. Beside her, Alya’s eyes sparkled, envy still glowing in her eyes at the sight of the intricate foxes, coloured in hazel, gold, and orange threads.

“Thank you, Marinette.” Lila gritted through her teeth, basically seething at the thought of having to thank the girl in front of her, who was smiling like an innocent sunshine child.

The bluenette then turned her attention to her homeroom teacher. “Sorry for interrupting and taking up class time, Mlle. Bustier.”

“It’s not a problem, Marinette,” Mlle. Bustier wiped at her eyes, slightly embarrassed now that the whole class was watching her cry at the sight of her ‘model student’ correcting her wrongs. “E— Excuse me.” She mumbled, clearing her throat. “Let’s pick off from where we stopped yesterday. Open your textbooks to page 63, please.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The rest of the day went along smoothly. Marinette sat at the back of class, as usual, sighing in boredom as class was derailed off course, whisked off by another one of Lila’s tall tales. Honestly, they were already weeks off schedule— How the hell were they expected to sit for the final exam, at this rate?

She huffed quietly to herself, watching Bustier trying (and failing) to act like she wasn’t interested in Lila’s story. The woman— An actual adult— Fell for Lila’s usual tricks like a fool, taking in every single word in drunken thirst. Did Mlle. Bustier really have nothing better to do than get absorbed in a teenage girl’s wild fantasies (in a way it was like that). At that thought, Marinette sat up straighter in her chair, an idea going off like a lightbulb above her brain.

Was it...?

After further thought, Marinette settled back into her chair, humming thoughtfully as she drummed her fingers against her table quietly. Yes... Yes, perhaps.

Perhaps it was possible.

The rest of the lesson passed in wasted time as the class took a major detour to go on a warped journey through Lila’s lies, and before Bustier knew it, the lunch bell had rung. Students chattered animatedly as everyone got up, Mlle. Bustier’s announcement of ‘please go home and study this chapter by yourselves, everyone’ was pathetically drowned out by the rest of the noise.

Marinette collected her things quickly, needing her exit from the classroom to go off without a hitch, exactly the way she planned it. “I’ve got to go back to my parents’ bakery for lunch,” She said shyly, shrinking into herself as her classmates turned to look at her. “I... Was thinking of bringing some macarons back later. Before I go, though... Lila, is there anything you’re allergic to?”

“What?” The girl being asked snapped back as a reply, the words leaving her mouth too fast for her to register. Before she knew it, the whole class was staring at her, mouths agape. “I... I mean.” Clearing her throat, the liar plastered on a sweet smile. “What was it, Marinette?”

“I wanted to bring some macarons back for everyone.” Shyly, the bluenette repeated her plans. “And... Since I’ve been in class with everyone else here for a while, I know their allergies, but not yours. Is there anything you’re allergic to that could be in baked goods?”

The Italian cursed under her breath— Mari-Brat really wasn’t letting up. The bluenette had made sure to cover any ground that the Italian could use and turn back against her. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m not allergic to anything.”

Brightening visibly, Marinette nodded, shooting the Italian a smile. “I know things between us aren’t going to get better immediately, but I promise to do my best in fixing things! See you guys after lunch.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Lila was getting really, really fed up. For the whole morning, she wasn’t able to come up with any reason to blame Marinette. If things kept going at the rate that they were, the class would be fully convinced that the bluenette was a changed woman, and that couldn’t happen. There was, in the end, a downside to having such a gullible bunch of classmates— Sure, they swayed easily to her side, but that meant that they swayed back to Marinette’s just as easily.

Hissing under her breath, Lila looked up to catch Alya and Nino’s concerned looks.

No.

She was Lila Rossi. She was resourceful. She had Gabriel Agreste behind her back. She was powerful. She was not going to let Mari-Brat halt her plans in their tracks ever again.

“I’m going to go use the bathroom real quick,” She said, excusing herself from the lunch table. Perfect! Now all she had to do was come back in tears, saying that Marinette confronted and mocked her in the bathroom, and the class would be all hers, once again.

Little did she know that Dupain-Cheng was one teensy step ahead.

As soon as Lila rounded the corner of the cafeteria, Marinette appeared, having just had a lovely chat with Rose (And Juleka, although it was Rose who did most of the talking). The two were at the front steps of Francois Dupont, having a lovely couple moment that Marinette hated to interrupt— But she needed to have at least a word with them.

“Rose, Juleka!” Marinette greeted, box of macarons held carefully in her arms, as if it were a box of important jewelry instead of just a box of pastries. “Oh— Rose, is that a new watch? I’ve never seen you wear it before!”

“Yep, it is!” Rose beamed, delighted that someone (Besides Juleka) had finally noticed it. “Isn’t it pretty?” Indeed it was. The watch in question was a pretty, intricate-looking thing done in rose-gold metal, with a pastel pink leather strap holding it down. The background of the watch face was a white background with a thin film of rose-gold metal, cut to resemble a wall of precious rose vines.

“It is!” Agreeing wholeheartedly, Marinette offered her classmate a smile. “Oh by the way, what time is it?”

Rose peered at the watchface, returning the answer with an equally-bright smile. “11.47.”

“Thank you.” Marinette thanked, continuing her way through the school until she reached the cafeteria. Just before she fell into line of sight, though, she hid behind a wall, peering over the corner until she spotted the table she was looking for.

Perfect— Lila just walked away. Marinette thanked the gods for all the luck that she was having— Okay, maybe she thanked one god in particular more than the others. Gently, she patted the secret pocket that was sewn into the lining of her blazer— Tikki, who had magic powers, managed to create a miniature ‘room’ inside the secret pocket, with the pocket itself acting as a portal of sorts to the room. After a few seconds, she felt the pocket tap back, managing a small smile of gratitude for her kwami’s constant love and support.

“Hey, Alya, Nino.” Marinette greeted shyly, box of macarons propped up against her hip. “Where’s... Lila?” She hesitated slightly with her question, acting as if it was a little out-of-place to ask about the Italian girl.

“She went to the bathroom.” Nino provided, mouth still full of unchewed food. This gifted him with a smack from his girlfriend (“Don’t talk with your mouth full!” she scolded,).

“Oh, I see.” I definitely see. I know what she’s going to try and pull later— I have to time this properly. Timing is everything.

Marinette continued to make small talk with the two, whom she had not talked to for a very long time. Much to her surprise, they were very warm and accepting, quite unlike the people who slung slurs and accused her baselessly a few days ago. One morning made all the difference to people who believed anything, she supposed.

All of a sudden, something in her chest buzzed, as if it were a fire alarm, vibrating in warning— She had to go. “It was nice talking to you guys again.” She admitted, having briefly dipped into a pool of what their friendship used to be like. “But I have to go. I promised Kagami I’d meet her for a few minutes before lunch ended.”

Alya’s eyebrows jumped up comically in surprise. “I didn’t know you still talked to her. I thought you two were… Love rivals.”

“So what if we were love rivals?” Marinette shrugged with a simple smile. “Adrien is… As much as it’s odd to admit, he’s just a boy. Neither of us let him get in between us. He’s just a boy, and it’d be stupid for us to not get along just because we like the same boy. It doesn’t bother Kagami that we used to like the same boy, so why should I let it bother me? Besides,” Marinette tilted her head slightly. “It’d be stupid to give up a great friendship just because of a boy.”

With her last words still hanging in the air, Marinette turned tail and left, walking faster than usual. She had little time left— As she neared the wall that would shield her from the view of the cafeteria, she sped up her footsteps, practically half-sprinting just so she could get out of sight before Lila Rossi returned, looking like someone just killed a puppy in front of her very eyes.

“Oh my god, what’s wrong?” Alya jumped to her feet instantly, reaching out to comfort her best friend, who was moments away from having tears stream down her cheeks.

“I… I thought she’d changed.” Lila sniffled, biting her lip to appear as if she was desperately trying not to cry.

Alya frowned. “Who?”

“Marinette.” Lila stated as if it were obvious, faltering for a moment— Why had Alya bothered to ask? Shouldn’t it come pretty obvious? The liar dismissed the thoughts and continued in her performance. “She threatened me in the bathroom. She… She confronted me and mocked me, saying… Saying that all of you… All of you are idiots for believing that she’s changed. She… She said everything was an act to turn you all against me.”

Nino’s jaw dropped so far that it touched the floor. “Uh… Dudette, are you sure it was Marinette?”

“Yes!” Lila spun to look at him so fast that it was a wonder she didn’t break her neck. “Are… Are you doubting me? Oh my god, it’s working. She’s turning you guys against me. I just want to have friends, I don’t get why she hates me so—”

“You’re… Absolutely sure it was Marinette? You saw her face?” Alya repeated her boyfriend’s words, emphasising each and everyone of them as she looked Lila in the eyes.

“Alya, not you too.” Lila sniffled, tears basically dropping out of her eyes like big, fat droplets of salt water. “It was her— I saw her blazer, it had MDC stitched onto it.”

An uncomfortable silence settled in between the girl and her boyfriend, neither quite knowing what to say. “Oh. I… I see.” Alya said at last, turning back to her food. “Well… Lunch is almost over. Let’s… Let’s get back to class.”

“Marinette just threatened me in the bathroom!” Lila puffed up, clearly upset now. “She mocked me! She called you guys stupid for believing her act!”

“Dudette.” Nino shattered the ice-cold silence at their lunch table, swallowing heavily. “Marinette was with us the whole time you were in the bathroom.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The tension inside the room was so thick that Adrien could cut it with his bare hands. God, what had happened? The day had started off so well— Marinette agreed to be friends with Lila, god bless the girl— But as it turned out, one hurdle folded over only to be towered over by a taller one.

“Alya—” Lila began tearfully, her pitiful look attracting the sympathy of those who still didn’t know what was going on.

“You claimed that Marinette threatened you in the bathroom.” Alya interrupted. “While she was with us the whole time in the cafeteria.”

Faltering, the Italian struggled to find a way to squeeze herself out of the tight spot. “M— Maybe it was someone else.” Reluctantly, she backed out one trap into another one.

“You said that you were sure! You said that she was wearing a blazer with MDC stitched on it. Marinette was wearing that blazer during lunch!” The reporter shot back, Nino at her side, trying to extinguish the conflicted fire blazing inside Alya’s heart.

The seeds of doubt had been sewn, and Lila was going to have a tough time weeding them out. “I... I’m sorry!” She burst out into tears, sobbing pitifully in front of the class, most of which were already in attendance. “My lying disease is acting up again. I... I can’t help it. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone!”

“Uh... Is this a bad time to ask if anyone wants macarons?” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, standing at the front of the room. Her royal blue blazer had been shed, and it now hung over her arm, properly folded into half. Earlier, she had asked Rose for the time to make sure that she had a witness in case Lila tried to pull another act— But as it seemed, the Italian was determined to dig her own grave and all the work had been done.

The students of Mlle. Bustier’s class shared looks.

“I’ll... I’ll have one.” Mylene cleared her throat, hoping that it would diffuse the situation.

“Me too.” Kim followed, not missing the way Marinette flinched slightly at his words. Most of the words he had said to her of late had not been nice at all— But he justified that with the fact that she was being a bully to Lila, like Chloe had been to Marinette herself.

“Great!” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, slapping on a strained smile. She passed the box to the front row, where Sabrina and Chloe were, gesturing for them to pass the box along until everyone got their fill.

Internally, Lila seethed, anger burning like a wildfire that tore down every lush sign of life in her path. The girl had never felt that livid in her entire life— Who did Dupain-Cheng think she was, having a change of heart out of nowhere, pretending to play along with those oh-so-innocent eyes of hers?

“I... I think I know why my disease acted up again,” Lila sniffled, loud enough to gather attention again. Unsure glances passed around like an object that no one wanted, carried from hand to hand forcefully as no one wanted to hold onto it for too long. “It... It must’ve been because of... Of the cardigan that Marinette made me! You must’ve known that...” The Italian squinted at the cardigan on her desk, “... Cotton triggers my lying disease!”

The bluenette, still passing around macarons, stopped in her tracks. Inside her mind, Marinette was shaking her head, an amused smile on her cheeks. She had to give Lila credit for that one— She would’ve never anticipated that lie from her nemesis. “That’s terrible!” She sucked in a breath, putting on a dismayed look. “I’m really sorry, Lila! I know it seems like I did this on purpose, but I promise I didn’t! To make it up to you, I’ll make you another one.”

Is she serious right now? Lila scoffed mentally. How long does she plan to keep this going? No matter— She’ll eventually drain herself out and I won’t even have to meddle in this matter.

Marinette sniffled, collecting the cardigan pitifully from Lila’s desk. “But to prevent future incidents, Lila, I just want you to know that this isn’t made of cotton... It’s made from the highest-quality of star silk, which is incredibly difficult to produce and is rather expensive. It’s such a pity... I thought that only the best of materials would be deserving to be used to make an apology present... I guess you can’t wear it. I’ll just make another copy of the cardigan with some normal-range silk.” Sighing, the bluenette pretended to mull in sadness for a few seconds before an idea struck her. “Alya! You aren’t allergic to star silk, right?”

The flow of conversation redirected suddenly, with the reporter snapping to attention and nodding eagerly as she realised what was about to happen.

“Then... Since I’ve spent so long on this, I don’t want it to go to waste... Why don’t you have it, instead?” Offered Marinette with a sweet, shy smile on her face.

Lila, still caught up in shock by the reveal of the material— Was then slammed with a wall of flaming anger as Alya squealed, coddling the soft, fluffy material that made the cardigan the exquisite product it was.

“Marinette’s right,” Adrien chipped in with his own two cents, “Father can rarely get his hands on that material— It costs a fortune, and if hand-made... It takes forever.”

“Oh, I wove the silk by myself,” Marinette added shyly after Adrien’s contribution, “So I apologise if it’s not up to the quality of industry-level star silk.”

The reporter gushed, still cooing and running her hands over the gorgeous threads of fabric that made up the cloud-like base of the cardigan, eyes sparkling and the details of the embroidery.

Marinette smiled, returning to her seat without a fuss. The rest of the class continued to pass the pastries around, the perfect description of ‘ignorance is bliss’ as they pretended as if they couldn’t see the way Lila was shaking in anger. Alya, on the other hand, could see nothing but the garment in her hands, her ‘best friend’ having become invisible for the time being.

Just as well that it turned out this way, Marinette hummed, twirling her pen in hand, Let that be my departing gift to Rena Rouge.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Tomorrow arrived like clockwork, never late and always on time. The crowd of students clamouring by the front of Francois Dupont hushed to silence as they parted for two dark-haired women, both of which were giving off waves of confidence. Simple conversation flowed between the two, who were perfect examples of elegance and grace, their traditional-inspired attire complementing the royal-like aura they had.

“This dress is really lovely, Marinette,” Kagami smiled gently, admiring the way the fabric flowed around her. The designer had gifted her friend with a maroon-coloured hanfu-inspired dress, complete with hand-sewn embroidery of a golden dragon curled around Kagami’s waist and neck. The dress was completed with a pleated skirt that went all the way to the heels. At first, the fencer was reluctant about the skirt due to the limited maneuverability, but then Marinette revealed that the skirt was very simple to take off as it was just tied around the waist.

“You look gorgeous in it. It suits you.” Marinette replied, dressed in a similar looking dress. Her hanfu-inspired dress was light pink in colour, with silver threads depicting cranes flying about freely. The pleated skirt was grey in colour, lined with a soft circle of white.

Kagami blushed slightly. “Thank you.” Briefly, the Japanese girl wondered why on Earth Marinette would go and embroider a dragon onto her dress— Was it purely a coincidence, or...?

“I’m really glad you decided to transfer here,” Marinette smiled softly, her dark blue bangs framing her face as the rest of it was gathered into a braid that Kagami had helped weave. “It’s going to be nice! I’ll get to see you a lot more often.”

“We’re in different classes, though.” Frowning, Kagami wondered if she should request a change of homeroom.

“For now.” The designer winked playfully. “Oh, I have to get to class. See you during lunch?”

Without waiting for a reply, the blue-eyed girl moved away gracefully, leaving Kagami in confusion.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Good morning,” Marinette greeted gracefully, sweeping into the classroom with her bag over her shoulder and a package in her hands. This package was clearly not as exquisitely-wrapped as the one from the day before, as it was just brown paper and some rough string.

Alya brightened at the sight of her friend, shrinking away slightly whenever Lila tried to say anything. Sure, the reporter did shake off the initial reaction and respond to whatever her ‘best friend’ said, but the damage had been done.

“Here’s your new cardigan. It’s made from the same material as your shirt,” Marinette smiled warmly, placing the package on Lila’s table. “It’s a little different from the one I brought yesterday, but I still poured in all my emotions when I made it, so I hope you’ll accept it.”

Through a gritted smile, the Italian thanked the designer, clenching her fists under the table. That was the second time in two days she had to thank Mari-brat! She swore that if she had to do it again a third time, she was going to slap someone.

“Oh, Marinette!” Alya called out excitedly, wearing the cardigan that was originally supposed to be Lila’s. “This cardigan is so soft! It’s really amazing to wear! As expected of you, girl!”

The bluenette stared back at the reporter, wavering for a bit. She had a feeling that Alya wanted something from her...

“So... I was wondering...” The reporter’s expression turned sheepish, with Marinette’s internal thought-train going ah, there it comes— “Could you remove this and put my name instead?” Alya picked up the corner of the cardigan, pointing to the inside of the garment, where ‘Lila Rossi’ was embroidered on.

“Ah...” Marinette didn’t even have to fake her nervousness. We already agreed on this, She told herself, No more doing free stuff for people. No more. “Sorry, Alya. My parents need a lot of help in the bakery recently,.. You know how it is! Family always comes first. I’ve already taken out a lot of time to make the cardigan for Lila... And I promised Kagami I’d go out with her this weekend. I’m afraid I don’t have time...”

There was no missing the way Alya’s face fell instantly. “Couldn’t you put off Kagami for me? Aren’t we best friends?”

“I thought Lila was your best friend,” Feigning an expression of innocence, Marinette tilted her head slightly. “You shouldn’t go around saying things like that, Alya. You might hurt Lila’s feelings. Besides, a promise is a promise. I wouldn’t want to hurt Kagami’s feelings either. Not to mention— I gave you that cardigan for free. That was two weeks’ worth of hard work. I’m afraid I don’t have the ability to take time out to alter it for free either. If you really want to get it done, you could ask an external tailor to do it for you. I know a few who can do really good embroidery.”

Alya faltered. “But... We used to be best friends...”

Snorting mentally, Marinette continued to hold her calm composure. “Like I said, you really shouldn’t say that, Alya. Lila might get upset and we don’t want to hurt her feelings— Right, Adrien?”

The blonde jumped when the conversation turned to him out of nowhere. All of a sudden, every eye in the classroom was fixed on him. “R— Right, of course.” He said, forcing out each word.

Satisfied, Marinette nodded, still wearing her ever-so-kind smile. “Exactly.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Hey, why don’t we all go out and have a picnic outside during lunch?” Alya suggested loudly, jumping up as soon as the lunch bell rang. “Marinette, you can come along too!” Something inside the reporter’s chest was stirring, and with the events of the past few days, Alya felt like she just had to quench that unsettling feeling— And the first step to that was to mend things with Marinette, even though it was the bluenette’s fault for always having been biased to Lila. Alya smiled, proud of herself. She would be the bigger person, she would forgive Marinette, she would integrate the designer back into the class again.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Marinette replied just as quickly, “We don’t know what Lila might be allergic to— She could easily trigger a reaction if we go out, especially since it’s spring.”

A collective choir of groans rounded the class.

“Well, I’m going to go back to the hotel to have a first-class meal,” Chloe turned her nose up at her classmates. “... Dupain-Cheng, would you like to come?”

Shock painted the faces of the whole classroom. Did Chloe just... Ask Marinette something... Politely?

“I’d love to take that offer, Chloe.” Responded the bluenette, graceful and flawless as ever. “Perhaps tomorrow?”

“Suit yourself. They’re serving lobster today.” Chloe huffed. “If you’re really that busy, then fine. We can discuss...” The Mayor’s daughter trailed off as she blushed.

The bluenette giggled knowingly. “You’d like to commission a dress from me, right?”

“... No.”

“...”

“... Maybe.”

“Alright.” Marinette nodded. “Then maybe it’ll be more convenient if I head over to the hotel after school. I’ll need to take your measurements and we can discuss the prices after.”

“Whatever.” Chloe waved her away haughtily, a poor effort to cover up her embarrassment. “Sabrina. Let’s go.”

“Chloe?” Alya guffawed. “Why are you commissioning something from Marinette?”

Rolling her eyes as if Alya had just asked the stupidest question ever, Chloe answered plainly. “Because she’s one of the up-and-rising designers in the industry? Have you seen what Dupain-Cheng is wearing today? Celebrities are already fighting for spots in her commission list. Even my mother and Gabriel Agreste acknowledge her talent. I’m not dumb, Cesaire. I can recognise a future fashion queen when I see one.”

Wow, Marinette breathed, looking at the stunned faces around the room, Chloe sure knows how to create an impression.

“W— Well.” Stuttered the reporter after Chloe made her big exit. “Then... What about going to the bakery for lunch?”

“Didn’t Lila say she saw a rat in the bakery the last time she visited it?” Marinette pointed out. “The health officer checked the surveillance and the claim was dismissed, of course, because my parents make sure the bakery is as hygienic as possible— But I’m sure Lila is traumatised from that incident. I wouldn’t want to force her to come along to the bakery— And we wouldn’t want to leave her out either, right?”

This elicited another round of groans.

Oh, I am enjoying myself way too much, Marinette chuckled mentally.

“Then— Then...” Alya struggled visibly before she was put out of her misery.

“It’s fine, Alya.” The designer reassured her. “I wouldn’t want to bother Lila. I’m sure she’s still upset at me. You guys go ahead. I have to go back to the bakery to help my parents out. See you guys after!”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Slam!

Lila fumed, hand still pressed on her locker door. What. The. Hell. Was Mari-brat trying to do? She didn’t miss the way some of her classmates sent her unsatisfactory looks after that pre-lunch stunt that Marinette had pulled.

And what was the thing about high-and-mighty Chloe commissioning from Marinette?

Sure, Lila would admit that the cardigan that the designer made was indeed gorgeous, and the fabric was smooth and velvety, a quality unlike any of the clothing that Lila had ever had the privilege to touch— But surely a lowly brat like Dupain-Cheng couldn’t be that popular... Right?

Dammit, hissed the Italian girl, Maybe I should’ve tried being friends with Mari-brat instead of Cesaire.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Is that... Marinette and Kagami?” Nino gaped, prompting Alya to turn around. It was true— Walking up the steps of Francois Dupont together were the two blue-haired girls, a gentle smile dancing on Kagami’s lips as Marinette talked animatedly, her hands waving around quickly to further elaborate her point.

Students lounging around the entrance for lunch couldn’t tear their eyes off the two and their matching dresses. Sure, the two girls had walked into school the same way that morning— But now that the afternoon sun was high up in the sky, the golden and silver embroidery was glinting luminously, revealing the true caliber of Marinette’s craft.

“But... They’re rivals.” Stuttered Alya. She just couldn’t understand... Weren’t they supposed to hate each other?

“They both like Adrien but they can still get along,” Nino remarked thoughtfully, taking a bite from his sandwich. “So Marinette wasn’t lying about going to meet Kagami yesterday.”

Alya was silent.

“Alya? What’s wrong?” Worried, Nino put a hand around his girlfriend’s shoulder, care and concern shining through his honest eyes.

“If... If Marinette doesn’t get jealous or biased over someone who also likes Adrien...” Alya started quietly, eyes still fixed on the two girls, “Then why was she so against Lila?”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Mlle. Bustier?” The teacher looked up at the voice of her favourite student. Fondly, she smiled. Marinette had finally seen the light and changed her ways, becoming the helpful, generous, kind Marinette that served as a great example for her peers. “May I make an announcement before class ends?”

“Of course, dear.” Mlle. Bustier gave permission instantly— Marinette was taking up the reins of leadership again! The teacher couldn’t help but do a happy dance internally.

“I have an announcement to make, so if everyone could listen, I’d be really thankful.” Marinette started, her clear blue eyes meeting those of her classmates.

She took a deep breath. This is it. I’ve done what I needed to do, now it’s time to finish the job.

“These past two days... Have been great,” Marinette started wistfully. “I really missed hanging around everyone, just like we did before,” Before you all turned your backs on me and stabbed me when I wasn’t looking, “But I can’t deny— And neither can you— That the things that have happened... They had a really deep impact. And I’ve realised that I can’t just ignore that damage that has been done.” The damage that has been done to me. “So, for the better of everyone— I’ve decided that I... Will transfer classes.”

It was as if an explosion had gone off in Mlle. Bustier’s classroom.

“Girl! You can’t do that!” Alya exclaimed in dismay, “We can fix things! Everything has been going well these few days, haven’t they?”

“Dudette! Honestly, we forgive you.” Nino sighed, “Things just aren’t the same if you’re not here anymore.”

Adrien didn’t say a word, but the imploring gaze he wore said enough. Please don’t leave me here alone. We promised we’d fight together, right? As long as both of us know...

Marinette held her hand up to silence them, and the classroom, just as swiftly, became the deadly silence that followed post-disaster. “I understand. But once again, this is for the better,” — Of my mental health, “I’ve talked to Mlle. Mendeliev, and she’s agreed to take me in. I believe that once the changes have taken place, we can all grow more freely without restrictions.”

In the corner, Mlle. Bustier was tearing up and dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve.

“Mlle. Bustier,” Marinette turned to her teacher, no malice in her eyes. “I’ll be under Mlle. Mendeliev’s care now.”

“Marinette...” The teacher sobbed quietly, with Chloe shooting her a look of disgust from the front row.

“It’s not going to be easy for any of us,” Marinette turned back to the class, “But with time, I’m sure we will all prosper. Especially since you will now be under the care of our one and only Lila Rossi.”

Adrien looked like someone had just killed a puppy in front of him.

“Since I am the current class president, I thought I’d pass on the duties onto the most capable person in our class.” Marinette explained warmly, never moving her gaze away from the bewildered Lila. “Lila has the most connections in our class out of all of us, and she’s met so many CEOs and entrepreneurs that she must know a lot about organising and planning. I’m sure you can do it, Lila, but...” She paused. “You can handle it, right?”

“Y— Yeah. Of course.” Lila stuttered.

“You promised the class that you’d get BTS to perform for the year-end fundraiser since you were supposed to be in an arranged marriage with their youngest member, Jungkook.” Marinette continued, God I am enjoying myself too much honestly, but I ain’t going to stop now, “And you said you could convince your godfather, Bruce Wayne, to allow the class to go to Wayne Enterprises for this year’s class trip.”

“She said she could convince Tony Hawk to give me an internship, too!” Alix chipped in.

“And that she’d bring me along the next time Prince Ali asks for her help for a charity cause!” Rose smiled.

“She said she’d introduce me to the CEO of Graham Films!” Nino’s eyes shone at the idea.

The class continued to talk all over one another until Marinette silenced them once more. “Now, now. Let’s not overwhelm Lila. We wouldn’t want her to be overworked or to feel like the expectations are set too high, right?”

The class agreed, nodding along.

Marinette made eye contact with Lila, offering her a sweet smile as she did so. Lila, on the other hand, had no taste for such politeness. Instead, she straight-out glared at the former class president.

This is your problem now.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Marinette! I was hoping to catch you before you went home,” Alya panted, having been able to find the bluenette in the locker room before the designer slipped out of her reach. “You... You’re really serious about leaving?”

“Yeah.” Smiled Marinette, organising her textbooks into her bag, dusting down her skirt. Noticing Alya’s crestfallen expression, she took the initiative to continue the conversation. “Is there anything else, Alya?”

“Did you... Did you really hate Lila because she liked Adrien, too?” The reporter asked somewhat timidly.

Marinette giggled. Normally, when the girl giggled, you could hear a gentle tinkling of wind chimes— But at that moment, Alya heard the freezing winds on Mount Everest instead. “Don’t be silly, Alya. All this over a boy? Besides, I’m over him.”

“Then...” Alya swallowed difficulty. “Lila... Really was lying this whole time?”

The gaze that swept across the reporter was stone cold, and it made Alya feel as if she was dangling over a valley of jagged rocks. “What do you think, Alya?” Even so, the bluenette maintained a sweet smile.

“She was. She was lying the whole time.” Alya suddenly felt as if she had a shortness of air. “This whole time—”

“Oh, good for you. You finally learned how to see further than one feet in front of you.” Marinette hummed. “I’m proud of you, really. But I’m afraid that I don’t have the time to listen to you slowly come to conclusions after I’ve tried making you see sense for the past half a year. I tried to stop you from ruining your futures, but I guess determination was always one of your good traits.”

Alya slipped to the floor, having lost the feeling in her legs. She placed one hand against the lockers for support as she shook, weakly looking up at the girl who she was once so proud to call her ‘best friend’.

“Marinette?” Kagami’s voice rang through the room, indicating that the girl was waiting at the doorway. “You said you were heading to Bourgeois’s hotel after school— Would you like a ride?”

“That’d be nice, Kagami. A moment.” The designer looked down at her friend and smiled, albeit a little sadly this time— And then she lowered her voice.

“Determination was always one of your good traits.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Marinette,” Adrien perked up at the sight of the bluenette leaving the school doors— Side by side with Kagami, who looked ready to draw a sword and start a duel then and there.

“This’ll just take a minute, ‘Gami.” Marinette reassured, gently patting her friend’s arm. “Why don’t you get in the car first? It looks like it’s going to rain.”

Reluctantly, Kagami nodded. “Alright.” Warily, the fencer stepped down the stairs and into the car— But even as she sat in the vehicle, she watched over her fellow bluenette like a hawk, ready to jump out and challenge the blonde if the situation called for it.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say. Luckily for him, the designer decided to start the conversation.

“I just wanted to say thank you.” Marinette smiled softly. A few months ago, when she looked at Adrien, she would see the kind, generous, pure-hearted boy with the finest golden hair and the brightest green eyes. Now? All she saw was a spineless, sheltered, passive child that was afraid of confrontations.

“For what?” Adrien looked at Marinette, and no longer did he see the cute, pigtail-adorning girl that would blush fiercely everytime he tried to talk to her. Instead, he saw a beautiful, young woman, a rock that had pulled through all the odds to become a vibrant, iridescent diamond.

Marinette was glowing with confidence, her presence diffusing into the air around her and triggering eyes to look up every time she walked by. There was something about the way she held herself that just made the woman demand awe and respect from those that crossed her path. The old ‘Clumsinette’ had been shed like an old snake skin to reveal a treasure, a better version of the bluenette that had always been waiting for her time to come.

Bluebell eyes met green ones just as rain began to patter down onto the streets of Paris. Marinette glanced up slightly, not at all bothered as she smoothly retrieved an umbrella from her bag, holding it out for the blonde to take. A flush of deja vu burst through Adrien’s veins and through his skin as he took it with a mumbled thanks, eyes blown wide as Marinette let loose her hair from her ponytail, pulling her blazer over her head to avoid getting her head wet.

Adrien could only gape as Marinette uttered familiar words back to him, a knowing smile dancing across her lips as she ran off into the rain as if an invisible weight had been lifted off her shoulders. The bluenette looked lighter, brighter, ready to take flight and soar towards the success that her crops of hard work had finally started to bear. Before the blonde model knew it, Marinette Dupain-Cheng had slipped out of his grip, already spreading her multi-coloured wings to land among the stars.

“Thank you for telling me to take the high road.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

this was both satisfying and tiring to write...

#ml salt #ml saltfic #saltfic #lila salt #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien salt #miraculous ladybug #alya salt #[ris writes]—✧

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arty-shadow-morningstar · 4 years ago

Text

Graveyard Siblings (4)

I am sorry for not posting in a while. School is a total bitch. Here is part 4 of a fic that is not a fic.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)(Part 2)(Part 3)

-------

Tall Marinette.(I admit I might be projecting a little here.)

One day, she took out something from someplace high and the whole family realized that ‘holy shit when did you get so tall?’

Bonus if Jason comes back from a long mission and had a wtf moment because she was wearing 6-inch-heels and met his eyes with them on.

“Pixie?!”

------

You know how Bruce has the identity of Matches Malone to infiltrate the Gotham Underground.

While Jason does the drug deals more street crime stuff, Maria uses an excuse of being the representative for Red Hood excuse to mingle with the rich people who does crime on the side (Penguin), she uses it to go to black market auctions and buy some of the lost miraculouses which got into the hands of black market dealers.

Jason knows about it and acts as her ‘bodyguard’ anytime he can or sends one of his henchmen to be one with a death threat if she gets a single scratch on her.

Bruce is unaware of this. Or is he?

------

Mari helps with running WE since she is a little less busy with the vigilante side of things.

It started with Tim panicking about deadlines and Mari offering to help, to Bruce and Tim bullying the board to have her as co-CEO.

She has to be that and head of Afterlife. So she is very busy. Doesn’t know about what comes next….

------

Somehow the class comes to Gotham for a trip. It has been 3 years since her death.

Mari has changed her appearance since the day she left Paris. She has highlights in her hair after a ‘sibling bonding day’ with Jason. Her hair is kept short for convenience and not in pigtails. Along with her tall height and more confident aura, she is almost unrecognizable.

She rides a motorcycle too.

The class waits in the lobby for the tour and in walks this badass woman with aviator sunglasses, leather jacket and designer clothes which was all MT brand, making a lot of people swoon.

She takes off her glasses and walks past the class. Checking stuff on her phone and sipping coffee in her other hand.

She seems familiar but they couldn’t figure out why. (All except Chloe, Alix and Felix who are snickering in the background.)

Lila sees her and comments on how she must be a criminal with the way she dresses. (Lila internally freaks out because were her eyes messing with her? Because she looked a little like Marinette. Also jealous of the new arrival for stealing all the attention.) Alya takes the bait and calls security to ‘arrest’ her.

They just laugh. The class doesn’t understand, speaking in confused French.

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

“I am Maria Todd-Wayne, also known as designer MT. CEO of Afterlife and co-CEO of the very company you are in. I am allowed in here. Don’t judge a book by its cover.” she said in perfect French.

“But Lila told us you can’t speak French.”

“Who?”

“Lila Rossi, your friend. She told us that you and MT were dating.”

“Me dating myself. Okay I love myself because self-love is a thing but that is a whole other level. MT are my initials. Anyone who has a brain could have figured that out or at the very least do a Google search. I am not sure where your friend got that notion.”

“Hey, Bean, come on. We have a long day ahead of us.” Tim reminded her.

“Goodbye but cease the rumours or you would be escorted off the premises.”

As they rode up the elevator, “Tim, why are they here?”

“They are the lucky winners of the Wayne Enterprise Young Prodigies Contest. Why, Maria?”

“Lucky, huh.” She muttered under her breath. She might as well tell him. They are the Bats and they will find out anyway. “They are from my old class, the one you know…”

“Oh. Want me to send them back? I can do that if they are making you uncomfortable.”

“Nah. Too much to deal with. And it is unfair to send them back over a petty grudge. Besides, I could have some fun.”

“Anything that Bruce and I should be worried about?”

“I swear no killing. Just because Jason came back from the dead, hell-bent on killing. Doesn’t mean I am too.”

“Cool, just don’t do any property damage or traumatize our employees.”

“I might need you to erase some footage later and tell Bruce about this.”

“Some brownies, my favourite coffee cake, the ‘special’ brew and you have yourself a deal.”

-----

So basically she just showed up around where the class was ‘by coincidence’.

Talk to a few people and take them out of earshot of the rest of the class.

End the conversation by saying a few things only they and her would know. Insides jokes and secrets. (I pick her old childhood friends like, Nino, Kim and maybe Sabrina)

Uses Trixx to turn into a walking dead version of her 15-year old self and disappears as they freak out about how she knew that secret/story.

Freaks them out further by appearing again in front of the whole class and pretending not to know their previous conversation.

Mari manages to get Lila alone.

I should also say that Lila thought that her curse was making her see MT as Marinette.

It terrifies Lila when she finds out that MT is actually Marinette, not dead but alive after all this time and apparently living the high life she wanted. This fact made the Italian swell up with jealousy.

“I hope you are not lying about me again, Lila Rossi. Like you always do.”

“What do you want with me? I swear I didn’t say anything else about you.”

“Aw, Lila. Don’t recognize me?”

Maria flickers and Ladybug is in her place and later, the Marinette that appeared in her bedroom and back to normal.

“You! How? Why are you here? Why can’t you leave me alone?”

“Why not? I mean you did take away nearly all my friends, my parents and made my life a living hell. If you think about it, I am just repaying you the same favor. How are the others? Treating you well?”

“What did you do to me, you bitch?”

“I just put a curse on you. The ghosts of your past will haunt you until you stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop Lying, Liar. They all feed and grow in power from your lies. I wonder what would happen in a few years if you kept this up.”

“You think you can get away with this. This is war and I have already beaten you once.”

“Oh Rossi. This isn’t a war. It’s a death sentence.” With that she disappears.

Lila tries to tell her class that MT is actually Marinette. She is met with crazy looks. Some of them look like they want to believe her but don't because they don’t want to look crazy too.

Oh. Adrien wasn’t on the trip because his mother didn’t want him to go to the crime capital of America although the crime rate has gone down a little due to Hellbat curing some of the city’s bad energy..

Right after Lila told the class about MT, Scarecrow came to steal some Wayne tech and the class got caught in the crossfire. So later, it was brushed off as Lila seeing things due to the fear toxins.

-----

Joker made the mistake of kidnapping her. Once was enough to never try that again.

(It involved the use of nearly all of the Miraculouses, old and new. He was thoroughly humiliated at the end of it and his picture by the time Hellbat was done with him was on the Batfam’s Christmas Card. Like I said she doesn’t kill but making them beg for death was okay.)

It coincided with Jason’s Birthday and the video of the incident was ‘the best birthday present ever.’ The uncensored version was watched at the next undead siblings bonding day. Damian included.

After hearing a few rumours about what happened, most criminals were glad for Hellbat’s rare appearances. (which happens once a month and during really busy time of the year)

There was a time where Penguin was carrying out one of their plans and when Hellbat showed up, all of their thugs surrendered instantly. (No Batman did not pout at the fact that this French girl was more imitating than him.)

Scarecrow used his newest batch of fear toxin on her during the first year after she died.

He was astounded to see her still standing and she later proceeded to beat the crap out of him while being under the toxin’s influences.

He has tried to stay out of her way since then.

She saw Scarecrow as Hawkmoth and said a lot of things in French which scared everyone because she said it with so much hate, anger and in a very menacing tone that everyone is like ‘I am not touching this.’

It took Red Hood and Nightwing to restrain her from further beating Scarecrow up.

He was one of the people who sympathised with the Joker after the Incident.

The next was Riddler being so arrogant in his plans and managed to get Hellbat and Spoiler into a death trap.

“You know I have a few regrets in life. And my final one is that I got captured and am now going to get killed by a walking fashion disaster.”

“Hey! I made this myself. I will have, you know.”

“You have a brilliant mind but no sense of fashion at all. When I get out of here, I am going to burn that thing with you in it, for your crimes against fashion.”

“What is wrong with it?”

Cue a lot of roasting of Riddler’s costume and Spoiler adding more fuel to the fire.

They manage to escape while Riddler is crying on the floor, having an existential crisis.

The thing was no one knows why Riddler was silent the entire week after encountering Hellbat and crying when anyone mentions it.

They now think Hellbat is the scariest one in the Batfamily, second to Batman and tied with Black Bat/Orphan.

The few who find out what really happened in the warehouse that night. Blackmail material on the Riddler.

Three ( four if you count Penguin) of Gotham’s biggest villains of the Rogues Gallery scared of Bats’ newest addition. Hellbat was not someone they wanted to mess with.

---------

Magic crisis stuff. Like a world ending event thing. Dr. Fate says they need the Miraculous jewels but the last mention of them had been in Paris a few years ago and had vanished since then.

Costantine looked at Batman. “You know who you have to call.”

Batman calls Hellbat. Who hasn’t been introduced yet to the JL.

“Ah. Bats. Not that I question your authority or anything but how can your newest ‘ward’ help us?”

She takes off her helmet and reveals her face and more importantly, her earrings.

Tikki comes out of her hiding place.

“I am the current Guardian of the Miracle Box and wielder of the Ladybug miraculous during Hawkmoth’s reign in Paris a few years ago. Any other Questions?”

“Oh great Guardian. Tikki. It is an honour to meet you.”-Wonder Woman, who else.

“You too, Princess Diana. Pass on my regards to your mother.”-Tikki

A huge face-off and the big evil is defeated.

WW asks abt HM and gives a horrified face at the end of her story. Nearly everyone who eavesdropped on the conversation was.

"Forgive me, Guardian for not aiding you in your hour of need.”

“It’s okay. I understand that there are other crises, world-ending ones that JL have to take care of. I am better now. Mostly.”

“I doubt it with those revenge schemes I found lying around. But she is getting there with her therapist.”-Batman

“I hate you, Dad.”

“Did you just call him Dad?”

“No….”

“Do you see me as a father figure?”

“I see you as a nuisance with how nosy you are with my personal business. So you are more of a bother figure.”

“I see you as part of the family too, Daughter.” (Got that reference anyone?)

“Jason was the one who adopted me.”

“Legally you are adopted by me.”

Maria with Pikachu surprised face because nobody told her that. “My life is a lie.”

-------

(Part 5)

#graveyard sibling #platonic jasonette #maribat #mlb x dc #platonic daminette #platonic timinette #some class salt #lila salt #lila bashing #joker doesn't look good here either #platonic! jasonette #siblings jasonette #platonic timminette #marinette and stephanie teaming up to rip into Riddler's costume

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letarasstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Normal People don't know their IQ

(A/N): Inspired by me, who recently discovered normal people don’t know their IQ, while I was tested two or three times already...

Summary: A certain someone is the only way to get the UnSub. But there’s also something different that makes her special.

Warnings: Angst (fluffy end, I swear), language, mentions of rape and torture, mention of dead people, the usual CM stuff I guess Wordcount: 2.0k

✨Masterlist✨ _________________________________________

“Garcia, I need you to look into high school teachers, who are suspended or fired for inappropriate behavior towards students and live in the area of the kidnappings”, Hotch orders in a stern voice. But you can’t blame him, after all there are currently six dead teenage girls and one missing. One can only hope and work as fast as possible to get her back to her parents alive.

The team is working a case in Sacramento, California. Teenage girls get abducted on their way home from school, are held for exactly a week and are killed by a simple cut to their throat. The torture they have to endure beforehand isn’t as simple. The last two also show signs of rape.

The dumbing sites are different parks all over the city. The placing happens overnight only to have the girls found the next morning by a clueless jogger or stroller.

“Let’s go over the profile again, I feel like we are missing something”, Rossi commands. His gut feeling tells him only that much, he just has to find out what it is.

“It’s a white male in his mid thirties to late forties. He blends in, so he has to be or has been a teacher. Someone who looks like they belong into a school isn’t suspicious”, Spencer counts the facts.

“The victims all look similar, probably resembling an ex-wife or girlfriend”, Morgan adds. Before he can get into the depth of the torture a phone rings.

“My lovely crime fighters, I got an address. Charles Collins. philosophy and history. Got suspended for suggestive talk towards his female students. He is also said to stare at them and certain body parts for way too long and way too obvious. Gross. Annnd that- wait”

“What is it, Garcia?” Hotch asks after a moment of silence, which is unusual for the ever bubbly tech analyst.

“You got your profile wrong. Collins doesn’t take these girls because of an ex flame.”

The team looks at each other in confusion. Garcia always stresses how she isn’t a profiler and can’t judge over people, because she only wants to see the good in them. How is she able to tell that the profile is off?

“Shoot baby girl, we don’t have much time left”, Derek urges her. He wants nothing more than to have this SOB finally behind bars. The whole team wants that.

“He has a daughter. Technically it’s not his daughter, it’s someone else’s, but he is her foster father. Go and please save both girls!”

Penelope doesn’t have to say it twice. After a brief thank you and goodbye the team is on their way to the given address. As soons as they get there, everyone notices the absence of a car in the driveway. Hotch sends Spencer, Emily and Derek through the back door, the rest goes in from the front.

“FBI! OPEN UP!”

It’s needless to say that nobody opens up. There is no other way than kicking the doors down.

After entering the house and clearing the first floor, Rossi points towards the stairs that leads to the first story. There are only two rooms. A bathroom right hand and a closed door left hand.

Morgan counts quietly down before also kicking this door down and screaming “FBI!” But he seemingly talks with air, because there is no one to be found. Once again the team swarms out to look for evidence or clues.

As Spencer looks through the room they cleared last, he sees various things that make him smile. Several bookshelves are flooded with all kinds of genres, authors and covers. At first he can’t make out in which way they are sorted. But a closer look makes him realize that they are sorted by the author’s birth year. The doctor is kind of impressed, because that means the person knows when they are born in order to find a certain book. He likes the idea, it is a nice little challenge.

While he investigates further a sound makes him stop. He sends a text to Emily and waits for her. When she enters the room Spencer gestures to her to keep it quiet. Then he points to the bed.

They lower themselves down to the floor at the same time on each side of it. A girl, no older than 14 years, lays there shivering in angst. With big doe eyes she looks at Spencer and whispers:

“Please don’t hurt me.”

A while later the team is back at the station with the girl sitting in one of the interrogation rooms. The temperature is already set down, though Hotch feels really bad for it. Still there is another girl out there waiting to be safed.

“Baby girl, what can you give us on her?” Morgan sets his phone in the middle of the table and switches the speaker on.

“Our little girl’s name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), fourteen years old. Parents were deemed to be unable to look after her since they are both heavy drug addicts and didn’t even register her crying for two hours straight. Since the age of six months she bounces through the system with nobody wanting to keep her longer than two years. They claim she is too smart for them and want somebody to look after her, who can challenge her intellectually.

“Collins took her in one and a half years ago. He got her signed up in several activities after school, like chess and academic decathlon. As of right now she is a junior with an opportunity to graduate next year. Her teachers describe her as incredibly bright with a complicated way of thinking.”

“Complicated way of thinking? Her intelligence was neglected for years, so she gave herself her own challenges. I found her books sorted by the birth year of the authors. She found ways of making things more difficult for herself, that’s why she fabricated strange ways of thinking. This is often found in children with high intelligence, who are not boosted enough by their environment”, Spencer explains, getting more and more furious.

His colleagues feel that this is a sensitive subject for their resident genius. JJ comfortably puts a hand on his shoulder, making the tense go away.

“Emily and Dave, I want both of you to interrogate her. We need to know where he hides the girls. JJ, try to hold the press off for a bit longer. Morgan, Reid, I want you to watch and look for tells or anything else”, Aaron orders.

Everyone works on their given task immediately.

You don’t need to be a profiler to see that (Y/N) is scared out of her mind. She has her feet on her chair and her head lies on her knees. When the two agents enter, she tries to at least fake some kind of composer. But she fails miserably at it.

“Hello (Y/N), may I call you that?” Emily begins in a soft voice. The teenager nods shyly. “Good, (Y/N). My name is Emily Prentiss and this is David Rossi. We are agents from the Behavior Analysis Unit from the FBI. Do you know why you are here?” The teenager shakes her head.

“Ok, let’s cut the chase”, David's voice booms through the small room. “You know exactly why you are here. From what we saw in your room you are an incredibly smart girl. How high is your IQ? 130? 135?”

“147 a-actually”, she nervously corrects the agent, never meeting his eye. The team notices this fairly quickly.

“Even better, normal people don’t know their IQ. So you know what your forster father does. You saw the news, you read the papers, you heard your classmates talk. In addition to that, the girls look alarmingly similar to you. And all of the sudden Charles is more often out than usual. So do us a favor and come clear.” Then he pulls out a picture from a manila folder on the table. Emily tries to intervene.

“Rossi, don’t. She is not the UnSub. (Y/N) is just unfortunate to be at the wrong place.” “She might as well be another UnSub if she doesn’t do anything to help us. Do you know how long you are going to jail for helping hi-”

“I don’t know anything. I- of course I saw what is h-happening. A-and I connected the dots a long time a-ago. You know, Charles lost his job and that’s a stressor. T-then Child Service was investigating him, because of the suspension’s reasons. I-I couldn’t do anything. I had no evidence, the police wouldn’t believe me. I asked him once wh-what he thinks about, you know, what’s happening. He slapped me and told me to not talk about it again. I’m so sorry, I wanna help. The only thing that comes into my mind is an old cabin he once mentioned when I first arrived at his. B-but I don’t know if it helps you. P-please, I don’t want to go to jail or juvenile, I-” Then (Y/N) breaks down into tears.

Emily is in an instant by her side trying to calm her down, while Hotch gives the information to Garcia. As soon as she finds the location, JJ takes a seat next to (Y/N) and the rest of the team flies out.

“You don’t have to be scared of him anymore, Sweetheart. My colleagues will find him and he will be tried and convicted. He will never be a threat to you again”, the blonde tries to comfort her.

“Whenever I leave an abusive home, there will be another one that’s exactly the same. The only difference with Charles was that he seemed to understand me. He helped me. There’s nobody who is willing to do what he did for me”, she admits sadly.

It breaks JJ’s heart, because her words are true. Even though he is a killer, Collins did help her. But she is also determined to show the young girl that he isn’t the only one who can do that. That there are more people out there, who are kind and as helpful if not more.

Not long after this the team brings the man into the station, Morgan guiding him with a deadbolt-like grip.

Rossi spots (Y/N) in a break room with a hot drink in her hands. While making his way over there, Spencer follows him. He wants to talk with her as well.

“(Y/N) I’m sincerely sorry if I hurt you earlier. I didn’t intend to scare you, we just had to act quickly and you were the only source of information available. I also wanted to tell you, that your achievements are astonishing and I guarantee you a bright future, maybe even at the FBI”, he winks at the end of his last sentence.

“I understand, Agent Rossi. But doesn’t everybody know their IQ? I assumed everybody gets at least tested once in their life in some way”, she asks with surprise in her voice.

At that the older man is speechless. Of all things she could accuse him of legitimately, (Y/N) goes with the most innocent question.

“Actually, not everybody gets tested. A reliable test has to be done by a psychologist and most people don’t go to one. Furthermore there has to be a valid reason to do one, that’s why a great part of the population doesn’t know their IQ”, intervenes Spencer. He has to infodump, since the last time was over half an hour ago.

“But you also have to differentiate between the several kinds of intelligence, because intelligence is way more than being good at math. There…”

Rossi stopped listening to the excited interaction between the two geniuses. Instead he watches their body languages and facial expressions. He hasn’t seen both of them more at calm than they are now.

After all there might be a way for (Y/N) to get a little Happy End.

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jadegreenimmortality · 4 years ago

Text

Bungou Stray Dogs Men as Househusbands pt.1 - Sakunosuke Oda

A/N: I’m sorry that this isn‘t a request, but this brain rot has been going on since forever and now I can’t resist it anymore. I totally blame @hanazou for this. There will also be a part two featuring Chuuya, but his part has a completely different feeling to it, that's why I'll post these separately. Besides of that, this is basically an “Way of the Househusband!AU”. Go watch the show or read the manga if you don’t know it, it’s absolutely hilarious! This is mainly focused on them as househusbands, but since you are their spouse, there’s also a bit of reader insert. Also, a lot of Oda as a dad to his orphans. And the whole thing is feat. Dazai. (^^)

Pairings: Oda x gn!reader

Genre: Crack, domestic fluff

Warnings: none

Summary: You, Oda and the orphans move in together. While you become the working spouse, your loving husband stays at home and becomes a full-time househusband.

pt. 2

First things first - If you agree to marrying Sakunosuke Oda, you are also agreeing to become the parent of five children. Oda loves you and you are one of two main reasons he’s leaving the Mafia, the other being his life purpose. But if he’s leaving the Mafia, he’s keeping those kids in (if they want him to of course, but you can’t tell me they don’t, come on -)

So yeah, be ready.

He only cooks spicy curry at the beginning. The curry shop owner gave him the exact recipe of his favourite plate as a goodbye gift and that’s the only thing he is cooking for days on end. He has some basic cooking skills, but this is the only really elaborated dish he knows how to prepare as of now, so be ready to suffer from the spice. It will go on like that until all six of you you and the kids hold an intervention for him. The kids will paint nice banners like they were going to a demonstration saying "No more curry" that they hang up in the living room and he’ll be greeted by your sorrowful face when he comes back from buying groceries.

“What’s this?” – “Oh honey, I’m so sorry, its just…” – “WE CAN’T TAKE THE SPICE ANYMORE STOP COOKING CURRY ALREADY!” – “…I mean…yeah.”

Of course, he’ll be a bit embarrassed and disappointed. May scratch his neck and look to the side thoughtfully. But he’ll take your plead seriously.

This is also how you bond with the kids for the first time. Congratulations, huddling up against someone is always the best way to bond!

He works hard on his cooking skills after that and becomes quite the formidable cook. He takes suggestions from you and the kids and will try to learn how to cook anything you might fancy to eat. It’s really important to him that all of you are happy and cooking may be the most important job of a house spouse, so he takes it very seriously.

There will be curry Tuesday though. One day of spice hell. Enjoy.

Please picture Oda in his usual attire, wearing a beige “kiss the cook” apron over it and bunny slippers. You’re welcome.

He'll learn how to make anime and cartoon-themed bentos for the kids, so it's highly probable you'll get cutely designed bentos as well. Again, you may drop suggestions, he’ll absolutely take them into considerations. Octopus sausages, bunny apple slices, cute bear faces made out of rice, he’ll learn to do them all. He isn’t too sappy of a person, but if he’s feeling romantic while cooking, your rice could also have the shape of a heart. Either way, your co-workers will be very envious of your food and your husband.

Oda iss the master of negotiation at the food market. He’ll be completely stoic all the time, not aggressive or dismissive at all, but he’ll point out little flaws of the products in a way that most shop owner’s won’t be able to deny and that’s how he gets discounts. He doesn’t want to cheat anyone out of their money, but he does have seven mouths to feed.

He may not look like it, but if any of the kids tag along for his grocery shopping, it's really hard for him to deny them something if they beg for it. He may seem unnervingly calm all the time, but he’s a big softie, especially for those kids and for you, and if they hang at his sleeves long enough, they’ll get that ice-cream they want so badly. That doesn’t work on pricier items though, he can be a strict parent when really needed.

Oda is great at handling the finances. He’s well aware that he has to be thrifty with five kids. Still, there is one thing where he struggles to keep his control: books.

If you agree to it, the apartment will have an absolutely minimalistic interior, but! In your living room, there will be a shelf full of books, so big it covers a whole wall. That’s it, that’s Oda’s only weak spot when spending money.

It’s not only books for him though. He buys books for you when he sees something from your favourite author or genre. He buys books for the kids so they learn the joy of literature. Poems, bed time stories he wants them to grow up appreciating the possibilities of the written word.

You can bet that he’ll read them bed time stories. Only one book for all five of them though, so one kid gets to choose a story each day.

He’ll read to you as well if you want him to. His voice is incredibly calm and soothing, he’s a really good reader. There’s a high probability you’ll fall asleep while he reads to you. You can cuddle up in bed and rest your head on his shoulder or sit on his lap and hide your face in the crook of his neck, feeling the vibration of his voice in his chest.

Whenever he has some time to spare, he’ll retire to your shared bedroom to write. Mind you, that won’t happen often. It happens mainly on weekends, when the kids are with friends and/or you are at home. If you want to do him a favour, consider cooking on the weekends, he’ll be more than thankful for the opportunity to submerge in his beloved writing. But don’t worry, it won’t consume him – he’ll always put some time aside to spent with you, without the kids, as well ¬‿¬.

He's so polite with the neighbours. Will pay all his neighbours a short visit together with the kids to introduce himself and bring little gifts. Just imagine him standing there in the door frame, witih all five kids around his legs, smiling at their new neighbours angelically - what's not to love?

He really wants to maintain a good relationship to all of them. Basically, he’s the perfect neighbour – always polite, always up to a little chat, always ready to listen to neighbour A complain over neighbour B without snitching. He’s mainly concerned for the wellbeing the kids though. He wants them to feel part of the community and often arranges play dates with the neighbour kids. If it's possible at the neighbour’s house because five kids are a lot to handle already…and when they are all out of the apartment, it’s cleaning time.

Oda is an angel of patience and the ultimate multitasker. He isn’t left with much of a choice with five kids, but thankfully, calm lies in his nature. You may see him explaining Sakura her math homework while cutting vegetables for today’s lunch. Then, he’ll take a quick glance out of the window to see if they boys are still playing on the street where he can see them and then he’ll check on Sakura again. Isn’t he lovely?

His ability is unexpectedly helpful for all of this. If he’s in the living room to clean, his ability will alarm him if the food’s about to burn. If he’s around the kids, he’ll know in time if one is about to trip. If you come home from work so tired you fall asleep face first in your soup, he’ll be able to catch you. So useful.

He’s a very attentive and loving husband. His love is mainly expressed by keeping the house as clean as he can and putting a lot of effort into cooking. Your work is hard enough, he takes it upon himself to manage everything else. He’ll also try to have the kids well-behaved so they don’t demand too much from you after you come home from work. Though if you decide to pull yourself together and give them attention and love even when tired, he’ll be more than thankful. He knows it’s a lot to ask to be a parent, especially to not one, but FIVE kids that are not yours by blood. So if you actively seek to have a close bond to them, it will make him so incredibly happy because he knows it’s not the natural course of action for everyone.

Will give you head, shoulder and foot massages after an especially excruciating day of work. His hands are skillful and he knows where to touch to make you moan to release the tension from your muscles.

Likes to lie his head in your lap after both of you had a long day of work. Yes, you may be the provider, but keeping a house clean and five kids under control isn’t an easy job either! So, he’ll seek peace laying his head on your thighs and closing his eyes while you tussle his hair and tell him about your day. Don’t expect more than a mumbled “Mm” or “I see” from time to time, but be sure that he’s listening.

And the Port Mafia? You’re in luck - since he was the lowest-ranking member, The Mafia, by which I mean Mori isn’t bothered that he left. He refused to kill anyways, he’s to no use to them him.

Of course, Oda will try to be absolutely sure there is no hidden reason for Mori to hinder his leave beforehand, or to resent him for it. The last thing he wants is to endanger you or the kids by leaving his job as a criminal.

If he ever meets a member of the PM in public, he'll act as if he doesn't know them. He may give them a polite nod if they make eye contact, but that’s about it. It’s not that he resents them, but he really wants to start a new life here that isn’t connected to killing and cruelty at all. If they approach him he'll be very polite, but try to keep the conversation short, even if they seem to have no ulterior motive.

Of course, there’s one member of the Port Mafia that marks the exception, by which I mean to say that you’ll have Osamu Dazai over for tea regularly. No, he won’t announce himself at all. The first time he appears at your apartment, you’re just finishing to unpack. He’ll tand at your doorstep all of a sudden to tell Oda that Mori already knows where he moved to. Oda will just nod as an acknowledgement. He expected as much. And then he’ll give you a questioning look. If you nod, he’ll officially asking his friend to stay for dinner. You’ll be having curry.

From then on, he’ll just drop by whenever. You may come back home from time to time to find dinner ready, the kids in bed and your husband and Dazai drinking. If you join them, you will have some truly joyful evenings spend together. You’re Oda’s chosen one, so Dazai is a bit more inclined to let you get close than he is with others. You may make a new friend in the process.

It doesn’t take a lot of time for the kids to start calling him Uncle Dazai. He’ll actually be Uncle Dazai before they ever call Oda Dad or you Mom/Dad. It will take them mere weeks to call him uncle, but months, maybe years to call the two of you Dad/Mom. It will happen eventually though, and the day it happens, I assure you that you will see Oda spill tears of happiness. He’ll be looking away, wiping his face with one hand and smiling. He never thought he would want this, but now he knows he does.

Back to Dazai! He’s reserved with the kids at first. As we know, he doesn’t feel all to comfortable around “childish behaviour”. But kids are like cats, the feel drawn to the one that’s most cautious. By which I mean to say that they are all over him. Literally. Oda will leave for five minutes and when he’s back at the living room the kids will have tackled a slightly unnerved Dazai on the floor. Sakura wants him to see the drawings she made, Katsumi, Kousuke and Yuu want to play, Shinji wants to ask him what's under his bandages. He’ll have no choice but to oblige and it goes surprisingly well. Oda may abuse him as a baby-sitter when he visits from then on.

Then suddenly, Dazai stops visiting altogether. You are worried, but Oda, for some reason, isn’t. Even more, whenever you ask him about it, you may catch him smiling to himself in a satisfied, proud way. No, Dazai didn’t tell him anything. If Oda would know, it would endanger all of you. But he knows. He knows that Dazai finally made his choice to leave the Port Mafia and needs to lay low now. And that’s okay.

It takes Dazai two years to come back, which will be just as sudden as him leaving. You’ll be astounded to see him a changed man at first sight. Oda will scold him for not sending any notice and then everything is normal again. And after some more years, he’ll start bringing along a scrawny kid with white hair.

A/N: Wow, this is the first post I put a "keep reading" link in because it's so long! That's kind of a milestone for me. ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this! Thank you for reading!

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