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lunar-jimin · 5 years ago

Text

life goes on, it gets so heavy; the wheel breaks the butterfly

Pairing: Jungkook x fem!reading

Rating: 18+

Genre: smut, angst, fluffy ending, ceo!jungkook, secretary!reader

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: cheating, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, using pulling out as a protective method (don’t do this kids), dom!jungkook, sub!reader, cumming in pants, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, daddy kink, degradation, lovey-dovey sex, impreg kink

Summary: Despite being the golden heir of a wealthy empire, Jungkook is incredibly unhappy with life he’s been handed. When you show up in his office one morning, you change his life in the way he least expected, but in the way he needed the most.

a/n: This is an anonymous commission for my BLM fundraiser!! If you would like to request something yourself, you can find the link to my official post here! I would also like to thank the lovely @nightowls388 for beta reading!!

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The air was too hot. Uncomfortable. Sticky. Jungkook loosened the tie around his neck in a desperate attempt to free himself from the confines of his suit. He hated August. It was always too warm, too sunny. He preferred the dark winter days where the snow silenced the universal white noise. Black suits weren’t as suffocating on forty degree days.

He glanced out the window of the Rolls Royce, taking in the pedestrians struggling not to melt in the intense gaze of the sun. He sympathized with their struggle. Even the blast of freezing draft from the air conditioner did little to spare him from the heat. He enjoyed watching people. He was fascinated by the little idiosyncrasies that formed them into unique individuals, each essential to making the world work. Besides, everyone’s life seemed more interesting to him than his own.

There was a point in his life when he was content with the plan his parents had laid out for him before he was in diapers. He looked forward to one day taking over his father’s company, marrying a nice girl, and starting a family. It was a simple plan and one that gained the approval of the adults in his life: something he was constantly vying for as an adolescent. It was what he was raised with. When he went to college, everything changed. For the first time in his existence, he wasn’t being inundated with his parent’s doctrine and found that there was more to life than running Fortune 500 companies. His parents were less than pleased to discover that he had accompanied his business major with a minor in photography.

But despite the longing that had bloomed in him for something more intriguing than sterile offices and mundane board meetings, he still found himself back home where his parents once again instilled in him the desire to be the golden heir. A year after his return as the prodigal son, his parents set him with the woman who was now his wife. Three years after that, his father decided that he would rather spend his days on the golfing green rather than in sky-high conference rooms, so he handed off the company to Jungkook. Ever since Jungkook had been locked inside stuffy black suits and boring ties. And he absolutely hated it.

He squirmed in his seat, his desire to escape increasing with each second he was locked in the back of the car. God, why was it so hot? He felt like crying- a feeling that had become increasingly common during the past six months. His brain felt like a bubbling volcano waiting patiently to explode. Sometimes, Jungkook imagined what would happen when it did. He would divorce his wife, leave his job, and move to some island in the Caribbean where he would spend the rest of his days taking pictures. It was a nice dream, but it was only that, a dream.

He shook his head, trying to contain his runaway emotions. As the car came to a halt in front of the office building, Jungkook tightened his tie and grabbed his briefcase before exiting out into the scalding heat. If inside the car was bad, outside was absolute hell. It was so hot, Jungkook swore he was on fire. He frowned, rushing into the safety of the air-conditioned skyscraper in front of him before he broke out in a sweat.

He sighed in relief the second he made it through the rotating doors. He had never been so grateful for the large air conditioning bill in all his life. His relief was so immense that it took a full minute to realize something was wrong. Normally, the second he walked through the door, his secretary greeted him with an iced coffee and a pastry, but as he looked around, his secretary was nowhere to be found. Yet another sigh escaped his mouth as he stepped into the elevator. Why of all days did today have to be the day his secretary magically disappeared? He shook his head.

He noticed her the minute he arrived at his office floor. She was bent over a box, all her attention focused on searching for whatever object was eluding her. It took her a moment to notice his presence, but when she did, she bolted upright before scurrying in front of the desk, hands behind her back. Jungkook looked her up and down, transfixed by the beautiful stranger.

“Can I help you?”

His voice came out harsher than he meant it to and he cringed when you tried to disguise a wince.

“Um, yes, I’m your new secretary, Mr. Jeon.”

His brows furrowed.

“New secretary? What happened to the old one? He was perfectly fine.”

He didn’t remember any emails about his secretary leaving, although to be fair, he hadn’t been paying attention to much these days. He might physically be at work, but more often than not, his mind had drifted to far off places. Mostly island paradises.

“He moved away.”

“Ah,” he gave you a once over, “and what is your name, new secretary?”

You answered him. He nodded as if you had given him the right answer on a quiz.

“And I don’t suppose anyone has told you how things work around here.”

“No sir.”

His hands clenched at the name, a picture of you on your knees before him (with much less clothing) popped into his head. He shook it off, trying to stay the least bit professional. He had a wife for god’s sake.

“I see. Well, for future reference, I expect you to meet me each day in the lobby with an iced americano and a pastry,” he paused when he realized how demanding he sounded before softly adding, “No cherries though, I hate cherries.”

You nodded, grabbing a sticky note and jotting down his instructions.

“For now, just get settled in. Do you happen to know if I have any meetings today?”

You nodded again, “You have a lunch meeting with the Samsung marketing director at one, sir.”

There it was again. That damn formality. It was really going to get the better of him.

“You will accompany me. I expect you to take notes, but don’t contribute to the conversation. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Jungkook nodded before making a beeline to his office before he got a boner. He let out a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind him. His heart pounded in his chest and despite his desperate attempts, he’s chubbed up a bit in his pants.

He didn’t want to admit that it’s because you might be the most attractive woman he has ever seen. He didn’t want to admit that he hasn’t been this turned on in months. Instead, he passed it off on the fact that he hadn’t had sex with his wife in three months which left behind quite a bit of built-up tension.

The hours ticked by and Jungkook attempted to bury himself with the neverending stack of paperwork. He remembered there was a time when he loved to show off his signature (there was a reason fifteen-year-old him never had a girlfriend), but now he wanted to chop off his hands so that he could never sign a contract again. He was thankful when the clock struck eleven, releasing him from his office, even if it meant being stuck talking shop for an hour while eating expensive but flavorless food.

He stepped out to find you arranging photos on the wall beside your desk. You glanced up when you heard the door open and flashed him a blinding smile.

“Ready, sir?”

He nodded. The title was really going to be a problem.

The meeting was the beginning of Jungkook’s personal purgatory. Every day you would greet him with a smile and the best pastries he had ever tasted. (He was surprised when you admitted to him that you had baked them yourself. If you weren't proving to be an amazing secretary, he would suggest that you open a bakery, but he’s selfish.) You were a good listener and caught onto his routines without a struggle. But every day you would show up dressed as pure temptation. It wasn’t even that your outfits were scandalous, just simple pencil skirts and pastel blouses, but you made them look like sin incarnate. It didn’t help that every night he went home to his wife who he barely noticed existed anymore.

There had been a point when he and his wife were, er, passionate. For the first couple of years, Jungkook even managed to convince himself that he was in love with her. But a couple of months ago, weekly dinners turned into once a month before they disappeared altogether. To make the situation worse, his mother was starting to complain about her lack of children, but he didn’t know how to break it to her that he couldn’t remember the last time he had kissed his wife, much less had sex with her. There were no bitter feelings or resentment, just indifference. He had briefly considered couples therapy before deciding against it. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to attempt to salvage the crumbs of his marriage.

You had only added fuel to the fire. Jungkook found himself just as infatuated with your mind as he was with your body. Not only did you laugh at his dumb jokes and listen to his whining, but you had witty contributions and easily found out-of-the-box solutions. He swore this quarter’s numbers would be higher just from you alone. And you flirted. He wasn’t sure at first, incredibly hesitant to respond in fear of a scandalous HR report. But when he caught your gaze on him when you thought he wasn’t looking one too many times, he realized there was a good chance that you liked him just as much as he liked you.

Between you, his wife, and his desperate need to escape this world of offices, limos, and quid pro quo, his life was unraveling right in front of him. Still, he tried to hold onto all the pieces before they landed in a disappointed heap in his lap. He wasn’t quite ready to let it all go to shit. He definitely was not ready to meet his parents’ disapproving faces when he lost everything they had worked so hard to ensure he had.

Two months after you began working, he found himself at an overcrowded party praying he was anywhere but there. Sadly, being a CEO meant that he wasn’t allowed to drink away his woes, lest he make a fool of himself in front of all the investors. Instead, he was forced to stay exhaustingly sober as he watched everyone around him devolve into debauchery. He found his wife pleasantly drunk near the bar talking to one of her friends whose face he recognized but couldn’t remember her name for the life of him.

“Having fun darling?”

He grinned, trying to play the role of loving husband. A role that had become increasingly difficult to mimic.

“It’s your birthday party, I should be asking you. Have you even had a drink? Probably not,” she turned back to her friend, “He never drinks at these things, something about keeping up appearances. I think it’s dumb. It’s his own birthday for fuck’s sake.”

He rolled his eyes. There she went again, putting him down. It wasn’t the first time she had commented on his festive sobriety. She wasn’t a fan. Maybe it was because he only fucked her after he drank. Still, he conceded to her teasing, figuring one drink wouldn’t hurt. He waved down a bartender.

“A whiskey on the rocks, please,” he turned back to his wife, “satisfied?”

She grinned at him before resuming ignoring him in favor of whatever fascinating conversation her friend was providing. He sighed before grabbing his drink and making his way out to the balcony. The air inside the penthouse was stuffy and he was beginning to feel claustrophobic. He was surprised to find you already out there, nursing your own drink in your hand. It wasn't unusual for people from the office to be at his personal parties. His father had taught him a long time ago that inviting your employees into your personal life was key to inspiring loyalty. It made them feel like they knew you and that they were important to you. But seeing as you were a relatively new addition, he had never seen you outside of the office and if you were sexy in skirts and blouses, the dress you had on should be illegal. He gulped before leaning next to you on the rail.

"Parties not your thing?"

You jumped, spilling a bit of your drink onto the dark street below.

"Um, no, parties are fine. Rich people parties are just a whole new animal."

He chuckled.

"That's fair I suppose. Even I get sick of those fuckers. They do realize that they aren’t at the office anymore right? No need to brag about how well your stock is doing"

You smiled at him before looking back out at the city skyline. Despite having grown up with views like this, Jungkook still found it breathtaking. Almost as breathtaking as he found you. He took a sip of his drink, trying to drown his thoughts in alcohol. When he looked at you again, he felt his stomach churn. You were so beautiful that he wasn't sure what to do with himself. A sigh escaped him. You broke out of your trance and turned to look at him.

"Something wrong?"

"No. Not really."

You raised your eyebrow.

"I just- I know this sounds stupid and pretentious- but I really just don't want to do this anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"This job. This lifestyle. This life. I was raised to be the perfect CEO with the perfect family, a copy of my father really, but that's not what I want. All my family has ever seen me as is the golden heir and honestly, I don’t know if I can be that anymore."

"Who do you want to be?"

"I don't know. A photographer I guess. And marry somebody I actually choose to fall in love with. And live away from the stress of trying to please every person in my life at the cost of my own happiness."

"You don't love your wife?"

"No, I do. Kinda. I just... My parents picked her out and at some point, I was smitten with her, but we're so different and she wants success and money and, well, I don't care about that as much. She’s not a bad person, she’s just obsessed with her books and her writing, and well, that doesn’t leave much room for family. I’m not much better though."

"Oh."

"And we haven't been too hot lately."

"How so?"

"Um, well, we're really distant, and, um, we haven't had sex in two months."

You snorted and he blanched. He usually never shared that kind of thing with anyone and here he was confessing his personal problems to you, his secretary. The alcohol must be affecting him more than he thought. This is why he didn't drink at parties.

"How? Has she seen you? I would be all over you if I was your wife.”

You realized what you had said a moment too late and you looked at him with wide eyes, a faint blush covering your face. He let out a nervous chuckle.

“Would you now?”

You nodded before downing the rest of your drink. Jungkook felt something akin to butterflies begin to flutter in his stomach. He had known that he was fairly attractive, but something about hearing someone as ethereal as you admit it made his heart do flips.

“Yeah, well, it’s really on me I guess. I haven’t really wanted to.”

“You don’t want to have sex?”

Relief washed over your face when you realized that he wasn’t going to linger on your slip up.

“Yeah. Well no. I do want to have sex. Just not with her.”

“I see. Well, who do you want to have sex with?”

It was a small glimpse, almost imperceptible, but he saw the recognition in your face as you watched his eyes glance over you.

“Me?”

Jungkook gulped. What was he doing? What was he getting himself into? He had a life to protect. Expectations to uphold. And yet, here he was, considering risking it all for a secretary who was making him feel something for the first time in months.

When he gathered enough courage to look at you, he found you staring at his lips. One second he’s waging a war with himself and the next your mouth is on his. Your lips are just as warm and soft as he thought they would be and for a moment he lets himself be absorbed by them. But reality rapidly floods back, and he pushes you away. You looked at him, obviously hurt by the rejection.

“I’m sorry.”

He’s being honest. He doesn’t want to hurt you. But he was a coward who was afraid of what people thought of him. And the things people would think about him if they knew he kissed his secretary were not pretty.

“It’s fine.”

You failed to cover up the disappointment in your voice.

“It’s not you. It’s just I have a wife, and a family with expectations and-”

He sighs.

“Look, it’s fine. Really. I’m just gonna get going, okay? I’ll see you on Monday.”

With that, you leave him to his own devices. He watches your figure go, before turning back to face the city.

“Fuck.”

If work was hell before, it was nothing compared to what it was now. Every day, he found himself torn between wanting to take you on his desk and wanting to never see you again. Ever since the party, the memory of your lips pressed on his had haunted him like an orphaned Victorian ghost with a thirst for revenge. It was on replay in his mind to the point he couldn’t properly sleep anymore. He felt like shit, and he was pretty sure he looked it too, but if anyone noticed they neglected to say anything.

You, on the other hand, seemed to be doing just fine. You hadn’t so much as mentioned the party. You performed your duties with your usual pep and continued to bring him your heavenly pastries. He resented you a little bit for being able to move on so easily. Here he was hung up on a moment he had fucked up, and there you were acting like nothing had happened. He wanted to scream.

So he pulled back. He only talked to you if it was absolutely necessary. He never looked your way. He threw himself into his job. But you were still there, just as tempting as the first day he had seen you. His mind was being forced to choose between you alongside the island paradise he dreamed of, and keeping up appearances while pleasing his elders. A week passed and he was miserable. He was exhausted and all his will power had been depleted.

That’s why he ended up doing what he did. Or at least that’s what he told himself. Friday rolled around and Jungkook was at his wit’s end. And then there you were, fifteen feet away from him flirting with some random guy from IT. (Namjoon, maybe?) It was harmless, but it didn’t stop Jungkook’s gut from twisting about inside of him. Why didn’t you flirt with him? Why didn’t you show him any signs of affection? He reminds himself that he rejected you, but it’s no help. Jealousy overwhelms him as he squirms in his leather chair. He barely noticed his hands clamped into fists or the way his jaw had clenched to the point of pain. When Namjoon leans over to whisper into your ear, Jungkook loses the small tidbits of control he had left.

He pushes himself out of his chair and storms out, not bothering to say anything as he grabs your arm and pulls you away from a stunned Namjoon and back to his office, slamming the door behind him.

“Can I help you?”

Your tone is curt and your face was twitching with displeasure. Jungkook realized that once he had you, he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do with you. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He would certainly like to bend you over his desk and fuck you until you couldn’t walk, but he was fairly certain that wouldn’t go over well with you right now.

“Umm…”

He felt a blush cross his face as he realized he was still holding onto your wrist. He released it before turning to pace back and forth across the marble floor.

“Well?”

You folded your arms across your chest, your eyes were alight with something dangerous. Something that Jungkook found incredibly sexy. Before his brain could register with what he was doing, he found himself marching over to you, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you in for a kiss.

You stiffened against him, but before you had a chance to respond, he had pulled away from you. The guilt was almost immediate, drowning him in regret and confusion. You too looked confused, as you stood stock still, surprise plastered all over your face. Jungkook turned and walked back to his chair.

“You can go.”

You seemed to barely register the words as you nodded before absent-mindedly wandering out of his office. Jungkook relaxed in his seat as he tried to make sense of what had happened. He knew he had feelings for you, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Nothing he couldn’t control. But he had lost control and now he wasn’t able to trust himself. And he didn’t know if he wanted to.

After that, things went back to normal. Well, as normal as they could be. He gathered the courage to interact with you again. But now instead of friendly glances and gestures, there were secret looks and subtle touches. Jungkook knew he was a wind-up toy one twist away from snapping, but he couldn’t help but indulge in your flirty gestures.

He found himself growing bolder as the consequences he had once worried about seemed to be a world away. What started with the brush of a hand across the hip, grew to a hand on your thigh in the back of the car. Dark stares and lip bites plagued his day. At night, he would go home and lock himself in his private office where he would wrap his hand around his cock while conjuring up images of you in a variety of wanton states, all for him.

He should’ve known that staying at work late with you would be a bad idea. Usually, you had the rest of the employees to keep you in check. With them gone, he found himself finding little reason to hold himself back.

“And so that’s why I think it’s a good idea to start engaging with younger consumers.”

You had been discussing ways to boost sales for the quarter, but he had stopped listening long ago, instead focusing on how your shirt was opened a button lower than usual.

“Mr. Jeon?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you listening?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Of course. Younger consumers. Got it.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Maybe if you spent less time staring at my chest and more time focusing on these market studies, we would already have higher sales.”

“Sorry.”

“Sure you are.”

“You’re right. I’m not.”

The drop of his voice surprised even him. You looked at him with an unreadable look from your perch on the edge of his desk.

“And what is so enticing about my chest?”

Jungkook gulped. Your eyes had darkened and he felt himself start to stir in his pants.

“It’s a part of you. And you are so sexy I can barely control myself.”

You smirked, before sauntering over to him and lowering yourself into his lap. The scent of your perfume overwhelmed him as you leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“Then don’t.”

Somewhere inside him, a cord snapped. The control he had been trying to reign in had broken free and he was left to his own primal devices. He pulled your lips to his, finally relishing in getting to properly kiss you. You responded instantly, lips moving against his as your hands buried themselves in his hair. You tugged on the strands and Jungkook moaned into your mouth, hips bucking up into you as his hand grabbed your ass. You returned his moans and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

His brain was a mess of emotions and hormones. He was overwhelmingly hard in his pants and your lips felt too good against his. You rolled your hips on top of him and he let a growl, the need to take you battling with his need to preserve the few remaining shreds of his dignity.

He didn’t have the chance to make a decision though when the office door swung open and the head of a very confused janitor popped in.

“Uh…I thought you were gone,” he stuttered, “...I’ll just leave.”

The janitor blushed before shutting the door. Jungkook turned back to look at you to find a similar rosy hue had graced your cheeks.

“Um...I should probably get going too.”

Your voice was meek and the embarrassment of getting caught was plastered all over your face. He can’t blame you though, he isn’t doing too well himself. The fear of getting caught had left him deflated in more ways than one.

“Yeah, sure, that’s probably good.”

You moved off his lap, readjusting your skirt as you do so. You grab your purse and jacket before walking to the door. Just as you were about to open it, you turn back to look at him.

“Good night, Jungkook.”

He looked up surprised. It was the first time you had called him by his first name. It sounded heavenly coming from your lips.

“Goodnight.”

Before he left for the night, he made sure to track down the janitor and offer him a healthy sum of money to stay quiet. He took it happily and continued on his way.

The weekend passed slowly for Jungkook. You plagued his thoughts with images of your rumpled skirt and the feeling of your hands in his hair. His wife was out of town for yet another business trip. He didn’t care. It just gave him more time with the thought of you while his hand was around his cock.

When Monday finally rolled around, Jungkook found himself the happiest he’d ever been to go to work. As he walked into the lobby, the sight of you washed over him like the cold water of a lake on the hottest day of summer. Something about your smile seemed to relieve him of all the heavy stress he was carrying on his shoulders.

He almost made it through the day without losing control of himself. Despite all the glances he gave you, or the way you brushed your hand against his while you leaned over next to him to explain a chart, he managed to keep it together. But when you bent over in front of his desk to pick up a pen he dropped, he lost all control. The next thing he knew, he was slamming you against his office door, lips attacking yours, while his hips rutted into you.

Your initial shock wore off almost instantly and you groaned as you melted into him. You wrapped a leg around his waist, dragging him closer to your core. The kiss was messy and he was sure your lipstick was ruined. A fervent need overwhelmed him as he humped you like a desperate teenager. You pulled away to catch your breath, dark eyes looking staring back at his own.

“Fuck, you turn me on so much, baby,” he growled into your ear, hips moving faster.

Words seemed to fail you as you whined back at him, pleasure contorting in your face. You suddenly let go of him, before dropping down to your knees. Instead of going to undo his pants like he expected, you simply gave a long lick over his bulge. Jungkook’s legs immediately turned to jello and he had to brace himself on the door to keep himself upright.

“Oh fuck, what are you doing baby?”

“I’m getting you off. Do you want me to make you feel good sir?”

For once he was happy to hear the name. He didn’t get a chance to respond before you grabbed him through his pants. He threw his head back with a moan. It briefly occurred to him that people might hear through the thin walls, but your hand on his hard cock soon relieved him of all thought. It didn’t take much to get him to the point of no return. Even with all the nights spent with his fist and a bottle of lube he still felt like a rubber band getting stretched to its limit. You were barely touching him, but there he was, on the precipice of cumming in his own damn pants. He barely had time to warn you before spurts of hot cum filled his boxer briefs with white. “Oh, fuck.”

You giggled as he let out soft groans, cock twitching in its confines. The high of pleasure was quickly wiped away as the sensation of sticky underwear rose to his attention.

“You’re a bad, bad girl, baby. You made me cum in my pants. Do you know what happens to bad girls?”

“No, sir.”

“They get punished.”

“And how are you going to punish me, sir?”

Jungkook had to stifle a groan. You were still on your knees in front of him, calling him ‘sir’. Despite having just had one of the better orgasms in his life, his dick twitched with interest.

“Stand up.”

You quickly obey, rising to your full height, but keeping eye contact the entire time.

“Take off your panties.”

Your eyes grew wide at his demand, but you obeyed him nonetheless. The second you grasped the pink lace in your hand, he snatched them from you, immediately bringing them up his nose. He inhaled, letting himself get lost in the musky aroma.

“Shit, baby, you smell so good. I can’t wait to eat your wet pussy. But not today. You were bad today and only good girls get their pussy eaten.”

You let out a whimper but kept your mouth shut, body frozen in place. He stuffed your panties into his pant pocket before walking over to his desk and taking a seat.

“You may go.”

You looked like you wanted to say something, probably about your lack of undergarments, but you held your tongue and turned to leave.

“Oh, and one last thing.”

You turned back to him.

“I’m going to need a new suit. It seems I’ve spilled some coffee on this one.”

He smirked and you nodded, before stepping out the door.

He didn’t try to hold himself back after that. He would take you whenever the opportunity arose. It didn’t take long for him to fulfill his promise to eat you out. He would forever remember the way you whined his name while his mouth pulled not one, but two orgasms from your dripping pussy. And when he finally got to feel your mouth around his cock, he was fairly sure he had found nirvana.

He wouldn’t fuck you though. He knew it was silly as if he would be betraying his wife any more than he already was by having sex with you, but for some reason, he felt the need to draw a line. To separate the boundary between the fantasy land he had created with you and the cold reality that he returned home to. His wife had become all but a ghost in his life, and as a result, Jungkook found you providing his only emotional support in addition to sexual release. He didn’t want to admit that somehow, in a few short months, you had grown from being just his secretary to his closest companion.

He didn’t want to admit it because he was too afraid of where it would lead. He was already teetering on the edge to give it all up, even before you had shown up in his office looking like a gift from heaven, but now, now he was fairly certain that even the tiniest breeze would push him over. And he didn’t know if you would be there to catch him if he fell.

But that didn’t stop him from starting to dream of a future with you. The island paradise in his mind expanded to include you. Flashes of laughing children, nights under the stars, and soft kisses danced through his mind. You would have your own bakery, he would take pictures, and together you would create your own little family. One that was far removed from the hassle and the stress of his painful existence.

Jungkook was over the moon to discover that you would be accompanying him on a work trip to Japan. For one whole week, you would be one door away. Even if it was a ruse, Jungkook would be allowed to pretend, for one whole week, that you were his and he was yours alone. On the plane ride alone, he made you cum three times in the cramped bathroom. During the day, you would both try to hold it together. Merger meetings were laced with subtle glances and hidden touches. At night, you would become a whole other animal.

You tested his limits. Dared him to give in and finally give you what you both wanted: him inside you. Every night you would knock on his door in translucent nighties that highlighted the fact you had discarded your bra. After the second night of showing up in see-through clothes, Jungkook decided to return the favor, opening the door with his shirt unbuttoned, leaving his abs out for anyone to see. While you were both visibly affected by each other’s teasing, neither of you gave in until the last moment, each of you leaping into each other's arms and making a mess of the hotel furniture. But he still didn’t fuck you. It was his line. His final frontier.

On the last night of the trip, Jungkook suggested that they finally test out the jacuzzi on his balcony. Bad idea. When you showed up in a tiny red bikini that did little to protect your dignity, Jungkook felt himself spiraling out of control. Instead of greeting you like he usually did, he thrust a cocktail in your hand while trying to will his dick into submission. He made it through about ten minutes in the hot tub, trying to participate in regular conversation with you. But he couldn’t, not when your tits were sitting right there. He was no longer sure if the sweat dripping down his forehead was from the warm water or the pent up tension.

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“I can’t take this anymore,” he groaned.

“Can’t take what?”

Your eyes gleamed, daring him to admit to what they both knew he so desperately needed.

“There is nothing more I want then to sink into your pretty pink pussy right now.”

“So why don’t you?”

It was the first time you had questioned why he refused to have sex with you, and now that you were finally confronting him about it, he found himself at a loss for a reasonable explanation. The line that he thought he was creating by refusing to have sex with you had long ago been blurred to the point of no longer existing. And here you were, with your warm body inches from him, wanting him just as much as he wanted to you and he knew that he was done for.

“Fuck it.”

With that, he pulled you onto his lap, attaching his lips to yours for the three millionth time. He would never tire of your kisses, the way they comforted his soul, and quenched his constant need for your touch. You eagerly responded to him, tongue licking the seam of his lips. As the two of you began to explore each other’s mouths, his hands came up to the string keeping your bikini top together and gave it a quick jerk, letting the scarlet cloth fall from your body. He pulled back and groaned at the sight of your perfect tits, the water around you swishing as he rolled his hips up into yours.

You whined out, “Fuck, baby. Just like that. God, I can’t wait for you to be inside me.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook’s voice was low with lust, “Me neither, baby. You’re gonna be such a good slut for me aren’t you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Even after months of you calling him ‘sir’ in less than professional situations, Jungkook still hadn’t gotten used to it. He felt every inch of his skin tingle with sheer pleasure every time the word fell from your shameless mouth. You whined, teeth pulling at his bottom lip as you pressed down on top of him, just as desperate as he was. He moved from your mouth to your neck, kissing down to your collarbone, where he stopped to take the time to leave a rosy mark that signified you were his and his alone. Once he was satisfied with it, he continued down your chest, taking one of your pretty pink nipples in his mouth, sucking on the hardened bud. You moaned out his name, hips stuttering against his. God, he loved your breasts.

Your hands tangled themselves in his hair, pulling on them to the point of pain. Jungkook didn’t care though. He loved when you showed him just how good he could make you feel. It made him feral. Sure, receiving pleasure was gratifying, but there was nothing quite like watching you squirm from his ministrations.

He reluctantly pulled away from your tits to pull the ties keeping your bikini bottoms intact before discarding the garment in the same manner as your top, leaving you naked on top of him. He took a moment to pull back and admire how beautiful you looked. You sat there as he looked you over, a blush rising to your cheeks. You crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to make yourself less vulnerable to him.

“Oh no baby, don’t hide yourself from me,” he gently pulls your arms away, “you’re too beautiful to stay covered up.”

Your blush intensified. He smiled at you, wrapping his large arms around your body and carrying you out of the hot tub. Your lips reconnected with his as he stumbled his way into the hotel room, tossing you on the king-sized bed.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?”

His voice was as dark as his eyes. You nodded in response, voice escaping you.

“That’s my baby.”

He pulled off his wet swim trunks before joining you on the bed, where your wet body had begun to soak the sheets. If he had his way, they would be much wetter by the time the night was over. He wasted no time diving into your pussy, lips attaching to your clit, drawing out your sweet moans. His fingers found your entrance, circling it a few times to collecting your slick, before slipping one in. Your back arched at the sensation and Jungkook let out a chuckled against your clit.

Your whines grew higher and he could tell that you were getting close to finishing. After months of exploring your body, he was well acquainted with how to play your pussy like an instrument, conducting your symphony of pleasure. He slipped in a second finger, crooking them upwards in search of the spot he knew would make you scream. When you cried out he knew that he had found it and not five seconds later, you were coming all over his digits.

“Fuck, Kook.”

“I hope you don’t think that we’re done yet,” he growled as his fingers slowed before leaving your sopping cunt, “when I’m through with you, you won’t be able to walk for days. I'll have to carry you to every meeting and explain to them that I fucked you too hard for you to function.”

You clenched around nothing at his words and he mindlessly took his cock in his hands, giving it a few quick strokes.

“You like that don’t you? You would love for the entire world to know how much of a whore you are for my cock.”

“I would. I’m a whore for your cock, please give it to me. I’ve been a good girl.”

Without bothering to warn you, he lined himself up before sinking into you. You both groaned at the feeling of your tight cunt stretching around his cock. After months of dreaming of what your pink walls would feel like around him, he could confirm that the sensation was much better than anything his imagination had conjured.

He started with slow thrusts, trying to give himself time to come off the edge he had already been worked up to. Your legs came to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer to you. As soon as you had adjusted to his girth, you began to roll your hips up to meet his.

“Go faster.”

“Uh uh, if you want Daddy to go faster, you have to beg like a proper slut.”

It just slipped out. Jungkook knew he had a daddy kink, but it generally stayed repressed deep within after his wife had shamed him for it. But you didn’t seem to mind. If anything, you squeezed him even tighter.

“Please Daddy, please go faster. Fuck my tight pussy.”

He conceded to your wishes, pulling all the way out, before thrusting back in. He set a tireless pace, pounding into you so hard the bed began to shake. He leaned down, meeting your lips in a sloppy kiss. Your teeth clacked together, but Jungkook didn’t care. He just wanted to be as close to you as possible.

He pulled away from your lips and his cock twitched at the visual of the string of saliva connecting your mouths. Without him to silence you, your moans mingling with the sound of skin slapping creating a beautiful symphony for Jungkook’s ears.

He felt himself approach the edge, honing in on his release. Luckily for him, your pussy was tightening around him, signaling that you were close too.

“Fuck, are you gonna cum for me, baby? Are you gonna come around Daddy’s cock like a good girl?”

“Yes Daddy, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna-”

Your voice broke off into a high pitched moan as you clenched around him. You threw your head back, hands clawing into his skin. The mix of pain and pleasure sent him over the edge with you. He quickly pulled out before covering your pussy and stomach in white strands. As soon as the waves of ecstasy rescinded, he collapsed on top of you, exhaust claiming his muscles.

He laid there for a minute before hopping up and heading to the bathroom. When he came back out, warm towel in hand, he found you passed out on the soaked sheets. His heart skipped a beat at your blissed-out face and for a moment he wished he could feel as peaceful as you looked. After making sure you were thoroughly clean, he collapsed on the bed next to you. Sleep was quick to come to him, but not before he took you into his arms, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

A dam had burst. The two of you went at it like rabbits, he would take you any and every way could, whenever he could. He couldn’t get enough of you. He would take you in the back of the limo, in the elevator, empty conference rooms. It was to the point he was sure the entire company knew of your amorous relations, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. All he thought about was you. Even the fear of disappointing his parents was beginning to diminish. As his feelings for you grew and blossomed, his desire to please anyone else faded into a faint buzz in the background of his mind. You had him whipped.

He knew things were bad when his five year anniversary with his wife rolled around and he didn’t feel a thing when she told him that she wouldn’t be able to be there due to some book tour. Sure, a little part of him was upset that she didn’t care enough to even try to change the tour dates, but he knew that he didn't have a leg to stand on. In fact, he was rather grateful he wouldn’t have to plan some dinner to celebrate a love that had died long ago.

When you heard that he was spending his anniversary alone, you had offered him some company. He felt a twinge of guilt about the idea of having sex with a woman that wasn’t his wife on their anniversary, but not enough to stop him from inviting you over. So there you were, in his foyer, with an overnight bag, a bottle of wine, and a smile that could light up the heavens. He grinned back at you, taking the bottle and leading you into the living room.

“I’ll get us some glasses, yeah?”

“Sure. Do you mind if I change? Work clothes aren’t the most comfortable.”

“Oh, yeah, go ahead. There’s a bathroom down the hall to your left.”

When he returned to the living room with two glasses and a bottle opener, you were curled up on the couch in a tank and shorts. You were flipping through the photography book that he kept on the coffee table. You were so immersed in the pictures that you didn’t notice his presence.

“So whatcha want to do?”

You jumped, startled by the sound of his voice.

“It’s your anniversary, you should decide.”

He placed the opener and the glasses on the table next to the bottle before taking a seat next to you.

“I don’t know. How about we just drink and talk for a bit?” he paused, “Maybe that’s stupid.”

“Nope. Nothing about you is stupid.”

There was your damn smile again. Jungkook hated the way his heart pounded faster because of it. He smiled back at you. It only took a few sips of the merlot before Jungkook had begun to relax. He had been drunk around you plenty of times, but there was something about wine that made him want to pour his entire heart out to you.

He watched as you laughed at your own joke, strands of hair that had fallen loose from your tight ponytail danced on your cheek. The world seemed to slow down a little, time coming to a halt, making the room for him to exist with just you and no one else. It was somewhere in that warm, fuzzy space that the words came tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“I think I love you.”

Even the air in the room stilled. You stared at him, eyes wide with shock.

“What?”

You looked like a deer in headlights. Jungkook felt like one.

“Nothing. I was just running my mouth. Don’t mind me. Go back to telling me about this dream bakery of yours.”

Much to his chagrin, you didn’t budge, eyes still fixed on his rigid body. Your surprise had evaporated and you were now looking him up and down as if you were trying to analyze his inner thoughts. You both sat frozen for what felt like ages before you moved to kneel in front of him, taking his shaky hands in yours. When you opened your mouth, your voice was soft, caressing his soul.

“I love you too.”

The world stopped in its tracks. Jungkook swore his heart stopped beating in his chest. And then your lips were on his and even though he had kissed you more times than he could count, this felt different. This felt like the collision of two planets, the implosion of a star. Fireworks weren’t enough to describe the cascade of emotions pouring through him. His hands grasped your cheeks, gently caressing the soft skin. You hummed against his mouth as he pushed you back to lie on the couch, while your legs spread to make room for him between your thighs.

Jungkook swore he felt a tear trickle down his cheek, but he couldn’t tell if it was from you or him. He honestly didn’t care. The woman he had grown to love loved him back. He now knew that you would catch him if he fell. And so he let himself tumble over the precipice he had once been so terrified of. He could finally admit that your embrace was home and that your arms eyes were the safety he never felt. He loved you. You loved him. The stars had aligned.

He trailed his kisses away from your lips and to the crook of your neck where he inhaled. You smelled of the remnants of your perfume mixed with your own personal scent. He swore if he breathed it in enough, he would get high off it. Instead, he placed soft kisses on the delicate skin, before taking it in between his teeth, shamelessly marking you. The whole world would know that you belonged to him, almost as much as he belonged to you.

You moaned as he sucked the bruised skin into his mouth before shifting lower so that his face was right between your breasts. Your flimsy tank top did nothing to stop him from tearing it in two.

“Jesus, Kook,” you groaned as he took in the sight of your braless chest, bare before him.

“What? I can buy you all the tank tops you want. I would buy you the whole world.”

And it was true. If that’s what it would take to make you happy, that’s what he would do. Tears glinted in your eyes at his words before Jungkook ripped a moan out of your mouth when he took a nipple in his. He sucked on it before releasing it with a pop.

“These are the best tits in the world. I love them almost as much as I love you.”

He dove back in taking the neglected breast in his hand, rubbing the nipple. Your hips bucked up into him, desperate for more concrete pleasure than the little he was teasing you with.

“Slow, baby, I’ll get there. Slow.”

You whined in response, head thrown back against the arm of the couch while Jungkook swirled his tongue over you. Even though he was unbelievably hard in his sweats, he found no motivation to do anything about it, his sole focus on you and your pleasure.

He moved to kiss down your stomach. When he reached the hem of your shorts, he pulled them off, before moving to kiss over your lace panties. An obvious wet patch marked the center and Jungkook once again took the time to stop and smell you. The aroma overwhelmed him, driving him mad with carnal lust.

“Fuck baby, your dripping, and I’ve barely touched you yet.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re taking forever. Please baby, I need you.”

And how could he deny you when you were so sweet and all fucked out, just for him. He pulled your soaked panties to the side, groaning at your soaked, pink lips. He dove in, licking one long striped from the bottom of your cunt up to your clit. You bucked against him desperate for more.

In response, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding you in place. His tongue found your clit, eliciting angelic moans from you while he drew abstract shapes on your bundle of nerves. Your thighs began to quiver in his grip and he smiled against you. The thought of you coming from just his mouth had his dick twitching in excitement.

“Fuck, Kookie, I’m gonna cum.”

“That’s right baby, cum all over tongue.”

Seconds later, you're soaking his mouth while you writhed in pleasure. But Jungkook didn’t stop. He was too blissed out with his face in your cunt. He would stay like this forever if he could. He pulled one hand away from your thigh, to sneak around to your entrance, a finger slipping inside.

“Oh god, Kook, it’s too much.”

“You can do it, baby. I know you can.”

You looked like you were about to protest before he curled his finger up, hitting your g-spot. You cried out, more slick pouring out of you, if that was possible. He knew that there was a large wet spot staining his ten-thousand-dollar couch, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Slipping another finger in you, he began to flick with his tongue, daring you to come again. It didn’t take long.

“Oh shit, Kook, shit, shit, gonna cum, shit, shit-”

He’s never heard you scream so loud in all the months he’s had the privilege of giving you orgasms. Before he could properly register what was happening, you were squirting all over him. Your hips bucked out of your control as you painted his face with your orgasm. Jungkook swore that if he had any less self-control, he would’ve come all over in his pants.

As you came down from your high, Jungkook scooped you up, carrying you to the bedroom. He laid you gently on the bed, giving you a few moments to recover as he stripped himself of his own clothes. You sat up, watching him closely as he slowly revealed himself to you. He was well built, he knew that, but you often told him how much you appreciated his muscles, as if the way you kissed and bit his abs weren’t enough of a clue. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t started working out more just to please you.

But he also knew that he could never step foot in a gym again and you would still love him just as much. That was the difference between you and his wife. You loved him without condition, without the need for him to be someone he wasn’t. His wife had fallen in love with only one version of him, a version that no longer existed.

He joined you on the bed, crawling up between your legs, giving you a soft kiss when he reached your lips. You fell back on the pillows letting him take in your face, your body, you. He bucked up against you, tip rubbing your clit and you let out simultaneous moans.

Just when he was about to slip into you, his phone rang on the bedside table. He groaned, lifting himself up to see who dared to call him when he was about to have sex with the love of his life. A flash of guilt rushed through him when he saw his wife’s name light up the screen. Of course it was her. Despite everything, this was a woman who would keep up appearances until her dying breath. And here he was, about to have sex with another woman in their shared bed. He sighed, swiping to ignore the call, before tossing it back on the table.

This time, he didn’t wait to enter you, thrusting in immediately. He groaned at the feeling of your soft walls encapsulating him. Ever since the first time you had had sex, he had always made sure to use a condom, but he couldn’t bring himself to care that he wasn’t using one now. Being inside you without the extra barrier felt so intrinsically right. In fact, part of him was excited about the idea of going raw and risking getting you pregnant.

“You wanna get me pregnant?”

Your voice was soft and curious. He stilled inside of you,

“Umm…?”

His voice trailed off as he tried to come up with a reasonable response. His brain failed him.

“It’s okay if you do. It’s kinda hot actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t mind having your kid.”

Jungkook couldn’t help the moan that fell out of his mouth. He thrust softly in you. So many hormones were flooding his brain that he could barely focus on what was happening.

“Well, then I guess it’s my duty to make sure you’re nice and pregnant for me by the end of the night.”

“Yeah, Kookie,” you whined, “give it to me. Want you to cum in me. Want your baby.”

The two of you met in a messy kiss as Jungkook pounded into you, balls slapping your ass. Desperation flooded him, determination to knock you up with his child overriding every other need. He’d never had the desire to get someone pregnant like this before. There was something about you that pulled at all his primal instincts.

You were tightening again, your moans drowning out the sound of skin slapping accentuated by Jungkook’s own grunts. Jungkook himself wasn’t too far from finishing himself, having been on edge since you squirted all over him.

“Fuck baby,” you moaned, “you fuck me so well.”

“Yeah. Are you gonna cum for me? Are you gonna cum so that I can get you pregnant?”

“Yes, fuck, I love yo-”

Your voice faded into a scream as tears rolled down your cheeks as you came for the third time that night. The look on your face triggered Jungkook’s own orgasm. He roared as jets of white cum covered your inner walls. His hips stuttered as he chanted your name. Your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, holding him deep within you.

He rolled over without pulling out, keeping you tight in his arms.

“Mmm,” you hummed, “hope that did the trick.”

“Yeah? Me too,” he smiled.

You grinned back.

“Are you not gonna pull out?”

“We gotta keep my cum in you so we make sure it does the trick.”

“Okay,” you chuckled.

“What?”

He pouted.

“You’re just cute.”

“I’m not cute.”

“Sure...”

He giggled when you rolled your eyes, pressing a peck on your lips. The two of you stayed like that for the rest of the night, wrapped in each other's arms, talking until sleep carried you off into dreamland.

Jungkook woke the next morning before you. He took a moment to admire your face, not believing that you were really all his. He softly kissed your forehead before wiggling his way out of your embrace.

He quietly slipped on a tee and some sweats before making his way to the kitchen where he put on a pot of coffee. While he waited, he checked his phone, expecting to find a voicemail from his wife. He was surprised to find none. He opened the phone app and his stomach dropped. There at the top of his recent calls was a twenty-minute call with her. He must have accidentally answered it. She must have heard everything. Anxiety crept up on him as he began to pace the white kitchen floor. Before he knew what he was doing, the phone was dialing.

“Hello?”

Her voice was groggy.

“Hi.”

His voice quivered.

“What do you want Jungkook?”

“Oh, umm, I’m sorry I guess,” his voice is quiet, “For what you heard.”

“You mean listening to you moan about how you wanted to get your secretary pregnant?”

He cringed at her dripping sarcasm.

“Yeah. That.”

“Don’t be.”

“What?”

“Don’t be sorry. I don’t care.”

“You don’t?”

“Jungkook,” she sighed, “I think we both knew something like this was going to happen.”

“Yeah, I guess. But that doesn’t mean that it was okay for me to cheat on you.”

“That’s true.”

They both stay silent for a minute, letting it all sink in.

“I suppose that means this is the end of the road for us then, huh?”

“Yeah, it is. But it’s okay. We weren’t meant to be. All things being said, you sound like you really love her.”

“I do, I really do.”

“And if I’m being honest, I’ve kinda had a thing for my editor for a while.”

“Seokjin?”

He was honestly surprised that he remembered his name.

“Yeah.”

They both laughed.

“We’ll talk when you get back, yeah?”

“Yeah. Goodbye, Jungkook.”

“Goodbye.”

He hung up before leaning against the counter, throwing his head back to look at the ceiling. A breath of relief escaped as all the weight he had been carrying for so long fell from his shoulders. It was over. His dead marriage was finished and now he had the rest of his life to love you. He laughed giddily before running to wake you up and tell you the news.

Six months later, he’s on a beach in Jamaica, trying to take a picture of you without you noticing. He’s almost successful, your nose is buried too deep in a paperback you had propped up on your pregnant stomach, but you looked up when you heard the shutter click.

“Jungkook,” you groaned, “I told you not to take pictures of me.”

“I’m sorry, baby, I can’t help it. You're too sexy carrying my baby.”

You rolled your eyes behind your shades.

“Whatever. As long as no one else sees them.”

“Of course, baby. I’m keeping you all to myself.”

You grinned before turning back to your book.

A month after his conversation with his now ex-wife, their divorce had been finalized. He’d simultaneously quit his job as CEO, unafraid of disappointing anyone else at the expense of his happiness. He had made more than enough money to support the two, soon to be three, of you for the rest of your life. Together, you had moved to Jamaica, where you were working on opening a bakery and he had begun a fairly successful photography business. And in three months, the two of you would welcome a beautiful baby girl into the world.

He sighed, overly content with his life. He glanced down to your hand to spot the sparkling diamond on your ring finger. A month ago, he had taken you out on a boat ride where he had asked you to be his wife. You had eagerly accepted.

Now he was blissed out in that island paradise he had dreamed about all those months ago. His stress levels were an all-time low. And, sure, maybe his parents weren’t that happy with him, (all though his mother was over the moon when he announced the impending arrival of a grandchild, finally), but whenever he woke in the morning with you by his side, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. You were his whole world, and he wouldn’t give that up for anything.

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theodora3022 · 4 years ago

Text

Claim (Yandere Chuuya Nakahara)

Pairing: Yandere! Chuuya Nakahara X Fem reader

Summary: You have the courage to mock Dazai when he flirts with you casually, different from almost every other woman Dazai throws himself on. Seeing his nemesis being stepped on brings Chuuya great joy, which escalates to him taking a special interest in you.

Notes: So...If you read my BNHA fics you should know I have a thing for wind superpowers, so reader is going to have a wind ability in here as well. Be gone if you have problems with that. My first take on BSD, on Chuuya nevertheless... Hopefully this does not flop. I thought about writing Kunikida for this one, but I just could not get Chuuya’s smirk off my mind (Along with Fyodor’s but that is for another day) Also this is self indulgent as hell, so be warned. I’m not satifised with the final result, as some parts feels a bit forced...But there you have it.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Drugging, coercion, mention of knife and blood, implied non con at the end

You were sitting beside a floor window of a café when Chuuya first saw you, when he was on his way to get some beer. At first, it was not you that drawn his attention, it was that guy on the opposite end of the coffee table.

Osamu Dazai. Also known as the bane of Chuuya Nakahara’s existence and his greatest adversary. Out womanizing again, he never changes. He was about to ignore those shady behaviours and just carry on, until he hears how you are attacking Dazai with your words.

“Dazai, please. I bet you said that to every woman you met.” Slowly stirring your hot beverage, you smirk as you took a little sip. “It is a miracle how you got this far unscathed.” You seem to see right through Dazai, how clever. Now Chuuya have to hear how this can go down. His own drink can wait, this little comedy show is more worthwhile.

“But beautiful! Your eyes shine like the brightest stars, I just cannot let that go unappreciated.” “If you are so found of shining things, I can get you a pack of glitter to stare at. I would actually appreciate it if you stop staring right into my eyes, thank you.” This is a mistake, you thought. You thought Dazai was just being a good Senpai when he invites you to join him for a quick coffee at lunch. And of course being the naïve new recruit, you said yes without hesitation.

A pack of glitter? Oh dear. Out of all those years Chuuya has known Dazai, he had never seen the brunette getting such a good roast. Placing a hand over his mouth to muffle his chuckles, Chuuya is beyond amused. Most women would be too busy swooning over that pretty face, but you did not even flinch and insulted him just like that. You got some sass! That is the first time the mafia executive had taken a formal notice of you. You are indeed a fair woman, no wonder Dazai would choose to hit on you.

He does vaguely recall recently hearing about the ADA obtaining a new recruit. A young woman with a wind ability. But you are far more interesting then that. “This has been pleasant, but I think it is time to head back to the office.” When Kunikida told you Dazai can be a handful yesterday, you did not expect this is how you would find out. You stopped him from taking out his wallet, shaking your head: “Dazai. I will pay for myself. Besides, you are in enough debt as you are now. See you back at the agency.”

Not even Chuuya can make Dazai appear this defeated, this discouraged. Just who are you exactly? Forget the beer, Chuuya needs to know all about you at once.

Reading through your file back at the headquarters, your info is enough to make even Chuuya raise his eyebrows a couple of times.

You can command any gas to your will? That is a rare gift, even the Port Mafia had yet to secure that. Too bad you are on the wrong side, Chuuya can just think of so many ways of using your ability to its full potential. The file was put back to the storage, sure. But you had impressed him back at that café and peaked his interests. It would be hard to make him unsee Dazai being humiliated. But you did not linger on his mind much after.

However, that would not be lasting too long. Chuuya was shocked to hear some of the members has died in dark alleys of yokohoma, apparently from lack of oxygen, but without any traces of choking or even a cut. Mori even called him to the office to discuss about this.

Pictures of you, in causal and business attire lay across the expensive office desk. You were smiling in all of them, although that smile does not look like an amused one to Chuuya now.

“Do you recognize this woman?”

How can Chuuya forget about you? The woman who gave him the best comedy show, who stomped on Dazai’s philanderer ways so mercilessly. “A new recruit of ADA. Her air control abilities must have enabled her to suck the oxygen particles out of human bodies. It also gives her the ability to levitate and an incredible speed, which is such a headache. Even Akutagawa cannot seem to finish her.”

What a little troublemaker you are. Consider Chuuya motivated. He knows you are strong, but not anyone can escape from Akutagawa. Where is the fun without a little challenge?

“I will go. My abilities would allow me to get the job done.” Heck, this once he would get something Dazai cannot have! In this mini game, at least, Chuuya would be the winner.

“Chuuya, you seem awfully enthusiastic about this. May I ask why that is?” Stroking Elise’s hair, Mori carefully observe the young man’s expressions. “She has the guts to insult Dazai, should be a fun one. I do not plan to kill her, however. That would be such a waste.”

“Yes, that would be most ideal. Her ability would be a valueble asset, here’s some drugs if she is being too difficult.”

Oh but you are so much more then the wielder of a powerful ability to Chuuya.

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

Work has been a pain in the ass lately, so on your afternoon off, you choose to take a walk along the water in the park. Everything looks so peaceful, children running amok, couples holding hands, the sound of the birds chirping, all sounds so natural and calming. You let out a sigh of relief as you settled on a bench beside a tree and closed your eyes, breathing in the forest scent, still sleep deprived from the nightmares.

Although you only killed those gangsters to defend a civilian, you regret it somewhat afterwards. You expected revenge, but not from someone like Akutagawa? You can only remove the target’s oxygen from their bodies when you are standing still and concentrated, never while fleeing for your life. If it is not for your unparalleled speed, you were sure one of those dark spikes is going to be your ultimate demise. It was too close for your liking. Before you were always able to leave safely with your ability, but this time you barely made it.

Dozing off in a park while the Port Mafia is on your trail? Chuuya would advise against that.

However, he would say he much prefer this compliant, soft look on your face compare your sarcastic, confident grin towards Dazai. Dark circles under your eyes? Have you been having sleeping problems? Looks like the little hero is not as brave as she lets on.

Now, he needs to be careful. Even though you look as harmless as a little bunny now, Chuuya can still recall the last expressions his deceased subordinates made. Dying from oxygen loss surely does not look pleasant. While the file said you can only use that special method once per week, Chuuya cannot leave any room for errors.

Ah, it seems you had carelessly dropped your handkerchief on the ground. You did not seem to notice. As if you want him to come near. Who is he to decline a lady’s invitations?

Sensing his approach, you jumped out the bench and distanced yourself from Chuuya. Always on your guard, this should be interesting. Instead of kept closing in the distance, Chuuya bend down and picked up your handkerchief. “Did you drop this?”

See, you were overreacting! He is only trying to tell you that you dropped something. Feeling the guilt of mistaking him for an assassin churns in your stomach, you put up an apologetic smile: “My apologies, sir. And thank you very much.” Yet you cannot shake off the feeling of you saw him before. Is he a government official? Or perhaps a store clerk? It would be rude if you actually do know him. Yes, you definitely seen his handsome face somewhere. Reaching out to his outstretched hand, you tried to retrieve your handkerchief. But as you take the little square cloth into your hand, his slim but firm fingers snapped around your wrist like handcuffs, seizing you with a smug smirk on his face. “Let go of me, Sir. You wouldn’t want me to use my ability on you.”

Your gaze turned cold as the winter snow, as if you are willing to punch him in the face then and there.

A good chance to observe your ability in action. How can Chuuya miss this opportunity? You tried to wiggle out of his grasp while activating your winds, but to your horror, it does not seem to have any effect on Chuuya. Sure, his hat and hair are flowing because of the strong wind, but he has not moved a single inch, still clenching your left wrist in his hand, lips still curling upwards. Turning to your second solution: bringing rocks to hit him until unconsciousness. Why wouldn’t the rocks move? Just who is this man? “Are you with the Port Mafia?”

That took you long enough. Chuuya let out a sinister chuckle, pulls you into his embrace with ease. Locking his right arm around your waist, he whispers beside your ear: “Of course, cutie. And you just walked straight into my trap. Now, it is best if you do not move, I would hate for this knife to leave a scar on your fragile little neck.” Feeling a thin, cold blade pressed against your throat, threatening to cut into your skin, you nervously gulped. Who is he exactly? You should have memorized the faces of the big names of the mafia-

Your ability is impressive. Even Chuuya has to admit that much. If it were not for the reinforced gravity he applied on himself, he would be on the other side of the park by now. Such a shame you are working for that little agency. Crap. You finally remember. Cursing sleep depravation under your breath, you recall where you had seen his face: the files back in the agency. One of the executives, Chuuya Nakahara, with the powers of manipulating gravity. That is why your winds cannot push him away. Just how did you end up with an executive’s knife pressing against your throat?

Under ideal circumstances, you would order the oxygen particles to stay away from this man, but that ability could only be used once per week. You have not recharged enough, and the fact that you are not in best condition does not help either.

“Now, you got two options, sweet. First, you can try to get away, and it would not end pretty.” Chuuya laughs he feels you shiver, clearly frightened by the idea of your blood spilling out like a fountain once he slices open your throat. Your resistance has pathetic impacts on him, but you have to at least try. You have been neglecting your physical training because you often rely on that extraordinary speed your ability grants you. However, that also means you are helpless in close up situations such as present. Not so confident now, aren’t you? “Second, pay a visit to our headquarters. The boss would like an audience with you.” You certainly do not want to fall into the hands of the port mafia. However, there are civilians in the park. They did not seem to notice how Chuuya is holding you at knifepoint. Letting yourself, an ADA agent die here would mean the agency’s reputation is done for. Getting yourself killed in broad daylight, in a public place no less! How incompetent. Looks like the only option is to go with him, for now. “Fine. I will go with you.” “Smart choice. But I would expect no less from an intelligent woman like you.” He carefully removed the knife, and just when you were about to relax and think of a retaliate method, you felt a sharp pain on your left arm. A syringe. Just what did he injected you? Watching you fall onto the ground by your knees, barely able to lift a finger due to the sedation drugs, brings him a strange sense of contentment. Chuuya does not consider himself as a sadist by any means, but after seeing how you treated Dazai, shining with confidence and smugness, only made this submissive version of you so much more satisfactory. “Do not look at me like that, dear (y/n). Just a little insurance that you would not leave without permission. I hope you understand.” You do not, but that does not concern him. Swooping you up effortlessly, Chuuya carries your weak body out of the park, straight to a van that awaits there for a long time.

You never imagined, not even in your wildest dreams, that you would be in the Port Mafia’s headquarters like this. Being carried through corridor after corridor ,by one of their executives like a doll, although not by your own free will. Guards everywhere, almost at every turn point. Maybe you can break one of the windows and fly out? Alas, that would not possible if all you can generate is little breezes due to your present condition.

“Do not worry, (y/n).” Feeling your body tense up, Chuuya choose to reassure you, or at least try to. “If simple murder was my objective, you would be dead in that park.”

There are worse things then death. You really did mess up this time. You do not even want to imagine what they could do to you.

“Enter.”

Placing you gently on the carpted floor, like a fragile china artifact, Chuuya bowed to the man behind the desk. “I brought (y/n) here, as you requested.” A cloved finger lifts your chin up, forcing you too look up into his eyes. You did not flinch, instead you stared back with unveil anger burning in your (e/c) eyes.

“Quite a feisty one. Would you like to join us? Your wind ability completely outclasses my other assassins. That speed and that special method! Truly impressive. You should not waste your talents in that agency. The Port Mafia could offer you more.”

Using the little strength you had left, you got away from the mafia’s boss’s reach and shook your head: “I would rather die a gruesome death then working for you. If you want to kill me, you can do it now.”

“Then, I suppose we need to change our method of negotiation-” Great, you can already feel those cold torture instruments.

“I can handle it.” To your surprise, Chuuya stopped the man from saying any more.

The older man looks to his subordinate with curious eyes. “Chuuya? Are you sure? Wouldn’t it be better to leave this to our experts?”

“Leave it to me, boss. She would be compliant within a week, I can guarantee.” Why would he want to trouble himself with this? Well, he merely wants to claim what Dazai cannot, as simple as that.

“As you wish, then. As long as you do not break her beyond repair, she is all yours.”

You want to shout, to scream that you are not some object to be hand over, but you just do not have the energy to do so. There is not much you can do beside being a silent observer on the ground.

Instead of a torture chamber, Chuuya took you to his personal quarters in the Mafia base. Perhaps he wants to do this the tender way? Sway you with high salary or numerous other perks of working in this mafia?

It is when he thrown you on the bed, straddling over your helpless form, tearing your clothes off mercilessly, you realize how wrong you were.

“You look so good under me, where you belong.” He did not even bother to unbutton your blouse, just ripped the fine fabric off swiftly, grinning at your horrified expressions. “Come on, do not look so scared. This is not like you. Where is your fierce spirts when you insult Dazai?” Has he been stalking you? How could he-

“Ah, no matter. That jerk tried to win you over, but it is me who would get you.You would forget all about him when you are busy screaming my name later. Do you think you can handle my torture methods, dear (y/n)? Gods, you are beautiful. No wonder why Dazai would be head over heels for you.”

How you bit your lip to supress your tears, trying to cover your chest for some modesty, only made his lust increase drastically. This time, Chuuya can finally be proud of his accomplishment: claiming a prize Dazai can never possibly won.

#yandere #yandere bsd #yandere chuuya #yandere chuuya nakahara #yandere chuuya x reader #bsd imagines #bsd chuuya #yandere bungou stray dogs

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gondowan · 4 years ago

Text

Over Your Shoulder

Pairing: Paz Viszla/F!Reader

The Armstech and Paz have a fun night.

Word Count: 3,680 (holy fuck lmao)

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only, Good Communication Is My Kink, daddy/sir kink, and other sexy consensual shenanigans. This one is all smut just fyi.

Notes: Ch 1 Here! Happy first Monday of 2021 folks.

Chapter 2: Can I Get A Bird's Eye View?

“Would you care to find out?”

If you had asked Paz Viszla what he would be doing that day, making a move on the (charming) armstech would not be on the list. He had originally come back to Nevarro on a tip and to see what was left of the Covert, and what could be moved to the new location. He hadn’t planned to stay for too long, but the Bothan’s annoying non-description of who had the datapad stretched Paz’s stay from three days to two weeks. He wasn’t exactly a tracker, that was always a task better suited for someone such as Djarin.

After gently persuading the local dockmaster for a list of new arrivals to Nevarro, he had worked down the list to arrive at the new Guild armstech. She had just arrived a week ago from Bothanui, and set up shop next to the cantina at Greef Karga’s request. Unfortunately, Paz didn’t quite have the luxury of just walking into her workshop. For one, it was constantly busy; day in and day out the woman saw a steady stream of clients, all heavily armed and odds were at least two of them would not be happy to see a Mandalorian. Secondly, he had managed to stay out of the New Republic and the Guild’s radar long enough, and he vastly preferred keeping it that way. Blue beskar and gattling gun(s) were not exactly conducive to blending in with crowds. So, the next logical step of course was to break in quietly, hope he didn’t cause a scene, and leave Nevarro.

Except it didn’t quite pan out that way. Paz had managed to disable the apartment’s security system (not an easy task, this woman was clearly no amateur, he was quite impressed) but she had come back a bit earlier than he expected.

Fuck.

The first thing he saw was her blaster, safety off and pointed directly at him. “What do you want?” she asked. For someone coming face to face with an intruder, she didn’t appear nervous at all-- that probably had to do with her skill not just in weapons repair but weapons writ large. He also saw her giving him a twice-over, gaze lingering on his body, how curious.

Paz cut straight to the chase, hoping to avoid making a scene “The datapad,”.

The woman relaxed and rummaged through her toolkit before walking right up to his face. That was new. Most people, even ones who might call Paz a friend, chose to keep their distance. Either this armstech had nerves of steel or he was losing his touch. “You might want to get this blaster checked,” she motioned at his thighs, “Those scorch marks are usually a bad sign,”. Her gaze lingered briefly and Paz was grateful for his helmet and armor for concealing his expression.

Paz took the datapad, verified its contents, and turned to leave. “Thank you for this,”.

“Ah, so you do have manners,” she teased, voice bright before she shut the door.

What a strange being.

Against his better judgement, Paz showed up the next night. And subsequent nights after that. It was for his own good, he justified to himself, with the Armorer out of reach for the time being, his arsenal did need a good onceover. The other part of him just really wanted to get to know this woman better. She was definitely good at her craft, and carried herself with a general air of confidence, standing up to idiots who wanted to underpay or worse, tried to flirt with her for discounts. She was a by the books type of person, and was polite with clients, but kept to herself despite invitations for a drink from cocky guild members.

She had also taken to calling him Blue, which amused Paz greatly.

“Uh...would you like to stay for dinner?” she asked, eyes flickering briefly at him before returning to the gattling gun on his table. He could tell that she was trying to keep her voice casual, but her shoulders were tense.

Paz really wanted to, but blast, the Creed. “I can’t..but not for the reason you think. I can’t remove my helmet in the presence of others...it’s part of being a Mandalorian”.

He could see the disappointment manifest in your body, and the knowledge that he was the one to do that to you disturbed him greatly.

“Don’t you ever get lonely?”

That was not the follow up question Paz was expecting. Truth be told, he was. The Covert had scattered, and the people he loved were either dead in the ground, missing, or far away. Maybe that was part of what drew him to this particular woman. Something consistent to look forward to, even if it was only for the past week or so. There was also the matter of the bantha in the room-- the rising tension demarcated as of late by light touches on her wrist or at the shell of her ear followed by cheeks flushing red. Paz wondered if she flushed red elsewhere as well.

“Would you care to find out?”

It felt like the air was sucked out of your tiny apartment. You could hear the blood pounding in your heart, ears ringing as you came to grips with the situation. Was he asking what you thought he was asking?

As if he could see the gears turning in your mind, the Mandalorian chuckled, thumb running across your bottom lip “A simple yes or no will suffice. I won’t take what isn’t freely given,”.

You wondered what it would be like to bite his glove off. What his hands would feel like. Yours were callused from years of mechanical work

“Yes.” you whispered, leaving a gentle kiss on his finger.

He leaned closer, helmet grazing the side of your cheek as the vocoder crackled, “That was the response I was hoping for,”. He turned you around with a gentle push of his arm, “Let me take you to bed.”

This was actually happening. You took his hand, looking for an anchor as you led him to your room. As soon as you were there, the brief bravado you had summoned earlier started to dissipate. You settled for helping him take off his bulky armor, pauldrons, greaves, and cuirass forming a neat pile by your bed, until he was left in his helmet and sinfully tight undershirt and pants. It was then that you realized that while the armor added a lot to his frame, he was just big to begin with, easily dwarfing you.

Maker, you didn’t even know his name. You had barely met. Was this really happening? Yes, you had wanted him but was this too soon? Were you being too forward?

“Stop thinking,” he growled, breaking you out of your reverie. He took your hands in his, laying gentle kisses over your knuckles, a kind gesture probably to try to assuage your fears. A thoughtful gesture from someone who lived and breathed war. He helps you out of your top, carefully peeling it off of you, making appreciative noises as you become more and more exposed. Your pants come off next, and inwardly you wish you had the foresight to wear something nicer than what you had on, but that feeling washes away when his fingers dip just inside the waistband of your underwear, teasing.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered, right hand coming up to cup your face in a reassuring gesture. “I’m safe just so you know, I got my implant checked recently,”. You echo his statement, inwardly thanking yourself for keeping up to date with your health.

He held your discarded scarf in the other, “If I cover your eyes I can--”

You closed your eyes, already anticipating his ask. No turning back now, you were all in. You heard him take a sharp intake of breath before carefully wrapping the scarf around your eyes. It was...nice. Without the gift of sight you couldn’t worry about how you looked or what to do. Paradoxically, you felt a little freer than you ever had. You heard of the clunk of the helmet being placed on the ground, and then, his lips were pressing on yours.

Softly at first, an almost chaste movement, as if he were gauging your response, trying to make sure he wasn’t overstepping. It was sweet, but you didn’t come this far for that. You wrapped your arms around him, deepening the kiss, mouth opening to try to convey your desires. It had been a while, you were going to make the most out of this, however fleeting it may be.

You could feel him smiling a little against your mouth and empowered by your kiss, he moved his hands down, thumbs caressing your throat, enjoying the way your breath hitched. He slowly mapped your body, making you giggle when his stubble cheek grazed your collarbones. Down and back up your arms, laying kisses down your sternum and your stomach, and the back up your legs. Carefully and methodically.

You could feel yourself getting wetter, and tried to squeeze your thighs for some friction, anything to help with the pressure. He laughed as he held your thighs apart, “No, not yet,”.

“Blue I…,” you squirmed, fidgeting against his hold.

His voice piped up from between your legs, “It’s Paz.”

You blinked under the blindfold. “What?”.

“My name is Paz Viszla,” he murmured, tongue licking a strip up your inner thigh. You shivered.

Ohhh. “Paz…” you murmured, trying out his name on your tongue, “Paz.”

Paz’s mouth trailed upwards towards your center. “Careful sweetheart, gonna give me ideas with the way you call my name,”. His hands slid back up your torso tracing a line right along the underside of your breasts while his lips continued to ghost around your inner thighs. You could almost feel his breath on your clit, and your attempts to grind onto something are met with empty air.

You whined, desperate for more sensation, “Hurry up, I haven’t got all night” you huffed. This was supposed to be a quick fuck. You were used to quick one night stands with random fly guys, all rushed and without much pomp and circumstance. This pace was killing you, albeit in a good way.

You were rewarded with a slight pinch to your nipples, and your body arched, chasing the crumb of sensation. Paz continued to work your nipples, alternating between rubbing them with the soft pads of your fingers and pinching them. Hazily, you thought about asking him to pull.

“So sensitive,” he murmured as if he was describing the weather and not as if he was torturing you by sucking a bruise right at the valley where your torso meets your leg.

You pout, the thought of saying please at ready on your tongue. Anything for more.

“Impatient aren’t you? Too used to having it your way? That’ll be something to work on next time,”

As much as you were loath to admit it, the admission of “next time” filled you with a funny sensation. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be just a one time thing. But now was not the time to interrogate that. You jerk your head down at his general direction, “Paz, I swear to whoever if you don’t touch me---”

“I am touching you sweetheart. This is called foreplay,”

“I should’ve shot you that night you broke in.” you retort, pretending to be exasperated. You had fantasized about what it would be like to fuck the man underneath the blue beskar, but slow and teasing were not in your assumptions. If he wasn’t doing such sublime things to your nipples, you might actually kill him, you think. You can feel Paz finally lifting his head from your thighs, hands continuing their torture of your chest. He presses kisses on the underside of your jaw and on your neck, clearly enjoying the way you fuss around to look for more.

You want something, anything more than what he’s giving you. “It’s not my first time you know, I don’t need---”.

“Oh I know, but this is your first time with me,” and with that he finally palms your crotch, finally giving you some sweet pressure at your center. He slips a finger in between your folds, drawing circles around your clit with the back of his knuckle. Fuck, that’s nice.

“Remember to breathe,” Paz says, a smug tone evident against the crook of your neck. Two can play at this game, you decide, moving your arm up, aiming blindly for his crotch. Paz quickly side steps you with a swiftness that belies his frame and he swats at your thigh, causing you to yelp.

“Nice try but...let me take care of you. Will you let me hmm? I can make it so good for you,” he murmurs, one hand continuing to rub your clit, the other massaging the spot he had hit on your leg, his tone making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

That exact sequence of words tickles something in the back of your mind. A desire to be soft, pliant, and obedient for this beautiful and dangerous man. To hand over the reigns of your pleasure to him. You sigh, and let down your guard.

Paz can feel the exact moment you decide to stop fighting him. He wasn’t expecting all of this so soon, and it was definitely something that they’d have to discuss later to set limits and boundaries, but fuck if it wasn’t sexy to see this beautiful woman allow him to pleasure her in the way that he wanted. He had long nourished a desire to be a caretaker in one way or another, but the life of a Mandalorian was not exactly conducive to relationships built on so many layers of trust and understanding. The possibility of you made his head spin a little.

Paz thinks about what it would be like to ruin you, this beautiful and talented specimen. He doesn’t even register how hard he is and how uncomfortable his pants are as he drinks in the sight of you laid out on the bed in front of him, nipples hard, pussy wet, mouth open, wanting, wanting him. Paz wasn’t quite sure what possessed him to move immediately to blindfolds and taking his helmet off (he’s done that all of once in his adult life), but he knew he would absolutely regret it if he didn’t get to kiss and taste you before the night was over. He goes back on his knees in front of you.

You can feel his breath on your clit again and his finger tracing your entrance and you make a noise in anticipation.

“There we go. Just relax, fuck, gonna make this so good for you,” he whispers, slowly inserting his finger into your pussy. You’re so wet that it slips in easily, and Paz moves his finger in and out, exploring you. It’s nice to have something for you to hold on to, but it’s not quite enough.

As if he can read your mind, you feel a second finger at your entrance and right as Paz slips it in, you also feel his tongue on your clit. You blindly reach over, feeling his short hair under your hand, nails digging into his scalp right as he puts his mouth over you and sucks.

Paz lets out an appreciative hum as he works your pussy with his fingers and your clit with his mouth. His tongue works broad flat movements up and down your sensitive bundle of nerves while his fingers methodically push and pull at your center. You bite your lip as the sensations intensify, pulling at Paz’s hair as he continues his precise movements.

“Please Paz— I’m gonna-,”

“Ah, so you do have manners,” he chuckles, his voice muffled by your thighs. Faintly, you register that you had said that to him the first night he broke in, that jerk. You have no idea how he manages to stay so infuriatingly calm while he breaks you down. Your mind scrambles to keep a hold of your dignity. “Unnh--- if you keep this up Viszla, I might--ah fuck- I might have to keep you around”, hips gyrating to meet his tongue.

Paz laughed, “Promises promises. I think we’re going to have a lot of fun together, if you continue to play nice,”. His mouth leaves your clit just as you’re approaching your peak and you cry out in frustration. So close. You press back into his fingers, trying to get a hold of just a little more sensation

You hear him hastily pull down his pants and truth be told you had forgotten he was still fully dressed the entire time while you were completely naked, which somehow made this all the more obscene. You can feel the head of his cock at your entrance as he withdraws his fingers.

“Are you ready?”, blunt head of his cock moving up and down your folds.

You whimper and nod, but he doesn’t move.

“I need you to use your words sweetheart. Do you want this?”, soft kisses pressing against your temple.

You turn towards him, searching for his lips and in a brief moment of lucidity, you whisper “I want you Paz”. You can feel the immediate effect of your acquiesce in his sharp intake of breath.

“I’d give you a warning, but I think we’re past that,” he growls. Before you can ask him what he means, Paz thrusts into you with one fluid motion, slick covered fingers intertwined with yours. You gasp at the intrusion, the sensation almost overwhelming. He was much bigger than you anticipated, and the stretch instinctively made you tense up. Paz holds your hand tighter, “It’s ok, just...just relax, let your body adjust to me,”. You can hear the strain in his voice as he fights against the instinct to rut.

As your body adjusts, he slowly pulls out part way before pushing back in, testing your limits. For a brief moment, there were no words, just your breathing as you focused on the sensation of him filling you, the warmth of his chest on yours, all tying into a wonderful feedback loop.

“Talk to me,”.

You only have one thing to say to him.

“Harder,”.

Paz squeezes your hand lightly, acknowledging your request before grabbing your ankles and putting them at his shoulders.

“Remember, you asked for this,” he whispers, a dangerous edge to his voice and you think about just how easily this man could engulf you and shiver. Before you can make a smart remark, he hoists your hands above your head, holding your wrists down with one hand, and fully thrusts into you, bending you in half and hitting impossibly deeper. You couldn’t push back against him even if you wanted to, and Paz sets a brutal rhythm, the push and pull of his hips fills the air with the sound of your bodies hitting together and all you can do is wrap your legs around him and take it.

An endless litany of half-formed phrases, come out of your lips, but each thrust knocks the air out of your lungs, so you settle for holding onto him as he threatens to overwhelm you. Above you, Paz groans as he rolls his hips into you, “I knew you’d be perfect---fuck-- knew it as soon as I saw you that night. Dig those nails into me sweetheart,” he says, releasing your hands, cutting through the haze in your mind and you obey, nails digging in to try to get some purchase on his back. “Fuck yeah that’s it, show me how much you like this,”.

You can feel his rhythm start to falter as he gets close, and you squeeze down on his cock as he pulls out. Paz sputters, “No, not yet, shit--” he says, reaching down again towards your clit, lips pressed onto yours again as he works you up higher and higher, over the edge.

“Please, may I cum please please Paz--” you moan into his mouth. Normally, you would just take what you can get and finish, but something about Paz makes you want to ask, to be granted permission and it’s a dangerous high filling your mind, washing away any sense of shame or guilt because all you can do right now is take what he gives you.

You can’t hear him say yes but rather feel him mouth the words against your cheek and vaguely you can hear him encouraging you as he continues the unrelenting pressure on your clit and inside your pussy. You gasp and the tension inside your body builds and builds, and you let go, letting your orgasm wash over you, arching your back, thankful for the blindfold to hide your eyes rolling back and all you can think about is how full and how good you feel stuffed with his cock inside and his fingers on your nerves.

As you come back to reality you can hear Paz curse, “Where do you want it?” he asks roughly.

You smile, giddy from your release, and in a moment of brilliance, you tell him “ I want it on my face...sir,”.

Paz chokes and his body seizes up at the sound of your words and he barely pulls out in time before spilling all over you, most of it landing on your chest and neck as he finishes on top of you. You preen under him, glad that your words have their desired effect, and your head falls back to catch your breath.

He kisses your ankles, broad hands running up and down your thighs in a soothing gesture as he also tries to regain his breath.

“Caught me off guard there,”

You smile at him, “I can be full of surprises,”.

Paz chuckles as he presses a kiss to your cheek before reaching around for his helmet. Once it’s on, he carefully removes the scarf from your eyes, thumbs brushing over your closed eyelids before pressing your forehead to his.

“I don’t doubt that at all.”

Taglist: @remmysbounty @starlite41

#the mandalorian #paz viszla #paz viszla x reader #paz vizla x reader #no shame in 2021 friends #((((gentle feedback and comments always appreciated))))#over your shoulder fic #mono writes

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withered-tears · 3 years ago

Note

Airachnid :D

Airachnid, ah yes, aka the character i always have to google how to type her name lhxkzkvzkgzjgz

Mmmm let's see, what would make a good crackship for her..

Okokoko, i think i got it,

Knockout.

Hear me out, before going batshit violent/ crazy, Airachnid's preferred method to get what she wants is her flirty nature, works pretty well in the nemesis.

Then she tries on Knockout, who is immediately offended by it.

"Excuse you? Did you just tried to flirt something out of me? Me? Darling have you seen me?"

Since then Knockout's goal in life is to interrupt all Airachnid's flirt attempts with his own, dialing it to eleven.

He's SO good at it, that by the end of it half the cons aboard become flushing stuttering messes as soon as Knockout enters the room, INCLUDING Airachnid, and she?? Absolutely? HATES IT?? Because HOW, thats her thing, thats her modus operandi, shes not the one whos supposed to end up blushing!!

So basically it becomes a constant back and fort out-flirting circle.

Everyone else ends up assuming they are a couple, and VERY vocal/enthusiasts about it.

Breakdown is just awkwardly in the middle of it all, just standing there in the med-bay like "plz dont start fucking in front of my salad me"

#transformers #tfp #transformers prime #Airachnid #knockout

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camdentown-library · 4 years ago

Text

Sigurd Styrbjornson || NSFW headcanons

Requested? Hey sweet thing! Just found you and rly like the way you write and the devotion you put into your works for such a small fandom! Keep up the good work!! I'm rly a big sap for Sigurd since playing acv and was wondering if you have time to write some nsfw headcanons for him. I thought you'd be the best one to turn to, since you've written about him so good the first time around!❣ Love you, wish you all the best - ingeniouscollectionthing🐍

Ok, let's start from the beginning. Sigurd is not always present at home, so your moments of pleasure could be marked in long and I mean long times of absence.

But perhaps it is this distance that makes your sex intense with emotions ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Sigurd is a bit of a prima donna, perhaps all of us have realized that slightly.

This guy really likes to be flattered and if he notices you missed him a lot in your life well...well he won't stop asking for attention.

During the banquet of his return, the young jarl cannot help but observe you in your every gesture, smiling greedy at your every smile exchanged with some sweet words together with your friends.

Sigurd has two methods of approach in this case:

In the first, if he is not too tired from the journey he could leave his throne empty and approach you and your friends vaguely. "Friends! I hope this party is to your liking, my heart fills with joy to see you again" and then his gaze would fall on you with a satisfied smile "Ah y/n, show yourself, you have grown a lot during my absence. If you were a flower, I would say that you are in full bloom" he would say gently taking your hand and making you twirl gently, thus being able to admire every single corner of your body.

"Allow me to show you the various riches I brought from distant lands, I have so much to tell you" he would propose smiling and as soon as he sees you nodding curiously, he would lick his lips spiced with mead. Oooh he had so many things to show you that night...

In the second, the young jarl turns into a ravenous predator to say the least, while he drinks his mead he would continue to observe you for the duration of the stick, until his gaze penetrates you deeply, making your eyes turn to his figure in the distance and causing you to lose heart. At that point you decide to "challenge the god among men" and slowly leaving the banquet hall you decide to head towards your home, wondering if Sigurd would have been bold enough to follow you, or maybe if all this was just the fruit of your mind.

But when you were by the door of your house the scent of Sigurd's spicy skin inebriated you, before feeling his lips kiss your neck from behind. "How much did you miss me?" he whispered in your ear at that point.

Sigurd is pretty romantic most of the time, other times he can be quite physical and hungry. SPOILER: Especially after his mind is split between Sigurd's will and Tyr's.

But let's start in small steps!

What could make Sigurd's sex drive grow? Well a fairly broad question. There are various reasons why this ginger-boy would like to grant his wild wishes with you: distance could be one of them, or when you demonstrate your wisdom or your skill in war strategy (if you're wondering, yes. Sigurd likes people with an open and bright mind), needless to say he might turning on when you sit on his lap while he tells you about one of his many adventures, or *drum roll* when you ask him to take you with him in his next travels, rest assured that the same night you will spend it making love as much as he is happy.

Unlike many Vikings, Sigurd is a refined man, he does not like having sex in open places or in places where you can be discovered. Being disturbed in this ritual could really, really make him nervous. He wants all your attention to be on him and he wants to focus solely on pleasing you.

Starting from this principle, we can therefore ascertain that our ginger-jarl does not like quickies. Absolutely NO

And we can guess that her sex sessions are very, very long. Sigurd is young and also has a powerful libido (Sigurd: BeCaUsE i Am A dEsCeNdAnT oF tHe GoDs!11!1!!!) Expect at least two rounds, that's the least of his demand, so take a seat.

Sigurd doesn't really have a preference between foreplay or "go straight to the point". In short, you can easily take all the time in the world for both of you, right?

He would love to kiss your forehead and cheek, then descend to your neck and fill it with a wet trail of kisses, while his ginger beard tickles your sensitive and delicate skin.

Kisses on the lips? Yes, but ... you have to deserve it. What do you mean? I repeat, Sigurd loves flattery, but he also loves to tease you, if he senses that you want to kiss him, he would start to smile blissfully and when he slowly brings his lips to yours, he would stop a few millimeters from them, observing amused, how close you try to they to kiss them as he walks away from you giggling.

"What's the magic word?" you answer with a simple "please" and in less than a second you can taste those lips so sweet and spicy.

Sigurd would love to gently caress your face with his knuckles with one hand during your make out session, or put his thumb on your lower lip, stroking it with a sensual way.

Another thing Sigurd loves is lying on the bed and watching you take off your clothes and when he sees you completely naked, he would smile as satisfied as a child at Christmas and by saying a tender "Come closer, my dear" he would place a hand around your hips and then kiss your soft abdomen, looking at you with dreamy eyes.

Does Sigurd have a size-kink? YES BRUH YES! listen to me, ok? This guy will be at least 187cm tall and I'm 100% sure. He loves to take you from behind, to observe how small you are in comparison to him, he would love to caress your fragile body with his wide hands and above all he would love to lower his torso towards you, and gently grabbing your face with one hand, he would guide you to turn it towards him to be able to kiss your lips intensely

Another position he likes is definitely the cowgirl, reversed or not. This especially when he loses an arm. But that doesn't mean it will leave you in full control over the pace of the thrusts. His firm hand on your hips or on your buttock will guide you when you need to speed up the pace or when you need to make it slower and more sensual.

Big No in the sexual sphere of Sigurd? Never and I say never deny him orgasm. No! You will only have him nervous and trust me, your little moment of pleasure would end instantly. Your task is also to satisfy him, if you cannot purge him of his stress, your physical relationship will certainly be a little difficult.

Does he like to give or receive? Both, Sigurd loves when you give him head, he loves to feel your hands caress his sculpted belly with his nails, while he dictates the rhythm of your lips, with one hand through your silky hair, he wouldn't make you choke, the the last thing he wants is to hurt you, what matters is that you both enjoy the moment.

And in giving? Oh ladies, make yourself comfortable! He loves being between your legs, he could die between them and he would show up in the Vlhalla saying he died with honor. He is a licensed tease, he loves to find your every weak point and pay attention to him by delighting in your sweet moans, and when he feels that you have reached a certain sensitivity, he would start fingering you with two fingers and no matter how much you tell him to stop, to slow down or otherwise, he will not stop until your legs shake exhausted and your moans are transmitted into small whimpers of pleasure.

Small note: when he finished eating you out, pls, put a hand under his chin and ask him to kiss you or praise him by saying "my jarl", you will drive him crazy from head to toe.

Does he like to overstimulate you? yes, 100%. He loves to be aware that only he can give you so much pleasure and love.

Angry sex? Nope, nope he usually sulks or argues with you, he doesn't like to physically vent his anger.

Jealous sex? yeah...but not often. I think he wouldn't do it at the exact moment he feels jealous. I believe that Sigurd is someone who keeps certain feelings inside and outsiders in due course. Maybe while you are having an intense sex session, he would put his mouth close to your circle and say "Tell me my dear, do you think that idiot who was desperately flirting with you, would she/he be able to love you like I do?"

Does he like to experiment? Lmao yes, i mean. I've always had this image in my head, of him saying "Love, look what I brought you from the far eastern lands?" and BOOM! He shows you a book where he shows various unknown positions or various ways of foreplay and with an amused smile he would ask you, "Will we try any?"

#assassin's creed #assassins creed #assassin's creed imagines #assassins creed imagines #assassin's creed imagine #assassins creed imagine #assassin's creed valhalla #assassins creed valhalla #assassin's creed valhalla imagines #assassin's creed valhalla imagine #assassins creed valhalla imagines #assassins creed valhalla imagine #headcanons #nfsw headcanons #sigurd styrbjornson #Sigurd

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scribble-blog · 5 years ago

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Black Cats and Robinettes part 3!!!!

Part 1 Part 2

“No.”

Marinette eyed her brother balefully, even as she stuck another pin into the sleeve she was working on. “I don’t see how this is any of your business.”

“You’re my little sister,” Dick lamented. “I feel that it is completely my business to veto your budding love life.”

“The love life you know of,” Marinette muttered, ignoring Dick’s yelp as she stuck him with a pin. “Can you leave it be?”

“Can you leave him be?” Dick mocked her, rubbing the spot where she’d pricked him.

“We’ve got more important things,” Marinette directed him to move, having him spin as her keen eyes watched. He did some light stretches to test the fabric, and she nodded. “Like, I don’t know, that hero Dad wants us to meet with?”

“Hero schmero,” Dick grinned. “What are the volatile superhero politics of a different country compared to the love life of Gotham’s sunshine princess? And what are you going to have Alfred cook up to woo him tomorrow night?”

“Had it not been for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered you,” She scowled, punching him. He just laughed in return.

———

Damian was not sitting on his bed mooning over Marinette Wayne.

No, Damian was staring out his window and mooning over Marinette Wayne. It was a small difference but it mattered, mostly because if he hadn’t been staring at the cloud cloaked sky and wondering if she had been flirting with him the rest of the day after her masterful takedown of Lila that had left the girl sobbing. She’d invited Adrien and Chloé, and him he supposed, to dine with her family the next night. She’d actually tried to include him in what could clearly have just been time for her to spend with her friends.

What did it mean??

Staring out the window was nice, a sobering reminder that even if anything could come from this, Marinette Wayne was still the rich, beautiful, girl who was regarded as the Princess of Gotham. And he lived in Paris.

And speaking of Paris, he caught the familiar movement of a red and a yellow suit, moving over the rooftops.

He couldn’t stop himself from standing up, a small intake of breath his only outward sign of surprise. Ladybug and Queen Bee? He watched them, spots and stripes, dart over a roof break, the streetlight filtering up and leaving them in stark definition.

“Plagg,” Damian said, and the Kwami looked up from where he had retreated when it seemed clear that he was just going to pine over a girl for the whole evening. “Do you know why Ladybug and Queen Bee are here?”

“Why should I know that?” Plagg snacked on another piece of Camembert. Damian made a face, incredibly glad he’d started putting Camembert in double ziplock bags to keep from smelling like it constantly. “I’m your kwami, not theirs.”

“Claws out, Plagg.”

It was a simple matter to climb out of the window, and throw himself to the rooftops using the staff.

He spotted them immediately, the familiar joking and banter that Queen Bee and Ladybug exhibited during battles easy to hear. But now, with them here, he honestly would have felt stupid if he hadn’t already known that there was magic that kept any casual comparisons from revealing their identities.

Of course, it was Adrien and Chloe. Of course it was his two friends. Out of all of the idiots in Paris, it had to be his two idiots who ran around in magical spandex fighting monsters with him.

There wasn’t any other explanation for why they would be in Gotham of all places. And if they were using the Horse Miraculous to return to Paris for akumas-

Damian scowled. And now they were going on a joy run around a city they had no business being in? If anyone else was able to make these connections like him-

“So,” a voice behind him interrupted his train of thought. “Are you just an opportunist in a cat costume trying to meddle in the Bat’s affairs? An amateur wannabe hero? Should I let Catwoman know she’s got a copycat running around Gotham?”

Damian spun. Behind him was a girl, shorter than him despite the clear platforms on the boots, dark green mask glinting in the low evening light.

“I thought capelets were out of fashion,” Damian said dumbly. The girl smirked at him.

“Well,” she shrugged, “It’s part of the Robin ensemble. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to deal with a full cape.” Her pose never faltered from battle-ready, despite her easy tone. “Now what’s a boy like you doing in a place like this?”

Damian spluttered. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” She nodded towards where Ladybug and Queen Bee had been, stepping forward, into his space. “You were following the two Parisian heroes. Don’t argue, I caught you at it. What do you want with them, catboy?”

Damian wished very desperately that his mask could keep him from blushing. Was there something wrong with him today? First Marinette Wayne, and now Robin? Batman’s partner? Why was he noticing how cute she was when he’d been pining after Marinette earlier? Was there something wrong with him?

“Well?” Robin challenged.

“I’m Chat Noir,” He started babbling. “I’m their partner too, but I didn’t know they were here in Gotham, and I’d prefer they didn’t-”

“Find out?” Robin grinned, backing away a step. “You scared they’ll be upset for the misunderstanding?”

Damian fought the urge to squirm under the blank white eyes of her mask. What to tell her? “They don’t know who I am, and I’d really rather not have to deal with revealing myself tonight.”

She leaned away, taken aback. “You don’t know who each other are? How do you get anything done?”

Damian laughed. “Honestly, we don’t. I’m thinking that’s probably why they’re here, isn’t it? To ask you and your group for help. That’s how you knew they were Parisian. They’re here to meet you.”

She finally dropped from her fighting-ready pose, tilting her head as she looked at him. “You’re pretty sharp. I wish I could trust you.”

And then she swung, and Damian jumped back automatically. She had a staff, an extendable one, and she knew how to use it. Before she could make another move, Damian swung himself out over the open street, dropping until his staff caught him, carrying him to the next rooftop over.

“I don’t want to fight you!” He yelled back at her. He could practically see the way she rolled her eyes. Honestly, if this had happened to him back in Paris, he couldn’t say he’d be any less suspicious than she was, but it was still annoying him that she couldn’t just take his word for it.

Which meant that he had three options, he reasoned as they stood off against each other, the river of traffic between and far below them. He could try to fight her and possibly incur the wrath of the rest of Gotham’s vigilantes, which, no. He could try to run away and transform back, and give up this whole outing before making his way back to the hotel. Or he could go after Chloe and Adrien, possibly reveal himself and them to the vigilantes they were meeting with, but prove to Robin that he really wasn’t just some masked asshole making the best of the rooftops that night.

He wanted to groan as he watched her pull out a grappling gun. And he decided that sometimes, retreat really was the better part of valor.

He leapt for the next rooftop, only to have her swing in front of him. He tried to course correct, but she managed to block him, leaving him lunging for the next roof.

He swerved the second he landed, immediately jumping again. He had super strength! It shouldn’t be hard to out distance her!

Except that whenever he thought he’d managed to get out of her sight, she’d corner him again.

Finally, he realized mid leap that she wasn’t trying to catch him. In fact, she was barey trying to chase him.

No, she was corralling him somewhere. He sprang from the edge, to another, and found out where she’d been forcing him.

“Chat?”

“Chat?!”

Ladybug and Queen Bee were waiting there, along with two other masked individuals. Damian didn’t scowl when he heard Robin’s landing behind him, but it was a close thing.

“Oh my god,” one of the others whispered. “We have to tell Catwoman. It’s fucking genetic.”

“Shhhh,” the taller hushed. “Robin. I take it this is Chat Noir?”

“Yes,” Ladybug answered for him, green eyes burning into his. “Glad you made it, Chat.”

Ah. Okay. Damian could put off talking to them until later then. Thank god. But he turned back to Robin, one brow raised. “Good enough for you?”

“Oh,” Robin grinned, and despite being named for a bird, she looked like the cat that caught the canary. “What do you think we are? I’ve known you weren’t lying the whole time. Welcome to Gotham, Chat Noir.”

Her teasing smile made his heart stutter. He might honestly have gone a bit weak in the knees.

Gotham was trying to kill him, he realized. And it’s chosen method was flirty dark-haired girls who were out of his league and far more trouble than he thought.

TAGLIST:

@silverwhiteraven

@ash-amg @vixen-uchiha @redscarlet95 @dramatic-squirrel @athena452 @novaloptr @bee-wrecker @constancetruggle @pr-y-sha

@thestressmademedoit @noirdots @ranger-gothamite @the-fair-maiden-of-fandom @zalladane @mewwitch @mochegato @justafanwarrior @catcusxx @indecisive-mess-named-me @resignedcatservant @marinettepotterandplagg @myazael @mochinek0 @shizukiryuu @fancandi @fusser90 @loveswifi @gm-nasai @peachedpocky @danielslilangel @whatthefox22 @jardimazul @ladybug-182 @schrodingers25 @karategirl119 @smolplantmum @maribat-is-lifeblood @thebookwormfairy @sassakitty @area51qt @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @amayakans @dast218 @myvividreams @dorkus-minimus @alexandriamw @elmokingkong @tis-i-beanbandit

#maribat #daminette #daminette role reversal #black cats and robinettes #fanfic #OH BOY DAMIAN youre really in it now huh #the other two are Tim and Dick jsyk #back in the hotel room after...#Adrien: what the FUCK is Chat doing here #Chloe: oh no I've known Damian was Chat Noir almost as long as I knew you were Ladybug #Adrien: WHAT

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quickspinner · 5 years ago

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Triple Threat

Here it is, the 500 followers special, posted hot off the presses as promised because not only did I hit 500 followers before the poll even closed, I’m now at 520! My mind is blown. Thank you all for sticking around this little corner of the lukanette trash heap and especially for all your replies/comments/reblogs, I covet every single one.

So you guys voted and you wanted to see Multimouse flirting with Viperion, and Marinette flirting with Viperion was a very close runner up, so I decided to do both, and I threw in a little Viperbug flirting for you just because I love you. So I hope you enjoy, and extra love to @livrever for giving me a sanity check when I needed it because y’all, I love you so much I wrote an akuma for you and even though most of the battle happened off-screen I still wasn’t sure whether the whole thing would hang together or not.

I hate long author’s notes and this one is already wordy, but I just want to say again, thank you for being here and I appreciate all 520 of you that are here now and everyone who stumbles on this in the future.

“Stupid Chat,” Ladybug muttered to herself between swings. “Stupid, overprotective Chat, making everything more complicated than it needs to be because of this stupid identity bullshit again and why am I still keeping up this ridiculousness now that Master Fu’s gone I have no idea…”

She ought to be grateful, she knew. Later, she would be touched by Chat’s affection and protectiveness towards her civilian self, but right now it was just a pain in her red-and-black spotted ass. Fortunately, the akuma knew her name but not much else about her, which meant Chat was able to fool it into following him on a wild goose chase to buy Ladybug time to get help that they didn’t actually need but whatever.

But it was fine. This was fine. She had a plan. In the three years that she’d been Ladybug she’d gotten very good at thinking on her feet. She tried not to call on Viperion too often, because it seemed like a bad idea to muck around with time too much, but the fact was, his power was both incredibly useful and incredibly reassuring for her.

And, either because Luka was older or perhaps because he was simply more mature than the rest of the team, he’d been the first to push his powers past his original time limit, and he still had the longest time limit on the team, though he wasn’t anywhere near the unlimited time that supposedly came with being “an adult.” Marinette had questioned Tikki about that, whether it was a question of physical maturity or mental maturity or both, but it turned out that questioning a being as old as Tikki about the minutiae of human growth was...frustrating. Tikki’s concept of time was colored by her nearly-eternal perspective, and the markers of adulthood changed and shifted over the centuries.

In any case, second chances were all too scarce in her life and it was only the knowledge that all magic had a price and the fear that there had to be a catch somewhere kept her from calling on it more frequently.

Seeing the Captain and Juleka both on deck, Ladybug crouched on the bank and squinted. It looked like Juleka and Luka’s room was empty, so she should be able to just slip through the porthole if she timed it right.

Well, regardless of whatever method the Miraculous used to measure adultness, Marinette thought as she made her way through the porthole with some Miraculous-aided acrobatics, Luka had matured in the three years they’d known each other both mentally, and...and physically...oh dear. Ladybug gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth, which did absolutely nothing to salvage the situation, since her eyes were still wide and staring.

Luka was standing in the doorway in his boxers, hair dripping into the towel around his shoulders, a faint blush growing on his face. “Ladybug. I wasn’t expecting you. Obviously.”

Ladybug yelped and turned her back, this time slapping her hands over her eyes, though too late to do either of them any good. “I’m sorry!” Ladybug cried. “I just—your family was on deck and I didn’t want anyone to see me coming in and the room was empty so I thought I could just—but I didn’t expect you to—“‘

“It’s fine,” Luka chuckled weakly, and she could hear him moving around behind her. “Nothing you wouldn’t see at the beach. Living in a house full of girls I don’t actually make it a practice to run around naked. You can look now.”

“Good. Sound policy,” Ladybug managed, like she wasn’t dying of embarrassment. She dropped her hands and turned around and then bit the inside of her cheek to keep in another scream. He had his jeans on now but he was still digging through a pile of shirts on the end of his bed and she was staring at his bare back. Which wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before, really, but only when she was prepared and had Alya to smack her if she started...staring. Not ogling. Definitely not.

“I’m assuming you need me for something?” he prompted, glancing over his shoulder.

“Yes! Uh…” Ladybug shook herself back to reality and outlined the situation. How there had been a big design contest this week and one of the losers was taking it badly and had it out for the winner, a girl named—

“Marinette?” Luka turned to look at her sharply, now fully clothed (which, it turned out, helped less than it should have since knowing what he looked like under the shirt made her more than able to trace the lines his body made in it NOT THAT SHE WAS OH GOD) “Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

“Ah, yes,” Ladybug said, surprised enough to be shocked out of her absolutely-not-ogling. “You, um...know her?”

“Yes, of course I do. If Marinette’s in trouble, I’ll do anything you need,” Luka declared, a fire in his eyes that almost made her step back. Ladybug paused and studied him for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Can you do this, Luka?” Ladybug asked, folding her arms. “The last thing I need is to suddenly be facing an akumatized Viperion with time reset powers. I know you guys are friends but if you’re more than that I need to know now.” What was she doing? It was a good thing she was still blushing from earlier. Why was she asking this, she knew he was over her, she was like a little sister to him and—wait, was he blushing?

Luka looked away, but she was sure she saw red in his face. “We’re just friends,” he said softly. “Even if I sometimes wish we were more.” He glanced at her, and his blush deepened as he dropped his eyes again. “Maybe more than sometimes. I can do this, Ladybug. I won’t let my feelings for Marinette interfere. I promise.” He gave a lopsided smile. “I’ve gotten pretty good at keeping a lid on it.”

“Oh,” Ladybug blinked. “I see.” She...wasn’t as surprised as she should be. Luka had never really made a secret of his feelings, but even if she hadn’t quite believed herself every time she told herself he was over her, she hadn’t expected him to be so...passionate about it. Especially after all this time. Especially after everything that had happened. “Well—well okay, if you think you can do this then I trust you.” She held out the box.

Luka took the bracelet, greeted Sass briefly and transformed as Ladybug continued her instructions.

“I wanted to just hide Marinette but Chat thinks she needs more protection. He’s distracting the akuma now. You pick Marinette up at her home and keep her with you. Obviously, you’ll use Second Chance to keep her safe, but it might also take a few tries for Rena to get the illusion right, so you’ll also need to be in position to observe and report.” She couldn’t help a smile, feeling a rush of affection as the familiar green eyes blinked back at her. “I trust your judgement, so I’m not going to micromanage you; figure out what works and do it. Here’s the catch, though.” She folded her arms. “I won’t be there. I can’t explain to you why. Once the akuma’s focus is off Marinette, take her home, and proceed to Phase Two.” She continued giving him instructions and he listened attentively, asking only a few questions.

Luka nodded as she finished. “I won’t let you down,” he said firmly.

“You never have,” Ladybug smiled, and Luka looked...flattered? Almost shy. And that was kind of weird. Luka was reserved, sure, but never shy.

People did seem to find Ladybug intimidating, though. And it was kind of...cute. “You know,” she found herself saying as she strolled closer to him. “I think this Marinette girl’s awfully lucky to have caught your eye. I’m sure she’ll appreciate your help. I know I do.” Ladybug gave him a slow smile. She reached up and touched his mask with two fingers. Viperion’s eyes widened slightly. “I think I prefer blue eyes to green though.”

“Me too,” he said almost absently, searching her face, and she thought she saw a hint of color just below the line of his mask. That made her smile wider.

“It’s a bit of a complicated plan today, but I think you can handle it. Good luck.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek, and before Luka could react, she dove out of the porthole, yo-yo catching just in time to send her skimming away above the water.

Luka—Viperion, now—swallowed hard, swaying slightly in place. Because it was a plain fact that Ladybug was hot, as well as strong, smart as a whip, and tough as nails. All things that very much appealed to him, even if his heart was still given elsewhere, and he...didn’t quite know what to do with the last few minutes.

Viperion shook himself. He had more important things to worry about.

...Starting with how to leave the boat without being seen by his family. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Ladybug had caught him off guard this morning, and between having just woken up and running into Ladybug in his underwear—not to mention whatever that was just now—he was feeling a little off balance. It should have occurred to him to wait until he was off the boat to transform.

Well, he’d figure something out. It sounded like his job was simple enough. He wasn’t super happy about having Marinette actually at the battle site, but he could see Chat’s point; it was the only way they knew she was absolutely protected and the akuma couldn’t pull a double-fake on them to come back for her. It had happened before. Hanging back with him, Marinette would be as protected as possible, out of sight of the villain to keep her from accidentally interfering with Rena’s illusion, with Second Chance as a backup if something went wrong.

Somehow, he just had to try and not be too Luka around Marinette. Best to keep things chill and aloof if he could, he supposed.

Viperion could see her on her balcony as he approached, that would help. His last leap took him soaring in a flip to land on her balcony railing with a bit more show than was probably necessary.

“Marinette?” he smiled. “Nice to meet you. Ladybug told you to expect me, I hope?”

“Wow,” Marinette breathed, blinking up at him. “She said she was sending someone but not who. You’re...you’re Viperion, right?” Her big blue eyes were round in her face. “You’re like—the most mysterious of all the heroes. You’re hardly ever on the Ladyblog.”

“Not mysterious, just...quiet,” Viperion smiled with a shrug, feeling a little warm suddenly beneath his mask as he hopped off the rail. “I’m not really a front line fighter like Chat. I do my best work behind the scenes.”

“Really? But you’re so strong—” Marinette’s eyes traveled down his body, rather blatantly checking him out. “Wow,” she breathed. “I thought the suit was just armored, but that’s actually you.”

Viperion shifted a little uncomfortably under her gaze. Not that he minded, just...it was Marinette and she’d never looked at him like that before and...he kinda liked it.

Okay, he really liked it.

But Ladybug was counting on him to be professional.

Viperion cleared his throat. “Did Ladybug brief you on the plan?”

Marinette nodded, still studying him though her expression turned serious. “Yes. I’m supposed to stick to you like glue and follow any orders you give.”

Viperion nodded. “We’ll be out of the main battle so you shouldn’t be in any danger, but that last part is really important. You’re a smart girl though so I’m not worried.” Much. He offered her a hand. “We should go so we’re in place before Chat gets there.”

Marinette met his eyes and—shit, there went his traitor heart, suddenly galloping a mile a minute. Help me out here, Sass, he thought desperately, but his pulse continued to pound as Marinette put her hand in his and smiled up at him. Shyly, but also...mischievously? Her lips twitched just slightly, like they wanted to twist in a smirk, and crap why was he even looking at her lips, look away, Luka.

If she smirked at him now he’d never be able to keep his cool.

Taking a deep breath and hoping against hope that he wasn’t blushing too obviously, he tugged her closer to him and dropped her hand to put his on her back. “May I?” he asked, and when she nodded he lifted Marinette in his arms and settled her close against him, making sure he had a firm grip. She put one arm around his neck but ran her other hand across his chest, firm enough for him to feel the pressure even through the suit. His breath caught as she exclaimed “Cool! The material’s so different from Chat’s. Neat texture.” Her tone turned flirtatious. “Fits you really well too.”

“Ah—” He couldn’t think.

“Sorry,” she said, glancing up at him and looking not sorry at all. “I’m a fashion designer. You’re—inspiring.” She used the arm around his neck to pull herself up to look in his face, and he had to adjust his grip quickly. “I have to tell you I love your mask.” And there was the smirk, even more devastating at close range as she ran her fingertips along the bottom of his mask.

Viperion felt dizzy as she settled back again with a cheerful, “Ready when you are!”

***

She wouldn’t stop touching him. Tracing the lines of his suit where the different materials met, outlining the yellow diamond on his chest with one finger, not-so-subtly feeling up his arm…

Chill and aloof was obviously not going to be an option, he admitted to himself. He needed a new plan.

When her fingers traced his collar, actually brushed his skin at the hollow of his throat, he stumbled and nearly dropped her, landing hard on his knees.

“Are you okay?” she gasped, snatching her hand back guiltily.

“I’m fine.” Viperion sighed and set her down, getting to his feet and brushing off his knees before turning to face her, trying to figure out how to say what he needed to say without hurting her feelings.

He thought he understood what was going on. Marinette was always under a huge amount of stress. Pretty as she was, she didn’t get out much, and probably didn’t get to do a lot of flirting. She wouldn’t flirt with him—Luka him—because she knew he had feelings for her and she worried about leading him on. She couldn’t flirt with Adrien, partly because he was dating her friend and largely because she could still barely speak a coherent word to him.

As Viperion, he was a safe option. Marinette spent too much time lonely and sad. As far as she was concerned, she’d only just met Viperion, and when the mission was over he would disappear. She didn’t have to follow through on anything she said to him. Nothing she did raised any expectations. She didn’t have to worry about leading him on or breaking his heart. The situation must be frustrating for her. She was a doer. Being a spectator at best and a victim at worst in this situation, it made total sense that she would need something else to think about and focus on, a chance to blow off a little steam without consequences.

And honestly, Luka was fine with indulging her. It fed his ego that she found him attractive enough to flirt with, even tease, but more importantly, if he could make Marinette happy, he wanted to. If he could make her feel pretty and valued and wanted, like the attractive young woman she was but never seemed to have time to be, then he wanted to, even if he had to wear a mask.

There was just one little problem.

“Marinette,” he said, as gently as he could, “I get that you’re interested in the suit and I’m more happy to let you look at it, but first I’d like to get us where we’re going without faceplanting us both into the pavement, okay?”

“Right,” Marinette said, looking horrified and completely embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I should have known better, if course you’re a professional and I’m being horrible, aren’t I, making you uncomfortable when you’re just trying to do your job—“

Well, that wouldn’t do. He placed two fingers over her lips.

“Don’t be sorry,” he told her when she stopped talking, and chucked her under the chin gently. “I don’t mind you touching me at all. In fact—“ he leaned into her space, just a little. “I like it. Certainly worse things than having a hot girl put her hands on me, even if it’s just for the suit.” He gave her an appreciative look and a wink and had the satisfaction of seeing her blush. “I just don’t want you to be hurt. Ladybug’s counting on me to keep you safe after all.”

He could see instantly that it was the wrong thing to say, though he couldn’t fathom why. The color creeping up her face drained away and her smile turned plastic.

“Right,” Marinette said cheerfully, but the sound was hollow. “Wouldn’t want to let Ladybug down.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Vierion repeated, putting his hand on her shoulder, all playfulness gone as he hunched slightly to look into her face. “Ever, but definitely not on my watch. Marinette, it would kill me if anything happened to you because I was distracted. And you can be…” He gave her a lopsided grin and a quick up and down look. “Very distracting.”

She hunched her shoulders slightly, blushing, in a way that took him back to another time when he’d felt the urgent need to tell her how important she was. “I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said warmly, squeezing her shoulder before letting go. “You can check out the suit as much as you want when we get where we’re going.”

“Right,” she breathed as he picked her up again. She put her arms around his neck and tucked her head down, pressing her eyes against his neck. “Because it was totally all about the suit.”

Viperion chuckled. “You can check me out too if you want, I don’t mind.”

He cradled her a little tighter as he ran, aware his heart was pounding from more than the run.

***

“There you go, Marinette. We made it.” Viperion let her feet drop, keeping his arm around her back. Marinette slid down his body until her feet touched the ground, her arms still around his neck. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Rena Rouge,” he added, gesturing at the hero in question. “Rena, Marinette.”

“Hi,” Marinette said, sliding around to his side as she hunched her shoulders and waved with an awkward smile. “Um, sorry about all the trouble here.”

“It’s not your fault, Marinette,” Viperion said warmly, squeezing her against his side before Rena could even speak.

Rena was looking at them with raised eyebrows. “You two are certainly...friendly,” she commented.

“Are we?” Viperion said, lips twitching with the effort not to laugh as he looked down at Marinette still pressed against his side. “Sorry if I’m being too familiar,” he told her insincerely. She covered a giggle herself as he continued, “It’s just, well.” He gave Marinette a sly grin and a wink. “Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng is a bit of a mouthful.”

She looked up at him with a wicked twinkle in her pretty eyes. “I think you could handle it.”

He had to look away for just a moment before he could keep a straight face as he told her in a low voice, “I’d certainly try if you wanted me to.” Marinette giggled again behind her hand.

Rena’s eyebrows looked likely to shoot off her head entirely. “Well, it certainly seems like there’s something going on here that I missed.”

“You didn’t miss anything,” Viperion shrugged as Marinette unplastered herself from his side and wrapped her hands around his bicep instead.

Probably fortunately, Chat showed up right then and ran through the plan again. Marinette continued clinging to Viperion’s arm throughout the briefing, which got looks from both Rena and Chat, but Viperion’s face remained impassive.

“Don’t get distracted,” Chat warned him before leaping away.

Marinette snorted softly. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Viperion coughed to cover an embarrassed laugh.

“Looks like it’s just you and me now,” he remarked.

Marinette perked up a little bit, squeezing his arm. “Do you work out? Or is it just part of being a hero? Do magic muscles come with the suit?”

Viperion laughed as he reached back for his lyre and shook his earpiece out of its compartment. “A little more strength, yeah, but no extra magic muscles. Let’s just say I lead an active lifestyle.”

“One that includes a lot of time in the sun,” Marinette giggled, reaching up to touch his cheek. “You’re pretty tanned. You definitely didn’t get that from being a hero.”

“Kind of hard to sunbathe in the suit,” Viperion agreed, running a finger along the edge of his mask. “Leaves awkward tan lines.”

Marinette buried her face in his shoulder to muffle her laugh. “So the tan goes all the way down then?” she asked, when she could.

Viperion smirked at her. “Yep. All the way.” Marinette turned red and sputtered, and he looked away, grinning as he slipped his earpiece into place. Went a little further than you meant to, didn’t you? he thought with amusement. Too bad for you Couffaines have no shame. “Chat, Rena, do you read me?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Gotcha, Scales.”

“Let me know when you’re in position,” he said, and then movement caught his eye.

“Akuma,” he said urgently, growing serious at once. He put his arm out to move Marinette behind him, and felt her hands on his back as she moved close. “Here we go,” he said grimly. “Second Chance.” He slid the snake head back and touched his communicator. “Chat, Rena, she’s here. Checkpoint set. Round one.”

Marinette’s hands moved over his back and down to his sides, and he sucked in a breath as they slid up the smoother texture of the darker panels on his side. “This part is kind of like Chat’s suit,” she murmured. “But this part must be armored,” she ran her hands forward over the ridged teal armor over his belly.

Dear God, what had he gotten himself into?

She must have noticed his tension. “You said I could touch you,” she reminded him.

He had to swallow before he could answer. “I did.”

“Did you change your mind?”

Luka closed his eyes for a moment. He’d always known she was attracted to him but it wasn’t a thought he normally allowed himself to indulge in much. It just made knowing she didn’t actually want him worse. If he wanted to back out, now was the time. “No,” he said finally. “It’s okay.”

Viperion drew back slightly as the akuma passed by below them. He felt Marinette peek over his shoulder.

“Oh, she’s scary,” Marinette whispered, and pressed her face into the back of his neck. “You’re sure you can’t see us?”

He turned his head toward her for just a moment and leaned it on hers. “It’s fine, we’re out of sight. Don’t be scared, we’re all here to protect you.”

“I know,” she said softly. “I’m not scared if I’m with you.”

He had to shift his position to cover the shiver that sent through him. The akuma was past them now and Rena was casting her illusion.

She ran her fingers through the tips of his hair at the nape of his neck. “Your hair’s so soft. Guess a Miraculous dye job will do that, huh?”

Oh, that felt amazing, but Viperion could see the akuma shriek and begin to flee. “Second Chance,” he breathed. A flash of white, and then he gave his debrief over the comm so that Rena could adjust her illusion. Then Marinette’s hands were sliding up his sides again.

It took nine resets before Rena got her illusion refined enough to fool the Akuma into thinking she’d gotten her revenge on Marinette and for Chat to successfully lure her away. Nine times he recounted the battle over the comms and suggested changes.

Nine times he’d steadfastly kept his attention on the akuma while he let Marinette run her hands over his sides, up his belly and chest. Nine times he felt her press her face to the back of his neck and rest her cheek on his back while she toyed with his hair. He knew every line of her teasing by heart. His own varied, partially depending on his own sense of whether he was going to have to reset again. The only reason he hadn’t just given in and kissed her (or tackled her to the floor, if he was honest) was the combined knowledge that his friends were still in harm's way and that Sass would give him a lecture about the responsibilities that came with time powers.

He was maybe wound a little bit tight by the time he took her home.

“Well,” he said, setting her down on her balcony. “Here we are, beautiful. Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?” she asked, not unhooking her arms from around his neck.

“I’ve never enjoyed an akuma battle so much,” he told her, voice low, one hand sliding onto her hip while the other gripped the railing behind him in a desperate attempt to ground himself before he did something stupid. “Whoever catches your heart will be one lucky guy.”

“Thanks for being my hero today,” she smiled up at him through her lashes, a pretty pink tinting her cheeks the only warning he got that she was about to wreck him again. “I think a kiss is the traditional reward?”

“I don’t hold with those kinds of traditions,” he said a little roughly, hand tightening on the rail behind him. “But if you want to kiss me, I’m not about to say no.”

“If I do, are you going to kiss me back?” she asked, and though her tone was teasing her eyes were anxious.

Viperion hummed thoughtfully, the hand on her hip sliding around to press into her lower back, pulling her closer. “I guess that’s just a chance you’ll have to take. If you decide you want to.”

“I want to,” she breathed, and he bent down until his forehead touched hers, eyes on hers the whole time. He felt her breath hitch and closed his eyes, waiting, as always, for her to choose, and trying to pretend his heart wasn’t racing just at the thought.

Her fingertips touched his cheek, hesitating, and then her palm fitted itself to the curve. It occurred to him to be glad he’d had time to shave before Ladybug showed up. He did kiss her back and she grew more confident, pressing into him, and the next thing he knew her hands were in his hair and her tongue was in his mouth and he made an extremely unheroic noise even as his arms wrapped around her and pulled her up into him.

Viperion’s bracelet beeped and he felt Marinette sigh as she pulled back from him. “That means you have to go, right?”

“I, um,” he blinked as she began to back away from him and his hands slid from her back to her arms, and then to her hands, which softly squeezed before letting go completely.

“Please be safe, Viperion,” she said, her brow creasing as she undoubtedly remembered that he still had an akuma to defeat. Viperion swallowed and shook his head quickly, mustering a Chat-worthy grin that was entirely fake.

“Don’t worry,” he winked. “That Akuma’s not even close to being the most dangerous thing I’ve been around today. I’ll be fine. Go inside now and stay there until Ladybug does her thing, okay?” Viperion turned away quickly, pulling in a deep breath before he vaulted over the balcony railing.

***

His bracelet beeped a final warning about three rooftops later. He quickly found a place in the shadow of the building’s roof entry hutch and put his back against the wall. His transformation released and he met Sass’s highly amused eyes before he put his hands on his face and slid to the ground with a muffled whine.

Sass’s hissing laughter was deeply unhelpful.

“Sass,” Luka said from behind his hands. “What the hell was that?”

“At a guess,” Sass replied, smirking—Luka didn’t have to look at him to know it—“Hormonesss.”

Luka slid his hands down to glare at Sass over his fingers. “That’s your input? Ladybug and Marinette both decide to try and make me combust today and the best you’ve got is hormones?”

Sass laughed at him again and Luka groaned.

“What do you wissssh me to sssay?” the kwami chuckled. “I have myssself heard Ladybug refer to Viperion as a ‘ssssnack.’ I don’t sssee any reason Marinette should think differently. Unless I mistake the meaning of the word in this contexsst, that should be ssssufficient anssswer.” He flicked his tail. “Ssssspeaking of which.”

Luka groaned. “I could have lived without knowing that, thanks.” He pulled the little baggie full of chopped hardboiled egg out of his pocket and tossed it to the kwami without even looking. “Eat fast, we have to go meet Ladybug’s other contact.”

Sass just chuckled and pulled the bag open.

***

She didn’t have a lot of time, she was on a schedule, but Marinette couldn’t resist throwing herself on her bed and squealing into her pillow. Then she rolled over onto her back. “I can’t believe I did all that,” she gasped, fingers flying to her lips “What’s wrong with me?”

Tikki floated nearby, giggling. “You like Luka, Marinette, you know you do. I think you just felt a little bit bolder knowing he was wearing the mask.” She flew close and poked Marinette’s cheek. “Was it everything you thought it would be.”

Tikki zipped back quickly as Marinette pulled her pillow back over her red face and squealed into it again. She never thought she would be bold enough to do such things, but...but it felt good. And Luka...he’d been thrown at first, clearly, but then he’d rolled with it, because Luka was super good at rolling with things, even, apparently, if those things included her touching him and teasing him and flirting and trading innuendo she never could have spoken to his unmasked face.

Would it...be like that? If it wasn’t Marinette and Viperion, but Marinette and Luka, and they were in a relationship, is that...is that how it would feel? Not awkward and embarrassing, but...fun and teasing and exciting. Was that how it felt when you liked someone who liked you back? Would he look at her like that every day with those soft eyes, and talk to her in that warm, low voice, and stand with his arm around her, pulling her close into his side, and...and let her kiss him like that...or maybe kiss her like—

She felt Tikki land on her head and pat her hair. “Come on Marinette! You’d better get ready for the next part. You don’t want to keep Viperion waiting,” she finished in a singsong.

“Right,” Marinette sighed. She got off her bed and pulled the Miracle Box out from under it. As soon as it opened, she picked up the mouse Miraculous and weighed it thoughtfully in her hand. It had been a couple of years since Multimouse’s last appearance. Surely she was safe to try it again. Mylène had done a great job with it but she was out of the country on one of her eco projects for the moment, so it was up to Marinette.

Not that she minded the chance to work with Viperion a little longer. Not that she minded at all.

Marinette put on the necklace and smiled at Mullo, eyes sparkling. Moments later, she was leaping off her balcony in the familiar pink and grey suit, on her way to meet Viperion, her heart beating with anticipation.

***

Viperion was leaning against a wall, idly strumming his lyre and daydreaming about Marinette, when his mission partner hit the roof and rolled to her feet. It took him a moment to totally focus on her but when he did it took all of his natural stoicism to keep his jaw from dropping.

That...was not the mouse he expected.

Holy shit.

Until today, Luka would have denied that he had a type, but God. Clearly he was weak for tiny blue-eyed dynamos with dark hair. He’d never seen eyes that could kill like that except on Marinette. Her suit was fitted like Ladybug’s rather than padded and armored like his or Chat’s or Carpace’s, or flared like Rena’s. While all the boys had gotten used to seeing, or avoiding seeing, Ladybug’s curves in the suit, Viperion suddenly realized that the red and black spotted pattern did a much better job of distracting from the more subtle lines of her body, and the new mouse’s light grey suit...did not.

She cleared her throat, and he realized that he was staring at her abs and straightened off the wall, tucking his lyre away.

“Sorry, I was expecting someone else,” he said as smoothly as he could, offering his hand. “Viperion.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said brightly, shaking his hand and then planting one hand on her cocked hip and saluting with the other. “I’m afraid your regularly scheduled mouse couldn’t be here today, so I’m Multimouse, at your service.” She winked one big blue eye and Viperion’s knees went weak.

He decided he was taking a very long, very cold shower when he got home. Assuming he survived. The universe really had it in for him today.

Well it’s a hell of a way to go, he thought to himself, taking a steadying breath.

“Happy to work with you,” Viperion smiled. “I’m sure Ladybug briefed you on the plan, any questions?”

“Plenty,” she grinned with another devastating wink. “But we’re supposed to be working.”

Viperion folded his arms and smirked despite the heat he felt in his face. “I’m almost afraid to ask if there’s anything I should know.”

“Just follow my lead, handsome,” she grinned, turning away as she unlooped her jump rope belt with an entirely unnecessary swing of her hips. “Think you can do that?”

Oh, Mousey was a flirt. He grinned. “I’ll certainly enjoy trying,” he murmured, quiet enough that she could ignore it if she chose.

Instead Multimouse looked back at him over her shoulder with a mischievous smile. “I know you’ve had a long day already, so just let me know if you get tired.”

Viperion chuckled. “I think I’m getting my second wind,” he winked. “By all means, after you.”

“Catch me if you can, handsome!” Multimouse swung from the building and Viperion took a running leap after her.

Multimouse led him to a warehouse, and after he smashed the lock, they slipped inside. It was deserted and Chat was supposed to be keeping the akuma occupied and after his ring, but there was no harm in being cautious. “You’re a handy partner to have,” Multimouse said, looping one arm through his. “This plan shouldn’t be difficult at all.”

“Ladybug did the hard work,” Viperion commented. “I’m just the muscle today. Have to hand it to her, she’s got a mind like a steel trap.”

“Ooh, watch your phrasing,” Multimouse winced, swinging her hip into him. “Remember your company, handsome.”

“Sorry,” Viperion chuckled. “You’re right, poor choice of words.”

“If you’re nice for the rest of the mission maybe I’ll let you make it up to me,” Multimouse teased, fingers curling around his bicep. “Hmm, Ladybug knew what she was doing.”

Viperion plucked her hand off him. “Don’t do that, please.”

“Oh,” her eyes widened slightly, the first sign of hesitancy he’d seen from her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” Viiperion told her, squeezing the hand he was still holding before letting go. “I’d just rather we keep this hands off, if you don’t mind. No hard feelings.”

“Sure,” Multimouse perked up again, though he thought he saw a hint of pink under her mask.

“Can’t say I mind being on pretty girl detail for the day,” he said lightly, hoping to put her back at ease. “Where to, ma’am? I’m supposed to follow your lead.”

“This way,” Multimouse tugged him towards a corridor. “The akuma victim rents a space back here to use for her studio. Ladybug wants us to get there, take a look around, and see if we can get the akumatized item. She thinks it’s probably boobytrapped, so that’s where I come in. You’ll set second chance before I go just in case anything goes wrong.”

Viperion followed her and they started slowly down the long, echoey hallway. So much for stealth, he thought, wincing slightly. Multimouse must have thought so too because while she kept her alert posture, she smiled back at him and said, “So, did you know that you came up second on the Ladyblog’s Hottest Hero: Male Edition survey?”

Viperion chuckled awkwardly, trying not to blush. “Chat’s hard to compete with,” he replied with a crooked smile.

“You were robbed, if you ask me,” Multimouse said in a conversational tone, winking at him when he glanced over at her. She really needs to stop doing that. He swallowed and took a slow breath before he answered her. He had a feeling he was going to be doing a lot of belly breathing today.

“Everybody has their own taste,” Viperion shrugged. “Guess not everybody goes for ‘mysterious, aloof, and quiet.’”

“You read your own profile?” Multimouse giggled.

“I was curious,” he grinned. “Haven’t you read yours?”

“Don’t have one,” Multimouse held up her hands and pretended to pout. “I’m so overlooked.”

“I can’t imagine anyone overlooking you.”

“Ooh, flatterer,” she giggled, and then sobered. “This is actually only my second time out. The first time was years ago and it didn’t end so great.”

“Really? That surprises me. You seem so natural,” Viperion said, following her down the corridor.

“Why thank you,” Multimouse grinned over her shoulder at him, and his heart skipped a beat.

Marinette, he reminded himself firmly, although she technically had no claim on him and he certainly had none on her. He blew out another breath, and then inhaled deeply—and abruptly wrinkled his nose. “Fabric dye,” he muttered. He’d been over to Marinette’s once while she was dying fabric and even with her windows open the smell had driven him up to her balcony.

“Yes, this is the place,” Multimouse confirmed. She opened the door a crack and peeked inside, and Viperion readied himself to jerk her back in case of any unexpected surprises. “You don’t have to go any further,” she said, her flirtatious air gone and replaced with an intense focus that impressed him. “I know you hate the smell. Multitude!”

Viperion looked at her sharply but was blinded by the light of her power activating. He took a step back as she glowed brightly, and when he could see again, his partner was gone. He looked down to see the Multimice grinning up at him. One of them waved him down. Viperion knelt and put his hand down. One of the Multimice climbed onto his palm and he lifted her to his face. “I’ll stay with you,” she said cheerfully, hands on her hips. “Wouldn’t want you to get lonely.”

Viperion chuckled. “Welcome aboard.” He brought his hand up to his shoulder and the Multimouse hopped up.

“The rest of me will go scout and report back,” she said, and then pointed to his bracelet. “If you could?”

“Second Chance.” Viperion slid the bracelet back.

The Multimice still on the floor blew him a kiss in unison, and then ran off in different directions. Viperion couldn’t help a smile, though he directed it at the ground. She—they? were really too cute.

“So,” Multimouse said, reclining on her side along his shoulder and propping her face on one hand, “Just you and me now. Does my handsome partner have a girlfriend?”

“No girlfriend,” he sighed, a wistful smile taking over his face. “Just a girl. One amazing girl. You’re cute, Mousey, and I’m sure you’ve got a style of amazing all your own, but my girl...she’s not my girl, she doesn’t like me that way, but...anyway, there’s no one like her. Not even Ladybug.” He looked at her and she jumped, shutting her mouth quickly and looking down as she ran her finger across the texture of his suit. “You? Anyone special in your life?”

“Hmm,” Multimouse twirled her jump rope absently. “Sort of. It’s...complicated.” She sighed dreamily. “And I really wish it wasn’t, because I really do like him. He’s sweet and talented and thoughtful...insightful, really.” She sat up, crossing her legs, and reached up to pinch his cheek, which felt really funny considering how small she was. “Almost as handsome as you. Nice muscles, too, though he doesn’t show them off nearly enough.” She bounced her foot and seemed to consider what she was about to say. “I thought I’d missed my chance though. I kept him waiting for a long time, and—” She looked at him, and then looked away quickly. “I was pretty sure he didn’t feel that way about me anymore, but...I’m starting to wonder if…” He turned his head slightly so that he could see her face better. She was smiling softly down at the jump rope in her hand, biting her full lower lip and blushing. Viperion smiled.

“Well, maybe it’s time you took a little chance then,” he said, shrugging his shoulder just enough to jostle her slightly. “If he’s been waiting all that time, then he’s probably not going to make a move unless you do. He’s kinda put himself out there enough, don’t you think?”

Multimouse frowned, blinking at him. “But if he was still into me, wouldn’t he keep trying? Other...other guys have…”

Luka snorted softly. “Would you like him if he was like ‘other guys?’”

“I’d like him if he was like you,” Multimouse purred, leaning against his neck.

“Right, okay,” Viperion chuckled. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore if you don’t want to. I’m just saying, if you are interested, then you’re going to have to make a move, because if he does still have feelings for you, he’s trying to respect you by keeping them to himself.” He turned his face toward her and winked. “Food for thought. Though I’m sure a girl like you has plenty of options.”

“Aw, I’ll bet you say that to all the girls you turn down.”

Luka chuckled. “Believe me, if it weren’t for M—my girl, I’d be first in line.”

Multimouse squeaked and nearly fell backwards off of his shoulder, and Luka bit his lip in a vain effort to contain his grin.

“Need a hand?” he asked, careful not to move.

“No, I’m good!” she gasped, clawing her way back up the seams of his suit. Then she turned her head and brightened. “Oh, here I come!”

The Minimice—nope, Viperion immediately crossed that name out in his mind—the Manymice—no, that was practically the same as Multimice. Copymice? Okay that just sounded dumb. This is why I let Rose write the lyrics, ugh. The Multimice returned, each of them with their arms full of...yarn? Viperion knelt and his Multimouse jumped down from his shoulder. They chattered amongst themselves, talking so fast that Viperion couldn’t quite keep up, and then they lined up and began knotting their pieces of yarn together.

One of them (he wasn’t sure if it was the same one that had been with him all this time; he wished they came in different colors or something so he could tell them apart) turned to him and said, “The akumatized object is defended by a weird sort of...maze made of yarn. Like one of those laser grids you see in spy movies? We’re pretty sure that if we can get above it, we can drop down through the maze. I’m not sure what the strands do but we’d just as soon not find out! I think we’ve got enough pieces here to reach from those girders up there.” She pointed up and Viperion looked up to the girders crossing the warehouse-style ceiling.

“Are you sure it’ll hold?” Viperion frowned. “I don’t want you to fall.”

“Check it,” Multimouse winked at him, holding it up. Viperion took yarn and held it up, inspecting the knots. His eyebrows went up.

“You know your knots,” he said, tugging the yarn carefully. The knots tightened and held. “Where’d you learn that?”

“Oh,” the mini Multimouse’s eyes went wide, and she blushed under her mask. “Umm...a friend taught me.”

“Your special friend?” Viperion teased, “Maybe more special than you said if he taught you knots like these.”

“It is not like that,” Multimouse insisted, growing pinker. She folded her arms and looking away from him. “He spends a lot of time around boats, that’s all. Maybe I should ask how you know them.”

“I’ve spent a little bit of time on boats as well,” Viperion chuckled. “Well, it looks pretty good. I think it should work. Everybody grab on, let’s give it a quick test and make sure it’ll hold your weights.”

The Multimice all grabbed onto the yarn rope in a line, and Luka carefully lifted it by one end, his other hand ready to catch anybody that fell. Finally all of the mice were off the ground, the end of the rope hovering an inch or so above the floor. “Okay,” Viperion nodded. “Okay, looks good. Nice work. I’ll take you up.” He looked up to the steel girders criss-crossing above him and then around, planning his route up.

It took some fumbling but after a few minutes, Viperion got to his feet with his arms full of clinging Multimice. “Everybody good?” he asked. “If you don’t feel secure, now’s the time to say.”

“We’re good!” chorused the girls, and Viperion chuckled, then looked up again and took a deep breath.

“Okay, here we go. One...two…” He felt them grip tighter. “Three!” Viperion leapt, resisting the instinct to use his arms for balance and momentum, and made it up to the steel crossbeam. He blew out a slow breath, relieved as he let the Multimice carefully down on the girder.

“Well done,” one said, patting his hand with a sympathetic look, and Viperion smiled tightly, a little more adrenaline in his system than he wanted to admit to from the effort of getting up here without dropping or crushing anyone.

“Be careful,” he said as the Multimice walked along the girder until they were all gathered above the glowing yarn maze, looking down into the center. Luka followed, careful not to knock anyone off as he looked down.

“Not scared of heights, are you?” Multimouse teased.

“Not at all,” Luka chuckled, sitting down on the girder and hanging his legs off as he looked down. “What is that? It looks like a stapler.”

“It’s a bedazzler,” said Multimouse, and all of them wrinkled their noses at once. “How cheap. Did she really think she was going to pass that off in front of those judges? Audrey Bourgeois might be the queen of glitter but I guarantee you the stuff she uses costs at least a hundred bucks a bottle and cheap rhinestones are not going to cut it. I can just hear her now.” She put her nose in the air, one hand on her hip and the other one out in an affected pose as she flapped her hand. “Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!” Viperion’s breath caught, his eyes widening slightly.

“That’s...a pretty good impression,” he said slowly, looking intently at her. “Almost the best one I’ve seen.”

Multimouse just shook her head. “Poor thing was probably humiliated, no wonder Hawkmoth got to her.” She held up the end of their yarn rope. “Would you mind tying it?”

Viperion did so, hands working the tiny yarn rope almost automatically as his mind raced on other matters. He gave the Multimice a thoughtful look, but none of them noticed, all on their hands and knees staring down at the purple bedazzler. “This is really worrying,” one of them commented. “This is the first time an akuma’s actually hidden away from the akumatized person. This one’s simple enough, but they always get smarter.”

When the rope was secure, he lowered it carefully between the strands of the yarn maze. Four Multimice hopped onto it one by one and slid down.

Working together, they knotted the end of the yarn rope securely around the bedazzler, silently thanking Luka for his lessons on knots and ropes, and then one by one the Multimice shimmied back up the rope. Once there, they reformed into one large multimouse, who grinned up at Viperion triumphantly as she reached down and grabbed the yarn rope, hauling the bedazzler up hand over hand. “And there we go,” she grinned triumphantly, sitting down on the beam and crossing her legs, holding out the bedazzler triumphantly.

Viperion was looking at her strangely, one arm folded across his chest and the other propped up on it, fingers pressed to his lips. Multimouse cocked her head, and looked back at him. “Do I have something on my face?” she quipped. “Besides the mask.”

He didn’t answer.

“Care to do the honors?” Multimouse asked, setting the bedazzler down between them.

Viperion wordlessly took his lyre from the small of his back and smashed it down in a quick, violent movement that made Multimouse jump. It did the trick, though, and the akuma floated free.

“Wow,” Multimouse said absently, tracking the little butterfly. “Never thought I’d see you do that with an instrument. I’ll signal Ladybug and meet you on the next roof over.” She got to her feet and leapt nimbly across the beams, following the akuma. When she was sure she was out of Viperion’s sight, she whispered, “Come on out, Tikki.” Tikki popped out of one of her buns and came to float in front of her, beaming. “Ready?” Multimouse asked, and Tikki nodded. “Okay. Mullo, Tikki, unify.” A few minutes later, she’d captured the akuma and tossed her yoyo to cast the cure.

She stood weighing her yoyo in her hand. Technically speaking, Multibug supposed there was no need for her to meet up with Viperion again. She could have just sent him home, which was her original plan. But she hadn’t and he was expecting her and she felt unwilling to disappoint him. Marinette was used to the extra freedom that came with the mask and didn’t usually let it go to her head, but...well. She’d said a lot of things to Viperion today that Marinette had been longing to say to Luka for a while now and it felt good. He deserved to hear that he was brave and strong and kind and wonderful, and nobody said it to him the way they should.

Including her.

“Mullo, Tikki, divide,” she ordered, and Tikki flew free. She took one look at Multimouse’s face and giggled, hiding back in her bun again.

When Multimouse arrived on the roof, Viperion was sitting on the ledge of the roof, one knee bent and one hanging down, his eyes on the lyre in his hands as he idly plucked a tune. He looked like he’d been plucked from the gardens at Versaille and left there by accident. There was something about his posture that made her uneasy and she approached him with a little less swagger than she had planned. She opened her mouth to greet him but he spoke before she could.

“I was just thinking,” he said, eyes still down, “About that girl. The one I’m so crazy about. She’s a lot like you.”

Multimouse rocked back on her heels slightly, trying not to give away how thrown she was. She folded her arms and cocked her shoulders teasingly, closing one eye. “I thought you said there was nobody like her.”

Viperion chuckled, still strumming. Strumming...strumming Marinette’s song, she realized with a sudden jolt. “This girl, she’s amazing. I’ve been in love with her for years. She wasn’t interested though so I’ve been kinda hanging back for a while now.” He shook his head, and Multimouse was having trouble looking away from the fingers plucking the lyre. “I’m starting to think though...maybe she’s changing her mind. Maybe she’s starting to feel a little bit of what I feel for her.”

Marinette felt a thrill that sped up and down her body and took up residence in her stomach, electrifying the butterflies already fluttering there. “You still love her?”

Viperion smiled, and stopped playing, returning his lyre to the small of his back as he cocked his head to look at her, and the look in his eyes took her breath. “More and more as time passes. She just keeps getting more amazing, not less. I’ve dated other people, but never for long. Nobody measures up. I think maybe I can get over her then I see her again and it’s like no time has passed at all.”

Multimouse had no reason to blush at that, she reminded herself. She strolled over to him and turned, flattening her hands on the ledge where he was sitting and leaning back against it. “You should tell her, then. Maybe you’re right and her feelings are changing, but she thinks you’ve moved on so she’s too scared to say anything.”

“Well, you know. I might be wrong, but…” Viperion leaned toward her and put his mouth right by her ear. “I think I just did.”

She couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her.

Viperion hopped off the ledge and turned to face her, placing one hand next to her on the ledge as he leaned in close. Just like Luka, she thought distantly, her heart racing, to not trap her in, to leave her an escape. “You know a little too much about me for coincidence, little mouse. And maybe I know you just a little bit too well. I’ve heard you do that Audrey Bourgeois impression a few thousand times.” Multmouse bit her lip. “You’ve been running me a merry chase all day but I’ve caught you now, haven’t I?” Viperion continued, his nose brushed lightly against her cheek, just under her mask. “Can I kiss you?”

“I don’t mind, handsome,” Multimouse said, as bravely as she could manage, even though having him so close was making her heart pound. “But what if you’re wrong?”

“Haven’t you heard?” She could see Viperion’s grin widen out of the corner of her eye. “I’m all about taking chances.”

Multimouse turned her face to give him a Look, lips parted for a retort, but as soon as she turned to him, he dipped down and kissed her—not the soft, careful way she’d always imagined Luka would kiss, but hard and hungry and fierce, like—

Like they were both wearing masks and they could pretend it never happened if they chose. Like it might be the only time she’d ever let him and he intended to make the most of it. Like she’d been torturing him all day and he just couldn’t take it anymore.

Like he’d been in love with her for years and was finally feeling a tiny sliver of hope that she might have feelings for him too.

She felt him hesitate and begin to pull back, and suddenly she realized she hadn’t exactly stopped him, but she wasn’t really responding either, too caught off guard to do more than let her lips form to his. And if that wasn’t just like Luka, to kiss her like that and still wait for her.

Marinette might have hesitated. Ladybug would have delivered a lecture on professionalism in the suit.

Multimouse put her arms around his neck to stop his retreat and pressed into him, catching his lower lip between her teeth before pressing her mouth to his. His breath hitched and his hesitation disappeared and then they were really kissing, and it was like kissing him on her balcony only better, because this time he wasn’t shocked and hesitating and acting on instinct.

This time he wanted her and she wanted him and neither of them had to own up to it if they didn’t want to and it made them reckless.

By the time they stopped only his arm around her waist and the hand feeling up her back were keeping her from just toppling over the roof, he’d bent her so far back. They hung there for a moment, panting, and then he slowly straightened, bringing her back upright. He grinned at her, looking extremely pleased with himself as he eyed her. She felt a little cheated that his Miraculous lipstick wasn’t smudged, but his hair was a wreck, which made her smirk.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he told her, voice deeper than she’d ever heard it outside of a performance.

Multimouse slipped out of his arms and turned half-away from him, hands on her hips. “You think you know who I am,” she said, pouting bruised lips. “But that doesn’t mean I know who you are.”

“Hmm,” he smiled indulgently, leaning back against the roof ledge. “If you didn’t know before, I think you know now. I’m planning to be at Cafe Belle about two o’clock tomorrow. If the girl I like just happens to wander by, I’ll ask her to join me for coffee and cheesecake.”

Multimouse wrinkled her nose. “Is that a mouse joke?”

Viperion’s low chuckle made her shiver. “If she doesn’t care for cheesecake I’m sure I can find something to her taste.”

“Hmm,” Multimouse said airily, twirling the end of her jump rope tail as she sauntered away from him. “Well, good luck with that…”

Viperion sighed, head cocking slightly. “I am going to miss that suit.”

Multimouse whirled, her hands on her hips. “And I thought you were such a gentleman.”

Viperion grinned, looking at her through his bangs, his green eyes looking somehow more intense and...predatory than Luka’s usual blue. “I guess we both learned something about each other today. I didn’t know you could be such a tease. You made it an awfully long day today, you know.”

Multimouse cocked a hip and folded her arms. “You still might be wrong.”

Viperion shrugged, but his grin didn’t budge. “Maybe.” He winked. “See you tomorrow.” He kicked up his legs and flipped over the roof ledge behind him.

Multimouse sighed. “I’m going to miss that suit too.”

***

Luka was sweating and exhausted by the time he got back to the boat. He’d run as Viperion as fast and as far as he could, teeth clenched to keep from whooping at the top of his lungs.

Even after his transformation dropped, he sprinted a couple of blocks just on his own. He had, after all, kind of a lot of energy to burn off. Every time he thought he was calming down, he remembered, and a grin split his face and he put on another burst of speed.

He could hear Sass laughing at him in his hood and he couldn’t care at all.

Luka arrived home panting and sweating and dishevelled. That wasn’t unusual for him; if anyone saw him they’d probably assume he’d been at work—which was sort of true, anyway, even if no one knew he occasionally moonlighted as a superhero and made out with pretty girls on rooftops how the hell did this become his life.

Sass eyed Luka as the kwami ate his snack. Luka grinned at him and then at the ground.

“May I asssk what that was?”

Luka shrugged his shoulders without looking up. “Hormones?”

Sass laughed. “Indeed.”

Luka risked a glance at him. “Are you going to yell at me?”

Sass snorted. “I am not. If you wissssh a lecture, I’m sure Ladybug can arrange a disssscusion with Tikki. Persssonally, I think if you are judged worthy to wield me, which you have done resssponssibly for yearsss, it isss reasssonable to asssume you are not a fool. You knew what you were doing, you knew the risssk you were taking. Ladybug trusssts you with the fate of the city; I trussst you to ssstand up to your choicesss, whatever the outcome.”

“I—” Luka sighed. “Thanks, Sass.”

Sass finished his food and came to land on Luka’s shoulder, wrapping his tail lightly around Luka’s neck. He patted Luka’s cheek gently.

Luka put the plate away and went back on deck to wait for Ladybug. Unsurprisingly, given how long it had taken him to get home, he didn’t have to wait long. He was leaning on his elbows staring at the water when her feet hit the deck and the zip of her retracting yoyo.

“You’re not playing your guitar,” she observed.

Luka turned and shrugged. “It’s been kind of a weird day,” he said, handing over the bracelet. “I think I’m still processing it.”

Ladybug’s eyebrow quirked and his heart jumped for no apparent reason. Habit, he supposed, at this point. Gorgeous blue-eyed girls had been wrecking him all day so why should now be any different?

Different.

It...wasn’t different. It wasn’t different at all. Luka swallowed, suddenly staring at Ladybug’s mouth.

“Good weird or bad weird?” Ladybug asked, tilting her head and studying him. He probably looked deranged, he realized, windblown and sweaty and suddenly having a lot of difficulty putting words together.

“Good,” he replied, barely managing not to stutter. “The good kind, the best, actually, um…” He pressed his lips together before he could babble anything else. Ladybug looked like she was fighting a smile.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am fantastic,” he said, collapsing more than leaning back against the rail. “Couldn’t be better.”

Ladybug giggled. “Well, that’s good to hear.” She gave him a smirk and flung her yoyo. “See you around, Luka.”

“Right,” he said numbly to the empty air, and then he bolted for the door to the cabin. He clattered down the stairs and burst into his thankfully-empty room where he could lose his shit in peace.

It was a little thing, really. Her lips were just a little redder than usual, but it was enough. The eyes, the lips, the hair—holy shit the smirk—he felt like an idiot. Luka’s legs went weak and he sat down on his bed.

He bent his head and ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. “I need a shower,” he muttered absently.

“Didn’t you shower this morning?” Juleka grumbled from the doorway.

Luka stripped off his sweaty shirt and threw it in her face. “I’m a guy, I need another one.”

“Eeew!” she squealed, clawing it away. By the time she threw it to the floor, Luka had pushed past her and into the Liberty’s small bathroom, just about the only place where he could actually be alone on the whole boat.

He preferred to be alone while his brain was melting out of his ears.

Multimouse was Marinette. Marinette is Ladybug. It was clear as day now, it just plain wasn’t possible that there were two people like that in the world, let alone three. He felt like such a moron.

Marinette kissed him and he kissed Multmouse who was Marinette who was Ladybug and that he means he kissed Ladybug. Twice! Which, okay, he was in love with Marinette and always had been, and over the moon to have been kissing her, but he’d had some time to process that part and come on. Ladybug. If there was anyone in their age group who was attracted to girls who hadn’t fantasized about kissing Ladybug...well it was no one he’d ever met. Just nobody thought they’d ever actually get to, and he had, and that was kind of blowing his mind.

Juleka would be so jealous if she knew.

Of course she hadn’t been wearing the masks at the time, or at least not that mask, but Luka didn’t care. He’d kiss Marinette in any mask or no mask and he’d wear any damn thing she wanted him to because he was madly, stupidly in love with her, and she was three times as amazing as he ever thought and he had a date with her tomorrow.

After years of silent pining and half-hearted attempts to move on...he had a date with Marinette.

His hands were shaking.

Luka leaned his elbows on the tiny sink and grinned at himself in the mirror, shaking his head.

“You are one lucky bastard,” he muttered to his reflection, and laughed, giddy and breathless.

***

“What am I doing, Tikki?” Marinette breathed as she walked, briskly despite her nerves. “This is crazy. Right? Tell me this is crazy, Tikki.”

“Love is always a little crazy, Marinette,” Tikki giggled, peeking up from Marinette’s purse. “Just give it a chance! For once it’s not the world at stake. And it’s just Luka.”

“Right,” Marinette muttered. “Just Luka, that I climbed all over yesterday and now he knows it was me and—”

“And thinking that he wanted you to meet him today just to reject you would be crazy,” Tikki teased, poking Marinette’s side. “I know it’s scary, Marinette, but this is the good scary! The normal scary! The exciting scary!”

Marinette smiled and put her hand in her purse to stroke Tikki’s head lightly. “Thanks, Tikki.” She promptly faltered a step and tripped. “Oh no, there he is. Just like he said he would be.”

“That’s a good thing, Marinette!” Tikki giggled.

Luka was leaning against the wall between the cafe door and the alley separating it from the next building, hands shoved in his pockets. His jean pockets, because he wasn’t wearing the hoodie that she had seen on him at nearly every encounter for three years, just a Kitty Section t-shirt that Marinette had made him.

And because she’d made it, it fit him perfectly. And without his hoodie, it left his arms mostly bare. Marinette whimpered quietly, cursing yesterday-Marinette for making her admiration of his arms so...obvious.

“You can do it, Marinette,” Tikki whispered, sinking lower into the purse. Marinette gulped in a deep breath and started walking again.

“Hi Luka,” she called as she got closer, “Hey, what a surprise, running into you like this! I was just, um, just out and about.”

Luka looked up, giving her that same warm stare she’d last seen from masked green eyes, and a slow smile that made her skin tingle. “Hey Marinette. Fancy meeting you here. I was just thinking about getting a table to grab some lunch. His smile took on a cocky tilt that she had only rarely seen on him and for a moment she couldn’t decide if she was annoyed by it or something else entirely. “Care to join me? I hear they have great cheesecake here.”

Marinette stood, vibrating in indecision for just a moment. Luka’s eyes didn’t waver.

Well, maybe it’s time you took a little chance then. He’s kinda put himself out there enough, don’t you think?

He was right.

But first things first.

Marinette took a deep breath, steadied her nerves, and in a smoother motion than she would have thought she was capable of outside of the suit, she stepped up to him, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and swung him around into the alley entrance. “Woah,” he yelped, and then his eyes widened further as she planted a hand in the middle of his chest and pushed, backing him further down the (thankfully relatively clean) alley. Something in her face must have given him an inkling of her mood because he was slowly turning very red.

She changed her angle to back him into the wall and kept advancing until she was chest to chest with him, looking up into his face. “Just so we’re clear,” she said, with only a little tremble in her voice though she could feel her hands starting to shake, “Nothing on this earth will save you if you breathe a word of what you think you know to anyone.”

Luka’s eyes couldn’t get any wider. “Of course,” he gasped, breathlessly. “I wouldn’t, I would nev—mmph!” Marinette grabbed the back of his neck and jerked him down into a kiss that was harder than she meant it to be, just out of nerves. He must have liked it well enough, though, because he made the same noise he’d made yesterday when she kissed Viperion on her balcony. That sparked the memory of the look on his face afterwards, which made her giggle, and then she squeaked as he took advantage of her distraction and—wow, pulling him into the alley was a good decision because she did not want any witnesses to this.

This was so much better without the suits, she realized giddily as he pulled her up flush against him. He made that noise again when her hands slid up over his shoulders and slipped into his hair. It felt amazing and she could have kissed him forever but there were things she still needed to say.

Finally she put her hand on his shoulder, pushing lightly, and he stopped and drew back to look at her, lips red and hair even more tousled than usual, and Marinette was grateful he was still holding her because she wasn’t sure she could stand on her own at that point.

“A little mouse told me you still had feelings for me,” Marinette whispered. “Is it true? Because I—” she continued in a rush before he could answer. “Because I definitely have feelings for you and if it’s not true that’s okay, but if it—if it is then maybe we could go have that cheesecake and if you’re free maybe we could go see a movie and—”

He cut her off with another kiss, and it was softer and slower, more tender, more like how she had always imagined Luka would kiss, but it was no less thrilling.

“She also said you were a really good kisser,” Marinette added breathlessly when he drew back.

“Yeah?” The corner of his mouth came up in a subtle smirk that she could definitely get used to seeing on him.

“Yeah,” Marinette shrugged one shoulder, aware that her intense blush belied her unusually calm attitude. “So I guess I’m kinda hoping that since she was right about that,” Marinette dropped her eyes and rubbed two fingers against the fabric of his t-shirt, “Maybe she was right about the other thing too?”

“If you mean the fact that I’m even more in love with you than I was the day you tripped into my room,” he lowered his forehead to rest on hers and took a shaky breath. “Then yeah, she was totally right. And that’s one secret I’m more than happy to be rid of.”

“I’m sorry,” Marinette sighed, “For keeping you waiting so long, and then hesitating even when I knew what I wanted.”

Luka lifted one hand and brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek. “If you think I’m even the slightest bit dissatisfied right now then by all means, let me convince you I’m not.” His hand turned and cupped her cheek as he leaned in. Marinette put a finger on his chin and he paused.

“So...about that cheesecake?” she smiled.

“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go,” he told her, and his eyes—she couldn’t look away. “Today and any day. Every day, if you want. Whatever I have to do to make this real, just tell me, I’m there.”

Marinette smiled slowly. “Silly boy,” she said, letting her finger slide away from his chin. “It’s already real.”

He looked at her with soft eyes, and his voice was warm and low as he said, “Then let’s go have some cheesecake and go watch a movie that, I’m going to warn you now, I have no intention of remembering.” His arm slid around her, pulling her close into his side, and she smiled.

Luka smiled too as they strolled towards the cafe entrance together, not entirely convinced that his feet were touching the ground, and only the persistent pounding assured him his heart was still in his chest.

Luka held open the cafe door for her and she smiled up at him. As she passed him, he took a cookie out of his pocket and slipped it into her purse. He wanted to make a good impression, after all, even if he wasn’t quite ready to tell Marinette he’d figured out more of her secrets than she realized.

@wickidjennie

#quickspins #500 followers #thank you #hope you love it #triple threat #flirting #fluff #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #mlfics

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tickly-tufts · 5 years ago

Text

A Treacherous Interrogation

Spoilers for Akechi’s confidant in P5R, along with general P5 spoilers.

---

“Goro Akechi. Ace detective, celebrity... and would-be traitor to the Phantom Thieves. You have information that I want.”

If looks could kill, Akira would have died right then. As things were, however, Akechi could only glare.

Lured into Mementos by the promise of another duel, it had been embarrassingly easy for Akira to trap him. First, he’d been knocked out. Then, he’d been restrained. When he eventually regained consciousness, it was to find himself bound to the wall with coils of rope, red mask nowhere to be found.

“And what makes you think I’ll tell you anything?” he practically snarled.

“You know, I really did like you.”

Akechi froze.

“I was always happy to see you at Leblanc, or spend time with you around the city. That’s why I wanted to believe you were innocent... but I'd just be living in denial at this point, wouldn’t I?” Akira looked remorseful for a few seconds, then seemed to shake it off. “I have my team to think about. I have friends to protect. And so...”

Leaning in, he whispered his next words in Akechi's ear.

“One way or another, I'm going to make you talk.”

A shiver ran down Akechi's spine, both from the threat and Akira’s warm breath. This was accompanied by a stab of fear, though Akechi was quick to suppress it.

“What, are you planning to torture me?” he scoffed. “Harming someone for information is rather low, don't you think?”

A smile that was pure Joker broke out on Akira's face. Akechi didn't like it one bit.

“Torture, yes. Harm, no. I think I've come up with a pretty good compromise.”

And then he was lifting the hem of Akechi’s shirt, pushing it up far enough to expose a few ribs.

“W-What do you think you're doing?!” Akechi protested, a light blush dusting over his cheeks.

“Just getting ready,” Akira smirked, setting his gloves aside.

“Getting ready? What are you even- Ah!”

Akechi flinched at the first brush of fingers against his skin, the close contact feeling strangely intimate. However, while the motion might’ve been tender on its own, the tingling of his nerves told a different story. Slowly, the sensation radiated outwards, commanding all of his attention. It took roughly a minute for his body to betray him, releasing an uncontrollable flood of giggles.

Akira eagerly welcomed the sound.

“Tickle, tickle, tickle!” He pinched at Akechi’s ribs. “Who knew the Detective Prince was ticklish?” He dug in a bit, grinning when Akechi squealed. “You like that? It sure sounds like you do! I bet you wish you could move right about now.”

“Fuhuhuck ohohoff!”

“Swearing already? How rude...” He promptly scribbled his nails across Akechi’s stomach.

“GahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAGH!”

“Anyway, enough small talk. Who are you working for?”

And thus the interrogation commenced.

---

Quite some time later, Akira began to wonder if he’d underestimated Akechi’s resilience. Despite being so ticklish (and struggling quite fiercely), the latter didn’t seem any closer to spilling his secrets.

“I’m kind of impressed how long you’ve held out,” Akira admitted aloud. “But if you’re really gonna be this stubborn, then I think it’s time I got serious.”

Taking the opportunity to catch his breath, Akechi’s mind began to race. Though he’d managed to endure the tickling up to that point, he didn’t want to imagine how it could possibly get worse.

“Having second thoughts?” Akira questioned, casually tapping his fingers against Akechi’s sides.

“You’re w-wasting your t-time,” Akechi countered with a scowl, though the effect was ruined by his flushed face and watery eyes.

“Suit yourself,” Akira shrugged, lowering his head.

And before Akechi had a chance to brace himself-

PBBBBBBBBBBTTTTTT!

Akira’s lips were vibrating against his bare belly.

“WHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA?!” Akechi screeched as if he’d been shocked. “STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!” he demanded, writhing helplessly in place.

Akira wondered if Akechi could feel him smirking, blowing raspberry after raspberry as his captive grew more frantic.

“YOHOHOHOHOU BAHAHASTAHARD!” Akechi tried to shout, cackling hysterically all the while.

It seemed only a matter of time before he was overwhelmed... until the unexpected happened.

“ENOHOHOHOHOUGH!”

Akira backed off immediately, staring in awe as Akechi’s princely attire melted away. Left in its place was an entirely new costume, darker and slimmer in appearance.

Akechi didn’t notice until Akira pulled off his helmet, exposing his openly stunned face.

“Huh... guess that confirms my theory. You really are the Black Mask.”

Both were silent as they re-evaluated the situation. Akira, however, recovered first, jumping right back into the interrogation.

“GYAHAHAH! WHAHAT THE FUHUHUCK?!”

“Oh, did you think we were done? Not even close!” he emphasized with rapid pokes. “Still, who would’ve guessed I could just tickle you into transforming? Definitely didn’t see that coming when I set all this up.”

Even though Akechi’s new costume covered his entire body, Akira found it was perfect for gliding his fingers across. Akechi, on the other hand, came to the horrible realization that the skintight material was absolutely useless against tickling.

“Wow, I can’t believe how smooth this is! I could just spend forever running my hands over it...”

No, worse than that, it seemed to amplify everything. There was just something unbearable about being teased this way. Akira detected this vulnerability as well, slowing down to trace shapes beneath Akechi’s raised arms.

“Feel like naming your employer yet?”

Akechi refused, only to squeak in alarm when Akira wandered lower.

“Sensitive?” Akira goaded, softly scratching his inner thighs.

“You-! Eheheheheek!” Akechi couldn’t help but squirm, legs shaking violently but unable to budge.

“Awww, how cute!” Akira's tone turned playful. “Maybe I should be nice and just stick around here.”

He did just that for several minutes, keeping his touch almost feather-light. The reactions it elicited were as amusing as they were endearing, and for a short moment, Akira allowed himself to forget why he was doing this.

“Look at you, so sweet and adorable... Why haven’t I heard you laugh like this before? It’s way more charming than the fake one you always use, and paired with that smile? I think I’m in love.”

And then something in Akechi seemed to snap.

“Don’t mock me!”

Akira faltered.

Despite looking furious on the surface, Akechi’s eyes were filled with genuine hurt. The sight of it made Akira’s heart drop.

“What’s wrong?” he asked automatically.

“Is that some kind of joke? You subject me to all of this, then ask me what’s wrong?” Akechi let out a strangled laugh. It sounded more like a sob. “I would’ve preferred actual pain over this humiliation!”

He might’ve been referring to the chosen method of interrogation, but Akira somehow doubted that. It hadn’t seemed personal until the very end, when Akira’s natural tendency to flirt with the detective had taken over.

“...Is this because of the ‘love’ part?”

Akechi recoiled.

“I hate you.”

No you don’t.

That's what Akira had thought the first time, clutching that familiar glove in his hand.

“No you don’t,” he stated directly this time, not as a challenge, but as a gentle observation. The affectionate tone with which it was delivered was enough to make Akechi turn.

“What- Why would you-” He stared in disbelief at Akira’s expression, looking for some hint of deceit. When he found only kindness and understanding, he gave up...

...then solemnly confessed everything.

The kiss Akira pressed to his head afterwards was a grateful one.

#goro akechi #akira kurusu #shuake #akeshu #persona 5 #tickling #a tickly fic #and then they went home and snuggled #the end #please let me know if you enjoyed this one #i revised it a lot

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theguardiangabriel · 4 years ago

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Brightwood Challenge 02

1: How high is your libido? When I have someone in my life, it is generally higher.

2: Rough sex or soft sex? I like an emotional connection, so more soft over rough sex.

3: Do you have any unusual kinks/fetishes? No. I don’t think so.

4: Weirdest place you’ve had sex? Uh???

5: Favourite sex position? The table top or some way like that.

6: Do you like to be dominant or submissive? I’m probably more submissive.

7: Have you ever had any one night stands? No. I’m pansexual, so that’s not really on my radar.

8: Sex on the bed, couch or the floor? Bed or couch.

9: Have you ever had sex in a public place? No, but I wouldn’t say no necessarily.

10: Have you ever been caught masturbating? No, I don’t think so.

11: What does your favorite sexy underwear look like? I... ah... black boxer briefs?

12: How often do you have sex? Not that often usually.

13: Is there anybody right now you’d like to have sex with? Yeah, probably.

14: Do you prefer giving or receiving oral sex? Both are good.

15: Most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you during sex? I can’t think of anything.

16: A song you’d listen to during hard/rough/kinky sex? Fallin’ (Adrenaline)- Why Don’t We

17: A song you’d listen to during soft/slow/passionate sex? Holy - Justin Bieber ft. Chance the Rapper.

18: Are you into dressing up for sex? Sure.

19: Would you prefer sex in the bath or sex in the shower? Bath.

20: If you could have sex with anyone right now, who would it be? Ahhhh... I don’t know. It would have to be someone I know and have a connection with. Not sure I really have that kind of connection with anyone at the moment.

21: Have you ever had a threesome? If not, would you? No. If the connections were there, sure.

22: Do you/would you use sex toys? Yes, and yes.

23: Have you ever sent someone a dirty text/picture? No.

24: Would you have sex with your best friend? This has happened to me and my best friend since we attracted to each other that way and had that connection I need.

25: Is there anything you do after sex? (for example, smoke, eat, drink)? Snuggle and sleep.

26: Something that will never fail to get you horny? Connecting with me. Making me feel like you really know me, really care about me.

27: Early morning sex or late night sex? Late at night. Darkness and shadows.

28: Favourite body part on the opposite sex? Hips.

29: Favourite body part on the same sex? Shoulders.

30: Something that you have hidden in your room that you don’t want anyone to find? I don’t think I have anything hidden in my room.

31: Weirdest sexual act some has performed [or tried to perform] on/with you? I can’t think of anything.

32: Have you ever tasted yourself? [If no, would you?] [If yes, what did you think?] No. I guess?

33: Is it ever okay to not use a condom? If you’re still being safe, have considered all outcomes and both partners agree on it, sure, why not?

34: A food that you would like to use during a sexual experience? Ice cream.

35: Worst possible time to get horny? Around other people I guess?

36: Do you like it when your sexual partner moans? Yes, definitely.

37: What is the most amount of times you’ve ever orgasmed in a day? Like twice? But that was because there was a lot, a lot, of teasing and edging.

38: Best sexual complement you ever got: I don’t think I have.

39: Favorite foreplay activities: Kissing, teasing, flirting, touching.

40: What do you wear to bed? Boxers and sometimes a shirt.

41: What is your biggest turn off? A big age gap.

42: Do you have any nude/masturbating pictures/video of yourself? Pictures, yes. That is my thing.

43: Have you ever/when was the last time you had sex outside? No. But I’d consider it.

44: Have/would you ever have sex in public? No, but I think I might like it. Especially if it would please my partner.

45: Have/would you ever had a threesome? No, but maybe if I was connected to both partners.

46: What is one random object you’ve used to masturbate? Um I don’t know?

47: What is your favorite type of porn? Nothing too graphic.

48: Do you like oral sex? (why/why not) Yes. It’s good foreplay.

49: How do you feel about tattoos on someone you are interested in? Absolutely. I’d want to photograph them all.

50: How would you feel about taking someones virginity? That can be a big deal.

51: Is there any food you would NOT recommend using during a sexual encounter? Anything spicey.

52: Would you rather be a pornstar or a prostitute? Neither.

53: Do you watch porn? Sometimes.

54: Have you ever been called a freak? Why? No, not that I know.

55: Do you feel comfortable going “commando”? Yeah.

56: Would you have a problem with going down on someone if they hadn’t shaved their pubic hair? I don’t think I do.

57: If you could give yourself head, would you? Interesting thought. Am I that flexible? Or are there multiple me’s?

58: Booty or Boobs? Both.

59: Have you ever cheated on someone? (Why?) No. I couldn’t.

60: What is your dirtiest sexual fantasy? Being comfortable enough with someone to let them just... use me.

61: have you ever watched someone masturbate? Yes.

62: has anyone ever watched you masturbate? Yes.

63. Have you ever had an erection and someone noticed? Yes, I think. But they were kind enough not to make a big deal about it.

64. What is your method of masturbation? Usually just my hand. I’m a simple guy.

65. What is your bra/penis size? Hopefully the nicer side of average.

66. What is the strangest thing you have ever put up your vagina/anus? What? No.

67. When was the last time you masturbated? This morning.

68. When was the last time you had sex? Uh, what year is it again?!?! LOL

69. When was the last time you watched porn? NYE.

70. Have you ever bought a sex toy? If so, which one did you buy last? First sex toy? If not, which one do you plan on buying when you do? Yes. Plugs were most recent, a dildo was first.

71. Circumcised? Yes.

72. Which not-genital part of your body do you like being touched? My hands.

73. Which genital part of your body do you like being touched? My butt.

74. Are you able to achieve orgasm just through breast stimulation? No, but any kind of touch is usually helpful.

75. Have you anonymously sent a sexual ask to someone? Yes.

76. When was the last time you have had a wet dream? Don’t remember.

77. Which wet dream was your favorite? It’s been too long.

78. Is there a friend you would willingly have sex with? Probably.

79. Is there a celebrity/character you would willingly have sex with? Probably not.

80. Least favorite sexual position? Doggie, or spoon.

81. Do you like being called a slut or whore in bed? Not really.

82. Are you into any BDSM? A little, yes, I think.

83. Have you ever wanted to have sex with someone but knew you couldnt for any reason? Why? Yes. Despite what felt like a connection on my part, they weren’t exactly available to me.

84. Do you like dirty talk? Yes.

85. Are you loud or quiet during sex? Masturbation? Quiet.

86. Have you ever been interrupted during sex or masturbation? Who/what? No. Call me lucky.

87. What kind of porn do you like to watch? I don’t really enjoy it all that much. Although I once stumbled across one once, with a girl that reminded me of a girl I was kind of developing a thing for, and it was... interesting.

88. Have you ever confessed to someone that you got an erection over them? What about masturbated to them? No. Should I?

89. Have you ever masturbated because your sexual partner wasn’t there when you needed them? Yes.

90. Have you ever had a one night stand? Do you still keep in contact with them? No.

91. Have you ever had a friends with benefits? Are they still beneficial? No, not really.

92. Any kinks you’ve always wanted to try but haven’t? There are some yes. I’m not the most experienced, but that’s okay.

93. How should someone who is interested in sleeping with you approach the topic? Let me know you’re interested and try to get to know me, not just to sleep with me.

94. What are your absolute no-nos in bed? Degrading talk and bathroom kinks.

95. How do you feel about quickies? Sure.

96. Have you ever tried roleplay in bed? Would you? No, and yes.

97. Describe the best orgasm you’ve ever had. What were you doing? Alone or with someone else? What made it so good? Alone. I knew just what to do to keep bringing myself just to the brink over and over and over again, while I thought about someone I was interested in, imagining it was them who was keeping me on edge. Praising me for how well I was doing. And promising me an amazing orgasm.

98. Have you ever filmed yourself while masturbating or having sex? No.

99. Lights on or lights off? Either.

100. What would you like to do more of in bed? Get more experience before I stumble upon my bond. I don’t want to be a complete mess when that happens.

#brightwood challenge 02 #gabrielinspo

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pikapeppa · 6 years ago

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Cullavellan & FenHawke pirate AU: Crew

Chapter 8 of Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me is up on AO3!!

In which we get to see both FenRynne and Piperford being a bunch of silly smitten idiots.

As always, INCREDIBLE DIVINE ART BY @schoute!!!!

Read here on AO3! ~9700 words.

- FENRIS -

Fenris pulled his shirt over his head, taking extra care not to jostle his wounded right shoulder as he did. The wound was inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, but the faster it healed, the more efficiently he could move when he was required to fight again.

He sat on the wooden stool in his quarters and bent over the bucket of saltwater he’d hauled up from the ocean earlier this morning. Varric had assured him that they had enough fresh water on board for a quick wash, especially since they’d be docking in Llomerynn this afternoon, but Fenris didn’t like wasting fresh water for washing unless he was absolutely filthy.

He dipped a clean rag into the bucket of water. But before he could mop the grime from his neck and face, he paused and inspected the bandage that Hawke had wrapped around his wounded arm last night.

The bandage was neatly tied and trimmed: just tight enough to stay in place but not too tight to cut off his circulation. It was tidy work; he’d give her that.

Unnecessary, though. The stitches were probably not needed. The gash on his arm was long, but not particularly deep. But Fenris had barely had a moment to set foot on the Lady Luck before Hawke was suddenly beside him, wiping the blood off of his arm and dabbing the wound with Anders’s antiseptic solution. Before Fenris could even ask what she thought she was doing, she was chivvying him over to a bench and telling him she was going to stitch up his arm.

He still wasn’t sure why he’d allowed her to do it. Strange hands touching his skin, pulling thread through his flesh like he was some sort of… some sort of experiment: it was something he would never grow accustomed to, no matter how benign the intent. He’d only allowed Anders to treat his wounds on two occasions – once when he’d first joined the Lady Luck, and once for a stab wound to the side – and both occasions were more than enough examination by the ship’s doctor for his liking.

Anders was no better than the doctors Fenris had known back in the Imperium. His methods of study were just as corrupt. And now, if Anders was going to be teaching medicine to Hawke…

The thought gave him an odd pang of disappointment. Fenris hadn’t been sure how Hawke would fit on the ship, but he certainly hadn’t imagined her becoming Anders’s apprentice.

He studied his bandaged shoulder for a moment longer, then began to briskly wash his neck and torso with seawater. Perhaps she will be different as a doctor, he thought. She was already quite different from the other highborn humans he’d known, after all. She wasn’t arrogant, for one; in fact, she was quite self-deprecating, aside from her ostentatious flirts. Her sense of humour was unusually lewd for an upper-class maiden, and when instinct overrode manners, the curses that fell from her lips were as filthy as any common sailor.

If anything about her bothered him, it was her bright-eyed naiveté. The delight she took in learning every new skill, and the enthusiasm she had for every new thing she saw… She seemed to think everything in the world was wonderful and interesting, including Fenris himself, and for some reason he wasn’t entirely certain of, this grated at his nerves.

He wrung the cloth out in his bucket of water and wiped his face, then started cleaning his neck and shoulders. Just as he was finishing up, someone knocked on his door.

He tensed. “Who is it?”

“It’s Rynne – er, Hawke!”

He tensed even further at the sound of her cheerful voice. He dropped the cloth in the bucket and hastily stood from his stool. “Don’t come in,” he barked.

She pushed the door open and poked her head inside. “Good morning, sunshine! What are you–” Her gaze fell on his bare chest, and her mouth dropped open.

“I said don’t come in,” he hissed. He turned away from her and fumbled in the chest in the corner for a clean tunic.

“Sorry!” she blurted. “Sorry sorry, I thought you said to come in, I just wanted to see if you could, er, teach me some, um…”

She trailed off, and Fenris warily glanced at her. Naturally, she was staring at the vivid white tattoos on his skin.

He hunched his shoulders and glared at her. “Quit gaping at me. You look like a fish out of water.”

She snapped her mouth shut and pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks. “I am so sorry,” she said, and then she burst out laughing.

Fenris straightened and haphazardly shook out the sleeveless tunic he’d grabbed. “Entertained, are you? At least one of us is,” he snapped.

“No, no, it’s not that,” she said. She was still giggling like a foolish child. “I’ve just – I’ve never seen a naked man before! Partly naked, that is, but still. I mean, well, I’ve seen my brother in a swimming costume, but it’s hardly the same, he’s my brother. But you – you’re –”

“I’m what?” Fenris demanded. He hauled the sleeveless tunic over his head, ignoring the pull of pain in his right shoulder as he did. “An elf? A slave?” A victim of experimentation at the hands of filthy Tevinter doctors? he thought with growing anger.

“No, you idiot,” she blurted. “You’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.”

Fenris stopped and stared at her. Her face went completely red. “Oh bloody Maker’s balls,” she said, and she burst out laughing again and covered her face.

It doesn’t mean anything, he told himself. Hawke flirted with everyone. She’d been charming the entire crew with her shameless flirtation. Her words meant nothing.

Never mind that she, too, was the loveliest woman he’d ever seen.

His ears were feeling distinctly warm. He tugged one ear, then folded his arms. “I hope there is a reason you came here, aside from disturbing me.”

“Yes,” she wheezed. She delicately wiped a tear from the corner of one eye. “I was going to ask if you could start teaching me weapons today. You said you would, and I don’t need to meet Anders for another hour or so, so I was hoping...”

Her smile was hopeful and bright. Fenris shook his head in exasperation. “I can barely begin teaching you the basics of using a blade in a single hour.”

“It’s still something!” she said. She tilted her head and batted her eyelashes. “Please, Fenris? I’ve been looking forward to learning how to fight. Especially after what you all went through on Estwatch…” Her smile faded into a grimace. “That was difficult to watch. Even from this far away on the ship.”

Fenris huffed and looked away. “That was a minor skirmish. Commonplace.”

“I know,” she said. “And I need to get used to it, like you said. And I would really love your help.”

He met her eye once more. Her expression was as open and earnest as ever, but she looked serious for once.

He unfolded his arms. “All right,” he conceded. “We’ll go to the deck. I will show you some of the different weapons we have on hand. It will take some time to decide what combat style suits you best.” He gestured with his right arm for her to step out of his quarters.

Another tug of pain rippled from his wound. He tried not to show it, but Hawke’s eyes widened all the same. “Oh no, your arm,” she said. She stepped closer to him and reached for his arm. “How is it feeling–?”

He instinctively shirked away from her touch. She pulled her hand back and looked up at him with wide eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to… I just wanted to check that it was all right.” She grimaced ruefully. “Actually, that’s the first thing I should have done. Anders will scold me. Is it–”

“It’s fine,” he said brusquely. “There has been no further bleeding, and it’s not hot to the touch. It is fine.”

She still looked worried. “Maybe you should take a few days before we do this weapons training lark, then,” she said. “Take it easy, give the wound some time to heal.”

He shook his head and ushered her out the door. “I have fought with worse wounds than this, in worse places. Let’s carry on.” He led her toward one of the racks of practice weapons near the bow, then slowed to a stop and began to consider the weapons in their arsenal.

A lighter blade, he thought. Hawke was slightly shorter than Piper and almost as petite, so a rapier or an épée like Piper’s would probably be best.

“How about showing me how to use this?” she said.

He looked at her. She was holding out the dagger that Fenris had given her on her first day on this ship.

“Ah. A fair point,” he said. He’d given it to her thinking she should use it to defend herself in case the Lady Luck was boarded, but he’d never actually shown her how to use it.

He took the dagger from her. “Short blades such as this can be used to stab or to slash. Many blades can be used for both. When we have time, l will show you how to recognize the primary use of a given blade.” He held up the dagger he’d given her. “This one is mainly for stabbing and parrying – for turning away an enemy’s blade,” he explained, indicating the narrow blade and fine point. “But it is double-edged. You could use it to slash or cut if you were hard-pressed.”

Hawke didn’t reply. Fenris frowned at her. “Do you understand?”

She looked up at him with wide eyes. “How do you know all this?”

He raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean – well, you clearly know what you’re doing.” She nodded to the rack of weapons. “You know how to use all of these, right?”

“That is correct,” he said slowly.

She blinked up at him once more. “Do all pirates know how to use all the weapons?”

“Of course not,” he said. “Most people have a preferred weapon. Sera has her bow, Varric prefers the crossbow, Piper has her épée…”

“But you’ve mastered all of them,” Hawke said.

Oh. Now he realized what she was getting at. He folded his arms and gave her a flat look. “You want to know how a mere slave is competent enough with weapons to become the master-at-arms.”

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean it like–!” She broke off and shot him an apologetic look. “Is it a terribly rude question to ask?”

He eyed her with some irritation, then sighed and unfolded his arms. “It is not an unreasonable question. I was a bodyguard in Tevinter for many years. I was forced to learn every type of weapon. My former master wanted me to be… impressive.” He looked away from her and idly flicked the dagger’s edge. He’d hated being Danarius’s bodyguard, but unfortunately, it hadn’t been the worst of his duties. That dubious honour was reserved for the lyrium mines.

Hawke hadn’t asked about that, though. And Fenris wasn’t going to volunteer that information himself. Even if she did ask, he probably wouldn’t tell her. If he hadn’t told Piper or Varric what he was forced to do at the mines despite knowing them for a year, he wasn’t very well going to tell Hawke.

He glanced at her, then frowned at her sympathetic expression. “I don’t need your pity,” he said bluntly.

Her eyebrows rose slightly. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to, er, pity you. I was just thinking that, um. Well, it’s awful that you had to learn to do this,” she said, and she waved vaguely at the weapons. “But at least it’s come in handy. You’re the master-at-arms now – one of the most important people on this ship. It was shitty, what you had to do, but you’ve used it to your advantage. That’s good, right?”

He huffed. That was such a sunny spin to put on a terrible circumstance. “Yes, I did use it to my advantage,” he said. He idly ran his finger along the edge of the blade. “My weapons prowess was very handy when I killed my former master.”

Her coppery eyes widened. “You killed your former master?” she said.

He nodded. He flicked the edge of the dagger once more, then finally looked her in the face.

“Good,” she said.

He studied her serious expression. She wasn’t wrong; it was good that Danarius was dead. It was one less monster in the world who abused his slaves and handed them over to the horrors of experimental medicine. And yet, Danarius’s death hadn’t brought the vindication that Fenris had always hoped for.

Fenris was free. He was able to go where he wanted and to do what he liked. He’d been travelling with Piper’s crew for a year or so now, and nothing truly untoward had happened. Yet he still felt every day like he was waiting for the headman’s axe to fall.

He licked his lips, then held the dagger out to Hawke. “Hold it like this. Thumb over the fingers, never under. Keep the crosspiece snug to your hand.”

She did as she was told, and Fenris nodded. “This is called a forward grip. You can hold the dagger the other way as well, with the blade facing down. But we will focus on this for now.”

She nodded and looked expectantly at him. “All right. Now what?”

“Now I will show you the vulnerable points on the body,” he said. “If you are attacked, these are the areas you should aim to strike on your enemy if you are given a choice. If you’re desperate, then…” He shrugged. “Slash and stab wherever you must. But strategic strikes may help you conserve your energy.”

She nodded again. “Understood.”

He took a step closer to her and touched a spot just below the angle of her jaw, then ran his finger carefully in an oblique angle along her neck. “The veins in the neck here feed blood to your brain,” he said. “Stab a man here, and you will give him a quick death.” With his index finger, he drew a line along the front of her throat. “You can slash here and open the windpipe. But death will be slower and less certain. A man can recover from this wound if he is fortunate.”

She swallowed hard. Fenris watched the movement of her throat before lifting his gaze to her face.

Her eyes were wide, and her cheeks were slightly pink. He frowned. “Don’t tell me this talk of death is bothering you.”

“No, no, not at all!” she said. She swallowed again. “Um, carry on. Keep, er, teaching me.”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but pushed on regardless. He pointed to the left side of her chest. “The heart is here, as you know. An obvious vulnerable point, but difficult to hit through the ribs.” He lightly pressed his fingers to the base of her ribs. “Better to try coming in low and stabbing up beneath the ribs, here, in the hopes of striking a lung. Or simply focus on the gut, which is largely defenseless.” He quickly ran his fingers along the flat span of her belly. “The larger the wound you deal, the better. You won’t kill someone quickly this way, but you will wound them painfully. It may give you time to escape.”

She didn’t reply. Fenris looked at her once more.

She was nibbling her lush lower lip, and her eyes were closed. Fenris scowled at her. “Are you paying attention?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

Suddenly he realized what was happening. He folded his arms. “Hawke, are you somehow finding this titillating?” he said flatly.

She opened her eyes, and with a jolt, Fenris recognized the particular brand of heat in her bronze gaze before she buried her face in her hands. “Argh. I know, I’m so embarrassed,” she said plaintively. “It’s just – you were half-naked, and now you’re touching me, and it’s–”

“It wasn’t my intention to be half-naked,” he said defensively. His traitorous ears were going hot, matching the traitorous heat that was taking root low in his belly. “You burst into my quarters uninvited. And I would train anyone this way.”

“I’m not saying it’s your fault!” she said. “I’m just trying to explain my, um, my… It’s just… you with your fingers on my – and I haven’t – M-maker’s balls.” She swallowed hard and fanned herself. “What I wouldn’t give for a glass of ice water. Or perhaps to throw myself off the edge of the ship. Are there sharks in this water? They could eat me and put out of my misery.” She laughed nervously and moved toward the edge of the ship.

Fenris looked away from her and scrubbed a hand through his hair. He’d predicted that training Hawke in combat would be difficult, but he hadn’t anticipated this being the difficulty.

Truth be told, he wasn’t sure why he was even seeing this as a difficulty at all. So what if Hawke was inappropriately stimulated by his training techniques? It didn’t change the fact that she needed to learn to fight. When she was eventually caught in a fight, she would need to ignore her own panic in order to defeat her opponent. So perhaps her, er, arousal was a good thing. A good practice distraction, if you will.

If he was really being truthful, the problem wasn’t Hawke. The problem was Fenris himself. After all, Hawke wasn’t the only one whose reaction to all of this was inappropriate.

He took a deep breath and cursed the heat thrumming beneath his own skin. He didn’t want to be attracted to her. He didn’t want to think about the husky sound of her voice or the silken warmth of her neck beneath the tips of his fingers. He didn’t want to admire the way she embraced every single experience with open arms despite having the most sheltered life that Fenris could imagine.

He didn’t want to want her at all. A lowly elven pirate desiring a highborn human? It was completely irrational. Far too much to risk, given that there was already a price on his head in Kirkwall for his connection to Piper. Not that he would risk it anyway, since Hawke’s interest in him extended no further than her wide-eyed interest in, well, everything.

“Fenris! Fenris, look!”

Her sunny voice was pitched high with excitement. He turned to look at her, and she threw him a brilliant grin and beckoned him over to the starboard taffrail.

He scowled. “We should continue training,” he complained.

“I know, I know, but – quickly, quick, look!” She pointed at the water.

He wilted in exasperation, then trudged over to the taffrail to join her. “What is it?” he grunted.

She was avidly watching the rippling expanse of the ocean. “Wait for it,” she breathed. “I swear I saw…” She gasped and pointed frantically at the ocean. “There!”

He peered into the water, then folded his arms. “It’s a dolphin.”

“I know!” she squealed. “Isn’t it incredible? They’re so much smaller than I imagined! I mean, I suppose we are quite high up on the ship here, but they still seem rather small. Not that that’s a bad thing, it’s – I – oh, isn’t this marvelous?”

Hawke beamed at him, and he eyed her apprehensively until he realized why she was so thrilled. She’d never seen a dolphin before. Of course she hadn’t, having lived her entire life in Hightown.

He relaxed slightly and rested his palms on the taffrail. “They are very commonplace here. Even more so at the mouth of the Rialto Bay,” he told her. “This will not be the last time you see them.”

“Really?” she said eagerly. “Can we get closer to them? On the rowboat, perhaps?”

“Yes,” he said. “When we’re rowing into the Rialto Bay, the dolphins often swim alongside the boats.”

Her face was completely lit up with excitement. Kaffas, she was far too excited about this. And far too beautiful.

He swallowed and jerked his chin at the water. “There is more than one now.”

She whipped around to look, then grabbed his bicep and gasped. “Maker’s balls, there’s a whole pod of them!” She laughed. “My father would be thrilled if he could see this.”

Her fingers were firm and warm on his arm. Strange hands on his skin – he didn’t like it. He should tell her to unhand him.

“Your father?” he said instead.

She nodded. Her hand was still on his arm, and her happy gaze was still on the pod of dolphins. “He’s a naturalist,” she said. “He specializes in ocean life. Mostly plant life, mind you, but he’s very fond of the animals as well.”

Fenris regarded her with some surprise. A naturalist was not a very high-status position, at least in Tevinter, though the pay could be rather good.

“Is your father is well-known in the field?” he asked.

“He’s an associate professor at the University of Orlais,” she said absently. Most of her attention was still on the sea. “He heads up their lengthier expeditions. We last saw him... oh, some six months ago when his ship docked in Kirkwall?” She finally released Fenris’s arm and leaned her elbows on the taffrail. “Well-paid he may be, but having an absent naturalist for a father doesn’t gain you very much social capital in Kirkwall high society, let me tell you. That’s where yours truly came in. Rynne Hawke, the Belle of Kirkwall, swooping in with all her charms to save the day.” She huffed ironically. “Guess my mother will have to rely on Carver to make her look good, now that I’m gone. She’s rather shit out of luck with that, unfortunately. My baby brother’s about as charming as an old leather boot.”

Fenris frowned thoughtfully. Hawke was smiling still, but her smile was softer now, and there was a certain wistful tilt to her eyebrows.

He leaned back against the taffrail and folded his arms. “Do you regret it? Leaving Kirkwall?”

She laughed. “No. Not at all. I definitely don’t regret getting away from my mother, that’s for certain.”

Fenris quietly studied her lovely profile. Her gaze remained on the ocean as she continued to talk. “My brother, on the other hand…” She twisted her lips and sighed. “We don’t really get along. But, well… perhaps I’ll see him around. He is with the navy, after all.”

“And your father?” Fenris asked.

She smiled hopefully. “Maybe we’ll run into him during our adventures! He’s constantly travelling himself.” Her smile became a bit rueful. “If not, well... I’ve gotten rather used to his absence, truth be told.”

Fortunate for you, Fenris thought with a hint of bitterness. Varania’s face crossed his mind: her dimpled smile and her big green eyes that matched his own. He had no idea what had become of his sister after she’d convinced that merchant from Qarinus to buy her from Danarius and take her away.

He leaned into the taffrail and didn’t speak. Hawke gave him a tiny half-smile, then looked out at the sea once more. “You know who I really miss, though? My sister Bethany.” She laughed softly. “She’d be horrified if she saw me now. She was the proper one – the truly proper one. But I also think she would find it a bit funny to see me here.” She smiled up at him. “We used to read stories of mermaids and sea dragons and brave sailors. She wanted to be a mermaid, and I wanted to be a sea dragon. Neither of us wanted to be boring old sailors, but look at me now.” She laughed again.

Fenris smiled faintly. Of course Hawke would want to be a sea dragon rather than a mermaid.

“Is Bethany in Kirkwall with your mother, too?” he asked.

Hawke shook her head. “She died three years ago. Scarlet fever.”

He raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t known. “I’m… sorry.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. “It’s fine, though. It was some time ago.” She looked at the sea once more, and they stood in silence for a moment.

Then she shot him a tiny smile. “I don’t suppose…” She trailed off and scratched her ear. “Do you remember when we met in the market for the first time and I bought that necklace?”

“Yes,” he said cautiously.

She nibbled the inside of her cheek before speaking again. “I, um, gave you my choker to hold. A red ribbon choker. I forgot to get it back from you before Cullen made me go home. It, er…” She swallowed hard. “It was my sister’s favourite hair ribbon. I don’t… I don’t suppose you still have it?”

Fenris stared at her. It was on the tip of his tongue to deny it, to say he didn’t know what she spoke of or that he’d thrown it away or some other excuse. But her eyes were so wide and hopeful, and her sister was dead…

He gritted his teeth. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the satin ribbon, then silently handed it to her.

Her jaw dropped. She carefully took the ribbon from his hand. “You kept it,” she said softly.

He shrugged and folded his arms. “I didn’t keep it. It has... remained in my pocket.”

She arched an eyebrow. “For two months?”

He scowled and looked away. She chuckled and squeezed his wrist. “I’m just teasing you. Honestly, I’m so pleased you still had it. You know I was sort of imagining it travelling around with you?” She slowly wound the length of satin around her palm as she spoke. “I figured if I wasn’t allowed to leave Kirkwall, at least something of mine could escape. I thought to myself, ‘Fenris and the satin ribbon, going off on adventures across the Waking Sea and beyond!’” She chuckled again.

He scoffed. “It has hardly been on adventures. It’s been forgotten in my pocket the entire time.”

“Well then, it should start to see some excitement, shouldn’t it?” Before Fenris could reply, she started wrapping the ribbon around his wrist.

He recoiled slightly. “What are you–”

“Wait, wait!” She deftly tied the ribbon in a loose bow, then released his wrist and smiled at him. “There. One ribbon bracelet, ready to witness some pirating adventures. Just like yours truly.” She curtsied playfully to him.

He scowled at his wrist, then held his hand out to her. “You should take it back. It belonged to your sister.”

She shook her head. “It’s yours now. It’s been with you for months already.” She eyed his wrist approvingly. “Besides, it looks lovely with your skin. I’m far too pale. Mother always said red wasn’t a good colour on me.”

He frowned more deeply as he studied the ribbon on his wrist. Then Hawke suddenly gasped and straightened up. “Oh shit. I’m late to meet Anders!” She ran a hand through her messy short hair and smiled at him. “Thank you for the lesson, Fenris. And sorry about the, um.” She bit her lip, and her cheeks started to flush. She gestured vaguely at herself. “I’m, um. I’ll behave better next time, I promise!” She grinned and squeezed his arm, then ran off toward the infirmary.

Fenris watched as she ran away, then blew out a breath and leaned his elbows on the taffrail once more. One single hour in Hawke’s presence, and it felt like his brain and his patience had been stretched to their limits.

In an hour’s worth of time, she’d waltzed into his quarters uninvited and stared at his cursed tattoos, asked him nosy questions about his past, gotten aroused while he was trying to teach her, then completely diverted the lesson to stare at a bunch of common dolphins instead.

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. That’s exactly what Hawke was: frustrating. She was far too talkative, always asking him questions and making her blasted cheerful comments and asking him to teach her things. Always batting her eyelashes at him and touching him – running those damned slender fingers of hers over his arm and tying her damned red ribbon around his wrist…

Fasta vass. He closed his eyes in exhaustion, but it didn’t help. With his eyes closed, he could only picture her that much more clearly: her pearly teeth nipping her raspberry-red lower lip, and that look in her eyes – that undisguised smolder of heat that he hadn’t expected to see in her innocent bronze eyes…

An unwanted flush of heat suffused his belly again, and he shifted uncomfortably before pushing away from the taffrail. He strode over to the rack of practice weapons and selected a blunted sabre, then began practicing his drills.

Hawke was… confusing. Being around her was confusing. And there was one good way that Fenris could deal with the confusion.

He would avoid her as much as possible.

- CULLEN -

The morning after the escape from Estwatch, Cullen found himself standing unobtrusively near the entrance to the officer’s quarters and watching the morning duties on the Lady Luck.

Piper’s ship was buzzing with activity. The swabbies had just finished their morning’s work, and sunlight glinted off of the water lingering in the crevices on the deck. More than a dozen men were handling the rigging, tugging and tying off the lines with the smooth efficiency of a familiar team. Another dozen men were running sword drills on the main deck, and Fenris seemed to be teaching a wide-eyed Lady Rynne how to handle a dagger. A handful of other crew members were repairing a tear in a sail, and the rest appeared to be enjoying their morning meals while cleaning and oiling their weapons and the other equipment.

Cullen inhaled deeply from the teacup in his hands before taking an appreciative sip. The moment he’d stepped out of Piper’s quarters this morning, a petite Dalish woman wearing an apron had skipped over to him and thrust a cup of tea into his hands. He’d barely had time to stammer out a ‘thank you’ for the luxurious beverage before she’d scampered away saying something about making sure the bread didn’t burn.

Cullen swallowed the fortifying tea and watched the ship’s activity for a moment longer. Every member of Piper’s crew knew their role and seemed to be carrying out their duties diligently. There was none of the lazing about or the drunken fighting that pirates were known for. He’d heard the crew making ribald jokes, it was true, but none that Cullen couldn’t imagine Piper herself making.

In truth, the Lady Luck was run with all the efficiency of any navy ship, and Cullen had no qualms about admitting that he was impressed. He’d known all along that Piper was the captain of this ship, but knowing it was different from seeing it in action. Furthermore, Piper was so free-spirited and loose, almost like the mercurial wind come to life in the shape of a gamine silver-haired elf. She was mischievous and jocular and bold, and Cullen could admit to finding it difficult at times to merge the carefree swashbuckling adventurer with his own idea of what a captain should be: hard discipline and command.

But here was the proof of her captaincy, before his very eyes. If the brisk and efficient activity he was observing was anything to go by, Captain Piper Lavellan ran a very tight ship indeed.

Interestingly, despite the navy-like efficiency, the Lady Luck felt different than a navy ship. It was buzzing with activity, but Cullen felt none of the usual tension that went along with being on a busy ship. The crew moved around the deck with purpose but no rush, and the fighters practicing their drills were smiling and teasing each other in a way that Cullen wasn’t used to seeing in the barracks. The men cleaning their weapons over on the forecastle were laughing and chatting as they worked, and it all seemed very… comfortable.

Comfortable. Cullen was surprised the word had even come to his mind. Comfort was not something he had ever associated with being on any navy ship, not even when he was a youth.

Especially not when I was a youth, he amended. The thought of the cramped crew quarters on the HMS Kinloch still made his skin crawl. The creeping feeling that the ship’s walls were closing around him, with only the feeblest of daylight eking its way through the portholes to reach his desperate eyes…

The memory of his own discomfort still brought him shame. Sometimes Cullen thought that the discomfort had simply never gone away, lingering forever at the back of his mind as he worked his way up through the navy ranks and dissipating only when he was finally, blessedly, reassigned to duty on dry land.

But being here on the Lady Luck was unlike any navy ship he’d ever been assigned to. Cullen didn’t feel the usual tension that gripped his gut when he set foot on a navy ship. Oddly enough, Cullen was feeling nearly as comfortable as he ever did on land.

“Hey, Commander.”

Cullen looked up. Varric was at the helm, and he waved a casual hand for Cullen to join him.

Cullen made his way up the stairs to join the dwarven quartermaster. “Master Tethras,” he said. “Ideal conditions for sailing today. Piper must be pleased.”

Varric smiled. “Oh sure. But she likes it even better when it rains.”

Cullen raised his eyebrows, then smiled as he remembered. “Ah, of course. I should hope a major storm doesn’t strike while I am on board.”

Varric’s smile broadened. “She told you about her love of storms, huh?”

“I believe it’s one of the first things I learned about her,” he replied. He tapped his fingers idly on his cup of tea. “She told me a story once about a tornado; here in the middle of the Amaranthine Ocean, I believe. She said the Lady Luck was lifted a hundred yards into the air before landing back in the water with an enormous splash.”

Varric chuckled. “Of course that’s what she said.”

Cullen smirked at him. “You mean to tell me it’s not true?”

Varric shrugged innocently. “I couldn’t say. I wasn’t on the ship at the time.”

“A story from before your time?” Cullen asked with a smile.

“Yeah,” Varric said. “I think that one was from her childhood.”

Cullen looked at him in surprise. “Her childhood?”

Varric nodded and adjusted the ship’s course slightly. “She practically grew up on this ship. Some of her guys here have known her since she was a kid.”

Cullen stared at him, then looked around the Lady Luck with new appreciation. No wonder Piper was so fond of the ship. She may only have been the captain for a few years, but if she’d been sailing on this ship since she was a child, then of course she would view it as her home.

He sipped thoughtfully from his teacup for a moment. Then Varric spoke again. “So. What’s next for you, Commander? We taking you back to Kirkwall eventually?”

Cullen swallowed his tea. “Yes,” he said, with more confidence than he felt. In truth, he wasn’t quite certain what his next move should be. He hadn’t yet had a chance to consult with Rylen this morning; his faithful lieutenant was running drills with some of Piper’s crewmates, and Cullen was loathe to disrupt their activities, particularly since he wasn’t sure what to say to Rylen yet.

Rylen’s life had been placed in danger, and it was entirely Cullen’s fault. Cullen wanted to have a plan to set things straight with Meredith before returning to Kirkwall, but in truth, he wasn’t sure how to return to Kirkwall without placing an even larger target on Rylen’s back, not to mention his own.

Varric hummed a quiet acknowledgement. “If you wanted to skip out on the navy, I’m sure Piper could find space for you on the ship.”

Cullen smiled at Varric’s jest, but to his surprise, Varric’s expression was serious.

Cullen blinked. “You… you are serious about that. You truly think she would?”

Varric huffed in amusement. “She brought Rynne Hawke on board, and Rynne doesn’t know the first thing about being on a ship. She would definitely let you join the crew, if that’s what you wanted.”

Cullen glanced across the deck at Lady Rynne. She and Fenris were standing at the starboard taffrail now, apparently deep in conversation. Not for the first time today, Piper’s words from the previous night crossed his mind.

She’d invited him to join the crew. Oh, she’d said she was joking, certainly, but the more Cullen thought about it, the more he couldn’t help but wonder if Varric was right. Had Piper meant it when she’d said he could join the Lady Luck’s crew?

He looked at Varric once more. “What made you decide to leave Kirkwall and join Piper’s crew?”

Varric tilted his head and adjusted the steering. “Well, Kirkwall…” He glanced up at Cullen. “Kirkwall’s home, and in some ways, it always will be. The book shop is still mine, by the way, in case you wondered,” he said with a smirk. Then he looked out at the horizon again. “Can I talk frankly? Without this getting back to your, uh, superiors?”

Cullen raised his eyebrows, and a wiggle of trepidation made its way through his gut. He was certain he wasn’t going to like what Varric had to say, but he had no choice but to hear it now. “Of course,” he said.

Varric glanced at him once more before turning his gaze to the ocean ahead. “In the past few years, it’s felt kinda like the navy is, uh, holding the reins a little too much in Kirkwall. For example, taxes have been going up, but we haven’t seen much done for it. Crime is still high in Lowtown. The docks still need repairs. The only changes I’ve seen are the navy getting bigger ships and shinier buckles on their boots.”

Cullen glanced guiltily down at his own salt-worn boots. He’d just had this pair replaced a year ago.

“I know that’s just one example,” Varric went on. “And yeah, yeah, you could say it’s the Viscount who’s at fault. But I think we all know who really has the Viscount’s ear.”

Meredith. Cullen pursed his lips in frustration. Now that he was seeing so many ways that her influence was at play, he was angry at himself for not realizing sooner that she was the one behind the blood lyrium problem.

For lack of anything to say, he sipped his cooling tea. But Varric wasn’t finished. “In fairness to you guys, that’s not the only reason I left Kirkwall.” He shrugged. “It’s just nice being a part of Piper’s crew. I mean, I don’t love being the quartermaster; sometimes I miss the simplicity of being a bookstore owner. And I don’t have time to write as much as I’d like. But the freedom of having Piper for a boss makes it worth it.”

Cullen leaned back against the railing and tilted his head quizzically. “The freedom of having a boss…?”

Varric smiled at him. “Of having Piper for a boss,” he corrected. “She calls the shots, no doubt about that, but she listens to us. We came to rescue you, and that was what she wanted. But now we’ll spend a week or two going where the crew want to go, because she wants everyone to be happy.” He shrugged. “Can’t say there’s much of anything in Kirkwall that’s that equitable.”

Cullen sighed and leaned back against the railing. “No, you can’t,” he said softly.

Varric’s gaze was sympathetic, and Cullen gave him a wry little smile. Then a sultry voice floated into his ears.

“Good morning, Golden Boy.”

Piper was sauntering toward them with a broad smile on her face. Her silver hair was bound in a loose and messy braid, and she was wearing a little sleeveless vest that showed off her arms and the bronzed planes of her belly.

He tore his shameless eyes away from her bare skin and gave her a polite half-bow. “Captain.”

She chuckled and patted his cheek. “Oh Cullen, don’t go formal on me now. There’s no place for manners for a man who’s showing that much chest.” She winked at him salaciously.

He cleared his throat and tugged nervously at the open collar of his shirt, and Varric chuckled. “Does that mean I can be rude to you whenever I want, then?”

She laughed and bumped his shoulder with her hip. “As though you’re ever polite to me anyway, you insubordinate swine.” She looped her hand companionably through Cullen’s elbow. “I’m whisking this one away for breakfast. Holler if you need me.”

“You got it,” Varric said.

Piper smiled up at Cullen. “Are you hungry?”

“Famished, in fact,” he admitted. “I truly can’t recall the last time I ate. Though I suspect I’m less hungry than I would be without that… concoction Anders gave me last night.”

“Ah, you remember that, then!” She laughed as she led him across the deck toward the forecastle. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember much of last night. You were fucking exhausted.”

I recall you joking about me joining your ship, he thought. Then he pushed the thought away. It wasn’t as though he was in a position to consider the offer anyhow, even if she meant it.

“I remember,” he said out loud. “I especially remember your kindness. No, I…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Kindness is insufficient. I… truly, Piper, Rylen and I owe you our lives. I can’t thank you enough—”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Oh Cullen, please! Stop thanking me. It’s becoming so tiresome.” She waved for him to take a seat on a bench near the bow. There was a plain but clean wooden tray on the bench containing two biscuits slathered with jam, two portions of salted beef, and an orange sliced into six pieces.

Cullen gestured politely for her to take a seat. She grinned at him, then plopped down on the bench and crossed her legs. “You were dead to the world last night, you know. You didn’t even hear the celebration on deck, did you?”

Cullen raised his eyebrows as he sat on the bench. “There was a celebration?”

She laughed and picked up a slice of orange. “Yes indeed. It was very rowdy – just how I like it. I didn’t join in this time, but believe me when I said the crew enjoyed themselves.” She bit into the orange slice with relish, then delicately wiped a trickle of juice from the corner of her mouth. “Your man Rylen jumped right into the fun. I shouldn’t be surprised, though; those Starkhaven boys can drink.” She swallowed her bite of orange and smiled mischievously. “I think he’d fit in just fine on my ship.”

A funny swooping feeling filled Cullen’s belly. There it was again: another tongue-in-cheek implication that he – well, Rylen in this case – should join her crew. But Cullen still couldn’t decide if she was serious or not.

He decided to sidestep it for now. He smiled and selected a piece of salted beef. “He was training with your men, as well. He’s very fortunate; he has that uncanny ability to befriend anyone. Until recently, that is.” He sighed and took a bite of beef as he remembered the regrettable threats on Rylen’s life back in the navy headquarters.

Piper’s expression grew serious. “Cullen, what happened? How did you end up on the wrong side of a flintlock in the ass-end of nowhere?”

He swallowed the beef before replying. “My investigation into the blood lyrium problem was becoming too successful, it seems. Or… well.” He twisted his lips ruefully. “I was on the right track, at least. And I failed to hide the fact that I was on the right track.”

She tilted her head curiously, so he continued to explain. “I followed your tip,” he said with a grateful nod. “I went to the Darktown docks and waited until I saw something suspicious, and…” He rose from the bench and idly wandered over to the taffrail. “Well, to make a long story short, I was nearing the conclusion that Meredith Stannard, my commanding officer, was the one behind the blood lyrium trade.”

Piper raised her eyebrows. “You’re kidding. Well, you did say it seemed to be an inside job.” She wandered over to join him and hopped up to sit on the taffrail.

“Yes, I did. But somehow, I didn’t imagine…” He trailed off, watching nervously as Piper swung one leg over the side of the taffrail to dangle carelessly over the open ocean below.

She comfortably folded her other leg up on the taffrail, then shot him a quizzical look. “Is something wrong?”

“N-no, nothing,” he stammered. There was no point asking her to come down from her precarious perch; if he expressed concern about her safety, she would only laugh.

“Er, what was I… oh yes. Meredith.” He forced his eyes from her dangerously dangling leg back up to her bright-eyed face. “Well, as I mentioned, I did not hide my investigation well enough. I…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I placed Rylen in danger by acquiring his assistance, and Meredith had us sent to Estwatch. Ostensibly to scout the blasted place for a new trading colony–”

Piper barked out a scathing laugh. “You must be fucking joking. That place, a trading colony?”

“I know,” Cullen said flatly. “It’s… it is laughable. She must truly have been desperate to jettison us so blatantly.” He ran a hand through his unfortunately curling hair. “In any case, we made the trip to Estwatch without incident, but I knew it was just a matter of time before her men made a move against us. Within a day of our arrival, Ser Alrik–”

“That scum that I killed?” Piper interrupted. She snorted dismissively. “Good riddance, by the way.”

Cullen shot her a tiny smile, then leaned his elbows on the taffrail. “Within a day, he ‘found’ blood lyrium in my quarters and accused me of corruption.”

Piper’s face slackened with shock, then twisted with anger. “You’re not serious.”

“Unfortunately, I am,” Cullen said tiredly. “I argued, he demanded that Rylen and I confess, I refused. There was an altercation, and…” He sighed again. “We fled Alrik and his men. We were forced to hide on the island for almost two days. When they finally caught up with us, I managed to kill one of them while helping Rylen to escape. And thus the charges against me became corruption and murder. After that… well, you came.” He shot her a small, grateful smile, then looked out across the horizon at the shadowy shape of Llomerynn in the distance.

A moment later, Piper reached over and squeezed his hand.

Without really even thinking about it, Cullen turned his hand over so her fingers were resting on his palm. They were small and slender but tough with calluses, and as Cullen idly studied her hand, she twined her fingers with his.

He swallowed hard and met her gaze, and butterflies burst to life in his belly. Her eyebrows were lifted with sympathy, and her big hazel eyes were warm and kind, and…

… and there was a P branded on her wrist. A cruel mark of white standing out against the warm bronze of her skin that told everyone, in no uncertain terms, that she was a pirate.

No matter how fond he was of Piper, she was still a pirate captain, and he was a commander of the Kirkwall Navy. When Cullen returned to his post, Piper would return to the sea, and this… partnership, or truce, or whatever they wanted to call it – this would come to an end.

They would likely see each other again, especially if Cullen managed to undo some of Meredith’s more outrageous laws once she was stripped of her rank. But this warmth in his gut and this wistful pulling feeling behind his sternum… There was nowhere this could go.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, then returned his gaze to his cold cup of tea and reluctantly released Piper’s hand. “I… I suppose I hoped for better. With Meredith as my admiral, that is. It’s disheartening to realize you’ve dedicated your life to something, only to find it is not what you had thought. Not what you had… hoped.”

She was quiet for a moment, and Cullen shot her another quick glance. Her lips were twisted with sympathy, and when he met her eye, she shrugged sadly. “I’m sorry, Cullen. I… well, if the world was fair, then shitty things would only happen to shitty people. But then, if the world was fair, we pirates wouldn’t need to exist.” She shot him a cheeky smile.

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if a normal lawful life on land gave everyone what they needed to survive, then that’s where most people would be,” she said. “But everyone on this ship is here because it’s the better alternative.” She pulled the scrap of cloth from the end of her braid, then started unravelling her braid as she continued to speak. “If my crewmates followed the laws of the lands they came from, Fenris would still be some asshole’s slave. Anders would be stuck with the Ferelden Navy, and Rynne would probably be stuck marrying some rich old guy. They’re all here because they want to be, and that’s what matters.”

She ran her hands through her hair, loosing it from the constraints of the braid that had held it in place. A sweet and spicy scent wafted from the wavy silver cloud, and Cullen forced himself to pay attention to her words rather than the smell of her hair.

“This life was their choice, you see?” she said, oblivious to his inappropriate focus on her hair. “It’s what they chose. And if they decided they didn’t want to be on the Lady Luck anymore, well…” She shrugged and pushed her hair back from her shoulder. “Some pirate captains make their crew sign a contract. I don’t keep crew members against their will. But my point is, everyone is here because something was unfair. There was some kind of shitty injustice where they came from, so they found themselves on my ship instead.” She casually leaned back on her palms. “We follow the code of the Lady Luck. Other than that, we’re free to do whatever the fuck we like.”

Cullen looked at her in surprise. “The code of the Lady Luck? What is that?”

She widened her eyes, then treated him to a slow smile. “Oh, Golden Boy. I’ve never mentioned this to you? It’s the set of laws every crew member has to follow while they’re on my ship.”

He gaped at her. “You… you have laws?”

She laughed merrily and ran her hands through her hair, releasing yet more of the warm and tangy scent from the wavy strands. “Yes, we do. Are you interested in reading them?”

“Very much, in fact,” he said earnestly.

Her smile became wicked. “Well, you can’t. For pirates’ eyes only.” She shrugged and leaned back on her palms once more. “If you were to ever join my crew, on the other hand…” She winked at him, then looked out to sea.

His belly swooped once more. This was the third time now that she’d jested about this. But Cullen simply couldn’t take it as a joke anymore.

He studied her in silence, admiring the curl of the smile on her lips and the playful tug of the wind through her unruly hair until finally she turned back to meet his eye. In silence, they stared at each other until the smile slowly melted from her lips, leaving an uncharacteristically serious look on her face.

She licked her lips, then smiled again. “Why are you staring at me? Like what you see, do you?” She lifted her tattooed shoulder in a coquettish manner.

He kept his steady gaze on her face. “Piper… would you genuinely consider asking me to join your crew?”

The jocularity fled her face, and Cullen’s belly flipped over once more: her expression was suddenly bright with hope. “Why? Would you be willing to consider it?”

He took a slow, careful breath. Clearly the thought had crossed his mind multiple times today. He genuinely couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this relaxed, or the last time he had slept this soundly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in anyone’s company who made him feel so much at ease the way Piper did. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had supported and defended him as fiercely Piper had.

But the decision about his next move wasn’t just about Cullen himself. There were bigger issues that needed to be considered; the Kirkwall Navy was undeniably corrupt, and Cullen couldn’t simply walk away if they were placing the city – and his goodhearted comrades – at risk.

He gazed into Piper’s beautiful hazel eyes. “Piper, I…” He exhaled heavily, but she saved him from saying the most difficult part.

“You have to see this through in Kirkwall,” she said softly.

He nodded. “I must. I have no… I have no choice.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how sad they sounded, especially in light of Piper’s inspiring talk about her crew and their motivations for being on the Lady Luck.

He looked sadly down at his cup of tea. Then Piper spoke again. “All right. How can we help?”

He looked at her. He must have misheard. “You… you want to help the Kirkwall Navy?” he said slowly.

She snorted. “No. I want to help you.”

He stared at her. Her lovely face was friendly and matter-of-fact, as though her offer to help him was no big deal.

He swallowed the rising lump in his throat. “But… your crew,” he croaked. “Will they agree to… to helping me?”

She shrugged and ruffled her hair. “Sure, if I throw enough treasure at them.”

He raised his eyebrows, and she chuckled. “I’m joking, Golden Boy. Of course I’ll run it past them first. And trust me, they’ll be in an extra agreeable mood after we spend a few nights in Rialto.” With these words, her lips lifted into a very broad and very mischievous grin.

Cullen’s stomach, meanwhile, dropped like a stone. “Rialto?” he blurted. “A few nights? Piper, I can’t go to Rialto, it’s… it’s–”

“–the finest and most notorious pirate port on this side of the Amaranthine Ocean?” she finished cheerfully. “I know. And trust me, Cullen, it’ll do you some good.”

“Do me some–? How?” he asked incredulously. “I’m – Piper, if I’m spotted… cavorting in a pirate port–”

She laughed and playfully patted his cheek. “Cullen. Relax,” she said soothingly. “What happens in Rialto stays in Rialto. But you don’t have to cavort if you don’t want to.” She snickered. “You definitely have to come off the ship, though, because I said so. I’m the captain, and what I say goes.”

Her grin was wicked and wide, and Cullen gave her a chiding look. “Piper.”

She laughed once more. Then, to Cullen’s horror, she stood up on the taffrail with only one hand clinging cavalierly to the nearest line.

“Listen up, you sorry lot!” she bellowed to the crew. “Change of plans! We’re going to bypass Llomerynn and head straight for Rialto!”

An enormous cheer rose from the entire crew, and Piper grinned down at Cullen. “All right, Golden Boy. Are you ready to see what the pirate life is really like?”

“Do I have a choice?” he said, half in jest. He reached one hand up to her entreatingly.

To his relief, she took his hand and hopped down to the deck. She shook her wild hair back from her face and smiled, but her smile was soft now instead of cheeky.

“Of course you have a choice,” she told him. “That’s the whole point.”

He studied her open, guileless, beautiful face. Finally he took a deep breath and nodded.

“All right, Captain Lavellan,” he said. “I will follow your lead. Just this once,” he added in a mock-scolding tone.

She grinned at him and tugged the collar of his shirt. “That’s all I ask, Golden Boy. A few nights in Rialto, and maybe you’ll change your tune.”

Her eyes were dancing with laughter, and Cullen smiled at her joyful face. He couldn’t abandon his duty to Kirkwall; he had to return eventually, and Piper knew it too.

But while he was figuring out his next move, he might as well follow Piper’s lead. It couldn’t hurt to learn more about a pirate’s life. From a purely educational perspective, of course.

He admired her bright troublemaker’s grin. He barely knew what to expect from this trip to Rialto, but he knew this much: it was going to be an adventure.

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