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#like girl!!! this ship is sinking you are not going down with it!!!
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Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2
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Part 1: Linked Here!
AO3: Linked Here :)
Fandom: My Hero Academia
Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋
Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out
CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, semi-spicy scenes, lemon
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Scenes from the afternoon hookup replay in your mind over and over as you sit in the library at a battered old desk in the history section. All you can think about is Shoto’s mouth. And his hands. And his abs!! And his sweet face.
You twiddle your pen in your hand as you try to draft out an essay for class. Unfortunately, every time you try to jot down a few thoughts your mind goes blissfully blank and you remember the tender way he spoke to you.
"How am I going to get anything done now, knowing that you can kiss like this?"
“You’re so beautiful. Your skin is so soft…I never realized how great it would be to touch you.”
“Find me later so we can discuss this.”
You look down at your watch excitedly – 7:55 PM. You eagerly wait for Shoto to appear so the two of you can talk and – with any luck – canoodle amongst the history textbooks. You sit patiently as the time ticks by.
Soon it’s 8:30 PM. You’re not worried, though. Shoto probably assumed you’d want to get some work done first.
9:15 PM rolls around and you start to get worried. You try to distract yourself with school work as doubt creeps into your mind.
10 PM – Shoto still hasn’t showed.
“Shit shit shit.” You check your phone again and again as you wade through the endless wave of homework your teachers have assigned. You keep losing yourself in a math problem or in a passage of your History textbook, only to remember with a jolt that you were expecting to see Shoto and the bastard hasn’t showed.
At 10:30 PM you realize with a sinking feeling that it’s almost past curfew. You pack up your things and prepare to head back to the dorms. There’s a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach that you can’t shake.
You slide your books into your bag as a anxious thoughts dance through your mind like annoying fruit flies: Does Shoto regret your mid-afternoon hookup? Is he going to pretend it never happened? Did you push him too far? Does he think you’re a slut for stripping off your shirt and basically pressing his face into your naked breasts!? The synapses of your brain jump through dozens of equally horrid and embarrassing scenarios as you march back to your dorm room, blushing furiously with humiliation.
You run through the afternoon’s events in your head for what feels like the hundredth time, trying to find a clue as to why Shoto would have left you waiting alone in the library. Your cheeks burn hotter as you recall the gentle way Shoto had kissed your neck before leaning in to capture your lips in one of his first kisses. "How am I going to get anything done now, knowing that you can kiss like this?" You shiver as you think back to how gentle he was, how each caress felt so loving and intimate.
You shake your head to clear it. Shoto must have a valid excuse for not meeting you in the library as he had promised – no boy could kiss someone that intimately and then instantly cast her aside, right?
Before long, you’re walking through the doors of Class 1A’s dorm building. You shiver with discomfort as you recall how earlier that day you essentially scaled the side of a building for a boy. Does Shoto think you’re an absolute fool with the extremes you went to for a quick make out session? You hope not.
You walk up the stairs and past the common area. You see most of Class 1A studying quietly. Sero, Izuku, Kirishima and Ida sit around one of the kitchen tables reviewing their math homework while some of the girls compare English notes on the couch. To your relief, Shoto isn’t there. Mina waves to you enthusiastically, beckoning you to join her and YaMomo as they review the finer points of Hamlet. You politely decline and make a beeline for your room. You turn the key in the lock and it clicks – within moments, you are blessedly alone.
You toss your heavy book bag to the ground and prepare to wallow in self-pity. It’s 10:56pm and Shoto still hasn’t reached out to you. Your phone is vacant of text messages and your brain is absolutely fried from schoolwork.
You dim your room lights and switch on the favorite fairy lights for some peaceful ambiance. Time for some self-care, bitch! You think resolutely as you swap your uniform for your favorite pair of pajamas. You toss your phone to the floor with abandon and climb into your comfy bed. You breathe in deeply, allowing yourself to revel in the coziness of the dorm room.
You take out your five-minute bullet journal and write a quick list of things you're grateful for: 1. The opportunity to study at UA 2. Your lovely and encouraging friends and classmates 3. Your cozy room and the roof over your head 4. Shoto’s mouth 5. Shoto’s abs 6. Shoto’s goddamn hard AF dick
Um. No.
You snap the journal shut before you get too derailed.
You pull your comforter over your head and sit in silence for a moment. You’ve never been the kind of person to go completely boy-crazy. You always used to make fun of those girls who would go gaga over pretty boys and their texts and their kisses. But as you recall the searing way that Shoto kissed your lips earlier that day, you suddenly understand what all the boy-crazed girly hype was all about. Oh my god. You have a crush. A big sloppy embarrassing crush.
In the silence of your room, you suddenly here a buzzing noise coming from the general direction of your book bag. You struggle to disentangle yourself from your sheets and your journal goes flying. You ignore its crash landing as you slip from your bed and collect your phone from where it lays abandoned on the carpeted floor.
It’s Shoto.
Your heart skips.
Todoroki: Y/N. Are you awake?
You bite your lip, unsure how to respond. Did Shoto just send you his version of “U up?”
Y/N: Yes, I’m still up.
Todoroki: I know it’s late, but can I stop by?
You tense. Oh God – he’s going to come by to tell you that he’s not interested. He’s going to thank you for your time making out and say that you probably should avoid hooking up in the future because it’s a huge distraction. You’re sure that whatever he has to say is going to be negative and leave you feeling embarrassed. Why else would he have skipped out on your rendezvous in the library?
You take a deep breath. You have always been fairly practical with a mind for strategy, two qualities that had really set you apart when you had taken the UA entrance exams. You know that the best course of action here is to rip off the Band-Aid sooner rather than later. Better to know how he feels about your hookup now
Your heart sinks as you type out:
Y/N: Sure, I’ll leave the door unlocked for you. Just come in. Try not to be seen by anyone.
Todoroki: Of course. See you shortly.
Your heart beats double time as you look down at yourself. Your pajama set consists of a silky blue top with matching shorts that don’t leave much to the imagination. You chew on your thumb nervously – should you change into something more appropriate? No – Shoto has seen your boobs. A little bit of leg is not going to kill the half hot half cold hero in training.
You quickly remake your bed and kick your book bag beneath your desk so that the floor is clear. You plop down on your smooth comforter and wait, knotting your hands together as you anticipate Shoto’s arrival.
A few anxious minutes pass, and then you hear gentle footsteps pad down the hallway outside your door. The knob turns quietly, and in a moment Shoto Todoroki steps across your threshold, quietly closing the door behind him. He reaches down to turn the lock with a gentle snap of his wrist.
You take him in – he’s wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a soft white t-shirt. You’ve never seen him dressed so casually before and you assume that these are what he wears as pajamas in the privacy of his own dorm room. His hair is tousled and damp from a recent shower, and the burned side of his face shines where he’s clearly applied some kind of scar cream or moisturizer. His outfit projects a comfy air, but his expression is dark and stormy. Your heartbeat quickens in fear – what could possibly have caused him to be in such a tempestuous mood? Was this about your kissing?
You bite at your lip with worry. But when your eyes lock, his expression softens. In two quick strides, he’s at the bed. He leans in close so that your noses almost touch.
“Hi.” He says softly, before dipping his mouth to meet yours. You blink in surprise as your mouths melt together. His eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the kiss. Pleasure radiates up and down your spine as you kiss him back. He places both his palms on your hips and pulls you closer, letting out a small moan of satisfaction as he slides his tongue into your mouth. How silly you feel for thinking he didn’t want you like this!
After a few moments, you break apart.
“Hey there.” You whisper, bringing your hands up to cup his beautiful jaw. He leans in to kiss you again and you hold him in place. He stops and looks down at you inquisitively.
“I waited for you in the library, you didn’t show.” You say slowly, softly.
“My father decided to take me through some drills in one of the school’s gyms. I only finished a half hour ago.” His expression becomes dull as he speaks. “I’m sorry to leave you waiting. I wanted to see you - but I’m not allowed on my phone during training.”
Relief must have flooded your features, because he tilts his head to the side questioningly. You hold back a giggle – the way his head is tilted makes him look like a sweet dog asking its owner for a treat.
“What’s wrong?”
You sigh and pull yourself further onto the bed, patting the spot next to you as an invitation. Shoto climbs up next to you, sinking into the deliciously soft fabric. His eyes widen slightly in surprise.
“This is so comfortable.” He says, pressing his palm into the plush fabric beneath him. You recall his sparse traditional bedroom and realize that he’s never laid on a proper puffy mattress before.
“Hold on – it gets better.” You say pushing him off the bed so you can pull down the covers. You slip beneath the comforter and gesture for him to rejoin you. He climbs in clumsily, unsure how to position himself within the sheets. You prop a pillow beneath his shoulders as he lays down on his side. You toss the comforter over the two of you and lay across from him, feet almost touching beneath the warm layers of bedding.
“Cozy?” You ask as Shoto settles into the bed.
“Yeah.” He says in quiet voice, propping himself up on an elbow. “I always thought beds like this were excessive but…maybe there’s some merit to this.” He eyes a blue Squirtle plush that sits next to you in the bed. “Can I…hold that?”
You grin, biting back a laugh as you reach over to grab the Pokémon plush. “This is Squirtle – he’s one of my favorite plushies.” You hold up the stuffed animal and wiggle it in front of Shoto’s eyes as if it’s dancing. “Squirtle, Squirtle” you say in a low tone, trying to emulate the television character’s voice the best you can.
Shoto gives you a weird look. “I don’t get it. Why are you just repeating its name in a strange voice?”
“Shoto…have you…have never seen Pokémon!?” You almost screech in disbelief, before throwing a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself. You quickly remember that you are in the dorms and the walls aren’t super thick.
“No, I wasn’t allowed to watch television unless it was about Pro hero work.” Shoto says, a tinge of sadness flowing along with his words. “But it looks cute and round and I really just want to hold it and squish it?”
“Yeah, that’s the general reaction to plushies. Dude, we need to get you that whale pillow you liked on Pinterest. You need more cuteness in your life.”
“Well I have you, don’t I?” Shoto smiles softly. “You bring more than enough cute into my life.” He reaches out and grabs the plush from your hands and squishes it a bit. “But this is pretty nice, too.”
Your face grows hot at the compliment. Shoto tucks the Squirtle under his arm and shifts around in the sheets until he finds a comfortable position. He looks adorable and soft as he cradles the bright plush in his strong, muscular hands.
When he finally settles in, he looks up at you enquiringly. “What’s wrong?” He repeats, looping you both back to the conversation form earlier.
“So…” You sigh with embarrassment. “When you didn’t show up and I didn’t hear from you…” You pause and Shoto gives Squirtle a squeeze. “I thought you didn’t want to see me again. Or at least that you didn’t want to make out with me again.”
“Oh.” Shoto wasn’t expecting this. “I thought I made it very clear how…enthusiastically…I enjoyed our time together this afternoon. I didn’t realize I had left any room for you to question my attraction to you.”
“That’s nice to hear…but when you didn’t show at the library or send a text, I assumed the worst. My mind kind of went into full-blown panic mode. I thought maybe once you had time to reflect on our hookup, that you realized you didn’t like it or that you didn’t really like me. To be perfectly honest, I’ve never felt that way before. Usually something like this wouldn’t bother me.” You take a deep, steadying breath. “But I think I really like you and want to be close to you, and the thought that you might not feel the same was tearing me apart for the last couple of hours.”
The words come tumbling from your mouth before you can stop and think them through. Why are you saying all of this!? Why does being around Shoto make you feel so comfortable and open to sharing? It’s so weird – and you’re absolutely sure he’s going to think you’re some kind of over sharing freak for telling him all of this.
Shoto looks at you thoughtfully for a long moment before speaking. “Something I have always admired about you is your ability to be straightforward about what you’re thinking and feeling. Most people aren’t like that, and I have a hard time navigating more subtle situations. Thank you for telling me exactly what you’re thinking – I value it so much.” He runs a hand through his slightly damp hair, moving the bangs out of his bright eyes.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I had abandoned you. I wanted to come to the library so badly. I want to kiss you so badly – it’s all I’ve been thinking about tonight.” His voice is so earnest that you believe him.
“Let me match your honesty with some of my own - my father is extremely strict. Ever since I was born, he’s pushed me to be better. To be stronger. He wants me to surpass him. He wants me to take All Might’s place as the number one hero.”
You gasp at this. Of course you knew that Todoroki was ambitious, but this…
“I don’t have any intentions of becoming harsh and cruel like my father. I’m not even sure if I want to go for the top spot on the hero charts.” He admits, almost bitterly. “That’s the path that my father has laid out for me. He’s obsessed with my training. With my ‘potential.’ But he doesn’t seem to give a fuck about how I feel. Excuse my language.” Shoto looks so sad, so despairing. He hugs the plush close, his chin tucked into his chest as he continues.
“I just want to help people and make them smile – just like All Might. But my old man just doesn’t seem to get that. Today, when he noticed how distracted I was… he didn’t ask if something was wrong. He just pushed me even harder.” Shoto avoids your gaze. “I think he purposefully pushed me to train into the night to keep me from meeting up with you. In his eyes…you’re a huge distraction for his prized creation.”
Suddenly you notice how exhausted Shoto looks – there are pale bags beneath his eyes. You scan his body and see light bruises beginning to form on the exposed skin of his arms. You wonder - just what kind of training has Endeavor been subjecting him to?
You had never guessed that behind Shoto’s calm and collected exterior, there is just a normal teenage boy trying desperately to please his father, while simultaneously trying to defy him. The whole relationship seems complicated and messy and you’re sure what Shoto is telling you is only the tip of a chaotic Todoroki family dynamic iceberg.
“Oh, Shoto.” You say softly. You scoot forward and wrap your arms around him. He freezes, unsure of what to do but nevertheless comforted by the sudden closeness. You reach behind him and card your fingers through his hair. You see goose bumps emerge across his skin, and realize that he likely hasn’t been touched this way before.
“Is it okay to touch you like this?” You whisper.
He breathes out a shaky “yes” as he moves to toss the Squirtle plush to the floor. Once his arms are free, he works to wrap them around you. He rests one strong hand on your back and slings the other around your delicate waist. He draws you close to him and holds you tightly as you continue to run your fingers softly through his two-toned hair.
He’s silent as he buries his head into your shoulder. There’s an emotion that’s radiating off of his body that you can’t quite place – sadness? Frustration? Maybe even relief? After a few moments of running your fingers through his hair and gently up and down his back, he finally starts to relax. The tense muscles in his shoulders loosen, and he seems to come back to himself.
“I’m sorry Y/N.” He whispers, muffled as he turns his face into the crook of your neck. “I’m not great at expressing my emotions. I can try to put it into words…I’m feeling so weighed down right now.”
“Because of your father’s expectations?” You prompt, running a light fingertip down his spine. He shivers a bit in response, but not in an unpleasant way.
“Sometimes I wonder if he sees me as a real person, as a son. Or am I just his big project?” Shoto wonders aloud, his voice a bit strained. You feel his eyelashes flutter against the sensitive skin beneath your jawline.
“Shoto...that sounds like a lot to carry. You’re just a high school student – your father shouldn’t be putting that kind of pressure on you. It’s not normal.” You tuck a lock of red hair behind his porcelain ear. “This situation sounds so complicated. It’s no wonder you feel so conflicted. I’m here any time you need a friendly ear to listen as you work through it.” You continue to caress him softly over his clothes. He begins to lean into your touch hungrily. “But right now – at this moment – you’re safe. In this room, in my arms, you don’t need to hold other people’s expectations of you in your heart. When you’re with me, I want you to feel that you can just be Shoto.”
You still your fingers as you let your words sink in. Shoto is radiating a deep sort of sadness that you wish you could smooth away with your fingertips.
“Thank you.” He says, his voice breaking a tiny bit as he processes your words. After a few beats Shoto exhales deeply, his breath ruffles your hair. “I’m not used to talking about these things. Actually, I’m not really used to talking much at all. Or being touched.” You can feel the blush on his delicate cheeks warm the skin of your neck.
“I can tell.” You say before you can stop yourself. To your surprise, he chuckles.
“I don’t know why it’s so easy to do these things with you – talking, touching…kissing.” He lifts his head off of your shoulder to look you square in the face. “There’s something about you…”
Suddenly, the room feels as if it’s charged with Denki’s electrification quirk as his bright mismatched eyes meet your own.
“I think I’d like to continue exploring this with you.” He says matter-of-factly, moving his legs to intertwine with yours.
“W-what does that mean?” Your breath catches in your throat as he dips forward to kiss down your neck.
“It means…I want to keep doing this. Kissing. Talking. I suppose I want to keep getting to know you like this? Intimately.” He places a soft kiss in the hollow behind your earlobe. “Would you like that as well?”
“Yes.” You breathe, with zero hesitation. He smiles into your neck before running the edges of his teeth lightly across your smooth skin. You let out a soft moan in response.
“Good. Then we’ll figure this out together.” He moves to kiss your cheek soundly before releasing you from his embrace. “But right now it’s well past midnight, and we both need our sleep if we’re going to continue to be top of our class alongside YaMomo and Ida. If we both let our grades slip, it might tip people off.” He moves to get off the bed.
“Hey – wait!” You grab his arm and pull him back under the covers. “I have no problem with you staying here for the night.”
“But wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” Shoto’s face reddens, but he lets himself be drawn back into your gentle embrace.
“Would it be anymore inappropriate than you making out with my tits?” Shoto’s face burns an even brighter red at this question, but he also looks quite pleased with himself (you assume he’s recalling the way he kissed down your breasts earlier that day as he smirks). “Sharing a bed should be perfectly responsible as long as we keep all of our clothes on. You said you want to explore? Well get over here and let’s figure out if you make a good big spoon.”
This earns one of those rare full smiles from Shoto – he practically glows. “Alright.”
He pulls himself close to you. You reach above your head and switch off the string lights that wind their way around your room, and the tiny dorm fills with darkness.
You turn to face the wall and scoot your body back until you feel Shoto’s solid warmth. He reaches around to pull you close until bodies are touching, flush together. You tuck yourself into Shoto’s warm, muscular body and sigh with contentment.
“So do I make a good big spoon?” He questions, tentatively nuzzling his face into your hair and inhaling deeply. “Mmm, your hair smells like lavender.”
“We’ll need plenty of practice to truly ascertain the full range of your spooning abilities.” You say in a faux-academic voice, causing him to snort out a laugh. “But so far you’re doing great.”
You interlock your legs and pull his strong arms around you. You wiggle a bit as you try to find the comfiest spot in the mattress. You unintentionally grind a bit against Shoto and jolt when you feel something hard pressed against the curve of your ass.
“Sorry.” He mutters softly, embarrassed.
“Maybe I’ll take care of that for you tomorrow.” You yawn as you close your eyes and settle in for a good night’s rest. You grin into the darkness as you feel Shoto’s dick get even harder as he mulls over your response, wondering at what you could possibly mean by “take care of that.”
You didn’t realize you were so tired. You’re dimly aware of Shoto’s breathing growing slow as he drifts off into a comfortable sleep. You smile softly to yourself as you slide further into his embrace. This poor, touch-starved boy has been through so many terrible things and your heart aches for him.
Even in sleep he’s tense, his jawline stiff and his muscles almost locked around you. But he’s warm and soft and smells like jasmine and mint tea. You hope that for the next few hours you can provide him with a safe harbor to rest and escape his troubles. You let your eyes flutter close and breathe in deeply, dreaming of Shoto’s sweet face as you fall gently into sleep’s embrace.
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mochrincrunch · 1 year
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ships (boats) are body horror and their intimacy with the ocean instills in me great unease
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saerins · 10 months
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𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒐
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+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 2.1k | content: fluff, slight angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of jealousy/insecurities
notes: of course when i’m back i write for sae … who else is possible of holding me hostage like this ? :’)
summary: he’s stupid and stubborn and bad at being a boyfriend. you make him want to be better though. always.
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itoshi sae has a bad habit.
he’s not used to relationships, or the notion of having to care for someone in a certain romantic way that tests his own boundaries. this much is apparent in the way he’s only ever had one relationship before you and it was over before he started, because he’d chosen career over his ex.
and no, the situation right now with you isn’t like that. even so, it’s tough; when you feel down for no particular reason and sae doesn’t know how to handle it. and sometimes he’s tired too and you catch him at the wrong timing and you both end up sulking the entire night.
you won’t lie—you have a bad habit too. you can’t really bring yourself to express exactly how you feel. it’s difficult to open up just like that, especially when you aren’t used to it. but sae’s especially confused with how to handle these situations, like right now.
right now; when you’re sobbing in front of him and he’s feeling frustrated. when you can’t really handle the heat well—he’s a world-renowned soccer player, one of the world eleven. and next to him, no one even knows you. not when you have a non-disclosure agreement and have to keep everything super private.
it’s funny how you thought it’d be simple. then again, you didn’t factor in all the external disturbances. it tests your patience whenever sae makes the headlines when he’s out for a simple lunch with friends and makes it to the front page with a dating rumor with a top model. it’s tough for you to hold it in when you see people shipping him with someone you can only wish to be.
insecurity just hits you sometimes.
“is it really that hard to just assure me, sae?”
that includes now, when you’ve just had a shitty day and he’s so so tired from all the events he’s had to go to now, having to parade around with that top model, all to promote a brand’s upcoming fragrance line. emotions run high, neither of you have the capacity to deal with this right now.
“look, i’m so fucking tired, can we just deal with this in the morning?”
some pessimistic part of you is telling you he’ll just brush it off in the morning—all the jealousy, the frustration. you don’t even think you can last staying mad at him for that long.
“what’s the problem with talking about it now?”
“i don’t want to talk about it now, could you just let it go for the night?”
both of your voices get higher and higher, just a hair’s breadth away from actual shouting. that’s when sae reels himself in, averting his gaze.
and there goes sae’s bad habit; grabbing his keys and walking out of your shared apartment, no umbrella even though it’s raining outside and he’ll get soaked just trying to walk to the car.
you can’t find it in yourself to tell him to stay safe because you’re all out of energy tonight. everything has been sucked dry into your anxiety, and you’re spent. now what can you even do besides curl up on the couch, wondering if you’re too much?
when your phone lights up, you catch the wallpaper—a picture of sae looking off camera while he presses a kiss on your head.
it just makes you feel worse.
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he’s tired. his efforts are spent. on soccer, not you. but still. it’s exhausting. couldn’t you have just waited for a few more fucking hours?
he’s tired. so fucking tired.
“hey.”
it’s a lame greeting, but that’s all he can manage right now. shidou’s in his doorway, a cock in his brow and a very annoyed look on his face.
“oi, i got a girl here—”
“don’t care, i’ll just crash on the couch,” sae cuts him off, trudging through the door and settling himself on the leather black couch, the familiarity sinking in. he used to live here with shidou before he got together with you after all.
shidou mumbles something like suit yourself before he leaves his old roommate be, mulling over the remains of his relationship with you.
sae opens his phone, the picture of you at the beach that he snapped glaring at him in this dim light. he swallows the lump in his throat—he doesn’t know how to feel. part of him knows that you feel like shit each time he does this; you’ve made it known over at least three different occasions now. but his head’s throbbing way too much and his muscles are way too sore and all he really wanted was just to come home to you, to the peacefulness he always loves.
is he really the asshole here?
a notification pops up on his phone an hour later. sae’s first train of thought is to wonder if it’s you. but it’s nothing important. it’s just oliver going over the next training’s details. the same old thing. but then sae looks up at the date and he curses inwardly.
it’s your second year anniversary. two years since you’d dated this fickle, troublesome guy.
sae’s head ducks between his palms, elbows resting on his thighs, as he considers the weight of his words.
this morning he woke up without even so much as a greeting for you; all he knew was he’d be late for practice if he didn’t leave in exactly five minutes. he’d rushed out the door and only responded to your morning greeting with a grunt. sae didn’t spare you any time for the rest of the day either, when you’d attempted to ask him out for dinner. he left you on read before ultimately tossing his phone to the side. when he came back home you’d given him a kiss and he barely reacted, too tired to give you anything even when you showed him the big dinner spread you’d cooked.
now he’s here—in an apartment at the other end of the city that’s no longer his while he left you alone in your shared apartment, leaving the argument unresolved and letting you stew in your own thoughts.
sae lets the time fly right by, staring at the ceiling while he contemplates everything. but the answer is plain and simple to him: you.
he’s tired and he’s hopelessly invested in soccer and he shouldn’t have time for anything else in his life but he wants you. he doesn’t know nearly half the right things to do in whatever situations, but the thought that he could really possibly lose you this time is enough to overwhelm him—sae grabs his car keys and leaves just as shidou and his girl leaves the room.
“oi, made up already?” he shouts after him through his front door.
sae rolls his eyes and ignores him; all he needed was some time to himself anyway. he’s glad shidou wasn’t there to poison his head with anything (or more like, he wasn’t there to convince him to drink his guts off).
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ten minutes later he’s in his car and speeding back to the apartment, back to you. because no, it’s not too hard for him to assure you—it’s what he should have done. just because he’s used to being the center of dating rumours doesn’t mean you are. just because he knows it’s nothing doesn’t mean you don’t get insecure because of them.
after all, he remembers what he told you that night he asked you to be his. that he’ll make sure you’re happy. being happy all the time isn’t realistic, but at the very least, sae should’ve known better than to keep leaving you alone with your thoughts.
he speeds through the familiar city roads, however fast he’s going just doesn’t seem fast enough. but he still makes it safely back to your shared apartment within twenty minutes, and hopefully still fast enough to make sure you’re not completely disappointed in him.
it’s still raining and the living room lights are still on and he can faintly make out where you’re pacing the room through the blinds. sae feels like a creep staring at you from his car, but his heart’s pounding loudly in his ears and he can’t help but think he’s seen that sleek black car parked next to his somewhere before.
keys out the ignition, rain pattering lightly on his head, he gets out only to meet who he knows has been there for you since day one.
“done running already?” the hostility of your best friend irks him, but he can’t say he didn’t earn it. “that’s faster than i thought.”
“reo.”
your visitor rakes his hand through his purple hair, sighing and rolling his eyes. thanks to sae’s busy schedule, he hasn’t really had time to hang out with any of your friends, and probably hence their usual animosity towards him. though, well, nagi seems to be more indifferent than anything.
“if you’re here to break up with her, don’t worry, i’ll take care of her,” reo tells him, an air of indifference surrounding him. three guesses who you go to whenever you feel upset about your relationship.
sae clenches his fists, reminding himself that reo’s your best friend and punching him would do more harm than good. “i won’t,” is all sae says before he pushes past him, already done with whatever this conversation is.
reo scoffs, “for a guy who loves her, you do a shit job of showing it.”
and although sae shuts the lobby doors right after, reo’s words stay ingrained in his head. it’s not like sae doesn’t know it, but fuck if he knows what to do about it. but when he opens the front door and is greeted by the sight of your red puffy eyes, he forgets everything. forgets the frustration and the anger and the stupid excuses in his head—they’re all secondary when it comes to you anyway.
his feet take him straight to you, pulling you against his chest and holding you tight.
“i’m sorry,” he says, and that’s the easiest it’s ever come out.
from your lack of response, sae finds himself hoping for the best, hoping that he didn’t just lose you because of his stupid impulses. but then he feels your arms wrap around his waist and he hears himself breathing a sigh of relief.
“you’re an ass, you know that?” you sniffle, and it’s kind of hard to breathe when he’s pressing against you that much but you’re more relieved than anything that you don’t really care.
sae chuckles, weakly, the tension leaving his shoulders. “i know.” he can feel you pouting without even having to look at you.
“i should really leave you,” you whine, though your actions betray your words, holding him even tighter.
“then why do you put up with me?” it’s a funny thing, how he can be afraid to lose you yet he can tell that you’re not someone who gives up so easily.
that’s exactly why he has to prove that you didn’t choose the wrong person to be with.
“i guess i’m just stupid too.”
you’re not. sae’s going to make sure no one else thinks you’re stupid for staying with him. it’s enough having your best friend think that, but that’s fine, sae’ll prove him wrong soon enough. it sucks that he’s only good for soccer, but at the rate you’re going? you’ll teach him how to be a good boyfriend. he’s two years in and learning slowly but he’ll get there.
you’re the only one who can get him there.
“no,” sae says, all of a sudden, and you pull away, confused.
“no what?”
“what you asked earlier… it isn’t too hard. i’ll work on it.”
oh, must be right before he left, when you’d asked if it was hard for him to just assure you sometimes. to be honest, you didn’t think he’d even listened. but sae is sae and he’s stubborn and stupid and a little bit of an ass, but he still listens to everything you say.
you try not to break out into a smile—you don’t want to show him how whipped you really are. “i’ll hold you to your word, then.”
sae smiles, ruffling the top of your head before slowly pulling you in again. “so… don’t leave me, okay?”
it sinks in what he’s saying. you didn’t think you’d ever hear sae say those kinds of words. but it’s unfair, really, because how can you say no when he’s like this?
“you already know i won’t.”
and somehow, you’re right. sae knows you won’t. doesn’t mean he’ll get caught lacking though.
“good then.”
because he plans on keeping you forever.
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chaconnenha · 10 days
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⸝⸝ ❛ i' m in love with a fairytale . . .
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╰ ❪ ꕤ ❫ ENHYPEN ( HYUNG LINE ) as disney princes !
en- hyung line x fem!reader ʬʬʬ───includes. swoon-worthy princes, fluff, romance, minor angst, kissing, violence, abusive & toxic households, semi-nudity, word dumps/messy writing . . . ( MAKNAE LINE VER. found here ) BACK TO LIBRARY ?!
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LEE HEESEUNG as PRINCE ERIC ( THE LITTLE MERMAID ) !
when you pulled him to the shore from the wreckage of his sunken ship, and you felt the sand on the shore for the very first time, you knew you could never go back to how things were… and when you fell for him for the very first time, you knew you would never be able to love anyone else. but he had someone else now—a princess, who could speak, could laugh, could tell him just how much she loved him… you were just a mermaid who traded her voice for legs; a silly girl who used forks as a hairbrush, and couldn’t walk two steps before tumbling over the other. there was no way he would fall for you… or so you thought.
you had no idea his love for you ran deeper than the ocean that you saved him from. that the moment he found out you were missing and nowhere to be found, he felt his heart drop in his chest right down to his stomach. or that the first thing he did was send his guards out to every corner of the city in search of you, hoping that he didn’t just lost you forever. and that was why, when he saw you standing at the beach where he met you for the first time, he couldn’t hold back his feelings. not after reading the letter you left behind for him, saying that you were leaving him so that he could marry someone who wasn’t you. he wasted no time in chasing you down before you could even set foot in the sea, his arm grabbing yours and hauling you to his chest, as if you were the one sinking this time, and it was his job to pull you back to shore.
you couldn’t even gasp in surprise before his lips were on yours, swallowing your protests like he was drowning again, and you were his last pocket of air. “don’t ever leave me like that again,” he panted between desperate kisses, his arms pressing you even more firmly against his body. you stared at him in shock as salty tears ran down his beautiful face, reflecting the ones that fell down yours not too long ago. “please,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours. “i love you too much to let you go.”
PARK JEONGSEONG as PRINCE CHARMING ( CINDERELLA ) !
you were used to being treated like a trampled flower in the dirt. the moment your father passed away and left you in the care—or rather, the mercy—of your stepmother, you had learnt to tuck away your dreams in the back of your mind, where they would remain unrealised, yes, but at the very least, untouched by the hands of your wicked stepsisters, who would not hesitate to tear them into shreds like the did your mother’s precious gown.
but the prince was different. you could still remember his handsome face and his gentle smile, the way his calloused hands held your waist ever so gently while the two of you danced beneath the light of the crystal chandeliers and the burning eyes of a hundred spectators. would he be disappointed if he couldn’t find the girl who fit the glass slipper you left behind? you hoped not, for you had no doubt there would be princesses all around the world eager to fill the spot that you missed… and yet, they couldn’t. because they weren’t you. he made that clear when he broke through the door with the force of the men at his beck and call, eyes searching frantically until they landed on your figure—-dressed in rags and covered in ashes.
you scrambled to your feet, your face burning in shame as you bowed your head. you almost wished he didn’t find you here, if only to spare him the disappointment of realising that the girl he had been chasing was no princess, but a servant girl who didn’t even have a scrap of new clothing to her name. and yet, those calloused hands of his found their way to your chin ever so gently, lifting your eyes to meet his ones. your knees felt weak, and your face warm— like the sunlight that filtered through the attic window, and like the look in his eyes as he gazed upon you. “it’s you,” he said with a whisper, a wide smile blooming across his face. because there was no way it wasn't you; not when he had been dreaming of those eyes of yours since the night you met. “my princess…”
SIM JAEYUN as FLYNN RIDER ( TANGLED ) !
there was once a time where you wanted nothing more than to know what it felt like to feel the grass beneath your feet, and to lie in meadows of dandelions under the sun, like they always talked about in the books you piled up in your little room. to know what it was like to be free. and he was the one who gave you that. the one who showed you the world. but being with him was dangerous, for the both of you, and you would rather stay locked up in the tower forever than let him be hurt. now, the only thing you wanted, was for him to be safe. even if that meant giving up the freedom you would once trade anything for.
you stared at the painting on your ceilings—the painting of the lanterns that he took you to see, just as he promised. the lanterns that bore witness to your first kiss on a boat in the middle of the lake… right before your mother found you, and dragged you back to the tower, promising pain on the man you loved–yes, loved—if you didn’t do as she said. you sighed as you raised a hand over your eyes. and it was then that you heard a knocking from the inside of the walls. someone was here. and it wasn’t your mother. you moved faster than you ever did before you learnt how to braid your ropes of hair, and you slotted yourself between one of the bookshelves to hide, frypan in hand, at the ready.
this scene felt all too familiar. you found yourself remembering the charming grin as you stood with a frypan in hand, eyeing the man who broke into your home and changed everything. but now was not the time for such thoughts. as soon as you heard the intruder enter, your charged with your pan held over your head with violent intent—only to have it fall from your hand when a hand you knew all too well wrapped around your wrists, securing them together in its singular grip, before pushing you up against the nearby wall. jake watched your lips fall apart in a silent gasp, eyes lighting up in recognition at his face. his name left your lips in a quiet sigh, and his heart leapt at the sound, at the sight of your pretty face under the sensual lighting of the setting sun. he wasted no time in ravaging your mouth with hungry kisses, his hard body pressed against yours as he attempted to feel every part of you against him, so he could feel you like he wanted to since the day you were taken from him. “i missed you so fucking much,” he whispered. you scolded him, telling him he shouldn’t be here… but— “i don’t care. i’m here to take my girl back.”
PARK SUNGHOON as PRINCE ADAM ( BEAUTY AND THE BEAST ) !
when you first found yourself at the beast’s—no, sunghoon’s, castle—demanding that he let your father go, you would admit that you almost turned and ran for the hills at the sight of his beastly form. he was the image of the monsters that you read about in all those books you buried your nose in all day, the ones that you lost yourself to fantasy with. but the longer you remained in his care, the more you realised just how much lay beneath the surface of a supposed beast. the way he had so awkwardly tried to pull your chair out for your on the first night you had dinner together, the way he was so hesitant to grasp your hands when you danced, as if too scared he might shatter it; the way he so willingly threw himself before an arrow just to make sure it didn’t touch you…
you called his name with falling tears, watching as he lay limp on the ground before you. his small huffs of annoyance were never so missed as they were now, instead replaced by silence as you continued to shake his lying form, his blood staining your dress. you never even got to say thank you, to tell him you didn’t mean it when you said he was an insufferable and intolerable beast—and now, you would never have the chance again… or so you thought. as you rested your head against his unmoving chest, wallowing in the grief that washed over you like a tidal wave, you failed to notice as the beast you came to knew started to shift into a man, his bare chest healed of any wounds because of the love that you shed in your precious tears. it wasn’t until a human hand cradled your cheek and lifted your face did you notice what had happened, and god was he beautiful—just as he was on the inside.
his lips were raised into a soft smile, and you heart leapt at the sight of small dimples poking his cheeks, and a pair of fangs that looked like a miniature version of the ones he had when he was a beast. “why are you crying?” he asked, his lips pressing a sweet kiss onto your forehead. “did you really think you would get rid of me that easily?” he cupped your face into his warm, large hands, his eyes bearing into yours. “silly girl… i’m too in love with you to leave.”
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bwabys-scenarios · 3 months
Note
If it would be okay, could I request a breeding kink(not sure if that's in the extreme category or not) Sanji x Reader where reader wants him to finish inside her and it 'does things' to him? 👀
Vanilla Filling(NSFW)
Sanji x Chubby!Reader
!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!
A/N: S-soft Sanji that loves you so much….. that is all…
warning: breeding, creampie, whimpering, pussy eating, he’s a lil pathetic but that makes him hot
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It had been nearly a month since the last time Sanji had his darling in his bed. Having sex on a ship with a bunch of other people wasn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world to do, considering most of his comrades had heightened senses. Sanji didn’t really care too much about who knew when he was having sex, be he knew you would, so he waited.
The wait was agonizing for the both of you, but surprisingly it was you that suffered the most. It didn’t help that you were going into ovulation, and all you wanted was your boyfriend to help relieve the intense heat in your body.
He was in the kitchen, preparing dinner when you walked in, a towel on your head, drying your hair after swimming around with Nami. The second Sanji spotted you, he melted, opening his arms to pull you in close and bury his face in your neck.
Sanji didn’t yell in excitement when he saw you like he did with other girls, because he didn’t love them. You were his everything, his princess, so he held you right, showing his adoration for you by placing a kiss on the nape of your neck and gently rubbing your back. “Did you have a nice time in the sea, my princess?”
You gave him a nod, relaxing as he held you against him. “Yeah… missed you, though…”
He had trouble breathing when your lips brushed against his neck, leaving a trail of kisses to his jaw. “I m-missed you too, princess.”
Sanji moved his hands to your plump hips, giving them a soft squeeze before wandering to your ass. “Sanji, baby… it’s been too long…”
The sound of the rowdy residents of the ship faded as he looked down at his princess. Your chubby cheeks were warm, your body pressed against his. “I know, princess. I… fuck I need you so bad…”
A whine left your mouth as he picked you up, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you in place. “I can’t take it anymore… let’s go to your room.”
You didn’t protest, not one single bit when the row of you fell into bed, kissing and touching. He couldn’t keep his hands off of your plump curves, his touch feeling like heaven on your needy body. When he lowered his face to your crotch, you couldn’t help but whine.
Sanji was a lover that got off on your pleasure, so hearing you mewl as he tongue lapped at your cunt through your panties made his pants tight. He couldn’t get your panties off quick enough.
You gasped when he buried his face into your pussy, feeling his tongue go straight for your clit. Just by that you understood just how much he had been holding back. Usually your lovely boyfriend started with soft kitten licks to get you warmed up, but not this time. He dived in, his tongue circling your clot before taking the sensitive bud between his lips to suck on it.
When his fingers sunk into your cunt, you couldn’t help but shove his face further into your pussy, causing him to moan pathetically. His gently nibbled at your puffy pussy lips, looking up at you adoringly. Truly, he could go at this for ours most days, but today he was feeling particularly needy.
He almost always got you to cum before he fucked you, but this time was different. Sanji fumbled to pull his pants off, parley getting his boxers pushed out of the way before sinking into your pretty pussy. Just the feeling of your warm, tight walls clenching around him had his grips on your fat hips tightening.
“F-fuck, princess… can’t take it…”
He gazed down at you as your tits and tummy bounced with each thrust. “So pretty… mmph, all mine, my perfect little angel…”
His climax was coming way faster than usual, but so was yours. When he moved to pull out and replace his cock with his fingers, you stopped him, crying out. “N-no, want it inside!”
He paused, his eyes going wide. His pretty princess was sprawled underneath him, begging to have him cum inside of her… the thought of filling up her womb, getting the love of his life pregnant had him placing his hand over her chubby tummy.
“Anything you want, princess…”
He kept going, pounding into her as he imagined her belly swelling with his seed, her breasts getting heavy with milk. Why did the thought of her carrying his child get him going?
Sanji came faster than he ever had before, holding onto her hips as he spilled inside of her, painting her walls white. As she panted beneath him, coming down from her own high, he couldn’t help but run his hand over her belly, biting his lip.
“Princess… you’ll be such a good mother…”
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granolawriting · 6 months
Text
Within the confines of a ship ˚✧
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pairing: Jedi!reader x Jedi Anakin
Summary: Spending night after night having sexual tension with a certian Jedi on a mission surrounded by your peers in a ship comes to a head when one day he stops trying to be discrete about what he wants.
Content warning: 18+ NSFW, minor exhibitionism, dom!Anakin, tension, Anakins a tease, breif aftercare, you guys stop caring about making no noise like halfway through, p in v unprotected, he cums in you, I don't think I actually wrote anything that explicitly makes the reader female, Anakin is glaringly cocky
word count: 2.6k
masterlist
A/N: so sorry this took so long to put out!!! I just moved to a new state :)! I hope u enjoy the second installment of my kinktober list, I'll see you all again on the 10th ;). Make sure if you like my work to check out my requests/comissions or my ko-fi!!!
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The silent hum of a ship deeply comfortable in hyperspace and the muffled talk of fellow Jedi upon the ship fills your mind as you try to ensure that's all that enters it. Subconsciously you hone in on voices, unable to discern conversation but by mere tone and inflection alone could you spot him if he was there. 
… 
There he is. 
You felt the sound of his voice sink deep within your stomach, igniting your body ablaze. Even the mere sense of him in distance to you made you grow weak, feeling as a pool builds through slick underwear at how your mind allows it to wander. Anakin had never been explicitly sexual with you, never did his hands trail down the waistband of pants or under hooked lines of bras, never did his lips even touch yours or the flush of bodies against one another. You were completely left to your imagination, though not without the help of Anakin. 
You and him have always had a history, a tension of sorts. Never properly actualized with action but words were more than enough. The way his eyes devoured you when you walked past, soft words exchanged in private halls or even implicit praise after simulated battles between you and him. 
“Ooh, good girl. Seems like someones been practicing.” 
Small things. Though as he strung you along this road of implication and suggestion your mind was allowed to run wild with what else may lie within his own mind. The reactions to the things you’ve said in kind, and how if they were anything like how you responded-- with hands sinking to the ooze between your legs the moment you were home, you were more than certain that it couldn't last like this forever. What you would do more than anything to please him, hear how he moans, the way he’d praise you. The feeling of him inside of you, what did he even look like? 
It didn't help that you two were constantly surrounded by one another in hidden corners of a ship, it wasn't cramped but it was definitely rendering you on edge as every corner you turned had a much higher potential of holding anakin than it usually would. Though, with that, the tension only grew stronger. Seeing him fresh out of showers with only cloth wrapping his lower half, catching staring eyes from across dining room counters and most of all, the words exchanged in the few moments left alone with one another in the confines of the ship. 
“Where are you off too darling? 
“To my room, didn't think anyone else was awake. I was just going to head to bed.” 
You remember how close his face would inch towards yours, the soft clank of a heel that indicated one more step closer to yours. You remember the sly look on his face, a half cocked brow and egotistical smile, arms crossed and strands of hair littering his face. 
“I don't think anyone else here is awake either. Well, I'm glad I caught you before then.” 
The way he looked you up and down, subtle gnawing on his lip as he drank you in. the warm tug that drew your lips to his. 
“Why's that? Did you need something?” 
“Well I could tell you quite a few things I need from you.” 
You also remembered the hissing of a door behind you as it indicated its opening. The feeling of the flutter in your heart quickly dies as dread follows in the wake of something interrupting such a moment. To turn behind you you greet a jedi that you barely remember the name of. And with that does Anakin take off once more through the same door-- eyes locked on you and a smile that feels as though it was coated with lust as his mind was a secret to you but his body told a similar story. Every part of it. 
Lifting yourself off the bed you trail slow feet towards your door, an entrance to the room where anakin shared. Unsure of what you were meaning to do when you got to him, all you knew is that you needed to see him. Talk to him. Something. 
Walking out into the common area you watch his eyes on you once more, growing from notice to intrigue as you grow closer to him. Those around him stop conversation briefly, tuned in also to what means you had to be out there. 
“Hey Ani, do you think I could talk to you for a second?” 
“Oh yeah, what's up?” 
“Um, 
Pausing for a second you don't know what to say. Everyone's eyes lay on you as they dissect your motives, morbidly curious about what you’re to say to him. 
“Alone, please? You can just come into my room.” 
A look on Anakin's face that was initially worry quickly molded into something much more lustful, the cocky grin coated his face once more and a hood to his eyes that insinuated that his mind was someplace much different than the rest of the people in the room regarding what you were implying. You didn't even know what you were implying. All you wanted was to go out there and see him, watch the way he moved and allow yourself to sink deep within his eyes and embrace the enchantment you held for his every feature. The desire you had for every inch upon his body. 
“Say no more.” 
A smirk curved on the right side of his cheek as he lifted himself up from his seat. Watching as his fingers comb through long hair that pushed it back for just a moment before laying perfectly upon his face, sculpting his face did slight waves along its side make way for a weakening gaze to fall upon you that made you feel as though your knees were to give out. 
The short walk to your cabin felt like miles as every step that loomed behind you was an aura of uncertainty and tension that built up with every foot you moved closer behind that door. 
The sound of the doors open and subsequent closing made your heart well up in anticipation, fear almost. You didn't know what to do, what to say. You had nothing to talk to him about other than your insatiable lust for him, and that wasn't quite on the table to casually discuss. Though as you look for the words to speak he says them for you. 
“And what exactly did you need to talk to me about in silence, hm?” 
He taunts you, it's clear in dark tone and greedy eyes that he knows precisely what is so hard to get out. 
“Oh well I, I don't quite know how to say it.” 
“Oh come on, use your words.” 
“I'm trying it's just that I-” 
“Spit it out baby I don't have all day.” 
Banter back and forth as he capitalizes on your meekness comes to a head, and with the inability to put words into sentences at the face of him towering over you with a taunting glance you lean in for a kiss. 
Anakin, caught by surprise, has eyes wide open, but after a moment passes a smile can be felt to grow wide on his lips as he deepens the kiss. Arms snake around your waist as he yanks you closer, both bodies flush against one another as your back curves slightly at the tug of his arms on the small of your back. 
“Good girl, I wonder how long it’d take you.” 
He lets up for breath and whispers in your ear as he moves a hand to your head, stroking your hair as your senses are overtaken by the words pouring into your ear. He sounded greedy, cocky. He had been toying with you, seeing how long it took until you broke. He loved watching you writhe under him, hums escaped your lips at the mere vibration of his voice against your body, the touch of his lips against yours. 
You feel his knees bend slightly as his hands make swift moves to the back of your thighs, lifting you up does he return his lips to yours. Feeling him grunt inside your mouth as he walks you over to the bed, interlocking your legs around his as he tosses you on unmade sheets. Crawling on top of you does he deepen the kiss evermore, sticking his tongue into the back of your throat do you feel a growing bulge within his pants. Laid directly on top of you did you feel it grow mere inches above your heat, desperately you find yourself unconsciously grinding on it to feel it even more. He's big, even through loose pants does he leave no room for imagination as it presses up against you. Feeling it twitch through thin layers of cloth. 
“Fuck-- ngh. Wasting no time hm?”
His hands caged you in at either side, he let up from your kiss to focus on the feeling you provided him below his waist. You felt as his hips started to follow rhythm with your waist, inching lower down your body so his bulge laid directly atop your heat. 
Through desperate buckling of hips you speed up pace, feeling him right on top of you as the only thing separating him from you being a few pieces of cloth. Biting back your lip do you desperately try to hold back the moans that scratch at your throat at the feeling of him rubbing on you. 
A hand falls on your mouth the moment you let one slip. 
“Don't make a fucking sound. I know how much you love my cock baby, but we’ve got to stay quiet hm? Think you can do that for me?” 
You nod your head in agreement. He removes his hand and fixes his rhythm atop you once more. 
“Fuck it. I need to be inside of you.” 
Legs straddle your lower half as his body folds to take off your pants. Cool air hits the exposed wetness of underwear as you feel a finger drag along its center. 
“All of this for me baby?” 
He teases your clit with his index, moving it in slow circles as he trails up and down your folds. 
“You’re so fucking hot.” 
Taking his own pants off does he leave no underwear on himself, revealing his cock that stood mere inches from your entrance. 
Fuck he’s huge. 
Leaning on you once more does he flush exposed cock along the slick coating your underwear. Kissing you slowly as he moves his hips up and down your heat. 
“Mmhg, god, anakin please” 
“Please what? Come on, speak up baby.” 
“Please, please fuck me. I need to feel you I can't stand it anymore.” 
“I love hearing you beg for me.” 
He snakes a hand down to your underwear, pulling it to the side as he coats his cock with your juices. It takes everything in you not to whine out his name as he slowly teased you, feeling how hard his cock was against you moments before he finally put it in. 
As he waits at your entrance for a moment, you feel him slowly sink into you as muted groans escape bitten lip. 
“God you’re so tight.” 
His head bucks up as he inches deeper in you, exposing a neck with small beads of sweat and defined jaw as his face looks up at the ceiling. 
As his body grows flush against yours, you feel more full than you have in your whole life. No finger could ever suffice the sheer size of him, all the times you’d imagined him inside of you with even 3 of your own deep within you could never amount to how it felt now. The curve of his cock hitting the entrance to your womb, your entire body engulfed in flames at the feeling of him merely being warmed inside of you. 
With steady motion he began moving in and out of you, your hands grip the sheets of your mattress at the mere feeling of him pumping in and out of you, legs instinctively shutting together at the feeling. Though with stern hands does he push you back upon again; 
“Open your legs for me, baby. I wanna see you.” 
And you obliged, heavy calloused hands grip on your thighs as he gets steady motion inside of you. Labored breaths as his brows contort in pleasure upon finally feeling inside of you. 
“You don't know how long I've wanted this baby. To finally fuck you like you deserve, I could have never imagined how tight you would be imagining you as my fist every night.” 
your head turns into the sheets of your bed as he begins to pump into you harder-- your body overtaken by white hot pleasure that sank deep into your stomach as the only thing you could think of is how your body memorized his cock. The feeling of every vein and every inch, the way it curved into you and the constant push on the perfect spot that made you feel like you were going insane. 
“Huhh, Anakin please don't stop. Please, please” 
You begin to beg in a hushed voice as every word you spoke was laced with whines and moans. 
“Oh what? Are you going to cum baby?” 
You respond in a hummed moan that gives him all the information he needs. His hand trails to your clit as he begins to play with it as he thrusts into you. Picking up the pace of not only his hips but his fingers as they both make you go dumb with pleasure. 
“Come on, cum on my fucking cock. Get even tighter for me baby I know you can do it. I want to feel your legs fucking shake for me, feel you convulse on my cock.” 
You feel it well up inside of you as you boil over, and only a few more seconds after his demands were you plunged into a frenzy of movement under him. His arms grip your legs together as he pumps into you through your orgasm, never stopping for a moment as he rides it out using you even after you’ve finished. 
“God-- anakin I cant. I cant please,” 
“Come on, I know you can take it. Be a good girl will you?” 
You lay flat against the bed as he uses you, fucking into you as though you were just a toy. But as your orgasm finished his was soon to build up. His thrusts becoming irregular and desperate, sweat collected on the ends of his hair as it fell into his face. 
“Say my name.” 
“A..Anakin” 
“Say my fucking name.” 
“Anakin!”
You yelp his name as he slams into you, feeling him pour into you as he dumps every last drop of himself inside of you. You feel him twitch inside of you as his cum seeps out of open edges of your insides as he stays flush to you through his orgasm. Legs slightly twitch as he seems hard to stand, and slowly he pulls himself out of you to leave only a pool of white leaking out of you in its wake. 
“Let me get you cleaned up. Stay right there.” 
He commands you as he walks into your bathroom a few feet away, gathering a towel to wipe along your heat and anywhere that has substances that can't quite stay there. Though through labored breath he continues; 
“I think we’re going to have to do that more often, baby.”
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ageingfangirl2 · 4 months
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Just Like That! Sanji (OPLA)
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LIGHT SMUT! You and Sanji share a rare intimate moment alone while the rest of the crew explore an island, and you realise just how loyal sanji is to you after you have some doubts. Sanji x Reader (Female) LIGHT SMUT!
It was an insufferably hot day and you'd refused to go exploring on the island you'd docked at because you didn't want to trudge through a jungle, instead choosing to stay on the ship with Sanji while everyone else left. You'd put on the pastel pink bikini Nami had made you buy and were lounging on a deckchair sunning yourself on the main deck. You knew why Sanji chose to stay behind, you just weren't sure who was going to confront the other first.
Sanji was a lady's man, always flirting with any girl who crossed his path. You thought it was annoying until he turned on the charm, and unlike Nami and Robin you actually enjoyed it, and after a couple months of flirting he asked you on a date and you agreed. Four months you'd be official and you were happy. You had some insecurities and despite paying attention to you, Sanji's eyes had wandered on the last island and it made you feel like crap. Was he bored of you? You'd chosen to avoid him instead of sitting down and talking.
You get up from the chair and stretch, rearranging your bikini which had ridden up a little. Not hearing the door behind you open as your boyfriend walks onto the deck from the kitchen.
'A man could get used to such a beautiful sight,' Sanji whistles behind you.
You spin around and see him holding a tray with two glasses of lemonade on eyeing you up and down with his greedy eyes, 'you say that to all the girls,' you spit out and pout, looks like you were the one doing the confronting.
Sanji hums and sits down on the edge of your vacated chair, putting the tray down on a small table and rolling up his shirt sleeves, 'Nami mentioned it. I'm sorry beautiful, my attention should be only for you. Let me make it up to you,' he says sincerely while patting his knee.
Sanji was the best lover you'd ever had, he was gentle and rough, knowing how to tease but then compliment you, and right now you were putty in his hands because you'd missed his touch. You straddle his lap and put your arms on his shoulders, 'then make it up to me.'
'With pleasure my lady,' he coos, and you gasp as he moves aside one half of your bikini top exposing your breast, 'let Sanji make you feel good.'
He gropes your breast before leaning down to kiss your nipple which sends a jolt through your body. You didn't realise how sensitive your nipples were because most guys you'd been with ignored them, 'shit--' you moan, and you feel Sanji smirk around your nipple.
Next thing you know he's removed your whole bikini top with a simple tug of the string around your neck, and starts playing with both your breasts, and you can't help but feel your cheeks blush as you slowly start to grind on him.
You bite your lip, 'fuck, why are you...mmh...why are you doing this to me? Feels good.'
Sanji wastes no time continuing his exploration of your chest by kissing, licking and flicking to his heart's content. He wasn't being rough, after all this was his apology.
You continue to grind, feeling Sanji's bulge, 'when I first met you Sanji, I didn't know you were like this, I thought you were a player,' you mumble as you dig your fingers into his thighs.
Sanji laughs, 'and I thought you were shy when we first met, but look at you now,' he grins, hands moving to grip your own thighs keeping you in place.
You unzip his trousers and he helps you pull them down along with this underwear, freeing his dick that already leaked precum matching your own wetness in your bottoms. You pull your bikini bottoms down and position yourself over him, Sanji watching and letting you take control.
'We can take things slow beautiful, as long as you're happy I'm happy,' he says sincerely, making it hard for you to not take him all at once.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders and slowly sink onto him, pulling your two bodies closer until your head is on his shoulder.
'So beautiful,' Sanji moans, hands coming up behind you to cup your ass, 'why would I want anyone else, you're the only one for me.'
You smile against his shoulder as you position yourself comfortably, 'I love your Sanji, I'm sorry for doubting you.'
You gasp loudly as his fingers dig into your cheeks, 'and I love you, punishment comes later, right now I'm content like this.'
Despite the heat you shiver at his playful tone, knowing what he could do behind locked doors, and you loved it. But right now you were also content relaxing and cockwarming, stealing a very intimate moment with your lover before the rest of the crew came back.
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badgerbl00d · 7 months
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hey I've fallen down a rabbit hole of reading your fics and it's 3am here but they're so good!!! I'm in love ✨✨✨💕💕 i was wondering if I could request a story with Zoro but the reader's ex is there and she doesn't miss him but she runs into him for the first time and she's hurt after he disappeared on her, maybe he's with a bunch of his friends. Zoro comforts her, maybe even embarrasses the ex while they fight off some enemies and stuff. Sorry i know I'm rambling on, but ahhhh i would love to see this come to life! thanks again! :)
hands off
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☆ characters: roronoa zoro
☆ up next: captain's girl; shanks x reader
☆ summary: you have an unexpected run-in with your no good ex boyfriend but unfortunately for him, you have zoro with you
☆ a/n: lovedddd writing this! i love writing protective zo :3 thank u for this ask! requests are still open
☆ key: e/n = ex's name
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It was a busier night than you and the crew had seen in a while. You were all desperate for a day off of chores and the open ocean so Nami suggested a brief stop at the closest island. 
You’d broken off in groups to spend some time on land and you Zoro and Robin had made your way to a dive bar in town. 
It was a welcome stop– the ship only had sake on it. Franky and Brook had finished the gin during a card game and Sanji had finished off the bourbon in a recipe. 
The three of you found a seat and you took a moment to sink into the torn leather cushion, breathing in the smell of old cigarettes in ashtrays and beer. The neon lights washed you in a warm hue and Zoro couldn’t help but stare at how the blinking lights shifted on your face, changing the shadows of your eyelashes danced on your cheeks. 
He got up, realizing Robin had taken note of his staring and made his way to the bar ordering a drink for himself. 
You and Robin were talking, he could hear your giggling and tried to drown the warmth that erupted in his tummy by downing the drink.
You walked up behind him and hugged him from behind, “Zo-ro!”
He loved the way you said his name, stretching out the first syllable and emphasizing the second. Zou– ro!
“Hey, Y/n,” he said, biting back a smile.
“What’d you order?”
“Sake.”
“Shocking! Gimme a sip.”
He handed you the small bowl, his heart beating faster when your fingers touched.
He watched you sip it and wince as it went down.
“Still gross.”
It was too much to be around you, you were intoxicating and he knew if he spent too much time around you after having had a few drinks he’d most likely say something stupid and embarrass himself. 
He started getting up, awkwardly trying to get you off of his shoulders. 
You let go and took his seat. 
“Here,” he dug around in his pockets and handed you a few bills and several coins.
You shot him a puzzled look.
“Get yourself a drink, since you didn’t like mine.”
“With…” you paused and counted the money, “Three berries and sixty-four.. no, sixty-five cents?”
He shot you a look and snatched the money up, grumbling as he went back to the table. 
A man in the bar quickly took Zoro’s place once he’d walked away and started up a conversation with you, much to Zoro’s irritation. He went and sat with Robin, sipping his drink and playing a game of checkers with her. 
An hour or so had passed and you, sociable as ever, had talked to almost everyone in the bar. 
Robin playfully nudged Zoro in your direction, who was absorbed almost entirely in his sixth cup of sake of the night. 
You were sitting alone at the bar now, ordering yourself a drink. 
Zoro furrowed his brow and took another big sip of his drink, pretending not to understand what Robin was hinting at. 
“Hmph,” he muttered, still not wanting to admit to Robin that his crush had been found out. 
A sudden impulse to go to you and declare his feelings bubbled up in his chest and against his better judgment, he stood up trying to gather the courage to go up and sit with you. It’s not like it would have been weird–he was closer with you than the rest of the crew and he knew you better than anyone (at least that’s what he let himself believe). But tonight, for some reason, he had been feeling nervous around you. He told himself that maybe it was your new perfume, floral and saccharine, and dizzying every time he caught your intoxicating scent or the dress you were wearing that hugged your body in all his favorite places, not that he looked, of course, or maybe it was your hair which was framing your face, now glowing in the soft light of the bar and pink with the warmth of alcohol that was driving him absolutely mad at the thought and sight of you. 
“Better hurry,” she said, getting up to leave, “Looks like a few other people already want to take the open seat next to her.”
A group of younger boys in the corner pushed one of their group toward where you were sitting, sending flirty remarks your way. 
“I’ll see you two back on the ship tonight.” 
You ignored the boys behind you, rolling your eyes at their antics. 
“Mint gimlet, miss,” the bartender said, handing you a drink, winking, “The gentleman over there sent it.”
“Oh? Well, thanks,” you said, looking to see who had guessed your favorite drink. 
Your heartbeat picked up, thumping with a quick, erratic beat against your chest. You felt goosebumps cover your skin and your stomach churned. 
Him. 
It had been two, or was it three?, years. God knows you’d tried contacting him; dozens of letters, calls, messages, just wanting to know what happened. Had you done something? Was he in trouble? Did a year of your life mean nothing to him? All that time, all those kisses and conversations and messy beds and lazy mornings. All the petty arguments and fights and the tears you’d cried in front of him. You had told yourself that there was no way he’d have thrown it all away. But six months after you’d last seen him, leaving your bed in the early hours of the morning, kissing your forehead and promising you dinner that night, he’d responded to one of your letters. 
It was some shitty, half-assed excuse—something about new opportunities and not wanting to tie you down, being your own person. 
A lump in your throat began forming at just the thought of it. 
You looked away from him, blinking back tears, but it was too late. He was headed your way. 
Well, you thought, the least you could do was ignore him. 
He sat one seat away from you, smiling at you like a schoolboy in love. You wanted to break your glass over his head. 
“Hi, sweetheart,” he said, placing his hand over yours, “How are ya?”
He was halfway through a beer, a drink that you now associated with his memory. 
You clenched your jaw and looked straight ahead, ignoring him entirely. 
“At least taste the drink, I know they’re your favorite.”
Zoro, who had been closely watching this entire interaction noted how you tensed up the moment he sat down and placed a steady hand on the handle of his sword. He paused for a moment, closely observing the scene that was playing out before him. He watched you push the drink in front of you away and your soft smile fall into a frown. 
“Leave me alone.”
The man reached over and placed his hand on your thigh and gently squeezed, eliciting visible disgust from you. 
Pushing his hand off you repeated yourself, “Leave me a-lone.”
Zoro was already making his way toward you from the other side of the room, his blood starting to simmer at the sight of your unwanted visitor. 
He stopped at a table about twenty feet away from you, deciding he would wait a bit more before taking any action– he was, after all, somewhat intrigued. 
The man was laughing, but you had never looked so angry.
“I am sorry, sweetheart,” he heard him say, “Let me explain what happened, just hear me out.”
“I don’t care what happened, and I will not hear anything out so long as it’s you speaking,” you responded.
“Did ya miss me? At least answer me that.”
Your hands were balled up into shaky fists, “No.”
The man laughed again, grabbing your drink from in front of you and taking a sip, “Yes, you did. Look how worked up you are! Don’t know how to respond to the sight of me, huh? Am I as handsome as you remember?”
You suddenly felt a large hand on your shoulder and turned to look up and see Zoro, relief sweeping through your body. 
“Hey, Zo,” you said, smiling at him.
“Mind getting me a beer?”
“Not sake?” you asked. He laughed, a lot more than normal, but insisted it was the beer he wanted. 
Tension between you and your ex was already at an all-time high, and your apparent closeness with Zoro wasn’t helping.
The bartender placed the beer in front of you and you pushed it over to Zoro who grabbed it and sat in the empty seat between you and your ex. 
“You know him?” Zoro asked, taking a generous sip of beer. 
You didn’t respond for a second, but eventually nodded, “Yeah.”
“Want me to move?” 
You could see E/n glaring at Zoro. 
You bit the inside of your cheek and looked up at Zoro who had an unreadable sort of expression on his face, something between irritation and apathy. He looked straight ahead and didn’t look at either you or the man to his right. 
Several moments passed without an answer and he turned to look at you, “Didn’t think so.”
“We were having a conversation,” your ex nudged Zoro’s arm. 
You knew the look on Zoro’s face, it was that sort of glazy-eyed focus he fell into before fighting. 
“E/n, we’re done talking.” 
“Are you sure this guy isn’t bothering you, Y/n? I felt like we were close to… reconnecting.”
Ugh, go away.
“Well, we weren’t,” you said.
Zoro stayed silent, sipping his beer, but you could tell he was very aware of everything going on around him. 
“Alright,” he said, getting up. He grabbed his coat and walked over to you, leaning over your shoulder, his chest to your back, and pressed a kiss to your cheek. You watched Zoro’s fist clench out of the side of your eye.
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, “Get off.”
As much as you hated the man, you knew Zoro was very capable of escalating things very quickly and you wanted to avoid causing a scene. 
You felt a small rush of wind on the back of your neck and the cool edge of a blade settle there. 
Uh-oh.
So much for staying calm. 
“Step away from her,” Zoro snarled, “Now.” His sword was extended behind your head and the point was resting on E/n’s chest. 
He put his hands up and smirked at Zoro, “Let’s not get too confident here, buddy.”
He pushed his jacket to the side and rested his hand on the gun that sat on his hip. He drew it slowly and dragged his finger to rest on the trigger.
You remembered that stupid gun and the fight that had ensued when you’d accidentally touched it.
Zoro laughed, loud and bold.
“I’ll have your hands cut off and skinned before you can pull the trigger. Make this a lot easier for yourself and leave.” 
Zoro didn’t look anywhere other than his face. His arm was steady and the sword didn’t waver even an inch. Confident and unwavering, he resembled a tiger before it kills. 
Your ex placed the gun back in its holster and turned to shoot you a pathetic smile, “Are you sure you want me to leave? You won’t see me again.”
You won’t see me again.
For a moment, all that hurt resurfaced. The striking realization that this was it. Your relationship was done and would never be what it had been again. This moment, right now, was truly it. You prepared yourself to say something, anything. But there was a growing lump in your throat so you stopped yourself from answering. You’d never forgive yourself if your voice broke now. 
Zoro moved in front of you, blocking you from his view, “You’re conversation with her is done. You can talk to me and lose your life in the process or you can leave.”
“Bitch,” he muttered under his breath, still looking at you and turning to leave. 
Before he’d even finished saying the word you watched Zoro’s sword cut through the air quicker than you could process, leaving him standing over your ex-boyfriend who was now clutching his bleeding chest on the floor. 
You shot up, suddenly nauseated by the exchange and the unnerving satisfaction you felt. 
Blood was soaking through his shirt and puddling in his palm, his breathing heavy and ragged. 
You grabbed Zoro’s arm and he turned to look at you. His complexion completely changed the moment he looked down at you, concern pouring from all of his features. 
Are you okay? he asked, his eyes speaking for him. 
“Let’s go, Zo,” you said, tugging on his arm, “There’re marines in town.”
He nodded, lowering his sword but he didn’t sheath it. 
“Just give me one more second.”
Zoro crouched down and nudged him with the handle of his sword like a cat playing with its prey. 
“I know you’re alive, so listen ‘cause I’m not gonna repeat myself,” he drew his sword and brought it up next to his ear. You watched silently as he visibly flinched. Zoro brought the blade down to rest on his shoulder, and slid it toward himself, wiping the blood off of the sword and onto his shirt. 
“If I ever see you again. Any time, any place- I guarantee that I will be the last thing you see on Earth. Understood?”
Zoro didn’t move at all, not a muscle, not an inch. He stayed watching the man like a hawk, clutching his bleeding chest until he gave a slight nod. Had you blinked you would’ve missed it. 
Zoro stood up, dusting off his knees and sheathing his sword. 
He turned toward the door and grabbed your hand on his way out taking you with him. 
The urge to turn around and look bubbled up inside you—to see him as devastated as you had been, to see him experience the pain you had felt. 
And as though he had read your mind Zoro gave your hand a squeeze.
Keep walking, he told you. 
You steeled yourself and walked out hand in hand with Zoro, whose hand was warm with speckled blood. 
He led you around the side of the bar, stopping only when you were tucked away in the alley. 
It was silent, neither of you saying anything. 
You looked up at him, making eye contact finally. He seemed somewhat embarrassed, his cheeks were fairly pink. 
You figured maybe he was regretting his rash actions but he was only really freaking out about having held your hand for so long. 
“Zoro…” 
“It’s nothing, really. He was a dick. Ex-boyfriend?” he said, trying badly to hide his jealousy.
It was funny– how he could go from quasi-murderer to shy schoolboy in minutes.
“Something like that,” you replied, looking away from his face, messing around with the hem of your shirt. Your eyes were starting to water again. 
“Hey, hey,” he said, leaning down to take your face between his thumb and forefinger, “What did he do? I’ll go back and kill him.”
You laughed, sniffling in between, “He just… He left me with no explanation and showed up out of nowhere today. It was so long ago I shouldn’t care. I don’t! But seeing him all of a sudden was just-”
Zoro wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest where you let several more tears flow, staining his shirt.
He petted your head, holding you close to him with his free arm unsure of what to say. 
“‘m sorry, Y/n,” he muttered, shuffling his feet, “I shouldn’t’ve asked.”
“It’s okay!” you insisted, wiping your eyes with the backs of your hand. 
Zoro, who’d only known you for a few months, had defended you and your honor without a second thought. And though he’d probably been a little excessive your heart swelled at the thought of how he’d stood up for you. 
““Sorry about your shirt,” you muttered, patting the stains on his chest where you’d soaked his shirt with tears, 
He looked down and smiled, “It’s ok. It’s an old shirt anyway.”
You laughed, “Yeah and it’s not super clean either.”
His cheeks grew pink and he lightly punched your arm.
You suddenly grabbed his hands in yours, surprising him.
You squeezed his hands extra tight and looked up at him, “Thank you, Zoro. Seriously. I don’t know why I didn’t knock him out myself and I never shut down like that but I– Thank you.”
Zoro nodded, giving you a small squeeze back. 
“I would do anything for you,” he admitted. More to himself than you. 
Warmth crept up your neck and into your face. 
“I mean– ‘Cause you’re my crewmate! I’d do anything for any of you guys, obviously. Maybe not Sanji but, well, yes him too just don’t tell him I said that.. But I meant, as in, like,” he rambled suddenly realizing what he’d said. 
His hands still in yours you pulled him down, crashing your lips into his. The sudden addition of his full body weight on top of yours sent you both falling backward, stumbling until your back hit the brick wall behind you. 
“Oh, shit– sorry! Sorry,” he said, pulling away from you.
“No, don’t be! I shouldn’t have….”
“Kissed me?”
“Pulled you so hard,” you responded, your hands still holding the other’s, “Thank you. I hope that shows I really mean it.”
His eyes were looking anywhere but yours and his cheeks were a furious shade of pink. 
His hands were still in yours and he gently shook yours off.
“Zoro?”
He stayed silent, embarrassed and unbelievably happy, and wrapped his arms around you again. You were pulled into his chest and he stayed quiet, hugging you tight. 
Ah, you understood, he didn’t want you seeing him so vulnerable. 
“You know,” you said, your voice muffled by his chest, “I can’t kiss you again if you hold me down here.”
You felt him tense up and his arms stiffen around you. 
“Fine with me,” he grumbled.
“You’re blushing, huh?”
“.........No.”
“Then let me out.”
“Will I get a kiss?”
“Thought you didn’t want one.”
He pushed you off his chest and started marching back in the general direction of the Thousand Sunny, grabbing his bandana and wrapping it around the lower half of his face, leaving you behind.
You laughed and ran behind him trying to grab the bandana away from his face which he was holding out of your reach. 
You could see the ship in the distance and Zoro had started laughing too, getting more and more comfortable with the pink hue of his face. 
Sanji and Nami were a little further down the way yelling at Luffy who’d ran off with a bag of groceries. 
You paused for a moment, looking at all these people who loved you and, all of the sudden, the past wasn’t all that important. 
Zoro turned, noticing your absence. Nami had spotted the two of you and was waving. 
“Coming?”
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hotluncheddie · 6 months
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high masking autistic steve harrington follow on from this post
ao3
wc: 2.6k | rated: T | cw: description of a meltdown with semi aggressive stimms | tags: autistic steve harrington (and eddie and robin but this is about stevie), hurt/comfort, stobin soulmates, steddie, steve Harrington has shitty parents
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he failed. he graduated. but he failed. those unsaid words between him and his parents. some get said. the bad ones, about him, they get said. over again like he’s 5 and being told is behaviour isn’t acceptable. that how he is isn’t right. ‘shape up or ship out’, basically. steve knows he can’t go anywhere new, not right now. only freshly recovered, physically at least. mentally; he’s still unacceptable. 
when steve works at scoops. it’s so fucking bright in there. so fucking bright, all day and he can’t focus and talking to people gets so much harder. it’s not like school where he can zone out in class and turn it on during lunch, in between, keep up his face with the people around him and sink back into his head during chemistry. no. now it’s all the time, customer after customer. that he has to talk to, put on a smile for, read so he gives them what they want and they leave happy. it’s exhausting. girls don’t like him anymore, they don’t react to him the same way. he doesn’t think he likes them much either though because they’re so much more annoying when it’s so fucking bright. 
but robin (robin who cycles to work with sunglasses on and doesn’t take them off till she has too) she turns the lights down during open and close. so those couple hours, it’s not so bad. not so stressful. a little bit less loud. 
after the mall burns down steve starts letting her in. tries too. she makes it obvious enough to him that she wants him there. she asks him to stay and calls him at night and he just wants to be enough for her. eventually he’d swallowed his pride and bolstered his courage and called her after a string of nightmares. asking her to stay the night. but then she was there, and it was like everything was thrown off. she was grating on his already freyed nerves but he didn’t know what to say. how to fix it without upsetting her. 
but that night, a mirror of the mall bathroom played out in steves en-suite. steve had freaked. hidden. but she didn’t leave. and he tried to explain. 
he needs her but he doesn’t know how to have her as a true friend. ‘i dunno how to talk to a girl if i don’t wanna date them. i uh, maybe, don’t really know how to talk to someone as myself. as a friend. sorry.’ 
‘well i don’t know how to talk to jocks so. same boat.’ and she has this glint in her eye. like she knows. and it’s okay. 
because robin, she made it simple. she makes it easy. she says just ask and she’ll be honest and give him a yes or no. she’ll say if she can’t be touched right now, or if the movie he chose is pissing her the fuck off. and she wants the same from him. if the music is too loud, if she needs to let him not speak for a while. wants him honest and present and real. real friends. someone close. finally. 
it’s rocky at first. she’s honest and he’s not used to it. it feel like criticism more often than not. makes him see red and lash out, like he was never able to with his parents. but he apologises and she stays. and he’s learning; that’s it’s okay, he’s not perfect and that means she’s knowing the real him. and she’s still his best friend even if he has to tell her to stop picking her nail polish off around him because it makes him want to die. and she laughs at him the first time she sees him in real recovery mode; hair not styled and he has on the only sweatshirt that ever feels good when he’s like this. 
they lay on the floor in darkness and silence. it’s perfect. they share a tin of soup and a grilled cheese. it’s perfect. 
being around robin as much as he is, its so new, having someone see so many parts of you. sometimes she laughs at him asking steve ‘why’d your voice change?’ but steve didn’t even know it had. he was, he was just talking to someone else quick, being nice like you’re supposed to, attentive to make them feel good. he didn’t know his voice changed that much. 
‘girls would like you more if you talked normal to them. how you do to me.’ 
steve swallowed thickly. he just. he just doesn’t know that thats true. nancy left, he talked to her about lots of things, too many things. she like him better at the start. before some of his black tar innards spilled out. before he freaked. before he was able to paste himself back together and she saw him for what he really is. 
he thinks of his parents. how they don’t know him and still don’t like him. anxiety prickles at his fingertips at the thought of those times they do come home. 
because with them there the routine he’s carved for himself, those quiet moments of darkness that he so craves. they’re gone. now it’s tv static and plates clanging and having to show his face at dinner again. but he’s not ten anymore. now he’s an adult whose still drowning in the tension of the room, never able to say what’s really going on, never allowed to ask how they really feel, never taught how to figure his feeling out. no listening ear for steve as a child, and the ice only grew thicker with time. 
it’s his skin itching at his mother stirring her tea across the house, spoon agains porcelain. it’s the hair on the back of his neck standing up at the sound of ice clinking in his fathers scotch glass. it’s triggered memories playing over and over again. it’s being plagued, by ghosts who haunt him, who left but come back every so often, like poltergeists. polietgists with the deed to the house, and ownership over steve, through blood and fear alone. 
‘when they get back you come to mine steve yeah? you come home.’
because now theres not just robin. there’s eddie. 
he sees everything. and more. even when steve’s trying to hide. eddie sees. 
he noticed steve squinting at the hospital and asked the nurse to turn the lights down. he saw how he started zoning out at a diner with the kids, their arguing reaching a pitch, asked steve to keep him company for a smoke break. once they were outside eddie said he just needed a moment, ‘those kids can be animals’. said it and looked a him like he didn’t need an answer, let steve just breathe a focus on the sound of the wind. 
it’s like there’s a million tiny moments, a million tiny cracks in him forming the more he’s around eddie. like his soft underbelly is mewling any time he’s around, wanting attention, wanting to let eddie see. let eddie touch. 
eddie used to look at him sometimes, across the lunch hall. stare at him with an expression steve couldn’t really make sense of. he used to think it was judgment, annoyance. now he wonders if that face was confusion or interest. maybe eddie’s always been trying to figure steve out. 
once it starts. them. eddie’s everywhere. more somehow, maybe, than robin because, you know, they go there. but it’s different, from those time, with those girls. instead now he’s there and his brains off and on in a, like, magical way. a new way that makes him feel whole and, and beautiful. 
this thing they have. it’s fragile. it’s not perfect. he messes up, takes him a moment to grasp how eddie can be so so himself, always, no matter what. especially when it causes him problems. ‘why not just try and fit in?’ but the stone faced reply told steve that was the wrong thing to say, he didn’t get it but he needed to respect it. respect eddie and his choices. ‘i’m not like you steve, even if my brain shit was all gone i’d still be poor, i’d still be othered. still be a gay weirdo little freak.’ 
and steve is trying to get it. he’s learning to recognise that it’s sadness and confusion in eddie’s eyes when he visits him at work, knowing steve is having a bad day and watching him pretend. watching that mask form thick and fast, hiding the real him, protecting but also keeping everyone far far away. steve thinks maybe they’re living parallels. finding different ways to survive. neither better, neither worse. both far from perfect. 
then that pinched sadness in eddie’s eyes. watching steve pretend. cover up. that damn breaks eventually. eddie sees all of him and more. those bits he always kept locked inside. between he and himself. it all comes spilling out. 
they were supposed to be going out soon. but eddie wasn’t feeling it anymore ‘let’s just stay here, be cozy a little longer. what do you say, sweetheart?’ it does sound nice. steves so tired. but they decided. they had a plan. 
‘we said we would. and i have to buy that thing eddie. we had a plan. and i have to go to work later, so we have to do it before. like we said and then i have to work eddie.’ and before he knows it there’s tears prickling his eyes and the ceiling fan is so loud and the desk lamp is too bright and he smacks a fist to the top of his head and it hurts a little but he’s so frustrated and so overwhelmed and so confused and embarrassed, suddenly. and he can’t breath. why can’t he breath? they had a plan. 
they were supposed to go see hopper and pick something up and he has to talk to him and ask about the game because he needs hopper to like him because it’s better when el can come when all the kids hangout. it’s important that she’s happy so hopper needs to trust steve so steve was going to talk to him today and pick something up. it was the plan. hopper makes him nervous but that was the plan. and then he had to go to work. but now he can’t breathe and he feels like he needs something to hurt. 
‘but he already trusts you with el stevie. hop trusts you with anything.’ 
‘i can’t know that. not for sure. when i talk to him it needs to be perfect.’ steve paces. a pinch at his arm. a tug at his hair. pivot. pace. repeat. 
‘i heard what he said to you steve, on your birthday, he was calling you son all day. you don’t need to prove anything to him.’ 
‘i do eddie! you don’t understand. people, they lie. adults lie. they don’t say things the way they mean. i can’t fuck up talking to him. not like i always fuck up talking to my parents. i need to do it better. do it differently. because everyone always leaves. and i just don’t want to be alone again.’ and the tears really start to fall and steve can barely breath and he’s so embarrassed. shaking hands try and cover his face but the tears slip through. 
and all he can think about is the plan. going to work. his vest hanging by the door. the way the plastic tapes feel in his hands. the smell of the bleach they mop the back room with. the day stretches before him. so many things in the way. so much anxiety still to come. if he can’t start, it can’t end. he gnaws at his lip. thumps a hand to his chest, trying to breath right, trying to ground. 
‘i have to go to work’ he mutters. like a prayer. speak it in to happening. taking him away from the now. thump thump thump at his chest. ear ringing. 
eddie’s holding his arms out, giving steve the option. he speaks so calmly, so earnest. ‘you can’t go to work steve. not like this baby.’
steve rounds on him. angry. when did everything get so messed up? if he was just left alone. he should’ve stayed on his own. ‘i cant just call in sick eddie! i’m not sick and and i hate the way they’ll sound when i say it over the phone and knowing what they’ll be thinking about me. they’ll know i hate the job and think i’m lazy and realise how stupid and useless i am and fire me. i can’t afford to get fired eddie. i’d rather just go in.’ he know it comes out garbled, his cheeks on fire. 
‘i’m not letting you go in steve. i’ll sort it. i’ll go pick up robin before and she’ll cover for you, she’ll explain. and she would never. ever think that of you.’ eddie’s voice dropped octave. he speaks clearly and plainly and finally there’s a new plan to follow. a new rule for the day. 
and all steve can do is curl up in a ball and sob. curl up in a ball against eddie chest, in his arms, squeezing his t-shirt between his fingers. clenching his muscles tight, his teeth grinding together. grunting out some of the decade old scream, still stuck there but more visible to him now. 
until finally finally, he relaxes. spent and exhausted. too afraid to open his eyes and face the lamplight, face what could be in eddie’s expression. he drifts..
eventually he gets up, blows his nose and splashed water on his face, turns off all the lights and get back under the warm blanket. fills his lungs. sighs. whispers, ‘m’sorry’ 
‘don’t say that. there’s nothing to apologise for’ eddie’s so close, so warm. 
‘no one’s supposed to ever, see that.. it’s okay if you want to leave’ 
‘steve. why the fuck would i leave you right now?’ 
‘who’d wanna date someone who acts like that? it’s. it’s not good eddie. but, but it’s okay. i’m used to being alo-.’ 
‘please stop stevie. your breaking my heart here. i want to stay, i want to be here with you. i really really like you steve.’ and steve’s cheeks feel wet again. he feels flayed open and young, like a little kid who fell off the swings and everything is different suddenly. 
later later when eddie picks robin up from work she stalks in to where steve’s wrapped up on the couch. curls up into his side and exhales. she bites into his bicep. huffing a sad, annoyed little ‘dingus’ before grabbing his hand and fiddling with his fingers. 
steve feels his eyes prickle again. looking up at the ceiling he croaks out a small ‘sorry.’ for the day. for everything. for anything he can be. and everything he can’t. 
robin kneels on the sofa right next to him. growling a little and placing one of her hands at his sternum and the other at the same height on his back. like she’s forcing herself inside him, holding him together. her hands start to rub up and down quickly, frenzied and grounding for both of them. steve let’s his head hang. eyes closing at the sensation. he grunts. robin grunts back. 
eddie joins. sitting at his other side. slipping a hand in steve’s hair, soothing his scalp with long scratching fingers. and steve humms, sighs, keens. eyes closed he drifts but not away from his body, instead into it. with gratitude, and warmth. at the centre of the two best things that ever happened to him. willing to try again. be just, better. never perfect. 
.𖥔 ݁ ˖
pt 3 snippet
a little happier for u @pearynice <3
ty @spectrum-spectre @vampyreddiemunson @fangirlycupcake @grandwretch for ur tags and additions, it was very inspiring
and tags for lovely @irethsune @willim-billiam-byerson @2jug2head
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prying-pandora666 · 11 months
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Azula And The Tides: The Most Misread Scene in ATLA
Stop me if you’ve heard this one before:
“The tides scene shows how irrational and spoiled Azula is! She got lucky! She endangered her whole crew for her pride!”
Or any similar variation.
The only problem is it’s not even remotely close to true. Let’s talk about that.
Here is the scene in question for reference:
youtube
Seems pretty straightforward, right? I mean, the Captain warned Azula about the tides and she put her ego before reason and made the crew take a huge risk. Horrible leadership and narcissism on her part, right?
Except for one little detail.
Azula was right.
Remember in “The Storm” when Zuko demands his ship chase after the Avatar and his crew warns him that it’s a fool’s errand because they’ll surely perish in the storm? Zuko stubbornly insists his goals are more important than anyone else’s lives, including his Uncle, and demands they drive recklessly into the storm. Sure enough, the crew nearly perishes in the storm, just as predicted, and Zuko is humbled enough to even rescue his Lieutenant that he disrespected earlier in the episode.
I bring this up so we understand how ATLA sets up and then demonstrates its narrative cause and effect. It’s rather straightforward as, after all, this is being written to be inteligible to children.
So what happens with Azula’s ship when she demands they dock right away despite her Captain’s warnings?
The ship docks without incident or injury.
In fact, they dock stealthily enough that neither Zuko nor Iroh see Azula coming and she’s able to surprise them. How would this be possible if the Captain had been correct in his assessment and Azula had just been acting out of ego?
I’ve seen some people argue that Azula just got lucky, like a drunk person driving home in a car. Not that I expect the average person to have extensive knowledge about docking a ship, but it demonstrates a severe gap in knowledge of the subject matter. When it comes to the tides you cannot half-ass it. Either the tides are in or they’re not. Either they’re high enough or they’re not.
And if they’re not, what happens? The rocks you can’t see beneath the waves will shred your ship apart and you will get stuck or outright sink. Best case scenario, if by an act of divine intervention you avoided all the rocks, you’re still screwed because your ship is going to get beached and tip over. Especially with a ship of that size!
You cannot squeak by here. Even with all of our tech and modern day ships, if you don’t respect the tides, you’re going to have a bad time. There is no avoiding this.
It boggles my mind why people assume Azula is the one in the wrong here and not the Captain who is later shown to be so incompetent that he spoils the mission. He was talking down to her and she rightfully put in his place. Cold and ruthless as her method may have been, she was making it clear that she is not to be talked down to or to have her authority questioned. An important skill for a young leader. Look at the comparison with Zuko who couldn’t wrangle his men. They were about to mutiny and would’ve if Iroh hadn’t intervened! Azula has no Iroh to fall back on. She has to manage on her own. And she does! In this same episode we are shown that Azula is a perfectionist who can’t tolerate a single hair out of place. But somehow we are supposed to believe she is also reckless and incompetent? I don’t think so.
We also know that Azula canonically attended the Royal Fire Academy for girls. This wasn’t some preppy finishing school, it was an intense military academy with survival training so deadly that Rangi described having to eat worse than rats to make it out alive. We know Azula excelled in school. Why wouldn’t she know something as basic as how to read the tides? That’s seafaring 101.
Combine that with the fact that all their best naval officers probably perished at the North Pole and it’s easy to glean that this Captain isn’t exactly their A-Team.
So what IS the point of this scene if not to show Azula being irrational, egotistical, or incompetent?
Remember our comparisons to Zuko? The point of this scene is to show how much better and scarier of a leader Azula is. It’s a simple way to convey to the audience that unlike Zuko, Azula *can* and *does* command like a true military leader. She is therefor a more frightening and dangerous opponent for our heroes to face than the already dangerous Prince they’ve been battling since the previous season.
I don’t think this misinterpretation would’ve ever spread so far if some fans weren’t dead set on trying to tear down Azula for the simple crime of being better at things than fan-favorite Zuko.
And I say this as someone who adores Zuko.
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cruel woman
roronoa zoro x reader, fluff
summary: you have the hots for zoro, but does he feel the same?
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The upper deck of the Sunny was shiny and clean; clipboard in hand as you descended the stairs to the kitchen. An itemized list of supplies written in neat handwriting on a piece of paper – Nami had asked if you could go around the ship and take inventory of what was needed and any special requests for the next island stop in a couple of days. The kitchen smelled like lemons, looked clean and a smiling Sanji greeted you with a simper of smile. He asked if you wanted some coffee and you said please, setting the clipboard down to go over it on the counter. He poured fresh coffee into a blue mug with the correct amount of creamer; he knew everyone’s coffee order and he was pleased when he brought the cup over, and you gave him pinch on his cheek.
The one on his face, not his ass – you didn’t need him going into cardiac arrest.
“Do you need anything for the kitchen or perhaps a special request?”
“Some time with you would be sufficient.”
“Very funny.” He had to try but then he got serious and read out a few things he needed for the kitchen. It took about ten minutes for the cook to go over everything but in the end, he was satisfied. Leaving the kitchen with your coffee, you stopped by Chopper’s office and visited the doctor for a bit. Adding more items to the list. Then it off to Ussop’s factory then Franky’s workshop. Finally, you reached the fella’s dorm and knocked, hoping to find Luffy but when you walked in – you got Zoro.
Shirtless in black sweats, damp hair, and a towel around his neck; it was obvious he had just got back from the bath, but you pretended not to care about his near perfect physique. Biceps, abs, triceps…all the ceps of his body…
“Like what you see, huh?”
He teased but you shrugged, holding up the clipboard. “Not really. Too broad. I like the leaner athletic type – like Sanji. So, do you need to put anything on the supply list?”
Zoro frowned. “Uh, no – I don’t think so.”
Staring at him, dull in the eyes, you took a long sip of coffee and inhaled contently. “Well, if you change your mind, still have a few days before we dock. See ya later.”
The man looked dumbstruck, but you left him to ease his ego; leaving quickly back up to the kitchen. Your entire face felt on fire and all you wanted to do was go to your bed and relieve yourself of a sick desire. Zoro had been flaunting himself a lot lately but maybe he wasn’t and your sudden interest in him was due to the lack of companionship. There was the option to share a bed with the cook, but he was too friendly with all the ladies, and you were a jealous fool most times. That endeavor would end up with a knife in some poor girl’s heart Sanji had made eyes at – it was best to leave that all alone. Even if you wanted to…you couldn’t look past Zoro.
Something about that broad shoulder idiot.
“Come for more coffee?”
“I’m all done, thank you.”
Sanji beckoned you over to the sink and you watched as he rinsed out the mug, handing it over for you to dry. He stood quietly for a moment until he asked if you had everything for the list and then he asked if Zoro needed anything. “He never needs anything or anyone.”
The comment slipped out of your mouth, and you winced. Sanji chuckled. “We really need to get you on land. If you’re starting to lust after Zoro, God, help us all.”
Nudging him in the ribs, you scolded him for making fun of your woes. “It’s getting serious, I walked in on him shirtless…”
“Oh, god, please stop.”
You laughed and handed over the clean mug. Sanji plucked it from your hands and returned it back to the cabinet it belonged in, turning to lean against the counter. He lit a cigarette and asked if you were really down that bad. His sincerity threw you into a laughing fit and he joined, until you reached over and touched his shoulder to hold you up. He laughed harder and tears were forming in your eyes just as the kitchen door swung open. Zoro walked in, with a shirt on, and a look of confusion when the two of you stared at him before bursting into a louder laugh.
“Idiots.”
He left the kitchen in a huff and eventually the laugher died down. Sanji wiped tears from his eyes and patted the top of your head. “You guys will figure it out, if not, my bed is always open to.”
“See that’s the problem, Mr. Prince,” you touched his tie and straightened it up before pushing him away. “I’m a jealous son of a bitch. I would have to pluck your eyes out from stopping you from staring at another woman.”
The cook smirked. “Point taken.”
….
The rest of the evening was uneventful; Sanji served dinner, everyone drank and went to bed with warm bellies. Nami slept right away but Robin was still up reading when you left the room for fresh air; a warm jacket because the sea was usually freezing during the night. Up on the deck, the ship was quiet sans for the sounds of waves gently lulling the vessel forward. Yawning, you walked over to the railing and leaned forward to stare down at the ocean. Eyes glued to the waves you didn’t notice someone moving to your side and when you finally stood straight – you jumped at the sight of Zoro. He grinned at your yelp and asked what you were doing out so late.
“I’m waiting for Sanji to finish up cleaning the kitchen so we can cuddle in his bunk.”
You were so wrong for that but the look of discontent on the swordman’s face brought on a gloating smile. He rolled his eyes and mentioned how bony Sanji was. “Have fun trying to keep warm.”
Retorting with a quip that noted all the ways to warm up one’s body, Zoro gripped the edge of the ship’s railing and glared out into the ocean. Cruel woman, that’s what he called you and you agreed. Finally realizing you were teasing him the entire time, Zoro loosened up and asked if you wanted to come back to his bunk. “I can keep you warm.”
Adjusting to the moonlight, you gave Zoro a once over and asked him why he wanted you in his bunk. The question perplexed the man, and you watched as the gears turned in his eyes, he seemed lost in thought for what felt ages but then he finally confessed that he just wanted you to. “Don’t have more of a reason than that…unless you really do want to sleep in the cook’s bed. Can’t stop you. But I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me lately, I’m not blind.”
“How have I been looking at you.” You challenge the man and his eyes narrowed, grabbing you light by the elbow. He grinned, body lingering close to yours. “Like you’re in heat.”
Pulling from him, you practically snarled at him. “You’re a real son of bitch, you know that?”
He let out a low chuckle, apologizing as he pulled you back. Words were never his forte, but he managed to tell you to stay, that he had always been driven by his dream, the crew, Luffy, but you had disrupted his life. “I’m not that damn Prince, I never cared about this kinda of thing.”  He held your hand carefully, as if you’d burn him. “I probably can’t give you everything you deserve…”
“What do you know about what I deserve?”
Zoro grew serious. “I’ll always have your back; I can guarantee that.”
Pretending to contemplate what he was saying, your finger tapped the edge of your chin and Zoro sighed. “Cruel woman.”
Laughing, you slipped both arms around his neck and he smiled, hands on your waist. The two of you stood silent, allowing yourselves time to devour the moment under the stars above the ocean – and the sound of the waves, pushing against the ship. Zoro let out rasped breath when your fingers massaged the back of his head, his entire body practically went into relaxation mode, and you laughed. “I’m not so cruel, am I?”
He roughly pulled you against his body and the two of you stared at each other, secret smiles on your faces. Hands on each other’s faces, your lips crashed just as the waves did and your heart skipped harder than you ever thought possible. You hoped he was feeling the same and by the way Zoro leaned in for another kiss – you knew he did. Breathless, he finally pulled away; cheeks red, lips bruised. He looked like a shy schoolboy and not the fierce man he was, it was endearing. He asked again if you wanted to come back to his bunk and the thought of being with him in the same room as the others made you uneasy and Zoro laughed. “Not like that, not with that cook in there too. Just sleep. I need sleep.”
Relieved, you agreed, and he took your hand – leading you to the men’s quarters. Quiet snores filled the room, drastic from the silence in the woman’s quarters every night. Zoro led you to his bottom bunk, got in first and moved over for you. Slipping down next to him, he immediately engulfed you in his arms – every muscle in his body surrounded you with ease and warmth. No blanket was needed, he was enough. With your back pressed against his chest, arms around your waist and his nose nuzzled against your hair – the two of you fell asleep instantly. Neither of you cared what the others would think when they woke up, completely unaware that Sanji would be the one to find you first. He would roll his eyes at the sight of you cradled in Zoro’s arms and the way you both drooled as if having the best sleep of your lives. Idiots, he would think but he knew better than most, the heart wanted what it wanted.
.....
tagging
@posessedbytheinternet @smolracoon25 @notthemainblog
@xentaipriest @xitara666 @rouzuchan @southside-otaku
@dimplewonie @stuckinthewrongworld @yourmomsgirl
@zoroshispanicwife @reneeprika @themossiestchick
@cyberneticsmoker @starrlovet
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luna-rainbow · 9 months
Text
On Steve Rogers, loss, and loneliness
Unlike some of the other characters, Steve's hurt isn't as plain to the eye. His demeanour is usually one of stoicism and optimism, and it is easy to forget that his story is steeped in loss and loneliness.
Steve's introduction highlighted how alone he was - an orphan, armed with a list of ailments, and hiding behind a newspaper to avoid small chat with other recruits. When rejected by the recruitment centre, Steve shrugs and heads to watch a movie - alone.
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Steve is a loner, we are shown, and then just as abruptly - perhaps just like the way it had happened many years ago - Bucky crashes into Steve's world and hooks an arm around his shoulders and noisily talks about an expo and dispels all of Steve's melancholic air. Steve is a loner, except for Bucky.
But Bucky is now leaving to go to war.
Steve is used to being stoic, because there were no adults around him to spoil him. He is used to being buoyant, because Sarah taught him how to pick himself up and carry on. Steve is used facing the empty house and lonely silence -- except for Bucky, who filled his room with chatter, "We can put the couch cushions on the floor, like when we were kids."
So when we hear the anxious strain in his voice as he is informed by Bucky that he is leaving -- it also becomes plain that Steve is also used to loss, or the threat of loss shadowing him, everyday.
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In his short life, he has already lost so much. He has lost his health (my thought is he was probably healthier in his early childhood until he caught scarlet fever, and then his health got a lot worse after that). He has lost his father, and all the security of having a family breadwinner. He has lost his mother - to long hours of work and eventually to the disease she was battling against.
What he dreads would happen, does happen. Life seems to have a way of chasing him down like that. Sarah gets sick, and his fear of coming home to find her gone...one day inevitably comes true.
At his darkest moment, Bucky squeezes his shoulder and promises, "You don't have to do it (alone). I'm with you to the end of the line."
It's just enough for Steve to square his shoulders and push on, as Sarah had always taught him to do. Deep inside - possibly buried so deep that he can barely put it into words, he knows that he pulled through because "Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky."
I'm going to pause here and emphasise how deeply lonely (and young) Steve was, and how, naturally, the only stable presence — ie Bucky — in his life, through periods of terrible grief and uncertainty, is going to be such a deep-rooted emotional foundation for him (regardless of how you ship).
When the draft does come for Bucky, it's not just Bucky who's unhappy, it's Steve who's also aghast. Suddenly, the possibility of losing his last bastion looms over him, and he remembers the fear and anxiety and the devastating grief of losing Sarah. But it is also a war that needs fighting - so he comes up with a solution: sign himself up. He can't keep Bucky from the war, but he wants to fight alongside him. Besides Bucky, what else does he have to lose?
"Men are laying down their lives, I have no right to do any less. That's what you don't understand, Bucky."
He says this angrily, because the words he can't say aloud are, "You are laying down your life, Bucky, and I might never see you again, and I can't go through all that again, not by myself."
When he hears about the 107th being captured, he has to go. He is saving Bucky, sure, but he is also saving himself, because the pillar, the lifebuoy, the harness that has kept him afloat all those years is Bucky, and he's terrified of sinking.
The serum makes him taller and more women pause to smile at him, but he is still incredibly alone. He sits alone during break, he draws alone in his book, he runs off alone and none of the USO girls even notices until it's his turn on stage.
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But Bucky notices him immediately, and says, "I thought you were smaller," and, "Did it hurt?"
Steve doesn't really believe in miracles. His whole life feels like one bad luck after another, even if he forces one foot in front of another and keeps marching on. But maybe at that moment, he feels like Bucky is his miracle. Bucky, who always seems to notice when he's alone and pulls him into his social circle. Bucky, who had seen him lose his dad and Sarah and promised him the end of the line. Bucky, who he - and all the commanders - thought was dead, pulls through and gives him another promise - that he would follow the little guy back into war.
When Steve is finally thrust into the frontline, the losses keeps mounting, man after man are falling, condolence letter after letter is being written. And then towards the end of 1944, the tides seem to finally turn. German forces are waning, the Allied forces are advancing, and quietly, secretly, Steve dreams of home.
And that dream dies with Bucky.
"Honour the dignity of his choice," he is told, but he can't shake off the guilt.
He pushes himself forward, step by dragging step. Nazi Germany is falling. He is taking down Hydra with his own hands…and at the end, he buries them all in the ocean with himself.
His is sinking, but he isn’t afraid, because he is going where all the people who mattered are waiting.
And he is denied even that.
He opens his eyes to a world he doesn’t recognise. They tell him they had won the war.
But no one wants to speak with him about what was lost.
A folder of old photos, the museum of unmoving murals, the silent movies of a smile he would never see again.
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He thought he had lost all there was to lose, but somehow life always seem to find something else to take.
What we see of off-duty Steve in the modern world is once again a figure of loneliness. He goes to the gym alone, he goes for a ride on the train alone, he sits at the cafe alone, he goes for runs alone, he goes to the museum alone.
Only during those solitary moments he could truly be Steve Rogers, instead of trying to meet everyone's expectations of Captain America. He is just shy of 27 years old, but suddenly, he can no longer lay claim to youth. Only a dream ago he was "just a kid from Brooklyn", and now he's an "old-fashioned" (as per Coulson) "older fellow" (as per Tony).
He's in the history books, he's on the television, he's in the classrooms; everyone knows of Captain America, but Steve Rogers is lost.
He had been willing to lose his life on the Valkyrie, but what he lost was every living connection and his own identity.
"Must have freaked you out, coming home after the whole defrosting thing," the friendly man says to him on their first meeting, but Sam only knows half of it.
The too soft bed and the too quiet room is one thing, the unshakeable nightmares another, but the worst of it is -- this isn't home.
He is marooned in a place that bears eerie resemblance to the world he knew, without being familiar.
Until the moment Bucky's mask comes off.
It's like the anchor dropping. He's now got a connection tethering him to this strange place, someone with "shared experience" that means he is no longer alone, and he is no longer a ghost forgotten by the seventy years of lost time.
"He doesn't know you."
"He will."
He has to believe that Bucky will, because Bucky is proof that Steve Rogers exists.
And once again, Bucky is his miracle. On the brink of killing them both, Bucky reels back from his brainwashing and hauls them both to safety.
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Even if Bucky leaves after that, he's left behind something Steve hasn't had for a long time -- hope, and belonging.
"Family, stability. The guy who wanted all that went in the ice seventy-five years ago," he says to Tony as he prepares to meet the ragged team of enhanced people that is to become the Avengers. "I'm home."
Stoic and buoyant as he has always been, Steve sets to work building that home for himself. Gradually, we see Steve open up. He forms new connections and new friendships, he talks about his vulnerabilities with people he trusts, and he reclaims his own identity. He looks for Bucky, and waits until Bucky is ready to build that home for himself.
Until it is once again blown apart by the end of Infinity War - he loses not just Bucky, the anchor to his past, but the new family he has made apart from Natasha.
That's why it makes sense that Steve, not Tony, is the one working so hard to reverse the Snap. His family was 5 years ago, Tony's family is now. The people who rallied behind Steve and not Captain America, the people who followed him after he dropped the shield, the people with whom he no longer needed to be endlessly lonely and tirelessly stoic and who loved him for who Steve Rogers was, they all vanished in the Snap.
So even if there was only a small hope, Steve wants them back.
And that's why his decision to leave everything he had built, the sacrifices he had made to bring them back, in order to go into a life of incredibly loneliness and deception is still the dumbest narrative faux pas in the MCU.
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xlpoww · 7 months
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when you were a waiting room.
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idiots in love is one of the sweetest sights
the finale! if you haven't, please read she'll be the best you ever had if you let her + let him first!! thank you for taking the time to read my silly little stories :)
no warnings!
word count: 1047
opla! sanji x f! reader
“mmmm! sanji these taste amazing!!” the smile you give him can’t be helped, neither can the blush across your cheeks as you look into his eyes. there’s a proud smile on his face as he places the last strawberry on the platter in front of you.
“you flatter me darling, truly.” he pushes off the counter, moving over to the sink to wash his hands as your own steal another perfectly made chocolate covered strawberry. another satisfied ‘mmm’ leaves your lips as you take a bite. a chuckle leaves the blond’s, and he turns to look at you with a smile that makes his eyes crinkle in the way you daydream about. “is there anything else i can get you, pretty girl?” 
in an attempt to mask your rapidly beating heart, you turn to look out one of the windows. while you are frantically trying to compose yourself you hear the water shut off; but you fail to hear sanji’s footsteps getting closer. his hand on your shoulder makes you jump, which gets a laugh out of him. “did i scare you? too deep in thought to pay me any mind?” 
“I WANT HOT CHOCOLATE!” you blurt out loudly.
the sudden flustered shout makes him flinch, but he quickly recovers, shaking his head with another winning smile. he pauses for a moment, slowly moving a hand up to rest on your cheek. you freeze in place as he rubs his thumb over your lower lip. time seems to stop as he retreats his hand, only to return it to your face after he licks his finger and delicately wipes his thumb across your lip. his face showing an adorable amount of concentration for such a small task, tongue is even poking out slightly. after wiping away the offending chocolate, he pulls his hand back to suck on his thumb. he makes a dramatic show and “hmmm” of approval of the taste, the taste of your lips.
as quick as the moment began, its over; and he’s taking a step back with a barley hidden smirk. you’re so red you can practically feel your skin burning. 
“you had some leftover on your lip my love, i couldn’t let it go to waste.” 
you might pass out.
—---
sanji made sure to store away some strawberries for you, because as expected, as soon as the rest of the crew returned to the ship, they were devoured. not without plenty question as to why you got made a special desert.
“why does y/n get the professional chef all to herself when she stays back on the ship? i thought you weren’t feeling well. we should have known it was your plan all along to keep sanji to yourself.” usopp’s complaints are paired with a pointed stare that makes you feel like he knows more than he’s letting on. you stick your tongue out at the liar childishly, and he scoffs loudly. “the audacity you have is actually crazy.”
“calm down usopp, she had nothing to do with my plan to come back and keep her company. can you blame me for wanting to bring a smile to such a pretty face?” sanji walks up behind where you’re sitting at the table to place a hand on your back. he slowly rubs up and down it comfortably as he continues on, “leave my girl out of your jealous accusations.” 
there’s no way to hide the way your eyes go wide when four out of six crew members are staring directly at you. sanji’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder and squeezes slightly as nami raises an eyebrow and looks at him. she crosses her arms and speaks “your girl?” 
“like hell the waiter finally confessed to you y/n” zoro adds on with a scoff and crossed arms. your jaw drops so low, you’re a bit worried you might have strained it. you can’t even bring yourself to look up at the blond when you feel his body go rigid.
“it would be wise of you to shut your mouth swordfighter.” there’s a bite to sanji’s voice that you’re unfamiliar with, still, it does nothing but confirm zoro’s words. 
‘he likes you?’ 
before the argument escalates any further, nami steps forward and turns to zoro. “let’s go guys, it seems these two need some more alone time.”
“good luck with your confession sanji!” luffy’s enthusiastic voice calls out as he’s ushered out by nami. before she closes the door behind them, she turns to offer you what feels like an apologetic head tilt. you can't really tell, nor do you care to dwell on it when sanji is standing right behind you. ‘what the fuck.’
“y/n?” sanji used your name for the first time, ever.
“sanji, do you really like me?” your turn in your chair the best you can to face him. when you look up, you’re met with a face you’d never imagined you would see on the flirtatious chef. his face was dusted with a beautiful pink blush, and his eyes were looking everywhere but you. he looked so shy. it was nothing short of adorable. he seems to take a moment to compose himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep breathe. when he breathes out he opens his eyes and holds his hands out to you. when you take his hands in your own, he pulls you up to stand with him. with a squeeze of your hands, he finally responds.
“i so much more than like you sweetheart, you have absolutely no idea.”
“i thought,” you stammer, “ i didn't think you liked me more than any of the other girls your flirt with-” 
“i love you y/n, and i have for so long now. all those other girls were nothing but momentary distractions, an attempt to flush my mind of you. clearly it never worked” he smiles bashfully, squeezing your hands once again. your shoulders have never felt lighter, heart never fuller. 
“i love you, sanji.” your smile is brighter than any star he’s had the pleasure of gazing at.
“can i kiss you, my love?” you unravel your hands to wrap your arms around his neck. his hands fall onto your waist like missing puzzle pieces.
“i never thought you'd ask.”
taglist: @the-maladaptive-daydreamers
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rwby-encrusted-blog · 2 months
Text
Ruby: Hey, Jaune, I know we've met your sister's and all, but what about Extended Family?
Jaune: Well, About that ...
~~~~~
Jaune: Hi Aunt Cynthia! It's been a while hasn't it!
(Champion) Cynthia: Indeed it has Jaune. Your sister's keeping you busy?
Jaune: Don't you know it. How's being Champion?
Cynthia: Tiring some days, detracts from my time to search ruins and hunt for relics and myths- Though i wouldn't change it for the world.
Cynthia: You've got a lot stronger at Beacon, huh? Let's test your skills in battle!
~~~~~
Darkness: You really must grow a spine cousin! You're the only Man in your Family, and you should act like it!
Jaune: I- I know Darkness ...
Darkness: Hold yourself High, Speak Clearly and With confidence and Teach those Girl where they Belong, Beneath Your Heel!
Jaune: Well, They're my friends-
Darkness: Grinding it down in the back of their heads, Pushing Their Faces into the D-Dirt!
Darkness: Making them clean it with their tongues, perfectly subservient to your whims or else they'll be punished~
Jaune: ... Darkness?
Darkness: *Holding herself, Shivering* And Gods that Strength~ Leaving Marks, throwing them around as Ragdolls~ Hmm~ The P-perfect Man~ To use them at your Leisure~
Jaune: ... This is why I don't talk to you about leading people.
~~~~~
Jaune: And Pyrrha's nice and helpful, teaching me how to fight.
Link: *Pouring Honey over Salmon*
Jaune: She reminds of your old friend Mipha in a way ... Kind, powerful, but too shy for her own good.
Link: *Pauses at Mipha's name, resumes*
Jaune: People think there's mutual respect, when really She's too scared to not be Pyrrha Nikos, Four Time Regional Champion and Argus's Sweetheart, and call them out on their BS. She's tired of the Fame. I just hope I can be the person she's not scared of being herself around.
Link: *Puts Fish in Oven, Turns to Jaune, Signing* I wish I could help you be that ... It's really a matter of time, and proving your reliability and the respect you have for her. Lords know that's what it took for Zelda to see me as her Anchor, not her Leash. Something to rely on in a storm, not fight against.
Link: After all, the most important thing we can give another is our Time. Don't squander yours.
~~~~~
Jaune: Aunt Sam-
Samus Aran: No you can't take apart my ship.
Jaune: I'm Jaune, Not Claire.
Samus: Right, I get all you confused.
Jaune: You seem stressed.
Samus: I'm always Stressed.
Jaune: More Stressed. You're Molting.
Samus: *Pulling loose feathers out* Yes, and it's stressing me out, Now if you don't know how to help me fix my armor, Shoo.
Jaune: *Hugs her* Take a breath Aunt Sammy.
Samus: *Shaking*
Samus: *Sinks to the Floor, Crying* I- I miss them.
Jaune: I know. I know.
~~~~~
Jaune: I just washed the walls and ceiling, could you please not walk on them?
Gwen Stacy: I dunno ... It's pretty Fun!
Jaune: Gwen, Please.
Gwen: Fine. *She Falls to the floor, landing in three point*
Jaune: Why do you do that everytime you're over.
Gwen: To get a rise out of you. *She slings a chair beneath her* It's pretty fun.
Jaune: *Sigh* Why am I always the target- Go mess with, what's his name? Kilometer? Whatever your boyfriends Name- HMM!
Gwen: *Webbing jaune's mouth, Blushing* he's not- We're not- Shut UP!
Jaune: *Smug, Mouth still covered in Web*
~~~~~
Jaune: ... And that's not even a sixth of them.
Ruby: ... That's all on your mom's side?
Jaune: Yeah, I only got Uncle on My Dad's side.
~~~~~
Mama Arc: HELLMOND BIORACY ANGEL! YOU ARE MY BROTHER IN LAW, AND YOU WILL TEACH MY SON ON HOW TO GET ME GRANDBABIES!
The Helltaker: *Scared for his life* Yes Ma'am!
285 notes · View notes
rosepascal · 8 months
Note
🥭 - Pedro boys: ass or tits & why
Congrats on 1.5k sweet girl!
Im so sorry this took so long i just got home from a weekend trip but I hope u enjoy!!
ft: Joel Miller, Jack Daniels, Din Djarin, Marcus Pike, Marcus Moreno, Max Phillips, Max Lord, Javi G, Javi P, Dieter Bravo, Frankie Morales, Oberyn Martell
join my 1.5k celebration!
Ass boys
Joel Miller - That man definitely lets his eyes wander, respectfully, when he walks behind someone with a nice ass. He loves to have his hands on your ass. Like hes the guy to put his hand in your back pocket just so he can feel your ass at all times.
Jack "Whiskey" Daniels - I just know this man likes you on your hands and knees as he hits it from the back. He def checks you out in a not so subtle way and def taps your ass in public
Din Djarin - I think he’a shy about it and not as straight forward but he loves a nice ass. He tries not to look to be respectful but it def turns him on a little. He doesn’t do anything in public but in the privacy of his ship he’ll rest his hands on your hips only to slowly lower them as subtly as he can.
Marcus Pike - Idk why I just see Pike as an ass guy. He likes to squeeze it to tease and I can just see him getting horny over a nice plump ass. One that he can grab and play with.
Tits boys
Max Phillips - Max is incredibly vulgar and he is not afraid to let you know how much he loves your boobs. He’d even look down your shirt shamelessly. He’d squeeze them randomly when you’re alone just to be a menace.
Max Lord - The other max is not as vulgar as vampire boss but he does love boobs. He's more held back when it comes to his adoration of them but he still worships them. He loves holding them because they're warm and nice and it just comforts him
Marcus Moreno - I think Marcus tries his best to be as respectful as he can but he loves tits. Like tries not to let his eyes wander and he glances at your cleavage and then feels guilty about it. I think after a long day he likes to lay on your chest and just sink into you.
Javi Gutierrez - Javi is such like a teddy bear that I think he'll say something that he doesn't realize is a little vulgar or flirty about your tits. He just really likes them. He likes to see them and to touch them. He just worships them.
Frankie Morales - Frankie is a tits man for sure. I don't really know how to explain it but I just know this man's mouth waters a the idea of seeing your naked boobs. Like if you're ever arguing you can just lift your shirt and he'll stop everything and just kinda look. He def comes up behind you and squeezes your boobs randomly too.
Both
Oberyn Martell - Oberyn loves every part of the body on everyone. He doesn't have a preference at all. Why would he choose one when both of them are as perfect as the other. He'll happily play with your tits or your ass any day of the week.
Javier Pena - Something about Pena makes me think that he doesn't care. If you're hot then you're hot. He loves taking it from the back and watching your tits move as he fucks you. His hands go where ever they want on your body so he doesn't care.
Dieter Bravo - I think Dieter is the same way. He doesn't have a preference because if he finds someone attractive then he finds every part of them attractive. He loves your boobs and your ass equally and if you ask why he'll gladly show you.
464 notes · View notes
ginnsbaker · 8 months
Text
In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (23/23)
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Chapter summary: One year later, Wanda returns to the place where you promise to meet each other again
Chapter word count: 5.5k+ | Warnings: None | Ship: Wanda x Reader
Author's note: And here we are! Will post the Epilogue tomorrow night :)
AO3 | Masterlist 
Next part: Epilogue
-
Twenty-Three
One year later
It’s the most important flight of her life.
Wanda Maximoff is finally going home after a year in Barcelona. 
And it's only a matter of days before the date circled on her calendar arrives, the day she's set to see you again.
Before she boarded the plane, Pietro gave her a call, extending his well wishes and backing for her reunion. Shannon is expecting their second child, a baby girl. Pietro would have loved to be there for Wanda, to welcome her back after such an extended absence. However, Shannon's pregnancy has been more delicate this time around, requiring his undivided attention and care.
In the remaining moments before take-off, and after having secured Sparky on her lap, Wanda finds herself gazing at a picture of you on her phone. It’s an image that Valkyrie captured during the Cup-off, a picture of you and her side by side, your awkward yet endearing smile juxtaposed with her exuberant, wide grin.
As the plane ascends, distancing itself from the ground, her mind becomes filled with thoughts of you. She pushes the tray table up and leans her head against the window, watching the shrinking world below.
Have you changed? Have you grown out your hair or cut it shorter? Did your laugh still come out in those adorable bursts, or had life worn it down to a chuckle?
But beyond these surface changes, she wonders about your feelings. A year can transform emotions as much as it can alter appearances. But her heart aches for you, hoping that this part, this important part of you, remains constant.
The questions dance around in her mind as the miles fly by beneath her. 
Soon, she thinks, soon she'll see you again. Soon, she'll have her answers.
The moment her feet touch the ground at JFK airport, Wanda heads straight to the cafe. 
Although she's still got three days until she sees you, she has missed everyone else. When the opportunity arose to further her studies in culinary arts overseas, she felt compelled to take it. It was a prestigious scholarship in hospitality, coupled with advanced pastry and chocolate crafting, offered to her by one of the judges from last year's Cup-off competition.
Before leaving, Wanda had finalized a business partnership with Agatha, entrusting her with the cafe's operations during her absence. It was a decision made out of trust and necessity, knowing the cafe would be in capable hands.
At first, Wanda was ambivalent, reluctant to leave the comfort of all she knew. But when you told her about your decision, about needing a year to yourself, she took it as a sign. She took the opportunity to explore, grow, and learn more, just like you were doing. But now she's back, eager to catch up with everyone and curious about how the cafe has thrived under Agatha's care.
What immediately strikes Wanda about her cafe is the additional space it now occupies. When the shop next door had shut down eight months earlier, Agatha had promptly rung her up to grab the opportunity to expand their business. The cafe had been drawing an increasing number of customers since their victory in the Cup-off, and Wanda had immediately agreed to the expansion, recognizing that they were quickly outgrowing the existing space.
“Don’t pour anywhere but the coffee bed, Daisy, okay?” 
Peter's voice is the first thing that reaches her ears as she steps inside. He's guiding a young woman, likely a new employee, through the ins and outs of the pour-over brewing method, just like how Wanda taught him before. Their heads turn as the door chimes and an almost instant smile lights up Peter's face.
Wanda's own lips twitch upwards into a grin, returning the warm greetings silently before gently unhooking Sparky's leash. He doesn’t waste any time sniffing every inch of the room in a frenzy of enthusiasm.
“Wanda!” Peter exclaims, leaving the confines of the open kitchen to wrap her in a warm embrace. Just as he lets her go, Agatha appears from the backroom.
“Maximoff!” Agatha shrieks, drawing the attention of several heads in the room. She strides over quickly and practically shoves Peter out of the way so she can enfold Wanda in an even more suffocating hug.
“Welcome back!” Agatha exclaims, stepping back to look at her; her business partner is positively glowing. “How was Spain?”
Wanda smiles, “It was an incredible experience. I learned so much and met so many great people. And Barcelona... It’s a beautiful city.”
“And the food?” Peter interjects, looking curious.
“Out of this world,” Wanda replies with a laugh. Then she turns to Agatha and says, “So, tell me about your new hot date?”
As they chat and catch up, Wanda finds herself glancing at the clock every now and then, her heart beating a little faster with each passing minute. Three days. Just three more days until she sees you again.
Wanda wonders if these three days would feel longer than the year she spent without you.
***
Three days later, the large clock on the wall reads half-past eight. The cafe is usually buzzing with activity around this time, but today it’s quieter, as if everyone else is holding their breath too. 
Thirty minutes till closing, and you’re still a no-show.
Wanda is seated at the bar stool near the entrance, her elbows resting on the counter as she gazes blankly out of the window. Every now and then, her eyes flit towards the door, hoping to see your familiar figure. But each time, she’s met with disappointment.
She can't help but wonder if you've forgotten about the arrangement, or perhaps decided not to show up intentionally. Maybe you've decided to move on, to continue living your life without her. But the thought that terrifies her most is the possibility that something might have happened to you.
She shakes her head, trying to rid herself of these pessimistic thoughts. “They're late, not absent,” she mutters under her breath, clinging to the hope that you'll show up before the clock strikes nine.
Just as the last of her hope seems to be dwindling, the sudden presence of a new arrival snaps her back to the present.
She pivots slowly, heart thundering, and her eyes lock onto a face she had least expected to encounter today.
It's Natasha striding into the cafe with an inscrutable expression.
Seeing her, Wanda feels a strange mix of relief and anxiety. She hasn't seen Natasha since she confronted Wanda about her feelings for you, hasn’t heard from her since she helped locate you in Montauk. If Natasha is here, does that mean you're not coming? Or is she here to deliver a message from you?
Natasha catches sight of Wanda a second later and offers a small smile, a knowing look in her eyes. Wanda's breath catches, her vision momentarily blurring, while her pulse quickens, thundering in her ears.
“Good, you’re still here,” Natasha mutters, claiming the bar stool next to her. A snide remark about how she actually owns the place flits across Wanda's mind, but she brushes it aside, curious to see what Natasha is doing here.
“Nat–”
“I’m not going to beat around the bush because I’m terribly late and she’ll kill me if she finds out,” Natasha explains in a rush. “But Y/N won’t be able to make it.”
Her grip tightens around the edge of the table, knuckles white, as the room seems to tilt slightly. She had prepared herself for the worst, but hearing that you weren't coming still felt like a blow. She had spent the past year missing you, hoping for your return, and the fact that you weren't showing up as promised was a hard pill to swallow.
“Is it... is it because she doesn't want to?” Wanda asks quietly. Her whole disposition seems to wilt, as though an unseen force is pressing down on her.
Natasha lets out a heavy sigh, avoiding Wanda's questioning gaze. “It's...complicated.”
Wanda feels her heart dropping at the evasive response. A part of her doesn't want to hear what comes next, but she knows she has to.
“Y/N's mom has recently been diagnosed with Alzheimer's,” Natasha begins carefully. “And it's been tough on her, especially since she's also trying to mend their strained relationship.”
Wanda feels her heart twist at the news. She knew of your tumultuous relationship with your mother, and the added burden of dealing with such an illness must be incredibly hard on you. It only increases her longing to be at your side, to provide you the comfort you need at this critical time.
“Moreover,” Natasha continues, “She feels like she's not yet ready to see you... that she needs more time.” 
The words sting, and Wanda can't help but feel a rush of disappointment. 
“Thank you for letting me know, Natasha,” she says, attempting a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. “I had...well, you know, built up a lot in my head about this reunion.”
“I get that,” Natasha admits with a sigh. “And honestly? I wish she'd had the guts to tell you herself.”
Wanda looks away, blinking rapidly. “Yeah. So do I.”
Natasha's gaze lingers on Wanda's downturned face. There was a time when she despised the very sight of the woman before her, every fiber of her being resisting any empathy. But now, watching Wanda crumble, it twists something inside of her.
“Do you... do you have any idea why Y/N still doesn't feel ready to see me?” Wanda asks all of a sudden. There is a slight tremor in her voice, but she fights hard to keep her emotions in check, swallowing the lump in her throat. She needs to know, needs to understand, so she can find a way to support you, even if it's from a distance.
Natasha merely shakes her head. “I'm sorry, Wanda, but I don't have the answer,” she says, her voice carrying an undertone of regret.
Wanda gives a nod, a sad smile curving her lips. “Alright, thank you, Natasha,” she says quietly, a soft resignation in her voice. She wraps her arms around herself, as if trying to find comfort in her own embrace. Despite the gloom, she tries to put on a brave front. “Tell Y/N that... tell Y/N that I'm here, whenever she’s ready.”
“There's something else, Wanda,” Natasha says evenly, but there's a solemn look on her face that sends a shiver down Wanda's spine. “Y/N wanted me to tell you that it's okay to move on. She feels guilty that she couldn’t fulfill her promise and she doesn’t want you waiting forever.”
Wanda takes a deep breath, her eyes glistening as she fights back the tears, especially in front of your best friend.
“She... doesn't want me to wait?” Wanda's voice breaks a little as she forces the words out. 
The idea is utterly unfathomable to her. The very thought of not waiting, of possibly moving forward without you, feels foreign, almost laughable. All this time, she felt tethered to you, even with the miles and silence between. 
“No, Wanda, that’s not it,” Natasha gently corrects, her demeanor softening. “She thinks it’s not fair to you. To keep you waiting for something that might not even happen.”
Wanda blinks, a frown marring her face. “But I want to wait for her.”
Natasha sighs, rubbing her temples. “She worries that she might be holding you back from finding someone who can, well, be there for you. Someone who can offer you more certainty.”
“Does she need more time?” Wanda asks, and though she can hear the tinge of desperation in her own voice, she couldn’t bring herself to care. “I can wait, you know. I can give her all the time she needs.”
“That's the thing, Wanda,” Natasha says, meeting her eyes with a grimness that makes Wanda's heart sink. “She no longer knows when she'll be ready, if she'll ever be. She didn't want to give you an indefinite timeline.”
The gears in Wanda's mind are visibly turning as she digests the information, her face contorting with various emotions before settling on a desperate resolve. “Can I contact her? Just to see if she's okay?”
Natasha is quick to shake her head, an empathetic look on her face. “Wanda, I don't think that's a good idea.”
“But–”
“Listen,” Natasha interrupts, holding her gaze. “I understand where you're coming from. I do–”
Fury surges through Wanda. She pounds her hand on the table, her voice trembling as she snaps back, “Oh, so you know all about it, do you? Given your own track record with relationships, Natasha, can you honestly tell me you get where I'm coming from?”
“Yes,” Natasha says firmly, a statue of patience, undeterred by Wanda’s outburst. And she's able to remain steady, because she truly does get it. 
“Look, Wanda,” Natasha begins, leaning back in her chair with a sigh. “I made Bruce wait for me for years,” Her gaze falls, as if lost in the painful memories. “But all that waiting, all that uncertainty, it only bred more resentment, more pain. I hurt him more by making him wait than if I had just let him go. Perhaps I even took away many opportunities for him to be happy.”
She finally lifts her gaze to meet Wanda's. “Sometimes, we have to let go of the people we love, not because we want to, but because it's the right thing to do. It's not easy, and it hurts like hell. But sometimes, it's the kindest thing we can do.”
Wanda lapses into silence, feeling a sting of regret for having belittled Natasha's own experiences. She realizes, perhaps too late, that heartache is not a competition and that she has no right to assume that her own pain holds precedence over the other woman.
“In the end, I think Y/N is trying to spare you both from going through the same thing,” Natasha finishes, her voice thick with emotion as she allows a glimpse into her own painful past.
An extended period of silence blankets the pair as they both wrestle with their respective thoughts, looking out the window. As Wanda observes the thick snow blanketing the Manhattan pavements, she can't help but draw comparisons to the winters she experienced in Spain. The biting cold is a far cry from the Spanish winters where temperatures never dipped below zero. She likens herself to a plant frozen in an enduring winter, suddenly thawed out, expecting the warmth of spring, only to be thrown again in an even longer winter–an uncertain one.
The silence stretches on until it is broken by an awkward cough from Natasha. “So...uh,” she starts, glancing at her watch. “Is it too late to order a cup of coffee? I know you guys close in like, ten minutes?”
Wanda can't help the small chuckle that escapes her lips. Nodding, she pushes off from the table, making her way towards the counter. “It's never too late for a cup of coffee.”
Natasha follows her to the open kitchen, leaning casually against the countertop as Wanda gets to work. Wanda moves around the space with practiced ease, retrieving two mugs and starting the espresso machine.
“When did you two patch things up?” Wanda tosses out casually, glancing at Natasha while the coffee brews.
“About six months ago,” Natasha shares. Wanda acknowledges with a nod, meticulously pouring the espresso and then frothing milk, completely absorbed in her task.
“Because she took your advice?” Wanda asks over her shoulder, the undercurrent of raw emotion detectable in her otherwise composed demeanor.
Appearing a bit disconcerted, Natasha shakes her head slowly. “Truth be told, I didn't even know she took my advice... went her own separate way,” Natasha reveals, her eyes darting away. “I found out when her mother called me by accident. The anger had subsided by then. I wasn't furious anymore. I just... I missed her.”
As Wanda brings Natasha her coffee, they fall into a comfortable silence, standing side by side at the counter. 
“Even if she hadn't taken my advice, I think we would have found our way back to each other, eventually,” Natasha says, her voice soft, almost wistful. "She's my best friend, after all.”
Natasha stirs her coffee, her gaze lingering on the whirls of foam swirling in her cup. She doesn’t look at Wanda as she speaks again. “I’m sorry, Wanda,” she says, her tone solemn. “For having a hand in this. I never meant for things to turn out this way.”
Wanda gives her a long, hard look before letting out a sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I know, Nat. It’s not your fault,” she says, her voice subdued. “I’m the one who set things in motion.”
Natasha, with a stern look, responds, “You can’t keep blaming yourself, Wanda.”
“I'm not blaming myself,” Wanda quickly counters, her voice carrying a faint echo of a smile. “But it's the truth. I've accepted that what happens in our future is like ripples spreading out from our decisions and actions.”
Natasha gazes at Wanda thoughtfully until Wanda starts to fidget under the intense scrutiny.
“What?” Wanda finally asks, her tone almost defensive.
“Nothing,” Natasha replies, her lips curling into a small, amused smile. “You just called me 'Nat'.”
Taken aback, Wanda gives a small, sheepish laugh. “Is that... bad?” she asks, her cheeks flushing a little in embarrassment.
“No, not at all,” Natasha's smile is warm and friendly. And for the first time, Wanda feels the start of a real, meaningful friendship between them.
Wanda’s quiet for a moment, mulling over something. Then, she breaks the silence with a soft sigh, “I'll wait for her. No matter how long it takes.”
Natasha raises her eyebrows, a clear question on her face. “Are you sure, Wanda?” She asks, her voice equally soft. “You're setting yourself up for a long, uncertain wait.”
“Yeah, I know,” Wanda murmurs, eyes instinctively darting to where the band used to be on her finger, now just a faint mark left behind. “But I want to. And... I'd appreciate it if you don't tell her. I don’t want to weigh her down with the burden of knowing that someone is here waiting for her.”
“You have my word,” she promises. Natasha takes a sip from her coffee, then poses her next question, “Hey, do you mind if I swing by here sometimes?”
Wanda gives her a mock exasperated look, rolling her eyes, “Of course, Nat. As long as you're not planning to rob me blind or something.”
Natasha chuckles at this, taking another sip and then humming in satisfaction. “Good,” she smiles appreciatively, “Because this might just be the best coffee I've ever tasted.”
***
A year and two weeks later
As you amble down the familiar streets leading to Second Chances Cafe, each footfall feels heavier than the last. You're more than a year late, and you have no idea if there's anything or anyone still waiting for you after all this time.
“Sure, Yelena, I can look into it for you,” you speak into your phone, rounding the corner onto the alley where the cafe is located. A twinge of nostalgia hits you as the signboard comes into view.
“Really?” Yelena sounds surprised and relieved all at once. “I mean, that's fantastic! You have no idea how much this could help. And don't worry about your identity being revealed. I'll make sure it stays hidden. This exposé is about uncovering the truth about Stark Industries’ tax evasion case, not dragging you into unwanted attention.”
You appreciate her consideration, knowing how much of a sticky situation it could become if your name gets thrown around with the exposé, especially considering you used to work for them.
As your conversation wraps up, you remember to send your best wishes to her partner, “Give my regards to Kate, will you?”
Yelena's laughter echoes from the other end, “She's right here. Kate, Y/N says 'hi'.”
There's a muted shout from the background, presumably Kate's greeting, and you can't help but chuckle. “Tell her I’ll beat her half-marathon record next time. I'll see you both soon.”
With that, you end the call. As you slide your phone back into your pocket, your fingers trace and then retrieve another item there–the contours of an old photo you have carried with you all this time. It’s the photo Valkyrie took of you and Wanda at the Cup-off, and you kept it with you wherever you went for more than two years. It’s tattered around the edges, but you both looked so happy, so in love, and so hopeful. 
It was a different time–a different you. 
Taking one final glance at the picture, you tuck it back safely into your pocket and push open the door to the cafe, the bell overhead jingling in recognition. The familiar sounds, the smells, the sight of the cozy interiors bring back a flood of memories. Your heart flutters with both anxiety and anticipation as you step inside, not knowing what awaits you, a year and two weeks too late.
Two unfamiliar faces are tending to the cafe at the moment. As you slowly approach the counter, you catch sight of a name tag on one of the employees–‘Daisy’, it reads. She greets you warmly, welcoming you before promptly asking for your order.
Rather than choosing a drink, your mind is focused elsewhere. You hesitate for a moment before speaking. “Actually, I was wondering…” you start, pausing to gather your thoughts. “Is the owner here today–”
Before you can even utter Wanda's name, Daisy interrupts, offering an apologetic smile. “I'm sorry, but the owner's not here right now. She's on an extended honeymoon in Asia,” she explains.
As soon as the words leave Daisy's mouth, it's as if everything around you ceases to exist. The casual banter, that constant buzz of the espresso machine, even the sound of mugs and spoons clattering, it all just blends into some distant background noise. 
“Honeymoon?” The word tumbles out of your mouth, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears, the impact of the statement making your heart lurch uncomfortably in your chest. “She's... married?”
Daisy nods sympathetically, her eyes showing a hint of surprise at your visible shock. “Yes, they left three months ago. I think they're in Bali now... or was it Thailand?”
Her words ricochet inside your mind, leaving you grappling with the sudden change in reality. Looking back, you guess it isn't the worst thing that could have happened. Honestly, you had no idea what you were walking into when you decided to come here. After all, you had asked Natasha to tell Wanda not to wait.
And that’s it, Wanda found love again, real enough for her to want to say 'yes' to a new beginning with someone else, and you’re–
You’re happy for her. At the end of the long dwindling tunnel, you just wanted to see Wanda once again. If not, you want to make sure she’s happy and living her life to the fullest. 
And knowing that makes you feel okay, maybe even hopeful, about moving forward. 
The smile that makes its way to your lips isn’t forced. It’s not as big as you hope it would be but it’s genuine. As you take in your surroundings, seeing the expanded area of the cafe, you can’t help but be proud of her. 
It's so overwhelming that you don't even notice the tears tracing a warm path down your cheeks until you hear Daisy's voice.
“Ma'am, are you alright?” she asks, concern etched in her young face.
Surprised, you hastily swipe at your eyes with chilled fingers.
“May I leave something for her?” you ask Daisy, pulling out the polaroid from earlier. You take a moment, looking at it one last time, before flipping it over and pulling out a pen.
With careful, slow strokes, you inscribe the words, ‘I'm happy for you, wherever you are.’ 
As you pass the photograph over to Daisy, the reality of the situation seeps in, casting a definitive end to the chapter that was. The young woman before you studies the photograph, her brows knitting together in confusion, a detail you fail to notice as you begin to take your leave.
Wanda is your greatest love–enough to last you this lifetime. You’ll find a way to spend the rest of your life without her, knowing what you two had will sustain you until your last breath. 
Daisy watches as you walk away, wondering who you were and why it felt like she had said the wrong thing.
Just moments after you step out of the cafe, its door swings open again to let in a breathless Wanda, her arms laden with grocery bags. 
She narrowly missed your visit by a heartbeat.
“God, this city is unbearably cold,” she grumbles, setting down the bags onto the counter with a huff. Daisy wastes no time handing her the keepsake you had left behind only moments ago.
“Hey Wanda, this was left for you,” Daisy says, extending your memento towards her.
Wanda, still catching her breath from her rush over, eyes the object in Daisy's hand with curiosity. From where she stands she can already tell what it is and who it’s from. The world seems to pause, almost taking a breath, as she hesitantly extends a trembling hand to take it.
Her voice breaks a bit as she asks, “Who... who dropped this off? When was this?”
Daisy, reading the urgency in Wanda's eyes, scrambles to recall. “A woman came in not long ago…” she starts, but Wanda's already dashing for the exit before she can finish.
Holding the photograph close to her chest, Wanda barely gives Daisy a chance to finish her sentence before she's out of the cafe, the door swinging shut behind her with a soft chime. Daisy, left in a daze by the abrupt departure, hardly has time to process what just happened.
Then, just as quickly, Wanda bursts back in, her face flushed from the adrenaline. “Which way did she go?” she asks urgently. Daisy, taken aback, simply points north. 
With a nod of thanks, Wanda takes off in that direction. Based on Daisy's indication, she surmises you’re probably headed towards the subway station. Her heart pounds in her chest as she makes her way through the familiar streets, the city's buzz fading to a dull roar in her ears. All she can focus on is the hope that she's not too late, that she might still catch you.
Racing towards the station with swift, almost reckless strides, the life she shared with you hit Wanda like a tidal wave. As each scene of their past plays out in her mind, she sends a silent prayer to anyone listening above, begging for a chance to find you.
Wanda's footsteps echo in the nearly deserted subway station. It's a lull between the usual crowds, making the vast space feel even more desolate. The sparsely populated platform should have made it easier to spot you, but instead, it made the hollow in her chest grow.
As she steps onto the almost empty platform, the glaring absence of familiar faces or shapes drowns her in dread. Every corner she checks, every shadow she hopes will move to reveal you, and with each passing second, the sinking feeling in her gut grows. 
Drawing a deep, shaky breath, she fights off the building tears, hoping against all odds for a glimpse, a hint, any sign that she hasn't missed her chance.
And then she sees you.
You're at the far end of the platform, bundled up in a thick black coat, hands rubbing together in a bid to fight off the cold. You blow into them, your breath fogging up in the chill.
For a beat, Wanda just watches. She doesn't rush, doesn't shout. She simply approaches with measured steps, drinking in the sight of you, allowing this moment to stretch out. 
As she gets closer, she takes in the subtle changes. The way your hair falls around your face, the look of concentration as you keep yourself warm, the way your shoulders hunch slightly against the cold. 
It's you, but also a different you, one shaped by time and distance.
She stops just beyond your immediate circle, her heart pounding furiously within her chest. Yet, before her lips part to speak your name, something–shift, an intuition–makes you pivot sharply towards her.
Your eyes blink slowly in surprise and then they quickly flick to her left ring finger.
It's bare. 
Your mouth drops open, then shuts again, clearly struggling to comprehend the sight of Wanda standing only a few feet away. 
“The woman from the coffee shop... she said you were married?” 
“That's Agatha,” Wanda responds, tears welling in her eyes.
“But she mentioned the owner–”
“I sold the cafe to her a year ago. I'm in the process of setting up a restaurant. I... I've been assisting at the cafe while she's on her honeymoon,” Wanda explains with a faint laugh.
“I thought–” Your voice breaks off, and the overwhelming urge to pull her into an embrace nearly overpowers you. Yet, there's a question, one that burns with urgency, that you need to clarify. 
Any more confusion could devastate what's left of your heart.
“Are you with someone else?”
Wanda releases a noise, somewhere between a chuckle and a choked cry, and then she's rushing into your arms, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that's tear-streaked, snotty, a little gross, yet absolutely perfect. 
Because kissing Wanda Maximoff could never be anything other than perfect. ​​You hesitantly deepen the kiss, and suddenly, it's like a dam breaking. The cold metal and concrete around you are replaced by the warmth of her body pressed against yours. A faint scent of her shampoo wafts over, one that you recognize from days long past.
Your fingers, almost of their own accord, find their way to her face, tracing the contours you once knew so well, feeling the dampness of her tears. The intensity of the kiss shifts with each moment–at times tender, at times desperate, like a language only the two of you understand.
Breaking the kiss, she pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, her own filled with a level of intensity that nearly takes your breath away.
“I'm not with anyone,” she says, her words tumbling out between gasping breaths. “There hasn't been anyone else for the last two years. It's only ever been you–”
“Me too,” you whisper against her lips before diving back into another kiss. This kiss is different, less desperate, but it’s as if this single kiss is mending the broken threads of the past, sealing the promise that you two will never let go again.
But eventually, you have to let go and let her breathe. Pulling back just a hair, you rest your forehead against Wanda's. “God, I've missed you,” you murmur, eyes still closed, half-afraid that this might just vanish if you dare to look.
Wanda gives a watery chuckle, “You have no idea.”
“I'm sorry I'm a year late,” you utter, tears suddenly spilling over before you can rein them in. The thought that Wanda might have really been the one that got married, that you could have truly lost her, crashes over you.
Wanda gently strokes your cheek with her thumb, her eyes soft and understanding. “Even if you're always late,” she murmurs, her lips tantalizingly close to yours, “I'll always wait for you.”
Holding Wanda close, you feel an overwhelming desire to ask her to marry you again. But this time, you won't rush it. After all, there’s two years of new things to learn about each other. And you want to cherish everything–the way her eyes light up when she laughs, the warmth of her hand in yours, and the quiet moments shared over morning coffee. 
You want to learn from your past, not rush into the future. You're ready to enjoy each day, to let your relationship grow and strengthen naturally. You're willing to be patient, because you know that the journey is just as important as the destination.
Wanda raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eye as she waves the photograph slightly. “You really just dropped off this photo and planned to leave? Wishing me happiness like that?”
You nod, sniffling, “It meant everything to me. I thought... I thought if I couldn't be with you, at least I could hope you found happiness.”
Wanda's expression softens, her fingers tracing the lines of your palm before squeezing your hand reassuringly. “So, you were just gonna let me go, thinking I had moved on?” She laughs softly, though there's a tremble in her voice.
You swallow, the tightness in your throat making it hard to speak. “A lot can happen in two years, Wanda,” you say, meeting her gaze squarely. “More than anything, I wanted you to be happy... whether that was with me or someone else.”
She tilts her head, her eyes searching yours for a moment. “Two years,” she muses, as if contemplating the weight of every day, every hour that had passed between you two. Wanda takes your hand, squeezing it gently. "Let's not lose any more time," she whispers, intertwining her fingers with yours. 
You eventually miss the train that you’re supposed to take. 
But it doesn’t matter.
You’re already home.
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