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bro-atz · 5 months

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dancing with the devil

in which: someone wants you eliminate you from this world, and they hire seonghwa to do it.

pair: assassin!seonghwa/afab!reader

word count: 4k

content: angst, smut, bedroom sex, suspense, murder, seonghwa kinda being a sleazebag, plot twists?, completely consensual (sex)!

author's note: i listened to devil by wonho while writing this, but when arriba comes out, listen to that and read this. also... just know that i am truly very extremely horribly completely sorry for what i have done. (update: after listening to arriba... devil fits better oop)

tag list: @k-hotchoisan @eyeryis apply for the permanent taglist here! part one | part two

Seonghwa was the devil. Well, technically, he was human, but he was definitely not an angel. He was smooth, suave, sexy. He was manipulative, having a way with words like no other, and he was cunning, adjusting his plan to fit whatever situation he was in better. Above all, he was dedicated to his career. You could consider him to be Jason Bourne— a ruthless assassin hired by the powerful and feared by most, except he had all his memories and knew exactly what he was doing, and the number one thing that drove him to do what he did was money. Seonghwa was all about that money.

“Ah, Mr. Park. Come, I’ve been expecting you,” Seonghwa’s client greeted him as he entered the office.

Seonghwa looked around. It was a nice office with a stellar view of the city and high end furniture, bookshelves spread across the walls— the office of a corporate lawyer. Seonghwa started doing the calculations on his head on how much money he could milk out of this client.

“Please, have a seat,” the man gestured to the arm chair across from his desk with a smile on his face.

Seonghwa took his seat, crossing his slender legs and leaning back in the chair to make himself comfortable. “So, Mr. Song,” he said with a quiet voice. “Who’s the target?”

Mr. Song’s smile slightly fell, completely taken aback by Seonghwa’s no-shit attitude. Seonghwa was a man who liked to get straight to the point because time was money, and he liked to get through targets quickly.

“This woman, Y/N,” Mr. Song scattered a bunch of photographs on his desk. Seonghwa picked up one of the photos and looked at it as the lawyer continued, “She caught me burying evidence to manipulate a case, and she threatened me that she was going to do more digging and find all the cases I manipulated. I don’t want or need that to happen. Get rid of her.”

Seonghwa looked at the photograph with a straight face, but his heart couldn’t deny it— he was definitely attracted to you, and just through a piece of paper no less. He slightly worried for his sanity upon seeing you in person, but that was a later problem. Right now, he needed more information.

“Alright. Do you need me to follow her around or—”

“No need. She’s going to be at a party tonight for the opening of a new firm. Do it then. I need her gone as soon as possible.”

“Okay, Mr. Song, that’s going to cost you a bit of money for the lack of proper notice—”

“I don’t give a fuck. I’ll give you all the money you want, just fucking do it.”

A slight smirk appeared on Seonghwa’s face. He gestured for the man to give him a pen and post-it note, scribbled an amount on there, and passed it to the lawyer.

“I’ll have my secretary transfer this to you immediately.”

Mr. Song really wasn’t kidding when he said he’d give Seonghwa all the money he wanted— he wrote down six-figures as a joke, but he wasn’t going to say no to free money. He stood up and held his hand out for the lawyer to shake.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Mr. Song.”

“Great. Along with the transfer, my secretary will send you a copy of the invitation for tonight’s party. I would like you to get there before she does, then rid of her however you please.”

“Y/N! You should leave your firm and come work with me,” a man said cheerily to you upon seeing you.

“No thanks, Wooyoung,” you responded with a pleasant smile. “I love you and Yunho, but my last name plus Jung and Jeong would not be as cute.”

“If it’s the aesthetic that’s holding you back, then we can just get rid of him,” Yunho appeared by your side the second you mentioned his name. “We’ll be Jeong and—”

“Nope! My name comes first. Ladies first, after all.”

You laughed alongside the managing partners from other firms that had been invited to that night’s party— you knew most if not all of the managing partners and got along with most of them pretty well. There was one man in particular, though, that you were not keen on seeing.

“Looking for me, babe?”

You felt a hand slide along the exposed skin on your back, only for that arm to hug your waist and bring you close. Just from the first touch, you knew exactly who it was.

“Look at you in this dress… This backless, tight, sexy, white dress,” he whispered in your ear. “You look just like an angel. I could just eat you up, Y/N.”

“In your dreams, San,” you pushed the man away, your palm in his face.

“Also, what’re you doing in your free time eating angels?” Yunho questioned San.

“Ever heard of Angel Food Cake, dumbass?”

“So I’m a cake now…”

“Oh yeah, totally babes,” San returned right to your side and brushed his nose past your jawline. “Your ass in that dress? Double cheeked up on a—”

“Jongho! Can you get your horny managing partner out of here?” Wooyoung complained loudly as he locked eyes with the man, Jongho.

“San, I swear to God, I’m going to change our firm name from Choi and Choi to just Choi if you don’t leave that poor woman alone,” Jongho said with a heavy sigh.

“You’ll leave the firm?” San asked.

“Shut the fuck up,” Jongho pinched San’s ear and tugged him away. “We’ll be in the corner learning manners if you need us!”

You, Wooyoung, and Yunho all waved goodbye to the bickering firm partners, and your eyes returned to scanning the crowd. Little did you know that there was a certain someone keeping his eye on you, waiting for the perfect chance to introduce himself as you looked around the room to avoid the lawyer you had major issues with.

“Who are you looking for?” Wooyoung asked you, picking up on your silence.

“Oh, uh, no one really…” you answered trying not to divulge any information.

Before Wooyoung could press further, you heard a deep voice say from afar, “Wooyoung! There you are! Oh, and Yunho? Perfect!”

“Hi, Attorney Kang,” you greeted Yeosang with a wide grin when the man arrived at your little group.

“Hello to you too, Y/N,” Yeosang responded with a wink, intentionally using your first name to subtly flirt with you. “Would you mind if I stole these two jackasses from you?”

“Jackasses?!” Wooyoung and Yunho chorused.

“By all means.”

You laughed as you watched both Wooyoung’s face and Yunho’s face go from shocked to betrayed, and before they could say anything to you, Yeosang was already dragging them away with his immense power.

And so, you stood at the standing table alone, looking over your shoulder so you wouldn’t see Attorney Song or his firm partner, Kim Hongjoong, anywhere. In fact, you were so distracted, that you didn’t realize someone had joined you at the table.

“What’s a beautiful woman like you doing alone in a place like this? What if a disgusting senior partner tried to pull moves on you?” the person asked.

“Aren’t you the dis—” you turned to tell the guy off, only to immediately bite your tongue— there was no way in hell you were going to be able to call this man disgusting when he was drop dead gorgeous to the point where he was practically sparkling (making you wonder how you missed his presence in the first place).

“Aren’t I what?” he asked, amusement laced in his question.

“I thought you were someone else…”

“Like who?”

“Well, one of those disgusting lawyers you were talking about… But you definitely are not one of them.”

“No, I am not, angel.”

Along with the nickname, he smiled at you in what you could only describe as genuine and sweet, like he truly wanted to get to know you, and you were drawn to him instantly like a moth to a flame. You held your hand out for him and said, “Y/N.”

Instead of shaking your hand, he completely took you by surprise when he took your hand and left a light kiss on the back of your hand. Your face got hot instantly when he looked up at you with the most incredible sexy and yet soft eyes.

“Seonghwa.”

Not to sound like an absolute sleazebag, but female targets were always so easy for Seonghwa— just give them a few compliments and make them feel like the only girl in the world, and she’s in bed with you in two seconds flat. Also, it helped that he was an attractive man, but regardless, it was that easy for him.

Things with you, however, were different. The compliments Seonghwa fed you were not canned responses that he had at his disposal. They were legitimate. The attraction he felt for you carried from the photographs he saw earlier that day to the real you, and he was truly smitten. Of course, you didn’t know that. All you knew was that this stranger was oddly comfortable and made you want to let down your hair and go wild.

“Tell me the truth, angel,” Seonghwa said to you in a hushed voice as the two of you stood outside the banquet hall against a railing and under the starry sky. “What made you decide on wearing this dress?”

“What, this old thing?” you giggled. “It’s always fun to make the male lawyers ogle, especially the older ones when they’re with their wives.”

“Well, yes, you can do that with this dress, but you can do that with other dresses too. For instance…”

Seonghwa’s fingertips crawled over your exposed waist and to the small of your back, then he trailed a finger up your spine, your back arching and bringing you closer to the railing. You had to stifle a moan the further up your back his finger went.

“You went with a dress that’s shows off the beautiful curves of your waist and is fully revealing in the back,” Seonghwa’s lips were right next to your ear, his hot breath making you flush. He then turned you so that you faced him and continued, “But conservative in the front… When you could’ve found a dress that further enhanced your body. One where the neck line goes from here—”

He traced a line from the middle of your neck down to the space right in between your breasts. “—to here. And one without full length sleeves…”

His fingers tiptoed along your arm from your wrist to your shoulder, his hand then resting on the back of your head. He planted his fingers in the roots of your hair and yanked back roughly, but not painfully, sending tingles down your arms and legs. With his free hand, he hugged your waist and brought you close, your hands automatically holding onto his shoulders. You held your breath as he brought his face close to yours— you automatically shut your eyes thinking he was going to kiss you, but instead he brought his lips back to your ear and said, “However, I’d prefer if you wore nothing. I think other men would too.”

A hint of a smirk lingered on his face as he leaned back to look at your flustered face. You audibly gulped upon seeing the man’s eyes darken. His firm grasp of your hair loosened slightly, but you didn’t want his hand going anywhere. You placed your hand over his and held it while pushing yourself further into him.

“If that’s the case, then I can make that happen for you.”

“Oh yeah?”

Seonghwa held you tighter, his hand rooted in your hair once more. You had one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his shoulder as you gazed into his intense eyes waiting for him to make a move, any move.

“Yeah,” you responded with a nod.

His lips brushed past yours as he responded, “Let’s make it happen then, angel.”

With that, Seonghwa pressed his incredibly posh, ruby lips against yours, electricity running through your entire body. You felt your stomach flip and your pussy heat up the more intensely he kissed you, and fireworks erupted all throughout your body when you felt his hand move from your waist to your breast, only for the man to immediately smile against your lips.

“Ah, I was wondering if you were wearing pasties or not,” he snickered. “You went fully commando tonight, huh?”

“Anything for the dress.”

The second Seonghwa brought you to his place, he tore his suit jacket off, bent you over the kitchen countertop, and pulled the length of your dress up and over your ass, the material bunched up in his fist; and since you had gone commando, the first thing he did was kneel and run his tongue along your folds. Your legs trembled and struggled to keep you upright even with the added assistance of Seonghwa’s firm hands clenching your thighs then ass.

You gasped and looked up to the ceiling as you felt Seonghwa’s insane tongue flick your clit rapidly, waves of pleasure rushing over you one after the other. You were gripping onto the countertop with all of your might, your knuckles just as white as your dress by that point. He continued to suck and slurp your sweet arousal fluid, the noises of him just eating you out enough to send you spiraling.

“Oh, angel…” Seonghwa suddenly pulled away from you when he saw your grip on the countertop (and reality) loosen. “You don’t get to cum yet.”

“W-what do you mean?” you panted and blinked tears out of your eyes while attempting to turn and look at him.

Seonghwa stood up and unbuckled his belt. The belt fell to the ground, and moments later, he had slid his pants and briefs down just enough to release his throbbing, impatient cock. He immediately brought the tip to rub up and down your folds, one hand guiding his dick while the other worked on unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“You only get to cum when I say you can,” Seonghwa said roughly, his low voice turning you on even more— which you didn’t think was even possible at that point.

“Please, Seonghwa… I’m so close…” you whined.

You heard him tear open a condom packet. Seonghwa rolled the condom on, and seconds after teasing you and rubbing the head along your folds, he pushed his way into your dripping pussy, sending your waist into the marble counter. You thought that the impact was going to hurt, but it didn’t, and it was because Seonghwa was holding your waist and bringing you towards him as he thrust into you, making his thrusts twice as strong.

“Ugh, Y/N. You’re so tight— my dick is going to explode,” the man groaned, his lovely voice echoing in your ear.

Then, he changed the angle he was thrusting at. His cock brushed past your G-spot a couple times before stars fill your vision.

“Oh, oh, oh God, Seonghwa! Please, I wanna cum,” you begged him with a sob as you held back your orgasm to the best of your ability. “Let me cum. I want to cum so bad. Please, please, please.”

Hearing you beg and cry for him to let you finish excited him. He bent over and licked your back before whispering, “Go ahead, angel. Cum for me.”

You cried out and gripped the countertop as your legs and torso shook while you came. And, while you came, you clenched so hard that Seonghwa creamed as well, completely filling up the condom he had just rolled on. You heard him swear loudly, the profanity followed by a very sexually arousing groan.

“Fuck, you really did make my dick explode,” Seonghwa let out a light laugh as he pulled out.

While Seonghwa threw the used condom away, you sank to the floor, your legs completely giving out. You were panting and blinking tears out of your eyes as you stared right at the ground, unable to look up in fear of seeing the gorgeous man who just fucked you to heaven and back. Yet, you were forced to look at him when he scooped you off the ground and carried you bridal style into his bedroom.

“Hwa,” you said breathlessly the second you spotted his bed. “Wait, I can’t—”

“Don’t give up on me yet, angel. We’re just getting started.”

Along with his body weight, Seonghwa laid you down on his bed and immediately locked lips with you. You felt like you couldn’t breathe when he shoved his tongue down your throat and groped various erogenous zones on your bare body. You writhed under his touch, your cunt getting wetter and more sensitive.

Seeing you completely wrecked and desperate turned Seonghwa on to the max. He honestly wished he could fuck you to death— what a great ending that would be. Alas, that was not going to happen, so he just had to enjoy you as much as he could before finishing the job. He pushed himself up, rolled on another condom, and quickly thrust into you. Your back immediately arched, and a crying moan immediately left your lips.

“Seonghwa!” you cried as you felt him shoot through you with every thrust. “S-slow down!”

“Sorry, angel,” Seonghwa sighed out erotically. “I can’t stop. You— Ugh— You feel so good.”

You continued to let out loud cries as Seonghwa continued fucking you fast and hard to the point where you could hear the bedsprings squeaks even through the sound of blood rushing to your ears. The intensity of his love-making only increased when he moved your legs so that they were resting on his shoulders, his upper body pressing into you and folding you like a pretzel; yet, you loved it. You wanted him to abuse you further.

“Seong— Angh— Hwa!” you cried as you flung your head back.

“You like that, angel? You like it when I fuck you like this?”

“Ye-es! Oh, God! H-harder!”

“Harder?! You were just telling me to slow down, now you want me to fuck you harder?” Seonghwa asked you with shock, amusement hidden in his words.

“Mmhmm— Hnngh— D-deeper, too!”

Seonghwa wanted to laugh. He did as you asked while suppressing his amusement, sitting up and bringing you with him. He knelt on the bed and had you sitting on his lap to ride him— well, you weren’t riding so much as he was lifting and dropping your ass on his dick repeatedly. You clung to his shoulders and ran your fingers through the hair on the back of his head, gripping and pulling whenever you felt his cock nearly reach your cervix. Your breathy moans echoed in Seonghwa’s ear, turning the man on further. You planted the lightest hickey on his neck, and he fully lost his mind.

“Seonghwa, I’m— I wanna cum…” you whimpered, your lips right next to his ear.

“You wanna cum?”

Seonghwa leaned back, the fire in his eyes blazing, your mind immediately blanking. You could barely keep it together at that point. You nodded fervently while biting your lower lip. In that moment, Seonghwa snapped. He pinned you down on the bed again and thrust at the speed of light, the slaps of his waist hitting your ass filling up the room. His cock finally hit your cervix, and pleasure washed over you. You tensed up and pushed your head into the pillow behind your head, your nails digging into Seonghwa’s arms.

“Oh, fuck! Y/N, I’m cumming!” Seonghwa groaned loudly.

With a final thrust Seonghwa pushed himself deep into you, spurts of thick cum filling the condom. With a deep, pleasureful sigh, Seonghwa dropped his head and caught his breath. Your heart was still racing, and your chest was still moving heavily as you took long breaths when Seonghwa pulled out.

You laid sprawled out on the bed for a solid two minutes. It was at the third minute that you questioned where Seonghwa went in his own home. You sat up in the bed and looked around, still unable to spot the man. You wrapped one of the bedsheets around you and were about to get up and off the bed when Seonghwa returned into the room swiftly, his lower body covered with clothes.

“You decided to get dressed before helping me?” you asked with a scoff.

“I had to.”

Seonghwa’s words were curt, and his tone was sharp, sending chills down your spine. It was as if in the three minutes he was gone his entire personality flipped. He went from being seductive and romantic to… Someone way worse. His eyes were cold and sharp, and there was no longer a smile on his face.

“Seonghwa, what’s going on?” you asked him carefully.

Your eyes went wide when Seonghwa pulled out a gun from behind him and up for you to see it. Your eyes flitted back and forth from the gun to the man who just fucked you.

“What is this?! What the fuck is going on?!” you shrieked.

You tried to move, but your ass and legs were shot to hell by Seonghwa’s cock, leaving you unable to escape him and getting shot to hell by his bullet.

“I was hired to kill you, Y/N,” Seonghwa said softly— he technically wasn’t supposed to tell you why he was going to kill you but, let’s face it. You were going to die, so it’s not like you could snitch to anyone about it.

“Who?!”

“Attorney Song Mingi. He hired me to murder you. So now, I have to.”

“You don’t have to do anything, Seonghwa! He wants me gone? I’ll get out of the country! I just— I don’t understand!”

Seonghwa remained silent. He checked the bullets in the magazine as you stared at him with your jaw dropped.

“So, you fucked me… And now, you’re going to kill me? All of this just happened, and it meant nothing to you?”

Seonghwa quickly clicked the magazine back into place before looking at you and answering, his voice and face devoid of emotion, “It’s not personal, angel. It’s business. I have to do my job.”

“No… Please…”

You thought about shoving him away and mustering up whatever strength you had in your legs to make a run for it, but you knew that he would shoot you dead regardless. You trembled with fear as he approached you.

“Sorry, angel,” he whispered.

Seonghwa cocked the gun and held it right to your temple, the cool metal of the barrel pressing into your skin. You looked up at him, eyes wide, tears streaming down your face. Seonghwa’s resolve flinched— He wanted to fuck the shit out of you and make you look like that because of his cock, not because of his gun. Gritting his teeth, he ignored his impulse and tightened his grip on the gun.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

Seonghwa was wearing a full sleeve turtleneck under his dress shirt the next morning. He self-consciously touched over the fabric the spot on his neck where you left a hickey as he walked into Mr. Song Mingi’s office. He stood by the door and locked eyes with the lawyer.

“Is it done?”

Seonghwa gave him a silent nod.

“Got rid of it?”

“Yes.”

Mr. Song walked around his desk and right up to Seonghwa, offering his hand out for the assassin to shake. Seonghwa shook his hand firmly then immediately let go, trying to make sure the man didn’t see the bandaids on his arms. With a nod, Seonghwa left the office and walked down the hall while taking out his phone, figuring out the location to meet his next client: Mr. Kim.

“Oh, you’re here early, Mr. Park.”

Seonghwa turned around and nearly jumped. Mr. Kim was standing a couple feet behind him with a sober face.

“Mr. Kim?”

“Yes. Come with me.”

The two walked to Mr. Kim’s office, the door immediately closing behind them. The two sat on couches opposite each other, eyes locked on one another.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Kim Hongjoong?”

“I need you to kill Mr. Song Mingi.”

#park seonghwa #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa ateez #seonghwa ateez #ateez seonghwa #park seonghwa smut #seonghwa ateez smut #broatz #Spotify #cromernet

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cameronspecial · 5 months

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Post-Sex Confessions

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: SMUT at the beginning

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Summary: Drew utters words to Y/N during sex that scares her just a little bit.

A/N: This was suggested by the amazing @mellillasstuff after Drew Starkey's character in Hellraiser.

Masterlist

Drew pounds into her from behind, hips meeting her bum in a sound that reverberates around the room. “Do you like that?” he seeks her approval as his pace continues and they both near their climax. Y/N continues to let herself be thrust forward, nodding her head, “I love it.” As Drew releases a thick rope of cum into the condom, his feelings overwhelm him and he just needs to tell the girl he has been dating for two months how he feels. “I love you,” he breathes out, continuing shallow thrusts to ride out their highs. Y/N freezes, “What?” He senses her discomfort and pulls out of her. His heart tears a little when she scrambles away from him with the blanket over her breast.

His words honestly scare her a little bit. Y/N didn’t grow up in the best environment and every promise of love has been ripped away from her. She lost her parents at a young when she was three. The uncle that took her in and said he loved her, just wanted her inheritance. Every friend she had was never really there to stick around and every boyfriend was a liar or a cheater. She had gotten used to going through life by herself and not needing anyone else. The scary part is that she does feel the same way about Drew, but she’s just scared that admitting their love would mean it would go away. She stares at him for a second, trying to piece together what could go wrong. Would he be sent away for work and the distance would be too much for them? Would he realize she is just too much of a damaged person for him? She could just feel the heartbreak waiting to happen.

The silence is driving him mad. He fears he said it too early for her and now, she is going to break up with him for being weird. He wonders if he pulled a Ted Mosby with how early he said it. He also couldn’t have said it in a more vulnerable time when they are both coming down from a high and naked. “Listen, Y/N, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. It’s obviously too early and not the right thing to say during sex. I’m just going to go,” Drew awkwardly spews out. He gets up off of the bed and searches for his clothes, but Y/N’s hand stops him. She grips his wrist a little too tight out, not wanting to let love slip out of her life again.

“I love you too,” she whispers out, barely audible to him. He shakes his head, “Y/N, you don’t have to say it just because I did. I understand if I said it too soon.” She stands up, letting the blanket fall off her and throws herself in his arms, kissing him all over the face. “I really mean it, Drew. Please don’t leave me. I can’t lose someone else,” she implores. “Everyone that I’ve ever loved or has loved me always leaves me and I didn’t want that to happen with you. But if I didn’t say anything to you at all, then I was sure to lose you forever.” Drew gives her a soft look and cups her cheek, “I promise you, I’m not going anywhere. If I have to go away for a shoot, then you can come with me or we can call each other every night. When I say that I love you, I mean it and I’m not going to let you go that easily.” She rests her forehead on his and pecks his lips. “I won’t let you go either. I love you too,” she mumbles to him. He grins down at her, picking her up while moving toward the bed. They lie down together, cuddling until they both fall asleep.

Taglist: @loves0phelia

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fic #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey one shot

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donquixotehomura · 2 months

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Valentine's Day with One Piece Boys

Master List

W.C:3295 so uhhhhh my hand slipped oops... I took some assumptions here and I changed some things that are common about these characters in Fanfic writing, my brain couldn’t come up with a lot for Law I’m sorry about that, Crocodile and Doffy can be read as pre or post becoming Warlords, some might be OOC but IDK I wrote this in about a day lol (my eyes fingers and back hurt I need to correct my posture lol) sorry if I didn't write for your favorites, have fun and lemme know what you think I love feed back It took two and a half fucking hours to put the gifs in, cause the line thingy where you add stuff only showed at the very bottom so I had to keep editing and dragging shit around, I'm sure I'm doing something wrong, also I had to look up all the gifs here even tho I have tons cause for some reason "something goofed" .... end my suffering also I wrote this on word and then brought it here so if formatting gets weird that's why, even tho I spent hours on making sure everything is good shout out to my inspo who also encouraged me to write it @cinnbar-bun

Dracule Mihawk, Roronoa Zoro, Portgas D. Ace, Donquixote Doflamingo, Eustass "Captain" Kid, Charlotte Katakuri, Massacre Soldier Killer, Sir Crocodile, Trafalgar Law.

Dracule Mihawk:

Mihawk and Y/N prefer intimate celebrations for Valentine's Day. They often opt for a quiet evening together at their secluded castle, away from the hustle and bustle of the outside world.

Despite their stoic exteriors, Mihawk and Y/N are surprisingly sentimental when it comes to expressing their feelings. They exchange handwritten letters on Valentine's Day, pouring their hearts out on paper in a way that words spoken aloud cannot convey.

Instead of extravagant gestures, Mihawk and Y/N prefer to exchange gifts that hold sentimental value. Mihawk might gift Y/N a rare book on something she likes, while Y/N might give Mihawk a custom-made piece of simple jewelry like a small bracelet she personally crafted for him.

On Valentine's Day, Mihawk surprises Y/N by offering to cook dinner together. Despite her lack of culinary skills, Y/N appreciates the bonding activity and enjoys spending quality time with him in the kitchen, even if it results in a few culinary mishaps.

After dinner, Mihawk and Y/N venture out into the castle's courtyard to stargaze. They lie side by side on a blanket, Y/N pointing out constellations and sharing stories about their significance, reveling in the peaceful solitude of the night, Mihawk just listens to her with a small fond smile.

Throughout the day, Mihawk and Y/N take time to reflect on their journey together, reminiscing about cherished memories and shared experiences that have strengthened their bond over the years.

As a romantic gesture, Mihawk and Y/N share a midnight dance in the castle's grand ballroom. Lit only by candlelight, they move together in a graceful waltz, lost in the magic of the moment and the timeless beauty of their love. Going To Sleep Cuddling: Mihawk and Y/N will go to sleep in the end of the day holding each other, Y/N would curl up into his arms, burying her face into his chest while he wraps his arms around her his hand going into her hair to play with the soft strands.

As Valentine's Day draws to a close, Mihawk and Y/N exchange a few hushed words as they cuddle, reaffirming their commitment to each other and the promise of a future filled with love, laughter, and endless adventures together.

Roronoa Zoro:

Despite his tough exterior, Zoro secretly spends weeks planning the perfect Valentine's Day surprise for Y/N. He meticulously selects a secluded spot on the island they're docked on, where they can enjoy each other's company away from the hustle and bustle of the crew.

Y/N, appreciative of Zoro's efforts, prepares a special gift for him on Valentine's Day. Knowing his love for swords, she surprises him with a beautifully crafted sheath for one of his blades, personalized with intricate designs that reflect their shared journey together.

Zoro and Y/N spend Valentine's Day evening taking a leisurely stroll along the shores of the island. With the sound of waves lapping against the shore and the moonlight casting a soft glow, they share quiet moments of intimacy, lost in each other's company.

During their stroll, Zoro and Y/N encounter a group of wild creatures roaming the island. With their swords drawn, they effortlessly dispatch the beasts, their synchronized movements a testament to their unwavering bond as swordsmen and lovers.

As the night progresses, Zoro and Y/N build a campfire on the beach, the crackling flames casting flickering shadows around them. They share stories of their past adventures and dreams for the future, their laughter mingling with the sound of the ocean.

Under the starlit sky, Zoro finally opens up to Y/N, expressing his gratitude for her presence in his life. He admits that he's not good at expressing his feelings, but Y/N's unwavering support and love have changed him for the better.

Moved by Zoro's vulnerability, Y/N wraps her arms around him, offering him comfort and reassurance. She assures him that their love is enough, and she wouldn't have their Valentine's Day any other way.

As the night comes to an end, Zoro and Y/N make a promise to each other to continue facing life's challenges together, hand in hand. They vow to cherish every moment and celebrate their love not just on Valentine's Day, but every day.

As they watch the sun rise on the horizon, Zoro leans in to press a gentle kiss to Y/N's lips, sealing their promise with a silent vow of devotion. In that moment, amidst the beauty of the dawn, they find solace in the certainty of their love for each other.

As they return to the ship, hand in hand, Zoro and Y/N share a knowing smile, their hearts full of love and gratitude for each other. Though their Valentine's Day was unconventional and filled with unexpected adventures, it was a testament to the strength of their bond and the depth of their love.

Portgas D. Ace:

Y/N wakes up early on Valentine's Day to prepare a special breakfast for Ace. She arranges heart-shaped pancakes and fruit on a tray, leaving a note with a playful message for him to wake up to. Ace spends weeks leading up to Valentine's Day working on a handmade gift for Y/N. He creates a personalized necklace with a small pendant in the shape of a flame, symbolizing their fiery love and passion.

Y/N organizes a scavenger hunt around the Moby Dick for Ace. Each clue leads him to a different part of the ship, where he discovers small gifts and love notes hidden by Y/N.

Ace surprises Y/N with a romantic beach picnic at a secluded cove. They enjoy a delicious meal together as they watch the sunset, the sound of the waves providing a serene backdrop to their intimate celebration.

As the night falls, Ace and Y/N gather with their friends for a bonfire on the beach. They roast marshmallows, share stories, and cuddle close under a blanket, basking in the warmth of their love and the crackling fire.

Y/N sets up a telescope on the deck of the Moby Dick, and she and Ace spend the evening stargazing together. They point out constellations, make wishes on shooting stars, and share dreams for their future, Y/N certainly tries to find constellations that match Ace’s freckles. Ace surprises Y/N with a makeshift dance floor on the deck of the ship. He puts on her favorite song, and they dance together under the moonlight, lost in each other's arms.

Y/N leaves little love notes for Ace to find throughout the day. Each note expresses her affection and gratitude for having him in her life, reminding him of the depth of her love.

Ace and Y/N spend the afternoon cooking a special Valentine's Day dinner together in the kitchen. They laugh, tease each other, and steal kisses amidst the preparation, enjoying the simple pleasure of being together. (Marco is on standby with a fire extinguisher)

As the day comes to a close, Ace and Y/N exchange heartfelt declarations of love. They express their gratitude for each other, promising to cherish and support one another for all the days to come, both of them yelling it at the top of their lungs of the railing of the ship and the crew is so done with them lol

Donquixote Doflamingo:

Doflamingo, despite his intimidating persona, secretly enjoys the sentimentality of Valentine's Day. He's known for surprising Y/N with extravagant gifts, ranging from rare treasures he's acquired during their travels to personalized items he's commissioned just for her. Y/N, in turn, cherishes each gift as a symbol of Doflamingo's affection, even if she's not one for material possessions. On Valentine's Day, Doflamingo arranges a private, candlelit dinner on the deck of their ship or a secluded spot on the island they're currently exploring. He spares no expense in ensuring the evening is perfect, with gourmet cuisine prepared by their crew's skilled chefs. Y/N appreciates the effort he puts into creating these intimate moments and enjoys the opportunity to spend quality time together away from the chaos of pirate life.

Instead of focusing solely on lavish gifts and grand gestures, Doflamingo and Y/N often reminisce about their shared adventures and memorable moments throughout the years. They spend Valentine's Day reflecting on the challenges they've overcome together, the laughter they've shared, the tears they’ve shed and the unbreakable bond that has formed between them.

Despite their often intense and tumultuous journey as pirates, Doflamingo and Y/N also value quiet moments of affection. They may spend Valentine's Day simply enjoying each other's company, whether it's lounging on the deck, stargazing, or taking a leisurely stroll on the beach hand in hand. It's in these peaceful moments that they feel most connected.

Doflamingo and Y/N have a deep understanding of each other, and Valentine's Day serves as a reminder of the unspoken bond they share. They may not always verbalize their feelings, but their actions speak volumes. Whether it's a knowing glance, a comforting touch, or a gentle smile exchanged between them, they both know that their love is unwavering.

Eustass "Captain" Kid:

Despite her tough exterior, Y/N secretly enjoys the romantic gestures she receives on Valentine's Day. Kid, though he may not admit it openly, takes great pleasure in surprising Y/N with small gifts and tokens of affection, leaving them anonymously for her to find. Kid's idea of a Valentine's Day gift may not be traditional, but it's always heartfelt. He might present Y/N with a custom-made weapon, intricately designed and tailored to her unique fighting style, or a rare treasure he stumbled upon during their travels, symbolizing the adventures they've shared together.

Y/N, with her artistic flair, expresses her love for Kid through her creations. She might spend weeks crafting a personalized piece of jewelry for him, incorporating elements of his Jolly Roger or symbols that hold significance to their relationship, showcasing her devotion in a tangible form.

Amidst the chaos of their pirate life, Y/N and Kid cherish the quiet moments they steal away together on Valentine's Day. They might escape to a secluded spot-on deck, watching the stars and sharing stories, finding solace in each other's company amidst the vastness of the sea.

For Y/N and Kid, Valentine's Day is not just about romantic gestures, but also about embarking on new adventures together. They might set sail to explore uncharted islands, face formidable foes, or discover hidden treasures, strengthening their bond through shared experiences and thrilling escapades.

Despite their differences, Y/N and Kid's relationship is built on mutual respect and understanding. They may not always see eye to eye, but they know how to support and uplift each other, especially on Valentine's Day, when they take the time to appreciate the unique qualities that make their bond so special.

Y/N and Kid's Valentine's Day celebrations may not be conventional, but they're uniquely theirs. They might indulge in a feast of their favorite foods, engage in friendly competitions and challenges, or simply enjoy each other's presence, knowing that their love transcends traditional expectations.

As they spend Valentine's Day together, Y/N and Kid exchange promises for the future. They may vow to stand by each other through thick and thin, to continue exploring the world and facing its challenges together, and to cherish the love they share, knowing that their bond is unbreakable.

Charlotte Katakuri:

Despite their tough exteriors, Y/N and Katakuri secretly enjoy showering each other with romantic gestures on Valentine's Day. Y/N surprises Katakuri with handcrafted doughnuts with many flavours, each one meticulously made with love and care. In return, Katakuri presents Y/N with a beautifully crafted box of her favorite sweets, a testament to his thoughtfulness and affection. On Valentine's evening, Y/N and Katakuri escape the chaos of Totto Land for a private dinner date on a secluded beach. They indulge in a feast of their favorite dishes, sharing laughter and intimate conversation under the twinkling stars. As the night deepens, they dance together in the moonlight, their hearts beating in perfect harmony.

In the days leading up to Valentine's Day, Y/N and Katakuri exchange heartfelt love letters, expressing their deepest emotions and gratitude for each other. Y/N's letters are filled with poetic prose and declarations of undying love, while Katakuri's letters are eloquent and sincere, revealing the depths of his affection for Y/N.

As a special Valentine's Day surprise, Katakuri whisks Y/N away on a romantic getaway to a secluded island paradise. They spend their days exploring pristine beaches, indulging in couples' massages, and savoring gourmet meals prepared by a private chef. It's a blissful escape from their duties and responsibilities, allowing them to focus solely on each other.

On Valentine's Day, Y/N and Katakuri reminisce about their favorite moments together, flipping through photo albums filled with snapshots of their adventures. They laugh at candid shots of themselves and smile fondly at pictures of special milestones they've shared. It's a heartwarming reminder of the bond they've built and the memories they've created together, a few of them are pictures taken by Y/N of Katakuri throughout the day, in some of them his scarf is hiding a smile or a blush a reason as to why she took the picture (yes she walks around with a Visual Den Den Mushi.. At least that’s what I think the picture taking ones are called) Y/N has been joining Katakuri during his Meriendas for years now and same as rumors spread about him meditating and talking to gods of battle during them rumors spread about her as well (I read a fic about this before where Y/N was considered his oracle and it’s an amazing one I’m trying to find it again) what they don’t know is that these two are being very sappy idiots, cuddling sharing kisses and laughs and stealing each other's sweets, especially on this day, the others just think that they’re doing some sort of ritual about devotion to Gods of Battle only lol.

As the night falls on Valentine's Day, Y/N and Katakuri retreat to a secluded hilltop, where they lay beneath a blanket of stars, hand in hand. They share stories of their hopes and dreams, tracing constellations with their fingers and basking in the quiet beauty of the night sky. It's a moment of perfect serenity, a reminder of the infinite possibilities that lie ahead for their love.

Massacre Soldier Killer:

Despite their tough exteriors, Killer and Y/N secretly enjoy surprising each other with small romantic gestures on Valentine's Day. Y/N might leave a heartfelt note tucked into Killer's pocket, while Killer might craft a makeshift bouquet of flowers from materials he finds on their travels. Valentine's Day is a rare opportunity for Killer and Y/N to spend some quality time together away from the chaos of pirate life. They might steal away to a secluded spot on the ship or find a quiet beach where they can enjoy each other's company without interruptions.

Killer and Y/N reminisce about their favorite moments together, cherishing the memories they've created during their time as partners in crime. They might exchange stories about their most memorable adventures or laugh about the mishaps they've encountered along the way.

Despite their limited resources as pirates, Killer and Y/N find creative ways to exchange gifts on Valentine's Day. Y/N might fashion a piece of jewelry from shells she finds on the beach, while Killer might carve a wooden trinket with his expert craftsmanship.

Killer surprises Y/N with a romantic candlelit dinner, showcasing his culinary skills with a delicious meal cooked from scratch. Y/N, in turn, appreciates the effort and thoughtfulness behind the gesture, and they enjoy a quiet evening together under the stars. While they may not always express their emotions openly, Killer and Y/N show their love and affection for each other in subtle ways. A gentle touch, a lingering glance, or a reassuring smile speaks volumes in the language of their relationship.

Valentine's Day serves as a reminder of the unbreakable bond between Killer and Y/N. They reaffirm their commitment to each other, promising to stand by each other's side through thick and thin, no matter what challenges may come their way.

As they bask in the warmth of each other's love on Valentine's Day, Killer and Y/N discuss their hopes and dreams for the future. They envision a life together filled with adventure, laughter, and unwavering support, knowing that as long as they have each other, anything is possible.

Overall, Valentine's Day is a special occasion for Killer and Y/N to celebrate their love and appreciation for each other, strengthening the bond that binds them together as partners in both love and piracy.

Sir Crocodile:

Crocodile and Y/N aren't ones for grand gestures, so their Valentine's Day celebration tends to be understated. They prefer spending quality time together rather than getting caught up in the commercial aspects of the holiday. Crocodile surprises Y/N by preparing a simple but delicious meal for them to share. Despite his gruff exterior, Crocodile has a surprisingly deft hand in the kitchen, and Y/N is touched by the effort he puts into making the evening special.

Instead of extravagant gifts, Crocodile and Y/N exchange meaningful tokens of their affection. Y/N gives Crocodile a handmade leather-bound journal, knowing how much he values knowledge and planning. In return, Crocodile presents Y/N with a rare seashell he found during one of their adventures, a symbol of their shared experiences.

After dinner, Crocodile and Y/N enjoy a quiet evening together, lounging on the deck of their ship and gazing up at the stars. They talk about their hopes and dreams for the future, reveling in the simplicity of each other's company.

Despite their tough exteriors, Crocodile and Y/N share a passion for Planning and Conquest. They spend the evening poring over maps and planning their next expedition, excited about the possibilities that lie ahead. While they may not be overly demonstrative, Crocodile and Y/N show their love for each other in small, subtle ways. A gentle touch, a knowing glance, or a shared smile speaks volumes about the depth of their bond. As the night draws to a close, Crocodile and Y/N express their gratitude for each other, acknowledging the strength and support they provide in each other's lives. They may not say "I love you" in so many words, but their actions speak louder than any declaration of affection ever could.

Trafalgar Law:

Y/N is bubbling with excitement as Valentine's Day approaches, eager to celebrate the occasion with Law despite his usual reservations about the holiday. She takes the lead in planning the day, organizing a romantic dinner aboard the Polar Tang complete with candles, rose petals, and Law's favorite dishes. Law, although initially hesitant about the festivities, appreciates Y/N's enthusiasm and decides to go along with her plans, wanting to make her happy. He surprises Y/N with small but meaningful gifts throughout the day, such as a locket containing a picture of the two of them together or a handwritten note expressing his love and gratitude. Y/N showers Law with affection, peppering him with kisses and hugs as they spend quality time together, enjoying each other's company in the privacy of their quarters. They share stories and reminisce about their favorite memories together, laughing and smiling as they bask in the warmth of their love. Law surprises Y/N with a heartfelt gesture, such as letting her cuddle with him instead of working or giving her a massage to help her relax and unwind. They exchange promises of love and commitment, reaffirming their bond and promising to stand by each other through thick and thin. As the day comes to a close, Law and Y/N cuddle up together under a blanket, content in each other's arms and grateful for the love they share.

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fuck-customers · 4 months

Note

Kind of a fuck customers but also a satisfying story at the same time.

My role in the call center I work in involves taking specifically corporate calls, which means I spend all day talking to “business professionals” (and I use that term loosely) including CEOs. As you can imagine, over 90% of these CEOs are the scum of the earth and the most entitled assfaces on the planet.

A week or so ago, I took a call and went through my usual routine of greeting the cardholder and then began going over verification questions. Since we’re A.) a bank and B.) a bank that handles corporate and government credit cards, we take security seriously and require a caller to be able to verify 3 pieces of information based on what the person responsible for their credit cards put on the account. If they don’t pass, we refer them to their company to get the right details.

So as I’m doing this, the guy on the phone is getting increasingly irritated as he keeps getting the security questions wrong. I’m calm and professional the entire time but firm. Eventually I run out of things to verify with him and tell him that we won’t be able to assist and that he needs to contact his administrator. This is apparently where I went wrong.

“LADY I AM THE ADMINISTRATOR!!” He screeches. Ok, great. I look him up and that’s true but there’s a second admin listed, so I ask him to check in with him. He then yells “THERE IS NO OTHER ADMIN! I’M THE CEO OF THIS COMPANY FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!!”

I apologize and tell him while that may be true, he still got his security questions wrong and needs to reach out to his account coordinator then. This man then proceeds to scream at me for the next minute or so saying how we’re an awful bank, how he’s had problems with us for years, blah blah and how we have the worst customer service ever. Keep in mind, I’ve been nice and empathetic this entire time but also I’m not gonna lose my fucking job just because a guy in a suit doesn’t know his shit. I give him the email to his account coordinator and stress again that he needs to talk to them. Then this exchange happens:

Him: “So let me get this straight. You are saying you are REFUSING and UNWILLING to help me, right?

Me: “No, actually I’d love to help you, however we have these security procedures in place for yours and your company’s protection and cannot make exceptions for anyone.”

Him: “This is fucking UNBELIEVABLE! I’ve HAD IT with this bank!!”

Me: “Ok, I’m sorry to hear that. Anything else I can do for you before we disconnect?”

Him: “WHAT IS YOUR NAME? I NEED YOUR NAME. NOW.”

Me: *gives my first name and spells it for him even though it’s a very basic 4 letter name because I’m a bitch*

Him: YOUR LAST NAME.

Me: “We don’t give out anything but our first name for the safety of our employees.”

Him: *insert that condescending, pissed off chuckle middle aged men do when they’re mad here* “Well I’ll tell you what (My Name), when I close this account and pull my MILLIONS OF DOLLARS out of (bank name) and they ask me why, I’ll make sure to tell them that it’s (My Name)’s fault. And I will see to it that you won’t be able to get another job outside of the minimum wage fast food job or whatever you had before this. How does that sound?”

Me: “Sounds great. Now seeing as how this conversation is no longer productive or professional and threats are being made, I’ll be terminating the call, have a nice day.”

Him: “DO NOT HANG UP O-“

Me: *click*

And that’s how making rich, powerful men rage-cry became my new favorite hobby. Thankfully, I haven’t gotten any feedback on that call; not that I would, seeing as how I did my job exactly how I was supposed to. Anyways I hope I’m his 13th reason. ❤️

Posted by admin Rodney.

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bloodynereid · 2 months

Text

Navy Blue Ink

part 2

pairing: major john 'bucky' egan x fem! reader

tw: some angst, mentions of death, war, swearing, mentions of alcohol, the usual stuff idk it's sort of fluffy but also not really, both think it's unrequited love/platonic love (they're dumbasses (affectionate)), dogs??

description: when john actually sets it up right.

a/n: yeah idk something possessed me to write this, i was lying in my bathtub this morning and was like yup need to write this ASAP. apologies if john is sort of ooc, i haven't written for him before and i haven't written in a while so yeah! also i have so many requests atm but i decided to ignore all of those to write this so enjoy me procrastinating things i actually have to do. OH and obv this is about the show's characters not the real people. enjoy <3

You sat at your little desk at the edge of your flat, contemplating how to start the letter… again. Pieces of balled up paper lay littered around you. It was almost comedic how much time you had spent trying to write a simple little letter. But it wasn’t that simple was it?

You were writing to your childhood best friend, someone you had basically been in love with your entire life. Major John Egan, Bucky, went off to fight and you were left with a large gaping hole in your life.

Sure, it was horrible when you saw him kissing, dancing and singing to other girls… probably doing more than that. But he always came back to you.

One guarantee that war had was that men don’t always come back.

So you had put off writing letters to him ever since he swung by your house to drop off the address for his next station all that time ago. You were a different person now, you had a job, a flat and a husky you had decided to name Ghost. You were also sadder, war had a way of taking a toll on everyone it touched.

But this morning you had decided not to put it off any longer. The decision came to fruition as you were lying in the bathtub, trying to soak away your sorrows. That was the moment when you said fuck it, got out of the bathtub, grabbed a robe and sat down at your desk.

You took a deep breath and dipped your pen into the navy blue ink pot. Your hand shook slightly as the pen met paper and words started to flow.

A few hours later, you woke up suddenly from a nap and instantly ran over to your desk and quickly scribbled a short note, putting a picture into an envelope and running to post the second letter before it was too late.

John felt a wave of sadness and defeat wash over him when nothing came for him in the mail call. It was stupid. He urged the emotion away and ran a hand through his hair. Be a man. You don’t need a fucking letter.

He watched as Buck leaned against one of the chests of drawers with a stupid smile on his face. Envy seeped through his pores. He wanted that. Whatever Bucky was feeling when he read his letter from Marge.

Fuck this. John needed a glass of strong whiskey right the fuck now. His throat almost ached for that sweet burn.

“Major! I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize these two were for you Bucky.” John’s mouth fell open as he stood up and quickly ambled over to see that there were in fact two letters addressed to him.

“Thanks.”

“Of course, Major.” John delicately took the papers and ignored Buck’s look of confusion as he gingerly cradled the letters to his chest and sat back down on the uncomfortable wooden chair.

There was no mistake that these were for him. Major John Egan was written in careful and delicate cursive, although on one of the letters the name looked more rushed than on the other.

He carefully tore open the first letter, the smell of woodsy perfume suddenly permeated his senses. A perfume he knew well. Y/N.

John could hardly believe it. She actually wrote to him. Nothing for months and then this. He pulled out the cream paper and carefully unfolded it.

Dear Bucky,

Twentieth time is the charm I guess. How are you? I have no idea how you’re supposed to write these things, maybe that’s why it took me so long to write to you.

God, I miss you John. I know that’s so stupid to say but I miss my best friend. I am truly sorry that I didn’t send you a letter sooner. I’m sure you’re missing me terribly as well and I have just been a cruel human being by not sending you letters.

I guess I didn’t send anything because I didn’t know what to say. I finally decided to just write a letter this morning while in the bathtub. No, don’t you dare smirk John it wasn’t like that. My ma might just murder me for being so unladylike but I can’t bring myself to start writing yet another letter that will just end up crumpled on my floor so you are getting the truth and nothing but the truth, Major. So yes I concede I was thinking about you in the bathtub.

Anyways, how's Buck? I remember you telling me about him during your visit so I thought I might mention it. You two seemed to be getting close and I’m glad you have someone out there to support you when I can’t. He can’t take the title of best friend though, that’s reserved for me!

What else? Well… I got a job and a dog! And I moved out. I now live in this tiny little flat (it’s very charming so don’t start scrunching your face up like you always do) and drink endless amounts of coffee. You got me hooked. What can I say?

I don’t know what else to say other than stay safe. I don’t think I could bear it if you died, Bucky. Maybe you already have and I just don’t know, so I’m hoping beyond hope that this letter reaches you. Remember that I love you always, you idiotic man.

Your best friend obviously,

Y/N L/N

John felt his eyes starting to sting. He had been so preoccupied with the war that he had also forgotten to write to her. The girl who had stolen his heart at age six when she threw mud at him when they were playing in the creek. His little angel who had just brought some light back into his life.

A smile twitched on his face, she was still his girl. And she said she loved him! Probably not the way he loved her but still, he would take anything she was willing to give him.

“Bucky?” The rasp of Buck’s voice shook him out of his reverie and he looked up to see his friend looking at him with a question in his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Who’s the letter from?”

“None of your business, Buck.” John says with an easy smirk falling on his face, a little spark in his soul seemed to reignite, he missed you and now at least he knew you missed him too.

“Jesus, come on. Who the hell is writing to you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“John…”

“It’s from Y/N.” Buck’s eyebrows raised in response and John outright laughed at how surprised he looked. “She asked how you are.”

“Y/N? Is she the one-”

“Yes, now shut up. I still have another letter to read.” Buck laughed and raised his arms in defense before turning back to his own letter. He was glad his best friend had that sparkle back in his eyes, it had been missing for too damn long.

John placed the letter back into the envelope and grabbed the hastily addressed one. He was surprised to see that there were two things in this one. Pulling out the letter he quickly read the words before his jaw dropped.

Dear Bucky,

I completely forgot to attach a picture to the last letter, since I’m assuming you want to know what I look like now.

Anyways here is a picture of me and Ghost, the love of my life.

- Y/N

John carefully tipped the letter to the side and out fell a picture into his outstretched hand. And it was you, but also not you. You looked so much older and there was a hint of melancholy in your eyes but there was still that distinct bright smile on your face. Your arms were encased around a large husky with eyes that were almost as blue as Buck’s.

It was wrong but he felt a pang of jealousy. God he wished he was in that dog’s place.

yeah... i'm obsessed with all the men in mota. i think i have a problem

part 2

#masters of the air #john egan #john bucky egan #john egan x reader #john bucky egan x reader #mota #mota fanfic #mota spoilers #buck cleven #gale cleven #harry crosby #bucky egan #masters of the air fic #masters of the air x reader #maria writes

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itsagoodluckkiss · 3 months

Text

I Know The End

Pairings: Roronoa Zoro x f!reader, platonic strawhats x f!reader

Summary: This is based on one of my favorite songs, I Know The End by Phoebe Bridgers, and I take the meaning of this song as a "when you're at the bottom, the only way is up" kind of song. Reader is a friend of Nami, she has air powers and joins the Strawhats after they help her save her town.

Warnings: Mild East Blue spoilers, kinda OC Zoro, typical OP violence, otherwise pure fluff, no use of Y/N

WC: 3.7κ

A/N: Oi, hello there! This is my first One Piece fanfic, took me a bit more than I expected but I did it! I have another one for my first request on the way, but since this is my first, I had to post one about my fave! Also, I'm sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. Anyways, hope you enjoy it, and if you do, pretty please leave a comment! Requests are open! ❤️

“I’m not gonna go down with my hometown in a tornado, I’m gonna chase it. I gotta go now, I know. Driving out into the sun, let the ultraviolet cover me up. Went looking for a creation myth, ended up with a pair of cracked lips… A slaughterhouse, an outlet mall, slot machines, fear of God… Big bolt of lightning hanging low. Over the coast everyone’s convinced it’s a government drone or an alien spaceship.”

Feeling out of place is something you get used to when living in this part of the East Blue and seek adventure; it is called the weakest sea for some reason after all. Even if she loved her living place, she disliked the fact that people mostly minded their own business without blinking an eye to the suffering and corruption around them. She couldn’t entirely blame them; it wasn’t an easy thing caring about neighboring regions when your own was constantly hit by natural disasters, causing deaths and lifetime labors destroyed.

She had just learned that the Conomi Islands had been freed by Arlong’s cruel rule after eight whole years. She wondered how Nami was. They had met a couple of years ago when she caught her rummaging her family’s vault and helped her through it without getting her caught. She hid her in her room while the Navy was looking for the thief. She didn’t need the money and it was obvious to her that Nami did. Nami was her first real friend. The week they spent together, drinking and getting to know each other, talking about their backstories, their wants and plans for the future was the best in her life. She had promised that after she’d buy her village back and free it, she’d come to see her again. She hadn’t heard from Nami since.

They said it was because of the Marines the islands were liberated. She could never believe that for one second. Her curious personality always managed to get her into the Navy’s business, making her family’s influence and prestige on the island take a hit every time she got into trouble with them. She couldn’t help that all this talk from the Marines about justice and keeping the peace made her want to throw up on their shiny uniforms. She knew it was all an act for them and their allies to maintain power. How could Marines talk about values when regions and people were enslaved and the Navy turned a blind eye instead of helping, just for power and some berries?

Her dream was to end all that fake order and bring actual freedom to those in need; to become a freedom fighter and help people. She needed the right opportunity but also, she had to take advantage of every situation if she wanted to get away from that place someday and seek what she so wholeheartedly craved. So she learned her family’s secrets and strengths. It’s not every day you see generations of people knowing how to yield the air around them, giving them a bunch of abilities like flying or sucking the air out of their enemies’ lungs or causing hurricanes of every size. She knew when to play nice and be obedient so that her parents would teach her their ways, thinking that she would grow out of her rebellious phase, would learn about and protect her family’s rule. It’s not an easy task for them to cover up the Navy’s dirt on the island after all.

The more she mastered her power, the more she could see that something was wrong with her family. She had started to notice the patterns. Every time the island was hit by a storm or a natural disaster, they were never home. At first, it would make sense that they’d go and help their people. Then, after the storms, her island’s Navy unit and its captain started collecting “taxes” for rebuilding the infrastructures. Thing was, the taxes would constantly go up, bringing inhabitants to their knees. Meanwhile, her family didn’t seem affected at all. They would just roam the island, giving advices and pacifying the angry voices that protested the Navy. So, she decided, in the next hurricane, she would learn her parents and older siblings’ sketchy business. She had to know what was the cause of all this and what she could do to change it.

Meeting new people travelling between islands and seas was a fascinating thing. She loved hearing stories about their adventures, about different places and bigger dangers, fights between pirates and marines or about the golden age of piracy. About the Grand Line, the different weather conditions in each island, the devil fruits and the abilities they gave their users. She would always wander through the port, looking for more myths coming to life by the sailors that docked their ships on her island for supplies.

When she spotted a beautiful pirate caravel, with a sheep figurehead in its bow and its Jolly Roger with a straw hat, docked in their port, she felt a strange wave of excitement and peace. She couldn’t explain it but that beautiful ship radiated so much love and care, like it had a soul of its own and a smile that made everyone feel like home if they stepped into it. She stood there, admiring it from afar, when she felt someone standing next to her.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she? Her name is Merry! She’s my ship.”

She turned to look at the stranger. A boy around the same age as hers, with a small scar under his right eye and a straw hat on his head, and that made her assume this was the captain. He had a smile so vibrant, it reminded her of the sun. His energy was so welcoming, she felt like she could be friends with him on a whim.

“Hello. She is indeed a sight to behold.”

She gave him a warm smile back, raising her hand to introduce herself.

“That’s a pretty name. I’m Luffy, and I’m gonna be King Of The Pirates!”

She couldn’t help but laugh, but it had no malice. She loved dreamers, being one herself, and even if she met that boy only a couple of minutes ago, she could see he would give everyone in the world a run for their money. A gust of wind blew, taking his hat away, and before he could react, she brought it back to him through the air around her. She placed it on his head and gave him a toothy grin.

“There! You can’t be King Of The Pirates without your trademark, right?”

“THANK YOU! YOU’VE GOT AIR POWERS? THAT’S SO COOL! YOU SHOULD JOIN OUR CREW!”

She was dumbfounded by his enthusiasm and his abrupt proposal. Never had she met anyone like him, so thrilled by her presence and her little air tricks. Before she could reply, she heard footsteps and another male voice behind her.

“Oi Luffy, stop scaring people by asking them to join us like that, will you?”

She turned to look at the deeper voice, and for a moment it felt like lighting coursing through her veins. Taller and more muscular than the boy next to her, he looked a bit older than them both, with short green hair and eyes gray as steel, three golden earrings that gleamed in the sunlight graced his left ear. He had a sharp gaze that radiated a strong and confident energy, one that lacked fear or hesitation. She never believed in love at first sight, but this felt as close as she could imagine it would feel. The man approached them and introduced himself to her.

“Roronoa Zoro? As in ‘Pirate Hunter’ Zoro? In a pirate crew?”

Of course she had heard of his reputation. Who didn’t know the infamous bounty hunter swordsman in the East Blue? He chuckled at her surprise.

“Yeah, well, long story short, this guy here has an effect of convincing people easily.”

“There you are, you idiots! We’ve been looking for you everywhere! We’re not here for me to babysit you not getting lost, we’re here to find my-”

She heard a familiar female shriek before she felt soft arms around her, squeezing her tight, and she immediately knew who it was. She could never forget her best friend’s hugs. She returned the hug as she screamed Nami’s name, before they both started to cry tears of joy. Her hand grabbed her upper arm, and she felt deep scars where her Arlong tattoo should be but was replaced by another, prettier one.

“I was so worried about you! I learned what happened to your village and I didn’t know what to think!”

“You should have known I’d be okay, you know I always pull through. Although, these guys were the greatest help I could get. They are the reason I’m freed and I wanted to keep my promise to you.”

She looked at the boys around them with gratitude, two more joining them, a blond boy wearing a suit, who looked like he would burst into flames from the heart eyes on his face and another one with wavy hair, a long nose and mischief in his eyes.

“I can’t thank you enough for helping my friend. She means the world to me!”

“Whoa, Nami’s your friend? Now you should definitely join our crew! We’ve heard so much about you, the only reason we stopped here before Loguetown was to find you!” Luffy said with enthusiasm.

“Yes, it’s not every day you hear someone born into money giving them away without question, hiding the thief in addition and fighting their way to get them out safely. You must be quite the character.” Zoro smirked at her.

“And to add to that, you’re also a sight to behold, my lady!” the blond boy said as he kissed her hand and introduced himself as Sanji, making her laugh at his advances.

“We’ve heard you have a great mind for plans too. Could use a strategist in this group of idiots that run into danger head on. I always device a plan to beat my enemies. I’m Usopp by the way.”

She was dumbfounded to say the least, taking them all and their kind words in. She met these guys a few moments ago, yet never had she felt such a feeling of being so welcomed by the people around her, she was so used to being ignored that this interaction almost made her sob. She kissed Nami’s cheek before letting her go.

“I… thank you guys… you’re all so sweet… but I don’t think I’m that good-”

“Bullshit, you’ll be the smartest person besides me in this crew. Come on now, I know how much you long to get the hell out of this place, they’ve never appreciated you anyways, and I don’t think anything changed since we met.” Nami proclaimed, smiling at her.

“No… not much anyway. I just learned how to use my powers now… Look, I don’t know what to think of this, I have-”

A loud rumble shook the earth below them. She felt the temperature drop rapidly and she knew what was coming. Now was her chance to find out the truth she looked for, the one that could possibly make her decide to cut ties with her family if her speculations were true. She turned to the Strawhats, as they called themselves, and smiled brightly.

“Thank you guys. But I have to run now. There are rooms for rent down this road, run and cover yourselves and don’t come out before the storm passes. Maybe I’ll see you around after that.”

As they started to protest, she flew off to the source of the hurricane she could see coming from afar.

And sure enough, the feeling of throwing up from disgust and despair overwhelmed her when she arrived at the source. She saw her family controlling the hurricanes and lightings that hit her island, and the Navy captain, who she knew was a devil fruit user, was shaking the ground, causing the earthquake, while his Unit watched from the sidewalks. Bodies were scattered around damaged buildings, scenery of pure horror. Before she could react to stop this, she felt boulders hitting her, splitting her lips and bruising her body, blood running down her jaw as she fell down.

Logically, everything fell into place. Emotionally, nothing made sense. She couldn’t comprehend how she could have been raised by such cruel people. Her eyes welled up with tears, but not from the pain she felt on her body, but from the sight in front of her, as her parents approached her, proclaiming she was not mature enough to understand their family’s best interest and how she has always been such a disappointment, never listening, never following orders, an annoying, meddling child.

“Do whatever you want; we can’t do anything about her anymore.” Her parents proclaimed to the navy captain as he too approached.

“You’ve always been a pain in the ass and I can finally get rid of you.” The captain proclaimed as he unsheathed his sword.

She closed her eyes but she never felt the blade on her skin. The captain’s scream echoed as his arm got cut off from the shoulder, his sword hitting the ground.

“Swords are not toys, captain. You don’t get to play with them.”

Her head spin to the male voice behind her and her eyes widen as she saw the five pirates ready to fight. Zoro was the closest to her, having drawn one of his swords that was now covered in blood, leaving a clean cut on the marine’s shoulder. Usopp was standing a few feet behind, a slingshot in his hand as he shoot at the navy soldiers, the collision ended in blasts and the soldiers started to run away. Nami was holding a strange, long, steel pole that seemed by its use to control the weather around them with air bubbles.

“You’re not hurting a lady on my watch.” Sanji proclaimed before his leg collided with the bleeding captain’s face, kicking him to the ground.

“He was already done, curlybrows.”

“Shut your mouth, marimo!”

They were bickering as if they all were not in a life or death situation. The most shocking thing was Luffy, who was stretching his body as he was wielding what seemed to be the bark of a tree around, taking soldiers and her family with it.

“Nami said you had problems with your family. You seemed worried. So we followed you.” He said with a toothy grin.

Zoro grabbed her hand and raised her from the ground.

“You know how to fight I assume?”

“Yes I do.”

“Well then, let’s give them hell, pretty girl.”

Either way, we’re not alone. I’ll find a new place to be from. A haunted house with a picket fence, to float around and ghost my friends. I’m not afraid to disappear. The billboard said "The End Is Near". I turned around, there was nothing there. Yeah, I guess the end is here.”

And sure enough, she couldn’t believe the six of them managed to stop the destruction while fighting the whole navy unit and her family combined, who were now running away from the angry crowd that had assembled when the hurricanes stopped and saw the whole thing happening.

“You guys… I can’t thank you enough-”

“Pffff, that was nothing, it was funny being blown away, felt like flying hehe.” Luffy laughed as he grabbed her in a hug. “You’re Nami’s friend, so you are our friend too!”

She had started crying by now as she hugged Luffy back, the feelings she felt in that moment couldn’t be described.

“I think… I think I’ll join you guys!”

A week had passed since her family fled off the island that was now filled with marines who listed the damages and arrested their own dirty kind. They had made a futile attempt to take the strawhats in, and before they would even start a fight, the people of the island wreaked havoc, not even letting them close to their saviors. She took the crew in the house that was now hers.

She helped Nami move all the gold from the house onto their ship. She gave Usopp advices for his trinkets and how they would fly through the air easier. She cooked with Sanji and then would catalog the storages that would be taken with them to their journey, with Luffy receiving several kicks from the cook because he tried to eat everything. She had never had so much fun in her life as she had with them. Her favorite moments came at night, usually spent drinking with Zoro. They had talked about their childhoods, he had told her about his family how died when he was a toddler, his promise to his childhood friend who died way before her time, how he acquired that big scar across his chest. The more she got to know him, the more connected she felt to him, like a final puzzle piece falling right in to place.

On their last night, everyone was fast asleep, getting the rest they’d need since they would cross the entrance to the Grand Line the next day. But her anticipation wouldn’t let her sleep. After tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, she got off her bed and walked around the house, taking it in one last time. She had decided to gift it to a large family whose home got destroyed. It was a fact that she didn’t want anything to do with that place anymore. Tomorrow morning her life would change forever. Her mind leading her nowhere in particular, she walked to her terrace. The wind, soft and gentle, rustled through the leaves of the trees, creating a soothing melody, and she could see the sea ahead, illuminated by the moon, which casted a silvery glow on the water. It was a peaceful scene, yet she could feel her heart racing when she saw Zoro sitting on the bench of her terrace, polishing his swords.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asked as he glanced at her.

“I… I guess I’m nervous about tomorrow.”

“It must be a little overwhelming, I guess. Don’t worry though, we’re a good crew, we’ll take care of you.”

A small smile played on his lips. His words were reassuring, but there was something else in his tone, something that made her heart skip a beat. She bit her lip, walking to the edge of the terrace, her hands holding on to the railing as she tried to find the right words to say.

“I know I’ll be safe with you, guys. It’s just… it feels like the end is near for me in this place… and being in a pirate crew is going to be something so new and big… and I don’t feel like I bring a lot on the table…”

He chuckled softly as he placed his swords down, walking towards to stand next to her, taking her hand in his to give a firm squeeze.

“The end is near for this part of your life, indeed. But you’re strong, you’re brave, and you’re a great fighter. You’ve been through a lot and yet you’re one of the kindest people I’ve met, still standing here, ready to face whatever comes next. That takes a lot of courage, and it takes character. I think you bring a lot, and you’re going to fit right in with us. You’re not alone.”

She smiled shyly, feeling warmth spread through her chest, her eyes almost welling up. He smiled back, his expression genuine.

“Thank you, Zoro. You really have no idea how much that means.”

“I think I do. I know what it’s like to be uncertain about the future, to feel like you don’t belong anywhere. But you belong with us now. You’re going to make a great crewmate. It’s good to have you on board. I have a feeling you’re going to surprise all of us with what you can do.” He paused, his expression a bit more serious. “And… if you need to talk… or vent or… anything… I’m here.”

A deep blush crept up across her cheeks. “I… thank you… for everything. Same goes for me.”

She felt her heart flutter as he continued to hold her hand, her stare moving to meet his gaze. She couldn’t help but feel more at ease with him and he couldn’t deny the way he felt either.

“For now, I think we should just enjoy being together and explore this new thing we’ll find ourselves in. Who knows what kind of trouble we’ll stumble upon?”

“I’m looking forward to seeing what awaits us.” She leaned a bit closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “And I’m looking forward to get to know you better too.”

It was time for his heart to skip a beat at her words. Her eyes widened but before she could shy away, he leaned in closer, and their lips met in a tender, hesitant kiss, a slow, gentle brushing of lips. The sounds of the forest faded away, leaving only the beating of their hearts and the rush of blood in their ears.

“Take care!”

“Come back soon!”

“Sorry I was mean to you, can’t wait to see you again!”

“Be safe and make us proud!”

“Don’t disappear!”

Most of the town’s people were at the port to give their regards to the strawhats and her. The others were already abroad, her being the last to climb the rope ladder on to her new home. She turned around before hoping on to the deck, and took in how weird and eerie her town looked now, like looking at a haunted house from afar.

“So, the end is near, then?”

She lifted her head to see Zoro’s smirk as he gave her his hand to lift her on to the ship. Someone shouted at her to not disappear. She wasn’t afraid of that. She was afraid of staying still. Her head turned around one last time and she saw nothing there.

“Yeah, I guess, the end is here.”

And she took his hand.

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro x y/n #zoro opla #zoro fluff #zoro one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #straw hat crew #roronoa zoro fanfiction #opla!zoro x reader

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wellgoslowly · 11 months

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Hello! I was wondering if I can get a request please. The reader works for Lockwood and Co but she has the complete opposite personality of what Lockwood has (ex: reader is more of listener rather than a talker and when she is around new people she is more on the quiet side until she gets comfortable around them) and Lockwood falls for the reader. Thank you!

Ain't a Life a Many Splendored Thing?

a/n: a bit of a shorter post but I think I might make it into a series!! I loved this prompt and I loved writing it sm!!! it's not much but I didn't want to write more before knowing if yall would want a part 2 :) also yes the title is from hello hello by elton john from the hit movie gnomeo and juliet.

pairing: lockwood x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: none :)

tags: @hufflepuff1619 (thank you for the request!) @oblivious-idiot @tangledinlove @ikeasupremacy @givemea-dam-break @neewtmas [if u guys want to be put on a tag list just lmk in the comments!!! also if i missed anyone im sorry!!!!]

The moment that you stepped into 35 Portland Row for your interview, it was obvious to everyone that Lockwood was a goner.

You two were clearly exact opposites- where he was confident and cocky, you seemed more reserved and humble. Where he was reckless, you seemed calculated and exact. And it was now evident that while he found it natural to talk in order to prevent awkward silences around new people (especially those whom he found to be very attractive), you were perfectly comfortable with listening to him ramble.

“And right up here is the attic.” He was saying now as the two of you climbed up the creaking stairs. “You've met Lucy, obviously- this is her room. And yours as well, if you choose to live here.” He watched you take in the room, filled with Lucy's drawings and scarce decorations on the walls, your eyes lingering on the small bed hastily shoved in the corner. He looked at you with apprehension, admittedly a little worried that you would turn to him and say that you'd changed your mind and reject the employment offer.

Instead, you turned to him with a slight smile on your face and said, “Is it ok with Lucy? If I stay here?” Instantly, Lockwood was filled with relief. “It was her idea, actually.” He said softly, watching you nod in understanding. “Alright then.” You said, a sense of finality in your voice. Lockwood smiled and watched as you walked to set the small bag of belongings you had taken to your interview on top of your new bed. “I'll leave you to it, then. Dinner should be ready soon.” He said to you. You didn't respond, but Lockwood wasn't worried- he knew exactly what your soft smile was meant to convey.

------

“Lockwood, I just- I don't know if she fits here.” It had been only 3 days after you had officially joined Lockwood & Co., but Lockwood wasn't necessarily surprised by the remark George threw him from across the table that morning. You and Lucy were asleep, still tired after facing an infuriating ambush from a large cluster of Type Ones while on a Type Two case.

“What do you mean, George?” Lockwood asked as he took a sip of his tea. “I mean, she's just so quiet. She never speaks, and when she does it's either in one word responses or a couple phrases- even then, she mostly only ever talks to you. I'm just worried about how well she'll be able to communicate in the future.” George explained, his hands moving wildly about.

“You haven't seen her in the field, George- she's brilliant. Her sight is comparable to mine, and her touch… it's like Lucy with her Listening. Yes, she's a bit… reserved, but I'm sure she just needs to warm up to us, is all.” Lockwood smiled at his friend as he took another sip of tea, peeling open the front page of a new issue of True Hauntings.

“Don't think I didn't notice how you avoided the comment about how she only seems to talk to you.” George grumbled, taking a bite out of a piece of toast. Lockwood didn't look up from the text on the page in front of him as he mumbled a soft “I don't know what you're talking about.” George scoffed in response, starting to say something that sounded a lot like “you're clearly gone for her, why do I even try”, when you walked in, hair amess and blinking sleep out of your eyes.

The kitchen fell into immediate silence, George's face flushing in embarrassment as you looked at him, your expression unreadable. “If you're going to talk about me, you could at least do it while I'm around.” Lockwood looked up at that as he didn't notice you silently entering the kitchen. He took in your sleep-addled state and the look of fear in George's eyes. And then you were softly smiling. “I was joking, sorry. Didn't mean to scare you.” You said before sitting down next to Lockwood.

George snorted. “I think that's the most you've said to me the entire time you've been here.” George said, apparently taking your joke to heart. Lockwood softly kicked George under the table, but you just laughed a little.

Deciding to change the subject, Lockwood turned to you with a smile. “I'm sorry for him. What he meant to say was good morning. Would you like some tea?” You smiled at Lockwood, and he was hit with the thought that it mightve been the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. “Yes, please.” You responded. Lockwood nodded, getting up to turn the kettle on once more.

The morning passed like that- you and George softly trading barbs with one another, Lockwood making you your tea and toast, and Lucy stumbling in once you were almost done with breakfast and mumbling a “gmornin” to you and the boys. Soon, the discussion turned from an easygoing conversation over breakfast and lapsed into a more serious discussion as Lockwood started explaining the cases that you all had scheduled for that night.

You and Lockwood would be going out to a house that was reported to contain a Type Two and a couple Type Ones, George would be staying home to do some research for a bigger case the four of you had coming up the next week (he had also gotten injured a couple of days ago and his wound hadn't fully healed), and Lucy would be going to an office afflicted by a couple Type Ones.

Lockwood had been too busy dishing out the information for the night's events to realize that you hadn't been talking. It was only after Lucy and George had nodded in understanding and set out to set their own respective tasks- Lucy heading down to the basement and George getting ready to go to the Archives- when Lockwood looked to you and realized that you had been drawing on the Thinking Cloth the entire time.

He leaned over slightly, watching as you drew a small landscape on a tiny piece of empty space with a green pen that Lockwood wasn't sure he had ever seen before. He smiled as you drew, watching the concentration on your face. “Did you hear the cases for tonight?” He asked softly, watching the quirk at the corner of your lips.

“George is doing research, Lucy's got a couple of Type Ones, and you and me have got the Type Two.” You clicked your pen, signaling that you were finished with your drawing, and then you turned to look at Lockwood. “How'd I do?” You asked softly. “With the cases, or the drawing?” You shrugged, a look in your eyes that told him “both.” He smiled. “Excellent.” He whispered, making you smile.

Eventually, the two of you migrated from the kitchen to the library. Lockwood sat in his favorite armchair, surveying a stack of recent magazines as he decided which one to read first. You left the room quickly, and Lockwood frowned at your departure as he settled into the chair with a week old gossip rag.

But as quickly as you left, you had returned, a book in your hand as you sat down in the chair next to Lockwood. You two sat there for a while, Lockwood taking breaks to explain to you different London Society news while you happily listened and Lockwood smiling to himself every time you reached a point in your book that made you laugh or make some sort of exclamation of disbelief.

He was content, he realized, to just sit there and exist by your side. While he normally felt the need to make his presence known, to charm and impress anyone he might’ve just met, he found that he was very happy to just sit and read with you.

An hour or so later, Lockwood decided that he wanted to go down to the basement and get some training in before the case that night. He was about to ask you if you'd care to join before he noticed that you had fallen asleep, arms curled around your legs and head laying peacefully against the cushioning of the chair. He smiled as he closed his magazine, getting up slowly and draping a blanket over you without a sound.

As Lockwood walked out of the library, he realized that George had been right. Not about you not fitting in- no, you had definitely proven George wrong. Instead, he was forced to admit that George might've been right about Lockwood being gone for you.

hehehe thanks for reading!!! I just put in my 2 weeks at my soul sucking part time job so I'll hopefully have more motivation to work on these hehe!!! I'll also be making a masterlist very soon- I've been meaning to do that for a while

also if yall want a part 2, pls lmk! I loved writing this and I think I could do a lot more w it hehehehe. anywhom if you've read this far, thank you for reading!!! love u!

mwah, linnie

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rookiesbookies · 3 months

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So im so upset, i accidentally deleted an ask.

Here’s the sex doll price fic I got asked for, and i outlined out they work my beloved anon, im sorry😭

—————

So I saw your question and I outlined how it works more in this post (if you havent seen it) and Im getting ready to write the Konig piece, however I want to make it really special so im going to hype it up a bit more and here’s a Price one because I felt like writing him!

Price’s story of getting bought goes much like all the other’s. His lady is lonely one night, flips through some infomercials because there’s nothing good on and she figured they’d be entertaining she guessed? It was a better idea than Steinfeld reruns for the fifteenth time, and nothing streaming was updated or good. It was a rare mood.

It came on for the dolls and she fell in love with the way he moved, smiled, his eyes. It was like the tv knew how much she loved the soft eyes of an older man.

She slid off her couch and onto the floor before she punched in the number on the phone to call, saying she wanted Price.

It took time before he was there. She felt different, he has been marketed as a companion robot on the tv. One that could walk, talk, cook, clean. It would be nice having someone to take care of the house while she was at work.

When the mystery box was on her doorstep with the gibberish, she assumed what it was based on the size.

It took a long time of struggling to get it through the door. She tore into it almost immediately. She didnt even get him out of the box before she planted a soft kiss to his lips, just as the commercial said. His eyes fluttered open and she was met with the same soft eyes she first saw.

He was swift. Reconnecting his lips to her and moving out of his box without much effort. She slid back to make room for his large form, when she hit the wall he crawled over her.

“I was told you were a companion,” she said softly eyes, trained on his lips then flicking up to his eyes.

“Companions do lots of different things. There are plenty of different types of companions, love.” His rough hands came up to her face, thumb grazing over her lower lip. “It just so happens to be my directive to be a certain kind of companion.”

Her body felt like it was on air the whole time, like her nerves were cushioned by personal clouds as he worked.

He was swift, putting her on her hands and knees before working off her pants and underwear. His mouth connected with her lower lips and began work. He was delicate but hungry.

Once he got her what he deemed wet enough he used his knee to move her thighs apart, pulling his pants down.

“Breath, love.” He whispered sweetly into her ear after spitting into his hand, rubbing it over his cock, “remember to breath.”

He let it rest in her for a long time. She fell onto her forearms, debating letting her mouth hang open so drool could fall.

He was rhythmic and juicy. Everything she imagined. She was so high up she almost didn’t register she was about to cum until it happened. He didn’t seem to orgasm, surprisingly, but he didn’t seem to care, maybe he did - well she had no clue. He picked her up and wondered her home until he found the bathroom, drawing her bath before washing her gently and putting her to better not long after drying her.

Worth every penny.

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, check out my AU list for more like this. Don’t forget to leave me a comment (i always try to respond) or a request in my inbox (i also try to respond to these when I can), a reblog, or even just a like to let me know what yall want to see!

#cod x reader #call of duty #captain price #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #price mw3 #price mw2 #captain johnathan price #price x reader #cod price #captain john price #john price #cod sex doll au

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paranormalactivity5 · 3 months

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LUPRICALIA

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Summary: Eddie leads you to believe he doesn't like valentines, when its quite the opposite, he even plans a whole cute day based on old pagan lupricalia traditions. Eddie munson x fem!reader

Notes: the reader is alternative my fics are x chubby!reader unless stated otherwise. Readers' hair is teased/messy in a cute way, please let me know if this makes the fic uninclusive. For the fit think Misa Amanes pink outfit with the heart but red and and one piece. Cross posted on tumblr and wattpad under paranormalactivity/paranormalactivity5g

A/N: sorry for bad writing english IS my first language. As a pagan and overall spooky girl you know I had to make this my Valentine fic. Although no magick occurs in the fic pagan rituals are discussed. Sorry i never post, writers block is pretty much my natural state

Warnings: none just fluff, but there are references to sexual acts and swearing ig, bad writing, loooong paragraphs sometimes, not proof read WC: 1.5k a shortiee

Eddie Munson was a very observant person, and he prided himself on that, but you didn't have to be observant to notice the change in his girlfriend. It wasn't anything bad just…..different than her usual attire. Instead when she walked up to the bench in the woods where they usually met, a red dress with a heart cut out on the chest adorned her body, a chain hanging loosely on the swell of her waist, paired with black fishnets, a black undershirt that covered her arms and had been torn perfectly, along with black go-go boots and teased hair. She walked up with a pretty smile painted on her red stained lips

“Hi baby” you announced yourself, the boy got up to greet you bringing you into a tight hug and swaying back and forth “Hi princess” in his smooth yet grovely voice that always made your heart flutter. “So not that you don't look gorgeous….but, what's with the getup?” “uhh it's almost Valentine's Day?” you replied as if it was obvious “And?” “And? What do mean and?” you said exasperated by him already “And how does it almost being valentines Day warrant this?” “Because baby it's a beautiful day, a day all about celebrating love, don't you wanna celebrate our love?” she went on teasily, looking at him through her lashes causing him to get distracted for a minute, his eyes falling on the small heart cut out on the chest, allowing him to see the tops of your plump breasts but as his eyes went back up they caught on your half of the matching guitar pick necklaces you wore and it reminded him of the topic, love. “I do that every day!” he protested “Fine, you don't have to love it, just let me have it.” you replied kind of disappointed, why could he not get with the of having a day about yourselves and your love? But oh he could and he was going to, you just didn't know it yet.

Eddie was trying to figure out how to surprise you on Valentine's while also making it more personal, not just store bought chocolates and a small bear when he was reading the Hawkins post and saw a column speaking of the horrors of an old pagan holiday lupricalia perfect. Now, while it was a struggle to find reliable information on it in the small conservative town of Hawkins he finally found some information he was immediately ecstatic at the idea. A lot of the traditions weren't doable, things like animal sacrifice and running around naked whipping women with animal hide, but the other ones, feast, and sex? Yeah, he could do that. So he took out some of his rainy day money, booked a reservation at one of the nicer spots in Hawkins, and began planning

Ever the overthinker eddies not caring replayed in your head for the last 13 days until the day before Valentine's. Did he really think celebrating love was stupid? If so could he not at least pretend for you? Meanwhile, it was absolutely killing Eddie to pretend he didn't care, he could tell it was bothering him, and knowing you were upset because of him hurt, hopefully tomorrow will make up for it.

You awoke at around 10 AM to the smell of pancakes, which confused you because Eddie is many things, but a cook is not one. When you got out of bed walking out of the bedroom into the kitchen of the Munson trailer you quickly corrected yourself, you were smelling burnt pancakes. You stood at the enge of the hallway looking at your man listening to his string of curses for making concrete pancakes until he noticed you “Baby!” he almost shouted as you startled him “Nooooo you weren't supposed to wake up until the pancakes were ready……or I made a second batch” he chuckled awkwardly at the last part but you didn't care about that, you walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, gave him a quick peck and when you pulled back you told him “I dont care about that honey, I care that you tried…..and convinced me that you aren't just a heartless man who hates valentines” He giggled into your neck “well I hope I can do more convincing with everything I have planned today” when he said this you immediately kissed him deeply, something about him going out of his way to plan a day with you always seems to get you going “mmph” he groaned into the clip and then pulled away “as much as I love this…thats for later” “so, whats all the fun planned today?” you questioned “well, while we are celebrating i do think that valentines day is a little generic, i decided to make it a bit more personal” you nodded along, already loving this “so i found out the history of valentines day and it comes from a pagan tradition called Lupricalia, and i figure thats more fitting for us, so i figured out the ways they celebrated and fit it into our world” god you loved this man “So they used to have animal sacrificesand obviously we cant do that so i figured we can go see the new nightmare on elm street, seems horrific enough, and then we feast at the marriot on 34th street, and then the one thing that hasent changed, we have hot, passionate sex” he clasps him hands together and all you can think about is how much you love him “i love you so much Eddie Munson” the feeling overwhelmed you so much you just had to voice it. the cutest smile splayed across his face “i love you too princess, now go get ready!” he spoke excitedly and swatted your body as you walked back into the bedroom.

You got yourself ready by putting on a black bustier top with lace trim, a red velvet skirt, and a belt with a bat buckle adorning your waist, again paired with your black gogo boots, and makeup done perfectly when you were ready about an hour later then Eddie and you walked out into the living room where he was sat, he just starred at you, which began to make you nervous until he spoke “god your so fucking pretty” his words instantly made you feel shy “like I wish you could like, be in my head and see you walk into the room,...it would change your life” he always managed to make you feel like a giggly little girl with your first crush “you look very handsome yourself sir” you walked up to him and laid your hand on his bicep, and his face immediately went up in flames, he knew you were easy to fluster, but you knew he was too. As you walked out the door he quickly walked in front of you so he could reach the old van first and open your door “Your chariot awaits madame” in his best British accent “Why thank you kind sir” you replied in your own

When you arrived at the theatre for the screening of Elm Street 3 you got your popcorn and made your way in. About 2 hours later you come out, the movie was pretty good, and while some would argue that it's not a Valentine's movie you think it was perfect. When you arrived at the restaurant it was a bit more on the fancy side, you wondered about the possible cost of this, Eddie could sense this and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

The food was absolutely delectable and it got you wondering what dessert might be like “You know what sounds amazing?” you asked “What?” “dessert” “Ohhhhh…you know what sounds even better? Free desert.” you were confused for a moment when he started to slip one of your rings off your finger but when he got down on one knee, you got what was happening here “y/n l/n, my beautiful girl, my time with you has been the best of my life, you make me see the world in a new way. I love you in ways I never thought imaginable, every day when I look at you, I love you more, which I never think is possible but it always is, will you do me the honor, and let me be your husband?” you started fake crying, which some of it was real due to his words and got up from your seat with a loud yes then kissed him proudly. The other people in the restaurant clapped a little and within 5 minutes there was a slice of chocolate cake on your table. You and Eddie giggled to each other while eating the dessert until you looked up from the cake and saw him looking at you in which a way Aphrodite herself would point and smile “You know I meant every word and one day I really am gonna ask you, I mean there will be a lot more words and a lot more crying but one day…I’m gonna put a ring on your finger..if you’ll so have me.” “of course I'll have you Eddie” You both awkwardly leaned over the table and kissed. As you pulled back you noticed the mark your red lipstick left and went to wipe it away “Leave it.” he protested

When you got home that night and walked into the trailer you pulled him in by his belt loops “Thank you, Eddie, this has truly been amazing.” “no need to thank me, I enjoyed it just as much” You kissed him with all the passion and love that had built up through the night “Now..” you spoke softly “time for some of that hot, passionate sex you were talking about earlier” he grinned devilishly.

A/N: girl you sucked the SOUL outta him that night. Dw he sucked your soul too.

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things #fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #paranormalactivity5 #stranger things fic

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voltronisanobsession · 1 year

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Hiiiii. Im gonna request again bc i love your writing and want more. So I got this idea while watching the episode where voltron crosses into an alternate reality and they meet Sven and Slav. What if the paladins (specifically Lance, Pidge and Keith) and their s/o had a way of looking into some of their alternate realities (maybe Pidge creates a way to see their alternate realities) only to find out that they are soulmates and fall in love in every reality they exist in together…like BRO SOULMATESSSSS IN EVERY REALITYYYY??? Kill me with fluff plz thnx ❤️‍🔥🥹

Soulmates in all Realities

OMG WHEN I TELL YOU I HAD A SIMILAR IDEA BUT FOR ALLURA!!!! I actually really LOVE this idea, im a sucker for soulmates💔 I had a little trouble deciding how I wanted to format this, but I decided on just writing them out than doing hcs, I really did enjoy this, free therapy. ALSO I WANTED TO INCLUDE HUNK ALLURA AND SHIRO BUT IMMA DO THAT IN A DIFFERENT POST‼️‼️ALSO IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO ANSWER💔💔💔

Lance

The team rushed to where Pidge had urgently called them to, wondering what could have been so important that she needed all of them together. Worried yet confused, murmurs sounded in the room as they all waited for the two final paladins to join them.

Shoulder to shoulder, Lance and you both animatedly spoke to each other, giggles and laughter bouncing off the halls of the castle, entering the room with dumb smiles on your faces. There was one thing that was special yet odd about your relationship, which was how fast and easily you were able to click with each other.

Despite only having met after rescuing Shiro when you all were back on Earth, Lances’ outgoing personality clashed well with your own, immediately creating a strong bond in the first few days of knowing each other. While it was strange for the others to see how fast you both grew close to each other, none of them really bothered understanding why this was the case.

Since knowing Lance, you have always felt a strong pull towards him, a feeling foreign from what the other paladins gave you. You had figured he was just the right person you met at the right time.

Lance however, knew from the second he laid eyes on you that you were different from any other person he’s met. He realized when he began talking to you that it felt more like talking to an old friend he’s known for years than an actual stranger he barely knew.

The chemistry between you two was obvious, and after some time you and Lance finally decided to clumsily confess to each other, leading us to the where we are now.

Everyone quieted down once you guys entered the room.

“What’s with the get together Pidge? We were on our third round of Hunks food.” Crossing his arms, Lance leaned his body against yours, causing you to stumble as you tried to keep your balance from his added weight.

Turning around, Pidge, along with Allura, both looked at the group with open and amazed eyes. “Remember how we were stuck in an alternate reality? I was able to save and keep a small piece of the comet when we were going to examine it! Allura and I weren’t able to do much BUT!”

She took a small mirror like object from the table it was settled on and showed it off.

“We were able to make this! Allura somehow was able to use her Altean magic to merge the comet into a functioning mirror, which can look into different realities! I’ve been messing around with it, this can look through realities based on whoever is holding it!”

The group stared in astonishment until Hunk spoke.

“Cool! Very cool, fascinating actually! But! How exactly is this gonna help us on our battle with Zarkon?”

“Uhh, not that much…” Allura sighed in defeat yet regained her energy.

“It’s really interesting though! When I looked through it, i was able to see myself in different lifetimes and different versions of myself! Thought we would show you guys as well.”

One by one, everyone looked through the small mirror, some smiling at the mirror while others showed conflicting looks on their faces. The mirror was finally passed to where you and Lance stood, eagerly taking it in your hands with excitement.

“Ooooh I wonder how I’ll look like!” You gingerly took the mirror into your hands, looking into it with eyes full of wonder. Once the image cleared on the crystal surface, you immediately recognized yourself in the center. Despite the differences your alternate self had, like your in hair length and unknown surroundings, you stared in amazement. Suddenly a new figure entered the mirrors image.

“Hey! Is that me??” Lance shoved his face next to yours, staring in shock as he saw the two versions of you holding hands and giving each other loving kisses on the cheek. This made you both flush as the group began circling around you, suddenly interested in what was happening.

Once yours and Lances’ face were displayed on the mirror, new images began appearing, each with the same reoccurring scene. In one reality, this Lance, whose hair was past his chin, held you in his arms, spinning you around. Another image flashed as you both stared in shock as you realized both of you were still together in this new reality as well.

Every new image had you guys in shock, eyes wide open until you finally decided to put down the mirror. A thumping had emerged during this time in your head, watching as Lance held onto his head in slight pain. At once, you already had an idea of what this meant.

“If you guys new each other in these different realities, it’s not any coincidence. Are you always going to meet in every universe?” The group stood in silence as Pidge spoke. You looked at Lance, knowing he understood as well from the look he gave you.

One full of pain and remorse, one of pure love. This was no mistake. The universe had always planned for you to be together.

“We’re soulmates.” You breathed out, the words feeling right and true to your heart.

“Soulmates.” Lance whispered, slowly beginning to smile until he lifted you up in the air, laughing with joy.

“WE’RE SOULMATES IN EVERY UNIVERSE!”

Pidge

Pidge fiddled with a mirror like object, watching its surface gleam under the bright lights of the castle. Huffing, she sat up and walked out of her room.

After barely escaping the alternate reality they went through, the group all had to take a breather from any missions.

Not only had Lotor gotten away with the entire comet, but Pidge has had this crushing headache that didn’t seem to go away no matter what she did. Not after meeting hers and yours alternate selves in that reality.

And it seemed that she wasn’t the only one affected by this as you have also complained about an agonizing throbbing in your head after the mission. It only got worse when you guys were near each other. Deciding it would be best to stay away for a while, you and Pidge reluctantly kept your distance in hopes the pain would go away.

But it was days like these that Pidge couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t bare with the nonstop throbbing in her head by herself. She knew it would probably make it worse, visiting you, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Walking down the long hallways towards your room, Pidge let her mind wander.

Seeing you and her, along with Slav and Sven, made her begin questioning just how little they all knew of the different universes that laid beyond their knowledge. Seeing the way your alternate selves clung to each other, protecting the other from danger, made her smile.

Despite the obvious difference in appearance and names, they really did resemble you and herself, which frightened her a bit. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that you both knew each in that reality and in your own, right?

The closer the young girl got to your room, the more apparent her headache became. Groaning, Pidge knocked on your door twice before she heard shuffling coming from the inside. Slowly you opened the door, eyes tired yet alert as you looked down on your intruder.

“I knew it was you the second I felt my head began hurting again.” Despite the weak smile you gave her, Pidge felt immediately guilty.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I just… I just needed to see you.”

Humming, you seemed to be thinking about something before opening the door fully, letting Pidge in. “You’re here already, might as well let you in.”

Pidge smiled and entered the room, immediately flopping on your bed and getting comfortable. You joined her, gently laying down to avoid making the pain worse.

The two of you laid in silence as you held her hand, enjoying each others company while trying your best to ignore the consistent throbbing that wouldn’t go away. It was until you noticed the mirror in her other hand that you finally broke the silence.

“What’s that?” Eyes drifting to where you were looking, Pidge raised the mirror so you can properly see it.

“Remember the comet piece I took for examination? I forgot I had it, so I decided to see what I could do with it.”

Pidge placed it in your hands.

“Those Alteans said that with the comet, they would be able to travel to different realities, so I thought ‘might as well make a mirror to see into other realties.’ I don’t if it works though. I wanted to try it with you.”

Looking at her with wide eyes, you began smiling. It always fascinated you how Pidge’s brain worked. Shuffling up into a sitting position, you dragged her up as well.

“Alright well let’s try this together.”

Not really understanding how to use the mirror, you turned it around until just staring at your own reflection. Suddenly, both of you watched in amazement as the mirrors image slowly warped to a different one.

“What’s happening?” The question was left unanswered as the image slowly cleared up, showing two familiar faces.

In the mirror, it showed what appeared to be you and Pidge, sitting at a table drinking something from their mugs. Their surrounding was unfamiliar, but the smile on the alternate version of yourselves captivated the two of you. Suddenly the mirror began flashing images quickly, each showing different versions of yourselves in alternate universe.

“How-”

Pidge was cut off by a striking pain going through her head. You quickly dropped the mirror, hands going to clutch your head as you whimpered in agony.

Images and scenes flashed through your heads, memories flashing quickly before you could even comprehend what was happening. Whispering from the memories echoed through your head, sounding much louder as your heart beat sped up.

These weren’t your memories. Yet all of them showed you in them. Dressed in various styles of clothing, hairstyles you’ve never had, all the images had your face in each one. And with you, there was one other person present in each memory.

Finally the intense flashbacks came to an end. Huffing, you brought a shaky hand to your mouth to cover the soft sobs that came out of you. It’s not every day your forced into remembering everything from your past lives.

Your eyes slowly drifted to where Pidge now laid starring off into the distance, watching as tears slowly fell down her face. Pidge turned her head towards you, reaching out her arms. You quickly pulled her into a crushing hug, emotions too strong for either of you to speak a word.

“I didn’t think we would find each other in this life time too.” Pidge whispered, her grip unrelenting on you. You let out a watery laugh.

“I guess the universe always planned for us to meet.”

After all this time, the pain that had bothered the two of you finally disappeared, leaving only two found soulmates in its wake.

Keith

“Keith do you know where Y/N is?”

Interrupted from his cleaning, Keith looked up from his blade to look at Pidge. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“No, I don’t. Is something wrong?”

She raised a small object from her side and showed him a mirror. Keith looked at it, glanced at Pidge, then back at the mirror.

“You want to show them a mirror?” Pidge nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah! But I can’t find them anywhere. I was wondering if you can, you know…”

Keith finally understood why the short girl came to him. Sighing, he put down his sword and the small rag he was using and got up. He began walking towards the door with Pidge following after him.

Keith had this special… ability. No matter where you were, he always knew where to find you. It was difficult to explain to the others at first, trying not to sound creepy, but as time went on they were able to see what exactly he meant.

Since meeting you after saving Shiro all that time ago, Keith felt this strong pull towards you. Quite literally, it always felt like he was pulled towards your direction as there were times where he would wander around the castle only to see his body led him to where you were.

This happened so often that you even began noticing whenever Keith was around, even if you didn’t see him. But when you told him you didn’t feel the same intense pulling, he thought there was something wrong with him.

It didn’t last long though once he realized you could read him like an open book. Whenever he was upset about something, you would always happen to stumble into him and just know. Like something wrong was happening with him.

He was never able to lie to you about how he was feeling. Not when it seemed like you could look past all the walls he put up. When you could see through all of his confused emotions.

So that’s how you two were able to build up your relationship, him running to you whenever you were in trouble and you knowing whenever something was wrong during an intense mission, just by your gut.

“You know, I always wondered how you know where Y/N is.” Pidge broke the silence causing Keith to look down to her as he continued his walking.

No matter how many times he tried explaining it to the group, they couldn’t fully understand the science behind it.

“I mean. It’s like a force is pushing me to Y/N. My body just knows where to go.” Keith sighed. It was hard even for him to explain.

Pidge let out a thoughtful hum. The two continued down the long halls until they came to a double corridor. The young girl stepped up.

“Wait! Lemme guess which way she’s at!” Rubbing her chin, Pidge pointed to the right hallway, looking at Keith with a smile.

Keith let out a small smile of his own as he headed the opposite way, Pidge letting out a groan as she followed him through the left corridor.

They soon arrived to the hanger where the lions were all recharging. Pidge furrowed her eyebrows as she didn’t see you anywhere.

“I think your Y/N radar is a little off.” Keith rolled his eyes.

“I don’t have an ‘Y/N radar.’” Walking up to the Black Lion, Keith furrowed his eyebrows once again, wondering what you were doing in his lion. Pidge stood beside him confused as she didn’t know you were inside the lion.

“Y/N?” The boy called out for you, only waiting a few moments before you came jogging outside to see both him and Pidge. You smiled at both of them.

“It never ceases to amaze me how your radar works.” Pidge walked up to you as Keith let out a noise.

“It’s not- ugh whatever.” Keith walked up to you as well, placing a gentle hand on your back, the nonstop pulling settling at last.

“What’s up guys? Did something happen?” You looked confused as Pidge smiled at you with Keith shrugging his shoulders.

“Look what I was able to do with the comet ore I had!” You looked at her with wide eyes.

“Wait you still had some of the comet with you?!” The girl nodded quickly.

“Yup! Allura said I could use it since it was too small for her and Coran to make anything useful with it so boom! I made a window to see into other realities.”

“You make that sound like a normal thing to do.” Keith grunted out as his hand rubbed your back.

Hitting him with your elbow, you rolled your eyes and took a seat on the ground, beckoning her to join you. Once she told you how it worked, she handed you the delicate mirror.

“I wanted to show you first before showing the others. I was able to see myself in other realities and I just found it so AMAZING!”

Smiling, you looked up to Keith who was still standing and patted the spot next you. He hesitantly sat down, his leg touching yours.

“Let’s see if we’re together in these realities.” You joked, causing Keith’s face to warm up and Pidge to gag in the background.

Placing the mirror in front of your face, you and Keith watched in awe as an image slowly began appearing. A foggy figure stood in the center of the mirror, clearing up to reveal you. Or a different version of you. Despite having your face, this version of you looked completely different! You weren’t human in that universe.

“Are you seeing this! Woaaahhh!” You were so enraptured by what you were seeing you barely noticed the new person entering the image when you faced the mirror to Keith.

There walked in what seemed to be a Galra? Yet this Galra had Keith’s face and smile. You quieted down, feeling Keith clutch onto your hand, urging you to bring the mirror closer to him. There you both watched as your alternate versions talked to each other with a soft look in their eyes. The image soon changed showing many different realities of yourselves, each of them with each other.

The mirrors images soon faded only showing yours and Keith’s faces staring back in shock. You slowly placed the mirror on you lap and looked towards Keith. He was staring at the object in your lap still until he felt your stare.

His eyes made contact with yours and then it all suddenly clicked. Why he felt a pull towards you. Why you were able to read his mind so easily. In your reality, you two were always meant to meet.

“I guess we’re…” Keith hesitantly spoke still staring into your eyes with a newfound happiness.

“Soulmates?” You let out a small chuckle of your own cupping his cheek. After the word left you mouth, you felt something twist inside of you. And just like that, a flood of emotions crashed down on you as you felt Keith’s love, confusion, happiness, and fear merge with your own.

You smiled and he smiled right back.

Pidge looked between the two of you in shock and confusion.

“WAIT WHAT?! SOULMATES??”

Both of you looked at her in shock as you guys forgot she was there too. You looked at each other and then laughed at her confusion. Time to tell the others.

#Lance x reader #pidge x reader #keith x reader #voltron x reader #lance mcclain #pidge gunderson #katie holt #Keith kogane #vld x reader #voltron legendary defender #soulmates #x reader #vld

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thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai · 3 months

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When did Viktor choreograph Stammi Vicino and did he commission the music?

There are some controversies regarding Viktor's free programme and I took the time to look at them in greater detail and pin them down to the likeliest explanation. (some of the things discussed in this post I've mentioned in a discussion I was involved in recently. The rest of this post builds on that.)

Disclaimer: Please note that this is an analysis of the source material. Popular headcanons that have no basis in canon cannot be part of this discussion. This is getting a bit academic. Please bear with me.

1. Did Viktor commission the music for Stammi Vicino?

In an interview, Mitsurou Kubo called the aria a piece of music that exists in the world of YOI, but when we subject the hints in the anime to a close examination, they contradict her statement, making you wonder which is true.

I mean, there’s this (sorry for the crappy screenshot)

Technically, the YOI creators might just have used footage of this programme because there was no time to animate Viktor skating an entirely different routine, but due to the tight time constraints of 12 episodes that forced the creators to condense the plot to 50% of its initial size, every scene and every image demanded to be filled with meaning. Speaking of time constraints, they could have used a series of pictures that show adult Viktor in different costumes (like those that had been drawn for Yuuri's room), but they didn't do that either, which rules out technical reasons for this choice.

But there’s more.

From a storytelling perspective, it makes no sense to combine these lines with a short scene of Viktor skating Stammi Vicino if it doesn’t apply to this programme. It’s bad storytelling, period. As Viktor’s fan, Yuuri knows which songs Viktor commissioned because skaters love to talk about these things in interviews. Being a skater himself, Yuuri is knowledgeable in all kinds of music genres even if he lets his coach pick the songs for him. Skaters just happen to be exposed to a lot of music.

This scene makes it seem as if Viktor has been commissioning music for his programmes for several seasons at least. While this doesn’t rule out the possibility that he occasionally picked a song that already exists for whichever reason, Stammi Vicino applies to Viktor’s situation at the beginning of the show so neatly that the lyrics must have been tailored to him. The commentator’s words while Viktor is skating his FS furthermore suggest that this programme shows a new and personal side of him. Of course, that could also work for a song that already exists, but how likely is it that such a song 100% matches the vision of a perfectionist? That a genius like Viktor would just roll with that is debatable at least. He’d rather think “Okay, that’s nice. But this verse and that verse don’t match my idea at all. I think I'll call my composer and ask them to write a song for me.”

Stammi Vicino holds unambiguous references to Plato’s Symposium, which the YOI creators have mentioned repeatedly. And while this is neither an argument for or against the song already existing before Viktor even thought about a free programme for the season in question, it seems too coincidental from a storytelling perspective.

To me, all this points to Viktor commissioning Stammi Vicino because taken all facts together, it’s what makes the most sense.

Side note: It’s not entirely uncommon for storytellers to contradict their creation. Sometimes, you forget details, remember them wrong, or didn’t think them through. Or your views simply change. In the case of YOI, we have to factor in the possibility that certain details had to be de-homoed due to protests from parts of the Japanese fandom. The rings that were removed from many official arts that were released during the first year after the show had aired are such an example. In addition, interviews are often heavily edited.

2. When did Viktor choreograph Stammi Vicino?

The first time we see Viktor wearing the Stammi Vicino costume, is right at the beginning of episode 1 at the GPF. While there is no rule against wearing the same costume for different programmes and costumes are expensive, you usually don’t see this in real figure skating. Some figure skaters even get a new costume for the same programme mid-season because matches the purpose better.

The music, the composition and choreography, and costume build the concept of a figure skating programme. The more perfectionist a skater is (and many top skaters actually are), the more specific you can bet they are about the concept. Viktor is a perfectionist who has full authority over his programmes and he can afford having several costumes per programme. Wearing the same costume for several programmes is a breach with his characterisation.

Let’s assume for one moment that Viktor did indeed create Stammi Vicino because of his encounter with Yuuri at the GPF in Sochi. Why would the creators have been so sloppy and put him into the same costume which he wears at Worlds when they even designed costumes the other two GPF winners JJ and Chris?

Does he wear the same costume because he met Yuuri there? Well, Yuuri approached him at the banquet at the end of the competition and only because he was drunk. Before, Yuuri was to awkward to even talk to Viktor and was, in all likelihood, too busy not freaking out, dealing with having bombed his performance, and Vicchan's death. To reflect Viktor's first actual meeting with Yuuri in a programme, thus choosing a costume that resembles the suit he wore that night would make way more sense.

Some skaters change their programme mid-season. Some switch back to an old programme, other skaters create an entirely new programme. Again, a skater like Viktor could afford this and is skilled enough to bend a new routine to his vision in time for the big competitions. (For reference: Russian Nationals are two weeks after the GPF, which leaves a skater competing in both events one week in between. That’s just enough to pitch the idea to his composer and commission a costume.)

Once Nationals are over and done, Viktor could start working on the new programme and show it at Europeans for the first time. That would leave him about one month to bring it to a level that will win him this competition. Yuuri would now have about two months to create a perfect copy. As he his busy graduating and preparing his move back to Japan, it’s debatable whether this is enough time. That’s the only reasonable timeline for such a scenario. However, since Viktor wore the costume before the banquet, this doesn’t seem likely and the show gives us no clear-cut clue why that could be and I’m loath to speculate wildly.

BUT: Viktor can't have created this programme after Sochi because Yuuri explains to Yuuko that he started practising the programme when the competitions ended [for him, the season itself is not yet over]. For Yuuri, the season ended at Japanese Nationals, which happen to be at the same weekend as Russian Nationals.

Long story short: Everything points to Viktor having created Stammi Vicino at the beginning of the season in which he wins his fifth GPF and world title, respectively. And there’s a beauty in this choice because it gives Viktor an agenda beyond his love interest. Well-crafted characters exist outside of their interactions and relationships with the other characters. Giving them things that belong to them alone adds more depth to their personality and turn them into individuals. Viktor had a life before Yuuri and this life was lonely and his (secret) longing for love was an inherent part of it (I’m preparing a follow-up post that examines the lyrics more closely, so forgive me for not going into the details here).

Especially in a show that is limited to 12 episodes and in which every image is filled with meaning, including details that hint at the characters’ past are beyond precious.

Thanks for reading! <3

If you enjoy my meta, please consider checking out my works on AO3 (link in bio)! My YOI canon works all include my meta musings.

#yuri on ice #yuri on ice meta #yoi #yoi meta #my yoi meta #viktor nikiforov #katsuki yuuri #figure skating #anime #stammi vicino

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hannigramislife · 4 months

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for my own gratification bc i just ran into nie mingjue hate in the wild, would you mind making a post that defends my poor good boy? he worked so hard and got gaslit to shit before getting murdered terribly ;; literally everyone sat there telling him "youre being too harsh" and he's just responding appropriately. like yeah, if you witness a murder, ya kinda got to do something about that as a clan leader. its kinda your responsibility, even when you care about the person who did the murdering. he was also a really young when he took on the role of clan leader and idk, it just made me rlly sad to see people dunk on him cuz wtf he's literally just trying his best in an impossible situation WHILE being perpetually fucked over by his clan's own traditional cultivation cuz now the stronger he is as a leader, the closer he is to going literally insane and dying bc of it. (mingjue did nothing wrong i will die on this hill) ((sorry for going on a tirade, im just sad and defensive of my good boy rn))

Oh no! I'm so sorry you had to go through Nie Mingjue hate! Truly tragic. I went through that once when in the beginning of me reading the books, when I still had no proper opinions, and never again.

I'm more than willing to make a post about Nie Mingjue! I'm always down to talk about Nie Mingjue tbh, he's my heart and love and if I were to have been given the opportunity to be his right hand person, I would have simply never betrayed his trust and married him. Rip Jin Guangyao but I'm different.

Anyways, I, huhhh, actually think you?? Covered it all??? Pretty much?? Yet I will talk about it. This will be long and non-coherent, because I don't have the books rn to find quotes in them and honestly, I could write essays on Nie Mingjue either way.

Nie Mingjue is a central piece of the narrative, despite the limited amount of appearances he made, and the fact that he wasn't close to the main characters at all. The entire second part of the plot revolves around him- it happened because of him. His murder is a tragedy; literally, by greek standards, man has Cassandra Curse all over him, so I don't get how people can tell me, confidently, that his death was warranted. I've been told the man had asked for it, and this has mostly been by Jin Guangyao apologists.

So let me make something real fucking clear.

Nie Mingjue did not deserve to die. Let's get that out of the way, anyone can fight me on that. Nie Mingjue had more good qualities than half the people in this fucking story, despite his flaws. After his father was brutally murdered when Mingjue was only in his teens, Nie Mingjue stepped up as clan leader. We can only speculate the hardships that await someone leading a clan at such an early age. Yet, political challenges weren't the only thing he had to battle; Nie Mingjue knew about his clan's harmful cultivation, and he knew he was going to die young. So what did he do? His best. Literally his best, always. He was always giving 100% of his abilities, because that's who he was.

Let's talk about who Nie Mingjue was, shall we?

When Jin Guangyao, still Meng Yao then, describes Nie Mingjue, he finds himself perplexed, because Nie Mingjue isn't like other men. He is not frivolous, and he has no vices; Meng Yao describes how Nie Mingjue never showed an interest in arts, or alcohol, or women. All he did was train, and fight the Wens during the war. It shows that he had a one-track mind from the start, and has got a strict discipline; yet this strictly disciplined man, leader of a clan that prizes strength, continuously indulges his lazy and undisciplined half-brother, his one and only heir, despite not understanding his interests. We gather, pretty quickly, that Nie Mingjue is a bleeding heart for his brother, and for the ones he loves in general. We see the same softer side displayed in the presence of Lan Xichen, and of course, for some time, Meng Yao.

People seem to think Nie Mingjue took Meng Yao's betrayal too harshly. As if somehow seeing a man he thought to have been just and honest commit premeditated murder, then cover it up, was something he was just supposed to get over. To this day, I can't believe how Lan Xichen was so understanding of it. But not only did Nie Mingjue catch him in a cowardly act - Meng Yao proceeds to manipulate him, using the fact that Nie Mingjue cared about him, to stab him in the back. Or front, however it happened. I get that Meng Yao was in a difficult position, that he suffered at the Jins, that he felt backed in a corner; but Nie Mingjue was a man that had extended his help to Meng Yao before, and even then, he went to find Meng Yao in righteous fury, ready to help him again. To Nie Mingjue, the idea that Meng Yao "had no other choice" but to kill - to kill in the manner he did - it could have been nothing but a betrayal.

One thing that I personally highly respected Nie Mingjue for was the fact that he did not judge Meng Yao for his background. This is not up for debate; Nie Mingjue stood up for him, quite publicly, quite vocally, when Meng Yao was being insulted over it. And not only that, but he promoted Meng Yao to be his right hand man, just like that. Because he's impulsive, and to prove a point, but it was still huge of him to do. Not even Lan Xichen would have done that - In a society built on power dynamics between social classes, Nie Mingjue was one of the few characters who did not let that define his actions. It wasn't because he was born privileged (though he was) but because he he didn't let anything other than his judgment direct his actions. Nie Mingjue also never shied away from anything; if it had to be done, he did it, no matter the cost.

Nie Mingjue was decisive, and had an iron will. When Meng Yao killed the Nie disciples in Qishan, he wanted to kill Meng Yao. Meng Yao told him, paraphrasing, that "don't you understand that if I hadn't done that, it would have been your corpse up there?" and Wei Wuxian takes it to mean "Translation: I saved you so you can't kill me, because that would mean you're in the wrong." So Nie Mingjue hesitated for a second, then said: "Fine! I'll kill you, and then take my own life!" And the only reason he didn't, was because Lan Xichen was there. Otherwise, Nie Mingjue would have killed his former friend, then followed him to whatever afterlife awaited.

Nie Mingjue is often portrayed like he doesn't understand stuff, like he's stupid, simply because of his black and white sense of morality. That's not correct: Nie Mingjue understands motive, but he doesn't accept the ends justifying the means. Scratch that, he doesn't accept or justify either, if they're unjust. The murder of the Jin commander, the murder of the Nie disciples, not executing Xue Yang - how can Nie Mingjue possibly understand Meng Yao's decisions, when Nie Mingjue would rather die, any day, than live thanks to vile actions?

And then, Nie Mingjue starts falling into qi-deviation. We know that it affected his temper the most, and his judgement. I don't understand how it works, really, so I don't know by the end how much was Nie Mingjue and how much was the mess that the spirit made of him - maybe a combination of the two. But what is certain, is that the rapid qi deviation changed him.

But I could write a hundred more pages on him, meticulously going over every single scene he has ever appeared in, because I find him that interesting. I find him the most interesting, and the most appealing character, because in a story where the navigation of the cultivation world's complex politics and hierarchies with tact and diplomacy is crucial, Nie Mingjue stands uncompromising in his principles, choosing duty and honor over anything else, even when it's hard.

#the untamed #mdzs #cql #mo dao zu shi #nie mingjue #nie mingjue had his flaws #and he had his virtues #i will not allow slander on his name #when he always did what he thought was best and just and good #when he was loving and kind and hot-headed but he was also just in his early 20s with the weight of the world on his shoulders #cold absolutely freezing day in hell when i'm over him

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cherryblossom-heart · 1 year

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No, you can't call me her name (S.R)

Steve Rogers x Reader

Masterlist

P.T. 2 of Can I call you her name?

Summary: It’s funny how they say you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

9.8k words

Content Warning: Angst, heartbreak, Steve’s side of the story, +18 SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (slight mentions of penetrative sex), fluff from an spectators point of view, big talks about heartbreak and emotional damage because of a relationship.

A/N: It's finally here! I hope you guys enjoy it and sorry it took longer than I thought it would.

Post dividers by @firefly-graphics

For as long as he can remember, Steve’s life has been plagued by an unstoppable force of people leaving his life, whether it was by death itself, broken relationships, or just time. He had lost his mom when he was only eighteen years old, left alone to figure out his place in a vicious world that had no place for someone like him.

He had also lost Bucky. Except that this time, it wasn't death that did it, at least not entirely. He had lost his brother that day when he fell from the moving train. Everyone, including himself, had thought of him as dead, as it would be impossible for him to survive the fall. The second time he lost him was when he realized what he had become.

Steve had also lost Tony for a while, but the relationship was still on its way to becoming what it once was. He had lost Peggy, the possibility of a life with the woman who had won his heart for the first time.

He had lost stability ever since he woke up from the ice. Things in his life always seemed to fluctuate between okay and bad without warning. Every day could be the day he lost someone else, or something bad could happen to the rest of the world, which would always fall on his shoulders to fix.

That was until she came.

Steve never meant to fall for her. In the beginning, she was just a coworker, someone he had met through S.H.I.E.L.D. and who he would occasionally see during briefing meetings. There was no love at first sight or a sudden realization that he had found the person he had been looking for to complete him.

First, it was just a talk, small talk that turned into something more comfortable once they shared that they grew up in the same neighborhood, at different points in time, but the familiarity of the past was enough to entice him.

One day, he noticed how he was unconsciously waiting for her to cross the door, hoping she would look at him and wave him hello. Another day, he realized how much he liked when she smiled at him, his own smile mimicking hers, and how he would fix his hair and clothes before going into a room she was going to be in.

From that moment on, he was a goner.

She had turned into that piece of stability he had been missing in his life. Their relationship meant he had something to grow attached to, someone to come back to. The veil of loneliness that lingered in his life was slowly lifted with her help, and Steve no longer felt out of place. He was no longer a man out of time.

Things moved on quickly. Six months later, they moved in together, and the confidence they both had in their decision tuned out other people's input about the relationship. Mostly Bucky, who had warned him not to go in too deep, but Steve, as brave and selfless as he could be, was also stubborn.

For five years Steve was able to go back home and it would actually feel like one. For five years, no matter how hard things got, he was always good. Happy. Content. Because for five years he had her at his side, no matter what life would throw at them.

Everything was stable for a while. But the one thing Steve failed to realize was that just because you are happy where you are, that doesn’t mean things will stay the same. Good things rarely last, and time moves too fast.

Steve never saw it coming when she came home one day and told him she had taken a job on the other side of the country. The news that she had been planning this for a while blindsided him. He was aware that things weren't as good as they used to be; a certain amount of tension had lingered between them for the past half year of their relationship. But he thought they could work on it, fix whatever had been broken, and go back to how things were.

After all, he has always been a fighter. No matter how difficult, no matter how unlikely, no matter how painful, as long as there was hope, he would fight.

Except this time, he should’ve given up.

"Because I don’t love you anymore!"

"I can’t keep living in this—this farce. Every time I come home, I wish you weren’t here. I wish I was alone in this house because at least then I could breathe, and I wouldn’t have to pretend I still feel something when you touch me."

"I need to get away from you, because if I don't, I’ll never leave, and in twenty years, I’ll wake up and realize that I spent my life with someone I have never truly loved."

Pain and grief weren’t foreign concepts for him. He embraced them, learned from them, and moved on.

Steve Rogers knew pain from the battlefield. He had been shot, stabbed, burned, and punched by beings ten times stronger than him. He also knew pain from the loss of a friend, the loss of his life, and from the loss of someone he loved.

But the pain of losing your one silver lining in a sea of darkness was too much to bear.

After that, life was a blur spent between missions, training, and gathering intel. Mission after mission, report after report, months passed until he finally realized it had been almost a year and a half since she left.

His hair had changed, his beard had grown, and some might even say he got bulkier as his coping mechanism ever since he got the super serum had been breaking boxing bags. He had moved back into the tower, and his hobby of drawing had stopped completely. The notebook he had half filled with sketches was left untouched in one of the drawers of his desk.

Things had changed, except for the emptiness of his chest.

But then you came.

You came into his life in such an unexpected way that it took him by surprise. a beautiful woman covered in coffee and whipped cream who had such a colorful vocabulary. You were like the whiff of fresh air he had needed for so long, and the more he got to know you, the more he was intrigued by you. He praised your perseverance and enthusiasm for your work, noting that you always gave your all to every project you worked on.He also admired your strength, perhaps not physical but emotional, and the way that no one could make you crumble apart. Not your boss, your coworkers, or humiliation itself.

Not even him.

Steve was well aware of your feelings for him from the start.The way your eyes would shine when he touched you or the sound of your heartbeat kicking against your chest when your eyes connected. He saw every change in you when you went from liking him to loving him. You had never explicitly said the words, but there was no need, you couldn’t mask the emotions that hid behind your eyes.

He knew your feelings towards him from the very beginning, and yet he stayed. He stayed because he liked the way you made him feel and that the loneliness that had taken over his life was no longer there. He allowed himself to be loved by you just so the emptiness in his chest wouldn’t feel so deep anymore.

But Steve also knew he couldn’t love you back. His heart didn’t belong to him anymore; it wasn’t his to give to someone else, as it had left those years ago with her. The way something broke inside you when you asked him for more almost made him break things up. It would’ve been the best thing for you; you were his friend, yet he had no problem hurting you.

However, your relationship had shown Steve a quality he never thought he had. He was a selfish man. He couldn't let you go, not when you were the only thing keeping him afloat in the darkness. You were his lighthouse, and without you, he would drown, and he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to come back from it. So he said he needed time; he promised you a future that would never come just to keep you by his side.

Of all the shitty things Steve had done, he thought this was the worst one. Using you, playing with your feelings, and giving you false hope. He thought he couldn’t hurt you more than that.

Oh, he had been so wrong.

But now she had her back. And in the end, it was all that mattered, right? The woman he had been loving ever since she left had, for some reason, decided to take him back. Everything was supposed to be perfect and in place. He was whole now.

Then why was the emptiness in his chest still there?

"So, what do you think?"

Wide eyes scan the notebook you hold in your hands. For a moment, he thinks you hate it; the drawing of yourself he had made shows you in a compromising position. The sheets from your bed covered the lower half of your body while your arms extended over your head. Your breasts were perked up, and the soft lines ran along your shape in a seductive position as you lay down in bed.

However, it is your eyes that draw attention away from your frame.Your face is looking directly at the viewer, as if you were laying right in front of them in the flesh. The intensity he portrayed in them is the same one he always sees when you look at him. Steve knows what it is, even if he refuses to acknowledge it. Even when he tries to erase it from his mind, or when he looks away because he can’t bear to see them, they’re always there to greet him. And, if he is honest with himself, he can’t help but be drawn to them.

He likes how they make him feel.

You notice the fire in your eyes too. Your fingers softly trace along the lines of the drawing, making sure not to smudge them as it is only made out of pencil. Perhaps he should use one of those drawing pens you gifted to him on his birthday to immortalize your image on the paper; the pencil is too fragile to let your portrait sit on it. It’s a portrait he will like to preserve for eternity.

"Well, I think that documentary I watched on you lied to me," you say with a frown, eyes still glued to the notebook.

What?

His chest sinks a little; maybe you didn’t like it as much as he had thought you would.

"What do you mean?"

You look up, and his heart soars. You have the same look, now complimented with a coy smile.

"They said you were a good artist, but it turns out you’re amazing."

Your smile is bigger now, and it's contagious. Steve crosses your bed, your bedsheets slipping down his body as he reaches for you. One of his hands grabs the back of your neck to bring you close for a kiss, while the other goes to your hip. The weight of his body pushes you down to your back; his notebook is discarded next to you.

He can feel your smile as he crashes his lips against yours. A hand rests on his chest as delicate fingers bury themselves in his hair. The way you massage his scalp sends shivers down his spine, a trick you discovered the second time you slept together.

With a teasing smile on your now puffy lips, you break the kiss apart."Well, someone has a praise kink."

Heat flushes Steve’s face. The sweet notes of your laugh fill his ears; your head is thrown back slightly as your chest rumbles. You caress his face as your laugh decreases, your fingers brushing his hair as you adjust it. And there they are again, those eyes that burn deep in his soul as much as he tries to avoid them.

But he can’t bear to look at them. So he just nuzzles against your chest, the affectionate embrace taking you by surprise.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," he says quietly, almost as if he doesn't think you heard him.

He shouldn’t have done that. He means every word he says. Because right now, as he lays in your arms, he can forget about everyone else outside your apartment. Just for a few seconds, he can pretend.

He can pretend to forget about her.

"Me too," you whisper back.

The hopefulness of your words almost breaks him.

Darkness met Steve’s eyes as he opened them. It took him a second to remember he wasn’t back in your apartment, nor had you settled against him. Instead, the warmth he feels next to him is from the girl he yearned for in that memory, and the apartment he was settled in was hers.

He had dreamed about you nearly every night since you left. Taunting reminders of your affection for him haunted his dreams every time he closed his eyes, but this time he was unable to escape them. He expected the dreams to stop a couple of weeks after you left. However, as time passed and your absence in his life became more noticeable each day, they kept coming back. Each one was more vivid than the previous, as if his mind was desperate to see you, even if it was in the past.

"You okay?" Her whisper startled him slightly. He didn’t realize she was awake or that she was staring at him.

"Yeah, I’m fine." The unconvincing tone of his voice made her frown, but she left him alone. So many times she has asked the same question that his unwillingness to answer doesn’t really bother her anymore. "How long have you been awake?" He changed subjects.

She shrugged. "A couple of minutes." Her hand settled delicately on his chest, making him turn around to see her. "You were mumbling in your sleep."

"Oh, sorry," was all he said to her.

He returned to his sleeping position, his gaze fixed on the roof of her apartment. He'd been there for a few weeks, but he still couldn't get used to her white roof. Yours was also white, but something about this shade made him uncomfortable. Yours made him feel calm. Secure. At peace.

Maybe it was the neighborhood or the decor you had that made him feel like that.

Or maybe it was you.

Instead, he is left with uneasiness every time he comes to see her. Her cups were not where they were supposed to be. The towels she has have a different texture; they somehow felt rougher on his skin, and even the smell in the place is different. The unfamiliarity of the place almost swallowed him whole.

She laid on top of him, her hand tracing lazy circles on his chest as her lips left kisses on his neck. She’s trying to comfort him, but for some reason, the only thing he felt was an uneasiness that found its way to his chest.

"Was it a nightmare?"

"No." He answered quickly, almost too quickly.

In his dreams, your eyes still carried that same warmth. You still made him feel, even if it’s just a memory.

"It was a pretty good dream."

Why do things have to be so complicated, even when they are supposed to be perfect?

Steve had a plan for the night. He had cooked dinner, set the table, and even gone to grab her favorite scented candles. Everything was in place.

He needed a distraction. Or more like a reminder that even if he didn’t have you in his life for the moment, he still had his silver lining. He still had her. He needed to remind himself that everything had turned out for the best, and what better reminder than spending the night together?

The plan started well; she got home, took a shower, and they both sat down to have a great dinner. He had done this many times when they lived together. He loved the way her eyes sparkled when she saw his surprise and the way she would smile all evening. Nights like that always brought them together.

However, things may not always be as perfect as they once were.

He couldn’t remember how it had started. Perhaps it was the way he had cooked the food or the mess he had left in the kitchen, or maybe she just had a rough day at work. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but they started arguing. They had argued in the past, as many couples do, but even in the middle of a screaming match, he could feel the love between the words. And no matter how bad it was, he always felt the need to stay.

But this time it suffocated him.

The more they kept fighting, the more the room seemed unbearable to be in. He didn’t like the way she kept saying things about him she didn’t like, the things he had done wrong. He also didn’t like the way he could so easily think of things about her that he found irritating.

And as she stood up to lock herself in her bedroom, he didn’t feel the need to go check on her. With an anger that seeped deeply through his veins, he slammed the door. He didn’t say a word to her, not even leaving a note behind.

There had been a few times when Steve Rogers felt nervous.

He had felt like that when he was given the serum. The pain he felt once his bones started growing was one he would never forget. He also felt it when he crashed into the ice, saving the city that saw him grow up. The world had moved on for seventy years before he woke up.

And as he looked at the door of the conference room and his leg bounced up and down, Steve felt the same way he felt all those times.

Sixty-eight days had gone by since the last time you spoke. For sixty-eight days he had been waiting for this day, when you finally got back from your trip and had to come to the tower to discuss things with him. Work-related things, of course, as you had left it really clear you didn’t want anything else to do with him.

He had been debating all night whether he would try to apologize again. His heart begged him to do it, to keep trying until you heard his apology. But his rational mind would remind him of the phone call you had the day you left. You didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, and he couldn’t blame you.

So, instead of keeping apologizing over and over again, he would treat you as if you were just a coworker. He would pretend as if you were a stranger that he had just met. A stranger that knew his deepest, darkest secrets. A stranger that brought him comfort with just her touch A stranger, whose heart he had shattered

Everything he had planned fell apart the moment you walked into the room and raised your gaze to him. You were there, walking in as if nothing had happened two months ago. But this was not his you.

There was ice around you, a barrier so tall and thick that he could almost feel it as you got closer. You looked the same. The same clothes he had seen before, the same color and length of your hair, and your features remain intact. You were exactly as he had seen you in his dreams every night.Everything was the same, except it wasn’t.

"Good morning" was the greeting you offered him. Different, cold, distant.

He wanted to say so many things, and words of apology were dying on his throat. But he knew how you would react to his wanting to talk about something other than the matter at hand. Besides, he owed you that much after everything he had done. For your sake, he wouldn’t try. He would leave you alone.

The meeting went through without a problem. If Steve had to describe you in any way, he would use the word polite. Through the whole meeting, you were polite to him, asking him what he wanted to do, suggesting new ideas, and scheduling the places he had to go. You were polite yet distant, and Steve realized that maybe he wouldn’t have to pretend you were a stranger.

The woman he had met and the one that sat right in front of him were not the same. The woman in front of him didn’t have the same love pouring from her heart when she talked to him. He wasn’t even sure still you had a heart.

It was all his fault.

He was supposed to stay the night in her apartment; a bag of clothes for the next day hanging from his shoulder was proof of it. But as soon as he laid on the bed, his brain refused to shut down. Flashbacks to him seeing you walk into the room plagued his mind, and your icy stare could freeze him on the spot.

"Selfish, selfish, selfish," his mind kept whispering.

He would’ve been fine staying the night there even if he couldn’t sleep, but when Steve felt her hand trailing down, his first reaction wasn’t excitement. Blue eyes and blonde hair met his sight; her fingers searched through his skin, leading down a path that led under his pants. Before, just the lustful look in her eyes was enough to make him hard. Now it just made him want to crawl away.

She had become a constant reminder of the things he had done and the irreparable damage he had caused to you.

His phone had miraculously saved him. The ding cut through the atmosphere. His body almost jumped from the bed to grab the device that lay on the nightstand next to him. A simple text from Sam asking to borrow his brown leather jacket since his had been ruined a couple weeks ago. He texted him back, quickly gathering his belongings as he zipped the duffle bag.

"Sorry, they need me back at the tower." He had lied.

That night, he walked for hours in the dark streets of New York, passing through the places he had taken you on your first date or non-date.

He could still feel your lips on his when his eyes were closed.

There were three times Steve realized your relationship with his best friend was turning into something else.

The first time happened during a work meeting. Everything went exactly as it had gone ever since you came back. Professional, superficial, and distant. His mind told him it was the best for both, but especially for you. He couldn’t ask anything more of you, and even asking you to hear his apology would be for his own benefit.

But he couldn’t help but want to be selfish, not when you were just inches away from him. It was weird how easy it was for you to pretend there wasn’t a past between both of you. He had expected you to be angry at him, yell at him, maybe slap him. He had expected violence because, at the end of the day, it was what he deserved.

The rage and anger never came. He got the side of indifference, which cut him more than if you were going to hate him for the rest of your life. Why was it so easy? Why couldn’t he do the same and pretend nothing had happened between you two?

Why did he keep dreaming about you?

A part of Steve knew the answer, the part of him that had tried to make him stop using you. The part of him that was humane and cared about people had warned him against it, the pang in his chest whenever he could feel your love was proof of it. Every time he ignored that part of his, just like he kept doing whenever he sat next to you.

Instead, he decided he could be content with just having you here. Because having you sit in front of him was better than not having you at all. Indifference was worse than hate, but he could hold onto it, as long as he could still see you.

He was content with it until Bucky came around.

A reflective flash caught his eye. The artificial lightning had reflected from the super-soldier's prosthetic as he stood outside the crystal walls of the conference room. Steve was aware you two were close now, seeing as he had accompanied you not only during his mandatory press tour but also during your two weeks of vacation. He also remembered that he had been the one to take you out of the room that night at the gala.

Steve couldn't blame his friend for wanting to protect you or for seeming to withdraw from him. Bucky had not really spoken a lot to him since that night, instead opting for avoidance at all costs. The only words that Steve was able to get from him weren’t even words. Grunts and nods, monosyllables, and side eyes were all the responses he would get. The only time he had gotten anything else from his was the night after everything crashed down.

The elevator doors opened, and his friend took long, angry strides out of the metal box. Steve could see his friend's rage seeping through him, a level of rage he hadn't seen in a long time.

Steve never saw Bucky’s fist coming to his face.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he roared.

His nose stung from what he thought was a broken nose. Sparks of pain traveled across his face and blood started pouring out of it. His eyes watered as he tried to escape his friend's grasp so he could protect his face. But his friend’s rage was a strong enhancement to his already strong grip. He held him against a wall.

"You don’t understand. "She's back," he said, his voice breaking.

"What about her? What about the fact you had been leading that poor girl on for the past two years?" The pressure on Steve's chest from Bucky’s fist increased. Steve turned his head around, not being able to face his friend.

"I didn’t mean to hurt her—"

"But you did. The things you said yesterday..." He couldn’t finish his sentence.

Steve never meant for you to hear those things, he wasn’t even sure if he was ever going to tell them to you. But when his eyes found yours, the broken image of the girl who had been by his side no longer than 20 minutes ago was seared into his brain.

"Stay the fuck away from her, or the next time I see you, your nose won't be the only thing that’s broken."

His relationship with Bucky had been nonexistent since that day. He was lucky that Sam seemed not to be aware of what had transpired, as he had only found it odd that there was no contact between you and him. Steve wasn’t going to explain the situation, too embarrassed to admit it to his friend and risk losing Sam too.

Lately, he seemed to be an expert at driving away his friends.

He watched you walk through the door, a smile appearing on your face as you saw Bucky standing outside the room. His flesh arm extended, showing off a cup. He recognized the logo on the side of the object. It was from your favorite coffee place, and it was, as he assumed, your favorite drink.

You looked at the drink, then at Bucky’s eyes, and Steve saw it. It flashed in your eyes so quickly that he thought he had imagined it. The light in your eyes that once showed for him and only him, was now thrown at Bucky, even if it was just for a second. And in return, Bucky’s eyes showed the same brightness, a light pink flushing his face.

The coffee mug he held in his hand snapped, its contents spilling all over the table. He didn’t realize his hands were fists or that his jaw was snapped shut as he clenched it. His hands pricked as he continued to stare at you two. Your hand reached out to the super soldier's face, and your lips deposited a small kiss on his cheek.

Steve heard another breaking noise, except this time it came from his chest.

The second time he saw was months later.

Steve Rogers would never describe himself as a guy who likes to go out at night. He didn’t do dancing. It wasn’t like it used to be, the music had another rhythm, his body wasn’t in sync with it. He didn’t do clubs either. There were always too many people in them, the sea of bodies made him feel like he was drowning. He couldn’t even get drunk, the only thing that got him to that state was the Asgardian liquor Thor had gifted him

He had his exceptions, though.

That night you had taken him to a club, that first night when everything started. It was his first time inside a club, having previously only attended Tony's extravagant parties. Those were bearable, he was surrounded by people he knew (at least some of them), and the vast space of the penthouse was big enough for him to be able to step away without anyone noticing.

With you, however, he had been able to dance in the middle of the sea without a care. Your hips swayed to the music, your own body displaying a symphony of movements that made his heartbeat accelerate. His hands moved before his brain could react, landing on the side of your hips. His memories of that night were ones that he would never forget.

Tonight was another one of those exceptions.

She wanted to go out. For a couple of weeks she had been nagging asking about it, not taking a no for an answer. Finding the whole conversation repetitive and annoying, he finally caved in today.

However, he left out an important detail.

He had heard Sam and Bucky talking in the hallways. He didn’t mean to, as he was making his way to the elevator, and he just happened to pick up the conversation. For what he had gathered, you had invited them to go out with you to a nightclub called Temptation Paradise. He thought about leaving, not wanting to intrude more. But Sam's throwing of your name kept him in his place.

"You do need to step up your game," Sam chuckled.

He heard Bucky’s metallic arm flexing. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that you gotta dress to impress her man. And do something with your hair, with all the black clothes and long hair on your face, you look kinda depressing."

"Fuck you."

Sam laughed. "No, but I mean it. She’s a beautiful single woman, emphasis on the single, in the middle of the dancefloor. You think no one will shoot their shot with her?"

Sam’s words had made him decide that tonight was the night. He had managed to discreetly suggest to her that they go to the same place, about half an hour after you arrived there. The excitement she felt almost made him feel guilty, but once again he decided to be selfish. Just one more time.

A group of her friends had gone with them. Part of him was relieved because they would be a good distraction for her while he looked for you. He told the group he was going to get a drink, scurrying away before they could ask him to bring them some too.

He hated it. Once again, the sea of people made his chest tighten, body parts bumping and grinding against him as he tried to make his way towards the bar. The ambiance of the place was too dark and sensual for the amount of anxiety he was feeling.

He spent twenty minutes looking for you. His whisky was almost done, as he had given up hope. Maybe something had happened, and you weren’t even there. Maybe you'd already gone home with someone. He put the glass on the bar, leaving a tip for the bartender.

It had all been for nothing, and now shame filled him. It was a stupid idea to try and follow you just because of the possibility you might get together with someone tonight. What was he going to do even if it happened? It wasn’t like he could step up and stop anything from happening. He didn’t have any claim over you, and if you were to find out what he had done, you would’ve probably slapped him. He was an idiot.

But he heard it.

A laugh. Your laugh.

Steve felt like he was in a movie. Time had slowed for him, and your shape had become more distinct to him as people moved around the dance floor. Your eyes were closed as you danced along with the music, the lighting of the place dimming until he could barely see anyone around him. Blue and red flashes kissed your skin, the artificial lights dancing all over the place.

You looked beautiful.

His feet moved for him. He wanted to touch you, place himself behind you as you kept swaying your hips around. He wanted to feel the heat from your body against his chest, your ass grinding on his crotch. He wanted you.

Until he saw a hand wrapping around your stomach. Strong fingers moved through your body in the same way that his had done a few years ago. They rested on your stomach for a couple of seconds before they started traveling up your body. Bucky’s figure came into the light, pressing you tighter against him. His head was low enough to whisper something in your ear.

Steve left the club without looking back.

The last and third time happened a couple of weeks later.

It was true that New York is a city that never sleeps. The streets were still filled with light coming from the many billboards and signs that covered the buildings that surrounded the streets. The rain that poured down onto the streets was stopped by his black umbrella, one that was big enough to cover two people. The dark red carnations he held on to his chest remained dry.

Nighttime walks had become a routine for him. His restless thoughts didn’t allow him to shut off his brain, no matter how hard he tried. He caught himself walking toward your office a couple of times, his subconscious remembering the nights he had that routine. He tried to avoid it, walking in the opposite direction every time he noticed it, but his heart wasn’t as strong as he thought. He bought the flowers before he could even stop to think about it.

As he kept walking, he saw your office building ahead, still a few blocks away. Steve had gotten so into his head that perhaps he couldn’t tell you how sorry he was, but he could still try to show you. He remembered the days you left late at night, Friday being the usual one, as you wanted to leave everything ready for when you came back. A flash of hurt installed itself in his heart as he remembered he had not been picking you up in the final months of your relationship, his own mind too consumed by his ex’s return.

He had let you walk the lonely, dark streets alone.

But the past was the past, he couldn’t do anything to change it. He was half a block away when he saw you going down the stairs, a large black coat covering your frame. Your usual heels were replaced by boots. He remembered you kept a pair in your office for cold, rainy days like these.

His steps faltered, and his heart stammered in his chest. He was nervous about how you would react to him showing up unexpectedly, but more than anything, the unknown feelings kept coming back every time he thought about you. He didn’t know what they meant, but it seemed as if they intensified whenever you came around.

With a deep breath, he pulled himself together. This was his chance to prove himself, and hopefully it was enough to keep you in his life. He was ready to face you.

Except you weren’t alone.

A figure he hadn’t noticed before approached you. For a moment, he thought the man was going to attack you until he saw your smile. It was the type of smile you gave someone you were fond of. The type of smile that makes the edges of your eyes crinkle. It was warm and welcoming.

It was the type of smile you used to give him.

He hid himself behind a vehicle, wanting to watch the interaction more without risking being caught. Who was this man who made you laugh so hard and hugged you so tightly that he noticed the hug was a second longer than it should have been?

Fortunately, or rather, unfortunately for him, the man took off his hoodie.

Jealousy was a bitter emotion. The pain in his chest and the rage that made his fists clench were too much for him to bear. The carnations he had been holding close were destroyed, their red petals falling to the ground and being carried away by the streams of rain.

Your arms entwined as Bucky opened an umbrella to protect you from the weather. He heard your laugh as you rested your head on his arm, your body searching for warmth from his best friend. You walked away, making plans for the night.

It was like he was never part of your life.

He was watching you fall in love with someone else. He was being forced by destiny and his own hand to witness how your heart forgot him.

Steve should’ve realized sooner that things were not the same .

At first, it was the little things.

It wasn’t only her apartment that he found odd, nor was it the furniture or the decoration. It wasn’t just the material things that made him feel out of place. It was the way she would brush his hair with her fingers, the pattern she made wasn’t the one he had gotten used to. Or the way she would kiss his neck, her lips didn’t find the place that could make him shiver anymore. It was also the way she smelled, her scent didn’t bring him relief when he hugged her.

Then he realized how much he disliked it when she left a mess behind when she came home. Or the way she would repeat her anecdotes when she forgot she already told them in the first place. Her laugh had lost its endearing tone, and now he could only hear how loud and frenetic it was.

It was her perfume, her clothes, her smile, the way she said "I love you," the way she would embrace him, the things she liked, the way her leg would bounce when she was nervous, her eyes.

Her eyes weren’t the ones he would dream about.

Every night those damned eyes would visit him. And every night, even if it was for just a few seconds, he would lose himself in them. He had seen them so many times that now his sketchbook was filled with them. He thought it would help him get rid of the image from his mind.

Almost three months had passed since he last saw them outside of his dreams. He had to give it to you. You were effective when you wanted to avoid someone. The meetings you had weren’t that frequent in the first place, but, as you had made it your life goal to never be alone with him in the same place, your only meetings were when Sam and Bucky were around. You had stated that this was a more efficient way. Steve wasn’t fond of efficiency ever since.

Even in the rare occasions he could see you, it wasn’t the same. He could only see snippets of the person you used to be, each time less and less as you forgot what you had once felt for him.

But Steve missed more than just your eyes. He missed the way you made him laugh, your sense of humor always had him gasping for air, his stomach hurting as he held it with his hand. He also missed how good of a listener you were. Even as you kept quiet, you had a way to let him know you paid attention to every word he said.

In all honesty, you were the first one he went to whenever everything else in the world seemed too much. He initially assumed it was because he needed to feel your love, his selfishness overpowering his rational mind. Except that the more he returned, the more he realized it was you he craved.

For almost two years, he had you.

And for almost two years he could’ve been happy, if he had allowed himself to.

Anger.

Steve could only feel anger as time passed after that night. The irrational part of him had taken over as a deep sense of despair settled into his daily life. Those unknown feelings you caused plagued his soul, he couldn’t escape them anymore. He couldn’t pretend they didn’t exist, the more he tried, the deeper the hurt.

His own relationship was crumbling apart. There were days they couldn’t stay in the same room, unable to bear each other’s presence. There were nights he couldn’t bear to have her in her arms as they lay down, her touch felt so foreign. Sometimes he couldn’t even text her back. Being with her didn’t feel like a choice anymore, it felt like duty.

At first Steve had thought it was him the one that caused all the problems, his new found obsession with you taking over his thoughts. His mind and heart didn’t belong to him, they didn’t even belong to her anymore.

They were yours. They had always been yours.

But it wasn’t only himself the one that had changed. He saw it in her too, even when they first got back together. Her smile wasn't as genuine as she pretended, and her touch wasn't as loving as she intended. She had tried, though. He could see how much she tried to hold onto who they once were, even going so far as to recreate one of their memories of the past.

The memories were good, but the present couldn’t live up to them.

So, like any couple who refuses to admit their own shortcomings, they attempted to fix everything with sex.

That’s how they got to where they were tonight. The bed in her apartment creaked as he kept pounding into her. He had a firm grip on her hips, possibly enough to bruise her skin, but neither of them cared at this point. They wanted to forget, no matter the cost.

Her whines filled the room. The noises he had heard many times before accentuated his movements, they let him read her easily enough to know that he was doing a good job.

Except that the more Steve kept hearing them, the deeper the hole in his chest grew. He couldn’t feel anything but anger. He closed his eyes, and all he could see was Bucky’s hands around your waist. He noticed your smile, the way you caressed his hand when you thought no one was looking.

He saw the way you cared about him, the tenderness in your touch and your words as you chatted in the corner of the room. He saw everything.

Tears prickled his eyes. His pace was increasing not only in rhythm but also in strength. This was the only way he could forget, and not even now was he able to shut you out. But he was tired. He wasn’t sure he could hold on much longer.

Why couldn’t he stop feeling?

Then it all came crashing down. His eyes closed, and he decided to embrace his thoughts.

"Steve," she moaned.

"Steve! Someone’s going to see us," you laughed. His hands groped your ass as he lifted your legs to his waist.

"Let them see. I want them to know you’re mine."

"Don’t stop, baby."

"You think we could ever just leave everything behind and go somewhere?" you asked. Your eyes were fixed on the window of your apartment. Small droplets of water crashed against the crystal.

His hands found yours, his head found its place on your shoulder.

"Any time you ask, I’ll drop everything to go with you."

"I’m so close."

"I need more." Your voice trembled. Your hands shook as you poured out your heart to him. Your left hand clung to his. "I can’t keep going like this. I can’t keep pretending we’re just friends"

His words died at his throat. He knew this day would come, he had expected it since that first night. He had rehearsed what he would say, how he would let you know he just wanted a casual relationship. No feelings attached.

He wasn’t prepared for the sad look in your eyes, though. Or how broken they looked once he gave you an answer,

"I’m sorry. I can’t."

"Keep going. Please."

"No, please!" he pleaded. His mind was racing as he tried to stop you from hanging up. "Please don’t leave. Your coworkers told me you’re going with Bucky to his press tour today, but I want to see you. I need to see you."

He couldn’t let you go, not like that. Because he knew that once you embarked on the tour, there was no turning back. Your departure meant things would change, he would completely lose you. He wanted to explain. He needed to make you understand. He never meant to hurt you as much as he did, but he did it anyway.

"Stay, please."

You had to stay, because no matter how hard he tried to keep you at arm's length, you still meant a lot to him. For the past two years, you have made him as happy as he could be. Your selfless way of loving had made its home in the place where his heart had been. He wasn’t ready to let that part go.

You had to stay because you loved him. And if life had taught him anything, it was that no matter what happens, you fight. You keep fighting for the ones that mattered and the ones you loved. He wanted you to fight for him.

"No"

His eyes snapped open.

Her moans made him look down. He could feel her orgasm gripping on his cock, himself close enough to his. But once again, his mind played tricks, and the blond hair and blue eyes that belonged to the woman he had once loved were gone. He saw yours.

It hurt. His heart was in pain. The crushing reality of his feelings left him breathless. He was ready to accept them. He was ready to open Pandora's box.

"I love you," he whispered.

Your eyes looked back at him, and he saw them as they were in his dreams. They were loving him back.

His head lowered to your ear. "I love you. God, I fucking love you."

He couldn’t stop saying it. As soon as those three words left his mouth, he felt like he could breathe again. The burden he had been carrying for so long was finally lifted from his shoulders.

"I love you."

"I’ll never let you go, not again."

"I’m sorry. I love you."

"I love you."

"I have always loved you."

Then, your voice filled his ears and his heart.

"I love you too."

He came inside you. Your arms engulfed him in a hug, your legs rested on his hips as he tried to control his own breathing. His nose nuzzled your neck, and the warmth from your body felt like home.

Steve loved you. Deeply. Passionately. Wholeheartedly.

But once the ecstasy of the moment left his body, the hands that drew circles on his back weren’t yours anymore. She didn’t smell like you. She wasn’t you. He didn’t love her anymore. He loved you.

He had always loved you.

A knock on your door surprised you. Your hands reached for your remote, pausing the movie you were watching. At first, you thought you had imagined it. It was late at night, and you weren’t expecting company. Bucky had told you he would be away for a couple of days as he had to go on a mission, and he was the only one who came to you this late at night. It was probably someone knocking on the neighbors' door, or the wind knocking over something.

But another knock on the door made you jump. Your heart rose to your throat. Who the hell was that? Their knocks were desperate, whoever was knocking surely had an emergency.

"I’m going! I’m going! Stop knocking on the fucking door." You yelled while putting your shoes on.

The constant sound of the knuckles hitting the door was getting on your nerves. With a strong pull, you finally opened the door, ready to yell at whoever was so inappropriately coming to your house so late at night.

"Hey."

It was Steve.

You froze for a second. Of all the people you imagined could be waiting behind the door, he was never an option that crossed your mind. Those blue eyes that you had once loved were staring back at you.

Steve was there. At your door.

Steve ‘The asshole’ Rogers.

You snapped out of it. The grip on your door tightened before you tried to close it on his face. His hand stopped you from doing it.

"Wait." Your body kept pushing against the door, although it probably felt like nothing to the dickhead of a super soldier that was outside your apartment. With a sigh, you let the door go, allowing it to be opened again.

"What do you want?" Your words sounded harsher than you intended too, but you didn’t back away from them. He deserved them after all.

"I— Can we talk?"

You should’ve closed the door in his face again. You should’ve told him to go fuck himself again, just like you had done many months ago. But the anger that consumed you back then was mitigated. You weren’t even sure if you were angry at all, but the defense mechanisms you had clung to were still telling you to run away. They were telling you he was only there to cause you pain.

But the man who had broken your heart wasn’t the same as the one who was standing in front of you. This Steve was tired, he looked like he hadn’t slept in a couple of days. The small wrinkles around his eyes deepened too. And for some reason, he reminded you of how you looked eight months ago, the morning after the gala.

He had his heart broken.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to hear him.

The evil, vindictive side of you was curious about what had brought him to you in this state. Who had hurt him so badly that he had come with such urgency to your door in the middle of the night? But another part, the mature and healing part of you knew this conversation was due. You didn’t have to do this for him, but for yourself. There were still so many things left unsaid from your side, and, as Bucky had said, sometimes you need to get those things out to fully heal.

"Fine." you grunted.

Both of you were standing in your kitchen. The contrast of things were between you a year ago and how they were now almost made you laugh. A year ago you didn’t think anyone would make you as happy as Steve. Now, you didn’t think anyone could hurt you as much as him.

"How have you been?"

You chuckled at his superficial question. Of course he would try to start with small talk instead of going straight to the point.

"Good." You took a sip of your water. "You?"

He shrugged. "As good as I can be"

"Why are you here, Steve?"

Your question took him by surprise. His gaze was fixed on the floor, his hands fiddling with the bracelet he was wearing. After taking a deep breath, he cleared his throat and looked you in the eyes.His nervousness made you nervous, forming knots in your stomach. His silence was making you spiral.

He apologized, as you knew he had been waiting for a long time.

"I’m sorry for hurting you. I wish I could go back in time and erase all of this. You didn’t deserve any of it."

"You were the best thing that happened to me in a long time. I’m sorry I was too stuck in the past to see it."

" I know you hate me, but you can’t hate me more than I hate myself for hurting you."

Hearing his words made you feel something. You didn’t want to admit it, but it felt good. You knew all of this, as you had made peace with yourself and decided that the only thing you were guilty of was staying. But deep down, hearing them was the last thing you needed to let go.

His words brought peace.

Until he opened his mouth again.

"I fell in love with you, I don’t know when or how, but one day I woke up and realized that I already loved you."

"I’ve loved you since the very beginning. I close my eyes and the only thing I can think about is you, the way you smile, the way you laugh, the way you make me feel."

"I broke up with her. I couldn’t stay with her, not when it was you in my heart."

"I love you"

He said them. The words you had begged him to say for two years were finally directed at you. You expected to be overjoyed, even ecstatic, when this day arrived. You would finally be happy.

Who would’ve thought that words of love would bring so much pain?

His love wasn’t what you expected. You thought it would be comforting, warm, and welcoming. Instead, it burned you. It suffocated you. It drowned you, each time a little more, as he kept repeating his feelings for you.

Steve didn’t know how to love, he only knew how to cause pain.

"And what the fuck do you want me to do about it?"

Steve flinched. "I don’t—"

"You broke my heart. I loved you with everything I had, I gave you everything and more, and even then it wasn’t enough," you said, wiping away the tears that ran down your face. You didn't even realize you were crying. "You used me as a sort of emotional replacement while you were still in love with her. You fucked her minutes after you kissed me in front of everyone. And you said those awful things too." You couldn’t stop your words, the words that were never said. "Then you have the balls to call me nonstop, text me, send gifts, and even beg me to stay the day I left with Bucky while you were already back with her. And now, months later, you tell me you’ve loved me all along and broke up with your girlfriend? What kind of bullshit is that?"

You couldn’t stay there. Your kitchen now seemed to shrink as you felt the walls closing around you. This was too much. He was too much. You pushed past him, the main door calling your name as a lifesaver. "Leave, leave, leave," your brain kept repeating. This time, you listened to it.

A big hand stopped your escape.

"Don’t touch me." you hissed at him. The sadness in his eyes deepened with your words, but your sympathy for him was long gone. Now he was the victim?. ""God, do you know how bad you fucked me up?" You pushed him with all your strength. You wanted to slap him, you wanted him to feel how deeply he had reached your mind. How were you never going to really be able to get rid of him.

"I can’t even think of starting something new with someone else because all I can think of is what if?

What if one day he wakes up and realizes he doesn’t really love me, that he loves someone else?

What if he breaks my heart the same way you did it?

What if he doesn’t love me the same way I do?

And it’s all your fault."

The echo of your words was all that was left after your speech. You hated how easily he could make you lose control of your emotions, how easy it was for him to cut deep into you. You had forgotten the rollercoaster of emotions that meant having Steve in your life, and now that you were back in it you could say you didn’t miss it.

"It’s Bucky, isn’t it?"

Your head snapped back at him.

"What?"

"Your what if. It's him, isn’t it?"

She recognized the sound of heartbreak when she heard it. His voice was filled with it.

"Yes."

He took a step back as if you had slapped him. You could see all the signs, going from denial to painful acceptance. You wondered if he felt the same way you had felt when you saw them together. Given, you weren't fucking Bucky right in front of him, but in theory, everything was the same.He loved you, but you loved someone else.

"I’ll never get you back, will I?"

You wanted to chuckle, he still had hope. But for both your sakes, you had to extinguish that ray of hope. Honesty was all it took to kill it.

"I don’t think I could be with you without hating myself a little bit for it."

It took a couple of minutes for both of you to compose yourselves. Your apartment had seen a war where two hearts had been broken again and again, yet everything seemed to be in place. Steve cleared his throat, motioning towards the door.

"I think it’s better if I go now." You opened the door, stepping aside to let him walk out of your place. "I’ll see you around."

You were ready to close the door when Steve's voice called for you.

"You think we could ever be friends again?"

You gave him a sad smile. "We weren’t really friends to begin with."

This time, you closed the door without looking back. Your chest still hurt, and your eyes felt sore from all the crying. But amongst all the sadness that the memories brought back, you smiled.

You were finally free.

"Hey"

Bucky’s eyes lift up from the report he’s writing. His heart stammered in his chest before he could speak. You are standing at the office door in a black sweatshirt and pants. There were a couple of droplets of sweat running down the side of your face, and your breathing is irregular.

His first thought was that something bad had happened. He had just gotten back no longer than half an hour ago, he had texted you about his arrival, and your lack of response made him think you were busy. Something had to be wrong for you to run all the way here.

But the shy smile on your face and the excitement that radiates from you change his mind.

"Hey," he mutters, his mind not being able to come up with something more playful or flirtatious as he usually did.

There’s something different about you, though. There’s something new in the way you look at him and in the way you stand. For so many months, he had to see you bear this weight, this darkness that seemed to suffocate your soul. He had been able to pull away the darkness a couple of times, but as you stand right in front of him, you look as if it was never a part of you.

Bucky notices how it takes you a second to say something, they way your hands grip on the frame of the door and he could hear your heart fighting to break free from your chest.

"Is that dinner date still on the table?"

His heart stops.

"I—Yeah, it is."

You smile at him beautifully. Bucky thinks that he has never seen anything more mesmerizing than your smile.

"Good. Pick me up at seven."

If you like the story please interact: reblogs, likes and comments go a long way. Feedback is always appreciated!

A/N: It's finally here! I hope you guys enjoy it and sorry it took longer than I thought it would.

Requests are OPEN

Tag list: @captainson-of-coul @imyourbratzdoll @kneelforloki

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers x you #captain america fic #steve rogers x y/n #captain america fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #steve angst #mcu fanfiction #steve x reader #steve smut #steve x you #steve x y/n #avengers fic

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laxmiree · 1 month

Text

[CN] MLQC’s Lucien Sharing Date English Translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

Perhaps it's an illusion, but after he removes his glasses, those eyes that have always been looking at me seem even deeper.

With my soft exclamation, the already close distance becomes even more intimate, not leaving any gap.

His lowered lashes tremble lightly, brushing against my cheeks like butterfly wings.

His hot breath lingers on the corner of my lips for a while before finally enveloping it eagerly.

special thanks to ivi (@ivioivioivi on twitter) for helping me with translating some abstract things here 🫶

✂———————–

—[Part 1]—

The lecture hall is almost full, filled with students from the Film and Television Department of Loveland University.

Due to my previous programs consistently ranking first in viewership, universities' Film and Television Department often use them as case studies.

However, it's the first time today that both the production team and I have been invited to campus to give a sharing session.

Even though I've attended many events and ceremonies, as a behind-the-scenes person, I still feel a bit nervous under so many attentive gazes.

MC: Hello students, I'm MC.

Noticing a subtle unease in my tone, I can't help but recall the solemn vow that I made last night.

—[Flashback Start]—

MC: As long as I step onto the same podium where Professor Lucien once stood, I'll surely have the same demeanor as you!

Seeing me confidently waving the speech notes, Lucien couldn't help but chuckle.

Lucien: I'm curious, in your eyes, what kind of demeanor do I have?

MC: Of course you're someone who is both patient and effortlessly competent, and able to make complex concepts lively and engaging. In short, you're simply the best teacher in the world!

He gently gazed at me for a moment and then pulled me into his arms.

Lucien: [chuckles] If this biased classmate really were my student, my evaluations would probably become the highest in the whole school.

MC: What! The original highest score wasn't yours?

My exaggerated tone amused him, and Lucien rubbed my hair.

Lucien: If the Great Producer keeps showering me with praise like this, I might not be able to resist feeling proud.

Lucien: After the poster for the sharing session was put up, many colleagues came to greet me because of this outstanding family member*.

(T/N: his colleagues refer to MC as XM/Lucien's family🥺)

MC: So it seems that the reason I agreed at that time was very correct~

Facing his curious gaze, I winked at him.

MC: Because that was the invitation sent by your school.

—[Flashback Ends]—

Looking down at the audience below once more, I steady my mind.

Just as I'm about to speak, I hear a familiar voice.

??: Sorry, teacher, I'm late. Can I still come in and listen now?

MC: Of course—

Unwittingly, I glance towards the classroom door, my eyes widen in surprise when I see Lucien.

The classroom buzzes with murmurs, as the students have also recognized him.

Lucien: Thank you, teacher. Sorry to interrupt everyone.

I stare dumbfoundedly as he approaches and calmly places a piece of paper on the podium.

Lucien: My late slip.

MC: Ah, okay…

Not until he steps down to find an empty seat do I notice that the completely blank late slip is covered with a sticky note-

-filled with a drawing of a little rabbit on the lectern talking eloquently, and in the audience seat, a little fox applauds with a smile on his eyes.

I can't help but look up at him, seeing that he has already found a seat and is quietly gazing at me.

The distance between us isn't close, but his gaze has already dispelled most of my unease.

So I collected myself and took out my speech notes.

MC: I originally wanted to chat with everyone, but our department head wouldn't allow it, so I had to prepare a speech.

A wave of friendly laughter ripples through the audience, completely easing my nerves.

Very soon, I smoothly finished speaking according to the notes.

MC: ...Actually, the birth of every successful case is influenced by many uncontrollable variables.

MC: Even if we as creators replicate the so-called “speak from experience”, it may not necessarily generate new successful cases.

MC: In the end, I think sharing some practical insights is better.

MC: I often feel that filming is similar to life, it's a process of establishing a stable relationship with the world.

MC: And some specific yet small orders will bring us a sense of certainty about life and becoming an important part of life.

MC: If you don't know what to shoot, you can look within your own world.

MC: Taking myself as an example, like... the flower shop that opens at 8 a.m. near my home. And also...

As I speak, I look at the audience, meeting head-on the gaze that has never shifted.

There is an itch in my heart, always wanting to express something. Before I know it, I've already put down the speech notes--

MC: [smiling softly] The light from my neighbor's house next door often stays on until 4 a.m.

✂———————–

—[Part 2]—

Amidst the continuous applause, Lucien beamingly applauds, bearing a striking resemblance to the little fox on the sticky note.

At this moment, the dean beside me suddenly leans in, lowering their voice as they speak.

Dean: MC, you delivered your speech too smoothly. Here's the bad news: there are still 20 minutes left before class ends.

MC: [sweating nervously] Ah? What should I do? Do you have anything else you want to say?

Seeing him shake his head, my brain starts to work at lightning speed, and suddenly, I think of something.

MC: Since we're out of things to say, we'll just have to let the students speak.

The next moment, a student stood up bewildered as we called their name.

Dean: Everyone, feel free to express your thoughts. Share your feelings after attending the sharing session.

Student A: Oh! I found Teacher MC's talk very interesting. I've also been pondering about some small "orders" just now.

Student A: Like the video call my mom makes every night and the taro ice cream that the school convenience store restocks every Thursday afternoon at three.

Laughter instantly fills the room, as if this were a well-known understanding among everyone.

Immediately, several students also raise their hands, eager to join the conversation.

Student B: When spring arrives, the peach blossoms on the campus will bloom the earliest.

Student C: There's an old librarian who likes to blow his beard, it turns out he's stuck on sudoku.

This time, everyone fell silent for a moment, emitting small gasps of surprise.

Student C: Because of the old man's habit of blowing his beard, I made a documentary about him... but the film lacked soul.

Student C: So I want to ask, how do you find something worth expressing?

I think for a moment before speaking earnestly.

MC: The best way I can think of is to ask yourself what you most want to express from your heart.

MC: Once you have the answer, you will discover that it may have just been sustaining the order you rely on the most to survive right now.*

MC: It's also the closest connection between you and this world—

MC: At that moment, many natural words or images will appear before you effortlessly.

(T/N: tbh it's really abstract even in CN LOL, but I take from it that perhaps what you want to express is already on the orders in your life all along? Keep this in mind until the last part)

I instinctively glance at Lucien and notice the corners of his eyes slowly curving.

Student C: Can you give an example?

MC: Um?

Perhaps the answer was too clear before my eyes, and in that moment, I hesitated instead.

As I realize, I've already missed the opportune moment for the best response, and I can't help but feel a bit embarrassed.

And the person in my line of sight seems to have chuckled, raising his hand.

Lucien: I'd like to share something too.

As soon as these words were spoken, students turned their curious gazes towards him, and I also waited nervously for his speech.

Lucien: I feel that, often, before finding the expression, perhaps it's the order itself that takes precedence in life.

Lucien: After you become aware of it, it has already brought about natural habits and rules.

Lucien: Therefore, for me, perhaps the modification and alteration of the order itself appear to be more special. The things born from it make people want to dig and explore deeper.

Lucien: For example, the hot milk that always appears when I write a paper, or the scolding I received for not sleeping, which seems to have started at some unknown point…

Even as I try to control my expression, I still feel my cheeks getting a little warm.

The instigator, however, seemed oblivious to my shyness, unabashedly casting an eager gaze my way.

Lucien: Teacher MC, if all the orders of life point to one person at the same time, then wouldn't her existence—

Lucien: Be tantamount to the closest connection between me and this world?

✂———————–

—[Part 3]—

The meeting ends, and after saying goodbye to my colleagues, I decide to take a walk around campus with Lucien.

I'm still immersed in the confession that only we knew a moment ago. Even my steps feel a bit light.

Lucien: You seem to have more talent for being a teacher than I imagined.

Lucien: If I had a teacher like you when I was studying, I would definitely sit in the front row every class.

Lucien: Would this teacher choose me as the class representative?

As he speaks seriously, I pretend to consider.

MC: Hmm... I'll think about it.

He nods thoughtfully, but a smile slowly appears in his eyes.

Lucien: So, to become the class representative, it seems I need to pay more attention to the teacher.

Lucien: [teasingly] Your face seems to have been flushed since I raised my hand to answer the question. Are you feeling uncomfortable?

Colliding with his narrowed smiling eyes, I blush and playfully poke his arm.

MC: Lucien!

Lucien: [chuckles] It seems that the teacher has already remembered my name.

Seeing his pretending-to-be-serious expression, I can't help but laugh.

Lucien: Moreover, it seems you set an example for me first.

I raise my puzzled gaze, then collide with his slightly teasing smiling eyes.

Lucien: After all, it was teacher MC who mentioned me first.

Lucien: It appears that I didn't realize I had become part of your order so long ago.

MC: ….!

I belatedly react, embarrassedly wanting to reach out and cover his mouth.

He chuckles softly and catches my hand, squeezing it into his palm.

Hand in hand, we walk through the campus, bathed in the gentle light filtering through the trees, softly resting upon us.

Occasionally, students pass by us, heading in the same direction.

The moment I curiously glance in that direction, he already grasps my hand, leading me towards it knowingly.

Ten minutes later, standing at the entrance of the convenience store, we look at the taro ice cream in each other's hands and laugh together.

Despite the slight chill in the air, I eagerly take a big bite, instantly filled with the soft, sweet flavor of taro.

MC: No wonder it can become an unspoken understanding among everyone, it's just too delicious!

Lucien also takes a bite of the ice cream, his eyes widening slightly.

Lucien: [gasps in a pleasant surprise] It's a bit cold... but indeed the taste exceeds imagination.

MC: But it seems quite popular on campus. You've never tried it before?

He shakes his head, then as if something catches his eye, he lifts his hand and gently rests it on the top of my head.

Lucien: Although there are indeed many beauties in this world that I have yet to discover…

Lucien: They always seem to be miraculously brought to me by you.

He opens his palm towards me, revealing a pale pink petal lying inside, probably the one he just picked from the top of my head.

I raise my head, and several peach blossoms hanging from the branches come into view.

Realizing that the scenes shared by the students seem to be coincidentally unfolding before us, I look at Lucien with some excitement.

MC: How about we go to the library again and see that old man who loves to do Sudoku?

Unfortunately, the one sitting at the librarian's desk in the reading room is a young girl.

MC: Looks like the old man isn't on duty today…

Sensing my gaze, the girl looks back at me with a puzzled expression.

I instinctively turn to the side, then immediately hear a muffled chuckle from above.

Lucien: [chuckles] Are you forgetting that you* have always had the right to come and go here?

MC: Right…

[T/N: Actually, Lucien teasingly refers to MC as 教师家属 (teacher’s family member) in that sentence. Anyway since he’s a teacher here, and she’s his ‘family member’ she has the right to just come to the library at any time. They can find him at another time together^^]

The familiar reading room, the season of peach blossoms blooming, and the person beside me with a smile, everything seems to be no different from two years ago.

[Reference to Impression Date!]

But unlike back then, the once quiet and empty reading room is now filled with students quietly reading. I can't help but lower my voice.

MC: I don't think I asked you last time, where do you like to sit when you read?

His indifferent gaze falls lightly on the sun-drenched tables and chairs without much emotion.

Lucien: I prefer to borrow books from the third-floor lending room and read them at home rather than here.

MC: Oh? I always thought you wouldn't be picky about reading environments.

Lucien: For me, the environment indeed has little impact on the reading experience.

Lucien: However, at home, there's always a little lady who will snuggle up next to me and read together.

He pauses for a moment, looking at me earnestly.

Lucien: It's hard not to develop a sense of dependence on the comforting environment you create.

✂———————–

—[Part 4]—

MC: Wow, it's "Essays in Love"!

Just as I stepped into the lending room, I paused in front of a somewhat familiar novel.

Lucien: Mm, compared to the story in the book, I'm more impressed by MC's "kidnapping”*.

[T/N: reference to Devotion Date where MC 'kidnaps' Lucien]

He holds my hand and leads me with a smile, I haven't even taken a few steps yet when another book catches my eye.

MC: "YOUR ATOMIC SELF"? You just read it recently during the check-in event!

Lucien: Yes, I returned it after finishing. If you want to read it, there's a new copy in the study that I just bought.

We walk hand in hand through the empty shelves, and every few steps, we come across familiar traces.

MC: Hehe, this book is one we read together.

Lucien: However, after flipping through a few pages, it seems like a girl fell asleep in my arms.

MC: [sweating] Haha, it's the kind of thing you can forget about.

Lucien: [teasingly] Oh? Looks like MC isn't too curious about what happens after she falls asleep.

His lips curled a bit, as if recalling something amusing.

MC: What is it?

Lucien: Actually... [chuckles] about half an hour after you fell asleep, I fell asleep too.

MC: Pfft! If even you fell asleep, then it must be the fault of the book.

Lucien: Though it's a bit impolite to say, the author's writing does lack logical coherence.

Seeing his slightly furrowed brow and troubled expression, I suddenly felt the urge to tease him, so I struggled to suppress a smile.

MC: But I think it's impressive in its own way.

Lucien: Hm?

MC: It can be used for hypnosis~ Next time if I find you refusing to sleep, I'll just read it aloud beside you, and you'll drift off in no time.

Seemingly taking it seriously, he even pondered for a moment before speaking.

Lucien: [chuckles] But the feasibility of this method is not very high.

MC: Why?

Lucien: After all, it seems like you'd get sleepy before managing to lull me to sleep.

Seeing him speak earnestly, but his eyes already betraying laughter, I can't help but laugh along with him.

The clock hanging on the wall quietly completes a full circle as we step into the innermost section of the document area.

Scholarly journals written in various languages are neatly arranged on the bookshelves, bringing together a vast ocean of wisdom.

Suddenly, I remembered something and looked at him with a hint of anticipation.

MC: I remember you recently published a paper in a core journal. Can we find it here too?

Lucien: Nowadays, many publications are distributed in electronic formats. I'm not sure if the library would have hard copies.

His gaze wanders through the dizzying array of titles for a long time, seemingly without finding anything.

So he walks over to the search computer, typing the journal's name on the keyboard, and after hitting the enter key, he squints a little at the screen.

Lucien: [chuckles] Found it.

MC: Huh? They have even the newest ones. Can I find the article you published earlier too?

Five minutes later, I find myself dazedly staring at the thick journals in my arms.

MC: Even though I know about every paper you've published, seeing them all together still makes me want to marvel at your brain…

MC: Can I absorb some of your wisdom by reading these articles?

Lucien: I don't think so.

With a lingering inflection, he leans down slightly and pecks my lips.

Lucien: [chuckles, then whispers] But maybe this way you can.

His earnest demeanor makes it impossible for me to suppress a smile.

MC: Hehe, with Professor Lucien sharing his wisdom with me, I'll definitely be able to read research papers with ease in the future!

As I speak, I flip through the pages and quickly find Lucien's article among them.

Unfamiliar foreign languages and complex technical terms occasionally trip me up as I read, but it doesn't stop me from carefully perusing the text bit by bit.

In his concise and clear theories, it feels like I can see every dull piece of data he recorded and every sleepless night he endured.

And there's also that curiosity that never extinguished, even after countless failed attempts.

Merely watching him moving forward fills me with immense pride.

Unconsciously, I reach the end of the paper, and suddenly, I feel as though I see my name flash before my eyes.

I calm myself and carefully read through the last section once again.

The next moment, as my gaze flicks over the acknowledgments section, I feel my heart skip a beat.

There, my own name actually appears-

And finally, I would like to thank my dear (y/n)-

--whose love and support has always been the driving force pushing me forward.

I stare at him in disbelief, but he just looks at me and smiles.

Having a faint idea of what's going on, I proceed to flip through several other journals.

Without exception, there's a line of acknowledgment dedicated to me after each of his articles.

An indescribable surge of emotions overwhelms me, leaving me momentarily speechless, but he instantly pulls me into his arms with a chuckle.

Lucien: [chuckles, then whispers] What to do.

Lucien: Seeing my little lady so surprised, it seems I can't easily showcase my research results in the future.

His pretended distress amuses me, and I lightly pat him on the shoulder.

MC: You know very well that I'm very happy.

He pulls me into his hug, his chin rubbing against the top of my head.

Lucien: [whispers softly] Um, of course I do.

Lucien: [x2] It's just that seeing you happy because of me, I can't help but feel happy too.

MC: You never mentioned it before.

He looks into my eyes as if trying to see into my heart.

Lucien: [x3] Just like eating and sleeping every day, I don't seem to feel that this is something necessary to mention specifically.

Lucien: [x4] Just as you appear in every corner of my life…

Lucien: [x5] I naturally think of you in the moment of completing an article, and naturally want to express thank you to you.

Lucien: [x6] This natural feeling…

Lucien: [x7]...is like when spring arrives, flowers will naturally bloom.

My heart feels like it's being gently tickled by his whispers, making me unable to resist any longer, so I stand on tiptoe and kiss him.

The next moment, he gently lifts me up, quietly closing the distance between us.

The gauze curtains sway, casting a touch of charm onto the light and shadow falling upon us.

Perhaps it's an illusion, but after he removes his glasses, those eyes that have always been looking at me seem even deeper.

I stare at his handsome features in a trance, unaware of the sudden strength supporting my lower back.

With my soft exclamation, the already close distance becomes even more intimate, not leaving any gap.

His lowered lashes tremble lightly, brushing against my cheeks like butterfly wings.

I have to close my eyes so that my heart doesn't beat too chaotically.

His hot breath lingers on the corner of my lips for a while before finally enveloping it eagerly.

The pleasant breath gradually penetrates my lips and mouth, and then spreads all over my body, making me completely surrender myself to him.

In my hazy consciousness, I faintly hear the sound of flowers blooming.

My next spring with him- really seems to have arrived.

#he's the ceiling for saphiosexuality fr #to think that he's been doing it FOR YEARS without mentioning anything abt it????#it being something so natural as sleeping and eating :“”#mlqc lucien #mr love queen's choice #mlqc cn #mlqc spoiler #mlqc #mlqc translation #mr. love queen's choice #mr love lucien #mlqc xu mo #mlqc spoilers

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theearthwassoup · 1 year

Note

4 and 5 from angst 3 from fluff wanda x reader angst with happy ending maybe reader thinks wanda is cheating on her because she’s distant and hiding things but really wanda is just planning to propose

yellow rose, diamond ring

a/n: hi! Thank you so much for this request!! Angst, angst, angst, i could read/write it all day lol, also so sorry for the late post

word count: 1.7k

warning(s): miscommunication | mentions of cheating | insecurity | happy ending

4: “don’t lie to me” 5: “am i not important to you anymore” 3: “i can’t imagine a world in which i don’t adore you”

You were getting tired of this, tired of the pain, the distance. Leaning against the counter, you stared aimlessly at the smooth marble, a hint of your reflection staring back at you. Wanda left about an hour ago for some work meeting but by the way she smiled at her phone and walked out the door with a wistful look in her eye, you knew she wasn’t going to work. She had been acting like this for a while now, taking forever to answer your texts, not answering your calls, running late for your dates. Combined, her actions sent a sinking feeling into your gut and you bit on your knuckle to keep your sobs at bay.

Maybe you had done something wrong? Was there something you said that pushed her into the comfort of another’s arms?

You realized she had forgotten that tonight was movie night, a somewhat sacred tradition of your relationship. The bowl of cold popcorn sat next to you on the island, taunting you. You debated knocking it on the floor but instead decided to pick it up and eat a few popcorn pieces. You made your way over to the couch, where the end tables were covered in sweet snacks and soda cans that would fuel the two of you through your marathon. Collapsing on the couch, you curled into your blanket and continued to shove popcorn in your face. You turned on the TV and started watching old reruns of the original Star Trek. It was far from the marathon of Sandra Bullock rom-coms you had planned but it lifted your spirits a bit. You were starting to actually get invested in the plot when you heard your door open. Wanda was smiling at her phone, biting her lip as she did when she was excited. It made you feel suddenly freezing and you tightened your blanket around you. Wanda looked up, her happy expression fading away into one of confusion when she saw the TV on. Making her way to the couch, she looked at you, scrunching her eyebrows.

“You started without me?”

Her voice almost sounded hurt but you brushed it off. scoffing, you refused to look at her, merely raising the volume of the show. Wanda raised one eyebrow at your actions, even more confusion taking over her. After a few minutes of Wanda staring at you and you pointedly making the effort to not look at her, Wanda came to stand in front of the TV, turning it off with a flick of her fingers. You were about to protest when she looked at you sternly.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” Her voice was soft, worried, but it did little to comfort you. You knew that this was the start of the conversation you dreaded to have. When she tells you of her lover, the person she’s been leaving you for.

“I should be asking you that.”

You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out of your mouth, making Wanda do a slight double take.

“Wha-”

“Where were you tonight, Wanda?”

You noted the slight panic that alit in your girlfriend’s eyes and it took everything in you to not release the tears gathering in your eyes,

“I told you, baby, I was at a meeting?”

She answered like she was asking a question, fiddling with her hands, a nervous habit of hers. You stood up, blanket dropping to the floor as you glared at her.

“Don’t lie to me.” You seethed out, traitorous tears falling down your cheeks. Wanda gasped, taking a step forward, hands reached out to comfort you. But you stepped away, shaking your head.

Wanda’s heart rate increased, panic and confusion gripping her heart. She didn’t know what was going on, why you were acting like this, why you were looking at her with such pain in your eyes. All she wanted to do was gather you in her arms and hug you so tightly that whatever was antagonizing you would disappear from your mind. But you weren’t letting her near you, keeping your distance in a way that sent fear shooting through Wanda’s heart.

This wasn’t how she wanted the night to go, this isn’t what she planned.

“I-I can’t take anymore of this Wanda,” you choked out, more and more tears streaming down your cheeks and staining your sweater, “You’ve been so distant, hiding things from me, lying about where you’ve been going. It’s been three weeks of this Wanda, three weeks of me wondering what I did wrong.”

Wanda’s eyes widened and she replayed her actions in her mind, grimacing at what she found. She had been distancing herself, unbeknownst to her conscious thoughts, putting you through what she imagined was emotional hell. Wanda opened her mouth to speak but you continued.

"Wondering why you've decided I wasn't enough, Wanda. Who-who did you meet that took all your attention? You were late to movie night, Wanda! We never miss movie night. It's-it's like you forgot all about me," you spoke through your sobs, wrapping your arms around yourself as a protective shield. Wanda tried to intervene, desperate to explain herself, to salvage what little of her perfect night was left, but then you whispered the words that completely shattered her.

"Am I not important to you anymore?"

Wanda powered forward, wrapping her arms around you as your head fell against her shoulder, tears painting her own shirt. One hand cradled your head as she grasped you tightly with the other.

"Y/N, oh my love, you could never not be important to me."

You continued to cry, confusion and weeks of emotional hell swirling like a storm in your mind. You pulled back from her shoulder but made no move to leave Wanda's arms, a motion she took with a flicker of hope. Swallowing, you asked the question at the forefront of your mind.

"Is there someone else?"

Your voice was broken and hoarse, scraping against Wanda's heart as it broke into pieces. Part of her felt angry you could ever believe she would stray to another but another part of her mind screamed at her, how could she not? look at how you've been treating her these past weeks!

Wanda sighed, cupping your face in her hands before maneuvering you to sit on the couch as she knelt in front of you, hands tangled in yours.

You were frozen with anxiety and fear, your heart beating loud and fast, your eyes wide as she rose her head to look at you. While you were expecting guilt and apologies, all you saw was an endless ocean of love, with an unspoken apology shining in her eyes.

"Y/N, there's no one and will be no one else. You're the one for me and I fear I messed up what was supposed to be a hopefully core memory tonight."

She took a deep breath, pausing as she continued to look at you. You realized she was asking you if she could explain. Shakily, you nodded, a thousand thoughts in your mind but doubt was no longer one of them. The pain of being cheated on was still present but it was conquered by the truth you saw in Wanda's eyes and heard in her voice. Wanda smiled, equally nervous, before continuing.

"The reason I've been distant, lying about where I've been, hiding things from you is because I didn't want to ruin it but," she laughed without humor, angry at herself, "It seems I already have."

You squeezed Wanda's hands, making her look at you after she had stared at your joined hands, self-deprecation clear in her eyes. You looked at her, confused but no longer crying.

"Ruined what?"

Your soft voice made Wanda spill a few tears down her cheeks. She unclasped one hand and gestured around at your living room, the TV, the popcorn, the snacks.

"You love our movie nights, you always put so much effort into planning which movies to watch, which snacks and drinks fit the 'aesthetic' of the movie. I thought that tonight would be a perfect time than ever, considering your choice of movies," Wanda took a breath before reaching into her pocket to pull out a small black box. You gasped, your heart now beating fast for a completely different reason.

"During 'The Proposal' I was going to well," she waved the box a little in the air, "propose. And then hopefully spend the rest of the night watching movies with my fiancée, I even had a little speech-"

"Ask me."

You interrupted Wanda, whose eyes shot up to meet yours, widening. You smiled, lifting your chin in false bravado to cover up the rapid jittery feeling flooding your body.

"How would you know if you ruined anything if you don't ask me, Maximoff?"

Wanda's mouth opened and closed and you giggled at the resemblance of your girlfriend to a fish. After concluding you weren't joking, Wanda settled herself on one knee, opening the box and taking a deep breath. You gasped at the ring, the band and stone straight out of your fantasies.

"Y/N, love of my life, these past years have been the best of my life and I am eternally grateful to have met you. I can't imagine a world in which I don't adore you. I would love to call you my wife, so-"

"Yes!"

You blurted out before slapping a hand over your mouth, laughing at yourself.

"Sorry, sorry, continue!"

Wanda smiled at your happy expression, glad to be rid of the horrid tears she had caused.

"Will you marry me?"

You shot forward, wrapping your arms around her neck, causing Wanda to tumble to the ground, barely missing the ottoman. You nodded as Wanda pressed kisses into your hair. You sat up, straddling Wanda's legs as you plucked the ring from the box and slipped in onto your ring finger.

"I guess.."

You spoke faux nonchalantly, laughing as Wanda raised her hands to tickle your sides.

"You guess? Gee, thanks for the enthusiasm!"

You laughed, swatting her hands away. Wanda laughed too before sitting up so you were in her lap, pressing a sweet kiss against your lips.

"We still need to talk about what I did."

She whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You nodded in agreement.

"We will. But for now, let's enjoy being engaged by watching Sandra Bullock movies."

Wanda laughed at that, picking you up to drop you on the couch. As you cuddled against your fiancée and listened to the opening music of While You Were Sleeping, you felt the tense atmosphere of the past three weeks melt away and your future with Wanda shone bright ahead.

a/n: I hope this was good! thank you for reading!!

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #the scarlet witch #the scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff fluff

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mandobatemans · 9 months

Text

intrigue (Tom Wambsgans x f!reader)

warnings: infidelity, fingering, unprotected piv sex, soft!dom tom, size kink kinda, biting, greg, do NOT have sex with the head of conservative news organizations irl!!!, i am a shivcel fr anything negative abt shiv in here i didn't mean it ily siobhan 🫶, NSFW UNDER THE CUT

word count: 4,740 (i got carried away)

A/N: this is loosely based on s4 e7 but there's no real timeline so it probably takes place like somewhere around season 3 or 4? this is my first succ fic so...enjoy 🤗 & also this took me SO long to write i'm so deeply sorry to anyone who was waiting

also posted to ao3

Tom had never been a fan of the whole “open marriage” arrangement. When he thought back to that fateful night (fateful night…who else would say that about their wedding night?) what he remembered most was the look on Shiv’s face when she told him that she wanted an open marriage. On their wedding night.

It was more for Shiv anyway. Tom rarely thought about actually acting on the arrangement, whether it be out of love for Shiv or loyalty to her father, he wasn’t sure. Sure, he had kissed someone here or done oral there when high on coke, but he had never actually fucked anyone else.

Something was different, though, tonight. Firstly, they were hosting a Waystar/ATN event at their apartment, and despite being chairman of ATN, he wasn't even sure what the evening was for. Shiv had told him about it last minute, casually mentioning it as they were being driven to work, like it was dinner at Logan’s rather than hundreds of media moguls and politicians to host. Actually, dinner at Logan’s felt equally, if not more, important than tonight. A better equivalent for how nonchalantly Shiv had mentioned it would be Connor inviting them somewhere.

Secondly, Shiv had suggested, outright, that they both find someone to hook up with at the party tonight. Earlier in their bedroom, after getting dressed in silence, Shiv had turned to Tom while putting her earrings in to share the idea. He knew she would be acting on it whether or not he did, and why shouldn’t he? It had been a while since he had gotten laid and was verbally (and physically) assaulting Greg a lot more as a result.

Did he just pick someone? How did you approach someone and say, “Hey, I’m in an open marriage but I’ve never actually done anything more than get my dick sucked with anyone else…anyway, let’s fuck!”

Tom fidgeted with his glass as he surveyed the room.

Despite your personal beliefs and the endless human rights violations that Waystar was affiliated with, their (and by extension ATN) events were some of the most lavish you'd ever attended. As a political journalist, it was standard for your company to send a journalist or two to whatever soirée the Roys were throwing. Everyone took turns, and this time you had drawn the short straw. It hadn’t been too bad so far, you thought, although perhaps you were jinxing yourself. You had kept to yourself mostly, chatting with other journalists you frequently saw around the city on assignments, snacking on the hors d'oeuvres, and listening to the ridiculous conversations political and media bigwigs were having.

You had been to an event hosted by the Roys before, but they were usually at ATN, Waystar, or some expensive venue. Being invited as a member of the press to Shiv Roy’s apartment felt strangely intimate. You were certain this was some calculated business move on the part of one Roy or the other, but you honestly didn’t really care. Whatever drama was happening within Waystar Royco was contained within the Roy family. You were simply here to supplement a piece your coworker was writing on the atmosphere of this political season.

It was only an hour into the party when you had collected all the quotes and interviews you needed, and sampled almost all of the hors d'oeuvres. Your boss expected journalists to stay for most, if not all, of the night for these things, in case some political bombshell were to happen. You were pretty sure nothing too monumental was going to happen in this room full of suits, especially with all of the Roys notably absent from the festivities. Even Shiv, whose house it was, looked like she wasn't paying any attention to what was going on in her home. In fact, she had been in the corner all night, talking to some prominent New York and D.C. women, important enough that you knew their faces but not important enough for you to attach any names to them.

You checked your phone for the time. You could probably get away with leaving in another hour if you made up some family emergency as an excuse for your editor. Even another hour seemed like ages. Maybe you could re-interview some people? Speak to some guests whose quotes would never make it in the article just to kill time? Sighing, you opened your messages, thumbs hovering over the chat with your editor, putting your journalism degree to use by brainstorming an excuse to get you back home in your bed before ten o’clock. When you turned around to pace while you typed (a nervous habit), you found yourself face-to-face with one of your hosts.

It felt like a fucking cliché. Literally bumping into someone at a party? If one of your writer friends wrote something like this, you'd tell them it was bullshit and things like that didn't happen in real life. Yet here you were, inches away from–

“Tom Wambsgans, Chairman of Global Broadcast News at ATN.” He introduced himself, reaching out a hand for you to shake.

You returned the handshake, grateful that he wasn’t offended by you bumping into him. “I know who you are.”

“And I know who you are.” He paused. “That sounded stalkerish, didn’t it? I meant, I know who you are because I’ve read your articles.”

“You have?” You were surprised. Your company and your articles in particular were considered left-leaning, the very opposite of the stories ATN ran.

He nodded. “Gotta keep up with the competition. I’ve seen some of your features on the network, as well.”

“Really? I would have thought you would just watch ATN all day,” you teased.

Tom made a face and then shook his head. “No, no, no. Plus, I wouldn’t really call any of our journalists ‘journalists’ so much as pretty faces. You do your own research and look good on the camera. That’s impressive.”

You raised an eyebrow and Tom’s eyes widened, processing what he had just said.

“God, I do sound like a fucking stalker.”

You laughed, “Just a little bit.” You let him cringe for a second, then smiled to reassure him. “No, but I’ve seen some of your interviews since you took over ATN. You look good on the camera, too.” You paused, before adding, “Maybe that makes us both a little stalkerish.”

His eyes lit up at your response, earning a genuine laugh (the first one that night not faked for some suit, he noted).

“Uh, sorry for bumping into you. I wasn't looking where I was going,” you explained, waving your phone in your hand for context.

“Ah, cell phone. The curse of the twenty-first century.”

You furrowed your brow involuntarily for a moment. He wasn't how you expected the spouse of a Roy to be like. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, you weren't yet sure.

“I’m making a huge ass of myself, aren't I?” He sighed. “I’ll leave you to the party–”

“No! It’s okay. Stay,” you heard yourself say. It was Tom’s turn to raise an eyebrow. Okay. You found him attractive. And even despite his eccentric comments, you also found yourself wanting to talk to him more. You were, however, purposely avoiding looking at the wedding ring on his finger.

To Tom, it all seemed too perfect. You, for example. He was being honest when he said he had seen and read some of your work and that he enjoyed it, and he did sometimes watch other networks to get an idea of the competition, but he had left out the fact that there was something about you in particular that made him watch the entire segment when you happened to be on air. And the fact that sometimes he'd scroll through your articles online and imagine you reading them aloud to him. But he wasn’t a stalker. And now you were here, in his house, on the night that his wife had all but shoved him into the bed of anyone that he wanted.

But still; one pleasant, slightly flirtatious conversation didn't mean you wanted to ride off into the sunset with him. Or, more accurately, go upstairs with him.

He scanned the room for Siobhan. Although it had been her suggestion, and he knew she had acted on the arrangement before, he still felt like it was somehow a trap. Like she’d hire someone to hide behind the bedroom door that night and catch him with his pants down (literally) to use as blackmail.

But sure enough, she was across the room, laughing at something some lobbyist had said, and resting her hand on the other woman’s arm slightly longer than a casual touch would last.

The longer he thought about it, the more confident he felt. If you were interested, he wanted to spend the night with you. And maybe more. But he was getting ahead of himself.

“It's kind of loud over here. Come on,” he gestured with his head toward the opposite corner of the apartment, one not occupied by any guests save for an elderly politician snoring on the couch.

You followed him, nodding when he asked if you wanted another drink before picking a champagne flute off of a passing server’s tray. He handed it to you once you reached the corner, your hands touching during the exchange. It seemed like even more of a cliché to feel sparks fly at this tiny touch, so you ignored that, as well.

“You host these kinds of things often?” You asked, leaning against the wall and taking a sip of your champagne. The room was full of very important people, though none of them seemed to be talking about very important things. You couldn't quite wrap your head around why a high-level executive who had married into one of the largest media conglomerates was wasting his time talking to you (flirting with you?), but you had seen stranger things in this city.

He grimaced and shook his head. “No, no. I’m usually just a guest.” Tom laughed and took a sip of his drink. “And not a very important one, at that.”

“I’m sure that's not true. I mean, how many people watch ATN? And you’re in charge of what airs or doesn't air.”

“1.89 million,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink, “Outside of the office, nobody’s really worried about what I think.”

“Not even your wife?” You stopped after you said the words, giving your brain a second to catch up with your mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean any disrespect, I–”

“No, no, no, no, it’s okay,” he assured you, reaching out to rest a hand on yours consolingly. Tom leaned in closer so only you would hear him, unnecessary considering the secluded corner you two were in.

“But no, not even my wife.”

Your eyes darted to his hand atop yours, suddenly aware of how large his hands were. They almost completely covered yours, and they felt so comfortable and right there, like–

“We have an open marriage,” he suddenly said.

“Oh.”

Tom seemed disappointed with this reaction, quickly removing his hand from yours and adding, “That’s just to say that, our marriage is, uh, unconventional, so her not caring what I have to say isn’t that unusual.”

You were still processing the feel of his hand on yours, much less the revelation that he actually might be flirting with you and that it actually might go somewhere. By the time your thoughts caught up with you, it seemed like he was about ready to excuse himself and go scream at his reflection in the bathroom.

“Well, I’m sorry about that,” you responded, mirroring his gesture from before and resting your hand on top of his to comfort him. “You don’t deserve that, really.”

He scoffed. “You don't know what I deserve.”

You looked up at him, taking the time to absorb the look in his eyes that revealed just how much he was going through.

“Uh, Tom?”

Tom rolled his eyes and turned away from you to snap at the source of the interruption. “What, Greg? Can’t you see I’m having a conversation?”

“It’s just–well, Shiv is leaving with someone.” The taller man gestured at the door, where sure enough, Shiv was weaving her way through the crowd toward the elevators with the lobbyist from earlier, her hand guiding her by the small of her back.

Tom bit the inside of his cheek. “Well, Greg, we do have an open marriage. So, everything’s fine. Now, scram.”

Greg looked between the two of you and hesitated for a second before nodding and disappearing back into the bustle of the party.

Tom turned back to you. “That’s Shiv’s cousin, Greg. I’ve sort of taken him under my corporate wing, so to speak. Showing him the ropes and all that.”

You nodded, finishing your champagne.

“Well,” he said.

“Well,” you echoed.

He paused for a minute, though it seemed to last much longer than that. “You’re writing an article about this party, right?”

“Yeah,” you responded, unsure of where he was going with this.

Tom leaned in, lowering his voice. “What would your editor say if you got a behind-the-scenes look at the party?”

You raised your eyebrow.

“Of course, you'd have to come upstairs…” Something shifted in his tone. You were well aware of what the change implied, and you’d be lying if you said you didn't want to jump at the offer. This wasn’t you, though. Sleeping with a married man? On top of that, not just any married man, but the host of the party that you were covering for work. It sounded like a problem you’d encounter on an Intro to Ethics exam. But any moral qualms you had about the issue were pushed out of your head when you registered the way Tom was looking at you.

“Of course,” you repeated, nonchalantly, setting your empty champagne glass on a nearby table.

Something flickered in Tom’s eyes. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way, Wambsgans,” you replied, gesturing dramatically.

Neither of you spoke for the entire walk away from the excitement of the party to the quiet of Tom’s bedroom. It looked much like you had expected it to look: modern, chic, and impersonal. You were sure Tom (or Shiv) had some personal items somewhere in the house, but the bedroom was so clean and styled that the only indication anyone slept or dressed in there was some of Shiv’s makeup and jewelry strewn haphazardly on the vanity.

When he had closed the door behind you, Tom stepped closer to you experimentally, as if he was afraid you'd flee like a wild deer if he moved too fast. You stepped closer as well, which seemed to give Tom the permission he was looking for. Within seconds, his mouth was on yours, his hands cupping your face, all tongue and teeth. There was hunger and desperation in the kiss, but it was hypnotizing, beckoning you deeper and deeper. He was almost doubled over to reach you (god, he was tall), so you shifted your weight to stand on your tiptoes.

Tom broke the kiss, leaving you with a confused look on your face.

He shed his suit jacket, throwing it carelessly on the floor. Next, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. Tugging on the length of his tie, he loosened it enough to undo a few buttons at his collar, revealing an inviting expanse of chest hair.

“Turn around,” he told you, snapping you out of your male-stripper-fantasy gaze.

You did as he said, something in his tone going straight to your core. You felt him run his hands from your shoulders down your arms, then down your hips and up to your waist, the action bunching up the fabric of your dress. He moved your hair to the side, pressing hot kisses to your neck that made your eyes roll back.

“Can I take this off?” He whispered, his lips trailing up to your ear.

You nodded in response, trembling momentarily under his touch. Tom unzipped your dress, helping you push it down your body and step out of it. He unhooked the back of your bra without moving further. It occurred to you then how wrong this was, to be sleeping with someone else’s husband in their own bedroom, but to your surprise, you didn’t care. The only thing you cared about was the heat of Tom’s gaze on your bare back. You took your bra off the rest of the way and discarded it on the ground next to your dress. Once in only your underwear, you turned back around to face him, watching his eyes follow every curve of your body to drink in the newly exposed skin.

“Wow,” he said, simply, reaching out to grab you by the hips and pull you closer to him. “You’re gorgeous.”

Grinning, you stood on your tiptoes to kiss him again, cradling his face in your hands. You felt him smile back into your kiss. Before you knew it, he had you pressed against the wall, totally enclosed by his larger form. He went from kissing you on your lips to your neck to behind your ear to your chest, as if he couldn't decide which spot deserved the most attention or for how long.

One of his hands slid down to the waistband of your underwear, the cold metal of his wedding ring a shock against your hot skin. You made eye contact with him as his hand slipped between the fabric and your skin cup your cunt, whining when you felt his touch. He seemed to get off on that, capturing you in a kiss again at the same time he slipped a digit into your wet heat. You were too hot; you pressed your hand to his chest to stabilize yourself and pushed your underwear down your legs and kicked them off. Tom smiled at this, getting right back to pumping his finger in and out at a pace that almost made you melt down the wall.

It was probably a power trip thing, you thought, you totally naked and him almost fully clothed. You didn't mind because it was kinda hot, but it wasn't what you had expected from Tom based on the unassuming, Midwestern image of him that was circulated in columns and by the Roys themselves. But, then again, you hadn't expected to find yourself in this position at all when you left your apartment earlier that night.

The pace of his fingers felt so good, so intoxicating, that now that you had him, you needed more of him.

“A-another one,” you whined between kisses.

When you opened your eyes to look at him, Tom had a smug look on his face. Sure, it was arrogant, but it turned you on, so who really cared? “Yeah?” he asked, “You want another one?”

“Tom,” you hissed, gripping onto his shoulder as his finger curled in just the right way that it made your legs go numb.

The look remained on his face, but he added another finger nonetheless. Tom appeared to inhabit both extremes when it came to sex: he really wanted to pleasure you but he also really wanted to do what he wanted. Luckily, those two wants aligned.

He was making you feel so good that you needed to have more of him. Your kisses got sloppier, each so desperate to be further molded with one another that your tongues tried to push impossibly further into the other’s. Tom shifted his hand so he could angle his thumb to rub slow, tantalizing circles on your clit as he continued to pump his fingers. Your grip on his shoulder tightened–you feared your fingernails would leave dents in his skin–but like so many other things tonight, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You could feel the pressure rising in your middle, your cunt clenching around his fingers in anticipation of your impending orgasm, but then it stopped.

You opened your eyes that you hadn't realized were squeezed shut to look at Tom, who had his hand in front of your face, fingers glistening with your slick. “Open,” he encouraged. You obeyed, accepting his fingers into your mouth and licking them clean with a ‘pop.’ He stared at you like you had hung the stars in the sky. He jerked his head toward the bed. “Sit.”

There was authority in his commands, but you didn’t fear him; from the short amount of time you had spent with him, you knew he was at his core a sweet man. You would admit to yourself that you had been curious how his awkward, nervous energy would translate into the bedroom, but once alone, he seemed to be a different man.

You watched him strip off the rest of his clothes eagerly, smiling up at him once he rejoined you on the bed totally naked. He must’ve noticed you staring, because he asked: “Do you want me to put on a condom?”

You shrugged, shifting your eyes back up to his own. “No, it’s okay. I'm on birth control.”

He sighed in relief. “Good. I don't even know if I have one in here.”

“Then why’d you ask?” You laughed, encouraged by the smile that crossed his face when you did so.

“Seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do. If you said yes, I would’ve sent someone to go get one or borrowed one from–”

“Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“Just fuck me already.”

“Alright. If you say so,” he teased, leaning down over you to kiss you. Both your lips were red and puffy from all the kissing and some biting, but it didn’t matter. You could feel his cock pushing against your stomach from the angle, so you reached down to take him in your hand and pump his length.

“Fuck,” he murmured against your skin, face buried in your neck as he pressed kisses to the every inch of available flesh, “Fuck…Can I?”

“Please,” you responded, noticing a little desperate hitch in your voice that you ignored. Tom licked his hand and cupped your sex with it, running the pads of his middle fingers through your folds a few times to collect the wetness between your legs. Gently, he guided his length into your opening

inch by inch, watching your face for any sign of discomfort before bottoming out.

You should’ve expected his dick to be big from his height, the size of his hands, his nose, whatever, but you hadn’t considered just how big. It was quite a stretch to take him fully, but he gave you all the time you needed to adjust and get comfortable. When you were ready, you bucked your hips up into his to give him the okay.

Tom took your permission to move and ran with it, grabbing your left leg and placing it over his shoulder before pressing you down further into the mattress with his body weight so he could thrust into you at a deeper angle.

You lifted your head to meet him to return to making out, the sensation of his tongue down your throat even more erotic now that he was inside of you, as well.

His thrusts were deep but not as aggressive as he had been with his fingers. He wouldn’t vocalize this, or even admit to himself that he was thinking this, but he wanted this to last. As much as it was supposed to be a hookup–emotionless sex–he found himself wanting it to happen again, despite his attempts to push those thoughts deep into the recesses of his mind.

One arm was thrown around Tom’s neck, hand gripping a fistful of his hair. Your other hand went down to your clit, beginning to rub circles to match the pace of his thrusts.

“You wanna cum again?” He teased, “Again, when I haven't cum once?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, playfully, slipping your finger down from your clit to lightly stroke the length of his cock that wasn't fully inside of you.

He let out a moan, eyes twinkling as he snapped his hips a little harder, snickering when you gasped in response.

Tom caught you in another kiss, resting his weight on his forearm that was positioned next to your head. You arched your back up into him, urging him deeper, which he obliged. “Touch yourself,” he said, disconnecting his mouth from yours just long enough to give the command.

You smiled into his lips, rubbing your clit again as his thrusts became sloppier and jerkier. He was holding on until you came again, despite his earlier cockiness. The moment he felt your walls tighten around him, he let go, spilling inside of you with a grunt.

He pulled out, rolling off of you to lay beside you.

Tom was still catching his breath, and you watched his chest heave for a few moments. “Hey, you okay?” He asked. “Everything alright?”

You smiled, nodding and reaching over to kiss him again. “I'm good, yeah. You?”

“Perfect, actually.” Tom smiled back at you. He found himself lost in the moment, lost in your eyes, lost in the connection you two had just had, and it was too much for him. Quickly, he sat up, ready to change the subject. “You need to clean up?”

You furrowed your brow at the sudden shift in his demeanor, but going along with it nonetheless. Despite him just having been inside you, you didn't feel like it was your place to mention the change. “Yeah. Can I?” You asked, gesturing vaguely toward the bathroom.

“Yeah. Oh, yeah. Go ahead. Towels are above the sink.”

You flung your legs over the side of the bed and stood, heading toward the bathroom. “I’ll just clean off real quick, then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“No, no, no. I mean, you can stay the night. If you’d like, that is. I could call you a car, though, if I’ve made some awful faux pas and you don’t want to look at me for another–”

“Tom.” He focused on you again after his brief spiral. “I would like to stay.”

He grinned. “Great, that's great.”

“Just let me–” You waved your hands around your lower body, “–clean all this up.”

“Yeah, of course, sure. I’ll be here.” He added the last part in a quasi-sing-song voice.

At the sound of the shower turning on, Tom rose to locate his clothes and try to clean up. He pulled his boxers back on, taking his dress shirt, pants, & jacket to be thrown into the hamper. They really should be dry-cleaned, he considered, but found that he couldn’t be bothered. As for your clothes, he wasn’t sure what exactly to do with them, so he laid your dress across a chair in the bedroom and left your bra and underwear on the floor. He was still considering whether he should pick them up or not when you came out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around your torso.

Once you had dressed in your undergarments again and Tom had given you an undershirt to sleep in, you started to wonder what all this meant. If it had just been a hookup, why were you staying the night? You had thought you’d feel dirty and disgusted with yourself, spending the night in someone else’s bed with someone else’s husband, but you didn’t. You didn’t know what that said about you, what it meant that you were perfectly comfortable talking into the night with Tom, both laughing and sharing stories long after you had agreed to turn the lights off and get some sleep. That almost made it worse, you thought, that it wasn’t just sex. That made it dangerous.

After you had drifted off, Tom spent a few minutes watching you sleep. He tucked a stray hair behind your ear, watching the worries of the day wash off your face while you slept. He knew it was wrong to be more comfortable in this bed with you than he was with his own wife. But that was something to deal with (or repress) in the morning. Here, now, with you wrapped in his and Shiv’s bedsheets, your form against his chest rising and falling with his breaths, he could pretend it was meant to be like this.

@swiftcession @greenwrldsz @zirrocom @lukas-matsson @ledtassoo @bluecruz97 @rita-lean @grainyimag3

#my fic #tom wambsgans #tom wambsgans x reader #succession

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