#that way all the fics can still be connected but I won’t have to wait much longer until I post :D
Text
Tommy sighs, and some of his anger is blown out through his nose and into the salty breeze. He’s quiet for about a minute before he says, “Do you want me to go in with you?”
~~~
Ghostbur stares at the list, and then looks up. He can see structures at the end of the path, behind some leafy trees. Wooden structures. Houses. A little village.
Ghostbur doesn't visit many villages—he doesn't remember any from Alivebur, either—mostly because they tend to be far away from the main parts of a server, and it takes a while to get to them.
~~~
Even so, Tommy’s heart pulses in his head, and his feathers are raised all over him, and he feels cold instead of hot even though his hair feels sticky.
~~~
When Philza saw Ghostbur for the first time, he gasped.
~~~
Wilbur wonders if Techno ever feels like this, around Tommy. This warm bursting inside his chest, like his heart is expanding past his ribs and slowly tearing through his skin. This explosion in slow-motion, a cacophony of colors and heatwaves and emotions, collecting in a storm cloud inside Wilbur’s brain. This feeling that’s so loud, and yet so quiet at the same time.
~~~
Wilbur loves her.
~~~
Tommy exhales softly. "Why aren't you saying much? You're all closed-off and stuff. That's bad, y'know. It represses trauma and locks up all your thoughts with a teeny tiny key and throws it out the window. Stuff like that." He waits. "Puffy says that's bad for you. Did she tell you that? About repressing things? Wil?"
~~~
Tommy presses his lips together. “Hey, if you- if you’re tired or anything, we can sit down. We don’t have to keep walking if you’re feeling bad.”
~~~
He wonders now, as he holds a tiny glass in both hands, walking from the kitchen to the den. It's the smallest glass he owns, he's sure; he'd spent way too much time looking for it earlier, opening cupboards and peering behind dishes and even checking underneath the sink. It's the only glass that'll fit the contents made for it—which, of course, is a flower. A very small, very tattered, very weak blue flower, all but one petal torn off.
~~~
Techno flicks his eyes to Ghostbur’s face, watching the ghost’s nostrils flare gently every time he breathes. Blanket covered chest rising up and down. Ghostbur doesn’t look like he’s in pain. That’s good.
Even so, Techno drops one hand from his chin and lets one elbow slide off his knee, reaching his arm forwards in order to lay his palm across Ghostbur’s forehead. A bit cold.
#THE SECOND ONE IS FOR THE RESTLESS REVERIES MULTI-CHAPTER THING!!!!!!!!#GOSH I WANT TO START WORKING ON THAT ONE AGAIN#I’ve actually been thinking—the reason I haven’t posted the Restless Reveries thing is because I wanted to work on a lot more chapters befor#before I actually put it up#(I usually don’t like posting multi-chapter stories when I haven’t written out all the chapters)#but I might actually make it a SERIES instead of a single long story#that way all the fics can still be connected but I won’t have to wait much longer until I post :D#because I really do wanna post what I’ve written for it :’(#ANYWAY#ooooh the Phil and Ghostbur one I’m excited about that#hopefully I’ll finish it alshakvsksgsjs#I like how all the words sound in that next one! explosion in slow motion especially… just sounds neat to my ears :D#OOOOH#OH THE ROMANTIC FIC#OH THAT HAS BEEN STRANGE TO WRITE#HAHA#WILBUR IS IN LOVEEEEEEEEE HE IS SO DESPERATELY IN LOVE AND HE’S ALSO NOT VERY OKAY#and he’s taking care of a literal baby so that is Also A Thing alsgakgsksgs#it’s been fun though!!#last two are from a Techno-centric fic I’m writing!!#I NEVER HEKKIN WRITE ABOUT TECHNO#HE IS QUITE DIFFICULT FOR ME TO WRITE#BUT I STILL WANT TO!!! it’s been really interesting so far :0#and also Ghostbur is not doing well :’( but Techno’s watching out for him and Ghostbur will get better :)#ask#ask game answers#Pinestripe tag#story snippet
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first, i want to kiss you for your amazing smut. especially the stepdad toji one 🤭🤭 second, will you pretty pretty please with a cherry on top write some noncon with yandere stepbro yuji? im ovulating and deprived of some nasty ass fics with my favourite boy, please? 👉🏽👈🏽🥺🫶🏽
I have like zero experience writing yandere. If I've done it before it's deff not been intentional so I hope this is okay! Also making Yuuji mean was so hard and did not sit right with my soul but bon apetit.
warnings: 18+ MDNI, noncon, fem!reader, yandere!yuuji itadori, stepcest, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, use of yuuji-nii and nii-chan, marking/cutting, blood, spanking, jealousy, creampie.
words: 1.4k
“Get out.” your brother speaks, voice brimming with hatred as he drags you by your wrist into the boys bathroom. The guys in the room look at him, then at each other. They don’t think he’s serious, he can’t be, can he? They stare at him and their eyes catch the way he’s squeezing your wrist. Tight enough to bruise. “Get. Out.” he repeats himself, calmly.
The guys hurry up, putting their dicks away and leaving without even washing their hands. It’s revolting, but the last thing on your mind as Yuuji waits for them to leave before shoving you further into the room.
“Yuuji?” you whisper soothingly. Though when he gets closer to you and shoves you again, you wish you hadn’t said anything at all. Your lower back connects with the sinks behind you. You’re sure more bruises will follow the contact, but right now that’s the least of your concern. He turns you around, and you instinctively bend over. You yelp when you feel him kick the insides of your ankles harshly, but your legs spread beautifully for him. “I-I’m sorry.” you whine. You aren’t sure what you’ve done, but he seems cross with you. Maybe an apology will make everything better.
He doesn’t respond. The sound of his zipper being pulled down reverberates through the icky bathroom. Your eyes scrunch closed as you whimper, knowing what’s coming next. He moves your panties aside, a stinging slap landing on your slick puffy folds.
“I wish you were sorry.” he tells you, coldly, “But I’ll make you sorry when we get home.”
You opt not to respond, knowing that anything you say will be misconstrued and he’ll use that to punish you. He slaps your cunt again, and the force propels you forward as you jolt at the pain. He flips up your skirt, smacking your ass again and again until even the softest touch fills you with pain.
You won’t be able to sit comfortably for a while.
He slots his aching cock between your swollen pussy lips, dragging his length up and down, coating his tips with your shimmering essence. You hear his heavy breaths as he enjoys your dewy cunt. Your unprepped hole fights him every step of the way as he bullies his cock into you. Your walls feel like home as he forces himself to the hilt.
“You’re bein’ quiet.” he points out. You look at him through the mirror, your crying has made a mess of your makeup. Black tear leans stream down your face as you can’t quite accommodate his horrifically thick cock. Lithe fingers yank at your hair, shoving your face into the reflective glass in front of you.
“I dunno what I did, Yuuji.” you pout, turning your head so that you can look back at him through the corner of your eye. You yip when he pushes your head into the mirror once more. You definitely said the wrong thing this time.
“Isn’t it obvious? Look at the slut staring back at you in the mirror.” he tells you. You start to protest, telling him that you aren’t a whore, and you didn’t do anything wrong. But you get the perfect view of his fist coming towards the mirror, breaking it, shards of glass falling onto the counters and into the porcelain sinks below. You hiss a shallowly as a little piece cuts you as it falls.
His hips stay still as he sees blood begin to seep from the small cut on your shoulder. You do nothing, choosing to stare at your reflection again in the cracked mirror. Though your eyes wander when he picks up a larger piece of glass.
“Yuuji-nii? What are you— aah!” you cry as his hand wraps around the back of your neck and pushes your face down into the glass filled sink.
“Move, and you’ll regret it.” he warns you. His painful hold doesn’t cease, but you feel his wrist balance on the plush flesh of your right ass cheek. You wince as you feel a pointed edge push down into your skin, you bite your lip and try to repress the noises desperate to leave your throat. It’s agonising and it’s unabated. And before he’s barely gotten started, you’re screaming.
His hand leaves your neck, coming down harshly on the marks he’s cutting into your behind. The stinging sensation is unbearable, you think you might pass out.
“Shut the fuck up.” he warns you. You cover your mouth with both hands, desperate to keep the screams locked deep inside of your lungs. He takes his time, with you. Making sure he writes his name on your skin in big perfect letters so there is no longer any question on who you belong to. He spanks you again, his hand becoming covered in blood. “I’ll get you some bandages from the first aid kit in the gym if you’re good.” he explains.
“What did I do, Yuuji-nii?” you pout, keeping your eyes fixated on the base of the sink as he begins to fuck into you. His entire weight poured into each and every thrust. “Haah—!”
“Saw you fucking flirting with a guy in your class.” he tells you, his palm landing on your bloody wound once again. “You’re meant to be mine. So I’m giving you a reminder.” he continues, his cock slamming into you again and again while his balls slap against your neglected clit.
You shouldn’t be enjoying this. You told him you weren’t in the mood and you didn’t have time. But the fury in his eye as he dragged you all of the way to the boy’s bathroom told you that what you wanted wasn’t really up for discussion. And it makes sense, now, he doesn’t care if you want him when he’s jealous. When he’s jealous, you’ll take what he’s giving you whether you want him or not.
“I w-wasn’t.” you sob, sniffling quietly as his tip hammers against your cervix. “Jus’ gave him some notes from a class he missed!” you inform him, hoping it’ll clear up this whole misunderstanding.
“You’re fucking stupid.” he spanks your wound again. “He didn’t want your fucking notes. He wants you. If you did anything but think with that stupid cunt of yours you’d be smart enough to talk to any guys except for me.”
“’m sorry, nii-chan.” you wail, you can tell by his sloppy thrusts that he’s close. And you’re ashamed to say that your cunt is responding favourably to him ruining you like this. You’re conditioned, unfortunately. Whatever he offers you is sure to make you cum, no matter the circumstance.
“Nii-chan knows best, doesn’t he?” he asks, though you aren’t sure if it’s rhetorical. You find yourself nodding, anyway, but a particularly harsh thrust tells you that he’s looking for verbal confirmation. “Remember what’ll happen to you if you talk to boys other than nii-chan.”
“Nii-chan knows best.” you pout, moaning as he continues to fuck painfully into you. “W-Won’t talk to anyone… promise.”
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. I didn’t lock the door, y’know. Hope he walks in and sees how much you like getting fucked by your brother. Should I cum in this slutty cunt? Make sure everyone knows whose pussy this is.” he babbles, you feel your insides turn warm before you can even answer. He curses repeatedly as he empties his balls into your unprotected womb. The feeling is like a loving hug, and your body unwillingly returns the feeling as your walls squeeze tightly around his length as you spasm from your high.
“T-Thank you, nii-chan.” you tell him, quietly.
“Good girl.” he praises you, pulling out. Your spread legs attempt to close to keep his cum inside, but he kicks at your ankles again to make sure they stay nice ‘n wide. “Gonna go get the first aid kit for you, don’t move.”
“What if—” he slaps your ass and shoves your body back down into the counter. And you realise that he didn’t mean don’t leave the bathroom. He meant don’t move from this exact position.
“What if someone walks in? Good.” he smirks, heading for the exit. “I want every guy in this fucking place to see how much you like your big brother’s cum dripping out of you.”
© 2023 rinitxshi
#💌 — luxe mail#📨 — requests#yuuji x reader#yuuji x you#yuuji smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#yuuji itadori x reader#yuuji itadori smut#yuuji itadori x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#anime smut#female reader#jjk x fem!reader#tw stepcest#tw noncon#tw yandere#tw marking#tw blood
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Omg fake dating thrope +enemies to loverswith jude. Maybe you're both celebrities or you're a girl he knows but he needs a date to somewhere and you know
gonna use this next time i write a fic bc it’s actually one of my fav tropes/ plots… 😵💫😵💫
since we know he ‘good’ at pool, the bet is placed after the two of you kept disagreeing who was better and throwing words back and forth. but something about him looking angry, brows pulled in, eyes squinted, lips plump, just turns you on… but you would never admit to anyone…
for some ironic reason, he wins the long game of pool, that lasted for an hour. that hour where intense glances were shared, a game of determination, fury built in you as you watch the black ball roll perfectly into the slot. you stood up straighter hugging the pole tightly as he came behind you and whispered into your ear.
“keep your phone nearby. i’ll give you a call when i need you…”
you couldn’t understand why you hated him so much. maybe bc of your first interaction where he embarrassed you? maybe it was bc he acted the way he acted when he was around people that were no good for him. why he always seemed to target you to release all frustration’s. why he seemed to the first person ever in your life you questioned how you were as a friend?
you never once questioned how you treated others. but he made you question a lot just by breathing the same around around him. the tense air.
you heard him brag and nonchalantly spoke about him winning the golden boy award. that cocky smirk, arms crossed along his chest. his friends praising him while all he did was stick his tongue on the inside of his cheek and nod to all the compliments.
“what a fucking ego he has,” you said frustrated and downing a double shot in a glass. “it’s just men being men,” your friend cut in, glancing at her phone and updating you with the plans the girls had made to which you quickly agreed to, grabbing your bag and walking to the door.
“hey hey hey. where you going?” you turned confused, rolling your eyes when catching the voice. “we’re headed out. different plans,” your fiend responded avoiding hearing an arguement.
“can you tell her she’s my date to the golden boy awards? that she has to packed and ready to go by sunday night?” jude says in a taunting voice. your eyes twitch and mouth opens in disbelief when your eyes connect, scoffing at his childish manner.
“can you please tell him, that i won’t go. that i refuse to spend a whole night dedicated to him?” you turn to your friend who stares back and forth between you and jude nervously. jude laughs loudly and cocks his head to the side.
“sorry you’re not at my level sweetheart, anyone would kill to be where i am. but you still owe me a bet remember?” he said seriously, stepping closer to you. he noticed the way your nostrils slightly flare and you jaw clenches. “ok ok, we’re gonna head out now. she’ll wait for your text about the trip details…”
your friend pulled you back, before the two of you could start screaming, but your eyes were directly on his. watching his angry gaze turn soft. “have a good night,” you spit out.
you made a promise to yourself that you would speak to him when he did first. you wanted to avoid any alterations or him in general. but that quickly became harder as he kept speaking to you. maybe he was just trying to annoy you, or just wanted to make communication.
for some reason this felt different. the air shared between you wasn’t no longer tense, instead it felt lost. you saw him differently, you don’t know what changed but you couldn’t even stare at his eyes without getting intimidated or shy.
when he spoke your gaze remained on your lap or outside the window of the plane. you felt nervous to speak or to reply, your heart warmed at him, his voice, his face. you suddenly felt butterflies, the feeling of wanting to be loved…
jude couldn’t offer you that. he can’t give you what you want. jude doesn’t do relationships or love. he’s doing this because of a stupid bet the two of you agreed to. jude doesn’t feel the same way you do. jude hates you. your eyes flutter when he called your attention, breaking your daydream.
“sorry… uhm… what we’re you saying?,” you side eyed him, catching a glimpse of his confused and worried features. “are you okay? i asked if you wanted anything to eat or drink…” you couldn’t tell but jude’s voice was laced with worry.
“i’m okay. and no i’m fine for the moment,” you give him a small smile and direct your gaze to the small TV in front of you. “you’re quiet… you’re not you?” jude says, his heart now warm and with ache when you couldn’t meet his gaze. he wanted you to look at him, to see your eyes, your smile, the small beauty marks he so badly wanted to kiss.
“just want to avoid any unnecessary arguments… it’s your night after all… the last i would want is for your night to go terribly thanks to our temper,” your lips purse. “i’m confused why you brought me…” your tone was insecure, jude having to resist to reach over and take your insecurities away.
“oh.” jude wanted to smack his forehead, but he was scared to spilling his true feelings for you.
oh was all he said for the rest of the flight and ride to the hotel where the two of you began to get ready. you hated feeling something for someone you know doesn’t feel the same way. why were you this vulnerable? why did your feelings towards him have to change? why couldn’t he like even more so tolerate you?
the elevator ride down to the lobby was awkward. jude discreetly stared at you fixing your lipstick and hair in the mirror inside the elevator. butterflies invading his chest at his sight. your body beautifully carved in the black matching dress to his tux.
he couldn’t stand it no longer, especially when you bit your lip anxiously. “y/n… look at me…” his calloused hand tilted your chin to look up at him. “i feel more than honored and lucky to have you here… you look absolutely gorgeous…” he saw your iris dilate at his words. he leaned down but before your lips could touch the elevator doors opened.
you cleared your throat and swallowed the urge to pull him into a kiss. instead greeting his mother and father with a hug. “this is my gf, mom i’ve told you about her but dad here’s the girl i was telling you about on the plane.”
“it’s a pleasure to meet you. it’s also nice to put a face on the other women who keeps our jude in check,” his dad joked making you laugh, and stare at jude who had a loving look on his face. “shall we go?”
you closed your hotel room door abruptly. you expected this night to go terribly, filled with insults and comments, being caught with the lie you weren’t his real gf, but it was the opposite. the night couldn’t have gotten better, you getting along with his parents, being suddenly happy and proud for the man you thought you disliked.
you ran your head stressed along your forehead, a hand coming to your throat to hold back your tears, and massage the lump. “y/n? open the door…” you gasped taking small steps back but then opening the door where jude came inside. “i wanted to thank you. i know this was a huge favor, but i really wanted you here…”
“jude what? what are you-”
“i told myself i couldn’t fall for someone like you, that it would be a forbidden sin. that i shouldn’t think of giving my entire life to you, devoting myself to you. that it would be a jeopardy, because i thought you hated me…” jude said stepping closer to you where you backed into the dresser.
“but i can see that’s no longer the same. bc you feel exactly the way i feel,” he grabs your palm and places it directly on his heart. “my heart beats faster when i’m with you. i smile only with you. i hate thinking of the fact another man touching you… let alone talking to you… i envy that because it should be me, loving you unconditionally…”
“love is the weirdest thing to exist… but if it’s with you jude, i promise to love you unconditionally…” you say breathless, tracing his cheeks and lips with your thumb. “is that a pinky promise?” he says with a cheesy smile to which you nod.
“in that case, i promise to give you my all and be the man you deserve. because i love you unconditionally already…” he wasted no time capturing your red stained lips with his, a sigh of relief to finally have you. to taste you. to kiss you. his hand remained tugging on your hair as the kiss grew passionate and messy.
he kissed every beauty mark “i love you”, kissing down to your jaw “i love you so much”. your pulse where he sucked on the skin and hearing you whimper, “i love you and only you y/n.”
#judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham blurb
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Hey can I request a teen reader x mommy Natasha fic.
Where reader still likes to co sleep with her mommy.
Nat has started a relationship with Wanda, and the witch is slightly put out by it all.
Three In The Bed And The Little One Said
Word Count: 1.6k
Parings: (Teen!Reader x Mom!Natasha) (Wanda x Natasha) (Wandanat x Reader)
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A/N: I’m so sorry this took me so long to get done! It’s not proofread but I hope it’s okay<3
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“Come on” Wanda encouraged “a sleepover would be so fun! Waking up next to you is all I’ve ever wanted” she continued “I know, me too but what about y/n” Natasha said “I’m sure one night won’t hurt” Wanda said as she pushed a stray hair behind Nats ear. “I don’t know Wanda” the witches eyes fell down to her feet “I’m sorry but I have to be there for y/n, she’s my everything” Natasha said “and what about me” Wanda continued to hold her gaze down, the redhead gently lifted her chin “you’re my always” she said “I love you more than you’ll ever know, I just can’t leave y/n” Natasha sighed, hating having to let her girlfriend down again. “It’s okay” Wanda huffed, meaning it wasn’t really okay “I understand” she finished. Natasha lifted Wanda’s gaze back to her own, her gentle fingers lifting her chin. The widow leaned in to the witch and connected their lips in a sweet kiss. A hint of honey coated Wanda’s lip and would leave a trace on Natasha’s. The two woman sat in silence for a little while longer, basking in each others warm, until Natasha noticed the time. “I’ve gotta go baby” she whispered into the redheads hairline “I love you” she solidified with a kiss on the cheek “I love you too” said Wanda, sad that her girlfriend was leaving again.
You stirred slightly as the front door closed, a gentle pat of boots along the wooden floor told you that your mom was home. Natasha made her way upstairs to find you cuddled up with a book in bed, her bed. “Hey angel” she said “hi mama” you whispered “it’s late, you should be asleep” your mom said as she quickly changed into a large shirt and grey joggers. “I tried mom, I just kept waking up so I decided to wait for you” you shyly said. Natasha joined you in bed and pulled you into her arms, it was one of the only ways you could settle. Sleep had always been hard for you, ever since you were a baby. It took your mom ages to settle you to for naps and when she first moved you into your ‘big girl room’ you cried the whole night, you were having none of it. “Come here sweetheart” Natasha said as you shuffled into her embrace “mamas got you” you continued to co sleep with your mom and even now at 15 years old, you preferred to stay in her bed even though you had a perfectly good room of your own.
After just a few moments in your mamas arms you fell into a deep slumber. Natasha sighed contently, she loved still being able to hold you like this but she wanted to spend time like this with Wanda too. Her new relationship was a sore subject for you, you had your mom wrapped around your finger and letting someone new in had proven to be a big challenge. It had always been just you and Natasha at home and that was the way you liked it. Of course you loved all your aunts and uncles at the avengers compound and of course you didn’t keep your mom away from her friends. But a new love in her life had you scared. Natasha’s love was everything to you and the thought of having it sliced in half was breaking your heart. Deep down, you knew your moms love for you could never decrease but these new circumstances were so foreign to you. Natasha soon fell asleep cuddled up with you, her relationship with Wanda still on her mind.
The next morning you and Natasha followed the same routine. You had breakfast together then your mom had her shower while you got ready for school. Natasha dropped you off and then headed off to meet her girlfriend. The witch and the widow had decided to go out for a morning coffee and Nat was hoping to settle the awkwardness around the ‘sleepover situation’. “Hi baby” Wanda said as she looked up from the table “hey gorgeous” Natasha lent down for a small kiss. The pair conversed over their usual coffee orders until yesterdays conversation was brought up. “So how’s y/n?” Wanda asked “she’s okay, she was still up when I got home” Natasha said with a slight guilt. “You know I get it right” Wanda said as she lent over to lift Nats chin “your daughter comes first and she always will, I admire how much you love her” she continued “and I love how protective you are of her, I’m never gonna try to change that”. Natasha smiled slightly, happy that she hadn’t completely ruined her relationship with Wanda. “So you’re not mad?” The redhead asked “maybe a little at first” Wanda said “I just love you so much and I wanna hold you forever, but y/n needs you” the couple held hands over the table “she likes you, y/n does, she likes when you come over” Natasha said as a wild thought came into her head. “Will you come round tonight?” She asked her girlfriend.
It took a lot of convincing, but you finally came round the idea of having Wanda over tonight. It was true that you really liked her but knowing your mom had asked her to spend the night had you spiralling. “She must think I’m a freak” you whispered “sweetheart of course she doesn’t” Natasha cooed as she curled up with you on the couch. “Do you want me to go upstairs while you have dinner?” You shyly said “no baby, Wanda knows how much you mean to me and I want you to spend time with her too” your mom said as she brushed a stray hair from your face. The two of you finished your movie just in time before the door bell rang and Natasha went to great her girlfriend. “Hey y/n” Wanda said cheerfully as she came into the living room “hi” you mumbled before the three of you shared in some more small talk. Dinner went by in a flash and although you felt like the biggest third wheel ever, your mom and Wanda asked you to pick a movie before bed. You started to feel sleepy just before the credits rolled and Natasha suggested that it might be time to hit the hay. You were suddenly more awake and a little frightened of having to settle into your own bed for the night, you hadn’t done so in weeks.
“Just close your eyes baby and I’m sure you’ll get to sleep in no time” Natasha softly said as she stroked your cheek. Your mom had been in your room for 30 minutes now and Wanda had taken the extra time to have a shower, but Natasha knew that soon she would have to leave for her room. “I don’t like it in here mama” you sniffled “oh don’t cry darling” Nat said as she moved to wipe your stray tears. You didn’t really know why you were crying and you still didn’t know why you preferred to co sleep with your mom, you just knew that it was where you felt the safest. “I’ll be just next door sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere I promise” Natasha cooed. you tried, you really did but nothing could stop the anxiety running through your blood. Your cried had quietened now and you did feel as though you could drift off any moment but as soon as Natasha stood up to leave you bolted awake again “mama” you whimpered as you sat up. Nat came running straight back to you and bundled you up in her arms “oh my baby” she whispered “you’re okay I promise” you started to cry silently again and both you and Natasha missed the quiet creak of the door frame.
Another pair of arms wrapped tightly around you and surprisingly you melted into them “Wanda?” You asked as you pulled back slightly to see her “it’s just me” the witch said. “I’m sorry” you cried out “please don’t hate me, I’m not trying to keep my mom away from you” you sobbed. “Oh y/n I could never hate you” Wanda said as she tightened her grip around you and Natasha “I know how much you love your mom and I know how much she loves you” the witch continued “why don’t you come sleep with us, I’m sure moms bed can fit three” you were so shocked by her suggestion and so was Natasha. Wanda gave your mom a small smile and Nat felt like the luckiest woman alive. “Are you sure?” You asked with shaky breaths “I don’t wanna stop you to being together, I can be brave” you whispered “oh I know you can, you’re always so brave. And I promise you will never be in the way, your mom and I love you so much” Wanda said “you-you love me?” You asked Wanda. Natasha was almost in tears watching this moment unfold, seeing a new side to Wanda that she loved so much “of course I do, you’re a part of my life now y/n” Wanda said as she placed a gentle kiss on your forehead “now why don’t we go and get snuggled up?” You nodded into the witches chest and let your mom carry you into her bedroom.
You, Natasha and Wanda all settled into your mom’s bed. It was a little bit of a squeeze but you were happily nuzzled in the middle of them. You made sure to shuffle down slightly to your mom and her girlfriend could at least be face to face, you knew how much she adored Wanda. The three of you soon fell asleep, all intertwined with each other. Wanda knew that she wanted this feeling to last forever. Natasha was overwhelmed by how much she loved you both. And you had the best sleep of your life.
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Taglist<3
@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904
#marvel#natasha romanoff#black widow#marvel fic#avengers#nat x reader#natasha x daughter!reader#wanda x natasha#wanda x you#wanda maximoff#wanda x reader#wandanat
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Jooooo!!! Hiya!!!! Can i request solomon + tell no lie? I just think this prompt kinda suits him lmao. Lots of love!! 🫶🫶🫶
Solomon - Tell No Lie
Solomon x GN! reader
Prompt: It’s impossible to lie to your soulmate.
AN: Hi Ven!!! Much love to you as well!! 💜 Sorry for the delay, but anyways this is kind of a silly fic based on a thought I had of Solomon sometime ago, and thought it worked well with the prompt...or at least I hope it did 😅 I really hope you enjoy it! Thank you for being patient and take care of yourself!!
Warnings: Solomon referring to reader as dear, darling, and beautiful, Solomon being Solomon shenanigans (I promise!), slight miscommunication but nothing angsty, established soulmate connection/relationship
Another stressful day babysitting the Avatars of Sin, you can hardly wait to go back to Cocytus Hall where it’s significantly more peaceful and quiet…as long as Solomon hasn’t snuck into the kitchen while you were away.
You have your D.D.D. up to your ear as you wait for the sorcerer to pick up, wanting to let him know you’re on your way and that Lucifer is escorting you this evening. You hear the faint shut of the door behind you as Lucifer joins you out under the front awning, staying quiet as he notices your ear-to-phone stance.
The phone goes to the last ring, and you don’t think Solomon’s going to pick up – which is odd because normally he picks up in less than two if it’s you – but he does at the last second, sounding as carefree as ever.
“Ah, hello, my dear. Ready to come back home?”
“Yeah, though Lucifer offered to walk me back,” you reply, giving Lucifer a quick appreciative grin, which he returns as he waits patiently beside you, “we’re just leaving now.”
The sorcerer hums softly. “I see. I’ve…had something come up, so that works out perfectly then.” You pick up his nervous tone with ease and know automatically something’s troubling him.
“...Is everything okay?” You know that a question like that is his weakness. Really…any and all of your questions are his weakness. They’re inescapable, unavoidable, and you like that you can use that to your advantage often.
He answers a hair too quickly, probably hoping you won’t interrogate him further, while still being truthful. “Yeah! Yes. Everything is great, I think.”
“Uh-huh… So, what is this “something,” Solomon?”
There’s a delay in the answering this time. You can almost even hear him trying to physically restrain himself from saying anything, but it’s no use. He cannot lie to you – not that he likes to anyway, but there are things better left unsaid sometimes.
Solomon sighs into the phone as the truth pushes past his lips, “I have a kid...”
To say you are dumbfounded is an understatement. You’re silent for longer than is comfortable, blinking slowly and unable to formulate any questions. Once you gather yourself, you fill your lungs as you try to grapple with what he just said.
“I’m sorry… What?!” The alarm in your voice is quite apparent, causing Lucifer to glance over in worry, wondering if he should get involved or not.
On the other side of the line, there’s some crashing sounds and light scolding from Solomon that’s hard to make out. It seems he’s holding the phone away from him. He soon brings the phone back to his ear with words coming out in a rushed flurry.
“I need to go, I’ll see you when you get back home!” Before you even get the chance, the sorcerer hangs up on you, and you’re left just as clueless as you started. You pocket your phone, your body tense and thoughts nervous for what you’re about to go home to.
Lucifer picks up on this as the both of you start your way towards the iron-wrought gate. “Is everything alright?”
You sigh in response, shaking your head as you try to sort out the conversation in your head. “Honestly…I have no idea.”
Due to how shocked and concerned you are, with millions of questions buzzing in your head, the walk to Cocytus Hall is silent. You also feel your heart in the pit of your stomach as you wonder what this means for Solomon and yourself. Lucifer doesn’t prod you any further, which you’re thankful for because what are you supposed to tell him?
Once you arrive, you thank Lucifer for escorting you before heading directly inside to see for yourself just what the hell is happening.
The first thing you notice upon entering is the odd smell wafting throughout the hall. It doesn’t smell anything like the chemical warfare Solomon cooks up in the kitchen with its distinct odor, so that’s at least a relief. You venture further in, making your way to the common room to see if the sorcerer is there.
Your foot crosses the threshold, but pauses mid-step as your eyes land on something black and fuzzy laying on the couch.
“Me-e-eh.”
“What the-” you start, but you recognize the sound of footsteps approaching from behind and you quickly glance over your shoulder to see Solomon with a little metal bowl filled with water. His eyes are trained on the bowl, simultaneously lost in his thoughts while making sure not to spill any, so when you clear your throat to get his attention, his head snaps up instantly.
He plasters on a cheerful smile which reaches his eyes upon seeing you home. “Welcome home, darling.”
You say nothing, now standing with your arms crossed as you stare at him with a blank expression as if waiting for him to explain why there is a baby goat sitting on the couch. Solomon lets out a sheepish chuckle as he rubs the back of his neck, indicating that he knows you know now.
“What do you think? He’s cute, no?”
“He’s cute, alright…” you pause, taking a peek at the little thing which is staring back at you in curiosity. You turn back to Solomon. “Is this the “kid” you mentioned earlier?”
A beat of silence passes between you two before he replies, “...yes.”
Your brows knit together so hard you might just start knitting a sweater with them. “Solomon, why didn’t you just tell me it was a baby goat? Wouldn’t that have been, oh I don’t know, simpler? I thought something else was going on!”
His eyes dart from yours to the bowl in his hands, feeling a bit ashamed of himself for worrying you so much. “I suppose so, but I didn’t lie to you. He is technically a kid.”
The sound of tiny hooves clicking against the wood floor draws your attention back to the goat, who trots its way over to the two of you, looking almost expectantly at Solomon. He smiles softly as he crouches down to set the bowl of water before the small creature.
“Here you go, little guy.” The goat sniffs at the bowl, inspecting it, before tentatively lapping at the cool, fresh water within. Solomon reaches a hand out and gently strokes its fuzzy back, gazing at it fondly. It seems the two have already bonded. You almost can’t be mad with how cute this scene is to you.
A little smile tugs at your lips as you start again. “Where did he come from?”
Solomon glances back up to you. “Would you believe me if I told you I honestly just found him wandering around down here in the street?”
“I kinda have to. You can’t lie to me.”
He chuckles in response. “Indeed I cannot. Though, you can’t lie to me either, my beautiful soulmate.”
“Hey, you can’t just throw some sweet words my way and think you can get away with this. You really had me spooked earlier,” a faint chuckle weaves its way through your words, finding this whole thing ridiculous. Still, you can’t deny how flattered you are, because you know it’s the truth.
He truly does see you that way.
“I know, I know. Flattery will get me nowhere… But you can’t blame a guy for trying,” he says as he shrugs with a hint of a smirk. “Anyways, I plan on looking into some notable farms in the human realm and contacting them to see if any of them are interested in taking him. He can’t stay here, unfortunately, as this wouldn’t be a sustainable life for him. But for now, he’s ours.” Solomon stands to full height and snakes his arms around your waist.
You grin as your hands come up to rest along his shoulders. “Ours?”
Solomon chuckles softly with a nod. “Yes,” he pauses for a moment, glancing down at the little goat who looks back up at him and “mehs” at him loudly. “I’ll think I’ll even let you name him.”
#valentine's soulmate event#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me nightbringer#obey me fluff#obey me solomon#obey me solomon x reader#jo writes
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Night in Velaris Pt. 2
Azriel x Reader
Summary: While going for the first time to a ball in Velaris, you met Azriel, with whom you feel an instant connection.
a/n. Hi! Someone asked me for a second part of my last fic, so here it is :)! It made me so happy! I would really appreciate if you tell me if you liked and your opinions about it! I hope I don't dissapoint anyone! Any advice would be appreciated. University is really stressing me, so I cannot write as much as I would want to.💔
And please, remember English is not my first language.
Part 1 here
You were nervous as hell. You’ve met the Shadowsinger not knowing who he was, and now you had a date with him. In two hours. You’d told him where you were staying so he was going to pick you up at your place. Your friends from the Court were there with you, helping you decide what to wear, you didn’t know where he was taking you so you didn’t know if you should dress casual or elegant. You decided something in the middle, cute but not too much.
At 6pm you heard a knock on your door and you start panicking. What if he was there to tell you that it was a bad idea? Or worse, what if he had sent someone to tell you he didn’t want to see you again? He wouldn’t do that? Would he? You took a deep breath and opened your door, not before fixing your dress and your hair for the fifteenth time.
It’s in that moment when you realized how dumb you were. How didn’t you notice his shadows the previous day? The dark aura he had? Wow, you were so blind. But he was the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen and that was what you thought again since you first saw him.
“Hi.” That’s all you could say? Really? You were out of words.
Azriel was looking at you in a way you couldn’t decipher. You couldn’t help the blushing on your cheeks. “You look stunning, Y/N.” You shyly chuckled. “You think so? You don’t look too bad yourself.” It was Azriel’s time to blush. He was wearing a full black outfit, which made his syphons stand out, as with his hazel eyes. You realized then that you were wearing a dress that matched his cobalt blue syphones, you’d have to thank later your friends for that. Did he notice that too? He sure did, though you didn’t know. He was obsessed with how that colour fit you. He was thinking how perfect you were for him.
“Are you ready?” You nodded, feeling calmer now that he was there, looking at you like that.
“Where are we going?” He smirked before looking at you as you walked side by side to god knows where. “It’s a surprise.” You loved surprises and you couldn’t wait to see what he had prepared so you kept insisting. “Please, please, pleeeease?? Not even a little hint?” Azriel loved your insistence. Well, to be fair, he was starting to love everything about you.
You walked for a bit, talking and laughing all the time. You confessed you didn’t know who he was until your friends told you. “I guess I was lucky you didn’t know or you wouldn’t have come to talk to me, am I wrong?” You thought about it.
“I’m not sure, but you would’ve ended up being the one talking to me! I could feel your stare all night!” He laughs as you accuse him. “Maybe you’re right, but you looked absolutely beautiful. Well, you still do know.”
“Oh, shut up.” A blush coloured your cheeks. “I won’t stop, I like making you blush. By the way, we’re almost there.”
“Can I know now? Please?” You try your best to convince him, using your best puppy eyes. “Well… Since we’re almost there… We’re going on a boat ride across the Sidra.” You look at him, shocked.
“Are you joking?” Azriel started to panic. Was that a bad idea? What if you don’t like boats? Or maybe you get sick on them? “I’m sorry, I thought you may like it and since it’s your first time on Velaris you might want to see it from a different perspective, but we can change the plan if you -”
“Azriel.” You don’t let him finish. “I love the idea. It’s awesome, really! I’ve never been on a boat! I’m so excited.” You laugh. Azriel can help but laugh at your excitement, feeling better about his idea. “Okay, let’s go then.”
The boat ride was incredible. You had the best time of your life, being excited about everything you saw. In between chats about yourselves and your shared interests, Azriel explained to you some of the places you saw from the boat. It was night and everything was even more beautiful. He even had some snacks to eat during the date. You couldn’t ask for anything else. It was all laughs and smiles, and by each second that passed you were more into the Ilyrian who was with you.
After that lovely boat ride, it was already late and the time for you to go separate ways. Azriel insisted on walking you home, but you were both sad to say goodbye to each other that the walk was quiet. Not uncomfortable but silent.
When you arrived at your place, you both started talking at the same time. “Sorry, Az. What were you gonna say?” You laughed softly.
“I was gonna say that I had an amazing time today, Y/N. And I’m happy you decided to spend this day with me, knowing that you’re leaving Velaris soon. You know, because of your dream of seeing all Prythian, I wish you could stay here. So thank you, I feel honoured.” You looked at him, not believing what you were hearing. He wanted you to stay.
“Actually…” He looked at you with hope in his eyes. “I might stay here for a while.” You took the decision while you were on the boat, but you didn’t tell him until that moment.
The male in front of you laughed with relief. “Are you serious, Y/N?” You giggled. “Completely serious, Azriel. This place has grown on me.” The place… and a few more things, like him.
“Only the place?” It was like he read your mind. He moved closer.
“Well… I have some new friends… and there’s this cute male I think I’m interested in.” Your face grew warm at the admission and his closeness.
“Interesting.” With that, he leaned down and kissed you.
Oh, you definitely were going to stay in Velaris for a long time.
#azriel fluff#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel spymaster
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remember when i said this was gonna be 5 parts? psych! it’s gonna be six parts of the secret-dolly-parton-fan eddie munson saga (thanks again for all the love on this fic & a special thanks to @gothbat99 and @legitcookie for listening to my rambling about this part 🥰)
[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 5] [part 6 + complete on ao3]
part 4: i will always love you
Eddie never thought himself to be an overthinker.
In fact, during the majority of his life a lot of people assumed he didn't think at all considering the way he flunked senior year twice (He got there in the end, though). But lately - well, actually ever since Pat swore up and down Steve isn’t as straight as Eddie originally thought - Eddie’s brain has been running at a hundred miles an hour.
More specifically, Pat’s words have been echoing through his mind, haunting him, torturing him, every time he hangs out with Steve.
“Hey man, that shirt looks really great on you.” Steve says one day when Eddie shows up at Family Video wearing a red henley. It’s an old shirt he found earlier that week when Wayne forced him to clean out his closet, a little tight but it still fit so Eddie decided to keep it.
“What, this old thing?” Eddie scoffs, playing with the frayed hem of the shirt.
“Yeah, it’s… it suits you. Looks nice.” Steve smiles.
“Thanks.” Eddie replies. His smile is tight, in the hopes that he doesn’t give away the swarm of butterflies currently residing in his stomach.
But are ya sure that boy’s straight?
“Wait, what’s happening again?” Steve asks one night during Will’s latest Hellfire campaign.
It’s the first time in literal years that Eddie’s been playing a character instead of DM’ing and so far, he’s been very impressed with Will replacing him. Though his story lines can be a little too detailed at times, which makes it hard for Steve - who hasn’t been there during every D&D night - to keep up.
So, Eddie explains it to him. He’s patient, keeping his voice low so the others won’t overhear and carefully watches Steve connect the dots. Watches how that cute little frown in between his eyebrows slowly fades away and is replaced with a soft smile.
“Which brings us here, to the Rotting Grove and now we gotta wait until Dustin’s character makes a decision.” Eddie says finally, but Steve stays quiet. He’s still looking at Eddie, eyes wide with wonder, maybe he still doesn’t understand the plot just yet. “Sorry, did I go too fast? You want me to start again?”
“No, no, I got it.” Steve shakes his head, smiling. “Thanks for explaining it, though. You’re a great story teller, Eddie.” He says, bumping their shoulders together but never pulling away.
Steve stays glued to Eddie’s side throughout the rest of the night, whispering the occasional question or snarky comment in his ear, sending a chill down Eddie’s spine every time he feels Steve’s lips brush against his skin.
But are ya sure that boy’s straight?
“You really gotta be more careful.” Steve says sternly one afternoon, after Eddie has fallen face-first onto the ground during one of Max’ skateboarding lessons, leaving him with a nasty graze on his cheek.
“I was being- fucking Christ, Steve.” Eddie hisses as Steve dabs a washcloth against Eddie’s bloodied cheek. “Will you stop that? That hurts like hell.”
Steve ignores his protests, rolling his eyes. “An infection hurts even more, so just stay still, will you?”
His hand, big and warm, finds Eddie’s hip, holding him still against the bathroom counter, as Eddie tries to think of literally anything that’ll stop his blood from going south because this not the place or time to pop a boner right now. Which somehow results in him being particularly mopey to Steve.
“I can take care of myself y’know? Been doin’ it all my life.” He grunts when Steve slowly removes the washcloth.
“I know you can.” Steve replies softly. “But sometimes it’s nice to have someone taking care of you for a change.”
He runs his thumb over Eddie’s cheek, wiping away the last of the blood before placing his his hand on Eddie’s jaw, turning his face to see if there are any wounds to be taken care of. When Steve nods, obviously proud of his work, Eddie almost wants to go out there and trip another time, just to feel Steve’s hands on his skin again.
“Besides, you need someone around here who actually knows first aid. God forbid something happens to that pretty face of yours.” Steve smirks, before patting Eddie’s chest and walking out of the bathroom, leaving Eddie speechless for the first time in his life.
But are ya sure that boy’s straight?
Pat’s words keep getting louder and louder in his mind to the point that it’s the only thing Eddie can think about. He overanalyzes every single one of Steve’s movements, every word that rolls off his tongue, every glance sent his way, to the point that he swears he’s going insane.
Because the more he starts thinking about it, the more Pat might actually be right and isn’t that the most terrifying thing in the wold?
-xxx-
“Dude, will you stop that?”
Eddie looks up from where he was mindlessly staring out the window and glares at Dustin, who glares right back at him. “What?”
“Your leg.” Dustin pokes him in said leg, the one that’s been bouncing uncontrollably for the past few minutes. “It’s fucking annoying.”
Dustin’s been at the Munson trailer since early afternoon, figuring out the perfect songs to put on the mixtape he’s mailing Suzie for their anniversary. Eddie had felt honored that Dustin came to him, rather than the so-called leading expert on romance (Steve) but now his patience is wearing thin.
Don’t get him wrong, he loves the squirt with all his heart, but Dustin’s been contemplating between two very similar songs for thirty minutes now and his indecisiveness is starting to get on Eddie’s nerves.
“Maybe if you hurried the fuck up, my leg wouldn’t be shakin’ Henderson.” Eddie retorts. “C’mon, hurry up, will ya? I got places to go, people to meet.”
Dustin snorts. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“You know, going out to the woods to deal doesn’t exactly count as Friday evening plans.” Dustin says.
“Hey!” Eddie protests. “You know I don’t do that shit anymore, not with those shady government assholes watching my every move.” He sighs, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. “But if you must know, me and Steve are having a movie night at his place and you know how huffy he gets when I’m late.”
That’s not entirely true. Sure, Eddie’s going over to the Harrington house tonight and sure they’re gonna watch a movie, but it’s also the night that Eddie decided to finally make a move on Steve. And maybe, if everything goes right, tonight will be the night that he finds the guts to Steve how he feels.
Which is why Dustin needs to get a move on because he really needs those extra few hours to contemplate his existence, have a panic attack, talk himself down from said panic attack and figure out what he’s going to wear.
“Okay, now I know you’re lying.” Dustin says, looking anything but impressed with Eddie.
“What? I ain’t lying, Henderson.” Eddie frowns. He grabs the VHS tape from the coffee table and waves it in Dustin’s face. “See, I got the movie and everything.”
“Yeah, well, you must have gotten the days mixed up.” Dustin shrugs. “Steve’s got a date tonight.”
“Yeah, right.” Eddie says, rolling his eyes at Dustin and ignoring the way his heart is starting to beat a little faster out of sheer panic. “Steve hasn’t been on a date since he broke up with Emily. And even if he has a date, I doubt he would’ve planned it at the same time as our movie night.”
“Well sorry to burst your bubble, but I know for a fact that Steve’s got a date tonight because he told me.” Dustin’s tone is bordering on condescending but Eddie doesn’t even have energy to tell him off right now because what the fuck? What does Dustin mean by that? And maybe more importantly, why did Steve leave Eddie in the dark about all this?
A heavy feeling settles down in his stomach, but he can’t let Dustin see his inner turmoil so he goes with indifference instead. “Pff, sure he did.”
“I saw him buy roses, Eddie! They were red too and that’s like, a dead giveaway for romance!” Dustin declares. “And when I talked to him about it he got this… weird, mushy look in his eye, which by the way gross, and said something about making tonight special and shit. Which again, gross, but if that doesn’t scream romantic evening to me, then I don’t know what is!”
Slowly, as Dustin’s words are starting to sink in, the heavy feeling grows stronger and stronger until Eddie feels his stomach drop.
Steve’s going on a date.
Steve’s going on a date and just ditches Eddie without saying a word.
Steve’s going on a date with someone who isn’t Eddie.
Steve’s going on a date which means Pat was wrong.
“Get out.” Eddie says, voice on edge.
“Geez, didn’t know you’d get so upset. It’s just a cancelled movie night, I’m sure Steve-”
“Out!” Eddie exclaims, his tone way harsher than it needs to be. It obviously affects Dustin, who flinches at his words, but Eddie doesn’t care. Well, he does but he’ll apologize to Dustin later, once he starts to feel normal about all of this.
Dustin quietly packs his stuff, mumbling something under his breath as Eddie just stands there, frozen. Eyes glued to the coffee stain on the carpet, mind reeling with thoughts of Steve ditching him for some date he didn’t even tell him about.
He hears Dustin say a quiet goodbye but he stays there for a good few minutes before he finally snaps out of his trance and grabs the keys to the van from the kitchen counter. He doesn’t even see the dark clouds forming in the sky, he just gets in the van and drives.
-xxx-
Rain is still pouring down when Eddie arrives at the Off-Road. Not that he really cares about the weather right now, he’s got other things on his mind. He pulls his leather jacket over his head and jogs over to the entrance, only to find the door closed and the lights off.
Great. Like his day couldn’t get any worse.
Eddie slumps down on the porch in front of the bar, not caring that he’s sitting on wet wood or that the wind is blowing the raindrops right in his face. The rain is actually pretty nice right now, hiding the tears that are slowly rolling down his cheek.
Crying over Steve motherfuckin’ Harrington. That’s a new low, even for him.
And the thing is, any other time Eddie could’ve dealt with Steve getting another date. Yeah, it’d probably hurt like a bitch and Eddie would’ve been sulking for a day or two, but he would’ve been fine. It would’ve been just another Emily situation, just another reminder that Steve would never been his.
But Steve keeping him in the dark about his date, Steve just flat-out cancelling their movie night without even telling him, after weeks of, let’s be honest, low-key flirting? That somehow hurts even more. It just feels like Steve doesn’t really care about him, like Steve’s using him like a fucking Kleenex - use once, then throw away when it’s no longer useful.
The thoughts in his head are so loud, so overwhelming, that he doesn’t even hear a pick-up truck stopping a few steps from him. Doesn’t hear the hushed voices or the wet sounds of footsteps through the mud.
“Ed? Whatcha doin’ here kid?”
Eddie looks up from where he had been staring at his feet, only to find Pat and Tish standing in front of him, huddled together underneath an umbrella. The worried looks on both their faces makes Eddie just cry even harder.
“Oh honey.” Tish says softly. “Let’s get you inside, okay?”
Pat and Tish lead him inside and up the stairs that lead to the apartment above the bar. It’s small, but cozy and feels like a home, with little trinkets and old photos scattered just about everywhere. Pat firmly plants Eddie down at the kitchen table and hands him a couple of towels as his tears slowly start to fade. He hadn’t even realized how cold he was until Pat throws a woolen blanket over his shoulders and Tish puts down a pot of hot chamomile tea.
“So…” Pat says as she sits down across from him at the kitchen table. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Eddie sniffs, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “It’s stupid.”
“We’ll be the judge of that.” Pat says sternly, though her eyes are soft. “Now tell us what happened.”
And Eddie just spills everything. How Pat’s advice has been haunting him, how he’s been overanalyzing every of Steve’s moves, how he was so sure that Steve liked him back, only to be tossed aside without a care. He tears up again a few times and it’s so embarrassing he wants to be buried alive, even with Pat and Tish just listening and telling him it’s okay.
Once he’s done, he just feels empty - no more tears to cry, no more words to say, just an empty, hollow feeling where his heart used to be.
“Eddie, I’m so sorry, honey.” Tish sighs as she pours him another cup of tea. He’s not usually a tea drinker but he’s had two cups already - he swears Tish put some kind of crack in it, rather than sugar cubes. “For what it’s worth, he doesn’t deserve you. Not if he treats like you like, pardon my French, dogshit.”
Hearing Tish swear, while she’s generally so prim and proper, makes Eddie laugh, even through his dried-up tears. “Thanks, Tish.” He sighs, slouches down in his chair and looks up at the wooden ceiling. “But I guess this was good, in some twisted, fucked up way. Just the slap in the face I needed.”
“What’d you mean?” Pat frowns.
“It’s just… I been running after him like some lovesick puppy even though I know he’ll never feel the same.” Eddie says. “And it’s not doing me any good, now is it? Guess this is a sign that it’s time for me to move on.”
He knows he said that before, back when Steve started dating Emily, and even though it clearly didn’t work out the way he wanted to, Eddie has to make it work now. He has to say goodbye to Steve because he’s not so sure his poor heart’ll survive if he doesn’t.
And he knows exactly how he’s going to do just that.
Eddie jumps up from the table and races downstairs, ignoring Pat and Tish’s confused noises as they follow him. He fumbles with the lights for a moment but as soon as the lights are partially on, Eddie walks up to the podium, grabs the guitar off the wall and sits down on the stool that has become so familiar to him.
The bar is silent because of course it is and for a second Eddie just wants to laugh at how weird this whole situation - singing in a bar just to process his dumb feelings, even with no audience around (well, there’s an audience if you count Pat, Tish and the wind howling outside). But he has to do this, needs to do this, audience be damned.
His hands are shaking, hesitating to play the first few chords. It’s not like he doesn’t know the song, in fact he knows it by heart and played it plenty of times, But he never actually sang the words, too scared what’ll mean if he’ll say them out loud.
“If I, should stay… I would only be in your way. So, I’ll go but I’ll know, I’ll think of you each step of the way.” Eddie sing softly, voice already wavering because he was right for not singing this song before - it fucking hurts. “And I… will always love you.”
Eddie’s voice echoes through the empty bar, causing to sound more hollow than it already is. A shiver runs up his spine when he feels a cool breeze of wind - the wind must’ve flung the door open. Eddie doesn’t look up, closes his eyes instead and lets the music take him.
“Bittersweet memories, that’s all I’m taking with me.” He hears Pat and Tish whispering to another, can’t really see them from where they’re standing in the dark but their hushed voices sound tense. Not that Eddie’s really listening, it’s all background noise as he continues strumming his guitar.
“Goodbye, please don’t cry. We both know…” Eddie chokes on his on voice, the words hitting a little too close to home. He takes a deep breath and tries again, refusing to shed anymore tears. “We both know that I’m not what you need.”
“Eddie?”
Someone’s calling out his name. A familiar voice. A way too familiar voice.
Steve’s voice.
But that can’t be. Steve’s doesn’t knows he’s here. Steve’s too busy wooing his goddamn date with those goddamn roses.
It’s just in his head. It’s just his mind playing tricks on him. He just needs to finish this song and then this fake Steve will disappear and-
“And I… will always love you. I will always-”
“Eddie, please.”
Eddie stops playing as a shadow washes over him, a figure blocking the spotlight. He squints, trying to identify whether it’s Pat or Tish who interrupted him, only to find that it’s neither of them
Because there, with floppy wet hair plastered to his face and a thoroughly soaked pink button-down and blue jeans, stands the one person Eddie had run away from in the first place.
Steve.
tag list (there are so many of you now omg ily):
@cheatghost @henderdads @unclewaynemunson @goblin-eddie @trikigirl271 @alienace @fandomcartographer @stevethehairington @blank1eboi @this-earlobe-is-naked @fruitandbubbles @courtjestermunson @steveisabicon @stereoteleversion @wrenisflying @spectrum-spectre @hotluncheddie @punkharringtxn @remislupinsthevoiceofgod @panicatthediaz @thegingervulcan @sharkruption @goodolefashionedloverboi @thelastwalkingsoul @undreamingscatworld @starrystevie @magipemuseum @mightbeasleep @corrodedcoughin @linkydinky06 @hardboiledeggs @gamerdano @limpingpenguin @blackpanzy @piningapple @teelagurl558 @theokatz @moonlightmirrorball @milf-harrington @raisedbylibrarians @eddiemunsonswife @catateme9 @stranger-poets-society
#steddie#steddie fic#steddie fanfiction#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie ficlet#steve harrington x eddie munson#stranger things#i wanna say i'm sorry for the cliffhanger but i'm not#stay patient friends!! it'll all be good soon#alice's writing adventures
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Lost Time
Summary: Two years. Your soulmate has been missing for two years. After exhausting all your resources to look for him, you get a message from an old friend asking for help. Little do you know what's waiting for you when you arrive.
Pairing: Captain Gregor x reader
Warnings: NSFW, smut, unprotected sex, Gregor is a boob guy, mention of a brain injury, Gregor's past, major angst and feels, Soulmate AU
A/N: I know I said Echo was up next, but this one just came upon me out of nowhere. I've never written for Gregor before, and I've never really read much fic for him so I'm sorry if this is absolute trash. It's the shortest out of all of them so far cause I definitely don't feel confident in this. I gave it my best shot, and I hope it's at least palatable.
MASTERLIST
It’s been two years. Two long years since you’ve seen your soulmate. You remember sneaking into the supply closet, clinging onto him as he kissed you goodbye before he left for another battle.
If you had known that was the last time you’d see him, you would have held on longer.
The battle was one of the worst. You remember the defeat, the far too few troopers returning to the ship. You were kept busy, treating and aiding the battered troopers. You hadn’t noticed until later, when Coil had pulled you aside with the pity filled look in his eyes. You’ll never forget that look.
MIA. That was his official status. You know he’s not dead. You would know if he was, you would have felt it. There would be no hiding it. Besides, he had too many life points left when he’d walked away from you.
He’s not dead.
He’s missing.
You leave the army not long after.
They hadn’t even tried searching. You were slave to your duties, to hiding your connection, but it was driving you insane. They cared so little for the people laying down their lives for them every day. They won’t extend any searches, not wanting to risk staying in the area any more than they have to. They had lost the battle, and you had lost your soulmate.
You left the army, instead focusing your efforts on trying to find him. He had made it to a ship, but then he could have wound up anywhere. You exhausted every resource you had, spending every last dime you could afford trying to locate him.
You fail.
It’s like he vanished.
You know he’s still out there. You can feel it. He wouldn’t leave you like that.
Then the war ended. You knew something wasn’t right, things were happening that shouldn’t be. You didn’t trust the Empire, and so you had gone underground, trying to avoid them as much as possible. Your hunt for Gregor was over. There was no way you were going to find him now.
All you can do is trust that you’re going to cross paths again. Fate wouldn’t be that cruel, would it?
You stare at the number on your wrist in the dim light of your makeshift shelter. Life points, they were called, or a tracker of how many years you have left to live. You hadn’t known Gregor was your soulmate until you’d touched him for the first time, even though you both shared the same type of mark. His points had been lower than yours, significantly lower.
Despite your insistence, he hadn’t let you give him more points. It was possible to give points to your soulmate, shortening your life to lengthen theirs. You didn’t want to outlive Gregor, but he had refused to shorten your life for him. You knew he wouldn’t die in the war. He had too many years left. But the thought of living without him was too much. You didn’t want to outlive him, no matter how he died.
Your sweet, loyal Captain, out there somewhere. You wonder what happened to him, why you haven’t been able to find him. You wonder if he’s been looking for you, if by some sick chance you’ve been missing each other. Had he made it back to the GAR expecting you to be there? Had you made a mistake in leaving?
The doubts plagued your mind as the months passed without a sign of him. You’re determined fate won’t keep you apart, but still, you can’t help but question it in the dark of night as your thoughts run rampant.
“You think too much, cyare.” He’d said, playfully poking the wrinkle on your forehead. You had been lost in thought, curled up in his bunk with him during one of their brief shore leaves.
“I just worry.” You’d said, every mission he left on, every battle he fought in making your mind wander with thoughts of all the horrible things that could happen to him.
“Don’t worry about me.” He’d tried to console you, wrapping his arms tighter around you.
You can still feel him, even two years later. The rasp of his voice, the smell of him, the feel of his arms wrapped around you. You’ll never forget. Your mind, your body, your very soul yearns to have him again, to hold him, to kiss him, to feel his skin against yours just once more.
What you would give to make that happen.
***
You're shocked when Rex contacts you. You knew Rex from the few times you'd worked with the 501st. Gregor knew Rex too, and had only the highest praise for his fellow Captain.
You haven't heard from Rex since you defected. You haven't heard from anyone since then. That wasn't exactly the smartest move, especially if Gregor had somehow returned to the army. Burning those bridges probably wasn't the best, but you could be arrested for desertion if the wrong person knew how to find you. That would have put both you and Gregor in danger.
You're not sure exactly how Rex got ahold of you, but you replay his comm message over and over. It's hardly more than a location and a request for assistance. It could be a trap. Anyone or anything could be waiting for you there.
Or it could be someone.
You decide to go. If nothing else, perhaps Rex could help you rekindle your search. Or, maybe he already knew where to find Gregor.
You make for the location, your heart pounding in your chest. You feel sick with nerves, hands shaking as you land your piece of junk near the location. You steady your nerves, tucking your blaster into the back of your pants before you leave the ship.
Almost immediately you're greeted by two troopers with blasters. Is this it? Has the Empire caught up to you? You're not sure what they would want from you, except maybe to uphold punishment for deserting the Republic's Army. Or perhaps your reluctance to register in their system.
"What is your business here?" One of the troopers asks. They're not dressed like the troopers you've seen in passing. Their armor is worn and painted still.
You state your name, lifting your hands in surrender. "Rex sent for me."
They share a look before lowering their blasters, the one that had spoken motioning for you to follow with his head. You follow them through the trees, down the path towards what looks like an abandoned building. It’s not abandoned, though, many troopers mulling about inside and out.
You’re led inside, Captain Rex approaching you. You remember him well, even if he looks a bit older, and more tired than the last time you’d seen him. You can only imagine how hard everything has been on him.
“Captain.” You say, greeting him. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”
“Thank you for coming.” Rex says. “I didn’t know if you would.”
“You said you need my help?” You frown a bit, not sure what you can offer that he probably doesn’t have already.
“Well, that’s only partially true.” He says. “I actually have a surprise.”
Your frown deepens as you stare at him. A surprise? What kind of surprise could he have?
“Hello, doll.”
Your body stiffens, breath catching in your throat. You stare at Rex wide eyed, a small smile forming on his face. Had you imagined it? Had you misheard something meant for someone else? You should turn, you should look. You’re too scared to move, too scared he’s not going to be there, that it’s all in your head.
Rex gives you a small nod, reassuring you as you begin to turn. Slowly, inch by inch you turn, half expecting nothing to be there.
It’s him. You know just by staring at him. Tears gather in your eyes as you look him over. He’s a bit thinner than you remember, but he’s no less defined. There’s dark circles under his eyes, wrinkles popping around his eyes as a smile tugs at his lips. He looks as much tired as he does relieved.
“Gregor?” You whisper, still trying to convince your brain this isn’t some dream, this isn’t some trick.
“It’s me.” He says, running a hand over his hair. He lets out a nervous giggle, eyes dropping to the floor. “It’s really me.”
He sounds different. His usual husky rasp is gone, his voice pitched higher than it had been before. A small frown pinches between your brows. What happened to him?
“You’re thinking too much, cyare.” He says, holding out a hand.
Your hand is shaking as you reach for him, tears blurring your vision. You’re pulled forward, body collapsing into his. He squishes you tight against his chest, your face pressing into his neck. He smells the same, just as you remember. Your legs wobble, nearly giving out as you cling to him. He holds you, his armor digging into your skin but you don’t care. It’s just another reminder he’s real.
“I looked for you for two years.” You sniffle, pulling back just slightly to look up at his face. “What happened to you?”
“It’s, uh, it’s a long story.” He says, letting out another giggle.
***
You’re coiled around him like a snake.
You’ve barely let go of him since your reunion, afraid he might disappear if you let go too long. You’re laying in a makeshift room on the base, stretched out on the cot together. It’s barely big enough for him, much less the two of you, but you don’t care. You don’t expect to be going far from him for a while.
He’s told you everything. What happened during the battle of Sarrish, crash landing on Abafar, his amnesia, the droids, the explosion, finding his way back to the Republic, signing up to train the new troopers, and then defecting and being imprisoned, then rescued, then brought here.
“I looked for you.” He says, hands trailing along your side. “Coil said you’d defected.”
“I was looking for you.” You say, curling a hand in his blacks. He’d ditched his armor, stacking it in a pile near the door. “I should have just stayed.” You say, shaking your head. “We could have been together sooner.”
“Don’t.” He frowns, tracing your lips with his thumb. “There’s no guarantee we would have seen each other then, either. I’m just glad you’re safe.”
“I think I’m supposed to be the one saying that.” You say, leaning in closer to his face.
“I think you’re saying too much right now.” He murmurs, his hand sliding down to your thigh to tug you further on top of him.
You close the distance, pressing your lips to his. They’re slightly chapped, but they’re still just as you remember them being.
He pulls away, letting out another giggle. He squeezes his eyes closed, a frown forming on his face. “Sorry.”
You press yourself up so you’re seated over him, looking down at him. A brain injury, you think, your medical training coming back to you. You cup his cheek, tracing his soft skin. “Don’t.” His eyes meet yours, lips parting as he stares up at you. “I know you can’t control it.”
“I know I-I’m not-”
You shush him, lowering yourself so you’re face to face again. “You’re here.” You peck his lips softly. “That’s what matters to me.”
His hands grip your hips, holding you against him as his nose brushes yours. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“I think it was that cheesy pickup line the first time we met.”
He snorts, kissing you softly. “I didn’t think it would work.”
“Well,” You kiss him again. “Here we are.”
He stares up at you, his gaze darkening a bit. You can feel him getting hard against your thigh. “Here we are.”
“You must have really missed me.” You murmur.
“You have no idea.” He says, cupping the back of your head to pull you into a kiss.
This kiss feels different than the ones you’d shared before. The desperation, the urgency, the longing. Two years apart, two years with no idea when you’d see each other again. It’s too long, far too long to be apart after forming your bond. You need him, you need all of him, and judging from the bulge pressing against your thigh, he feels the same.
His hands slip under your shirt, rough fingers trailing along your spine. You shiver under his touch, a fire lighting under your skin. You shift so you’re straddling him, grinding against his bulge in desperation for any sort of friction you can get. He groans against your lips, tugging at your shirt.
You pull away long enough to strip out of your shirt and breastband, his hands immediately reaching for your breasts. You roll your eyes with a smile, leaning down again. He tugs you closer, your body falling against him so his face is buried between your breasts.
“Gregor.” You say exasperatedly, but you don’t move, letting him lay there for a moment.
“Sorry, doll.” He says, voice muffled by your breasts. “I missed these beautiful tits.”
“It’s okay.” You run your hand over his head. “Take your time.”
He wraps his arms around your back, squishing you tight against his face. You’re worried he might smother himself, but you know if he’s going to die, this would not be the worst way he could go out.
For a moment you think he might be asleep, but he releases you, letting you push yourself back up. His hands close around your breasts, thumbs flicking over your nipples. You bite your lip, staring down at him as he’s transfixed by your breasts. He was always obsessed with your breasts, his favorite body part of yours he’d told you once.
“Maker, I could stare at these all day.” He says, squeezing them gently.
“Well, fuck me first, then you can stare all you’d like.”
His eyes snap up to yours, his gaze darkening a bit. “Deal.” He says, releasing your breasts so he can sit up.
You tug his shirt over his head, trailing your fingers along his skin. You trace scars, new and old, every divot of his skin. His hands work on undoing your pants, and you sit back to help him tug them off. You push him onto his back, tugging his pants down his hips and over his thick thighs. He’s hard and leaking already, your hand closing around his length.
Oh how you’ve missed him.
You jerk his length a couple times, your own folds already slick and ready for him. You move yourself on top of him, lining him up before lowering yourself onto him. You sigh at the stretch, working your way slowly down his length. His hands rest on your thighs, holding onto you as he watches you.
You feel alive again, the tension leaving your body as you reconnect with him after so long. The distance you’d suffered is washing away, the bond between you strengthening once more.
“Feel so good, doll.” He groans, hands sliding up your thighs to grip at your hips.
“Missed you.” You breathe, bracing yourself on his stomach. “Missed you so much.”
“No idea how much I missed you.” He groans as you begin to move, rocking yourself on his cock.
You curse quietly, extending your movements until you’re bouncing on his cock. He watches you, eyes focused on your body as you fuck yourself on him. He loves watching you, loves letting you take your pleasure from him. He wished you’d had more chances before. Having to keep his distance while simultaneously so close to him was torture.
He doesn’t have to worry about that now. You two can be together without having to fear any repercussions. No one’s going to tear you apart now.
He pulls your body down against his, wrapping his arms around your back to hold you as he lifts his hips, beginning to thrust into you. You let out the most beautiful noises as he fucks you, your fingers digging into his shoulders. He grunts at the bite of your nails, but he doesn’t stop, wanting to feel you cum around him.
“So good,” He groans. “So good for me, mesh’la.”
“Gregor!” You cry, your clit dragging against his pelvis with every thrust. “I’m gonna cum!”
“Cum for me.” He moans, breath panting against your ear. “Wanna feel you.”
You shake as you cum, spasming around him. His own hips stutter, the tightness of your walls milking his own orgasm from him. He groans loudly, stilling as he spills inside you. You let out breathy little moans at the feeling, going limp against him.
He strokes your skin, staying still under you. He had missed you so kriffing much. He had been determined to find you, determined to track you down, even if he had to scour the entire galaxy. He had been elated when Rex told him he’d already contacted you before he’d picked him up from Ord Mantell.
“Gregor,” You breathe his name, your warm breath fanning across his chest.
He sits up, holding you in his lap. “Yes, doll?”
You shift just slightly, hand closing around his bicep. “I love you.”
He kisses your forehead, the skin damp with sweat. “I love you too.”
His muscles tense when he feels a tickling sensation on his wrist. He lifts his warm, watching as the number on his wrist changes, increasing significantly. He grips your arms, pulling away from you slightly.
“What did you do?” He asks, grabbing your arm to stare at the number on your skin.
The numbers are the same now, still far more than he’d had before.
“I can’t live without you.” You say, blinking teary eyes up at him. “I don’t want to.”
“Doll...” He says, staring at the two numbers. He never wanted you to give up time for him. He didn’t think he was worth it.
You cup the back of his neck, drawing his gaze back to yours. “I wanted to do it. I lived two years without you. I don’t want to spend any more time apart.”
He blinks at you, tears filling his eyes. He pulls you tight against his chest, pressing his lips to yours. “I don’t deserve you.” He murmurs against your lips.
“You do.” You say, kissing all over his face. “You deserve this and so much more.”
He holds onto you, flipping you on the small cot so you’re on your back, his body resting on top of you. He presses his face back against your breasts, resting there. “You promised.”
You can’t help but laugh, letting your fingers trail over his face. “I did. I did promise.”
Taglist:
@stressed-cherry @6oceansofmoons @ladytano420 @spicy-clones @kaminocasey @dangraccoon @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @stunkbiggu @endofthexline @padawancat97 @rosechi @arctrooper69
#star wars#star wars fic#the clone wars#the clone wars fic#captain gregor x reader#captain gregor#x reader#soulmate au
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Daddy Knows Best, Part III
Title: Daddy Knows Best, Part III
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: StepDad!August Walker x StepDaughter!Reader
Fandom: Mission: Impossible - Fallout
Word Count: 2.5K
Summary: August Walker and your father were once friends. One mission, a single decision, made them enemies. August decides he needs to get his revenge. And what better way, than to become your new Daddy?
Chapter Summary: Daddy and Babydoll take a trip together.
Warnings: pet names (Daddy, Babydoll, babygirl), age gap (the reader is 18, August is in his late-30s), Dom/sub vibes, oral (m receiving), cum facial, cockwarming, unprotected p-in-v sex, cumshot, loss of a parent (mother), dead dove: do not eat
A/N: This is different from my usual fics. This would be considered dark!fic in every way possible. If you read the warnings and still choose to read, you are making your own decision. No one is forcing you to read this. This is an entirely self-indulgent therapeutic fic. Enjoy! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.
Dividers by: @saradika
Support/Reblog banner by me
Spotify Playlist is here.
Cover Art by me
Series Masterlist
My Masterlist
“It’s only a couple of days, Babydoll. I promise I will be back before you know it.” I fold a polo and put it in my suitcase on the bed next to a grumpy Babydoll.
“You’re gonna leave me here with Mom? I might as well be alone.” That little pout on her face gets me every time. And she’s not wrong. Her mother will ignore her at best, and at worse she will try and connect with her.
Too little, too late.
“You want to come with Daddy on his trip, don’t you?” I start thinking about what things we could get up to in my safe house.
And it could make it easier to do that...other thing I had planned.
“Please, Daddy?! I promise I won’t take up a whole lotta space and I’ll do whatever you say, I promise!! Please, can I go?” She clasps her hands under her chin and pokes out her bottom lip and I am a goner.
“Whatever I say, huh?” A couple of things come to mind at that moment and I file them away for later usage.
She bites her lip to hide a smile, nodding furiously.
I wink at her, leaning down and claiming her lips. Pulling away and smiling at her, I say, “Go and pack for a three-day trip,” I bring a hand down to cup her pussy, moving her panties to the side and dipping a finger in to feel that she was a soaked mess, “You are going to do everything I say, Babydoll. And you will respond with ‘Yes, Daddy’. Am I understood?”
“Yes, Daddy.” She wiggles her hips to try and ride my finger, but I pull it away and lick it clean as she watches.
“Don’t make me have to ask you to go pack, Babydoll.” I give her a stern look and she scurries away.
Soon, our suitcases are in my Escalade and we are off on our small road trip.
You wake up slightly as Daddy is carrying you into a cabin under the light of the moon. You keep your eyes closed as you are put into bed and your shoes and jacket are removed. You peek an eye open as you lift a hand to grab Daddy’s arm as he starts to leave.
A warm hand touches yours, “Daddy just has to make a quick phone call. I’ll be right back, Babydoll.”
You nod and close your eyes, melting into the plush comforter surrounding you. The creak of the wooden bedroom door shutting is all you hear before sleep claims you yet again.
I shut the bedroom door and immediately pull out my cell phone. Dialing a number I’ve memorized, I wait until the line is picked up.
“Timeline’s moved up. Do it now.” Hanging up after hearing confirmation, I make my way over to the small bar in the living room.
I pour two fingers of Black Label neat and swirl it around, taking a sip. The smoky vanilla liquid coats my tongue as I savor it and then swallow. Whether it’s the placebo effect or not, I instantly feel calm.
Sitting on one end of the couch, I throw my feet up on the coffee table. Holding my drink in my lap and leaning my head back against the backrest of the couch, I close my eyes and just rest.
It’s so rare that I can just sit in silence anymore. I didn’t ask to be a father...figure. Not that I’m upset about Babydoll being in my life, far from it. She's perfect for me.
I’m terrible for her. But she has no clue about that. And I'd like to keep it that way.
My sweet little empty-headed Babydoll is ready to do anything and everything I ask her to. If pleasing me makes her happy, who am I to stop her?
I take a sip of my drink and hear the slow creak of the floorboards in the bedroom. I throw my arm over the back of the couch as the bedroom door opens and Babydoll’s head pokes out.
“Daddy?” Oh, how I love to hear that out of her mouth.
“Come here, Babydoll,” I hold an arm out as she shuffles across the hardwood in her thigh-high socks and makes her way over to the couch to sit sideways in my lap, “I thought you were sleeping, babygirl.”
Laying her head on my chest and wrapping her arms around me, she settles in against my warmth. “I reached over for you and you weren’t there and I got scared.” How is she this fucking adorable?
“Oh, my sweet girl. I was right here the whole time. I promise you are always safe with me,” Safe was kind of subjective, but I went with it, “I’ve got an idea to get you back to sleep, it’ll make you nice and tired.”
She starts to squirm in my lap and I put my hand on one of her thighs, hooking my fingers in her thigh-high sock and pulling it down her leg. I do the same with the other before I reach over her to put my drink on the table.
Moving her to the couch, I kneel between her legs on the floor and get my hands under her skirt to pull her panties down. The thought crosses my mind how I went through her suitcase and pulled out all the panties she packed. I want easy access to this pussy while we’re away.
She snaps me out of my reverie with, “Daddy?”
“What’s wrong, Babydoll?”
She leans up and runs her hand over the front of my slacks and grabs my dick. “I wanna learn to give Daddy special kisses too.” Did she know what she was doing to me?
Fuck.
I bite my bottom lip and sit back on my heels for a second, looking into her pleading eyes. Standing back up, I open my zipper and pull out my already half-hard dick right in front of those pretty plump lips. “You want this in your mouth, Babydoll?”
“Yes, Daddy. Please teach me how you like it?” Her eyes go wide when my dick twitches at her words, so she decides to go a bit further. “Wanna taste Daddy.” She’s rewarded with another twitch.
“Why don’t you grab Daddy’s dick and stroke it first, Babydoll?” The moment she has a hand around me, she licks her lips and it threw me for a loop. Up until this point, she has been my sweet virginal Princess, now she wants to suck me off and it turns me on beyond belief. She reverts to using both hands and that little tongue snakes out again in her concentration. I take my dick out of her hands and grab her chin, “Stick your tongue out for Daddy and keep that mouth open.”
I hold the head of my dick and spread my precum all over her tongue, pushing just the head inside her mouth. “Now, close your mouth around Daddy’s dick with just your lips. No teeth, Babydoll. I’m gonna fuck your little mouth and then you’re gonna see how far you can go. If you have to stop to breathe, just open your mouth, ok?”
She hums her understanding around my cock and I twitch in her mouth again. I grab the back of her head and move my hips to shallowly fuck her hot wet mouth. She’s doing so good just letting me use her, and I want to fucking cum down her throat any second but I bide my time and just thrust into her nice and slowly. I stop and pull out, a string of her spit still connecting us.
She gulps in some air and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, looking back up into my eyes. “Can I try to see how far I can go now, Daddy?” It’s like I created the perfect little cockslut.
“Yes, Babydoll, I want you to show me how deep you can take me. Now, be a good girl and suck Daddy’s dick.”
“Yes, Daddy.” She takes me in both hands, licking the underside of my dick then taking me in her mouth. I groan in the back of my throat. She gets about halfway and then begins a slow rhythm of stroking and sucking.
Not the best blowjob, but for a beginner? Damn fine first try. She takes direction well, she’s eager, and she looks so fucking cute while sucking a dick.
I feel the coil in my stomach tightening. I was so ready to cum down her throat, but her fucking face was so pretty I wanted to mark it as mine. I run a hand through the sweat-slick hair on my forehead before throwing my head back and grunting.
“Fuck, Babydoll. Daddy’s gonna cum all over that sweet little face...ugh, fuck, close your eyes!” I pull out and shoot rope after rope of thick milky cum over her beautiful perfect face. When her tongue slips out to taste what landed on her lips, I thought I would never stop cumming.
Slowing my stroke, I squeeze from the base to the tip of my dick, I wipe the last of my cum on her chin. Luckily, none of my cum hit her lashes or eyelids. When she opens her eyes, I smiled at her. I use my thumb to move a bit of my cum between her open lips and she sucks my thumb so sweetly.
I take back my thumb and place my hand on my chest to steady my breathing.
“Daddy, I’m tired now. Can we go to bed?” She yawns lazily and the glob of cum hanging from her chin dances.
I hold in my laughter and suggest, “Wash your face first, Babydoll. Then bedtime.” I take her hand and lead her into the bathroom so she can wash her face and I can use the can. She doesn’t seem to mind me taking a piss, but she isn't covert as she glances sidelong at my dick. I flush, wash my hands after she’s done and we enter the bedroom together.
I take off the majority of my clothes, then I decide I don’t need to wear anything. We’re out here free from prying eyes, might as well sleep comfortably. And if that makes it even easier access to that pussy, why not? Removing my boxer briefs, I turn to where Babydoll is going over to her suitcase, no doubt to look for pajamas.
“Babydoll, I want you to sleep naked tonight." I settle under the covers and make myself comfortable.
“Yes, Daddy.”
I watch as she pulls down her skirt and pulls off her sweater and undershirt. That tight little body bounced slightly as she made her way over to the bed. Climbing in, she pecks me on the lips and settles down on her side with her leg pulled up.
I turn to face her and wrap an arm around her waist, pushing her leg up a bit further with my own so I can slide the head of my dick into her tight wet heat. I groan lowly as she moans from the sudden intrusion.
“We’re gonna sleep with it inside tonight. I want you to just sleep and warm my cock at the same time.” I could feel her heartbeat racing and her breath quickening as he tries to keep herself calm.
“Yes, Daddy,” She wiggles her hips in the slightest, getting used to the fullness.
“Stay still, Babydoll. Daddy’ll fuck you in the morning, ok? For now, just rest, babygirl.” I angle my hips and aim for her g-spot and she’s putty in my hands.
“Daddy, just right there, please? Please please, I won’t ask for anything else. I promise!” I can’t see her face but I can hear how easily she could cry from the tension.
“Fine, fine. But I’m fucking you to sleep, Babydoll. You better cum for me when I tell you to.” I stay inside her while moving to kneel behind her, fucking into her into the mattress.
I lean over her, my hands holding her hips as I continuously kiss her cervix with the tip of my dick. Her moans are music to my ears, along with the slapping sounds of flesh that fill the dimly lit room. I can feel her walls start to tighten around me and reach under her leg for her clit.
“Cum for me, Babydoll. Cum all over Daddy’s dick, babygirl.” I pinch her little clit between my fingers and the dam breaks.
“Yes, Daddy!” Her toes curl and her core quivers around me. Her warm wetness coats my length and it’s even easier to fuck into her now. Once I hear the squelching sound of her wet pussy, I can’t help but chase my release.
“That’s my good girl. Just like that...Daddy’s gonna fuck this tight little princess hole til you can't take it anymore. You’re doing so good taking my cock, babygirl. Fuck...fuuuuuuck. Such a perfect little pussy for me to fuck. Shit! Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum. Ugh, fuck!” I pull out and cum all over her ass and back in heavy white stripes.
I get up to grab a wet washcloth to wipe away the evidence of my orgasm. Coming back, I realize she is down for the count. Wiping her down, she hums but soft snores are soon to follow.
Well, I meant what I said when I wanted to fuck her to sleep.
The next two days are a blur of time with Daddy. The only time he has to go do something alone is the day you left. You wake up and find a note saying that he had to run out. When he comes back, he is in a bad mood and takes it out on your pussy.
You both load your bags into the Escalade and start your trip home. You sleep most of the trip home, tired from your guts being rearranged. Instead of carrying you in the house, you get a soft nudge to wake up when you are back home.
"Take your suitcase in, Babydoll. I’ll be right behind you.” He pops the trunk and meets you at the back of the SUV. You pick up your bag and head inside, going straight to your room to drop your luggage.
It’s very quiet in the house and you wonder where your Mom could be. You check the Master bedroom and the bed is made but she’s not there. The kitchen is empty, and both bathrooms are as well. It wasn’t until something catches your eye in the backyard.
Something is floating in the pool. Not something. It is someone.
You go out to the patio, looking into the water you spot your Mother’s lifeless body in the water.
Before you know it, a blood-curdling scream is escaping you and the world turns black as you’re caught by two strong arms.
Part IV
A/N: Well, that was a doozy!!! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Guess I’ll just leave this here and see what y’all think.
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Sanity’s Last Stop
Synopsis
England 1941
Forced to work after the death of her father y/n finds themselves filling a nurses role at Hillsboro Asylum for the Criminally Insane. The patients and workers alike have her questioning her own sanity in this new insular world during WWII.
Ryoumen Sukuna has become a fixture in solitary confinement for the last seven years. His sanity was barely there before but now it is frayed beyond redemption. A good will gesture brings him and y/n into a strange secret relationship
Okkotsu Yuta swears he isn’t insane he didn’t hurt anyone it was Rika who killed those people. Just because no one else can see her doesn’t mean she isn’t there. You believe him right?
AN: So excited to post this! Horror Dark Romance are my favorite genres so this is not going to be the same as my main fic. Please check the tags and trigger warnings!
Setting is England WWII I realize all the characters have Japanese names but there is no avoiding it with the original source material.
TW: Misogyny, Gaslighting, Gore
I made up Takeda Geto all others are from JJK.
Chapter 1
Mind Your Fingers
England 1941
“Stupid girl, what did I tell you about watching your fingers!” The old nurse yells in your ear, just about making you jump out of your skin. You are watching your fingers. You are being painfully careful so as not to accidentally touch anywhere near the open metal slat at the bottom of the heavy iron door. There is a two inch drop from the door’s mail slot style opening to the ground. Your fingers begin to tremble as you hold the tin tray, full of some slop they called lunch, halfway through the opening. Waiting for the person on the other side to take the proffered meal. The tips of your fingers are starting to turn white as you are only able to barely hold the end of the tray. The weight of it strains against you.
“W-what do I do if he doesn’t come to take his tray?” You ask, trying to keep your voice steady and sounding somewhat confident.
“Ungrateful spawn of satan.” The elderly nurse Ogami bites out, causing you to flinch at her disgusting words, “Drop it then. He’ll eat it off the floor or he won’t eat.”
Your heart twists painfully at the cruelty displayed. Even though the people residing here have committed terrible crimes the residents are still mentally disturbed and rely on you for care. “There has to be a better way?”
Nurse Ogami rolls her eyes, heaving a sigh that is meant to relay her annoyance with you, “Move girl.” Despite the woman’s liver spotted and wrinkled fingers she has surprising strength in them as she snatches the tray away from you and unceremoniously pushes it to the floor with a clatter. “Keep up this belligerent attitude young lady and you’ll be out on your luck before the month is out. You may think your special with your young looks and connections but there’s no room for error here.” When the old woman spins to you she has a malicious gleam in silver eyes. “The girl you replaced lost three fingers one night. Stupid girl pushed her hand too far in. Ryoumen was waiting just out of her line of sight and the second he saw one of her pretty tan fingers he grabbed her arm and pulled her to her elbow through the food slot. Bit each of those fingers off like he was eating part of his lunch.” You can’t help but shiver and wonder how much of the woman’s story is actually true.
Straightening your bleached white nurse's frock, you meet her eyes and respectfully dip your head, “Thank you for the warning head nurse, I'll be more careful in the future.” You pull the metal lever that shuts and locks the opening you utilized at the bottom of the door. Moving the wooden stepping stool, you thought to bring today, you push it against the door so you can see through the barred and glass protected window at the middle point of the door.
The massive man inside is easy to spot in the expanse of white. His dull orange almost pink hair is a brilliant flare of color in the otherwise stagnant room. It is a wild mess on his head, stroked backwards from repeat combing motions with his fingers. He sits hunched over at the edge of his cot. His entire frame is hulking and muscular and you wondered how he manages to maintain his physique while trapped here. His elbows are resting on his knees, hands knitted together as they flex sporadically. His face is downturned so you could barely see the bizarre facial scarring he had given himself before his capture. “Inmate Ryoumen Sukuna is accounted for.” The old woman says nothing as you step down and mark up the piece of paper you brought with you to make sure each patient receives their proper medication and meal.
You tuck the wooden stool under your arm before going to push the squeaky metal cart down to the last patient in this wing. “Just one left.”
The elderly woman grunts, turning her back to you, “You always feed those in solitary confinement last. They are being punished after all. They’re lucky they get two meals a day and a warm place to sleep. We have noble men on the front line dying from frostbite with empty bellies.” You had heard around the lunch table yesterday that old lady Ogami, as the other girls called her, is especially bitter due to her precious grandson being shipped off to somewhere in Yugoslavia to fight the German scourge. You can’t blame her for being bitter but you don’t feel like that means you have to treat the patients here worse.
The final painted white metal door S25 looks the same as every other one in this wing. Before Mrs. Ogami could comment, you push up your stool and peer in. The young man in this room is almost the exact opposite physically of the man you had just tried to feed in room S23. He is lanky and thin looking; under fed and malnourished. The second your eyes meet the back of his head the man turns suddenly his eyes locking on yours. His dark raven colored orbs met your own. No particular emotion is held there; the man just looks exhausted. Painted under his eyes are large dark circles, his eyes rimmed in red. You couldn’t help but wonder if they are red rimmed from crying or maybe they always looked like that. “Patient present.” Stepping down carefully, you give the stack of papers in front of you a once over .
Patient: Okkotsu Yuta
Sex: Male
Age: 27
The paragraphs below outlined his lack of dietary constraints, medication required and any other doctors notes. You can’t help but notice his notes from the doctor today stated that due to his consistent compliance he is recommended to be moved back to the institution's general population next week.
You make sure his tray is together. Complete with a small paper cup that has two little chalky pills inside to lower his anxiety. Taking the iron lever in hand you tug so that the meal slot screeches open. After giving Ryoumen his tray only moments earlier you can’t help but keep your fingers as far to the back as possible as you leaned to slip the tray into the three inch slot.
The ward is unusually quiet at the moment and due to this you can hear the inmate’s bare feet padding across the tile flooring. You feel the weight of the tray being released from your fingers as the person on the other side takes it gently from you. The man clears his throat before a soft spoken voice emanates from the slot, “Thank you.”
You are surprised as this is the first person today to thank you, “You’re Welcome.” Your response probably sounded happier than it should have but the tiny bit of kindness gives your day a bit of a silver lining.
“You do not speak to those in solitary confinement!” You wince in response to being scolded again.
“I’m sorry, head nurse” You hear a voice on the other side of the door mumble the apology. You bite your cheek instead of replying before repeating the same closing procedures you did at S23. Though when you look up to confirm the inmate is accounted for he is no longer looking in your direction.
As the two of you leave the solitary ward, your long gray dresses swish below you. You still aren’t used to the way everything looks the same in this institution. All the walls are white and not a picture is to be found as decoration. The only thing creating breaks in the staggering white landscape is an occasional sign directing those inside to various locations (Dispensary, Lobby, Clinic) or reminders to staff (When distributing medications check under the patient’s tongue for hidden pills, For Emergency Security dial 99 or pull panic alarm).
Despite any minor complaints you are incredibly grateful to have this job. Not only is the pay more than fair but it is in the field of medicine where you have always held interest. Maybe after you learn the ropes you can make a difference in the lives of those who live here.
You both pause before the heavy set of double doors that lead from Solitary. Demonstrating to the head nurse you are in fact learning you pull the string that rings the brass bell on the other side of the door and wait for security to unlock the door and permit your exit. The wait for the security officers to release you seems to vary from seconds to minutes depending on what is going on across the complex. Your anxiety always seems to ratchet up in the time from when the bell is rung until the large metal lock thunks and the door swings open.
The security guard who greets you on the other side of the door is grinning from ear to ear as he looks you over. “Did you have fun in there?” Your eyes flick to him briefly before pretending you didn’t hear him. His features are handsome and boyish. His fluffy white hair and striking blue eyes have a habit of pinning you in place when he addresses you. His frame is tall and muscular not that you were looking. You didn’t have to look to know his shirt has the name tag Gojo on it.
When you started here you had barely gotten your foot in the door before you were being warned about him by your fellow nurses. He was labeled a notorious flirt and womanizer. One to avoid if you want to keep your reputation clean and above all other warnings, do not fall in love with him.
The older woman looks like she is about to scold you or maybe even Gojo this time when her train of thought is interrupted. “Ah, there you are Y/n.” The familiar soothing tone nearby makes you look over with surprise and fondness. The entire reason you had ended up working in this facility was due to your father’s long term friendship with the esteemed facility director Dr. Takeda Geto. His son, Dr. Suguru Geto and your childhood friend stopped short of your small group. You couldn’t help the quick flush that covered your cheeks, at the attention. You had hoped to assimilate into the facility with as little fanfare as possible. The newest man to the group stopped and placed a hand affectionately on Gojo as they shared an almost conspiratorial grin. On the outside the two couldn’t be more dissimilar but it seems they had also cultivated a long term friendship.
You quickly curtseyed in response, keeping your head down. Despite your friendship with Suguru you wanted to be accepted in this job by your own merits rather than who you knew. Even if being hired hadn’t worked that way.
“Well if it isn’t the young master Dr. Geto.” the old woman doted; the young part surprising you as Suguru Geto had to be in his thirties now. Her tone is much more engaged than it had been at any point during your training this week. You couldn’t help the tiny quirk of your lips in amusement at the drastic change of mannerism.
Looking up you see Suguru has turned to the woman to address her while Satoru Gojo’s eyes are still locked onto you. His cerulean orbs twinkling in a mischievous manner. He is clearly noting your amusement despite your attempt at hiding it. You can't help but lift your hand to your mouth and clear your throat to cover your expression. Suguru turns at the noise flashing you a gentle smile before pushing his glasses higher up his nose. “How has training been going today?”
You look away to study a nearby sign pointing to the Security Desk, “Head nurse Ogami has been very kind and thorough in my training.” you respond respectfully.
Suguru Geto makes a long humming noise while Satoru Gojo outright laughs at the obvious lie. Anyone who has met the head nurse knows about her taciturn personality. Suguru ignoring Gojo gives Nurse Ogami a charismatic smile before noting, “I would expect nothing less from Mrs. Ogami. You can’t help but note the lack of formality he uses when he addresses the older woman now. The fondness you see in her face is not missed by you as she speaks with him. You can’t really blame the woman. Suguru Geto has been known for his charm and good looks for as long as you have known him. His familial wealth and status don’t hurt his public perception either. “Mrs. Ogami, I'd like to borrow nurse y/n for my lunch break if it doesn’t interfere with your schedule too much.”
Surprise evident in your expression, you look up at Suguru quickly, “I’m sorry Dr. Geto I already took my lunch break today-.” At Suguru’s frown, the head nurse speaks over you.
“Not to worry Dr. Geto we have finished the afternoon rounds. Anything she needs to learn can be postponed until tomorrow.” You can’t help but look between the two of them in confusion. The last thing you desire at this point is any form of favoritism, especially in front of your new coworkers who may or may not know your prior connection to the director’s son.
“I-” you are unable to break the silence before Suguru smiles attentively at you, derailing any argument you were starting to craft as to why you shouldn’t go with him.
You see Suguru turn to nurse Ogami giving her a conspiratorial wink, “I owe you one, Mrs. Ogami.” the older woman brushes him off but a faint blush on her cheeks lets you know his words are far more effective than she lets on.
You feel obligated to thank her despite not wanting to go to lunch with Suguru in the first place, “Thank you Head Nurse.” You dip slightly in the appropriate curtsy before looking up at Suguru questioningly. The smile he gives you in response is benign as he gestures for you to follow him. When he walks past Gojo he clasps him on the shoulder before leaning forward to comment something into his ear that you aren’t privy to. The comment provokes a laugh out of Gojo before he heads back to the Security Office.
When you don’t immediately move to follow Suguru, he prods you verbally, “Shall we?” You don’t really have a choice in the matter. At least it feels that way, as you follow two steps behind him trying to keep a professional distance as he leads you to his office. You haven’t actually been in his office yet. Well, his fathers office. He leads you towards the entrance of the building where the directors office is situated. The location makes it easy for him to attend to visitors or in rarer cases government officials.
He takes a moment to unlock the door before gesturing you inside. Once in you take a quick look of the surroundings. Not much has changed in the furnishings since Suguru had unofficially taken over the room. His fathers medical licenses and diplomas have been swapped out for his own and the desk nameplate has been changed. Other than that all the bookshelves and desk items remain the same.
There are two chairs in front of the large oak desk and one behind it. “Please sit.” There is a tinkling noise at the door as you register he’s locking it from the inside with his keys. You can’t help the small shiver that races up your spine. Even if you have known Suguru the majority of your life the action seems strange and internal warning bells are ringing. He jerks the handle to ensure the door will not be opened by anyone other than himself before he opens his suit jacket and tucks the key ring into an inside pocket.
You sit as instructed but you are hardly relaxed. Your body leans towards the edge of your seat, “Why did you lock it?”
He raises a brow at you with a curious smile, “Does that make you nervous?” He moves around the desk to gather a few items, presumably his lunch.
You resolve yourself to sound unbothered as you decide to respond, “No.” The last thing you want to do is offend him.
To your surprise he comes back around to your side of the desk and sits in the chair next to you, “I hate being interrupted. A simple lock prevents that from happening. Besides, this place is full of unstable individuals. One can never be too safe.”
“I see.” You are trying to find a way to voice your concerns to him without being labeled with the tags that women are so often given for having boundaries.
He’s spreading out his lunch an easy going air to him as he leans back in his chain before crossing a leg over another, “Come on, give me a smile you look much prettier that way.”
You try but it doesn’t feel very convincing. You had only been here two days and you had noticed a fairly big change between Suguru’s attitude now and when you had known him before your fathers death.
All your interactions previously had been when Suguru and Dr. Takeda Geto had visited your family's estate in the countryside. The two of you had talked, played, and studied together every summer for years. Your fathers smoking cigars and drinking expensive brandy in the backdrop. Suguru has always been so shy, quiet, and respectful. Now within the property of the Hillsboro Asylum for the Criminally Insane he is still quiet and respectful but there is a confidence behind every movement he makes. He’s in an environment he fully controls and that factor isn’t lost on you.
He pulls out a sandwich and takes a bite; scrutinizes your uneasy expression, “Tell me what’s worrying that pretty little head of yours. You’ve been on edge since you got here.”
“Ah.” You can’t help but feel guilty. Dr. Takeda and Suguru have done so much for you the least you can do is be appreciative. You manage to muster a much more genuine smile, “I’m sorry Dr. Geto I-“
He gives a lazy laugh, his arm moves to rest behind your back on the chair you’re seated in, “You should just call me Suguru, Dr. Geto feels so stuffy.”
His fingers slowly gravitate to a strand of your hair that escaped your starched white nurses cap. He catches it within his fingers tugging it lightly.
You blush heavily at the intimate touch, “I’m worried about perceived favoritism. I don’t want to be treated any differently than the other employees. I want to assimilate with the other nurses.” He’s watching you closely and you can’t decipher his expression, his fingers still gently twirling in your hair. Your face grows heated, “Private lunches in locked offices won’t look proper.” It wasn’t just your reputation you were worried about even though that was a concern. You hoped to make friends out of the other nurses in this new place you would call your home.
Suguru leans back and considering your words a long humming noise escaping his throat. He sits forward, his elbows resting on his knees now as he takes you in. He has a soft smile on his lips but it isn’t quite meeting his eyes. “It’s a little late to worry about favoritism, don't you think? Why else would I have hired you if not for that? I could have hired any old local girl if not for my preference for you.”
You feel a lump growing on your throat. When Dr. Takeda visited just after your fathers recent passing the job he offered seemed like a lifeline. “I-I have knowledge in the field and experience with medication management-“
Suguru laughs out loud, cutting your words off, “Come now y/n. Sure you’ve read some books but you aren’t particularly bright. Women like you are a dime a dozen.” He takes a bite of an apple his tone conversational and casual. “With the job shortages around the country I have women lined up begging for work and you come here acting high and mighty with unwieldy demands.”
Your face flushes and your eyes burn at his comments, “I’m sorry Suguru I hadn’t considered-“
Suguru stands brushing off his pants and avoids making eye contact, “Of course you didn’t. You only consider your own feelings when all you should be worried about is what I think.” He moves to the door and unlocks it, his every movement laced with irritation. “Leave, your ungratefulness is souring my lunch.”
You quickly stand feeling like you're back in grade school and being dressed down for misbehavior. Suguru has always been so balanced and logical; you can’t help but know it must be you at fault for this disagreement, “I’m sorry Suguru, please forgive me. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful. Please don’t be cross with me.” Your tone is higher pitched and more vulnerable than intended. Your eyes glassy with held back tears.
He finally meets your gaze and sighs heavily, “You know I can’t be angry at you for long.” His hand comes up to your face as he softly rubs your cheek with his knuckles. The motion causing a tear to spill down your cheeks. He smiles at that, “There there. Go home for the day and put something nice on. Father and I expect you at dinner tonight, don’t be late.”
Your emotions are all over the place as you head for the exit to the Asylum. You are a fool to think you had been hired on your own merit despite the relationship between your family and Dr. Takedas.
The exit routine for the building takes several minutes. With many weighty doors unlocking and locking. When you reach the front entrance the process is just beginning for another man. The security seeing you approaching waves you forward into the same interlock area as the man to allow you both to do the exit procedures at the same time.
The young man looks up at you, his eyes a golden brown. He’s tall and well built but it is his facial scars that really catch your attention. A thick jagged line races between his eyebrows, the left side of his cheek and lip marred, and under both of his eyes are almost identical check shaped scars. Despite the rugged damage across his countenance when he looks up at you his face goes from a disappointed scowl to concern. “Hey are you okay?”
“Move forward!” A guard calls out ready for you to exit into the next man trap room.
You feel another tear roll down your cheek and you look at the kind face across from you etched with worry. He moves forwards toward you a step and it's only then you notice he is missing a leg, a wooden crutch is braced under one arm.
Embarrassment floods you as you try to wipe away any evidence of your tears. “Yes I’m terribly sorry. How unprofessional of me.”
He tilts his head to the side, the motion reminding you of dogs when confused. “Unprofessional? For having emotions?”
You don’t know how to respond to that. He studies you while the exit procedures are completed and you both find yourself outside in the cold winter air. “My names Yuji, Itadori Yuji.” He’s looking up at the gray cloudy skies with feigned interest, “I’m kinda here a lot. Visiting.” His gaze meets yours again as he gives you a smile that tilts a little on his damaged side. “I don’t think we’ve met yet though.”
Something about his smile is so disarming, “Oh, I’m Y/n L/n, I just started here a few days ago.”
His smile seems to grow brighter, his eyes twinkling with genuine happiness. It has been such a long time since you have seen that in a person. “Well maybe I’ll see you more often then!” He watches you a moment and you return his authentic happiness with a real smile of your own.
“I hope so Mr. Itadori.” He laughs outright at that which catches you off guard.
His grin is infectious, lazy and lopsided, “Mr. Itadori is my Grandpa. Yuji is more than fine.”
You nod the flush on your cheeks now from the cold and pleasant company rather than the shame and embarrassment moments earlier, “Alright, Mr. Yuji.”
He laughs in response, his tone rich. “Not exactly what I meant but that will do. Can I walk you home? I’m heading down to town now.”
The offer sounds nice and you probably would have accepted had it not been in the wrong direction, “I actually live in the nurse’s dorms on the property. Thank you for the offer. I enjoyed our chat and hope we will get to talk again in the future.” You give a quick bob of a curtsey as he gives a jaunty wave in return.
“Nice meeting you Miss L/n!” As he turned to make the slow trek down the lane to the main road you couldn’t help but look back at him. He has the strangest hair color. Despite the rarity of the bright orange pink shade it is strikingly familiar.
#jujutsu kaisen#ao3 fanfic#jujustsu kaisen x reader#quinnyficrelated#ao3 writer#jjk x reader#sukuna x reader#ryoumen sukuna#okkotsu yuta#yuta okkotsu#dark romance#dubious consent#eventual smut#quinnythelibrary
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shut the door
Pairings: Commander Wolffe x Jedi Fem!Reader
Words: 2538
Warnings: Ahsoka, Fives and Kix being little shits. Reader getting hella submissive real quick. Wolffe going from shy to dominant even quicker. Lots of touching and biting. Implied smut.
Summary: You try to play a prank on Ahsoka, but it backfires...in a good way.
A/N: I don't know what this is to be honest. I just saw this video of a couple where the wife throws cold water over her husband while he was in the shower and then he dragged her into the water, and my mind immediately came to this fic. Also, I still have @cloned-eyes lovely art work engraved in my mind so that's the Wolffe I'm picturing here. Enjoy my lovely clone simps.
“That’s it, tell me when it’s time to leave.” Ahsoka says as she stands up and walks towards the door connecting your room with the others’.
“Wait, where are you going? You can’t just leave in the middle of an undercover mission.” You call after her, checking to make sure that Rex and Anakin were still looking out for the target.
“We’ve been here for days, and I feel unclean. I won’t take too long.” She ignores your response as she grabs a towel and some clothes to change into.
“You’re going to leave me with those two by myself?” You ask her again, not caring for how both men react to the indirectly offensive question.
“Hey! What is that supposed to mean?” Anakin calls back, muttering something beneath his breath when he sees Rex laughing at the three of you. You shake your head at Anakin, only to turn around and miss Ahsoka walking to the refresher. Glancing at the rest of the men in your company, you see them shrug their shoulders and get back to whatever conversations they were in the middle of. You think there is a smirk on Fives’ face but it goes away as soon as you notice it. Thinking nothing of the matter, you’re about to walk back to the other room when Fives and Kix call for you.
“Say General, we heard you and the other Generals like to play pranks on each other all the time. Is that true?” Fives asks and you narrow your eyes at him briefly, wanting to know why he was questioning you about this all of a sudden.
“Y..yes, why do you ask?” You cross your arms and scan the room, wondering why everyone became quiet and were intently staring at you.
“Well, we just didn’t peg you for someone who- well, you know.” He rubs his neck and refuses to finish whatever he was about to tell you.
“What? You think I don’t know how to have fun?”
“We didn’t say that, it’s just-” Kix starts to respond but you shake your head at him, silencing him instantly. You study the rest of the men quickly before smiling at Fives’ sudden anxiety.
“It’s okay if you think I’m boring. I just don’t see the point of revealing all my cards at once, especially when I know I can have a bit of fun being sneaky.”
“That sounds nice and everything General, but I just don’t believe you.” Fives takes a step forwards and trails his eyes down your form, smirking to himself when he sees that he has your undivided attention.
“Is that right?” You raise a curious eyebrow at him, completely missing the way Kix was looking around the room and telling everyone to get ready.
“I think you’re all bark and no bite.” Fives adds for extra measure, barely managing to hold back from laughing when your expression turns less playful and more dangerous.
“Hmm, watch and learn boys.” It’s all the warning they get before you’re walking towards the kitchen and filling up a large pitcher of water with ice cold liquid, grabbing a handful of ice cubes from the fridge while chuckling at the shift in expressions suddenly taking over the room.
“The key for a good prank is, you do it when your target is unsuspecting.” You whisper to them as you make your way to the refresher and unlock the door as softly as you can. The sound of running water fills the silence of the room and you smile one last time at Fives before you take a few steps into the cloudy space. Again, you’re so invested in making no sound that you miss how each of the clones prepares to exchange the figda they managed to steal from the rooms they’ve stayed in. Turning one last time to look at Fives and Kix, you purse your lips and stand on your tiptoes, barely managing to hold back from laughing as you tilt the pitcher and empty its cold contents on Ahsoka.
Or, the person you thought was Ahsoka.
“Ahh fucking hells,” the sound of a rather gruff, angry man breaks the silence of the room and you look back in horror as you see Boost and Sinker double over in laughter while Kix and Fives pull Ahsoka from underneath the bed.
You drop the pitcher from your hand, and as you try to leave the refresher, a hand reaches out from behind the shower curtain and grabs onto your wrist. You look down in shock and fear, already knowing who the man behind the curtain is and trying to think of anything to tell him once he realizes it was you who just ruined whatever little break he was probably attempting to enjoy.
“Come here,” he growls into the damp air and pulls you towards him, swearing beneath his breath when you topple over and fall at his feet.
You know you should shut your eyes, perhaps even vomit a string of apologies at him so he doesn’t report you to the council for inappropriate behavior. But the quick movement sends your head flying into the wall and you scream out in pain before you reach for the back of your head while yelling at him to calm down.
“Calm down Wolffe, I didn’t know it was-” the words die in your throat as soon as you look up and see the Commander of the 104th in all his naked glory. You try not to roam your eyes across his impressive form, you really do, one look at his flushed face and suddenly shy gaze, and you know you have to look anywhere but above his neck. The sound of laughter and howling dies out the longer your eyes move down his body and scrutinize the tattoos etched all over his muscular torso.
You’re not sure how long you sit there staring at him, but when he clears his throat and pushes his hands over his crotch, you remember quickly where you are and who it is you’re ogling, and you immediately look down and away from him.
But not before you notice how much he has to stretch his palms and fingers so he can hide himself from your curious gaze.
“G-general.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that Wolffe was turning a bit more submissive with the way he addressed you reluctantly.
“Commander, I uhhh…I didn’t know you had so many tattoos.” It’s not what you want to say, but it is what leaves your mouth as you try to take off your outer robes so you can hand them to the naked man standing not two feet away from you.
“Kriff!” He swears at you, taking a few steps back so he doesn’t accidentally frighten you with how his body is reacting to your proximity.
“Sorry no, I mean- I…I didn’t know you were the one in the refresher.”
“Who the hell did you think was in here?” You’ve known Wolffe for a long time. Granted you never spoke with him as often as others, but you knew him well, like how he tends to become when he’s embarrassed or uncomfortable.
He doesn’t mean to sound so awkward or rude, but you knew that it was highly unlikely he’s ever experienced something like this, and he probably didn’t know what or how he should be behaving, especially since one of his commanding officers was now in the refresher with him.
“It d-doesn’t matter any way…I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t have- ah, kriff it. Just take this for now until I decide how I’m going to deal with that shabuir.” You throw your robe at him and force yourself to turn away while he hides behind the wet fabric.
“Fives or Boost?” He asks as he stops moving, making you turn around to look at him as you answer his question.
“Ahsoka!” You mutter out in anger, not missing the way he smiles and avoids your gaze when he sees you looking into his eyes again.
“Well, I hate to break it to you but…whatever it is the General did, I’m sure Five and Boost are in on it as well.” He’s trying to diffuse the tension, that you know for sure, but you still can’t help yourself from studying the tattoos visible to your eyes. You wonder briefly if he’d ever said anything about them before, but you quickly remember who it is you’re thinking about and you shake your head in response.
“Something on your mind, General?” Wolffe’s tone shifts a little, and when you finally meet his gaze again, you find something strange looking back at you.
Something way too sensual and intimate to be considered as just friendly.
“I was just thinking that- umm, I was wondering if you had ever told me about your tattoos and I just forgot or-” You gulp nervously as soon as you notice him tilt his head to the side and stare into your eyes. His jaw clenches tightly and you follow the movement down, watching with fascination as the muscles on his neck and chest flex when they feel you settle on them.
“Hmm,” Wolffe hums lowly as he takes one step towards you, making you back away from him underneath the running water again.
“Or if…” You can’t find the rest of the thought, unable to focus on anything but the way Wolffe was pretty much eye-fucking you now.
“Or what…General?” The honorific rolls off his tongue so lewdly, making you nearly trip over the rest of your robes and topple over again.
You feel a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist in an instant, preventing you from hitting your head again. Grabbing onto Wolffe’s shoulders, you blink hazily a few times before you slowly look up into the Commander’s eyes. He’s abandoned the cloak you gave you, leaving himself completely bear to your hungry needs.
You’re about to ask him if he is just toying with you like the others when you hear a couple of them whisper just from outside the door. Wolffe glances to the side and narrows his eyes at the men behind the curtain. When he turns back around to look at you again, he finds you completely enraptured by him. He smiles down at you, nudging your nose with his own before laying the softest of kisses near the corner of your mouth.
“Why don’t you be a good girl for me and shut the door, mesh’la?”
His question doesn’t make much sense to your dazed mind, and you reach up to try and properly kiss him, but he averts his face and leans down to bite into your throat, chuckling to himself when your breath hitch and you dig your nails into his shoulders.
“As much as I’d love to give the boys something to talk about, I am a selfish man baby…and I want you all to myself.” He whispers against you as he begins to unravel all the knots keeping your body from him.
“Be a good girl, and shut the door…or do you want them to watch me fuck you hard like the sweet Jetii’ika I know you are?” Your knees give out as soon as he growls those filthy words in your ears, but Wolffe’s hold on you prevents you from falling yet again. You want to punch him for being so smug and chuckling at you, but you know that you wouldn’t have him any other way. The way he squeezes your hips lights a fire in your chest, and your breathing grows erratic as soon as he slides one hand around your back and pushes your body into his own, giving you a taste of what’s to come.
“W-Wolffe, please.” You plead with a whine, parting your lips for him as he leans down and hovers his mouth over your own.
“Shut the door, cyar’ika…and I promise you I’ll deal with them later.” Not a second later, the door to the refresher slides shut suddenly, making half of the men outside scream rather embarrassingly. You giggle along with Wolffe, but the laughter dies when you notice the way he's staring at you.
Licking your lips, you throw your arms around his neck and pull yourself up until you’re at eye-level with him.
“What if…what if I want something else?” You ask right before molding your lips with his own in a heated kiss. You feel Wolffe harden against you, his fingers trying to unfasten your robes from your body while the other hand combs into your hair and tugs on it harshly.
“Hmm, maybe you’re not a good girl after all.” Wolffe teases as he pushes your cloak and shirt down your shoulders, ripping the corners of them as he tries to get them off quickly.
“Believe me Commander, I can be whatever you want me to be…on one condition.” You giggle when he kneels down and grumbles in irritation at how difficult it is to remove the wet fabrics from your body. He ignores you until he’s rid you of what you’re wearing, the only thing shielding you from his eyes clinging deliciously around your hips.
“Name it sweetheart.” Wolffe promises, refusing to keep his hands off of you as he stands to his height and trails his hands across your nude skin.
“I want your cock, I want you to fuck me so hard till I can’t remember anything but your name.” Wolffe stands there without uttering a single sound, studying you closely to make sure you are confident in what you want from him. He can feel you scratch along the tattoos over his arms and chest, and he reminds himself to ask you later which one you liked most. He roams his gaze across your features, pretending to go for another kiss and twisting you in his arms as soon as you shut your eyes in surrender.
He shoves you against the cold wall, holding your arms above your head and thrusting his hard cock in between your ass cheeks when you try to wrestle away from his hold. You try to glance to the side but Wolffe sinks his teeth into the back of your shoulder, causing you to cry out in ecstasy and pain from the sensation.
“Ah fuck, p-please Wolffe.” He’s all hard muscles and heated skin against your back, making you wish you weren’t currently on a mission so you can worship him like he deserves.
“That’s it mesh’la, beg for me.” You think he’ll toy with you longer, the thought making you whine and moan more for him more, hoping that the sounds you’re making are enough for him to end your misery and fuck you into oblivion.
But then he grabs his cock and slips it underneath the band of your panties, and you hold your breath in anticipation, preparing yourself for how full you will feel when he finally shoves his dick into your heat and fills you to the brim.
“C-Commander, please…use me.”
It’s all Wolffe needs to hear to step over the invisible line that’s long separated the two of you from giving into your desires.
“Sir yes sir.”
#commander wolffe x reader#commander wolffe/reader#commander wolffe#wolffe/reader#wolffe x reader#cc 3636 x reader#cc 3636/reader#the clone wars#star wars#commander wolffe smut#wolffe smut
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on a springlike, summer day (i’ll engrave your name in my heart for the first time)
pairing; non-idol!hyunjin x fem!reader
genre: fluff! proposal fic :)
word count: 0.6k~
warnings: proposal/engagement! jisung being a lil bit of a menace.
daisy’s notes: theyre in luv ur honor
Hyunjin had brought you to a flower field for your birthday. Not just any flower field, but the one he asked you to be his girlfriend at.
The two of you had walked through it after a few dates together, and he’d asked you if you wanted to be exclusive--before immediately saying as his girlfriend right afterward. He’d been a bit more flustered than you had expected, but that had been a little over three years ago, and he was... different now. He was holding your hands, talking about how he had reservations for a place you loved. He’d been planning today for a while.
Truly, Hyunjin was a romantic. But you knew that already.
His thumb traced over the back of your hand. “Did you enjoy breakfast this morning? You mentioned going out with some friends...”
With a hum, you nodded. “Things were great. They asked about you, y’know.”
“What did you tell them?”
You swung your connected hands. “That my boyfriend needed his beauty sleep--”
He groaned at you. “I would have gone if you asked!”
“I know,” you squeezed his hand. “But it was a friend thing. Maybe we can all get together sometime soon.”
He nodded. “Maybe for the party...”
“Huh?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Just... Thinking about the future.”
Yet you knew what you heard. You sighed, pouting a little at him. “Did you plan a surprise party? Hyunjin...”
“No! No, I didn’t--” He stopped with you, turning to pluck a tiny flower from its spot--something that’d get him scolded, if someone were watching, but it was one that wouldn’t be missed. “I wouldn’t spill that so easily...”
“Then what party?”
He turned back, reaching out to slip the flower behind your ear. “I love you,” he said. “And... I know how I feel about you. You can say no,” he let go of your hand, slowly sinking down onto one knee.
“Hyunjin--”
He had pulled out a little box from his jacket pocket, popping it open. The gemstone was one of your favorites, while the ring itself was relatively plain. Not that it mattered: you had gasped as he looked at you. “I know we’re young,” he said. “And you can say that and I won’t bring it up again. But... I want to marry you,” he said quietly, taking your hand in his. “And if you say not yet, I’ll wait. Will you--”
You were already nodding, fighting back tears. He lit up with joy at the answer, already slipping the ring onto your finger as he stood back up. He kissed you, holding your face in his hands before mumbling against your lips how much he loved you...
Only for the sound of yelling to catch both of you off guard. He turned to where a few of his friends had been hiding nearby for pictures, Jisung making the biggest fuss of them all.
“For real?!” He called out, “She said yes?!” And then a groan. “Now I owe him money...”
Hyunjin let out a yell. “Why do you owe him money?! Did you think she’d say no?”
Felix plucked a leaf from his hair. “He thought you were going to chicken out,” he said, amusement coloring his voice.
Hyunjin left your side, yelling again after Jisung, who took off running. He only got a few steps away from you before huffing, arms crossed across his chest. You merely giggled, making your way over to him.
“Think of it this way,” you took his arm. “They didn’t doubt my answer.”
He looked at you with a slight pout, but let it melt away. “True...” He turned back to you, leaning in for another kiss. “Happy birthday,” he said quietly. “Let’s keep this a secret for a few days. Today’s still your day.”
And you knew Hyunjin well enough to know what sentiment was hidden in his words: I couldn’t wait anymore. I love you too much.
taglist: @twancingyunhao
#wooahaes.fic#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids imagine#skz imagine#stray kids x you#skz x you#hyunjin fluff#hyunjin x reader#hwang hyunjin x reader#hwang hyunjin fluff#hyunjin x you#wooahaes.23
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The Mystery of Love - Andrei Svechnikov
Pairing: college!Andrei Svechnikov x fem!OC
Summary: Boston University senior Vivian Adams is the quintessential Miss Terrier - President of her sorority and star student, with big aspirations waiting for her as soon as she crosses the stage at graduation. What will happen when she gets paired with her ex-boyfriend and BU’s hockey star, Andrei Svechnikov, for the biggest project of her college career? College AU.
Word Count: 11.8K
Author’s Note: I wrote this for @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 for @antoineroussel’s Winter Fic Exchange! I won’t lie, when I first received my match I had a minor (major) freak out (Demi can confirm). I admire you and your writing so much, Nat, and I was petrified of creating something for someone I think is one of the best writers on this site. Thank you for (unknowingly) challenging me to create something that felt worthy to gift to you. I hope you enjoy!
Huge S/O to Demi for beta-ing, dealing with my thousands of messages, and reminding me to be more confident in myself. And to @suitandtys for her endless support and being a sounding board (+ for the 90210 inspiration). 🖤
Warnings: Language, alcohol use/mention, smut (18+ ONLY), unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), some angst, some fluff, brief mentions of/references to anxiety, Greek life themes/mention.
NHL Masterlist / Moodboard
When Vivian Adams met Andrei Svechnikov, she had no idea just how much he would impact her. Sure, he was handsome—anyone could see that—but he was also sweet, charming, and incredibly caring, and he understood her in a way that others couldn’t. He might not have been her “ideal type”, but he certainly became the one that made all of the others irrelevant.
If she thought about it, it was no surprise how she fell for him as fast as she did. He lived in the dorm building next to hers, discovered at some “Back to School Bash” during their freshman year at Boston University. It was awkward, but so was everyone there, searching for connections to make with people that would very likely shape their college experience as Terriers.
Vivian stood uncomfortably to the side with her roommate and a few others from their dorm, doing her best to mingle with other nervous freshmen. There were only so many times she could ask, “Where are you from?” and “What’s your major?” before she started to go insane.
But then, a tall, handsome boy approached her to join his volleyball team, gesturing to the sand court behind him. Andrei. All he needed to do was smile, and Vivian was gone. Soon enough, they were meeting for breakfast at the cafeteria, having weekly lunch in between classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays after psych lecture hall, and meeting up to study in the common room of her dorm with their other friends.
The friendship came quickly, and the romance wasn’t far behind. Andrei found comfort in Vivian’s soft smile and innocent nature, while Vivian felt at home in Andrei’s warmth and his inner child. It was like a movie, the pretty girl paired with the athlete, though instead of the football team’s star quarterback, he was a grungy hockey player. Regardless, he certainly had the good looks of the leading man, with prominent muscles and a dimple that could melt anyone’s heart. When Vivian joined a sorority and began climbing the social ranks of Terrier Nation, having a handsome athlete for a boyfriend certainly didn’t hurt her standing.
Their relationship made it through the summer, a difficult distance since Andrei went back to Russia to spend time with his family. Through regular video calls and frequent texts, they maneuvered the time difference as well as they could have, trying to enjoy their breaks while still looking forward to when they could be together again in Boston.
Despite the familiarity of campus and routines, fall semester of their sophomore year brought new challenges: more advanced classes, an Alpha Zeta leadership position, a part time job, and heightened expectations of a big year for BU men’s hockey. Andrei and Vivian carried the wisdom of sophomores who had learned lessons the previous year, but still had the naïveté of 19-year-olds navigating their newfound freedom. Their reunion after a summer apart was wonderful, but the feeling was short lived.
Between the hockey schedule, extracurricular obligations, and their regular coursework, Andrei and Vivian struggled to find free time to spend together. More often than not, their schedules conflicted; when Andrei was free, Vivian had class; when Vivian had a break, Andrei had practice. It became increasingly frustrating, only having time together at night, and even then, Andrei often fell asleep moments after his head hit the pillow.
Change was inevitable, but that didn’t mean they weren’t dreading it.
The day they broke up was dark. Literally. It was storming outside, rain falling in heavy sheets as students ran for cover under their umbrellas and the awnings of campus buildings. Having forgotten her umbrella that day, Vivian got back to her dorm room drenched. With a rare two free hours before her herNetwork (an organization for women in business) meeting, she planned to take a nap before heading early to the library to knock out an assignment, but was instead met with Andrei waiting anxiously at her dorm.
Truthfully, Vivian had been feeling distant from Andrei, too, but genuinely hadn’t had any time to think about it between her Alpha Zeta obligations, planning the herNetwork fundraiser, and heading into the last stretch of the semester before winter break. Andrei was equally busy with travel, his season in full swing, along with keeping up with the rest of his schoolwork, but he couldn’t deny that the distance from Vivian was tearing him apart.
It wasn’t what she expected when she saw him, dark circles under his eyes and an uneven, patchy shadow of hair growing along his jawline. But as he sat on the edge of her bed, sadness in his eyes, it was both of their hearts that broke that day.
In the end, it was a mutual decision; not for lack of love, but simply due to the rift that had grown between them as their other responsibilities took priority. Andrei held her as she cried, staining his faded BU Hockey t-shirt with her tears. Their last hug was warm, but bittersweet, as Vivian did her best to soak in the last traces of his cologne on her sweatshirt.
Vivian wasn’t bitter, or even regretful; the only thing she regretted was that it hadn’t worked out. Andrei was such a kind, wonderful person, humble despite having every reason not to be, and she knew he’d have success wherever he went. Truth be told, she hadn’t really thought much about their future, past their wonderful BU bubble, but after they broke up, she realized how different their paths were. Andrei was destined to be an NHL star, while Vivian would surely make Forbes’ 30 Under 30 list at some point. Their lives just didn’t mesh – and she had to come to terms with that.
Two years later, Vivian was in the last semester of her senior year, fulfilling and exceeding every expectation set in front of her. President of her sorority and herNetwork, star student, expecting to graduate summa cum laude with a double major in Business and Finance and undoubtedly multiple full-time job offers, Vivian Adams was the quintessential Miss Terrier.
Andrei was also in his last semester, though his college career had taken him on a much different path, focused almost solely on hockey. Drafted by the Carolina Hurricanes, he hoped to have a record senior season before heading to Raleigh to live out his dream of playing in the NHL. The Bachelor’s degree in Business was just a backup, a safety net, should things not work out. But, given that he was a shoe-in for the Hobey Baker and already expected to be a Calder finalist in his first season, his future seemed all but cut out for him.
As their social circles had drifted apart over time, Vivian and Andrei didn’t see each other much, the run-ins at bars and parties less than frequent but not entirely nonexistent. Their ties to the business school kept them in each other’s lives, albeit on the fringes, often passing each other in the hallways on the way to class. Though they rarely spoke outside of the occasional smile or wave, they had a few classes together over the years, a familiar comfort having him in the back of the classroom.
So, Vivian wasn’t overly surprised to walk into her capstone class to find Andrei already seated in the last row, scrolling on his phone. She settled into her own spot, across the room from him, just out of habit, though she offered a small smile when he looked up from his phone and saw her looking at him.
‘Nervous’ wasn’t quite the proper word to use to describe how she felt about her capstone class, but it was close. As she listened to Professor Janes explain the partnered project, she became increasingly anxious and excited to get started. An intimidating semester-long project, surely the biggest one of her college career, it included bidding for company-sponsored projects with varying focuses ranging from marketing to strategy to operations, all ultimately culminating in a presentation of the proposal and recommendations in front of the company’s executives at the end of the semester. No doubt a successful presentation could result in a potential job offer, or at the very least, very crucial networking for a young professional about to head into the real world. In short, a lot of close personal time with whoever she was paired with, and a lot riding on their mutual partnership.
Then, add in the fact that Professor Janes mentioned she’d be assigning partners rather than letting them select their own, an additional layer of suspense tacked on. Her justification was, unfortunately, sound, being that they wouldn’t have the luxury of picking their teammates and coworkers in the ‘real world’, and it was important to learn how to work with someone you may not know very well.
Fortunately—or unfortunately—for Vivian, she knew her assigned partner a little too well and nearly dropped her phone when she received the email from Professor Janes later that week. She read it over three separate times, part of her in disbelief when she saw her partner’s name listed beside hers.
Adams, V. / Svechnikov, A.
Then she saw his name pop up in a text, and she knew it was real.
[Andrei Svechnikov:] Well this is gonna be fun
[Andrei Svechnikov:] Should we meet for coffee to talk about it?
[Andrei Svechnikov:] The project, I mean
With a deep breath, Vivian’s eyes traced over his name in her phone, a brief but powerful rush of memories flying through her. Somewhere along the way—she didn’t remember when—she’d changed his name from ‘Drei 💖’ to his full name, sans emoji. Looking at it now, so formal and impersonal, it made her heart ache just a little bit.
[Vivian:] Brian’s at 2pm tomorrow?
January
Coffee wasn’t awkward, but it was the first time they’d spent real time together since they broke up two years prior. To Andrei, Vivian had only gotten more beautiful in time, her confident nature making her even more attractive as she’d grown up; seeing her up close only solidified his thought with her long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders. She still wore the same perfume—wafting into his senses even from afar as she approached—and Andrei had to distract himself from the rush of feelings that flooded his system at the scent by waving to a friend passing by behind her.
“Some project, huh?” he asked, watching her slide into the high-top stool across from him.
Vivian glanced at him and shook her head in disbelief. “It’s an awesome project. Real world problems for real world companies—it’s such good exposure. It’s just also, you know, kind of petrifying at the same time, for the same reason.”
“I’m paired up with the smartest girl in the program,” he grinned. “I know I’m gonna be fine.”
Vivian rolled her eyes, brushing off his compliment. “You’re smart, too, Andrei.”
“I’m a hockey player,” he said with a shrug. “I’m only as smart as I need to be, and as long as it doesn’t interfere with competing for the Natty.”
“Andrei, this is the most important project of our lives. I need you to be as smart as possible, not only as smart as you need to be. You may already have your next step laid out for you, but I don’t have that luxury. Not all of us can be prospects for an up-and-coming NHL team.”
His eyebrow quirked, amused at her worry. “You know about that?”
He watched Vivian’s eyes widen slightly, shifting uncomfortably as she admitted to following news about Andrei even after they’d broken up. She cast her eyes down, thumb running along the seam of the cardboard sleeve on her coffee cup, as if searching for an excuse. “It’s hard not to know.”
“But you still did your research. The Canes aren’t even in the Bruins’ division.” He grinned again, pleased with her admission and the knowledge that she’d gone out of her Boston bubble to investigate his future plans. “You looked me up!”
With a roll of her eyes, she nudged his leg with her foot. “Shut up. Of course I did.”
Feigning pain, Andrei grabbed his ankle with both hands, giving a dramatic cry. “Ouch! You better be more careful around these superstar legs.”
“Can we talk about the project now?” she sighed, shaking her head at his antics. Andrei conceded, though he noticed the small smile that played at the corner of her lips as she pulled her laptop out of her bag, pleased at his ability to still make her laugh.
February
After selecting their project—a review of an eCommerce site’s operations and subsequent marketing plan—it was easy for Vivian to morph into planning mode, creating a project timeline and documenting each necessary step to get there. From there, they worked together to divvy up the work, scheduling weekly meetups at the library to review and discuss their findings and any hiccups.
Andrei was unexpectedly easy to work with, accepting the pieces she assigned him without complaint. Sure, he was still more committed to hockey than the project, but he still managed to complete his work (almost always by the deadline), and usually with minimal nudging on her end. He was a hard worker, always had been; she saw it every time he stayed late after practice to work on his one-timer, or the time he spent studying at the library, his thermos of tea gone cold beside him while he worked on his flashcards. He was smarter than she remembered, too, certainly not relying solely on her brain but contributing his own valuable insight and analysis to the project, even pointing out a hiccup she would have otherwise missed.
A lot had changed in two years, but Vivian was surprised to find that many things stayed the same, too.
Andrei still had the same endearing laugh, the one that made his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, and the same goofy sense of humor and positive attitude that she fell in love with. He still stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth when he concentrated hard, and sometimes still muttered to himself in Russian when reading an English article.
Vivian was equally surprised that he still remembered her coffee order. About three weeks into their weekly library meetings, he started bringing a fresh cup for her—iced, with toffee nut syrup and a splash of almond milk—occasionally adding something different, like cold foam or an extra pump of vanilla syrup. It was a sweet gesture, something she continually offered to pay for, that he would wave off and smile, saying ‘it was the least he could do’ because she was the one keeping the project afloat.
Mostly, Vivian was startled by how easily she fell back into stride beside him. Things were different; she’d changed, and so had he, but the foundation of their relationship was still strong, having weathered the storm of time. While part of her felt like she was getting to know him all over again, there were parts of her that felt like she was reuniting with an old friend—and in some ways, she supposed, she was.
Having Andrei thrust back into her life wasn’t something she was expecting, and she was unprepared for how having him in such close proximity would affect her. Though they were amiable, she tried to keep him at arm’s length out of pure precaution, keeping the majority of conversation about the project and surrounding schoolwork. But, of course, it was only inevitable that there were extra details thrown in now and again; a synopsis of his latest game, his brother’s success in the NHL, his upcoming Finance exam.
As the weeks went on, she began to piece together the parts of him that she’d missed, adjusting to the way it felt to have him reclaim a regular place in her life. The details of him that she’d forgotten, like his missing tooth and the way his hair flipped out slightly at the ends when it got long, came trickling back into her conscience, unexpected but not entirely unwanted.
On the nights where their project work went late, Andrei would walk her home, refusing to let her walk on campus alone at night. They’d laugh, tell stories, joke around about the crush Andrei had on Professor Janes. It was subtle, patient, slow in the way the rift between them began to shrink, a small but crucial crack in the hardened shell around their hearts.
The project itself was going swimmingly. It was everything else surrounding the project that was confusing.
Andrei was deep in an article about eCommerce operations, Vivian typing away across from him, when the buzzing of Andrei’s phone startled them both. With a glance at the screen, Andrei grimaced when he saw his Coach’s name appear. Sending an apologetic glance in Vivian’s direction as he stood, he stepped toward the door to take the call in the hallway.
“Hey, Coach. I’m at the library. What—?”
“I just got the midterm reports, Svechnikov. A ‘D’ on your Finance exam?”
Andrei’s eyes closed and he sighed, bringing a hand to his temple. “I know, it was a bad exam.”
“I don’t have to remind you what failing your classes looks like for both this team and your future.”
“I know, Coach. I hear you.”
There was an edge of empathy in the otherwise cool frustration of his Coach’s voice. “I understand that it can be difficult to juggle school and sports, but the rest of your teammates are doing just fine.”
Andrei choked out a weak I’m trying, doing his best not to give his Coach unnecessary attitude.
“Get a tutor if you have to. Playoffs are only a month away, and I need you to have your shit together. Okay?”
“Okay,” Andrei sighed.
“I’m serious, Svechnikov.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“Okay. See you at practice later.”
“Yeah. See you.”
With another frustrated sigh, Andrei hung up the phone and ran a hand through his hair while he composed himself. When he moved back toward the door, he noticed that it was cracked open and prayed that Vivian couldn’t hear his conversation.
“Everything okay?” she asked once he came back in, not glancing up as she continued typing on her laptop.
“Yeah,” he smiled, settling back into his seat and returning his attention to his own laptop screen, though he couldn’t bring himself to resume his article perusal, staring blankly at the cursor on his document.
There was a moment of pause as Andrei assumed Vivian bought his lie, his Coach’s voice echoing in his head. Then, her voice broke the silence. “Does your coach always call you to ask about your exams?”
Andrei’s eyes shot to hers, a mix of surprise and embarrassment flooding his body as he realized she’d heard the conversation. Fuck.
“It’s nothing,” he said with a half smile, attempting to brush off the encounter nonchalantly.
“Andrei,” Vivian said softly. The warmth in her brown eyes told him that she saw right through him, just like she always did.
There was another pregnant pause as he debated if he should open up, a pivotal turning point in their relationship coming upon him all at once. Something unseen inside of him pushed him to go on, and reluctantly, he admitted, “My grades are… bad. If I fall below a 2.6 GPA, I’ll be on academic probation and I can’t play.”
“What are you at?”
“2.74.”
Vivian was unable to stop the sharp intake of breath at his confession, which caused Andrei to look at his lap bashfully. He wrung his hands together, twisting them as he sat in his discomfort and shame, embarrassed in front of his ex-girlfriend who had only ever received one ‘C’ in her life. It was a miracle she’d ever been interested in him, the dumb jock, in the first place, only logical for the smartest girl in school to move on to someone bigger and better than him.
“I’m working on it,” he said quickly, in defense of himself. “It was just a bad exam. I’m shit at Finance. It’ll be fine.”
She didn’t have to say anything, instead watching him understandingly, reading right through his confident facade. Her eyebrows raised, silently telling him she knew he was feeding her bullshit, and before he knew it, the words were spilling out of his mouth, a confession of his guilt and worry for his future. He had made the decision to stay in school, finish his degree before heading to the NHL despite the fact that he would’ve been eligible after his junior year. He felt like a failure, delaying his hockey career to get a degree that, at that point, he wasn’t even sure he was capable of getting, afraid of flunking out before the semester’s end—in which case, all of it would have been a waste.
“I’ll help you.”
“You what?”
“I’ll help you. I can tutor you.”
“Viv, you don’t have to—”
“Andrei,” she said firmly, “my grades are tied to yours now. If you’re not doing well, then I’m not either.”
“But Alpha Zeta, and—”
“We’re already here together once a week. It’s not a big deal to add on some homework, too.”
She had a point. And she was one of the smartest in his class, majoring in Finance. It really would only just be a little extra help here and there. If he was being honest with himself, it would be silly for him to decline.
His eyes held with hers, searching desperately for the words he could use to thank her. Nothing came, only jumbled bits of Russian and English that would surely not make any sense if he said it out loud, so instead he stood up, crossed the room, and engulfed her in a hug. She seemed taken aback, but she relaxed once he gave her a tight squeeze, a hug that was reminiscent of the last one they’d shared together two years ago.
“Thank you, Viv.”
March
Tutoring Andrei came natural to Vivian, a fond parallel to all of the times they had spent studying together freshman year in her dorm. What’s more, she found herself looking forward to their study sessions—she intentionally used that term rather than ‘study date’—though she told herself it was because they were finally seeing tangible progress on the capstone project, and it felt good.
She didn’t know why she offered, or what made her blurt it out as soon as the thought arrived in her brain. She only knew that she felt an overwhelming urge to help him, to not let him fail his dreams—even if a Bachelor’s degree ranked second on that list.
Sure, she liked the ego boost that came from being smart enough to tutor someone else, but the more they met, the more she learned that she liked Andrei best when it was just them two in a study room, free to be himself without the outside pressures of the world. Out there, he was expected to be something, as was she, but being alone with him reminded her of the Andrei she used to know and the late nights they’d spent talking about dreams and goals and aspirations in the comfort of her dorm room.
As the semester progressed, Thursdays became Vivian’s favorite day of the week. Having only two classes and a large break between them, she was typically able to get caught up on the majority of her work. Surely, it was the rewarding sense of accomplishment that made her love Thursdays and had nothing to do with the fact that Thursdays were also her weekly meetings with Andrei.
Yeah, sure, they often ended up staying at the library late into the night, chatting as they worked on the project or his latest Finance assignment. And, sure, sometimes she’d feel his eyes lingering on her when he bid her goodbye. But those were minor details, obviously. Vivian certainly didn’t look forward to hearing the sound of Andrei’s laugh and the way his dimple lit up his entire face when he smiled. And she definitely didn’t like the way he felt sitting beside her, the way his arm would sometimes brush against hers when she’d lean over to look at his textbook.
No, Andrei absolutely, positively, had nothing to do with why Thursdays had grown on her.
The weekend before spring break was always a big party weekend, and this year, Pi Kappa Lambda’s “Life’s a Beach” party was the hot event of the season. Despite not having enough time in his schedule to formally rush and commit to a fraternity, Andrei was close with many of the Pi Kap brothers, and it had become the unofficial athletic fraternity. Needless to say, Andrei had the date marked for weeks. Pregaming at the hockey house with Jimmy Buffett on blast, he was excited for a highly-anticipated evening of drinking and debauchery.
Andrei was talking with a teammate when a group of girls walking in caught his attention. He wasn’t surprised to see Vivian there—Pi Kap was one of the top fraternities on campus, and while he had never really bought into the whole ‘social tier’ thing, he understood the importance of appearances at these types of functions. She looked good, he thought, with her safari hat, Hawaiian shirt, and those cutoff shorts that displayed her perfect legs.
Vivian didn’t seem to notice him, engrossed in greeting her friends, but he continued to watch from across the room, admiring her commitment to the theme and, of course, the way her unbuttoned shirt gave him a view of the slope of her breasts. The more Malibu he consumed, the better she looked, unable to stop himself from glancing back over at her even as he made conversation with other people. He never approached her–partially because he was a little too inebriated to say anything that didn’t involve her tits–but, really, he was just content to watch from afar, observing the infectious impact she had on everyone around her.
Unfortunately, that also meant that he had to begrudgingly watch when she began to dance with a guy—some junior-frat-rat with a disgusting mustache on his upper lip. Andrei gritted his teeth as he watched his slimy hands make their way onto her hips, toying with the frayed end of her cutoff shorts in the way that he would have if she was still his girl.
Andrei didn’t really know the guy—Derek, he thought his name was—but he knew for a fact that he didn’t deserve her, wouldn’t treat her the way she deserved to be treated. Did he even realize who he was dancing with?
Had he been sober, Andrei probably would’ve written it off as two people dancing at a party, harmless, most likely meaningless. But he wasn’t sober, and Drunk Andrei was convinced that Dirty Derek would be popping the question anytime, and it drove him mad, his fingers itching to wipe that smug mustache off his face.
Fortunately, Drunk Andrei was also smart enough to know not to interfere–or maybe it was his Coach’s voice in his head warning him not to do anything stupid before the playoffs. Either way, Andrei kept to himself and his rapidly depleting mixed drink. He’d had his opportunity with Vivian, and had thrown it away just as easily; it was his burden to bear, not hers, left to muddle whatever his feelings were for her alone.
So, instead of wallowing in his own pity, he turned his attention to the pretty blonde girl who had been flirting with him all night. Like any other 20-something-year-old boy, it was all too easy for him to forget about his long lost lover in a great pair of tits. As he kissed her, his tongue wrestling with hers against the dirty wall of the frat house, the coconut rum impairing his system was just enough to allow him to imagine she was Vivian.
April
The sound of buzzing didn’t quite wake her, but the sound of her phone falling on the floor certainly did. Startled, it took Vivian a moment to recognize that her phone was, in fact, ringing. With a groan, she heaved herself out of her cocoon and leaned out of her bed to grab the phone, an unfamiliar number flashing across the top.
Vivian silenced it, wondering briefly why they were calling in the middle of the night, and figuring whoever it was would leave a voicemail if it was really important. Glancing at the time—1:17am—she sighed in frustration when she calculated she’d only been asleep for 2 hours before being interrupted by a call that wasn’t even important. Annoyed didn’t quite do it justice.
But then the ding on her phone alerted her to a voicemail. All she had to see was “Andrei Svechnikov” on the transcription before she was hurriedly pressing the phone to her ear.
Five minutes later, she was shoving on some boots and a coat before jumping into her car to drive to the campus security office.
The parking lot was almost empty, save for the handful of campus security vehicles. When she walked inside, Vivian’s eyes connected with a blonde woman behind the desk, glancing up at the sound of the door.
“Hi, are you Ms. Evans?”
She nodded. “Is Andrei okay?”
“He’s alright, just had a few too many,” she explained, causing a wave of relief to rush over Vivian. She’d process what that meant later. “One of our guys found him stumbling alone and picked him up. He’s over 21, so he won’t be charged with anything; we just wanted to make sure he got home safe.”
Vivian nodded in understanding, thankful for once that campus security was doing their job—she remembered the times she’d dreaded seeing their vehicles pulling up to parties when she was younger, having to slip out of a back window more times than she’d care to count. She sat as she waited for one of the security officers to retrieve Andrei from one of the back rooms, also thankful that they’d kept their hockey team’s star player hidden from public view while he was obliterated.
The tall Russian stumbled into view, his arm sloped over an officer’s shoulder as he helped walk him down the hallway. Vivian grimaced, noting Andrei’s bright red cheeks and disheveled hair. If she had to guess, she’d bet it was Jose Cuervo that did him in; tequila always made him lose his mind.
“Viv!” he shouted excitedly, a bright smile lighting up his face when he saw her waiting in the lobby. “You here! Did you get invite to party, too?”
She shared an amused glance with the officer before saying, “Yeah, Andrei. I got invited to the party, too. But it’s over now, so we have to go home, okay?”
Blowing a raspberry in disappointment, Andrei pouted, but agreed. “Ohhhh-kay Viv. If you say so.”
Vivian thanked the officer for helping her six-foot-something ex-boyfriend into the passenger seat of her car, set up with a spare towel just in case he couldn’t make it home without getting sick.
“Andrei,” she said to him once his seat belt was fastened firmly against his broad chest. “Do you have your keys?”
“You so pritt… ty,” he replied, slumping over against the window, the coolness a relief against his warm skin. Vivian did her best to ignore the compliment, writing it off as drunken nonsense.
“Andrei,” she repeated, more stern this time. “Are your keys in your pocket?”
“Why? You–” Hiccup. “–you comink over?”
Vivian took a deep inhale in, swallowing her frustration before she turned to look at him. “Andrei, you need to go home. Can you get into your house? Do you have your keys?”
Whether it was the firmness of her tone or the look in her eyes, something about her third attempt made Andrei swallow thickly, blinking slowly as his hands fumbled around his pockets. Her heart sank when his hands came out empty, a frustrated sigh leaving her mouth. Back to her place it was.
Andrei mumbled mostly nonsensical Russian as she drove back to her apartment, drifting in and out of silent moments as he’d doze off. The few moments of sleep he got seemed to help only slightly as she helped get him out of the car, legs nearly buckling under his weight as she helped get him inside.
It was only after she stepped into the living room that she realized she had a decision to make. Her bedroom was upstairs, the couch downstairs. Technically, her ensuite bathroom was much closer to her bed than the ½ bath on the main floor was to the couch, plus she knew she wouldn’t be able to hear him getting sick if he stayed downstairs.
So, begrudgingly, Vivian steered Andrei toward the stairs, thanking the powers above when he began to put one foot in front of the other to climb them. She barely had time to think about how he hadn’t been inside her bedroom since they broke up two years prior. Now with a different mattress and a different bedspread—she’d upgraded to a larger mattress once she moved into an off-campus apartment—the thought that Andrei hadn’t ever been in this bed briefly flitted across her mind before he was stumbling forward into it, falling face first into the pillow. It wasn’t exactly what she envisioned when she thought about Andrei in bed—not that she thought about that, either. Not that often, at least.
Based on the instant snoring, Vivian assumed he’d cashed out for the night, and entirely dead weight, he’d be impossible to move. So, she retrieved the small trash can in her bathroom and set it next to him, moving his head to the side in case he did get sick in the middle of the night. She tugged off his shoes and pulled an extra blanket over him since he’d fallen on top of the comforter.
Thankful that her housemates were all asleep—not wanting to deal with explaining why her ex-boyfriend was asleep in her bed—Vivian retrieved an extra glass of water, along with a few extra Tylenol from the cabinet to set on the nightstand beside him. She tugged off her own coat and shoes before crawling into bed, unfamiliar with the dip he created in the mattress.
“Viv?”
The sound of his slurred voice and thick accent startled her, surprised that he was still conscious.
“Hm?”
“Did you kiss him?”
“Kiss him? Kiss who?”
Andrei was silent for so long that Vivian thought he’d fallen back asleep. “D… Derek.”
“Derek?”
“From party... Beach party.”
The memory came flooding back, her vodka-infused night at Pi Kappa Lambda a few weeks back blurry but still recollectable. She didn’t know he’d seen her indulging in the warm touch of her dance partner, but what Andrei didn’t know was that though she was dancing with Derek, it was flashes of a tall Russian that filled her mind, imagining it was him running his hands along her sides. And when her fleeting sobriety returned to her in flashes, and she realized it wasn’t Andrei, she couldn’t bring herself to go home with him despite the throbbing need between her legs.
“No, I didn’t kiss him, Andrei.”
Andrei hummed. “Good.”
Despite her foggy memory, Vivian couldn’t ignore the pang she felt in her heart as the image of Andrei kissing the pretty blonde Delta Phi in the corner, his lips no doubt working their sinful magic against hers. How could Andrei be bothered by her dancing with someone when he’d been doing the same with another girl?
“But you kissed that girl.”
He hummed again, this time accompanied by a loose wave of his hand. “Yeah. But was finkink… was finking ‘boutchu.”
In the pause that followed, as she tried to process what Andrei had said, the end of his sentence was soon punctuated with a loud snore. Not that she would have even known what to say to begin with, confused, disappointed, and relieved all at once. As she listened to his uneven but deep breathing, she pondered his words in his head until she fell asleep, the warmth from his body shielding her from the cool air in the room.
The next morning, she awoke to the sound of Andrei groaning loudly. What she saw when she opened her eyes, though, was not what she expected. Somewhere in the middle of the night, he’d stripped off his sweatshirt and his shirt, his chest entirely bare save for the familiar silver cross that hung from his neck. Before she could stop herself, her eyes were trailing down the muscles of his pecs, down the line of his abdomen, admiring that he was in even better shape than he had been when they were together.
Fortunately, Andrei didn’t notice, instead busy rubbing his eyes and wincing at the movement. “Oh, fuck. Feel like got hit by truck.”
His accent and lack of pronouns were endearing, and she nodded toward the glass beside him. “There’s water and some medicine on the table. You should take it.”
With his eyes still closed, Andrei mumbled a thank you, groping blindly for the pills. Instead of grabbing them, though, he knocked the glass over, spilling water all over her nightstand and the floor. “Fuck. M’sorry.”
With a sigh, Vivian heaved herself out of bed, grumbling under her breath as she went to retrieve a towel. She refilled his glass with water from the faucet, thrusting the cup into his hands a little more forcefully than she intended.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was that of him gulping down half of the glass, quenching only a portion of the Hungover Drought in his mouth. Breathing heavily, he laid his head back and shut his eyes tightly.
“Did we… ?”
Vivian resisted the urge to laugh, instead raising her eyebrows in an amused way. “You could barely walk, let alone make any specific body parts function.”
He hummed, then, “What happened?”
“I don’t know. You had a lot to drink. I got a call from campus security at one in the morning to come pick you up.”
Andrei shut his eyes again; whether he was racking his brain for a memory, or willing away his hangover, she wasn’t sure. He let out a deep groan, the kind that she could practically feel the vibrations from.
“Come on,” she urged, nudging his shoulder gently. “Can you stand up? I’ll take you back to your apartment. By the way, you lost your keys.”
Andrei groaned loudly, fumbling in his pockets before he let out another. “Fuck, I lost my phone, too.”
“It’s over here, charging. It was almost dead last night,” Vivian explained, unplugging it and handing it to him. With one eye open, Andrei squinted at the screen to send a text to his roommates to see if someone could let him in.
They sat in silence for a moment, Andrei’s eyes closed tightly as he did his best to will away his hangover. Vivian listened to the sound of his breathing, doing her best not to glance at the way the muscles in his core rippled as he breathed.
“Viv,” he said softly, glancing at her as if afraid of how she’d answer. “No one’s answering.”
With a heavy sigh, Vivian rolled her eyes and threw her head back in frustration. “Of fucking course they’re not.”
“It’s not my fault!”
“You’re the one who lost your keys and got yourself in this situation,” she shot back, standing up.
“Where you going?”
“If you’re going to stay here, you might as well shower. Might help you feel better. Hopefully they’ll answer by the time you’re done so I can get on with my day.”
“If you’re going to be so cranky, why did you even come last night?” he asked.
“Because I got a call from campus security at one in the morning, Andrei. Scared the shit out of me. I thought you were dead or something, but instead you were just obliterated out of your mind. Great time to get belligerently drunk, by the way, two days before our presentation. You should be grateful they didn’t charge you with public indecency or something.”
“Oh, yeah, because I definitely got picked up on purpose–”
Vivian scoffed, rolling her eyes. She tossed the towel at him, purposefully covering up his bare chest so she didn’t have to keep looking at it.
“Why did you even have them call me? I’m not your–” she swallowed the word girlfriend, “– you have other friends. Teammates.”
It was Andrei’s turn to scoff, ignoring her question in favor of sitting up and pausing for a moment to let the lurching in his skull subside. She watched his long fingers massage his temples, though she knew it wasn’t helping by the way his brows furrowed on his forehead.
“I didn’t tell them to call you,” he finally said. “They called because you’re still my emergency contact.”
“I’m what?”
He shrugged. “My parents and brother obviously aren’t here. I just never changed it.”
Vivian didn’t know if she was touched, or annoyed, or sad—or maybe all of the above. At the end of the day, she had still dropped everything to make sure he was safe; would always come if he needed her to. No matter what she did, she couldn’t deny that she cared about him, deeply.
As he showered, she pondered what all of it meant. And when she dropped him off, making sure he was safely inside his house before driving off with a wave, it hit her so hard she had to pull over on the side of the road.
She wasn’t sure if it was a still, or an again, the details not mattering much. All she knew is that she was in love with Andrei Svechnikov.
While everyone else was preparing for the end of the semester and exam season, Andrei’s season was approaching its peak as BU prepared for the Frozen Four. As anticipated, his name had been announced as one of the three finalists for the Hobey Baker, adding an additional layer of pressure to his game. Although he already had been drafted and had his future in front of him, he couldn’t deny that it’d be extremely flattering to win the award—but he’d trade it without a second thought if it meant he could raise the championship trophy with his teammates.
The increased training meant less time to study and complete his homework, which also meant less time with Viv—though, as their presentation day grew closer, their communication amped up naturally. Andrei found that he was willing to put off the rest of his work in favor of focusing on the project, in part due to it being such a large portion of his grade, but largely because he couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing Vivian.
Before he knew it, presentation day had arrived. Andrei made Vivian promise that she’d get a good night’s sleep—and she claimed she did, though Andrei noticed that she’d made changes to the slideshow at 12:06am, no doubt combing through every inch one last time.
They were driving together to CyberComm’s headquarters, a large high-rise in downtown Boston. Andrei met at Vivian’s apartment, waiting patiently while she checked her bag to ensure the flash drive with the extra copy of the presentation was tucked safely in the pocket. As he waited, he smiled when he noticed the vase of flowers sitting on the kitchen table; a ‘thank you’ he’d sent after the campus security fiasco. He also couldn’t help but notice that although Vivian was dressed professionally, he was pleased that her attire revealed the slightest sliver of skin on her chest, instantly reminding him of the cleavage he’d caught a glimpse of at the Pi Kap party.
Vivian drove to the office, allowing Andrei to continue casting glances at her as she navigated traffic. His eyes slid over the shape of her lips, the dip of her nose, the way her dark hair spilled over her shoulders in luxurious curls—the ones that, in his opinion, always made her look like a model. She was beautiful.
Not that his opinion on the way she looked had ever wavered, even after they broke up. He had always thought she was pretty, and had since the first time he saw her during freshman orientation—it was half the reason he’d asked her to join his volleyball team. But something about the way the sun lit up her skin, casting a glow over her made his heart beat just a little bit faster. She was confident in herself, but not cocky; essentially, everything he aspired to be as an athlete. Even two years removed from their relationship, Vivian was still inspiring him to be a better person.
Once they arrived at the office, Vivian checked in at the front desk. While they were waiting for Sherry, the Executive Assistant to the CEO, to retrieve them in the lobby, Andrei’s nerves began to kick in. They sat in silence, Andrei running through his script in his head until the warmth of Vivian’s palm on his leg brought him back to reality.
She offered a smile that reassured him, only just then realizing his leg had been bouncing as he waited in his nerves. His heart raced, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the sight of a woman walking toward them, or from the touch of Vivian’s hand on his thigh. Either way, he didn’t have time to think about it, for the woman approaching them introduced herself as Sherry, offering to show them upstairs.
Sherry led them to a conference room with a long oak table and floor-to-ceiling glass walls, like an office straight out of Succession. Andrei admired as he watched Vivian channel her sorority recruitment charm as they were introduced to the CEO, VP of Sales, VP of Marketing, and VP of Operations. Vivian, he knew, was doing her best to ignore their decorated titles and the weight riding on making a positive impression; if she was as nervous as he was, she didn’t show it. Professor Janes sat on the other side of the table, offering an encouraging smile as Andrei set up their presentation and Vivian handed out the prepared booklets to each of the attendees.
Vivian’s voice wavered slightly as they started, but by the third slide, she was her normal, charismatic self, her practiced speech coming off as confident and rehearsed but not memorized. Andrei stumbled once or twice, a pink blush coating his cheeks as he smiled through it, glancing each time at Vivian for silent encouragement.
Thirty minutes later, the presentation was done, as were the onslaught of questions from each of the panelists. The VP of Operations, Janet, was the first to stand up to shake both of their hands.
“Thank you, Miss Adams and Mr. Svechnikov. I have to say that this has been one of the best, most professional presentations we’ve seen yet. Very well done.”
Andrei could barely contain his grin, thanking her and Professor Janes as Vivian tucked her laptop in her bag. Andrei led the way out the door with one final “thank you.” Once they were in the hallway and far enough from the door, he was spinning on his heel to lift Vivian up into his arms.
“We did it!” he exclaimed, spinning her around. “We fucking did it!”
“Andrei! Keep your voice down!” she scolded, though it was punctuated with a giggle that nearly punched Andrei in the gut.
“God, you were amazing,” he said, quieter this time as he set her down. “When they asked that last question about the inventory tracking, I completely froze. You are fucking incredible.”
“I know it inside and out,” she said, brushing off the compliment. “You did great, too, Andrei. I’m proud of us.”
“One of the best they’ve ever seen,” he mused, nudging her shoulder. “Put that on your resume, Viv.”
“Too bad you can’t use that skill in the NHL,” she joked.
—
Andrei barely had time to bask in the success of the presentation before he was on a plane to St. Paul for the college hockey championship tournament. Being a hockey school, his professors were more than understanding with their deadlines, many of them offering well wishes before he left for the short but significant tournament.
As soon as he arrived, he was flooded with interviews in advance of the Hobey Baker announcement that was to take place before the game. Either way, it—both the media and the ceremony—was all a big distraction to Andrei; he had his sights set on a different trophy that was far more important than any individual award he could win. But, remembering his media training, he put a smile on his face and channeled his inner Vivian Adams.
When they called his name announcing him the winner of the award, Andrei was bashful and gracious, only allowing a smile once he was back in the locker room with his teammates who were waiting to congratulate him after the ceremony. A minor celebration—just the way he wanted it—before they were back in the zone, preparing for the semifinal game against Notre Dame. Truthfully, he was glad the award was done and over with, though he knew the questions would continue to come even once he made it to the NHL.
After a hard-fought game—and a two point game for the Hobey Baker winner—the Terriers emerged victorious. Coach granted them the night to celebrate, though Andrei was very conscious of his alcohol intake; if all went according to plan, he’d be able to really celebrate in two days’ time, once he had the trophy in hand.
The night before the championship, Andrei tossed and turned, eventually dozing off into a dreamless sleep. He awoke the next morning to a text from Vivian, feeling a tug at his heart when he saw the familiar emojis next to her name; something she’d added herself at some point during freshman year and he’d never bothered to change them.
[Viv 😍🥰❤️🔥🎀🌼:] Congratulations, Mr. Hobey Baker! Good luck today! Bring home that trophy to Terrier Nation! 🐶
It was the only time Andrei allowed himself to be smug; something about Vivian being proud of him awoke the unfamiliar emotions in him. If Andrei thought hard enough, he’d have put two and two together then, but when he looked back on that day in later years, he’d blame it on the pressure of the game that made him blind to his feelings.
Despite his qualms and reluctance for the attention, it was only fitting for it to be Andrei who scored in OT, surely a goal that would be on his highlight goal for years to come.
The horn sounded as confetti burst from the ceiling, raining a sea of scarlet and white over the arena. Andrei’s celebration with his team was cut short when the television crew encouraged them to line up for the presentation of the championship trophy. He was jittering, full of adrenaline; the words of the announcer barely registering with him.
When he lifted the trophy over his head, grinning from ear to ear, it wasn’t his family he looked for in the stands, but Vivian. She was the first person he sought out when he got back to campus, Pi Kapp quickly throwing together a celebratory championship bash despite being the week before exams. He didn’t expect her to be there, and she wasn’t, though that didn’t stop him from sending her one—or four—too many drunk texts inviting her out.
It wasn’t until several days later, as he was lying in bed and reading through the ‘good luck’ text she’d sent him before his Finance exam, that the weight of his feelings for her came crashing down on him. He knew he wasn’t Vivian smart, but he didn’t think he was that dumb either, to be completely oblivious to the way he felt about her.
And of course, it was just his luck that his grand revelation came to him the night before graduation day.
The buzz of Vivian’s alarm went off at 7am, but she was already lying awake, staring at the ceiling. She’d woken up around 5:30, or thereabouts, unable to sleep for the swirl of emotions building inside of her.
It was graduation day, which brought a bittersweet sense of pride. She was excited to celebrate, to reminisce on all of her and her friends’ accomplishments over the last four years, but she was also anticipating the looming goodbye to the city that had become her home—and everyone in it.
Of course, there was one person in particular that she was dreading saying goodbye to. Now that she had come to terms with her feelings for Andrei, she’d been mulling over what to do about them—tell him, and risk her heart breaking, or keep it to herself, and wonder ‘what if’ for the rest of her life.
Surely, she assumed, Andrei was already thinking ahead to his future, ready for the bright lights of PNC Arena, the fame and glory of the NHL, and beautiful girls lined up down the street for the chance to talk with him. He’d be signing his first contract soon, worth more money in one season than she’d make in five years. There was no way he would even be thinking about getting back together with his ex-girlfriend from his freshman year of college—not while he had the world at his feet.
Plus, there was the tiny detail that Vivian still hadn’t accepted a job offer, though she had received two to date; while one was in New York City, a fairly reasonable distance from Raleigh, the other was in San Francisco, on the other side of the country. Still, Vivian couldn’t shake the feeling that she should tell him, and she knew she’d never forgive herself if she kept it in and found out years later that he’d wanted the same.
Vivian had just finished applying her makeup when she heard a knock on the front door. Judging by the sound of it, her housemate was in the shower, and she knew the other two weren’t home, so she tightened the tie on her robe and ran downstairs to answer it.
As she opened the door, Vivian came face to face with Andrei—or at least, face to chest. He was panting on the front porch, half dressed with his tie undone as he stood in front of her.
“Andrei, what are you doing here? I’m trying to get ready—”
“I—you look beautiful,” he said, breathless.
“Thank you,” she said, then repeated, “What are you doing?”
“I need to talk to you.” There was a fire in his eyes that told her it was important, so she stepped aside and let him in.
Before she could say anything, he was climbing the steps up to her room, two at a time, and she jogged behind him, confused.
“What is going on? You’re scaring me, Andrei.”
“I—I had to see you.”
She raised her eyebrows, silently asking for him to continue. He took a moment to catch his breath, then said, “I couldn’t sleep last night. I can’t stop thinking about you. I almost called you like, eight different times. And then it hit me.”
Vivian held her breath, anticipating what might be coming next, though nothing could really prepare her for the words that came out of his mouth.
“Ya lyublyu tebya,” he said.
Vivian stared at him, the foreign words hanging between them in the silence. Outside of the occasional curse word or when he was really drunk, she’d hardly ever heard him speak Russian, as he put much of his energy into learning ‘good and proper’ English once he had committed to finishing his degree at BU. “I… I don’t know what that means.”
Andrei smiled, his eyes warm as he looked at her. “I think you do.”
And she did. Vivian Adams wasn’t the smartest girl in her class for nothing. But in that moment, she wasn’t Vivian Adams, President of Alpha Zeta, Summa Cum Laude. She was just Viv. And fuck, if Viv didn’t love him too.
“Andrei…”
“God, I fucking love you,” he said, like he was unable to stop himself now that he’d said it once. “I don’t think I ever stopped. It just got hidden because you weren’t around. And then we got paired together, and I just—”
His monologue was cut off when Vivian lunged forward to press her lips against his. Suddenly, he didn’t give a single shit about what else had left to say, instead focused on kissing her back as he threaded his hands through her hair. He never wanted to stop kissing her, not now that he finally felt her perfect lips again.
For the moment, she was content to just kiss him, familiarizing herself with his mouth after being separated for so long. But when his tongue traced along the seam of her lips, she was all too eager to let him deepen the kiss, welcoming him into her mouth. Andrei’s hand gripped her jaw, keeping her pressed against him while his other hand wandered to her chest, massaging her breast over the soft fabric of her robe—the way he’d wanted to since he saw the glimpse of her cleavage at the party.
Soon enough, Vivian found herself lying on her back, Andrei’s large frame looming over her as he kissed his way down her jaw. Her hands roamed his broad, muscular back, feeling the divots of his shoulders as he held himself over her. The feeling of his mouth on the sensitive skin of her neck made her shiver, his tongue tracing the spot that always drove her crazy. Judging by the moan that slipped from her mouth, it was safe to say that spot was still a weakness.
“Andrei,” she mumbled, brain fuzzy as she searched for the words to say. “We can’t—have to—”
“I know, I know. Just give me a minute,” he pleaded against her neck, mouth making its way to her chest. “Please.”
‘A minute’ turned into ten, leaving her completely naked with his head buried between her thighs. A feral groan left his mouth when his tongue first lapped against her, instantly remembering the sweetness of the way she tasted. He’d never been a bad lover, but clearly the years apart had earned him a lot of practice, for his tongue flicking her clit sent her flying over the edge with ease. Smirking to himself, pleased with his ability, Andrei placed gentle kisses against the inside of her thighs as she came down from her high.
“Viv,” her housemate called from downstairs, bursting her bubble sooner than she might have liked, “your parents are here.”
It only took a moment for Vivian to come out of her orgasmic haze, eyes widening as she realized the state she was in. Her eyes shot to Andrei’s, who was frozen with his lips on her inner thigh.
“Fuck,” she whispered, quickly standing up and gesturing for Andrei to straighten himself up. Then, she shouted down the stairs, “Hi, mom and dad. I’ll be down in a second—just finishing up!”
She was quick to throw on the dress she had set out, hanging completely forgotten once Andrei arrived. Her hair was only partially done, but she managed to salvage it by throwing a few loose curls in; fortunately, her head would be covered by her cap for most of the photos.
It was only when she glanced at Andrei, wiping off the remnants of her orgasm in the sink before she realized how this would look. Obviously, this new stage of their relationship—where did this leave them?—was more than fresh; she wasn’t even sure if her parents would remember that she told them they’d been paired together for the capstone project.
“I love you, too, you know,” she said, stepping forward to straighten his tie. He smiled, stealing another precious moment to press another kiss against her lips. “But now’s the real test—act normal with my parents down there.”
“And pretend I didn’t just have my head between their daughter’s legs?” he grinned. “Oh, baby, you know I’m a parent charmer.”
As expected, her parents’ reactions to seeing Vivian walk down the stairs flanked by Andrei was all but priceless. Her father visibly bristled, while her mother looked surprised but pleased—she’d always been a fan of Andrei.
Vivian hugged them both, apologizing for the wait and hoping they didn’t think too hard about Andrei descending from her bedroom at 8:30 in the morning. “Mom and dad, you remember Andrei.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Adams, it’s so good to see you again,” he greeted quickly, shaking her dad’s hand firmly and accepting a confused but gracious hug from her mom. “Viv and I had to submit a final analysis for our project—there was a glitch in the system.”
A weak lie, but Mrs. Adams was so pleased to see Andrei that she didn’t question it.
“Andrei, will you be heading to the convocation center with us?”
“I’ve got to meet my family, but I’m sure my mother would love to meet you,” Andrei replied with a smile. “We’ll find you after the ceremony?”
Vivian nodded, sending Andrei off with a smile and a “see you soon,” followed shortly by an eyebrow raise from her mother once the door was closed.
The ceremony itself was dull, but the day was a whirlwind nonetheless: many photos with friends and family (including a long-awaited introduction between the Svechnikovs and the Adamses), a boozy brunch with Alpha Zeta seniors and families, followed by a reminiscent stroll through campus, and finally a nice dinner with her family. Before Vivian knew it, it was 11pm and she was at the bar with her friends, taking celebratory shots that burned her throat. Vivian was happy, but something was missing.
And then that something came walking in, a smile on his face when he easily located her amongst the crowd. The dimple she’d always loved stood out, warmth flooding her body as he weaved his way through the throng of people toward her.
“Hi,” she said, as if their earlier confessions left undiscussed made her suddenly shy around him.
“Hi,” he said back, mocking her a little bit with a playful smile.
There was an elephant in the room—two elephants, really—crammed into the dimly lit room with 80’s music blaring over the speakers, but a packed bar full of fresh college graduates was hardly the place to address them.
“You want to get out of here?” he asked quietly, jerking his head toward the door.
Vivian didn’t have the words to describe just how badly she wanted that, instead nodding with a smile. He matched hers, following her out and completing an Irish Goodbye without a second thought.
The Uber ride back to her apartment was quiet save for the song playing softly on the radio, Vivian’s thigh pressed against Andrei’s in the backseat. His hand found hers silently, lacing their fingers in a gesture that went far beyond comfort in a dark car.
I saw you last night and got that old feeling
When you came in sight, I got that old feeling
The moment that you danced by, I felt a thrill
And when you caught my eye, my heart stood still
Once again I seemed to feel that old yearning
Then I knew the spark of love was still burning
There'll be no new romance for me, it's foolish to start
For that old, that old feeling is still in my heart
It felt like fate, and maybe it was, Frank Sinatra’s soothing voice warbling through the speakers about a love rekindled. Andrei hummed the same to her, softly, in the darkness of her bedroom as he took his time undressing her, unveiling each inch of her skin like it was brand new to him.
Strong arms held her close as he laid her back against the bed, settling his body over hers before kissing her deeply. His tongue sought out her own, his hands running over her exposed skin as if he needed to re-commit it to memory. Their position was familiar, the same one they were in just over 12 hours prior, but the weight between them was much, much different.
This time, Vivian’s hands found Andrei’s slacks, palming the bulge she met with fervor and savoring the groan that left his throat. Encouraged and eager to produce that sound again, she dipped her hand beneath his waistband and wrapped her fingers around him, stroking him lightly.
“Viv,” he grunted, nose trailing along her jawline as he held himself up—barely. “Need—need to be in you.”
She agreed wholeheartedly, helping Andrei shuck his pants down his legs, joining her clothes on the floor. It was their first time being completely bare together in years, and though she shouldn’t have been surprised, Vivian was in awe of him, a sculpted Russian god in her bed.
Andrei’s hands ran down her thighs, hoisting each of them over his hips as he settled between her legs. To slow down the moment, he pressed his forehead against hers, eyes gazing into her own before he kissed her deeply. Vivian could feel him, throbbing, bumping against the inside of her thighs, brushing against her core where she, too, was desperate to have him.
“Andrei,” she murmured softly against his lips, encouragement spoken in just a sigh of his name.
She didn’t want him to stop touching her, whining reluctantly when he sacrificed a few moments to part his hands from her skin in favor of guiding his length toward her. Vivian had no breath left in her lungs when he finally pushed in, slowly, his considerable girth something she was no longer used to accommodating. Andrei stilled, telling himself it was so she could adjust; in reality, he needed the time just as much, fearful of busting his load far, far too early.
No, Andrei wanted to savor this, to enjoy it. Though he’d had many partners since Vivian, none of them felt quite the way she did, squeezed him quite the way her perfect cunt did, made his balls tighten when she moaned out his name the way she did—but he hadn’t realized how much he missed her until that moment. Her skin against his lit him on fire from the inside out, and he was sure it was because of more than her body that he wanted to taste every inch of.
Andrei stretched her entirely, the feeling so incredibly delicious that all thought was absent from Vivian’s brain. All she could do was hold onto him, her hands caressing the skin of his arms, his shoulders, his back, her legs wrapped tightly around him as his hips dipped against hers. He was steady in his rhythm, patient, like he was following a beat only he could hear.
When his lips found hers again, he drank in the moans that she offered, tugging her up toward him until they were seated and she was straddling him, unable to get close enough. His hands on her hips encouraged her to move, to drive herself toward the high she desperately sought, that he could feel in the flutter of her heat around him. With her head buried in the crook of Andrei’s thick neck, Vivian cried out as she came, her vision going fuzzy as the climax hit her like a freight train.
Andrei’s arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her closely as he, too, met his end, spilling into her waiting core with a grunt. His body was tingling, as was Vivian’s, but he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her again, doing his best to pour the love that had been forgotten for the last two years back into her.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, moments later when he was lying beside her, admiring the way her body looked wrapped in the sheet, pressed against his frame. The feeling of her, snug in his arms, made everything feel right in the world.
Vivian smiled, shy, burying her face against his chest in embarrassment. He nudged her with his shoulder, adding for emphasis, “You are.”
“Drei…”
The old nickname fell from her lips without her even realizing, familiar and warm in so many ways. Andrei smiled at it, liking the way it felt.
Silence fell between them, comfortable as they basked in the glorious haze. Then, Vivian’s voice spoke quietly in the darkness of her room. “I don’t want this to end.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re both leaving BU soon,” Vivian said, not ready to burst their bubble yet, but the words just kept coming out. “And I don’t know where I’m going yet, but I have offers in San Francisco and New York, and you’re going to be this hot shot NHL star, and I’m sure your DM’s are already full of pretty girls and–”
“Viv,” he interrupted her softly. “I don’t care about that. I want to be with you.”
“But… I applied to jobs all over the place,” she fretted, hating herself for letting her anxiety ruin their perfect, blissful moment.
Andrei paused, nudging her jaw with a finger to encourage her to meet his eyes. “I lost you once; I’m not going to do it again. I want this, and if you do too, then we’ll make it work. Okay?”
“You mean that?”
“Eto vsegda byl ty, Viv. The girl in my story has always been you.”
–
The next morning, the light streaming through the windows woke Vivian up, stretching her deliciously sore muscles before she registered the large, warm body beside her. She took a moment to watch Andrei sleep, his chest gently rising and falling with his breath, features so relaxed and peaceful.
When she rolled over to glance at her phone, she saw the notification for an unread email. The sound of her gasp woke Andrei up, startled at the sound.
“What? Are you oka– what happened?” he spluttered, taking in her wide eyes.
Instead of speaking, Vivian simply turned her phone toward him to show him what had tears brimming in her eyes: An offer letter for a Financial Analyst position with CyberComm.
“That’s great, Viv,” he smiled. “Congratulations.”
“Andrei,” Vivian said, sensing that he didn’t quite put it together. “CyberComm has an office in Charlotte.”
“Oh.”
“Charlotte is in North Carolina.”
“Oh.”
Her eyebrows raised, watching the realization dawn on Andrei’s face as he processed. “You’re moving to North Carolina?”
“We’re moving to North Carolina.”
Vivian didn’t know if she should call it fate, chance, coincidence, but five months later when she watched Andrei debut in his first ever NHL game, a Svechnikov jersey proud on her shoulders, she decided it was best to call it the mystery of love.
#andrei svechnikov fic#andrei svechnikov imagine#andrei svechnikov x reader#hockey fic#nhl imagine#andrei svechnikov x y/n#andrei svechnikov fanfiction#andrei svechnikov fanfic#andrei svechnikov blurb#andrei svechnikov smut#nhl fic#a. svechnikov#hockey imagine#nhl fanfic#hockey romance
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Not Alive, Nor Dead
[PREV PART] [AO3]
I'll make a separate post for all of my thoughts (because I have a lot), but I'd like to thank all of you. This has been such an amazing experience, being able to tell a story from start to end. This has been a lot of firsts for me, first fic, first serious writing, first time I reach the end of any long form story I made.
Each and every one of you reading, liking, reblogging and commenting made this ride that more enjoyable.
Now, it's time we finish it, with the longest chapter yet.
Its name on AO3 will be "Together."
All that could be heard in the small room were crackling flames. For a while, they just stared at each other.
“Revenants of light, huh…” Johnny whispers, fingers gently caressing Simon’s hand. He scoffs in disbelief, “I can’t believe we actually did it…”
Simon sinks into the flames hugging his skin, “did what?”
“Broke that prophecy. Lived. Fuckin’ created a new Reaper.” Johnny’s eyes shine, his voice full of reverence, “you think this was… a new deal?”
Heat strikes down, deep in his chest. “It would make sense… new Reaper, new powers…” Simon trails off.
“New death.” Johnny grins lopsidedly, “looks like yer stuck with me ‘till the end, LT.”
“Till death do us apart, Johnny?”
His Sergeant laughs brightly, Simon grinning like an idiot under the mask. Johnny takes his other hand in his, donning a more serious expression.
“Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone.” he recites slowly, eyes not moving from his. Simon inhales sharply.
“I give ye my Body, that we Two might be One.” his heart beats like a war drum, strong and heavy.
“Johnny…” he doesn’t recognize the lines, but the meaning expands beyond cultures.
“I give ye my Spirit,” he lifts a hand to cup Simon’s cheek, “’til our Life shall be Done.”
Simon leans in, resting his forehead on Johnny’s, chuckling in incredulity, “you’re fuckin’ mental, Sergeant.”
The Scot hums, nudging his head, “thought ye knew that already, mo chridhe.”
Fuckin’ hell, his heart won’t stop beating so loudly. Simon knows Johnny was half joking but…
But still his heart strives to etch the words into his rib cage. A vow seared into their very flesh, marked by forces beyond their comprehension.
An oath, so powerful it joins not only their lives, but the lives of otherworldly horrors, being who do not care for such things as human connection.
And yet, it is that very thing that changed the course of destiny, in a way not even Reapers could predict.
Simon leans close, to the man he calls home, a hearth to never be extinguished.
And he feels safe. He feels… complete.
When they finally leave the room, the air outside is considerably colder. The safe house is quiet, in a way it can’t be, for the amount of soldiers it contained before Johnny dragged Ghost away.
He catches the attention of a passing Vaquero, and the man tells him most have left for the base, as it was liberated once Graves died. He also informs them their teammates are waiting outside by the vehicles.
Price and Garrick smile at them knowingly when they reach the armored truck.
“Bloody hell, finally! What took you two so long??” Gaz kicks off the side of the truck to scowl at them.
Ghost squints, face heating up, “none of yours, Sergeant.”
Gaz opens his mouth, but Price pats his back, “we can argue in the damn car. I need a fuckin’ shower.”
The Sergeant instantly forgets his previous grievances, and floats away to the passenger sit, “oh fuck yeah! I’m drooling just thinking about the bunks. You think Rudy would make us tea again if we ask really nicely?”
Soap swings the door open while shaking his head, muttering, “feckin’ Brits and their shite tea…”
Ghost slides besides him and cuffs him over the warhawk, “you better respect Parra’s tea in this car, Sergeant.”
Johnny rolls his eyes, unable to stop the smirk spreading on his lips, “what are ye gonna do? Report me to the king?”
“You little…” Ghost starts wrestling his Sergeant in the back sits, Price sighing deeply and turning the ignition.
When Soap somehow manages to kick the Captain’s headrest, jostling his hat dangerously, Price turns to glare at the two of them.
“You stop that, or I’m leaving you on the side of the road.”
They both immediately freeze, “sorry Captain.” Soap mumbles.
The truck is left parked between the others already on base, and the taskforce makes its way to the barracks.
Rudy finds them after a shower, smiling, “hermanos. Feeling better?”
Garrick is still drying his hair with a towel, “feel fuckin’ human, brother.”
Alejandro rounds the corner, laughing, “Rudy got something even better than a shower.”
“What’s that?” Soap asks. Price’s eyes fill with wonder, and Ghost already knows the answer.
Alejandro swings an arm around the Sergeant Major, “how does ‘Parra’s infamous tea’ sound like?”
Gaz cheers, floating up a few inches, while Soap grumbles disappointingly, “sounds like bloody heaven, Rodolfo!” Garrick reaches to pull the Vaquero into a hug, “thank you!!!”
Rudy pats the Sergeant, laughing, “it’s nothing, hermano. A little thanks for all of you, for helping us with Graves.” he looks over at Ghost, the two sharing a nod of mutual understanding.
Soap pouts, “feckin’ tea though…?”
Alejandro smirks confidently, “we also got some… shortbread, you call it?”
Now that puts a spark in Johnny’s eyes, “ye all are saints, Alejandro.”
The Colonel laughs loudly.
They meet Commander Karim and Keller on their way out, duffle bags slung over their shoulders.
Farah smiles warmly at the Captain, “ah, Price. Glad I could find you before we leave.”
“You’re already going back to Urzikstan?”
The American sighs, “yep. The Vaqueros volunteered to search for any of our people, but currently we need to go back to protecting whoever we still have.”
“Graves may be dead, but this is far from over.” Farah looks over the serene hills surrounding the base, “as much as I want to get Shepherd, I cannot let myself be blinded by revenge.”
Ghost understands the sentiment. Revenge is a fuel, what you put it into could make or break your reality. “When we find him, we’ll make sure you’re there to take it.”
Farah nods, perceptive eyes landing on his, “I appreciate it, Lieutenant.” she turns to the rest, “thank you for everything. God willing, we will meet on better times.”
Price wraps a hand around her shoulder, making Ghost realize just how small the Commander is compared to him, “stay safe, Farah.” he winks at Alex, “make sure she takes breaks from time to time, will you?”
Keller laughs, “you know not even I can do that. Cya around, Cap.”
As the two walk away, Garrick mumbles, “think they’ll be alright without Graves supporting them?”
Price sighs wearily, eyes somber as they track Farah and Alex’s form, “they’ll have to be.”
They say their goodbyes to the Vaqueros, with a hopeful note to work together in the future, and get ready to board a plane to England. After a few hours, where the team took time to fix their undoubtably horrid stench and growling stomachs, and got to sleep (Soap dragged him to a sofa to nap, and Ghost will forever deny it was the best sleep of his life), Laswell called.
Ghost initially prayed they’re not being sent to another mission, in a way he never did. To his credit, the last few months were absurd.
She didn’t contact them for work, instead inviting them to stop by for a drink before they all leave for the UK. The promise of a good drink had them instantly agree.
The flight is spent mostly sleeping, again, as they were all incredibly tired, bone deep fatigue, emotionally and physically.
Garrick made sure to make his annoyingly aching shoulder everyone’s problem, complaining he couldn’t find a good position to rest in, until the Captain showed mercy and let him float around the cabin, leg held fast by Price.
Kate greets them warmly in a little bar hidden within Chicago’s winding alleys. Their drinks have been ordered beforehand, and everyone makes their gratitude known by taking a sip and melting into the bar sits.
Laswell smiles knowingly, letting them relax before starting, “this has been quite a ride for you boys, huh?”
Price sighs, “you can say it again.”
The CIA agent shakes her head morosely, “they got past us.”
“Well, they had a head start.” the Captain lifts his drink, “to cutting heads off snakes.”
Laswell clinks her cup with his. Ghost joins their conversation while they take the toast, “any sign of Shepherd?”
The woman puts the drink back on the counter, “totally off the grid.”
Gaz looks down at his whisky, frowning in conviction, “we’ll find him.”
“No,” Laswell answers, Garrick locking eyes with her, “we’ve got bigger fish.” she glances at Soap, “I did some digging on the Russian experiments.”
“That’s a dirty job if I’ve heard one”, Price mutters under his breath.
“Ultra-nationalists are after the fabled ‘revenant-killer’, John.” Price shakes his head minutely at the words.
“Kate,” he says lowly, “this is over.” almost begging her to let his boys rest.
“No. It’s not.” she ignores his pleas, as do all Reapers above and below. “They’re working with someone new.”
She pulls out a picture and shows it to Price, his expression instantly morphing into shock, and then cold rage.
Ghost tries to ask the Captain what he’s seeing, but he doesn’t need to.
Price points at the photo, “...he’s not new.” and passes it to Gaz.
Garrick’s brows furrow at it, glancing at the Captain questioningly before passing it over to Johnny.
Soap takes one look at the image, his smile lines deepening as his fingers singe the edges of the photo.
He slides it to Ghost, hand lingering, eyes full of uncertainty.
Ghost flips the picture, and his heart hardens.
“Who is he?” Laswell asks Price.
The Captain leans in to almost whisper, “Makarov.”
Laswell tilts her head, and Price continues to talk in their minds, “the Kastovian deserter, Konchar? He didn’t leave the military for no reason.”
Flames crackle threateningly under the bar, Ghost sliding a hand over white fire.
“He worked for Makarov?” Soap growls.
Price nods, “your Reaping took his work years back, but if what Laswell says is true…”
“He’s back.” Ghost finishes.
Johnny’s hand squeezes his, and they make eye contact.
It’s never really over, is it? Some say they’ll rest when they’re dead. Their harsh reality is that they’re not even granted that.
Blue eyes reflecting flames, as well as one floating man with a warm smile, and a reassuring voice in his mind, promise him that while yes, they may never rest, it does not mean they’ll fight alone.
Together, until death, as it brought them to each other, takes them away.
Soap is furious. They leave the bar not soon after, his Sergeant walking away as they say their farewells to Laswell.
On the flight back, he’s all uncontrollable energy, waiting for ignition to blow up.
Ghost, after 20 minutes of watching Johnny bounce his leg enough to wear a hole through the damn floor, places a hand to stop his movements.
“Talk to me, Johnny.”
Soap’s eyes stay full of rage for only a moment, before softening, “I’m thinking… maybe it wasn’t coincidence that me and Konchar were in Verdansk at the same time.”
Ghost hums for him to continue, drawing nonsense patterns on his thigh.
“What if I was an experiment, Simon?” Johnny looks away, his eyes fogging with memories, “what if Makarov knew Konchar had to kill me to live, and wanted to see if I could. If I was destined to be a revenant killer?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Ghost grounds. Johnny looks unconvinced, so he continues, “whatever you were destined to be… you’re not it anymore. We’re both changed men.”
Johnny stares at him with more emotions than Simon can contain, reverence and trust and… something he can’t name.
“You… how could I tell you how much I adore you?”
Simon’s heart, gut and head, all line in decision for once in his life.
Actions speak louder than words, he remembers. And so, he rolls up the mask up above his brows, and leans in.
Gently taking hold of Soap’s nape, he directs his head to his face, pressing a touch of lips to his temple.
Simon whispers in his ear, “I already know. I look at you, and I can’t explain what it does to me. What you do to me, love.”
Johnny closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. He looks almost conflicted, but the creases smooth over when Simon brushes lips over them.
“You mean everything.”
Price ordered him to his office the moment Ghost stepped foot on British soil. He glanced at Johnny, who was carrying his and Gaz’s bags. His Sergeant promised with a lopsided grin he’ll find him later, a sort of scheming glint in his eyes.
Ghost reaches the Captain’s office in record time, hoping to finish whatever this is as fast as possible.
Price, however, didn’t get the damn memo, and takes his sweet time settling into his chair. “How are you doing, Simon?”
Ghost surpassed the urge to roll his eyes, “good.” he gets the mental image of begging on his knees for Price to get to the point, and the Captain laughs.
“Alright, alright. I’ll spare you the suffering, Lieutenant.” Price’s smile slowly fades, “what happened with your Reaper, son?”
Right. He and Johnny may have forgotten to mention the new developments in the ‘Eldritch horrors beyond this world’ department.
“Our Reapers merged. They called themselves ‘Reaper of Luminary’.” Ghost huffs, “they told me and Johnny… we’re linked. We’ll live and die together.”
Price nods. He doesn’t seem too surprised, and Ghost wonders how much he already knew from his passing thoughts.
“I don’t know how long we would be able to keep it quiet…” he strokes his moustache, “this gets out, you two will have a target on your backs.”
Ghost straightens, hands behind his back at rest, “we’ll handle it, if it comes to that, sir.”
The Captain sighs, “I admire your confidence, Lieutenant, but I don’t think you understand the scale of the issue. You two are the first revenants in modern history to affect the Reapers the way they affect humans. We believed our connection was a one way street - that humans are simply too weak to change Reapers.” his stare is severe, “you however? You’re powerful enough to not only go against them, but physically mold them. What Makarov is after is nothing compared to the force you hold.”
Ghost closes his eyes. Price is right, of course. But…
He has faith. Hope.
Price’s moustache twitches, “...I understand.” he raises from the chair, walking around to place a hand on Ghost’s shoulder.
“I’m happy for you, son. You and Soap make a good team.” the Captain’s eyes crease with mirth, “I heard your conversation on the plane-”
“Fuckin’ hell Price, that was bloody private!” Ghost scoffs, embarrassment coursing through him.
“I stopped listening after the first ‘love’-”
Ghost drags a hand over his eyes, “just get on with it”
“As I’ve told you, you have my blessing. If you need anything, if anyone gives you trouble, don’t hesitate to come to me, got it?”
Ghost scoffs despite the threat of tears in his eyes. He looks at Price now, and sees much more than a Captain. He sees something he has never had.
“Copy.”
It’s not Johnny that finds him first, but Garrick, floating around the hallway in front of Price’s office.
“Need the Captain, Sergeant?” Ghost inquires.
Gaz stops, “no, I got a message from Soap.”
His interest instantly piques, “go on.”
Garrick rummages through his pocket with his healthy hand and pulls out a note, “he said ‘meet me here’, and that you should ‘clean up’.” the Sergeant wiggles his eyebrows, “sounds like he has a nice surprise for ya, sir.”
Ghost takes the note, examining the location. Looks like a street in the city neighboring the base. “I’m off then. Don’t get into trouble, Garrick. Cheers.”
Gaz frowns, pointing at his injured arm, “not like I bloody can…”
Ghost smiles while walking away, “if anyone could find a way, it would be you Sergeant.”
He chuckles lowly at Gaz’s fussing as he makes his way to the base’s parking lot.
The sun has started to set by the time Ghost reaches the location Soap left for him, the sky painted reds and oranges and yellows that remind him fondly of Johnny’s radiant fire.
He changed into a more casual outfit, covering his face with only a cloth mask and a hoodie.
Ghost’s lips stretch so much he fears they’ll get stuck like that, when he spots the place. An elegant sign hangs above a restaurant, one that looks small and cozy, with dimmed warm lighting, and plants covering the brick walls.
He parks the car nearby and walks in, a waiter catching his stare and approaching him.
“Are you uh… ‘Ghost’?” he says with hesitation.
Ghost scans the tables, trying to find one warhawk sticking out, “affirm.”
The waiter sighs in relief, “your partner is already here. Follow me.”
The man leads him to a more secluded area, a low wall separating it from the main room. Ghost feels his heart thrum a familiar beat when he finally finds Johnny, sitting alone in a table for two.
“Your orders will arrive soon, please make yourself at home.” the waiter gives him a wobbly smile, and Johnny chuckles at the man practically running away.
“You really do have quite the effect on people, don’t ye Simon?” his Sergeant smiles.
Simon huffs, sitting down in front of him, “what’s all this, then?” he nods to the restaurant.
Johnny leans in, taking his hand, “I promised I’ll treat ye nicely, to a good restaurant, didn’t I?”
“You remembered?” Simon blinks in surprise.
“Of course,” Johnny grins, “I also remember ye said ye will treat me equally.”
“Had a feeling this was too good to be true…” Simon sighs, mask covering his smile.
“Oi!”
Simon pulls the mask off, making Johnny snap his mouth closed, “thank you.” he smirks smugly at his Sergeant’s amazed expression.
“Fuck me, I almost forgot how beautiful ye are.” Johnny mumbles.
Heat spreads over his exposed features, Simon looks away, “guess I’ll have to remind you more often.”
“Oh, please! I won’t ask fer anything else!”
Simon glances back at him, “we both know that’s fucking bullshite, Sergeant.”
Johnny laughs, tugging at his hand, “aye, ye know me too well.”
They quiet down to a comfortable silence, grins fading to soft smiles.
“Whatever comes next…” Simon inhales, grasping Johnny’s hand tighter. “We’ll do it together, love.”
Johnny lets his white flames caress Simon’s scarred hands, casting an otherworldly glow over them, making them shine as if lit from within.
If his heart could, it would be brighter than the sun now.
“Together.”
The End.
#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod mw2#cod ghost#cod soap#cod gaz#cod price#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#john price#alejandro vargas#rodolfo parra#farah karim#alex keller#kate laswell#revenant au#call of duty fic#call of duty fanfic#call of duty modern warfare#cod fic#cod fanfic#ghostsoap#soapghost#ghoap#im actually tearing up a little#im genuinely so happy with how this all went#its quite late rn so the post fic thoughts will come tomorrow#love you all so much <3 giving you the biggest hug
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Brave your neck to see the sun
Just another thing that lives in my head rent free that is half a fic, half an idea, that begs to be written, so here is the mix of it.
And because who I am as a person, I slapped it on Ao3 as well.
(cw, lettenhove has fallen, sad stuff in general, loss of family, their spirits)
Because....
Cursed Jaskier.
I mean, he is immortal, and his home, Lettenhove, is but crumbled rock by now, and jaskier is tied to their ruins.
And maybe madness is threatening in the corner of his eye, maybe the past is talking to him, maybe the stones remembered what they looked like in ages past.
And Jaskier cannot leave.
Maybe this is where jaskier goes after the mountain, because when he last was home, it was still standing.
But the land is fallen, burned, ash on his tongue.
Maybe there was a curse put on the stones rather than him, keeping what remains of the family bound to the ground, for the dynasty to defend against an army should they return.
And Jaskier is caught in the ruins, and the remains of his family and his childhood.
Geralt finds Ciri, and she dreams of Yennefer, yes, but she cant' stop dreaming of a land that was, and she feels herself pulled there, but it is too dangerous, because it is on the other side of the army following her.
When they finally go, the survivors in the gathering of houses on the outskirts of Lettenhove speak of a ghost, of lights as the darkness is falling, of the sound of crying, and singing, sometimes laughing.
It takes time for them to make it up there, the magic fighting them every step of the way, making it treacherous and dangerous.
Jaskier can hear them coming, but they are not the first ones attempting to seek the treasures of what once was, and he hides.
They find a lute, broken in what seems in a fit of rage against the stones. some of the strings are still connecting the neck to the body, and Geralt feels a pang of fear when he recognizes it.
Jaskier has had time to make many hiding spots, a routa of sorts, of small camps. There are weeds growing around the cracked stones, sticking up defiantly, baring their necks to see the sun.
Eventually Geralt finds Jaskier, hiding in one of the crumbled rooms, a half burned painting propped up against the wall, a little girl with one eye covered with yellow locks looking out, holding the hand of her older brother.
Jaskier holds his dagger out, until he realizes who it is.
Geralt doesn’t know how to break the curse, and it hurts Jaskier to leave. They can’t stay with him, and to not raise suspicion they have to leave him behind.
Jaskier watches them leave, and he knows that he won’t see them again. Why would Geralt come back after all, now that Jaskier finally can’t follow.
He waits until he can’t see them anymore, until he believes they can’t hear him anymore, and he screams out his frustrations, voice echoing against the stones.
Eventually Yennefer finds him, and she has the solution. Not a pleasant one, but one that allows him to leave.
His bloodline is tied to this place, imprinted on him when his fathers father brought him underground and a small child, and put his blood among his ancestors.
What Jaskier thought was madness was instead shattered remains of a spirit.
With the witch’s help, Jaskier’s mother’s spirit wakes, and she cries when she sees her son.
“Where were you?” She asks, she grieves, she screams, until her rage has run its course.
More spirits rise, and Yennefer keeps them safe in the middle of the courtyard.
The curse can’t be lifted, but they learn that Jaskier can be freed, can move on from his past if he lifts his imprint away from the stone.
A grave hag has taken residence below, her cackling and grunting traveling up the stairs, and Yennefer too must leave Jaskier, to bring a witcher to help.
Her magic is still fragile, and she places her hand on Jaskier’s cheek as he takes her goodbye, leaving him with the spirits of his family.
Eventually it is Eskel who kills the hag, keeping Jaskier company when he laughs a little too loudly, his eyes a little too wide with unrest and grief.
When Yennefer finally returns, she brings Geralt and Ciri once more, and they are surprised to see Eskel by Jaskier’s side, the hag dealt with.
Yennefer presses Jaskier’s cut palm against the cold stone of his ancestors, chanting as she recalls his blood, distangles his past from the stone.
Above, the ruins creak and groan, the spirits growing agitated. They shriek and they trash and they try to protect their home from the intruders.
When they emerge, Jaskier is quiet. He is quiet as he tests his first steps outside the ruin grounds, and he is quiet when he looks back to what was his home, and then his prison.
The ground is covered in weeds, slowly dancing in the wind, the spirits keeping their own company.
Lettenhove is no more, and the ruins remain unbothered.
Sometimes Jaskier returns, just to speak with his sister. Sometimes he sings to his mother, and talks about the worldly affairs with his father.
Jaskier is not tied to the stone anymore, but his spirit will not rest until his family does.
Ciri doesn’t dream of the ruins anymore, but sometimes she gets a faraway look, takes Jaskier’s hand, and asks if he would take her to the coast.
Geralt and Yennefer never reconnected after the djinn. and eventually finds another djinn to break the wish.
She finds her own way, even if it is connected to Ciri’s, and she finds her own destiny in the shape of a Merigold.
It takes time for Geralt to build up what he broke. Takes time to figure out how friendship works, and even more so when Geralt figures out his own feelings towards the bard.
The bard is not the same man, how could he be, but he grows anyway. Grows like a defiant weed in the cracks of a stone, baring their neck to see the sun.
#whump the bard i guess#cursed!jaskier#geraskier#the witcher#lettenhove#julian alfred pankratz#i'm not saying he left his name behind#but maybe he did#this almost took a very darker turn i just need you all to know this#dapanda writes#geralt of rivia#cirilla of cintra#witcher eskel#yennefer of vengerberg
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Okay I think I’m ganna elaborate on my Thunderbolts and New World Order theory because I can and I’m having IMMENSE brain rot rn. (Also please lemme know your thoughts or feel free to add on to this)
- General Ross as we know plays a pretty big role in both films. Neither of our boys have any love for Ross ESPECIALLY Sam, after the way he was treated on the raft. So when Ross starts gaining more political power, Sam is most likely immediately distrusting and suspicious of it and knows Ross well enough to know that he would be up to something more now with his presidential power.
- so essentially (either through the grape vine, walkers big ass mouth, or possibly even Everett Ross, I’ll get into my theory about him in a minute😏) Sam gets wind of what Thaddeus and Val are up to and don’t trust either of them to have control over a team of super powered individuals. So Sam wants to know more about this new team on the playing field but doesn’t have a contact on the inside that he trusts enough to get more information.
- that’s is, until Bucky potentially volunteers himself. Then there’s a lot of back and forth between them “Bucky no it’s dangerous” Sam my middle name is danger 😡” “Sam you trust me right?” “With my life Bucky” “then trust me to do this for you, we need a man on the inside” “if you do this, you keep in contact with me you understand? No more of this disappearing on me act” “I promise, you won’t lose me again” blah blah blah I’ll let the fic writers come up with more poetic shit
- But the question is, how do they get Bucky into the Thunderbolts without drawing suspicion? Well, anyone remember this?
- there’s a video of Bucky acting as the winter soldier somewhere out there. It’s likely that Sam asked Sharon to get a hold of it and keep it off web. But for Operation infiltrate thunderbolts, its the perfect “evidence” to have released. So Sharon, with the permission of Sam and Bucky, leaks it online. It’s the perfect ploy to make Thaddeus think he has some sort of leverage or reason over Bucky now. Because let’s be honest, Thaddeus can’t refuse the offer of getting the winter soldier to work for him and do his bidding. Bucky of course acts oblivious to the video, and let’s himself get arrested once Thaddeus gets the authority to do so.
- Wam Bam Bippity Bow, Bucky is now on the thunderbolts team, acting like this wasn’t the plan, acting pissed that he’s there, acting forlorn and dejected that he’s tied back down to the government, leaving Val and Thaddeus none the wiser (Ha ha suck it assholes) all while secretly reporting back to Sam every-time he can when the cost is clear.
- and all of this can either take place in the final or first act of Cap 4 or the beginning act of Thunderbolts. It’s the perfect reason as to why They won’t be in the same projects, but would still give them each an opportunity to appear for some scenes in eachothers movies (BECAUSE THEY ARE NOT GETTING DIVORCED DAMMIT).
- Now if you want to add ANOTHER spicy level to this well look no further! Remember that I mentioned Everett Ross before? There have been a few rumors that Thunderbolts is going to mainly center around the search for Vibranium, and it would make sense from what we saw of Val in Wakanda Forever. There are also rumors that Sam might appear in secret invasion, where Everett Ross also is. Thus giving them a potential connection.
- Everett as we know is highly trusted by the Wakandans, so we know he likely tells them what Val is up to with the thunderbolts and the potential vibranium plot. Everett however can’t get involved because he was already arrested once by Val, and the Wakandans can’t be seen interfering with international affairs based off a hunch they got from an “anonymous” source. Gosh if only there was an avenger with ties to Wakanda who still may have to redeem themselves after releasing Zemo…..oh wait😏
- It’s a nice way for Bucky to earn the trust of the Wakandans back completely while simultaneously keeping an eye on the new team recruits to see who may actually be avengers material for Sam (Yelena and Ghost obviously) instead of just being a thunderbolt for the government to use as a living weapon.
Ok that’s it, that’s my master theory. I’ll probably add to this later cause I just have too many thoughts and the brain rot has overtaken me once again
#this is SO long I’m so sorry#but im really not cause I think I’m a genius#sambucky#sam wilson#james bucky buchanan barnes#sam wilson captain america#marvel#captain america#bucky barnes#tfatws#captain america new world order#captain america 4#thunderbolts#thunderbolt ross#thaddeus ross#everett ross#contes#contessa valentina allegra de fontaine
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