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#but I hope it reaches to those who needed it too
i-am-hungry-24-7 · 16 hours
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Read your post about something other than angst for Simon so I have a thought that needs to get out. Morning routine with Simon. Obviously, the man is military and has a strict routine but that all goes to shit with you. Sleeping in, lazy lunch, all that cute couples shit but with Simon.
hello! tyvm for sending this idea! cute and silly couple’s domestic fluff is sweeettt!! I hope you will enjoy this :D 💖
A Day of A Cute (and Silly) Couple - Simon Riley*Reader
[6:00]
Simon doesn’t need an alarm, he automatically wakes up at 6 am.
Jogging is an important part of his morning routine when he’s on leave, a nice way to maintain his stamina, and to keep him from getting too loose.
“Where you... going...”
Oh, he forgets he has an unavoidable barrier, between him and his morning jog.
Simon looks down at you, clenching at the hem of his shirt. Your eyes aren’t even open, you just catch him in instinct and now refusing to let go.
“Go for a jog, you know it, love.” The calmness of morning makes him explain in a soft tone unconsciously.
“Stay... please...”
“You can hug your blåhaj first, I will be back soon, yeah?”
“You feel better than blåhaj...”
“...”
It’s too cruel for him to just leave you here, not when you choose him over that bloody shark you always squeeze against your body.
Simon secures the curtain so the room won’t be too bright after the sun fully rises, and lies back on the bed.
Your limbs immediately twine around him when you sense his figure is nearby, and scoots closer to him.
Jogging is important to keep him from getting loose... it’s a must for him to be strict with his morning routine...
The voices in his mind are gradually replaced by the little snores of yours as he drifts back to sleep.
[12:00]
“Can we eat fries for lunch?”
you yell at Simon who’s preparing lunch in the kitchen.
“No”
“WHYYYY!”
“UNHEALTHY!” He shouts back so his voice won’t get covered by the noise of the range hood.
okay then... you feel a bit disappointed, but you can’t come up with a convincing reason, so you just back to sweeping the floor.
just as you’re cleaning the last few spots, a scrumptious smell catches your attention, it’s not those chicken breast or salad or scrambled eggs that Simon deems healthier.
“Do you make fries?!” You knock open the kitchen door with excitement.
What you see is Simon sprinkling some salt and pepper on a bowl of fries, and he turns to you when you rush in like an energetic child.
“A few fries are tolerable” He shows you the bowl, and you can’t wait to reach out and take a bite on the crunchy and golden fries.
“Thank you, baby.” You press an open mouth kiss on your lover’s cheek.
“Don’t kiss me with your greasy mouth...”He growls, but you’re already leaving the kitchen, lilting an off-key song with the bowl of fries in your arms.
Simon just shakes his head and starts cleaning the countertop. If some fries can make you this happy, then fuck those healthy diets.
[18:00]
You two sitting face to face on the couch, the air is full of tension when you speak first.
“Mushroom”
“Mango”
“Oreo”
“Orange”
“Egg”
“g...”
“It’s over 2 seconds! Go take out the garbage, silly!”
“Fucking hell...”
Snickering at Simon’s loss, as he grumbles and on his way to grab the garbage, you add another star under your name to ‘the winner of the week’ sticky note that’s pasting on the fridge.
[23:00]
“Time to sleep.”
“but I want to watch this movie.”
“You can watch it tomorrow.”
“pleassee I want to watch it nowww Simonnn”
“...Fine.”
(00:00)
Simon looking at you sleeping like a log, whole body leaning on him and tangling him like an octopus, totally ignoring the wretched screaming from the movie, sighs and turns off the TV.
He leaves a night lamp for you, in case you need to get up for water during the night, and adjusts you two into a more comfortable posture.
He hears you mumbling something like donuts or maybe your favorite character, and chuckles quietly at how silly you are.
He already knew you would fall asleep during the movie, so that’s why he gave in, and time proves that his prediction’s correct since he’s looking at your serene face now.
“Goodnight.” Satisfied with you resting safe and sound in his arms, Simon plants a kiss on the top of your head and closes his eyes, hoping for a sweet dream that has you in it.
a/n: blåhaj sorry I love u I don't mean to harm u
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grandline-fics · 3 days
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Hi there! I hope u are doing well, can I request a strawhats crew reaction to a reader who can see ghosts or souls? It can be like their devil fruit power or just something that they're born with. It can be a short fic with all the strawhats or if it's too much it can just be the monster trio, i don't mind either way, do what you prefer! Thanks for letting me request!
DESCRIPTION:  You can see ghosts and spirits
WARNINGS: don’t think it’s too angsty but does mention dead characters. Luffy's is set just before a canon event.
CHARACTERS: Sanji, Zoro, Luffy
WORDS: 1,672
A/N:  Thank you for this request. For some reason I struggled a lot with how I wanted this to go and I hope you're happy with this outcome.
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST
———————
You didn’t really know the rhyme or reason for your gift. It was just always something you had and having grown up being able to see and speak with spirits you’d never felt the need to investigate it. Besides even if you were to learn the reason for your unique talent, it wasn’t like you were ever going to seek out a way to get rid of it. As far as you were concerned it was a part of you and it brought comfort to a lot of people once they got over their shock and in some cases heavy skepticism that you were playing a cruel prank on them. 
When you first set foot on the Thousand Sunny you had to suppress the shiver that ran up your spine as you were hit with an intense feeling that those on the crew were connected to a lost one and the weight of their grief was still heavy on their shoulders even if they didn’t realise it themselves. So you decided to keep your ability to yourself for now and help when the occasion to do so arose. As you set yourself up in your quarters you smiled softly, seeing that you truly were brought onto the crew for a reason. Idly you wondered who in the crew would be the first you would help.
SANJI
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Sanji turned out to be the first. You entered the kitchen and smiled in greeting to the ship’s cook only your gaze to drift behind his shoulder. Your smile fell slightly and you stepped further into the room, peering at Sanji with intent concern. “What’s wrong?” You asked, taking the chef by surprise as his own smile faltered. 
“Nothing, now that you’re here.” He insisted, adopting his charming smile once more  but you firmly shook your head, refusing to be convinced by his outward demeanour. Sanji became nervous and let his gaze fall away from you stare, finding it easier to maintain his pretence. Quickly he turned back to his chopping board and continued to prepare food for the evening meal. “What on earth would make you think something was wrong?” He asked, trying to keep his voice level. 
“Your mother only ever shows this clearly when you’re deeply upset about something.” Your voice was soft but it was enough to make Sanji drop his knife against the block with a dull thud. He felt like laughing at the ludicrous statement at the same time he felt like shouting at you for the weird joke. Yet he couldn’t do either. You didn’t know anything about him or his family and he knew it wasn’t in you to say something so heartless. Thankfully he didn’t need to demand you explain yourself because you proved your honesty immediately. “You have her eyes and smile, kind and comforting. She worries when you get like this, hiding how you truly feel.”
Sanji looked over his shoulder to see you smiling fondly at something or rather someone beside him. Desperately he wished he could see what you saw, to see her again but if this was as close as he could get then he would take it a hundred times over. “I don’t want anyone to worry, least of all her.” 
“Sanji we all have bad days and hiding that from the people we care about isn’t the way to do it.” You told him, finally looking at his face again, reaching out to lightly push some of the hair from his eyes. “We have emotions for a reason and no-one expects you to suppress them. I’m always here to listen, okay?” You weren’t surprised to be brought into a tight hug by Sanji and returned the embrace, letting him hold you for as long as he needed.
ZORO
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It took some time for you to finally see the spirit attached to Zoro’s heart with enough clarity to take in her appearance and hear her. It didn’t surprise you that this one took longer, Zoro’s personality never came across as being someone who clung to the past and let it cloud his vision but on a day like this it was clear even Zoro wasn’t invulnerable to the deepest of connections that you could now see had been cut far too soon. 
You’d wandered up to the Crow’s Nest to both take a break from the chaotic noise of Luffy, Franky, Chopper and Usopp and also settle in for your evening watch. This wasn’t anything new so Zoro only gave you a brief glance in greeting before going back to training against one of the reinforced training dummies Franky had made to withstand his attacks enough for a worthwhile practice. However he wasn’t moving the way he wanted, something was wrong with his movements. “You’re forgetting the fundamentals.” 
Your voice came from the seating and Zoro looked over his shoulder to see you were casually leaning against the edge, looking out at the ocean. He cocked his head to the side and arched an eyebrow at you. You weren’t even watching him, how would you know what he was apparently doing wrong? As if feeling his stare, you turned your head to look at him. “You’re getting too stuck in your head, just take a breath and keep it simple.” 
Zoro had to scoff at the advice. Yes, you were a fighter but not a swordsman so to be told what was wrong stung his ego slightly. It’d be like if he tried to tell Franky how to fix the ship. You seemed to read the offence on his face and it surprised him to see you laugh and hold up your hands lightly in defence. “That’s not coming from me, it’s coming from Kuina.”
Kuina? Now Zoro found himself glaring and tensing out of a fear of his private life being pried into. Where had you heard that name? Who told you about her? Not that he confided in many about his childhood friend. You sighed sadly and got to your feet. This wasn’t the first time you’d seen this kind of reaction and it wasn’t surprising that Zoro fell back onto the defensive and become distrustful. You stopped in front of the swordsman and glanced briefly at the spirit at his side.
“She’s happy to see you’ve come so far but your name hasn’t quite reached the heavens yet. You still have a long way to go and she believes in you.” You smiled and lightly punched Zoro’s arm when you saw the belief and shock appear in his no longer skeptical gaze. “Keep getting stronger but don’t forget her father’s teachings okay?”
“I won’t let her down. I made a promise.” Zoro affirmed strongly and you grinned, turning to go back to your seat when he quickly caught your arm, surprising you. You turned and looked at him questioningly. “If she’s still here do you…do you think you can help me speak to her?” 
LUFFY
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It wasn’t much of a surprise to you that Luffy was the one to seek you out. He’d caught some talk from the crew about the things you just seemed to know things about their past or about someone they knew that had passed away. His suspicions were confirmed when you’d all stopped on an island for supplies and you’d helped a grieving family in a way no-one else could. You’d managed to ease their pain and reassure them that their loved one was still with them and had no regrets. When you were back on the Sunny he appeared beside you on the railings, grinning widely and already bouncing with excitement. “You see ghosts right?”
“Yeah, I see them. Not at will though.” You clarified, with Luffy being well Luffy you didn’t want to disappoint him by making him think that what you could was as easily controlled as a Devil Fruit ability which this was not. Still though your statement didn’t deflate him, if anything he only got more excited and he leaned in closer and set his hands on your shoulders. 
“What about me? Is someone with me?” Despite how excited he was you could sense a faint desperation coming from Luffy and you wanted to be able to help but as you’d already told him this wasn’t something that you could manipulate and command freely whenever you wanted. You looked at Luffy carefully and then around him in search of a presence connected to him. Suddenly you felt a warmth and made out the outline of a man standing behind your Captain and you couldn’t help but smile.
“Ace.” You felt like you were saying it in greeting. You’d known about Luffy’s brother but never had the pleasure of actually getting to meet him. It was almost eerie how both Luffy and Ace grinned so happily and in sync but it was also so infectious. Luffy seemed pleased but then seemed to be eager for more. 
“Is it just Ace? Is anyone else with him? Maybe younger?” He asked and you slowly shook your head with a small frown. 
“Sorry Luffy, just Ace.” You said, disappointed that you couldn’t give Luffy what he wanted and seeing him sigh slightly and lower his gaze briefly made you feel guilty even though you knew it wasn’t your fault. Still though you couldn’t help but look to Ace, silently pleading for assistance on his part. However the brother only smirked knowingly and you began to suspect that Ace knew something you and Luffy didn’t. Thankfully that was all you needed to cheer Luffy up. “Just because I don’t see them doesn’t mean they’re not with you though Luffy. Maybe next time whoever it is you’re thinking about will be there instead?” 
“Yeah you’re right!” Luffy grinned while leaping up onto the railing, his previous excited energy returning instantly. Before you could speak any more, Law’s voice called for Luffy wanting to go over the plan for when you all would be reaching Dressrosa in just a couple days time. 
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fuckmyskywalker · 2 days
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𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐧!𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈: 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬.
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Summary: A week of chaos. From the end to the very beginning. You find yourself in the darkness, remembering how the light touched your skin first. When you fly too close to the sun...
CW: 18+. dead dove do not eat, non-con, gun play, knife play, knife riding, death threats, dirty talk, dark content. | word count: 3.3k
a/n: Hope you enjoy it! DNI if you don't like the topics listed and DNI if you are a minor. Happy riding!
Hitman!Anakin series.
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"𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘺."
Sunday. 16th.
Comically, he could argue with any soul that crossed the empty streets that life doesn’t have a price. He could laugh at the soft-spoken, naive answer of self-value, laced with the dumb kindness of human nature. Humans are kind by nature, or that’s what idealists say; what— a sane person, he thinks— would say is that humans are selfish by nature, the realistic approach.
Since the start of times, the number two has been sacred. There are two worlds to join in the afterlife: Heaven and hell. Two deities to recognize: God and the Devil. Two spectrums: Good and bad. Two cycles: Day and night… and two options: To kill, or get killed. 
It could also be described as a constant phrase he learned while growing up: “The strong one will eat the weak one”, eight words haunting him like the plague, following him and patting his shoulder at every failure, and congratulating him at every success. Strength equals power, money equals power, intelligence equals power… but can a man have it all without losing his mind? Or perhaps he is just getting philosophical when he shouldn’t. Unlocking the windows with ease as his mind races with the never-ending turmoil of an unfair life, edging him to do unfair jobs, and win dirty money. 
Although Anakin Skywalker has learned that some hot dish soap helps clean the blood stains over dollar signs.
Twisting the knife— an anxious habit— Anakin stands beside your bed, watching your immobile boy. There’s a soft smile plastered on your face, you must be having a nice dream… too bad it won’t last long. Leaning down, the tip of the knife dances over your neck, careful— careful. Not yet. Those aren’t his instructions. Although his boss never specified the in-betweens. 
His lips ghost over the shell of your ear, raising goosebumps in your slumber. Your skin is aware of the intruder, the instincts kicking in. “Hey,” His voice is barely audible, but his warm breath sends a jolt of adrenaline like a lethal injection directly into your veins. “Wake up.”
Your eyes shoot open, body jolting forward only to be pushed back by the knife against your throat and his gloved hand over your face. There’s no need to use brutal force, it’s easy to fuel your fear; blue eyes staring into yours through the holes of the black ski mask. He can tell you are shaking— in fact, he can see it. 
“Don’t move, don’t try to scream. If you do, I’ll slice your throat from ear to ear. Smiley face, that’s why I like to call that,” He chuckles when he sees you shivering. Oh, to be the strong one grants him with a power that makes him feel alive. Who cares about repercussions when simple acts and sighs like your tears make him feel immortal? “Do I make myself clear?”
You nod weakly. Every fiber of your being is yelling at you to run, to push him and throw him everything within your reach but you can’t move. Your body is paralyzed and for the first time in your privileged life, you realize something frightening. When he pulls back and lets go of you, the loud exhale that escapes your lungs pleasures him even further. Good. Everything is going according to plan.
It doesn’t matter how much money you have. You can die just like anyone else. 
“See, I can imagine you already know why I am here,” Anakin continues, chuckling when you shake your head. “No? Uh, I thought you’d be smarter. Well, I guess money can’t buy intelligence.”
Your eyes flicker to his wrist, watching him twist the knife. At least he isn’t all over you. How can a human be so calm while toying with another’s future? As if it wasn’t a delicate situation, as if money was everything in the world— pathetic. 
Stuttering, you run toward the only option your brain knows. “I’ll d–double the price. I’ll triple it,” Your legs move, hanging them on the edge of your tall bed. Anakin arches an eyebrow, he could’ve killed you for moving. Yet, he is somewhat interested in your offer. “I can pay much more than whoever hired you.”
“Oh, really?” Anakin laughs. It’s a cold, bitter laugh. There is no humor in it. Only cruelty. “And what makes you think money was the only thing I got paid with?”
“Who hired you?”
He laughs again. It has been seconds since you heard him laugh for the first time and you loathe the sound already. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out, darling. Or maybe I’m lying. Maybe it’s just like the movies and I get a mystery envelope with money and your name. Would that make you feel better?”
He is definitely mocking you, which normally would raise your anger and bring out the worst in you— right now it seems like a bad choice. Anakin can’t blame you for questioning, every victim does, sometimes he grants them their wish— when they aren’t that important— sometimes he just does the job, hoping they die with their doubts as their last thought. Your life's on the line, it must be the first time someone has pierced your little bubble… so yeah, he can’t blame you. 
“Please don’t kill me, I’ll… I’ll do anything.”
There it is. Classic. His favorite words. Anything means anything. Everything is fair in love and war— everything is fair at gunpoint. “Anything?’ He repeats. “It’s not like I haven’t heard that one before.” His sarcastic tone flies over your head. You cannot pay attention to anything else besides the ringing in your eardrums and the palpitations of your heart. 
Anakin finds great joy in fueling the terror in your soul. It is something he wasn’t exactly born with— or at least, during his loneliest nights, buried in alcohol and money, surrounded by his guns and his ghosts. He isn’t afraid of them, they can’t hurt him. 
“Anything,” You confirm, lip wobbling and tears streaming down your cheeks. His task was awfully simple, yet, there is something he must do first now that he sees you more clearly. Anakin doesn't have the pleasure to witness such a pretty downfall often.
In a swift move, Anakin lifts the knife over his head, smirking wider when you raise your hands in a pitiful attempt at self-defense. Expectant, you sob one last time before the pain comes, before the burning sensation of piercing skin and crimson blood. 
Which never arrives. 
The sharp blade pierces through the sheets and the mattress. Ripping the stitches and creating the most awful sound you have ever heard in your life. That could’ve been your face. Did he miss his shot? Is his aim that bad? Your vision is blurry due to the thick coat of tears, crystal clear and salty that trickle down like tiny diamonds. 
“Money is not enough this time, sweetheart,” He coos at you, cupping your cheek and brushing your tears in a fake act of kindness. His pursed lips make your stomach twist. You never thought there’d be fates worse than death… but here you are. “I won’t kill you—” His words make your shoulder fall for a second as a smile dances on your chapped lips like the weak swing of a butterfly’s wings. “Yet.”
“What do you want from me?” You sob, placing your hands on your lap, not sure what to do with them. You are in no position to fight. You are under the mercy of a clear psychopath. Someone without morals, without ethics and values— under the claws of a monster. 
The worst part? You don’t even know who is pulling the strings tied over the monster’s claws. 
“Don’t be sad, sweetheart. I’m sure you will find it amusing— and if you don’t I don’t care,” If you weren’t begging for your life, his voice could’ve been attractive. Even his eyes. His fucking eyes that seem to pierce your soul. “You see that handle?” He points at the knife with his chin. “I want you to lift your cute nightgown and ride it. You can close your eyes and imagine a cock, I’m sure you’ve done it before from what I’ve heard about you. If I like the show, I’ll let you ride my cock— and if I don’t like it. I’ll kill you.”
“You cannot possibly ask me to—”
A small squeal escapes your lips when the muzzle of a gun comes in contact with your temple. The steel is frigid against your burning skin. There are no words left in your throat, if you weren’t terrified you would’ve thrown up. 
“You don’t like to think, you don’t like to listen— I’m starting to believe you are actually stupid, princess. You either fuck that knife or die.” Your whimper. Irritating. Infuriating. Fucking lovely. 
Lifting your hips from the bed, you kneel with the little strength you have left. Anakin never removes the gun from your temple, in reality, he presses it further, watching your skin dent slightly. Lifting your sheer nightgown, you clumsily hook your finger at the waistband of your panties, tugging them down with embarrassment.
“Please don’t make me do this,” You beg, losing balance momentarily as your panties hang from your ankle. 
There is a storm echoing in his laugh. Like pouring rain falling over your heart before it even reaches your ears. “If you don’t do it, I’ll force you. I will enjoy it more… and then you’ll die.”
The flat tip of the blade handle feels like steel against your folds. The touch is feathery light, perhaps unintentionally gentle. You are glad there is a thick leather wrapped around it— otherwise, it might hurt even more. 
Rocking your hips slowly, you close your eyes focusing on anything else. You will not enjoy this. You refuse to give him pleasure. If this is the way you die— at least you want to imagine you put up some kind of fight. Despite your constant thoughts— foolishly thinking your mind is stronger than your body— when the handle comes in contact with your clit, your body instinctively jolts. You stop. You don’t talk. 
You don’t want to die. You don’t want to die, and you don’t want to enjoy it.
“Spread your legs wider and don’t stop moving. Don’t make me go there and open them myself,” His voice is low. “Show me how much you don’t want this.” His voice mixed with the adrenaline brings you to a borderline dizzy state. 
Resuming your movements, you bite the inner part of your cheek, flinching when his free hand cups your breast. “See? Is not that difficult to obey. I know you are so used to getting your way, little princess. But not this time. Not with me.”
His thumb traces your nipple poking through the silk. You hate yourself for this— even more when you find a steady rhythm. Your clit grinds against the flat top and throbs, quickly begging for more. Hooking the barrel underneath the thin straps of your nightgown, Anakin lets them fall, exposing your chest. 
“Don’t come. If you do, your tiny brains will make a bloody mess over your lovely canopy and walls. Now fucking ride it.”
The leather glistens with your arousal. It’s pathetic, humiliating, miserable. When you position yourself above it, when you flex your knees to fit it— that’s when everything you are— breaks. 
The handle stretches your walls in a way that couldn’t be more uncomfortable. Your arousal helps but only much. Unhurriedly, you begin to ride it just like he commanded you to, just like you have to. Your pussy clenches around it, you can’t even fool yourself and think it is a dick. Nothing could help you now. No one can save you now.
“Seems to be you can listen sometimes…” Anakin observes, removing the gun from your skull to press it against the valley of your breasts. “Don’t think I can’t see how wet you are. Are you that deranged you are enjoying this?”
Are you?
Is he?
You just have to do this. Right?
Too many questions, no answers. 
“Faster.”
Increasing your pace, the tears make themselves known again. You are enjoying it. Your walls are dripping, your pussy is begging for more. The slick sticks to the leather like a second layer of shine, the sounds your body is making are against your will— but you can’t stop moving. Anakin breathes loudly, his own excitement evident. You cannot see the outline of his erection underneath his black cargo pants but he feels it, throbbing, leaking, eager to bury itself in you. Hear you sob and feel you clench after every cry.
“So fucking wet,” He mumbles, pressing his lips against your sweaty neck. The soft cotton of his ski mask brushes over your skin, bringing you a nasty comfort. “Remember, if you come… you die.”
The muzzle now dances over your nipple, distracting you from the burn in your lower stomach for a second— when his hand finds your clit. Circling it quickly, roughly, Anakin exhales again right in your ear. 
“I can’t wait to fuck you. I hope you are ready to die while I bury my cock inside you.”
A loud moan, mixed with a throat-ripping wail falls down your lips, body writhing and hips trashing. The handle is as deep as it can go, and before your vision goes white you feel the gun poking underneath your chin. Your hands curl around the hem of the nightgown you are still lifting, almost piercing the expensive and delicate fabric. Your orgasm is strong, it clouds your senses and for a moment the euphoria makes you forget how you just marked your destiny. The handle is sticky just like your thighs. The world is spinning.
Your life is ruined.
Just as your vision goes white, it goes black.
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Monday. 10th.
Politics are known to be comparable to walking on thin ice. One false step and you sink— all the way to the cold and lonely bottom. Made only for the ones who can twist and turn others under their will and for those who aren’t scared of the nerve-wracking possibility of being a hero or a villain. 
When your father offers you the vacancy for Campaign Manager you don’t hesitate to take the opportunity. Daddy dearest always serves opportunities such as these on a silver platter. Why would you refuse? Sure, a week before the presidential elections might be signing a death sentence, but why would you care? Even if you fall, your safety net is insured, secured and endorsed. 
“Are you sure you can do this alone?” Natasha Andrews, your father’s assistant lowers her clipboard, focusing her dirty blue eyes on you from beneath her thin-gramme glasses. “We have a week before the election, these last days are crucial.”
“I’ll be fine!” You answer confidently. To have such confidence and naivety that being young gives you. You just feel invincible. “I read some of John’s final projects. A few venues and bookings won’t scare me.”
“I don’t think you are seeing the big picture here,” Natasha calls your name patiently. Removing her glasses, folding them and placing them next to her clipboard, you can already imagine a boring lecture about responsibility. You’ll be fine! “Your father has an image to maintain, a reputation to hold and the statistics are growing in his favor. This last week is to secure the win. Your father chose you for a reason.” Another way to say ‘There are high expectations. You better fulfill them.’
Huffing, you take her words as a weak attempt at an insult. You understand the big picture. You’ve been surrounded by the big picture since you can remember. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 
Natasha runs a hand through her ginger locks, taking a deep breath. She’s too old to deal with all this. “Look. I know you are young and I’m sure you have wonderful ideas for the campaign, but our time is limited. We can only continue with the schedule and hope for the best. If your ideas can be incorporated into the events then you are more than welcome.”
Always used to getting your way, you find baffling how someone who doesn’t know can defy you— or in your eyes, Natasha is doubting your capacities. Standing up, you point at her. Your manicured nail, painted a crimson red holds an almost accusatory tone. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone— not even your father. There is no chance of failure, because when you are young… you are on top of the world.
“No, you look. I know you are worried but I can do this,” You reply, not bothering to hide the patronizing tone in your voice. “My father knows I’m more than capable. You may not know me but you will. If I want to change the date of a venue, or if I want to make a goddamned pool party we will. I know what’s best, I know what will work.”
Natasha raises an eyebrow at your words, her expression hardening slightly. “I never doubted your… abilities, Miss. We have a schedule we must follow. Nothing personal. It is your first day in your position. Can you even name three key supporters of Jonathan's campaign? Have you planned a meeting with potential donors for when your father wins the elections?”
The assistant has a point, but you won’t give up. You will never lose a fight. 
“Easy, everything you say is too easy,” You narrow your eyes, placing both palms on the desk to hide how they shake from frustration. “If I say the word, my father will fire you. It doesn’t matter how long you have been working with him. I’m his daughter.”
That’s your wild card.
And as usual, it works. 
Sighing through gritted teeth, Natasha rubs her temple. How can an educated girl like yourself be such a despicable person? “Go on.” 
The smile that brightens your face beams like flames. Threatening to consume everything on its way. Everything is easy when you have the influence. You were born with it, what’s wrong with using it? “Alright… key supporters….”
The redhead scribbles down as you talk, from all you know she is playing hangman with your face on the stick figure, not that you care, of course. Your mood heightens as she just listens and comments on trivial things such as locations and schemes. You knew it would be easy. You just need people that follow you. 
“We can do the last meet-and-greet at Cafe Serenity. My father invested in the project and the owner owes him that. I’m sure if we present the petition he will accept,” You talk, tangling the wires inside your head. “I can schedule an interview with Channel 7, Global News Network, and Insider Globe, they do most of the coverage during the elections and my father knows the actionist in GNN…”
“The meet-and-greet sounds good. It’s the perfect strategy to calculate the supporters Jonathan has. Plus the media coverage will be wonderful,” Her jaw clenches as she talks, but you are too busy staring at your nails to see the daggers coming from her eyes. “You’ve got a good grasp on this.”
“I know,” You smile, ignoring the fake smile. 
Suddenly, your phone rings. It’s an unknown number. A frown etches on your face as you pick it up. Excusing yourself from the table, Natasha nods, her blue orbs gluing to your back; if looks could kill…
Closing the door of the meeting room behind you, you bring the phone closer to your ear. “Hello? Who is this?” 
Silence.
“Hello?”
A feminine voice breaks the silence. The unknown woman calls your name and your heart stops momentarily. It sounds vaguely familiar, and it carries a heavy accent that you can’t pinpoint from where. 
“Lisseth? Is that you?” Your chirp echoes through the empty hallway. “I can’t believe you are back!”
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Thank you for reading! ✩
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tiyoin · 3 days
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pt.4 | 📍pt.5
rewrote, edited and proofread chapter five cause I thought it was horseshit and you guys deserved more from me. 🫶
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numb.
you tried to feel numb.
doing everything in your power to push down any kind of emotion that was ready to slip through your mask.
look ahead, stand tall, put one foot in front of the other so no one would know you were wearing a confidence coat that was 2 sizes too small.
don't breathe too loud they'll hear you.
don't step too loud they'll think about your weight.
don't blink too much they'll think you're fluttering your lashes at them.
don't tuck your chin in they'll think you're gross.
gross for what exactly? everything.
don't mess up the stepping pattern or else you'll look like a bumbling idiot as you try to get back on the rhythm.
don't clench your fists they'll think you're mad and unapproachable.
don't smile because you're not in front of a mirror where you can control how much you want to give away.
don't think too hard or else you'll become enraptured with your daydreams and you won't be able to take part in reality.
don't do anything with your lips or else some air will come in and create a sound that sounds similar to a fart. then they'll think you're extra gross.
all these rules you had to follow to 'be normal,' weren't an actual set of rules, but a lifestyle. you wouldn't get collared if you didn't do one of the rules, you wouldn't get yelled at or reprimanded.
you were okay. to your knowledge that is.
on the outside, you probably looked like you had a stick up your ass. always in a rush to get to where you needed to go. like one of those rolling backpack kids back in your world. whenever they would pass they'd take casualties with them. rolling over toes, pencils, teachers- there was nothing in their way they couldn't bulldoze through.
you were just missing the wheels and will of iron it took to be seen with such a… what’s the right word- atrocity, in public, let alone an all-boys school.
underneath the habits and self-induced numbness, past all the anxiety and fear there was a tickle. not an actual tickle, but a sudden feeling you couldn't identify. it wasn't rage or frustration. you weren't sad or envious... you think- it was something gentler than that.
something softer yet just as negative was infesting your heart and mind like a slow-acting poison. poisoning your thought process, your habits, your attitude, and your livelihood.
though the breeze and sunshine walking to class supplied your flesh with warm- there was a chill over your heart. the beams of warmth too short to reach into the many cracks and holes that were created. sometimes you thought there was a bug. a big, juicy parasitic bug that would suck away your hopes and feast on your memories. It had a sweet tooth that was for certain, only targeting happy memories as it kept you with the bad ones.
did you ever have happy memories?
there was nothing you could do about the pestering leech. it wouldn't go away with Kalim's warmth and silver's calm. two sides of the same coin.
but no matter how many times you flipped: heads or tails, heads or tails, heads or tails would never work.
yes, you would smile, you would laugh- put on a poor show to convince yourself and others that there was nothing wrong. Everything was okay deep down and inside your twisted little mind. 
sometimes, you weren't sure who exactly you were performing for. 
"why am I scared to laugh" you remembered asking yourself one night, putting down your jester's hat for the evening. 
looking in the dusty mirror, your eyes carefully roamed your face, ticking off imperfections as you scanned every feature, scrutinizing every fold, and every slight bump on your skin. saving the most obvious imperfection for last, you finally acknowledged the brewing red horn ready to grow on the side of your forehead.
you knew it was a normal thing that teenagers of all ages experienced. but you felt especially helpless now, with the lack of beauty supplies and makeup. but with a quick brush of your hair, the brewing red horn disappeared behind some tresses of hair.
"I look like a demon"
...
"though if it was on my nose, i'd look like rudolph"
there was no punchline. yet the observation- not even an original comparison, made you laugh. 
A tiny huff puffed from your chest. though the more you imagined yourself with deer ears and a bright lobster red nose, you could feel your thoracic region start to shake. trying to push the sixth sense of judgment the walls were giving you, you forced yourself to laugh. holding onto this artificial laugh as long as you could. you hadn't laughed in a while. hadn't smiled in a minute. you'd barely look at yourself in the mirror most days.
gripping onto the vanity you watched your eyes crinkle and smile stretch. tripping and stumbling over scattered objects in your room you were still clenching your stomach nonetheless.
you felt like a tumbling tornado. clumsily tripping over everything with no set destination or concern for the things in your path. a shoe got kicked up. a pen you remembered liking got stepped and rolled on. a book you read a few nights ago kicked to the door as you set your eyes on your bed. with a few more violent acts towards inanimate objects, you carried your shaking body to bed.
this was it. you were going insane, weren't you?
all you needed was a canvas and paints and you'd truly become insane.
flopping down unceremoniously you let it linger for a second. sighing in contentment as you stared up at the ceiling.
you loved laughing, it was fun! but you were afraid to laugh, to live. remembering Kalim's quote of 'Everything is fun when you make it fun,' you wanted to scoff at his naivety. but Kalim was right.
if you made things miserable for yourself that's how they'll be.
directing your mind back to your head, you blinked owlishly.
oh. you were so caught up in the daydream you forgot you were in the hallways.
peeking through bumping shoulders, you tried looking towards the wall to check the room number.
"shit"
making a giant u-turn with as many 'excuse me's' and 'pardon me's,' you rerouted yourself back to your class. never having walked this way to class you were a bit hesitant. what if you walked by it again? what if someone is watching you and making fun of you for being a daft idiot?
breathe.
but what if you're late for class? crewel will have your hide- skin? doesn't matter what it is cause it'll be his. what if they all laugh when we're late-
we're not late yet it's only-
but when we get to class we'll be late!
perking up when you noticed the assigned numbers to your class, you weaved through the chattering sardines and beelined it to class.
no bell. no expectant crewel. no eyes besides from the easy-to-ignore front row. perfect.
the sigh you were holding in finally set itself free as you adjusted the grip of your books, and you strolled down the isles.
don't walk too fast they'll think you're strange.
but also don't walk too slow so they don't think you're lazy.
head down absent-mindedly adjusting your books, you followed your hand's cue and put your attention on a fixed thing. aka: your books.
but to your relief, you soon found your seat. with a huff, you unloaded the cargo pulled out some loose-leaf paper, and started writing.
writing what? not even you knew. but it made you look busy and that was important.
you didn't lay around in bed all day. you didn't continuously scroll through your phone to distract yourself. you didn't cry at night looking at everyone's socials, wishing it was you having fun. envy bubbling like a nasty tar in your bloodstream as you scorned everyone for having fun when you're miserbale-
"y/n!'
"oow"
sliding in next to you was silver. hair disheveled and tie ever so crooked, though he still looked really good-
pervert a voice whispered. tensing, you looked around and saw no one paying attention to your little corner.
"I tried calling you in the hallway." his boyish smile eased a beat in your rhythmic heart, only for it to take 2 more beats.
"y-you did?" you gulped.
silver nodded as he organized his books. "Yeah, but it's so chaotic and loud I'm guessing you didn't hear me" you nodded in agreement, tongue slipping over itself as you tried conjuring up an excuse.
"I- uh I'm really sorry I didn't hear you. I didn't even know you were there! I was kinda worried about not being elbowed to death." you didn't know why you were chuckling at the end but it felt scene-appropriate. you weren't sure if you believed what you told silver despite it being the truth.
was he going to refute it? was he going to give you a once over and mentally think 'how dare they ignore me' because all the diasomnia students you'd interact with had that very haughty, entitled personality?
 but to your slight dissatisfaction, silver only nodded in understanding.
"I'm real-"
"There's no-"
you both started at the same time, sharing a shy smile at the pause.
"you can go ahead" he nodded. Waving your hands, you disagreed. "you were talking first, I'm sorry, go ahead"
even though you gave the green light, silver still heisted to go. giving the air another few seconds before he started talking.
"there is no need to ask for forgiveness. I understand if you couldn't hear me, I'm not the most vocal after all. if only sebek were here" he mulled the last part. wincing at the name, you wanted to pinch yourself for slipping up. damnit you showed that you didn't like a person he was friends with- he'll hate you now. you're screwed, you screwed yourself. don't you understand that he's probably planning on running to sebek as soon as you leave? then everyone in diasomnia is going to hate you-
you nodded, tiny little yellow sponges in white shirts and red ties ran around your brain as a fire roared throughout- wherever they were inside your head.
you tried to push the flood of incoming thoughts into a box, a big red crate with a crab lock to be exact. you were feeling antsy, looking for anything to focus on besides the silver-haired upperclassman in front of you. 
sometimes you wish you were a computer. unable to feel and to only run on logic. it seems easier that way.
a thought bubble popped into your brain like an internet pop-up ad. 
did they even have computers in twisted wonderland? duh of course they do, they have phones after all.
the thought of twisted wonderland's technology started to swarm and hijack your train of thought. effectively taking out the conductor and changing its course.
did they also have an Industrial Revolution like the United States had? what was the start of it? which kingdom had it first? was there something to set off the alleged revolution? How is it the same and how is it different from your world's?
did magic have allay in it? of course, it did. but how did magic make it different than-
"y/n"
snapping your head at the familiar voice. you looked to silver. only able to take in physical information as the new conductor saw a hole in the tracks, pulling the breaks almost immediately.
"you okay there?"
slowly you nodded, as a few members of the hijacking team jumped out of the train- some ideas and questions with it.
"yeah.. sorry about that, kinda got lost in my train of thought there"
nodding with understanding, silver started talking about how he would sometimes start nodding off when he was talking to someone. half paying attention, half trying to save the train- your brain was split in half as you took in all internal and external information.
until you heard the magic words everyone loves to hear: "what were you thinking ab-"
"The Industrial Revolution"
"... pardon?"
anddd you failed, the train fell into the deep deep gorge that the tracks would normally allow the said train to glide over... but alas! they were gone! blown to smithereens as it guided the train into the deep cavern. a big explosion followed soon after. 
"dont worry about it" you brushed him off. saved by the bell as Crewel stood up, riding crop in hand yelling out orders like a drill sergeant.
silver scooted closer. you scooted back, the original distance between you two doubling. you were focused on writing your name, date etc & etc, on another loose-leaf paper.
the dreamy-eyed second-year made some noises before he knew what he was going to say. he started softly "are you okay"? but then grew slightly louder as unease set in "from... last class? I mean I know yuu told me it was a touchy subject but... i just wanted to check in"
your pencil screeched to a halt as the words 'yuu told me-' chanted in your head. it was the only thing you could focus on because what did he mean 'yuu said-'. "what did yuu say." you spoke, voice stable for the first time that morning.
silver's tongue tied itself as he fixed his hair a bit. "well..." he straightened up slightly, "after you stormed... no, escape is a better word. after you escaped the classroom yuu followed before i could. but crewel ended up stopping me before i could even move. and i asked yuu what happened the next time i saw them and asked how you were doing.. to sum it up: they told me you get nervous around new people soo"
dread set over you like a fast-approaching shadow.
oh no. he thinks you're a weird socially inept loser doesn't he? he thinks you're some kind of loser that doesn't go out weekends, weekdays, any day for all that matter. he probably makes fun of you with sebek. right?
"ah well," you cleared your throat. a lie already on the tip of your tongue "I mean it's like- a yes and no kinda thing. I didn't have a lot of guy friends when I was younger so being thrust" you thrust your hands in emphasis "into an al guys school has been quite the adjustment."
quickly, your mind conjured up a painting of a small house in a meadow filled with wildflowers. it was the only thing you could see for miles. it was a nice house with a straw roof, a smoking brick chimney, and a little garden outback. the only problem with the house is that you blew it up.
 with nuclear missiles. 
and the intensity of the blast was so strong that it created a small crater in the earth, no traces of the house were left as it's entire existence was reduced to ash and rubble all because of you.
the urge to bash your head into the nearest wall like intruding hornets slipping through a crack in an attic to terrorize a small family. there goes your social life right?? what soil life? you killed it before you could even nurture it!
your mouth and mind were running on autopilot while your conscience went blank.
your mouth was a fountain that spewed water everywhere. trying to get yourself out of the hole you dug yourself- crater, more specifically.
"but uhhh yeah, no you're good! you're different and I'm quite glad I got partnered with you since you're not as..."
"boisterous?" silver quipped.
you nodded. silver chuckled, leaning further away from you. "yeah me too. if I got paired with one of your friends only the sevens know how much damage that'll do to my physical and mental well-being"
you both discreetly looked over at the rest of the class watching as all pairs seemed to be in some kind of chaos. whether it's floyd being impulsive, grim trying to add the wrong chemical into a potion. (you didn't even need to know what they were making to know that whatever he's trying to sneak in- doesn't belong there.)
and you were thanking whatever god the people of twisted wonderland worshipped that you weren't paired with one of the adeuce combo. ace would try to take control of the project, pretending he knew what he was doing while simultaneously giving you backhanded compliments on your intelligence. only to ruin the entire project and somehow find a way to blame you for it. 
meanwhile, deuce and you would be two peas in a squished pod: not knowing what you're supposed to be doing and ultimately winging it as you tried to match your hot barbie pink potion to crewel's muted blush potion. knowing the both of you, it would end up navy blue and when crewel went to fix it he would add a pinch of fleabane- a literal pinch, and it'd be fixed. embarrassing the both of you for all eternity.
"I wonder which group is gonna blow up the lab first mused quick to shut your lips, you were quick to wish for a sewing kit to forcefully shut you up.
but a small voice whispered 'it's better to take risks than stay comfortable.'
and silver seemed... nice.
silver looked out at the crowd for a moment longer, turning to you he started slowly, "while the yuu, grim, and ace trio seem to be the most obvious choice...." he thought carefully, "epel and deuce seem to be at a loss of what to do and are about 6 shade off. which surprised me since epel is in pomfiore"
"he's actually sh- really-" you started again, taking a moment to think over what you were going to say "I heard that epel's not that great at potions despite being under vil's careful watch...." silver's eyes widened, replying with a soft 'really?' as he looked back to the groups with newfound interest.
you to yourself "never judge a book by its cover" you shrugged, immediately turning to your work. anxiously, you waited for a response. 
although circumstances are vastly different- is this how people felt when in the talking stage? if so it was a dreadful experience. 
before your pessimistic thoughts could even start, silver responded with a chuckle, enviably agreeing with your statement. you could almost sweat with relief as an invisible weight got lifted from your shoulders.
silver seems nice...
a new voice, meek and unsteady although louder than the usual pessestimic ones in control. and for once, you allowed yourself to feel the slight comfortable tingle it gave you.
the hope and drive to that you haven't felt or experienced in a while.
you wished to get closer to him.
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taglist : @abell2029cluster @a1-ic3 @ars-tral @xingyunny @creamsweets @skei2p @dn4su @jjsmeowthie @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @nefe-kav @d3sperate-enuf @y2unagiz @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @mel-star636 @7yu @lucky-whispers
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scoonsalicious · 3 days
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Unwanted: Chapter 28, Unwanted - Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, violence, death
Word Count: 861
Previously On...: You're boyfriend's back and Jade's gonna be in trouble. Hey na, hey na...
A/N: THREE MORE CHAPTERS LEFT OMG HOW DID WE GET HERE?!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
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Jade was dragging you through the hallways of the base by your hair as she frantically searched for an exit that would keep her out of Bucky’s reach. At first, you tried to keep track of the path you took, making note of turns and counting doorways as you were pulled down long corridors in case the opportunity to escape presented itself and you had to retrace your steps, but the route was so convoluted, and your head so battered, that you quickly lost track of where you were going, and any sense of direction you’d been able to hold onto. 
“I need eyes,” Jade said, more to herself than to you, and soon she was shifting directions. Within moments, she was throwing open a metal door that appeared to lead to a security center. Tossing you unceremoniously inside, she bolted the door behind her and heaved a heavy breath.
“What’s the matter?” you asked, your tone dangerously mocking. “If he loves you as much as you think he does, you shouldn’t have any reason to run from him.”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Jade chanted. She moved over to the row of security monitors and began quickly cycling through the screens. “Gotta find an exit,” she murmured to herself. “There has to be a way out where he won’t see.”
You took the opportunity her distraction provided to study the rest of the monitors, hoping to find some subtle way to contact Bucky, to let him know where you were or, at the very least, to try and find an escape route of your own. 
“How did he know where to find you?” Jade muttered as she continued to flip through the feeds.
You opted not to answer; you’d be a fucking idiot to reveal your distress bangle now. If you could keep it a secret from Jade, you’d ensure that Bucky would have the ability to find you, no matter where she ended up taking you. It would also let him know you were still alive.
You scanned the rest of the monitors, instead, and were shocked by what you saw: Room after room was littered in corpses; bloody, mangled, bodies where there had once been Hydra agents. Your eyes landed on a monitor in the far left corner of the room, and you saw him. Bucky was covered head to toe in the blood of his enemies, dual guns raised in the air as he opened fire on anyone who stood in his way. Though you couldn’t hear the words coming from his mouth, you could read his lips well enough to know he was screaming your name, searching for you as he tore through the facility, slaughtering every Hydra operative that crossed his path.
You had never seen him so enraged before. Yes, you knew that, as the Winter Soldier, he’d been capable of immense violence– you’d seen video footage of him in action, after all, but this? This was so much worse than that. Because Soldat complied. And Bucky Barnes? He was out for blood.*
You should have been frightened by the blatant display of absolute brutality, should have been repulsed by it. But instead, it excited you. It thrilled you, because you knew that he was doing this for you. To get you back, to keep you safe. He was willing to damn his soul to hell to protect you when you needed him. You should have been disgusted, but you’d never been more turned on by him in your life.
“Gotcha!” Jade exclaimed, drawing your attention back to her. She’d stopped her cycling through the security feeds on a non-descript door that, so far, seemed to have been spared from the ongoing carnage. Moving to a locker beside the desk, Jade reached inside and pulled out a handgun and several clips of ammo, tucking them snuggly into her belt.
“Come on,” she said, reaching out and grabbing your hair once more. “You’re my human shield for getting out of here.” She dragged you back out of the security station and into the hallway, looking both ways before turning left and sprinting down the corridor. It was all you could do to keep up; you had no doubt that if you faltered, she’d drag you across the floor behind her without a second thought. 
In minutes, you were at the door you’d seen in the feed. Jade let go of your hair and trained her gun on your head. “Open it,” she commanded. 
You winced in pain as you yanked on the door with your right hand, the left dangling limply and uselessly at your side. “Hurry up!” Jade shouted at you.
“I’m trying,” you grunted as you pulled. “The door’s fucking heavy, and in case you forgot, I’m down an arm because of you.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jade grumbled, reaching around you to yank the door open, herself. “Do I have to do fucking everything around here?” She jabbed the barrel of her gun into your back. “Go,” she urged.
You stepped into the darkness of the open tunnel and, doing your best not to stumble or jostle your ruined arm, began to walk.
<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->
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gatorbites-imagines · 20 hours
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Hii! Hope you’re having a great day :D
I was thinking about Law with a tall male reader who looks very intimidating. everyone thinks that he is the top in the relationship but Law is the one who actually tops/? Like his s/o looks like a top but is actually a pillow princess. ;)
You can take this as a request or not if you want :3
Trafalgar D. Water Law x Tall male reader
Headcanons
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Guten Abend everyone, still getting dragged over the studying coals, but fuck it we ball.
No outright smut in this one, mainly just focusing on their relationship since im exhausted, but I hope its still enjoyable.
In the One Piece universe, being tall can mean a lot of things. Being taller than Law just means you have to be somewhere over 6 ft 5, or taller, if that’s what you prefer. Being intimidating isn’t too hard either, especially if you are a fellow pirate.
Seeing you two together can be a little off-putting to the people around you, at least the ones that aren’t part of your crew, who know you two on a more personal level.
No one would dare to make assumptions in the beginning of a meeting, since Law already has quite the reputation, and either your scary aura or your own dangerous reputation makes people shut up. They might have ideas to themselves, but they wouldn’t verbalize it.
It probably comes up during an afterparty of some kind, after you guys have defeated the baddie of the week and you’re all kicking back. Since Law isn’t a big fan of drinking, you would end up being the one getting tipsy out of the two of you.
At some point during the night, Kidd or others who are more comfortable with you two, would start making jabs or ask questions, as one does when you get wasted. It becomes clear pretty damn quick though, that everyone thinks that Law is the one who bottoms.
Law isn’t the type to out your guy’s bedroom life, but I could still imagine him asking, in a bit of a tense tone, why they think that. That’s when you guys get the explanation from your allies and friends. But it all boils down to you being taller, bigger, scarier and with a stronger presence. So, it just made sense to them.
It gets a bit of a laugh from you, and you can tell from the tension in Laws jaw that it gets on his nerves, maybe even hurting his ego a little. But you also know your lover wouldn’t verbalize those thoughts, not wanting to admit something like an assumption of his bedroom role would hit him in any way.
When you guys get back to the polar tang, one would assume Law would drag you off to the bedroom to show you and him that your friends and allies’ assumptions were wrong. But Law is also a doctor, so he wouldn’t want to do such a thing when you’re drunk.
Instead, he gets some water in you, gets you something to eat, helps you get washed down if that’s what you need, and then the two of you conk out in bed, Law the big spoon even if you are taller. Hes like your tattooed backpack, if the height difference is big enough.
Law doesn’t end up making a move on you in the morning either if you suffer from hangovers, instead your lover would make sure you were alright, and get you something for the hangover if its bad enough. His ego may have been wounded a little, but he’s a respectful guy, especially to you as his lover.
That evening, or the day after though, you’re all his, not that you mind though. Seeing as all your crewmates are most likely still out partying or suffering from hangovers, you two have the polar tang all to yourself.
As you enjoy laying back and receiving pleasure without doing much in return, Law gets to do most of the work. He doesn’t need the same in return, as giving you pleasure is satisfying for him. Being in charge would feel quite nice for him, as it allows him to have an eye on the entire situation and what’s going on.
Law would definitely also use his devil fruit power when you guys are together, since it would make it easier for the both of you, and with his devil fruit he’s able to reach parts of you no one else can.
In the end, people you meet, and probably most of your friends and allies, think you are the top still, but Law wouldn’t mind too much after you show him that you don’t think lesser of him or let other people’s assumptions bother you or your relationship.
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7ndipity · 15 hours
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Mornings/Evenings With Jimin
Jimin x Reader
Summary: just some headcanons and a lil blurb about morning/evening moments w Jimin
Warnings, lil suggestive, not proofread
A/N: Thanks to my lovely Star anon who requested this! It's a lil random, but I hope you'll still like it!
Masterlist
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Mornings with Jimin tend to actually start more in the afternoon, due to his slanted sleep schedule, but they’re still cozy nonetheless.
He’s very slow to wake, burying his face in your back or neck as he clings to sleep for just a little longer.
“Five more minutes.” “You said that fifteen minutes ago.” “I mean it this time.”
Once you get up, he usually follows suit, albeit reluctantly.
He’s basically your shadow for the first little bit, trailing after you to the kitchen to help make breakfast(though he mostly just clings to you and steals part of your coffee)
Most days, when things are more rushed and you’re both just trying to get out the door on time, he makes a point to stop for a few seconds, pulling you to follow suit if he has to, meeting your eyes for a moment before giving you a sweet kiss.
It’s a little thing, but sometimes those ten seconds are the only moments you get to have together during the day, and so he makes sure to never miss them.
Evenings are much slower and quieter, again partly due to how late his schedules tend to be.
A lot of nights, you’re already in bed by the time he gets home, and so he quietly runs through his evening routine before slipping under the covers with you.
On the nights when you’re both still awake and able to spend more time together make him so happy, even if it’s just getting ready for bed together. He loves those quiet little moments with you.
Sleepily brushing your teeth together, him leaning against you when he feels extra tired.
He’s said before that it takes him a while to fall asleep, so I see him really enjoying just laying in bed talking about the day's events with you. Words just flow a lot easier when he’s buried in the pillows with you.
Tbh, his bed is one of his favorite places. He loves any excuse for you to just lay together, talking about anything and everything, without having to worry about work or schedules, just you and him being your most true, relaxed selves.
At the end of the day, nothing else matters to him, so long as he gets to fall asleep next to you.
Jimin nuzzled in close to you as he climbed into bed as quietly as possible, his hands creeping along your curves.
It was well past midnight, the room dimly lit by the bedside lamp you’d left on before falling asleep.
“Y/n.” He whispered, his breath brushing over the exposed skin of your neck, raising goosebumps.
“Chim, quit it, ‘m tired.” You mumbled sleepily, trying feebly to shake his hands off.
“I’m not trying to start anything, Angel, ” He promised, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “I just need my goodnight kiss before I go to sleep.”
If your eyes had been open, you might have rolled them at him. You played along though, rolling over so he could reach your lips more easily, feeling his arms instantly wrap around you tightly.
He quickly connected his mouth to yours, swallowing your quiet squeak of surprise at his intensity, his lips moving slowly but firmly against yours.
You shivered as he slipped one hand beneath the fabric of your pajama top, the cool contrast of his fingers causing goosebumps to raise on your warm skin, the other coming to cradle the back of your head, drawing you closer.
All too soon, he pulled away, staring down at you with dark eyes.
“Better?” You asked, slightly breathless.
“Mmh, thank you.” He hummed, pecking your lips a few more times.
You were acutely aware of his hands still on you, his fingers digging into your side, causing you to squirm slightly beneath him, earning a questioning look from him.
“I thought you said you were tired?” He asked, giving you a knowing smirk.
���Things change.” You replied, pulling him back down to you.
He chuckled against your lips, kissing you for another long moment, before pulling back again.
“It’s late, you need sleep.” He said softly, shifting the two of you to rest more comfortably, pulling you to rest against his chest.
“Tease.” You grumbled, furthering his amusement.
“Love you too.”
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard
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da-proti-toku-grem · 7 hours
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17 Jance mayhaps (if you already did it I'm sorry, I love ur style and reading your prompts!!)
Thank you so much 🥰. I think I've officially lost the battle with my “I'm keeping these short” thoughts because this is almost 1.8k oops 😅.
As always, ao3 link at the bottom if you prefer to read it there <3
(Rating: Mature)
Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss
17. … to distract.
“Please, Nacko,” Jan begged from his place on the couch.
Knowing that they had an interview the next morning, Nace had offered Jan to stay at his house. After all, it was no secret that the guitarist was by no means a morning person and, being the one who lived closest to where the interview would take place, it seemed only reasonable to offer him a place to sleep without the need to drive from Vrhnika to Ljubljana in the early morning.
And maybe – and just maybe – something inside his chest was also tickling under the pretext of seeing Jan's gorgeous face when Nace inevitably woke up before him, his features relaxed and his hair tousled. No one needed to know that, though. He was more than willing to take the secret to his grave. It wasn't like someone like Jan would ever look at him that way, anyways.
Once they arrived at the apartment, Nace offered Jan a glass of wine. The bassist himself didn't drink anymore, but he liked to always have something to offer to his guests – in this case, a bottle of red wine.
And that's how they had gotten to this situation, Jan sitting cross-legged on the couch, an empty glass on the small table in front of him and looking up in the direction of Nace, who was standing on the other side of the table, with his pajamas already on and holding the bottle in his hand.
“I've already told you, Jan,” he said, a hint of tiredness in his voice. “You know that on any other occasion I wouldn't mind you drinking more, but we have an interview tomorrow and we can't risk you having a raging hangover because you drank the whole bottle of wine by yourself.”
“...Please?” Jan asked again, pouting and looking up at him with those beautiful dark puppy eyes that had no right to be so adorable. That, combined with the fact that his improvised pajamas were his boxer shorts and one of Nace's old t-shirts that was definitely too big on him – the length reaching almost halfway down his thighs and the collar being so wide that it left one of his shoulders exposed, as well as a bit of his chest hair – was definitely not helping Nace keep his thoughts pure.
He thought about how his hands would feel exploring the skin under the t-shirt or pulling on those gorgeous black locks, how he'd look up at him with his big brown eyes just like that while Nace fucked his mouth, taking it all like the good boy he knew he could be; how he’d love to kiss and bite and mark that exposed skin on his shoulder and neck until everyone knew who he belonged to, how he'd beg even prettier for Nace to touch him, to make him feel good; how he'd look all sweaty and ruined with his head thrown back, moaning Nace's name at the peak of his pleasure as he pounded into that sweet spot inside him over and over and-
Nace really needed to stop his train of thoughts right there before this ended in a terribly embarrassing situation.
“I'm sorry, okay?” He smiled at him apologetically, setting the bottle down on the table as he took a seat on the other side of the couch, hoping the other didn't notice the slight blush he felt creeping up his cheeks. “I know you probably don't want to go to sleep yet so… anything else you want to-”
The question died on the bassist's lips as he suddenly felt Jan straddle his thighs, resting his hands gently on his chest.
Nace simply remained still, his body a bit tense and his eyes wide open in surprise. He still didn't look at the guitarist's face, a million questions running through his mind when all of a sudden the weight of the younger man in his lap and the burning touch of his hands on his chest clouded his senses.
Eventually, he dared to look up, finding Jan's eyes, those eyes that made Nace's knees go weak and that accompanied him in his most sinful fantasies, looking back at him with that smirk he always had plastered on his face when he had an idea. He knew exactly what he was doing and Nace had fallen right into his trap.
“Hello there, Mr. Jordan,” Jan said, his deep voice reverberating in Nace's brain, as his hands went up to cup his cheeks.
He didn't respond, his own hands moving to Jan's thighs, over his t-shirt, while his eyes were flicking from the other's eyes to his lips and then up again and oh how much he'd like to send it all to hell and close the distance between them and-
Before he knew it, Jan's lips were on his.
Nace didn't move his hands, the uncertainty of not knowing how far Jan was willing to take this surpassing the urge to touch every single part of the other's body; but he started to reciprocate the kiss, taking everything Jan had to give him and trying to burn it into his memory, almost as if he was afraid that it was all a dream product of his treacherous imagination and he might wake up at any moment.
Their lips moved slowly against each other, his mouth opening in a silent invitation that Jan didn't hesitate to take, tongues dancing together in a rhythm known only to them.
Everything was so sultry, so sensual, so… Jan. It was intoxicating. And Nace didn't think he would ever get enough of this.
All too soon, the guitarist broke the kiss, pulling away completely and taking his place back on the couch. Nace immediately missed the warmth of his body pressing against his own.
“W-what was that for?” he asked after a few seconds, trying to sound nonchalant despite the deep blush he felt covering his face.
“Nothing,” Jan shrugged. “Can't I just kiss my really hot friend?”
At that, Nace looked up, meeting that mischievous grin before his gaze finally fell on the bottle that had somehow ended up in Jan's hands. Little shit.
“Oh hell no, come here,” he tugged at his arm and in one swift motion took the bottle from him, setting it safely on the table, and took him back into his lap, making him let out a surprised gasp.
“Well, I guess this will do too,” Jan smirked, moving his arms up to wrap them around Nace's neck, tangling his hands in the soft curls at the nape of his neck and drawing him into another kiss.
Nace didn't hold back this time, all the blood he had been trying to suppress from traveling south now rushed to his cock as his hands began to caress the body of the man on top of him.
The touch of his cold hands against the warm skin of his thighs sent a shiver down Jan's spine. Nace's hands traveled up his thighs, slowly slipping under his shirt until they reached his waist, grabbing it and moving his body so they could start grinding against each other.
Deep groans escaped their mouths the moment both of their already half-hard dicks brushed against each other, making them break the kiss, their foreheads pressed against one another as they breathed heavily into each other's mouths.
Without halting his movements, Nace leaned close to his ear and whispered: “Did you just want to distract me so you could get another glass or are you just a horny little slut, baby?”, catching the lobe between his teeth to emphasize his words before starting a trail of open-mouthed kisses and little nibbles along his jaw and neck.
The sound the younger man let out and the way Jan's hips jerked forward of their own accord, beginning to grind down more desperately, told Nace everything he needed to know.
It was still fun to tease him, though.
“I need words, honey. Or do you want me to stop?” he said teasingly. As if you'd be able to stop now that you finally have what you've been dreaming about for so long, the rational part of his brain told him.
“Please don’t stop.” Jan whined. “F-fuck, God knows how long I've been waiting for this.”
That sound, that plea, the meaning those words entailed all sent an electric jolt straight to Nace's cock. He sounded so beautifully desperate and– God. Jan Peteh was going to be the death of him.
“Oh yeah? Do I make you hard, baby?” he punctuated his words with a particularly hard thrust of his hips.
“So damn much, you have no idea. Fuck, have you seen yourself?”
Jan buried his face in Nace's neck, exploring his skin with his lips and teeth, careful not to leave marks in a place that would be visible during the interview and paying special attention to discover the bassist's most sensitive spots. Nace tilted his head to the side to grant him more access.
Neither of them could stop the soft little noises escaping their mouths, getting increasingly louder as Nace's hands started to roam all over the younger's back. They came to a stop at his ass, cupping Jan's cheeks over his boxers and pulling him even closer.
The increased pressure on his crotch caused the guitarist to pull away from Nace's neck, throwing his head back and exposing his throat as a sinful moan escaped his lips. It was probably the most erotic thing Nace had ever seen in his entire life.
However, as heavenly as the dry humping felt, Nace wanted – needed – more. He needed to feel skin on skin with the man that had been occupying his every thought ever since he officially joined the band.
He slowly licked a strip up his deliciously exposed throat, a smug smile spreading across his face at the shudder that ran through Jan's body.
“Shall we take this to the bedroom, kitten?” he asked, his deep voice accompanied with a little squeeze on his ass making Jan blush furiously.
Instead of answering, Jan smashed their lips together in a hungry, passionate kiss.
Nace took that as a yes, placing his hands under Jan's thighs and lifting them both off the couch to start the short walk to his room, grinning into the kiss when he felt Jan's dick twitch at the casual demonstration of strength as he wrapped his legs around his waist.
As he closed the bedroom door and threw a very flushed and now fully hard Jan unceremoniously on his bed, Nace made a mental note to treat him to all the red wine he wished for the days to come.
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avocadorablepirate · 2 days
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What Do We Call This? - 06
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Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader
Summary: On a quest to find what you've been looking for, you acquire the help of the Straw Hat pirates, who've agreed to let you temporarily join them. There are however many challenges that come along with your temporary recruitment - an alliance with a certain Trafalgar Law being one of them.
Word Count: 1.4K
Warnings: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn, swearing, the occasional OP spoiler
A/N: Protective Law reporting for duty. I didn't want to delve too much into the Zou arc so this is just Law being protective at various points in the arc. Also, can I just say, Zou Law is my favourite Law cause gawd dammit he looked so hot in that black button down shirt, you know the one....anyway, I hope you like it!
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Despite initially finding your newly acquired bounty amusing, it had made Law hyper-aware of your every move. While bounties would usually imply that you were more than capable of holding your ground in battle, to Law it signified a potential recklessness - a reason for you to test the limits of your powers to a dangerous extent, which only meant you could cause more harm to yourself than you had in the past. And whether it was the sudden soft spot he harboured for you or the fact that you had mentioned Corazon twice, indicating your familiarity - that intrigued him, Law felt protective.
This protective instinct first manifested when you were approaching Zou, or rather it was the first time Law had come to realise this need to protect you. He had watched as you emerged from one of the cabins and sat alone on the deck, a frown etched on your face. Prior to the incident at Dressrosa, he would have disregarded your demeanour, but now felt that his dynamic with you had shifted, and it was only right to show concern.
"Everything okay?" he inquired as he took the seat beside you, and the faint smile that you gave him, told him all that he needed to know.
"Who were you healing?" His eyes searched you for any fresh wounds, though you had done well to conceal your bruises with a long sleeved top and a pair of loose cargo pants, not to mention the bandages that you were already covered with.
"Some of Bartolomeo's crew had a few minor injuries, nothing to worry about," you reassured him with another smile, touched by his concern.
"Don't overwork yourself," he advised as he made himself comfortable beside you. If you attempted to heal anyone again, at least this time he could intervene.
The next time Law felt his protective instincts surge was when it came to climbing to the top of the elephant on whose back rested the island Zou, where his crew had been waiting for him. The pink dragon that Kanjuro had conjured up made Law feel uneasy. Regardless of the fact that he found your gushing over the dragon endearing, he couldn't imagine a single scenario in which a terribly drawn dragon would reach all of you to the top. However, there weren't any other options, and Luffy's excitement, plus your words of encouragement to the little dragon had everyone piling on top of him, with Law quick to take the place behind you.
The climb was going smoothly until Law noticed your body sway as if on the verge of unconsciousness. His arm instinctively encircled your waist, providing support as you fell against him. "What's wrong?" The tension in his voice was clear, and as he watched you struggle to stay awake he grabbed at your wrist to check your pulse.
"Using her powers on Bartolomeo's crew members must be making her drowsy. She should be awake by the time we reach the summit," Robin answered on your behalf, and Law couldn't help but click his tongue in frustration as you slumped further into his embrace, his hold on you tightening. He couldn't blame anyone for not knowing the repercussions of your powers, but the frustration grew within him towards everyone who had made you use those damn powers.
As Robin had said, you awoke just as the summit came into view. Law felt a sense of relief wash over him as you stirred in his arms, and with a gentle squeeze to your side grabbed your attention.
On feeling Law's presence behind you, you sat up straight and mumbled an apology as you fumbled to break away from his grasp, but he wouldn't let go, instead leaning closer to you, "I told you not to overexert yourself," he chided, and you rolled your eyes in response, missing his irate tone.
"This was before, and it really was nothing. I'm all good now." Despite your assurance, Law remained unconvinced. Once again silently vowing to protect you from any harm, especially in your endeavours to heal others.
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Law remained glued to your side as you ventured further into Zou and took to examining what remained of the Minks' residence. Earlier, he had let his guard down and you were nearly electrocuted by a Minks; luckily Zoro had stepped in before she could get a hold of you. Now he watched over you carefully, his sharp gaze scanning the surroundings for any potential dangers.
"This looks like it was used to inflict torture." Law eyed you with concern when the words you spoke were accompanied with a tremor as you took in the remnants of the wooden cross that had been stuck to the ground, worry settling in the pit of your stomach. From a little further ahead Usopp yelled something about a huge drop of water, and from where you were crouched on the ground inspecting the wreckage you strained your neck to see what had cast a huge shadow onto the ground.
"We need to get to higher ground!" You heard Robin instruct through the sudden chaos. Before you could even comprehend what you were looking at, Law's hand closed around your arm, a tinge of annoyance in the sigh he let out as he transported everyone to the top of a building that hadn't been destroyed in the earlier conflict.
As you caught your breath, your heart racing from the sudden teleportation, you looked around, taking in the view from the elevated point. The destruction that spread out before you was a clear sign of the chaos that had engulfed the country, and once again a feeling of dread settled over you. You tried to peak your head over the edge of the building, curiosity getting the best of you as you attempted to catch a glimpse of the water from above flood the city. But Law's grip on your arm remained firm, holding you back from leaning any further. Fate seemed determined to test his resolve to protect you.
"Stay back, we don't know when these buildings could collapse," his voice was authoritative yet imbued with concern as he pulled you away from the edge, and you couldn't help but throw him a glare. At first his concern for your well-being had been endearing, but now it almost felt suffocating; his overprotectiveness acting as a sign that he didn't think you could handle yourself.
"I can take care of myself, you know," you muttered under your breath.
"I'd rather not take any chances," he didn't miss the irritation in your tone, countering it with his own stern response. Before you could retort, Usopp's voice cut through the almost rising tension, alerting all of you that he had spotted Luffy.
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Even when Law had to momentarily separate from the group to reunite with his crew, he was reluctant to leave your side. He would claim that he would go look for them, but then wouldn't move an inch, instead his eyes fixating on you in a silent plea for you to say that you would join him. Though that was far from what you wanted. You were looking forward to reuniting with the other Straw Hats for a short banquet, and if anything craved to get away from Law's protectiveness.
Just when he had had enough of the indirect approach, and was on the verge of suggesting that you come along with him, you spoke up, seizing the opportunity to get away, "Law your crew's probably waiting for you, we'll catch up with you later." You locked arms with Nami and Robin and pulled them away before he could even get a word in.
Law, ever perceptive, knew you were trying to keep your distance, and it was starting to bug him how good you were at it. Upon returning with his crew, his interactions with you were short-lived; you would either swiftly engage in conversation with someone else, or make a quick exit the second he took his eyes off you. Your avoidance made it clear to Law that you would be more inclined to go with Luffy to Whole Cake Island, whether it was to retrieve Sanji, or evade him. Nevertheless, Law remained determined to keep you by his side. As discussions about the division of the group for the missions to Whole Cake Island and Wano arose, he was quick to suggest that you accompany him.
"Why?" you asked, your curiosity sparked by his unwavering insistence, and for a fleeting second you thought you saw a flicker of hesitation before he composed himself, "I need your assistance." His cryptic response didn't give you the explanation you were looking for, it was however, compelling, and you found yourself willingly agreeing to accompany him nonetheless.
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A/N: Wanted to include the whole ninja scene but thought I would only ruin it XD. Next chapter is the one that I wrote well in advance (⁠ノ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ノ we've made it this far y'all ᕙ⁠(͡⁠°⁠‿⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)⁠ᕗ.
taglist: @trafalgardaria @deathsmajestysworld
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ysrjune · 12 hours
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(i feel like i need to let you guys know that I HAVE to listen to the song on repeat 4 a few times to really get me going for this fic 😔)
also i know the ending kinda sucks Im SORRY
Into You ✦
Sam had texted you to dress nicely since he was taking you to a nice restaurant. It's so sweet of him to do this even though you forced him out of your life for 6 years.
Luckily, you had packed a few nice dresses in case something special came up. This was definitely something special. The color of the dress was plain but had a cute pattern all over it. You did your hair in whatever way you thought looked the best and added a few other details like rings, earrings, and a necklace after finishing your makeup.
To top it all off, you sprayed your favorite perfume, and you were done getting ready. You had a couple of minutes to wait until Sam came by to pick you up. You spent that short amount of time talking pictures and becoming a little nervous about how this is gonna go.
Your mom came knocking at your door, smiling. “He’s here,” She entered, admiring how beautiful her little girl looked. “You look so gorgeous, my love.” A tear nearly fell from her eye. You smile softly to her and give her a gentle hug. “Thank you, mom. I'll see you later.”
You went outside to find Sam with a bouquet of flowers. “Looks like someone really outdid herself on the whole look, huh?” He huffed a chuckle, totally checking you out. “You're the one who told me to dress nice.” You say with a twirl while walking over to him so he could see the whole outfit.
“Well, you listened.” Sam smiled down at you and passed over the flowers. “Oh, Sam. I love th—”, “ah-ah. they're for your mom.” He cut you off, making you look to the side, then back to him with confusion. “Um, what?” You asked before he shook his head with a laugh. “Just messin’ with you, n/n.” Oh, so you leave for a few years and all of a sudden he thinks hes a comedian..
“Come on, let's go.” He reached his arm around you, leading to his car. This is so weird.. Sam has never been the type to be so touchy, talkative, or confident. He really was like a new person.
The car ride was anything but quiet and awkward. He started all the conversations, as well as kept them going. “A year after you left, I realized how big of a loser I was. Weird, too.” He cringed at the memory of how he used to be. “I was so pale, too. I genuinely looked so unwell. So, I decided to go out more to get tanned.”
He had worked in construction for a while so he could have more color to his skin, and it worked really well. He also told you about how he started working out to not be scrawny. The brown hair with blondish tints was actually because he didn't like the black and blue anymore. Eye makeup? How child like.
Listening to the reasons why he changed was different than you expected. Way different.
Dinner went well. You told him about your studies and life after graduating. Sam made sure to pay attention at all times. You also learned that your cousin wasn't lying about so many girls liking him. “I went out with a few, had sex with one, and regretted it. They didn't like me for who I am. They just liked me cause I stopped being so emo.” He laughed at it.
“Did you like them for who they were?” He rolled his eyes at your question. “Well, duh. I don't go out with girls just cause they're cute. All those girls I dated, I got to really know before, and it's not like I went out with all the ones who wanted me.” He sips his drink, “Some of them were skanks, and I didn't wanna catch anything. And some of them were just.. not good at all, yknow? Cant believe some girls think being rude is flirting.”
“Did you start looking more for personality than looks after Alyssa?” You crack a joke, hoping that he doesn't take it the wrong way. “Yep. Most definitely.” He replied with that charming smile.
Dinner was mostly catching up. After paying, he took you to his house. Lets just say one thing led to another, and you were arguing about how you just up and left like that.
“You promised! You promised that you'd call and visit, but you lied! If you wanted me to disappear from your life, you could have fucking said that!” He sort of shouted. “Sam, I didn't want to erase you from my life. I just wanted to live a little!”
“That doesn't make any sense. You probably just didn't care about me anymore after meeting new people. Look, its fucked up, but you can say it if you want. After all, it shouldn't matter anymore cause you're here now, right?” He says sarcastically.
“I waited for you to call me for 6 years! almost a whols decade, y/n!” He crossed his arms. “I don't know if it ever occurred to you that the phone works both ways, Sam.” You yell at him.
“No, dont pull that shit on me because I did call. I tried, but you know what? You changed your god damn number.” He sounded so mad and frustrated. “Do not play with me right now. Just say it already.”
“Okay! I stopped caring! Im sorry, Sam. That was stupid of me. I was like, your only friend. I know!” You replied and put yourself on his arms for a hug. As much as he wanted to push away, he wasnt like that. At least he wasn't gonna be like that after you apologized.
he sighed, arms wrapping around you and chin resting on your shoulder. “I know you're sorry. At least you're here now.” His big hands slide up and down your back. “Missed you so much.”
You sniffled into his chest and mumbled out the same. “Let me tell you something.” He says and sits you on the couch. “If I wasn't in love with you, I wouldn't have cared thaf you left. I was so used to people leaving already, so it wouldn't have mattered. but you had me so head over heels. that's the biggest reason I was mad.”
You sort of knew he had a little crush on you, but in love? “You're lying.” He shook his head. “Why would I lie?” Fuck, thats true. “To get back at me, maybe.” You sigh. “Sam, im gonna be honest, I never had a whole crush on you, but I did think about us being a couple sometimes. When you were with Alyssa, I was thinking about how I could treat you so much better.”
“Then why didn't you? I would have said yes. Didn't you realize how often I'd rather spend time with you than her? I wanted it to be you.” He spoke softly, tangling yours and his fingers together. “I've never gotten over you. I look for you in every girl I go out with. Whether it's personality or if she has the slightest resemblance..”
Okay, Sam.. what the fuck. but also, aw! “That's.. kind of weird, but sweet in a way.” You say with a giggle. “Yeah, I guess.” Sam shrugged, accidentally looking down at your boobs. “Um, sorry.” He looked away and blushed.
No matter how much he changed, he was never gonna fully get rid of that shy guy in him. “It's okay.” You laughed at him and decided to stroke his cheek with your hand. “You've always been so cute when you blush.”
“Yeah, okay.” He says in a deepened, sarcastic voice and rolls his eyes. “Its just. blushing. Nothing about that should be amusing.” , “But it is!” Your hand went to mess with his curly hair.
“You look really good with long hair, too.” You keep complimenting him on his appearance until he rushed in for a kiss. His hands went to your hips, rubbing up and down until they got a little more nosy and rubbed your thighs, making you shiver.
“Sam, what are you doing..” You mumbled against his lips. “I couldn't hold back anymore. I needed to do something.” He mumbled back and pecked your lips one more time before shifting to your neck. “Sam, what if someone sees—” That made him smile against you. “Silly, no one's gonna see. I live alone.”
One thing led to another, and now he had two fingers in you on his bed. So much happened too fast. You couldn't remember what even led to this. “Sam, faster, please.” You whimper, holding onto his forearm. “Why, you don't like me going slow? Don't like when I'm being nice?” He whispered into your ear, speeding up the pace just a little bit.
“No, I—,” What were you supposed to say? You were already at a loss of words, getting so stimulated by his long fingers. “Can't say anything else, baby?” He smirked and shook his head. “It's okay. Just let me make you feel good.” He removed his fingers and put them on his mouth, sucking off all the cum you left.
He let his cock free from his boxers and slid it on between your folds, causing a moan to leave your mouth. “You like that?” He questioned, not expecting you to react like that. You nod your head at Sam, letting your hand find its way to his cock and inserting it into you for him.
Sam let a breathy moan escape him as you did this. “Shit, you couldn't wait?” He grips your hips, swallowing. “So tight. It's better than I ever imagined.” He groaned, moving in and out slowly. “Can I go faster, please? pleasepleaseplease.” Every plead was said with every thrust.
You nod your head, keeping your eyes on his face. He looked so good in the dim light. All sweaty, eyebrows knitted together. “Sam, ‘m gonna cum.” you scratch at his back. “yeah? so do it then. cum all over my cock, s’okay, pretty.” his cock went deeper inside you.
just a couple more thursts, and it was over for you. He edged himself for a little while so he could make you finish 2 more times before he slid in between your folds and came all over them. the way he would only whimper when be was close was so cute.
He stayed lying on your chest for a short while as you twirled his locks in your fingers. “Please dont leave. I can't lose you again.” Was he asking you to move all the way back here again? The first thought that came to your mind was yes, but then you went deeper into thought, thinking about your friends back over where you lived now.
“I'll..” You pause, looking at him. Look at you with his pretty eyes. “stay.”
Great.
Timeskipping to a year later, he asked you to be his official girlfriend and to move in with him. And of course you said yes! Life with Sam Monroe is perfect. Hes so sweet and gentle all the time, even when hes upset. Hes all you could ever ask for in a boyfriend.
tags: @heartsforanakin @sockiess @radiantvader @anakinstwinklebunny @lunalitva @lvrfay3 @froggyfrip @geckoomoria @espinathena-17 @demieyesore @your-arm-is-minty-fresh @gallerygourmet @haydensprettyprincess 🎀
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mermaidchan05 · 23 hours
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Vesuvia Weekly: Smiles that Grew Rarer
Thinking about Asra’s relieved smile. The little glimmer of sunlight after the dark, a brief respite after waking up from a nightmare, a tiny laugh after a spell went wrong and frightened everyone, the teary-eyed smile when he found his apprentice was safe. Thinking about the way that relieved smile might still peek in every once in a while. But now he knows how strong his apprentice is. Now he can show all the other smiles he kept secret before: smiles of pride, of gratitude, of love. Thinking about how his relief has faded to a constant, comfortable feel of hope and peace.
Thinking about Julian’s theatrical, sinister smile. The sneer carefully created to shout: I am the villain of this story. The expression he used whenever he needed to, which became far too often far too quickly. Thinking about how he doesn’t need to play the bad guy anymore… not unless he wants to. Thinking about how nice of a change it is for Julian, to be a hero to those who love him.
Thinking about Nadia’s tightest, falsest smiles. The smile she gave whenever she was forced to pretend she knew exactly what was going on despite her lost memories. The smile that hid the building pressure of a headache that would have put anyone else out of commission, but that Nadia must push through. The smile that lied: “Why yes, I would love to continue this inane conversation.” Thinking of how whenever she gives a smile like that now, someone can reach for her hand, and the smile can grow more genuine. Thinking about how she doesn’t need to fake her knowledge or confidence anymore. She doesn’t need to pretend she knows what she’s doing… she knows, and she is going to show it.
Just thinking of smiles that have gotten more and more rare now… and how that’s a good thing.
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m0rninglatte · 2 days
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Monster from Epic and Icarus analysis because the thoughts do be real
“How did suffering become so endless?”
- Icarus thinking it should have been done by now, but it's not. It's still going
“Do I need to change?”
Moving on.
“I'm surrounded by the souls of those of lost”
- Icarus talking about Aurelius, Enderian, *Centross*, Momboo, etc.
- The idea of everyone who has died is a sacrifice, and they will be brought back, but also Icarus ability to not grieve properly because of it
"What if the greatest threat we'll find across the sea, is me?
- Icarus wondering if they are failing and they are going to slip up to the point everything crashes because they made one wrong move.
“What if I'm the monster? What if i'm in the wrong”
- I like to think this line as Icarus beginning to think of each reset and all the "antagonistic" acts they've done and thinking if they are and have always been a monster because they in their own eyes can't seem to do anything to help people as they just end up hurting someone.
“What if i'm the problem that’s been hiding all along”
- Icarus in “Lady of the world” talking about how corruption has always been there, how whatever they did then was always there they just pushed it back of their mind until corruption made it the forefront of their mind.
“What if i'm the one who killed you”
- Icarus debating if it was Quixis that killed Momboo or themselves.
“What if I’ve been far too kind to foes but a monster to ourselves”
- Foes = Fable, ourselves = everyone else minus the co-workers
- Although Icarus currently wants to fix everything and stay with Fable, i like to see this as Icarus debating if they are on the right side.
The Polyphemus section is Centross, mainly the Violet Reaper
“Or does he end my men, to avenge his friend”
- S1 funeral. 
-“Avenge his friend” is a line you could annotate “friend” to be Enderian
- If you wanted to, you could almost switch into "...,to serve his goddess"
The Circe section is Enderian 
"When the witch turns men to pigs, to protect her nymphs"
- Corruption of Ominus Bane
- You could see this line in my opinion as either to protect her realm or to prove her point about Overworlders and how they are the same, for example, resorting to violent outcomes
The Poseidon section is Fable
- This section is a mix of things, I can see mixes of Fable during the war and Fable currently, and Icarus is like thinking of the similarities and differences between Fable and himself.
The Odysseus section about him during the Trojan War is Icarus and the Wack
“Does a soldier use a wooden horse to kill sleeping Trojans cause he is vile”
- Icarus using the wack to kill Momboo
"Or does he throw away his remorse and save more lives with guile"
- Icarus querying if he should just throw away his regret for any actions he has done and attempt to help people through sly and cunning intelligence (literally the definition of guile)
The section after the Odysseus section is Icarus wondering if they should just become the monster to everyone else but not the co-workers and yk Fable 
“I lost my best friend, I lost my mentor, my mom, 500 men gone…”
- Best Friend is Centross.
- Mentor is a funky one because i could see it be switched into my brother, but at the same time, you could keep it as mentor and annotate it to be Quixis
- Mom is Isla -> "Like King like Prince" : Icarus finding her portrait and realising Fable hasn't told them where she is and that he can't remember her aswell as Rae
- 500 men gone = the people and gods who have died and or been husked
“I must get to see Penelope and Telemachus”
A) remove the context of the names, no wife, no son, none of that
B) This could be annotated into two different ways but i can mainly see it as Momboo and Centross and Icarus’ hope with all this they can come back
“I’ll go where Poseidon wont reach us”
- Poseidon could be annotated into Enderian, but one that I think works well is the faction, mainly Ocie.
“And if got to drop another infant from a wall in an instant so we all don't die”
- Icarus being like if i have to kill another person, fuck it, whatever it is I need to do to prove myself or help in anyway.
The end section with Odysseus choosing to become the monster I could see as Icarus state of mind of their not meant to be helping people as all they have done is hurt people, so that's what their meant to do, it's what they were ment to do from the beginning, so they will.
Thoughts and feelings go bonkers and bit of aaah and bit of RA
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hannahssimblr · 2 days
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The nights of the last gasp of study season seem as though they go on forever, and as I watch the clock on the wall of Michelle's cluttered dining room, I could swear on my life that time is slowing down. It takes an hour for five minutes to pass, while the numbers on the maths book in my hands seem to merge together into some sort of mathematical soup right in front of my eyes. 
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For some reason, with Michelle and Jen nattering history facts to one another on the other side of the table, I think about Alison and what she might be doing right now on the eve of the summer exams. Is she pulling an all-nighter too? Maybe, but not for studying. Alison hardly needed to study at all, that’s how clever she was. Even in those party frenzied days of early winter when she and I would pop a molly and stay up until dawn gurning she would still appear in class the next day and answer the teachers questions perfectly with a bored nonchalance about her while I sweated in the seat behind her, fighting a battle that I would inevitably lose to the boys toilets by the eleven o’clock break. 
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Alison won’t be studying, but maybe she’s popped a molly without me and is dancing somewhere, singing along to whatever pop song is charting right now and whipping her fiery hair about while I sit here for the eighth night in a row, making my way steadily through a packet of chocolate digestive biscuits that I foraged from the Tengu’s pantry. 
Maybe she’s even getting laid. I peer across the table at Jen and Michelle, pulling faces at one another and arguing over their bullet points for the battle of Stalingrad, and am struck with a reminder of the barren wasteland my sex life has become. It’s been months since I’ve been touched by someone who wasn’t myself and the outlook looks bleak. It’s doubtful that will change any time soon, so while there is every chance Alison is having sex literally right now, the chances for me are worse than being stuck down by a thunderbolt. 
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Debra, pokes her head through the door, “I’m off to bed now, loves, is there anything you need before I go?”
Michelle rifles through a handful of flashcards, “No, mam, we’re fine.” 
“Right well, don’t stay up too late.”
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“Uh, it’s an all-nighter. That means we’re staying up all night.”
“Well alright, Michelle, there’s no need to take that tone with me.”
“I’m not taking a tone, I'm just explaining something to you.”
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“Well I feel like you’re taking a tone, Michelle, and I don’t appreciate it, especially in front of your friend.”
“Him? He’s Jen’s friend, and by the way-”
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“Alright!” Jen interrupts, “Goodnight, Debra, we’ll see you in the morning.”
Debra steps back into the living room with a hassled, “Goodnight.”
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I glance at Michelle, who stares back at me with the same naked fury simmering in her eyes that has been there since the library, daring me to speak to her, but I couldn't be bothered to traverse that landscape. Not a hope. These days I only speak to her when strictly necessary. I turn back to my books and start pencilling out another equation. 
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As the night drags on, my eyelids become weighty as my focus slowly wavers, and Jen, in tandem, becomes lethargic in her seat, head lolling over the back of it, bleary eyes on the cornicing on the ceiling as though they hold the answers to the questions that Michelle is grilling her with. She will resign soon. I flip a page of my maths book and reach for another chocolate biscuit, only for my hand to connect with empty packaging. Did I really eat all that? Oh well, I’m still growing. 
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My voice is croaky from disuse when I speak, “You have other snacks?”
Michelle acknowledges me reluctantly, “Cupboard above the microwave.” 
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I raid her kitchen for half a packet of cheese tortillas, some penguin bars and some salted peanuts. At the back of the cupboard I spy Michelle’s precious Nutella, of which she started a war against her parents over during those fraught early days of her break up, and for some strange, vengeful moment I feel compelled to unscrew the lid and dunk my whole finger in it, lick it clean and then toss it back, hoping that by the time she notices what I have done I’ll be long gone. 
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I return and throw a penguin bar across the spread of papers to Jen, who misses and it thwacks against the wall behind her. She groans at the prospect of picking it up, shifting her body like it is composed of lead and slumping to half heartedly scoop it from the floorboards with limp fingers. “I’m sleepy,” she groans, “I can’t do this anymore.”
Michelle is stern, “You’re not sleepy, you’re fine, just have more sugar.”
“No, I am. I can’t think anymore. I feel drunk.”
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“Come on, Jenny,” I say with gentle encouragement as she hoists herself like a sack of potatoes back into the chair, “You can manage, just another hour, huh?”
“An hour? It’s already three in the morning. I can’t.”
Michelle places a hand on Jen’s, still clutching the chocolate, “We just have a few more things to get through, just to make sure we really have the best chance of good marks tomorrow, yeah?”
“And I’m, like, eighty percent through this maths stuff,” I chime in, “I want to have a look over quadratic equations and then just do a quick refresh on trig…”
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Jen looks at us as though we’ve gone insane, “Then study that stuff,” she says incredulously, “I’m not stopping you.”
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Michelle and I exchange guilty looks. 
“Why do you need me here to study? Are you afraid to be alone in the same room or something? God.”
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Jen’s eyes are sunken and heavy, her makeup smudged from where she has been rubbing them, the same way she did as a child when everything got too much for her. “If you don’t let me sleep I am going to break down crying, so either study on your own or stop studying, I don’t care.” She heaves herself from the table and staggers towards the door, “Goodnight, losers. Talk or don’t talk, I couldn’t give less of a shit,” and with a yank on the french doors she is gone. 
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And the clock ticks. 
And a page flips. 
And we don’t say a word.
Beginning // Prev // Next
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Date
This fic was inspired by a post from @/bhaalism (who has since deactivated due to harassment) about taking Astarion on a date post-game. I hope you all enjoy it, because it was a joy to write. <3
“Hey handsome,” Agnetha greeted Astarion, who was draping fabric for a dress he was making. For her. After all, poor dear lost nearly her entire wardrobe when her house was turned into rubble. “I have something I’d like to ask you.”
Oooooooh. He waggled his eyebrows, earning him a laugh. “Ask away! I’m all pointy ears, my love!”
She moved to hug him from behind, her long arms wrapping around his shoulders. She kissed his cheek before whispering conspiratorially, “Would you like to go on a date with me? A proper date?” She kissed his cheek again. “Please?”
A date.
A proper date.
A proper date with my darling girl.
He spun around quickly and kissed her soundly. When he tugged on her bottom lip, he squealed. “Oohoho yes! When? What time? Obviously at night I’m guessing…oh, and where? We must dress impeccably no matter what—”
“Astarion, you mad man!” She wrinkled her nose and giggled. It’s the cutest thing she does, and frankly, there’s a lot she does that is very cute. “All I’ll say is that it’s a place we’re familiar with, yes at night obviously, and tomorrow after sunset.” She booped his nose and turned, walking towards their suite door. “Now, I need to take Horace for a walk. See you soon, love.”
He stood at the mannequin dumbfounded.
A proper date with my darling girl tomorrow.
WHAT AM I GOING TO WEAR?!?!? WHAT IS SHE GOING TO WEAR?!?!?
***
Astarion agonized over what he and Agnetha should wear.
The agony!
And after watching him for hours lay out outfits and then put them back with the shake of his head and a tutting sound, she explained that their date would be on the rooftop of the Elfsong Tavern. “We have it to ourselves all night.” She rubbed her temples. “So please stop worrying about what to wear.”
The ecstasy!
Now that I know…I’VE GOT IT!
He thought that choosing their ensembles would help him relax.
He thought wrong.
I wonder what Agi has planned. If we have the entire rooftop to ourselves, then we could watch the stars. Cuddle. Have snacks, with her being the snack. Music? Tons of pillows? More cuddling?
Throughout the next day, he was giddy with excitement and to his embarrassment, could not stop giggling.
By the time they arrived at the Elfsong Tavern, Astarion was giggling louder than usual. He held her arm as she led them inside and towards the stairs. “Oh my gods, you are too much!” She chuckled softly then her mood shifted. “I hope I don’t let you down…”
“Ahahahaha, let me down?! Agi darling, you can’t be serious!” He let go of her arm and bolted up the stairs to the landing, hands on his hips. “You freed me from Cazador and two hundred years of torment, saved Baldur’s Gate from the Netherbrain, and you’re afraid of disappointing me? Ahahahahahaha!” He watched her fondly as she ascended the rest of the steps. For her, he chose the first dress he made her---long and form-hugging with a plunging neckline and gold accents. Green is one of her best colors, and she was the one who insisted on the lower neckline much to my delight.
She rolled her eyes playfully. “Considering how you’ve been vibrating like Horace when he knows I’m going to give him a treat, yes of course I’m going to worry about disappointing you.” When she reached the top of the stairs, she hugged him. “You’re one of the most important people in my life, Astarion. I want you to be happy. I want what I do for you to be perfect.”
“You worry too much, dear.” Far too much. She has a tincture made from those “relaxing herbs” Halsin gave her during our adventure to help settle her nerves every night. I tell her she’s doing too much, taking on too much responsibility…but she just smiles. Tells me she’s happy to have a hand in making any dream of mine come true. Tells me she’s not only content but the happiest she’s ever been. “Everything you do is perfect.”
She giggled. “I’ll keep that in mind next time I fuck up something.” Glancing at the ladder to the rooftop, she shook her head dramatically. “That just won’t do.” She pulled out a scroll of Fly and cast it on him as she snapped her fingers open the hatch above ALL WHILE FLYING THROUGH USING HER STORM SORCERY!!! Have I said that my darling girl is brilliant and far more talented than Gale?
Laughing even more, Astarion flew up the ladder and through the hatch, landing directly in from of his lover. Laughing, he pulled her face to his as her arms went around his narrow waist. “You are full of surprises, darling.”
“With a few more up my sleeve.” She winked as she kissed him again. Her kisses never fail to brighten my mood and lighten my undead heart. Sweet darling girl, what do you have planned? “This way, love.” She left his embrace, but her hands held his and led him to a pair of chaise lounges pushed together surrounded by floating candles. Is that..? “Snacks and drinks for me and beef blood from our favorite butcher for you. If you want the candle to be dimmer, just tell me and I’ll fix it.”
He watched her lovingly as she let go of his hands and flopped onto one of the lounges, taking a chocolate truffle. “You really thought of everything, didn’t you?” He murmured, pouring himself a glass of blood. “You did all this for me.” And I can’t quite believe it. “You didn’t have to, sweetness.”
She giggled a little as she chewed the truffles and grabbed another one. “Of course I did! Because I love you, Star. I love you, and I want to give you everything I can. Can’t walk in the sun? No problem!” She wrinkled her nose and smirked at him. Fucking hells. My darling girl is tempting me already. I’ll give it you right back, dear. “I’ll just do something very romantic at night with lots of cuddling. Problem solved.”
“I love it when you’re so confident, darling. It’s so very…alluring.” He put down the glass and lay down next to her, curling into her substantial side. “The most powerful sorceress on Toril, and she finally fucking acts like it.” One of his hands caressed her belly as he leaned close to her neck. “A rare and beautiful fruit that one must savor.” Not yet. Maybe later if she offers, but not now. “You wanted to show off, didn’t you, my pretty little butter bun?” he smirked, placing several kisses where he normally fed from her. “My darling giving it her all like the good girl she is. How…very…sweet.” He punctuated each word with a kiss, the hand on her belly slowly traveling upward.
She fidgeted slightly and sat up.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Before we go any further, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you, if that’s alright.”
She’s smiling. Not too wide. Her genuine smile. Maybe it’s nothing bad. I hope it’s nothing. Please don’t let it be something bad. I thought she was happy? Aren’t we happy? I’m happy, but is she happy? I thought so… “Yes, darling, of course.”
“I love you,” she began, brushing away a few of his white curls. “I know I say it all the time, but I mean it…well, every time.” She smiled at him, her brown eyes shining with a level of love, adoration, and devotion that Astarion knew all too well. Because that is always how she looks at me. As if I’m worthy of all that and more. “I love you. You mean everything to me. You’re my home. And I’m saying all this, because—”
Wait…is she…?!?!?!
“I want to know if you—”
IS SHE…?!?!
“Would like to…” She so fucking adorably bit on her lower lip. “Marry me?”
She did.
Astarion stared at Agnetha, mouth dropping open and eyes wide. His lips moved but nothing emerged for several seconds. “Marry you?” He practically squeaked in reply.
The smile on her face faded. “Yes, Star. I’m asking you if you want to marry me. If you would marry me. But only if that’s what you want, and I can understand if you don’t—”
We are not playing that little game tonight, my dear.
He yanked her face towards his roughly, silencing her with a passionate kiss. He maneuvered himself onto his back and encouraged her to lay on top of him. Oh gods, the first time I told her to do that, she started crying. “I’ll crush you, Astarion! I’ll break you!” Frankly, my dear---I don’t give a damn. I’m dead. It’s fine. Now though, she does it happily. That’s it, my good girl. “You seriously think I’d say no to having a party in my…ahem, our honor, then darling, you’re mad.” Astarion snarked, wrapping his arms around her and sighing contentedly. “The answer, of course, is yes.” As if it could be any other answer. I won’t lie---I was planning on proposing to her, but she beat me to it, the cheeky little thing. “If the question,” he whispered softly, hugging her a little tighter. “Is whether I want to be somewhere or do anything with you, the answer is always yes. I will be by your side always, and I want the world to know that.” He chuckled. “Or at the very least, our dear friends and your family.”
Agnetha laughed softly and reached for a small jewelry box. “Before we start talking about color schemes and flowers,” a white gold ring with rubies encircling the band was inside the box. She slipped it on his left ring finger, which he curiously did not have a ring on already. How funny! And how utterly perfect. “Oh thank fuck, it fits. I was worried.”
“Of course you were. Now,” he gave her a small, quick kiss. “Have something to eat and drink, darling, and get comfortable because we are going to talk about colors, flowers, decorations, dates, guest list, seating, and don’t worry, sweetness---our outfits are a top priority!” Her wedding dress will be talked about in Baldur’s Gate for generations. I will ensure that.
Adorably she pretended to be horrified as she poured herself some water and drank. “Oh my gods, what have I done?” She began to laugh and shake her head. “What monster have I unleashed this night?” Still laughing (and I am too because she’s simply too cute and funny), Agnetha took a few more chocolates and a chocolate chip cookie. She baked cookies earlier in the week for a friend she said. Hmmm, must have had several left over. “Sorry love, I couldn’t help it!”
Both now on their backs, Astarion faced her and scoffed. “Oh hush you! With how much teasing I give you on a daily basis, it’s only right and proper that you get your own back on me. Besides, I will only be demanding the best for our wedding, you know. We deserve the best. And speaking of the best, depending on how quickly we want to this planned and done, a certain kind of lily will be in season—”
“Wouldn’t it be so funny if Gale was your best man?” She sniggered, taking a bite out of the cookie. “He’d have the longest fucking speech ever, and somehow we’ll all be crying at the end of it.”
“Ugh. At that point, Halsin would be a much better best man than Gale. Wyll’s not even here, and he would be better! I could pull out a chair with Wyll’s name painted on it, and it would be the best best man ever!” Noticing her bursting out laughing, he rolled his eyes. “Darling really!”
She kissed him for what Astarion definitely thought lingered for a second too long and smiled. “We don’t even have to have a best man or maid of honor. That’s more of a Baldurian tradition, but we don’t have to go along with it. After all,” she wrinkled her nose, grinning. “We’re not exactly a traditional couple.”
Astarion nodded silently.
No, we’re not a traditional couple by any definition.
Elf. Human.
Vampire. Mortal.
Shorter than her. Very tall.
Perfectly lithe and built like a god. A deliciously sexy cream puff come to life.
But that’s just us, and that’s wonderful.
The conversation moved on to colors (white with hints of silver and gold), then to guests (apparently we do in fact have to invite Gale), and then drifted to food (Agi wants at least four tiers with each tier being different flavors to accommodate everyone’s tastes---just have it be your favorite and fuck them, darling!). After a while, Agnetha curled into Astarion’s side. He stared at the stars and then back down at the woman in his arms.
“I just realized something, sweetness.”
“Hmm?” Someone’s getting sleepy. It must be past two in the morning at least.
“I never got to ask you if wanted to marry me.”
She snuggled against his chest and sighed happily. “Yes, Astarion Ancunin, I will marry you.” She’s so sleepy. Aww. “I’ll always marry you, love…”
“I know, my darling girl. But before we can do any of that, my pretty princess needs some sleep.” He helped her to her feet, steadying her. “There’s a good girl, my love. Do you have the rune?” She charmed a pair of twin rune stones to act as a teleport directly into our bedroom, which I may or may not have abused on several occasions. She nodded, and he took it out of one of her dress pockets (you’re welcome, my beautiful butter bun) and used to get them there. He sat her on their bed and cupped her face. “May I undress you, darling?”
“Yes please…”
Everything off and in a pile. Her favorite sleep shirt and shorts. The silkiest bottoms for me. Perfect. “Have the sweetest dreams for us, my darling girl. I’ll be here when you wake.” He murmured, as he relaxed in her embrace.
“Dream’s already come true, Star.” Agnetha said, sleepily pressing a kiss to his neck. “We’re living the dream…”
He barked a laugh. “You impossibly sweet thing! Whatever am I going to do with you?”
Say it. Say it. Say it. Please, darling?
“You’ll marry me, and I’ll marry you…”
Thank you. His eyes watered as he held one of her hands.
We already belong to each other, but to not only show that but also celebrate it? When I couldn’t even dream of that a year ago? When we both have people we care about in our lives to celebrate with us? With her by my side?
Always.
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aidanchaser · 17 hours
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Read Confessions on Ao3 Rating: G for General Audiences Word Count: 1.4K
An Adrinette Post-Reveal fic, where someone brings up Catwalker
Her fingers slide through his hair like she’s untangling silk threads. She thinks she should have made the Adrien-is-Chat-Noir connection sooner, given how many times she’s slid her hands through his hair both in and out of costume. She’s never quite gotten over how smooth it is. She’d told herself that with Chat it was just the magic, and with Adrien, she’d imagined copious bottles of product—only come to find out, it was both.
His head rests in her lap, and his eyes hidden behind his forearm. His fingers fidget absentmindedly with one of her hair ties, and his lanky legs are propped up against her wall, jeans sliding off to show just a bit of bare ankle. She’s pressed back into her own mountain of pillows, and she thinks how nice it is to have afternoons like this together. No more chasing down villains, no more battles, no more secrets.
“Kim as the monkey was an inspired choice,” Adrien says. “He’s about as chaotic as Plagg.”
Marinette laughs softly. “I think that was Master Fu’s choice, not mine.”
“How do you decide who the right choice is?” Adrien pulls his arm from his face and looks up at her. Pensive curiosity flits through his determined green gaze. “Like, Nino’s really protective, so Carapace makes sense, but Alya’s all about truth and justice, right? Lies and illusion don’t make a lot of sense for her.”
Marinette tips her head back and stares at the trapdoor above her bed. “I didn’t think Ladybug made sense for me. She’s so brave and cunning and determined… I’ve always been a coward and pretty hapless and helpless.”
“I think you’re brave and determined.”
“You’ve only known me since becoming Ladybug. I’ve grown a lot.”
“Chat Noir made perfect sense for me.”
Marinette laughs, jostling Adrien, and when she looks back down at him he’s glaring up at her.
“You don’t think so?” he says flatly.
“It’s not that,” she laughs again. “I mean, it does make sense—now anyway. But not how you used to be, you know, around other people.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Just that you’ve changed, too.”
“I was always like this,” he protests. “I just pretended to be someone else for a long time.”
“So you weren’t a handsome, charming, polite and kind friend all those years?”
“Chat Noir is all of those things.”
“Charming is stretching it.”
Adrien wrinkles his nose, and it only makes Marinette laugh more.
“Who was Scarabella, anyway?” Adrien asks, unsubtly changing the subject.
Marinette has to take a moment to compose her giggles. “That was Alya.”
“Ah, of course. She did a good job, but she certainly was no replacement for you.”
Marinette bites her cheek, hoping he can’t see her blush. The hardest thing about dating Adrien after the reveal has been listening to him praise her as Ladybug. She had never quite felt comfortable hearing him praise Ladybug before, and now that he knows the truth, it’s worse, as if knowing both of her identities has somehow doubled the intensity of the compliments.
She unsubtly reaches for a subject change of her own. “And what about Catwalker? You picked him, didn’t you? Or was that Plagg?”
Adrien glances away, tipping his head back for a better gaze of her pinboard that is no longer just Gabriel ads, but has grown to include photos with friends and pictures from several of their date nights, and a few even of Ladybug and Chat Noir.
“Catwalker was—well…” His brow furrows as he searches for the answer. She can’t fathom why it’s so hard for him to explain if he knows, but finally he says, “I was Catwalker.”
Marinette laughs again. “What do you mean you were Catwalker?”
“Well—you didn’t need Chat Noir around, and Plagg didn’t want another holder, so we… we figured something else out.”
Her hands go still in his hair. “You know I always need you, right, minou?”
His eyes are still on her corkboard. “You didn’t need Catwalker.”
“It was more like I couldn’t function with Catwalker. I… I liked you too much. You were so careful, so polite, so put together and charming… I couldn’t even think straight, just like all those times I couldn’t talk to you at school. You just made my brain stop working! I couldn’t be Ladybug if I was too busy thinking about kissing you.”
She hopes he’ll sit up for a kiss, but he still doesn’t move. His gaze remains distant.
“Catwalker was based on the person I would always pretend to be. The person my father wanted me to be.”
Marinette understands rather suddenly where she misstepped. She bites down on her tongue, holding back a stuttered apology. She can’t say she didn’t mean it, or it wasn’t true, because it all was and still is. She loves Adrien, and a lot of “Adrien” has been made to please his father. She understands now why he had pouted when she’d said he was so different from Chat Noir.
She runs her fingers through his hair again with a bit more intention to the contact between them than her lazy strokes earlier. “Shortly before we started dating, I got obsessed with dating Chat Noir.”
“Oh, I remember,” he says, and a small smirk flashes across his face. Despite how insulting it ought to feel, it relaxes her. She knows he’s still here, listening, and not lost in his own head.
“I love all of you, Adrien. You are still kind and polite, and not just to make others happy. You do it because you care. And you’re silly and sometimes charming, but maybe not as often as you’d like to be. You’re Adrien and Chat Noir, you know, and I love all of it. Because I love all of you.”
His eyes finally slide back up to meet hers. “You’re Marinette and Ladybug, you know.”
Heat creeps up her neck and into her cheeks. “O-of course.”
He swings his legs down and pushes himself up to her level. “You are brave and determined and cunning and creative and honest and thoughtful and a hero.” He leans in until his face is inches from hers.
Her cheeks must be fully red now.
“Adrien, I’m not—”
“If I can be Adrien and Chat Noir, why can’t you be Ladybug and Marinette?”
“I-I am, I just—”
“Am I allowed to love all of you?”
Her tongue tingles as her anxiety mounts. Her brain sparks with all the same misfires it used to around Adrien and Catwalker alike, which is unfair since he’s being particularly impolite and invasive in this moment.
“Adrien, I—”
“You’re my lady and my purrincess,” he says, voice low like Chat Noir’s as he brushes her hair away from her face.
Marinette isn’t sure if her heart or her lungs are going to give out first, but one of them is surely about to clock out for the day and leave her high and dry.
And then he kisses her, and all of her parts call it quits—except her mouth, which seems to find its way around his just fine.
His hand slides through her hair, and his other hand finds its way to her waist. Marinette wants to stop, but she also doesn’t want to stop—ever. It occurs to her, distantly, that Adrien has once again changed the subject away from himself, but that thought is too far from this moment, from the heat of this kiss to do any good.
When he finally does pull away, there’s such a Chat-like mischief in his eyes that only makes Marinette’s blush worse.
“I love you,” he says.
She forces herself—with a fair amount of effort—to remember where they had left off their conversation. “I love all of you,” she says.
He hesitates for only a moment, long enough for her to know the weight of her promise reaches where it ought to. He answers, “Only if you’ll let me love all of you, too.”
It’s a fair trade, at least. Maybe someday Ladybug will stop feeling like a costume, like an act she puts on. Maybe someday she’ll feel worth of all of those grand adjectives. But at least today, at least for now, she’ll feel worthy of Adrien, and she hopes that someday he’ll feel worthy of himself, too.
She twists her hands into the collar of his black T-shirt and pulls him in for another kiss.
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caelanglang · 1 year
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Living Longer
a message for someone on the edge…
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from the waters of the sea, to the sands of the beach, to the concrete of the city, to the floorboards of your home — i hope you’ll be proud of yourself for living longer.
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