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#like not to be that bitch but the world is all shades of gray
aro-culture-is · 2 years
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I'm creating a character in my book that is Aro and I want to know how to write one of y'all and to make sure I'm doing it right. I will be upfront and she won't be a shy character. I want to know the stereotypes I should avoid and maybe some I should embrace and if you can some tips on how to create this character. Thank you for your patience and time!
hi @jaksalot,
I'm personally not interested in being a go-to blog for writing advice about aromantic characters. I think it's important to design a character upfront and ask aro people how they feel about that (and not "is this a good representation?", directly ask "how do you feel about this as an aro person?" - being asked to rep your whole community is kinda a lot).
Ultimately the traits you want that character to embody will interact with their aromanticism in ways that depend on your story. a common discussion of arophobic stereotypes in stories is of the trope of making villains loveless aromantics to explain their villainy. i think we can generally agree that's arophobic but - if the story contains an aromantic villain whose backstory involves being discriminated against in an amatonormative world and that's part of why they became a villain, or being aro just happens to be a part of who they are and unrelated.... that's different. you as the writer have to consider the story you want to tell with this character, and place their aromanticism in context.
it's all about context, and I truly can't say enough about how i'd prefer that you create a concept for that story, and then talk with multiple aro people (with their permission) about the vision you have and how they feel about it. who is your audience? how do you describe their aromanticism directly? what's the mood of the scenes where it is discussed? if your audience is likely to include a significant amount of alloromantic people and you describe aromanticism as a neutral trait, only talking about that aromanticism within dark scenes will probably still leave a negative association.
if the feedback is "hey, you're leaning on xyz and that's uncomfortable", then great! you can learn from that context why it's a problem, and not just avoid "shy" aromantics (which I honestly can't say I've even seen as a common trope, though it is sometimes applied to ace ppl). if the opinion is mixed, hey, that's great too! maybe you can explore that in your narrative. is it problematic for a villain, meant to be defeated by a hero, to have aromanticism as a driving factor even if that is not portrayed as an inherently evil trait? idk, how does your story present it? i can tell you that you'd probably have mixed opinions, because people like different things. and if everyone greenlights it, hey, congrats! you did it :)
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The Color of Blood
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: canon violence, mentions of blood, cursing
Word Count: 2,608
Summary: In this world, a person didn’t discover color until they locked eyes with their soulmate. As an agent of SHIELD, finding your soulmate was hardly a priority. Especially since you were currently dealing with the shocking discovery that HYDRA had been pulling the strings behind SHIELD actions this entire time. Life was all about timing, and you were about to find out that your timing was absolute shit.
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You shifted in the seat uncomfortably. Natasha, to your right, shot you an apologetic look, but it was hardly sincere considering the smirk she wore. You had drawn the short straw, so you were sitting bitch between her and Agent Sitwell. More like Agent Judas. You were still in shock that an organization you had dedicated most of your life to had actually been HYDRA infested this entire time. Of all the missions you ran, you wondered how many had been fueled by HYDRA’s goals and desires. It physically hurt your heart to linger on that thought.
“HYDRA doesn’t like leaks.” Sitwell snapped as he leaned towards where Sam was driving. His thigh pressed up against yours and you were not discreet in shoving him off you.
Sam shook his head, eyes on the road, “Then why don’t you try sticking a cork in it?”
“Insight’s launching in 16 hours.” Natasha chimed in and you glanced down at the watch on your wrist.
You bit back an aggravated groan, “As per usual, we’re cutting this save the world thing kind of close.”
“That does seem to be our style.” Natasha hummed from beside you.
Steve glanced back with a nod, “We’re gonna use Sitwell to bypass the DNA scanners and access the helicarriers directly.”
“What?!” Sitwell shoved forward and you had to physically resist throwing his limb off of you. “Are you crazy!? That is a terrible idea.”
“Look, Sitwell--” You snapped in anger, but the low thud of something hitting the roof of the car made you pause as everyone’s eyes shot up. Seconds later an arm smashed through the backseat window, grabbed Sitwell, and ripped him out of the car. You turned just in time to watch a large truck smash into the man. The arm disappeared from view and you heard the familiar sound of a gun. “Nat!”
Your old friend was already ahead of you. She leapt forward, into Steve’s lap, as a bullet fired down into the backseat to your right. Natasha called out your name, but just like her you were already moving. You reached up front grabbing Sam’s shoulder. A bullet fired toward Steve, Natasha yanking him forward and out of the way, and another was fired at Sam, but you were able yank him to the side so it hit the headrest.
Steve reached out and slammed the emergency break bringing the car to a screeching halt. Natasha rolled off Steve onto the floorboard and your own head slammed forward into the edge of the seat. It caused you to bite down on your lip hard, and when you brought your finger to your mouth a warm liquid coated your fingers.
People told you blood was red, and you weren’t entirely sure what that meant, it wasn’t something you could picture, but the shade of gray on your fingers was immensely familiar to you. Over the years, you had become well-versed in that particular shade of gray.
All eyes looked forward as the man on the roof, who had flown off, managed to flip over and land with ease. His metal fingers digging into the asphalt bringing up bright sparks. He slowly stood up, and you only hesitated for a second before pulling your gun out of your holster and aiming it forward. Before you, or Natasha, could get a single round out, something slammed into the back of the car forcing you forward again as glass exploded behind you.
“Fuck!” You barked in both jarring surprise and pain. You managed to keep your hand on your weapon as the car slid forward, but the Winter Soldier leapt from the road and landed back on top of the car. Sam slammed on the brakes, but it only filled the air with the sound of squealing tires since the men behind you were still ramming into your car. You turned and fired a round of shots, but not a single one pierced the bullet proof glass.
When you turned to reload, you watched as a metal hand crashed through the windshield, grabbed the steering wheel, and ripped it out. Sam leaned back in surprise and barked, “Shit!”
Natasha, who got a hand on her weapon again, fired rounds into the roof while you struggled to get a new clip into your gun. The Winter Soldier jumped off the roof and onto the front of the car behind you. Finally reloaded, you began to turn so you could fire, but the truck slammed into the car again and suddenly the car spun sharply to the side.
It was going to flip.
Steve realized this the same second you did, and he caught you off guard when he reached into the backseat, his fist tightly bunched into your shirt, and ripped you into the front seat.
“Hang on!” He yelled and the next moments were a blur. The kind of blur you assumed only a super solider would be able to follow. One moment you were in the car, and the next you were lying on Steve’s chest, beside Natasha, with Sam pressed on top of you. Sparks flew around the group of you as the car continued to roll, while the car door slid along the road. It all happened in seconds, and it couldn’t last. Sam slipped off first, rolling off to the side, and you were the next to fall off while Steve and Natasha continued to careen down the road.
Your body slammed into asphalt hard and the world around you spun a few times as you rolled along the hard surface. When you finally stopped it took a second to catch your breath and gather your bearings. Despite the pain, you pushed yourself to stand. Sam was off to the side, in good enough condition, and hiding behind a car. Up ahead were Steve and Natasha.
The truck stopped and you watched in shock as the Winter Soldier was handed a grenade launcher. A curse was half out of your mouth as you realized you had lost your gun in the fray and the Soldier fired his own weapon. Steve threw his shield up in time, but it hit him dead on and sent him flying back. Steve clipped the hood of a car, flipped over, and then disappeared off the side of the bridge.
Natasha’s eyes caught yours and you nodded once. Years of working together meant words often weren’t needed. She’d be on the bridge with Sam, you needed to cover Steve. Gunfire filled the air as you sprinted to the side of the bridge and jumped. When your feet left the concrete, you fired a zipline from the gauntlet on your wrist that dug into the concrete and rappelled you down just slow enough that you didn’t end up a smudge on the ground.
Steve had been thrown into a bus that now sat on its side. You unclipped the used cord and sprinted to the front of the bus. Screaming and gunfire still filled the air and you helped a few people near the front of the bus out of the vehicle while telling them to run to safety.
“Steve!” You yelled and ducked under the broken glass to get into the bus. You spotted the blond lying on his back slowly shifting up and made your way toward him. Each person you passed you dragged up and told them to run. “Steve!”
You grabbed his shoulder and helped him sit up. He grunted in pain, “Nat and Sam?”
“On the bridge, last I saw.” You replied. “Shield?”
“Lost it on the road.” Steve motioned to the front of the bus, “Get out. Get everyone on the street to safety. Now.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. You turned and climbed out of the bus back onto the street. A familiar face ran past you on the other side of the street ducking behind cars. Natasha. That meant Sam was up there alone? You didn’t have time to linger on the thought. You ran forward and began to herd civilians out of crashed cars and down the street. The slamming of another car made you glance back to see the Winter Soldier land harshly on the roof of a car under the bridge.
Bad sign. Very bad sign.
Heavy artillery fire echoed behind you and you moved even quicker. As you sprinted down the street looking for Natasha with the Winter Soldier slowly stalking down the road towards the two of you, you spotted a small group of people huddled behind a car off to the side. You veered off the road to them.
“You can’t stay here, it isn’t safe.” You barked and began to drag them down the sidewalk. A car exploded into a ball of fire behind you. Shit, he was close. You ripped your jacket off, wrapping it around your arm quickly, and then slammed your elbow into the glass on a storefront door so it shattered. You reached in to unlock it, then herded the people inside, “Get all the way to the back and stay hidden!”
You dropped your jacket and didn’t bother picking it back up. Instead, you took off again knowing Natasha would be facing the Soldier alone if you didn’t get there in time. As you sprinted around the corner you spotted Natasha jump onto the Winter Soldier’s shoulders. She used a cord to try and choke him out, but his arm stopped the move entirely. You ran in, without hesitation, and slammed into the Soldier’s back with a grunt in hopes it would jar him enough that Natasha could get a grip. She managed to tighten the hold just a bit, but a thick leg kicked out, backwards, and the asset’s boot slammed into your chest sending you sprawling back and into the side of a car.
With a cry of pain, you fell forward onto your chest. You desperately sucked in a sharp breath, trying to regain the air you lost, and as you shifted to try and get up you felt your entire body ache. The ribs on your right side were broken, you recognized that pain. Natasha must have gotten thrown off too, she was across the road, and she gave you the signal to retreat before throwing a widow bite onto the Soldier’s arm.
Despite the pain, you sprinted toward her and as the Winter Soldier slumped over to try and regain control of his arm, you and her ran down the side road. This one was still crowded with people who were too panicked to listen when you told them to get the hell out of the way. Luckily for them, unlucky for you, it seemed the asset’s main focus was on the two of you.
A shot rang through the air and Natasha cried out in pain while stumbling forward. You cursed and grabbed her, pulling her behind a car, while she tried to refocus through the pain. A through and through bullet wound. Right shoulder. “Shit.” You mumbled again and pressed down on top of her hand that was already on her wound. That same familiar shade of gray leaked over both of your hands. “It’s bleeding too much.”
“Get the hell out of here.” Natasha hissed.
“No.” You snapped. “Not without you.”
She whipped around to look over her shoulder in panic, and when you followed her gaze you watched as Steve sprinted out of nowhere to attack the Winter Soldier. The metal arm punched out against the shield, like the ringing of a gong, and you breathed a quick sigh of relief.
“We gotta go. While Steve has him distracted.” You looped her arm around your shoulders and began to drag her away. Natasha began to complain through grunts of pain, but you didn’t slow down or argue with her. In a matter-of-fact tone, you spoke, “I’m getting you to a safe spot and then I’ll help Steve.”
You got her to cover behind a van, and ignoring her yelling after you, ran back out to where you had left Steve. When you got back, Steve was just standing there. The Winter Soldier stood between the two of you, facing Steve, but all you could see was the look of disbelief on your friend’s face.
What the hell was going on?
Why had the fight stopped?
The Soldier raised his gun again, Steve was still frozen, but you only got another step forward when Sam dropped from the air from your right and kicked both his feet into the asset. The Winter Solider went careening to the side as Sam landed. Now you had him surrounded, Steve to his right, Sam in front of him, and you to his left. You stepped forward with arms ready for a fight. Did you think you could come out of a tussle with the Winter Soldier alive? Absolutely not. But, you could keep him from escaping past you while the others closed in.
Sirens could be heard in the distance, the asset stood back up from where he had fallen and you realized now you could see his face. He no longer had the mask on, and he was… vaguely familiar? Where had you seen that face before? Before you could ponder a second longer on that, his glaring eyes dragged from Steve to Sam and then from Sam to you. The moment your eyes met his though, it felt like your world had fallen out from under you.
Shades of gray and black turned brighter and with every blink something new flooded your senses. It was too much all at once. Your once bleak world exploded with color and you sucked in a sharp breath as your arms fell to your side. In fact, you were so distracted by the vivid scenery around you that it took you a few moments to realize the cause of this had been the Winter Soldier. HYDRA’s number one asset. The man who had been trying to violently murder all of you less than thirty seconds ago.
If the Soldier was surprised, you didn’t see it. He suddenly lunged to the left just as something hit the car behind him sending it up in flames. A grenade. You had been just a bit too close and the force of it sent you sprawling back. The back of your skull bounced off the asphalt and suddenly the oh so colorful world seemed to be spinning. Dazed, you stared up at the sky.
The blue sky.
Your hand reached back to touch the warmth dripping from your head and when you shakily brought you hand back into view, blood coated the fingers. Red blood. Oh.
So, that’s what red looked like.
Still stunned from the blow, you struggled to sit up, but you were only a few inches up off the ground when someone grabbed you and threw you over their shoulder. The movement made your world spin again and you groaned out in pain as you hung limply over the broad shoulder that was now carrying you. You heard your name being called out, but sounds were beginning to grow dim. Replaced with ringing.
“Steve?” You mumbled in hopes. He had broad shoulders. Maybe he was the one carrying you away. You blinked your blurry eyes a few times as they briefly came into focus as you stared at the back of the person carrying you. Black leather. Steve hadn’t been wearing black leather. The ringing grew louder as your eyes fluttered close. Your entire world went black before you could connect the dots on what was happening.
[next chapter]
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sciderman · 6 months
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Hi Sci! You always have the best Peter Parker Takes™️, so I was hoping you could help me with something! I like a lot of things about Peter, but I find it so hard to reconcile the fact that he tends to be written as pro-police and politically moderate. I personally headcanon that he was more of a morally black-and-white hothead when he first started Spider-Manning, but as he grew older and wiser, he started understanding that everything tends to be shades of gray and thinking before swinging in with punches. Still, you’d think a kid who grew up poor in Queens would know better than to just go “ah you are stealing and therefore Bad” ya know?? I know these grievances are more with what the comics/film industry will publish, but still, my kingdom for some nuance!!
oh, bless you anon! god - the cop question is so interesting in superhero media, it really is - and, honestly, my take is kind of the opposite of yours. peter parker wasn't aligned with the cops in any way when he started. in fact, he kind of had a general distaste for cops because, you know, the cops kind of had it out for him.
never forget, peter being a bitchy little bitch boy to the cops is kind of his origin story.
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when peter started he actually had very little respect for other heroes or law enforcement at all. he kind of just worried about himself, and his aunt may and that was all. he wasn't any sort of beacon of morality who was seeking to deliver justice or anything. he kind of just wanted to take photographs and make a buck. it took him a long time to start playing "hero" - and even when he did, law enforcement and him were generally not on the same side.
i think his first real positive relationship with someone on the side of the law was captain stacy - peter, obviously, respected him a lot and, you know, captain stacy died heroically.
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still, spider-man's relationship with the law continues to be rocky at best - he's constantly being hunted by the law but also some individual cops kind of have a soft-spot for him and let him off the hook - sometimes he helps them, sometimes he's on the run - they love him, they love him not - kind of fluctuates. i think the spider-man comics are generally noncommital about the cop question and kind of just play whatever song will give peter parker the most drama. spider-man comics were are generally lighthearted about this sort of a thing.
i think it's not until a post 9/11 world where copaganda kind of became a lot more prevalent in superhero media and you suddenly started seeing all the heroes working with law enforcement. suddenly, i think, it became unquestionable - a hero had to respect the law, even if they were a vigilante. i think - especially with spider-man comics being set in new york - there was a desire to see these heroic figures working alongside "real life heroes" - so, i think all of the sentiment that peter is pro-cop came from a post-9/11 world, which - to be fair, with the first spider-man movie coming out when it did, it's no wonder that the public consensus on spider-man is that he'd be pro-cop.
andrew's spidey - andrew's spidey isn't full-on anti-police, but he doesn't exactly hold law enforcement in the highest respect
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the movie itself isn't police-critical but peter is portrayed as your general "no respect for authority" kind of kid in tasm1 who's relationship with the law i guess shifts after captain stacy helps him and dies heroically. andrew and the cops are presumably bffs in tasm2 – he's kind of just totally beloved by the city in tasm2. i feel like tasm2 probably really severely under-explores spider-man. in fact, it feels like spider-man is barely in tasm2. he's barely a character. i think maybe that's where the tasm movies stumble, actually. those movies really aren't about spider-man at all. they're entirely about peter parker. and yes, there is a difference.
tom holland's spider-man is a cop. police don't really feature in his story, but he is one. funded by the elite class and basically tasked with looking after their property. hate that. gross.
i think it's why i hate seeing peter working with the avengers. the avengers are cops. he doesn't belong there. it's only a recent development where we started getting spider-man on team-rosters - he was always a solo guy who didn't really particularly want to play with others. he had his own stuff to deal with and it didn't matter to him hugely whether he was playing on the side of the law or not. he was dealing with his stuff.
personally i'm not about seeing a morally black-and-white peter parker. i don't think he's ever been that way and i still hate seeing him reduced to that - i think we see him painted as politically moderate because spider-man stories really aren't often about asking greater questions - i don't think it's the platform for it. peter is always too concerned with his own personal troubles to pursue any sort of activism - i think it's quite funny - as active as spider-man is, peter parker is generally an apathetic figure, and i think that makes him a certain degree of relatable. i think characters like gwen and mj and even aunt may are more politically active than peter parker is. peter's kind of too busy just trying to survive.
i love the thought of a peter parker that does punch first. i think that's his whole bag. he's not thoughtful. he's quick to anger. he actually isn't particularly thoughtful and doesn't always approach situations with some moral wisdom. sometimes he punches the wrong people. sometimes his anger is misguided. his energy is practically always going into the wrong places. he doesn't always know what's right and wrong. but he tries.
i'm so not into the stories that paint him as a moral beacon because - more often than not - he's doing it for himself. if he really did have unwavering respect for the law and his morals perfectly aligned with the cops, he wouldn't put the mask on. it's like, the whole point. a vigilante exists fundamentally by it's disobedience to the law. otherwise they'd be carrying a badge.
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fottitimioamore · 1 year
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hii !!
i have a request,
could you write a rottmnt bros + april x fashionable!reader? like the reader is always looking put together with their outfits, makeup, and hair. fem, please.
thanks ! xoxo
Yeah totally! I'm lowkey jealous of people who have a fashion sense because my closet is 50 shades of gray. Literally. I think I have a blue shirt somewhere in there. Maybe.
I thiiink this was only a little after the ask came in, notifs on mobile are bizarre whyy
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♡ Pairing: All + April x fashionable!reader
♡ Warnings: None
♡ Relationship: Romantic
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Raphael
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♡ He loves your looks! He thinks you look amazing all the time, but the fact that you can put together a fit no matter what is so cool
♡ He can't really wear clothes, given his whole shell situation, but he's gonna hype you up every time you show up
♡ So many compliments. It's almost overwhelming how much praise you get from this man
♡ I imagine his compliments are hushed, under a bashful smile that he can't help. He wants you to know how amazing you look, but saying it out loud makes him a lil' nervous
♡ He likes watching you get ready whenever he can. He's completely happy just sitting by you, watching your process
♡ He likes seeing you in his color. He'll never admit it, but whenever you incorporate a little bit of crimson into an outfit his heart flutters
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Leonardo
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♡ Man fell hard and flat on his face after meeting you
♡ No matter how long you guys are together, he will always be astonished at the level of perfection you achieve with every outfit
♡ From your shoes to your hair (which he is soo jealous of), you are the embodiment of a bad bitch
♡ He studies everything about every fit, always going to you for tips about his own when he actually wears something
♡ Please do his makeup. I just know he'd strut around all smug, proud of himself and your work. "Oh! Oh this? Yeah, my girlfriend did it. She's great huh?"
♡ If you let him (try) doing your makeup or hair, I swear you'll see hearts in his eyes. He's not great at it, but give him some pointers along the way and he'll be your personal assistant anytime you need
♡ Matching outfits. All the time. He loves matching with you when you go out. Makes him feel closer to you
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Donatello
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♡ This man draws his eyebrows onto his mask. There is no way he does not know his way around some makeup
♡ He's right there with you in the morning, granted his process is much simpler given his lack of clothes, and hair
♡ He still likes spending the time with you, even if he has to mess up his eyebrow for the 13th time just to have an excuse to stay
♡ Maybe you mess up one too many times and he must insist he do it lest he watch you struggle any longer ;)
♡ Now Leo can rock an outfit alright, all of them can. But Donnie? Whole 'nother level. Every time out of the lair with you, you guys are the models of NYC
♡ Like Raph, wearing his color is *chef's kiss* Most likely all of your duo fits will incorporate it in some way
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Michelangelo
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♡ Star-struck. Every time. Always impressed at how put-together you look
♡ And like Raph, he wants you to know you look good. Unlike Raph, though, he is not afraid to tell you
♡ The world will know how amazing you look, doesn't matter if it's an everyday fit or something special, he is literally singing your praises
♡ When he's not hyping you up, he's admiring your sheer beauty. Every inch is pure perfection. Your hair, your clothes, your makeup, even the way you hold yourself.
♡ Perfectly content sitting watching you go about your day, goofy smile on his face (giggling and kicking feet vibes fr)
♡ He does like trying your makeup every once in a while, he is an artist after all. Normally though, he gets a little distracted and may start hiding little doodles on ypur shoulders. Nothing major, just something you can wipe of if you wanted
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April
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♡ Bad bitch duo. Whenever you guys go out, she loves doing a matchy matchy thing. You guys will always compliment each other
♡ Shopping sprees? Yes. That's really all here is to that man
♡ Pretty decent at makeup
♡ Well someone had to teach Donnie how to do his eyebrows
♡ I dont see her wearing a ton, but she knows her way around it would love it if you let her do yours from time to time
♡ Vice versa too, you ever offer to do her's she will literally fall depeer in love
♡ She really does admire how perfectly you present yourself all the time, it really is a mystery to her how one person can be so beautiful
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Feedback and constructive criticism are always welcome! <3
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nebulaleaf · 10 months
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What color would u say Akira’s eyes are? I see a lot of people say gray and I’ve also seen red, but I always thought they were a dark brown
You’re starting a cult around him so I figured you’d have an opinion
ok 1) not starting a cult that's just an in-joke making fun of a silly anon i got. 2) yes i do have an opinion. but also ...... FACTS !!! I usually go grey as the normal default but I understand the confusion. Official artworks for merchandise range from black to a light blue 😭. Lets take a trip down model / reference lane, shall we? First up: P5D!
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We'll rope P5 / P5R into this too, because it's the same colour. Akira's eyes appear this shade... almost always! The metaverse, the real world... grey as graphite. Ah, but "almost! almost!?" you cry! Yes, yes. There's one exception.
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Recall the persona awakening scene. Recall *all* of them, actually. All persona users have their eyes turn yellow when tearing their mask off.
This holds true for their models as well! For a few frames, during the summoning animation, their faces turn black and their eyes turn yellow. It's easier to see on some characters than others. (Others being joker. this took me SO long to scrub for.) Now, lets look at his sprites! So I guess we can call this part uh, Persona Q.A? (That's what these sprites are from, anyway...)
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Now these eyes definitely look black! Honestly I think you could argue that the previous set were black too. On their own, they seem grey but the key thing to compare them with here is Akira's hair. They're both the same colour in the sprites and uh, that's definitely not grey hair. Now the anime! I won't be covering P5A: The Daybreakers because. Well. It'd just be more "Wow it's black. Now it's black again." P5A Is interesting because I swear to god his eyes were red when they were in mementos. but i must've imagined that???
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That's just not a thing that happens! It's grey! The only exception is the... [shudders] All Out Attack. (Which also happens in P5:the game. forgot to mention that earlier; but it could be chalked up to mere aesthetic choice)
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My assumption about red-eyes is at least partially true though. Nnnot in the sense that what I thought happened, happened, but more-so... Whenever Joker is depicted with red eyes, it's in his PT outfit. And like... only that outfit.
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Mementos mission loves doing it. p5a does it. Artists do it. my BRAIN does it. Q2 also does it!! (hi all out attack. again)
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other notable mentions for Doin' It Red While Being Joker are Akirby and the Official Jonker Nendo. Idk what that means but! Yeah
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A few promo arts do the red-eyes thing like this original key art and multiple official illustrations for p5's release. I think it's just a fun aesthetics thing honestly. p5 is red. akira is from p5. slap some red on that bitch on him eye.
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[ key art | strikers art | og p5 art ] So that solves that mystery. I think the idea of brown eyes either comes from being realistic (black eyes irl are just really really dark brown) op's colour palette ooooooooooor.... misunderstanding an official palette!
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This is Q2's cut in graphic. The eyes look kind of brown, right? But it's mostly just a lighting thing. The face is darkened and the eye's colour is lightened to give that slick piercing-gaze-through-the-shadows effect.
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(Q2 Akira is pretty pasty, as we can see here. the skintone matches the brightest highlight in the cut-in image.)
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striker's sprites eyes look pretty brown too, but if you look at the hair and shadows, you can see it's because everything has a brown hue. we're doing black without doing black! (...except for the deepest shadows and lines, but cmon. if you put black on black its just gonna look like a big ol' blob.) this same effect is often used in many tribute artworks for p5 that aren't in the usual black/white/single colour style or crossover artwork because............ well it's basic colour theory. The only exception to the "rules" i've laid out here I have ever seen is the artwork done for Persora The Golden Best 5th Album artwork.
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WHY ARE THEY BLUE. THAT'S WRONG. anyway. hoped this post helps you. my personal opinion is grey / silver if i wanna get all OOooh FANCY when writing a fic and waxing poetic and then yellow when summoning a persona or using some kind of spell in mementos. don't see brown in the slightest and red... yeah, i'll pass on having that be his default in mementos? maybe? idk i go back and forth on it lol. just get jiggy with it
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magnoliacharmed · 6 months
Text
Sextape
18+, CM Punk x Randy Orton one shot
[Also available on Archive of Our Own!]
Tags: mutual masturbation, porn video, porn with feelings
Word count: 2909
Summary:
Randy invites Punk over to his hotel room, then gets more than he bargained for.
Punk shoved his raggedy old duffle bag into Randy's arms and walked into the hotel room like he owned it. It was one thing Randy respected about him; he didn't act confident, he was confident. Sometimes, too much for his own good. But Randy was sure someone had said that about him in the past. 
"Did you really need to bring all this shit with you?"
Randy stared down at the duffle bag while he kicked the door to the room shut. Punk sat down on the couch, sinking into it without a care in the world. He kicked his feet up on the coffee table in front of it and rested his hands on his chest, blinking pretty eyes at Randy's prone figure still standing at the entrance. 
"This is a nice room, a lot nicer than anything they've given me. What do I gotta do to get a suite this nice?"
"Be me."
Punk huffed out his breath dramatically, then rolled his eyes. Randy was such a buzzkill sometimes. 
"Or, fuck me. Then you get to stay for a night. Depending on how I feel after, at least."
"Oh come on, Randy. We both know you'll let me stay."
"Don't be so sure."
Randy threw the bag onto the couch beside Punk and walked back into the room. The sun was setting relatively quickly, no doubt because of fat clouds rolling in. They were tinted a pleasant shade of pink and purple and orange on their bottoms, with a threatening deep gray painting the top of them. As hot as it was outside, rain would soon come pouring down. Randy let himself stare out into the distance for a few seconds, tilting his head at the droplets that were already beginning to appear on the window pane, then shut the curtains. 
Punk watched the whole thing quietly. Sometimes there were those little moments where he so desperately wanted to know what the hell was on Randy's mind. He wasn't sure he had the balls to ask him though, so he never reached out. The prospect of bothering him with an inane question, breaking whatever this little thing they shared together some nights… Well, Punk had come to enjoy it. So it was best to keep his mouth shut.
"You haven't even asked what's in the bag." Punk's voice held a hint of teasing in it.
"Probably something weird."
"Ouch."
Yes, the stuff was weird. But he didn't need to say it like that, in that deadpan no-joke unreadable way that made Punk twist up inside.
"Lucky for you, weird is what I'm in the mood for tonight. Open it up."
Randy made his way back over to the couch as Punk unzipped the bag slowly. He wanted to shock Randy, in fact he kind of needed to. The shock was what made it especially fun. There was only so many times Randy could call him a bitch or fuck him in some sort of semi-public space before it started to bore Punk.
"Tsk, tsk," Randy shook his head as he rifled through the bag. A red and white striped cheerleader's skirt, a cock ring, various dildos of different colors and sizes… the only thing that caught the barest semblance of his interest were a few DVDs.
"Not weird enough, Punk. Or maybe, predictably weird."
Punk felt like his chest was going to cave in very suddenly. Not weird enough? What the fuck?
"Uh… predictably weird?"
"Yeah, man. I knew you were into this kinda stuff already." Randy threw a transparent purple dildo into Punk's lap as he hit the bottom of the bag. He picked up the DVD cases and fanned them out in his hands. Two were about what Randy expected-- one held a perfect shot of a woman with her mouth wide open and come covering her lips, the other a barrage of stills of a man being fucked in a few different positions.
"Kinda looks like us." Randy turned the case around to Punk and smiled. Thank God. Punk was starting to think he fucked up.
The last case was strangely not of the dirty variety. It advertised some low budget action movie, the kind where every element on it looked poorly photoshopped on. A ripped white sheet of paper was slotted in the plastic covering that covered the actor's body. Randy popped open the case to find an unmarked disc where the movie should have been. He was stumped.
"And what's this supposed to be?"
The little gap in Punk's front teeth was cute. It gave him an air of innocence he most certainly didn't actually possess. Randy couldn't help but to let his cock stiffen slightly at seeing Punk beam up at him while it showed. 
"A surprise."
Randy paused at how playful Punk had gotten. He knew to be cautious when he started acting like that. It was best to ignore it for the time being. Soon enough, Punk would spill his own secret. Whether that was because he couldn't contain it or because Randy would get it out of him one way or another was to be seen. 
"A surprise? I don't know if I like your surprises."
"You'll like that one. But for now, it waits. Choose one of those other videos."
Randy sat the mystery movie down on the coffee table. He tried to figure out what kind of mood he was in as he looked at the other two videos. Watching Punk squirm while he took his time deciding made it all the more fun.
"Hm, okay. I think I know what I want. Close your eyes."
Punk shut his eyelids and crossed his arms over his chest. Randy turned on the TV and immediately muted it as he pressed a few buttons on the remote to switch the input to the DVD player. The plastic case snapped and popped when Randy removed the disc from it. Very shortly after he let the player take it, the menu queued itself up in all of its bright, naughty glory. Randy let the production logos start, then skipped past all of the scenery set up. Finally, he turned the sound back up just a little. 
Punk was being a lot more patient than he expected. It turned Randy on more than he thought it would, so he hurried to remove his clothes. He lowered himself onto the couch, only inches away from Punk's figure.
"Open."
Punk wasn't sure what to look at. Randy sat beside him completely naked, eyes on higher alert than usual, stroking himself slowly for Punk's benefit. He felt his cheeks get hot as he looked up towards the video, the woman with her mouth agape on the DVD cover getting ready to take a large cock into her mouth.
"Undress for me. Then, press play and sit back down."
Punk was off of the couch before Randy could finish. He fumbled to get his jeans and t-shirt off, then rushed over to press play. When he returned to sit by Randy, he made sure their bodies were touching.
"You must have seen the case for this one at my house, huh?" Randy's breath hitched as he twisted around himself. The video wasn't new to him by any means, but it was good every time. He'd shot off to it more than a few times, imagining the dark-haired woman as Punk each time. She even had a lip ring just like his. He wondered if he should do a better job hiding his stash as he recalled Batista coming across it once while visiting and making the connection between the woman and Punk very quickly.
"Maybe," Punk didn't take a second glance at the TV. His gaze fell fully on Randy's body, on the way his chest rose and fell while he stroked away. His head was thrown back while he continued on, feeling the way Punk stared a hole through him. Punk grabbed on to his own dick roughly, applying lots of pressure while he watched Randy. It'd been some time since they'd done this together. 
Randy's eyes, as blue as ever, shot open to return a look at Punk. The flush of his cheeks had spread across his cheeks, adding ever so sweetly to that innocent look he loved to put on. Punk felt especially seen, an overwhelming sense of pleasure washing over him. 
"Don't you look pretty," Randy smiled at Punk like he was going to eat him up. It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Punk did look pretty coming undone just thinking about Randy.
"Just for you, Randy." Punk pressed his thumb hard at the base of himself. The woman's moans felt much louder in Punk's ear than they actually were. Randy could barely even hear them with the blood rushing in his ears.
"Just for me, fuck." 
Randy groaned and took a deep breath. He let go of himself, to Punk's immense disappointment. Punk continued to stroke at the sight of Randy's wet cock bobbing in the air. Punk didn't know where he got the discipline from to just stop at a moment's notice. He certainly wasn't going to stop on Randy's accord. It was selfish, but Randy had come to expect it. He'd even started to get a thrill out of how much Punk couldn't contain himself.
"You can keep going, but I want you to come while I fuck you. So you'd better slow it down."
Punk made a tortured noise that was a cross between annoyance and restraint. He pouted and let his hand flop onto the couch.
"I think it's time for that other video now. This time, you go stand over there and close your eyes."
Randy sighed at the request, but obeyed. It only took a couple of minutes for Punk to swap out the DVDs and position himself on the bed. He arched himself up, shaking his hair out to get it nice and big, and turned his head his neck quickly to peek at Randy still standing in the corner. The remote rested right in front of him, ready for the final step.
"Alright, open."
There was a long, expected silence in the room. Punk kept his ass in the air and wished he could see Randy's expression. If he wasn't angry, he could bet he was surprised.
"What… the fuck?"
Randy could not take his eyes off the image of Punk's fucked out face filling the TV screen. He had a wild look in his eyes as he bit at the bottom of his smiling lip and looked right into the lens of the camera. Randy was right behind him, or at least the blurred movement of his legs were.
"I look hot, huh?"
Randy was too pissed to admit that he looked perfect. 
"When did you do this?" Randy's voice was dangerously low. 
"Does it matter?" Punk readjusted his arms. They were starting to cramp up.
"No, I guess it fucking doesn't." 
The weight of the bed dipped when Randy climbed onto it. He grabbed at Punk's neck hard and forced him to look into his face.
"Are you mad at me?" Punk tried to reach up to give Randy a kiss, but couldn't move a muscle.
Randy took a second to answer. He was mad. Not because he'd been filmed without permission, he didn't care about that. He was mad because Punk had done it first, the sneaky bastard. He'd been planning on asking him if he could have a camera going for a while now. Now he had to come up with some new idea to keep Punk interested.
"I bet you wish I was, I know you like it when I'm angry. No, I'm not mad. I think it's sexy."
Punk almost let the wind get taken out of his sails before hearing that Randy said he thought it was sexy. He pushed his body back into Randy eagerly and inched his way to the remote's play button.
The volume had been turned up significantly from the sudden sound of Punk laughing ringing in Randy's ears as the video started. Randy watched himself pull Punk across-- his own bed? He filmed this at his house? He'd know those dark sheets anywhere. Video Randy grabbed at Punk's waist and pulled them chest to chest together, almost out of frame. He leaned into suck at the flesh of Punk's neck hard, making Punk moan as they both fell back fully on the bed. 
It was all coming back to Randy. That session between them had been a particularly good one. Better than usual, and that was saying a lot. Seeing the video now, it all clicked in Randy's head. Punk put on an extra special show just for him. 
Punk felt the slicked up head of Randy's cock press at his hole. While he thought they were both watching the video in a daze, Randy had reached over to the bedside table to rub lube onto himself. 
Punk was on his back now in the video with Randy still incessantly kissing and sucking at his neck. Those bruises took forever to heal, he remembered. He sported them proudly around the locker room and let the other guys take a guess at which Diva had given them to him. With every new name that came out of their mouths, Punk laughed. Video Punk looked up into the camera when Randy entered him. 
Punk of real life's mouth fell open when Randy took the opportunity to slot himself inside of him. He pushed back onto his dick and fucked back while watched the video play. It was unfortunate that the hidden positioning of the camcorder had muffled its microphone. Punk caught a few snippets of whatever Randy had been whispering to him that night and felt his cock twitch below him. He always knew the perfect thing to say. Randy continued to grasp at Punk's hips while he watched the video. What had made him so passionate that night, he couldn't remember. He was at Punk's neck like a vampire, moving from side to side then reaching up to say something obscene in his ear.
Punk moaned a beat off of his moans from the video, filling the room with a loud cacophony of his own voice. He was never not selling it. The smooth, tanned, tattooed skin of Video Randy's back had a bit of a sheen covering it from sweating. Video Punk licked the sweat that dripped down onto his neck as he looked back into the camera, then quickly pulled Randy in for a messy kiss when he began to look up in the direction of the lens.
"Very sneaky of you," Randy growled above him. He was sort of embarrassed at how ready he was to come this soon. 
Punk was jumping out of his skin from Randy's pace. His cock swung around heavily below him, begging to be touched. He wanted to save it for right at the end, right at the perfect moment. Randy's legs shook as he continued to fuck Punk hard and the video played on. Not only did Punk look good, but he himself looked good. He always looked good, but seeing himself on video in the middle of sex really did something else for him. At least he knew if wrestling didn't work out, he could always be a pornstar.  
Punk angled up to reach at his cock at the impending finale. He just knew it would catch Randy off guard. He of course knew it was coming up. He'd watched the video about a million times before finally debuting it to Randy. 
Video Randy slowed down and grinded slowly into Punk, a lewd movement that made Video Punk's eyes shut. They were both about to come. 
"God, you look so good, baby." 
Randy delicately smoothed Punk's sweaty hair out of his face. In a moment that Punk was sure had to be a slice of heaven, Randy's lessened pace and loving expression sent him careening out to space. He returned the look back to him, his eyes saucer plate huge and adoringly staring at Randy. Together they both groaned in ecstasy, their orgasms wracking their bodies at the same time.
Punk's moan was guttural as he latched onto his dick and stroked. His come shot out on the comforter with rushed spurts that made his legs wobble. Randy followed suit shortly after, breathing heavily. It took him a long time to actually pull out of Punk. He waited for his blurred, wet vision to clear up while he watched the last minutes of the video. He had collapsed on top of Punk, whispering little inside jokes as they both tried not to pass out. Finally, Randy of real life pulled out and fell back on to the bed, his arms spread out while he stared up at the ceiling. Punk climbed off of the bed and headed to the bathroom to clean himself up. Randy hadn't moved an inch when he returned to lie down next to him.
"So, you gonna kick me out?"
Punk framed the question as a joke. Deep down he wasn't sure if Randy was going to send him packing, especially after his little videotape stunt.
"No."
"No?" 
"No, Punk. I want you to stay."
"Okay."
Punk didn't press his luck as he moved in closer to Randy's body and the video quietly stopped playing.
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groovyfandomhuman · 2 months
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OK, so I have this character. Her name is lavender. She was from an old book series that I never finished. But I have been working on for like in eternity, so she is polysexual asexual and trans female. She transition from male to femaher mother. Is a bitch and a homophobic little piece of shit.Her father has disappeared from existence.She meets a girl named Alex alex is a Royal but her mother doesn't like Alex. So she tries stopping lavender from dating Alex by shooting lavender with an arrow. And this is all in a fancy world. So to save lavender's life, Alex's a wit. The performance belt that would send lavender to another world. That spell was done 3 years later. Alex decides finally time to go get lavender back. And I have all of lavender's information. She has long brown Hair, she has Gray eyes. She enjoys reading. She's a horrible Baker. She has a cat who is great friends with her third cousin's cat juniper. Her cat's name is Luna and she knows how to throw shit real well. Her favorite color is a light shade of indigo. Her favorite song is teenagers Her favorite spell is Luna Carta Tala Which is an incantation that causes items and people to float. Her favorite Flower Cyclamen
holy shit that's amazing.
and the mother is a bitch. you nailed bish-writing.
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rokramble · 21 days
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Counterpart's Conundrum - a kinda Dark Links meet AU, with bonding, attempted murder, shenanigans and Ravio :D
Or a time traveling nightmare camping trip that Ravio was accidentally invited to, and now everyone has feelings and gets to learn about morals and personhood or some shit. It's very funny to me, so expect the vibes to be closer to a crackfic taken seriously right now.
Also I added totk fake Zelda, because that idea was also very funny to me. <3 I'll put a few details below.
I only chose dark links/shadow links we fight in the games, so there's no SkSw, BotW, MC, WW, or even TP darks (i'm sorry TP). What we DO have are:
Dink - OoT. his name makes him sooo mad, but it grows on him Malachite (aka Mal) - ALttP/FS Azurite - ALttP/FS Garnet - ALttP/FS Amethyst (aka Grimace) - ALttP/FS. yeah there's 4 of them, they're feral Dave - OoA. his placeholder name got stuck </3 he's silly like that, also an annoyance Shade - ALBW+TFH. knows politeness and manners, has decided they're optional, he is down to fight at all times Guard - TAoL. his morals are your morals your majesty ^_^ Gray - FSA. heavily based on the manga. still figuring out feelings Onyx - ST. he's like if a soot sprite from totoro had no fear and could maim you Summon - HW. he is such a violent, angry person but the devotion is insane + Delta (aka Marionette/Mari) - TotK phantom puppet. almost had matching names with Dink, but the guys respect/love her aura of bloodlust way too much for that. + Ravio - ALBW. he's not even slightly evil, did not get himself into this situation and is having a very hard time getting himself out.
The 'how' of their meeting is something or other—some residue of Ganon or Demise's influence, like grease on the timeline if you will—got the brilliant idea of recreating and gathering dark reflections of the hero from previous plots. It misunderstood who Ravio was since Lorule is/was a 'dark world', and thought Delta deserved the chance to actually attack people.
It then used whatever power left to give them an item for time travel. But the ganon grease didn't secure the full group's loyalty, so now they've been let loose on the timelines to track down and kill the Links their own way, without order, with only Ravio and Gray to stop them.
At first it was just about keeping the peace and biding time to escape or take the group out, but after seeing some of them learn and change Ravio is attached and Gray kinda wants to show them the world. It's really a conundrum.
To end it off (I'll probably make even more detailed posts another time), some funnies that came about in the planning stages of this:
Ravio: *accidentally found families your evil doppelgangers*
Delta: what do you have there? Ravio, drink in hand, trying to hide a Link behind him: an evil root beer
Gray, back in his time, kicking Link's door open: LINK HOLY FUCK
Gray: if i had a rupee for every time a violet boy lied to gain my trust and double-crossed me i'd have two rupees. which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice
Gray: what is it with violet bitches and going undercover?! Ravio: I DIDN'T DO IT ON PURPOSE
Mal: this is my emotional support cold bastard Azurite: this is my emotional support slippery bastard
Shade: you should be addicted to shutting the fuck up Dave, signing: you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid
Onyx: (⓿_⓿) Onyx: (◕_◕) Onyx: (◉_◉) Summon: stop Onyx: (ㆆ_ㆆ)
Mal: what do you have?! Dink: A BOMB Mal, Ravio and Shade: NO! Azurite: oh my darkness why does he have a bomb? (Gray did it)
Dink, young adult: i'm having a midlife crisis Gray: aren't you like, five? Dink, young adult?: i'm eleven so shut the fuck up
Delta, referring to the darks: my henchmen
"Wow these people are so weird, thank Ganon I'm the only normal one" - pretty much all of them
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dianewritesstuff · 1 year
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Hello stranger,
I'm going to let you in on a little secret.
Most days, I don't know myself, I often only manage to piece together fractions that leave me feeling like a shell floating in an ocean 
But I'm going to tell you what I think I know anyway 
My favorite color is gray. By any shade.
I can't explain why, but everytime I try to reason this, I realise it may have to do with a white line ,a black line and the many miles of empty fields in between. I think it's because I acknowledge my failures as a person without being too confident about the few noble traits if any exist.
My favorite music is usually sad music.
I guess it's easier to live my life in the poetic irony of a sad existence so I won't disappoint myself too often. And I think it's easier to accept sadness than it is to let go of happiness.
I fall in love way too easily. But sadly, I lose a piece of myself with every author or fictional character I get infatuated with.
I bet you weren't expecting that,  but love doesn't come quite as easy in the real world. Because my heart is a whore to the land of fantasy and whoever pulls the strings on all fiction.
My sensuality is a shamble of miscalculated fails. I bet that's the curse of being a dreamer.
No reality is ever enough to fix an ever morphing dream.
My personality consists of a curious mix between miss independent tough nails bitch and a sad little girl clinging onto emotions that only exist in my head. I can hardly explain that one.
Maybe- dear stranger, you will find the missing piece to this awkward puzzle you hoped you wouldn't have the misfortune of landing on today or maybe this will all seem too shallow and unimportant for you to indulge. I hope you think it's the former.
©️dianewritesstuff
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ajournalingtrex · 2 years
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AND SEVENTEEN DAYS UNTIL PRESEASON OH MY GOD LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL !!!!!!! LIFE MIGHT ACTUALLY REALLY SUCK AND I MIGHT WANT TO D1E A BIT ALL THE TIME BUT PRESEASON IS BEAUTIFUL !!!!!!! I!!!! LOVE!!!!! PRESEASON!!!!!
preseason is a gift. proof that there may be a god and that life may be okay. those invited (our student leaders, our graying athletes, the freshmen who have no idea what they’re getting into—trust me i was one of those kids—on campus faculty, and the football team. ), god what an incredible mix it is. an amalgamation of wonderful delightful people every time. it’s such a quiet campus but you know you’re not alone and 70-80 people are in just the same boat as you and it’s comforting.
((most of them are just starting their summer reading just like me, too.))
we throw ourselves at each other and at our rooms and at our teachers that first day, just how it normally is but easier on the social anxiety. we get the afternoon to set up and then we have meetings to go over the rules so that way they wouldn’t have to give it to us again when the rest got here. it felt like we were the guinea pigs, the men at the birth of time. the ones who knew how everything worked before the rest of the world and were—more often than not—the reason that the rules would be changed for the rest of the group. if you’re lucky, you don’t have practice until day 2. i normally don’t possess such fortune.
practice. the only thing any of us have to report for. for my team, that was 10-11:30 conditioning and 3-4:30 field work every day, and twice in that week we had 7-8:30 to continue our progress. it’s exhilarating, the only way to describe it. but maybe that’s because i’m an addict and my drug of choice is the same as it was when i was 10. sprints are no fun but we’re together and we’re laughing, and i get so drunk off the buttercup yellow and fluorescent green swimming through the air around me that i don’t care about how i’m going to puke up a dining hall muffin or how my shirt is an entirely different shade from sweat or how my ankle definitely didn’t hurt like that before.
we indoctrinate the new people with our questions of your favorite smell and then tossing you the unwashed pennies (even though we’re a team that cheers when you make a bad shot because we just can’t get enough of each other), and we reminisce about the games of old and the teams that brought us to tears last year—how 10 called me a bitch for elbowing them and 4 laughed at me getting carded because that’s absolutely something 4 would do god what a prick but it’s okay i think they graduated—and the injuries that took people out and how they’re just not allowed to happen again.
and the playing. holy shiting fuck. being one of the callout defensive players on the team, i take it as the time to introduce myself to everyone and get my bearings of who i’m working with; who’ll listen to advice and who’ll give me that furrowed eyebrow look for daring to question their stance; who’s a baby deer walking on ice for the first time and how can i help make this just a little bit easier for them; who’s getting of play time and where will coach put them; who am i getting paired with a lot and how can i adapt to their play style.
((since being drafted as sweep, this is my goalie. and after one week of hours on end with each other, both of us with the same goal in every drill and joking beside each other when the offense are being run into the ground. last year, she became my son by day three and by day 5 we scrimmaged in matching bathing suits and i turf burned all down my arm, and even though we didn’t win she cites that as the moment i became her person.))
((this year? i’m not allowed to get concussed because she needs me. she needs me out there. i missed her first season and she told me i owed it to her and that we needed to form the same synchronization we barely brushed last year before the accident. for this one green, sky blue, and red-orange week of the year, that kid is my everything. her thoughts are my thoughts, my calls are hers. i promised her we would have it this year, so whatever may happen to me and my destructive tendencies both on and off the field, i’m giving it to her.))
i get pads and pads of paper and i draft roster after roster, trying to get into the head of my former advisor while giving advice she’ll never hear to as many people who will possibly listen to me. i wave my hands around over orange chicken and jasmine rice and blue gatorade and chick fil a milkshakes and talk only of the future, the school year, the season, my family and my team-family and ways that things are green and shiny and bright.
((something a coach said to me last year will always stick with me. when conferencing with me about my role on the team, she said that during the season but especially during preseason, my eyes never sparkle more.))
my favorite day is when it rains. every year there’s always one. the day everyone dreads but i ADORE. last year the power went out, and it got me out of everything but practice. i didn’t mind, though. i never could on rain days.
we’re all outside going through the same downpour and it’s cold and your tank top is sticking to you in the wind, but the air is hot so it’s refreshing. and it sucks to be out there in the rain with your soreness and your slightly off shots and your feet slipping all over the turf (or getting mud in places you’ll talk about only in the locker room) but your heart is absolutely glowing because you’re doing what you love with amazing people in the greatest place you’ve ever been and even if you eat shit 5–10–20 more times, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. because life is good. there’s something in life to look forward to, and it’s you and your team against the elements: training and fucking up and learning from it to grow and to be the best. your eyes are still shiny and you’re alight with heart fire.
because that’s really what preseason is about: heart fire. finding something that makes you feel good about yourself and feel strong and confident and together to just set you ablaze.
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seokahwrites · 3 years
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NUISANCE | chapter 1 (or, human walls and steak fungi)
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pairing.
| lawyer! jeon jungkook x lawyer! reader (feat. ex! kim taehyung)
summary.
| all you wished for was a relaxing two weeks in a big ass boat eating some big ass shrimps, away from the real world. but instead you’re stuck with your arch rival with no means of escape — and goddamit why does the bastard smell so good
tags.
| the spice has commenced; POUTY JUNGKOOK???; hunky jungkook?; jungkook?; jungkook in a suit; a LOT of jungkook; pouty reader; stressed out reader; use of the words dick and cooch; use of the word satan (to refer to kim seokjin ofc); KIM SEOKJIN IS THE REAL MAIN CHAR; poor joon is a victim; JUNGKOOK WEARING EARRINGS AND BRACELETS; taehyung is nice (?) (¿question mark?)
a/n.
| this writing was sponsored by red bull, alcohol and fantasies of casual jungkook as well as jungkook in a suit. also, jungkook’s smile is described as tight lipped bc his signature smile appearing is important to the story. also i wanna know y’all’s thoughts on tae. BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY THANK U FOR THE COTINUOUS SUPPORT AND LOVE, I WILL CONTINUE TO GIVE MY BEST AND THANK U FOR READING MY STORY <333
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Having once spent a sleepless night reading Dante’s inferno, you were well aware of the fact that there are 9 layers of hell.
Though, it seemed the old man had forgotten about the tenth circle: Anywhere with Jeon Jungkook.
Since the first time you met him, you never had any reason to believe that he was a humble character. He had always looked at you from the top of his high horse and he took much pride in trotting on it.
As you, Jungkook and the receptionist wait for the elevator, the air thick with discomfort, you look at the man in front of you and remember that first time.
Your head is invaded with the memory of you in your Hello Kitty pajamas, adorned with grease and all, as you worked on a divorce case that causes you migraines to this day — love is a bitter bitch. It must’ve been past midnight when you and Jin were chewing away pizza slice after pizza slice at the office.
Then, there’s a knock at the door.
“If that’s Namjoon I’m literally going to fire you,” you bark at Jin as you hold his leftover crust on one hand and a document on the other.
And Jin, being the smart ass he is and knowing you wouldn’t survive a day without him, gets up from your leather couch without a word and opens the door, launching himself at none other than Kim Namjoon.
You roll your eyes at the love birds while wondering when the fuck their honeymoon phase was gonna end. You were so sick of them.
“Y/N,” Jin calls you from your desk, urging you to come to the door and once you’re beside him, this time with a cup of coke in your hands, “Can you keep them entertained for a bit? I just gotta grab Namjoon’s meds.”
Before you could say no, the little devil was already running off to his own cubicle, leaving you alone with the all familiar Namjoon and a very much not familiar stranger.
You lean on the doorframe without uttering a single word, sipping on your drink as well as the stranger — Sure, looking back at the moment you kinda just wanna punch yourself in the cooch and tell yourself to get a grip, but you weren’t blinded with hatred at the time, and also not blind — because it isn’t every night that a man clad in a charcoal suit and an unbuttoned shirt, comes knocking at your door; not to mention his watch dazzled under the artificial light and he held the blue tie in his hand with just the right grip.
You’re snapped out of your daze when the man goes from checking the time to whispering something in Namjoon’s ear, covering it the same way eight year olds cover their own secrets, and he laughs. This would all be good and well if he hadn’t looked at you with such appall in his eyes the moment before, the look still clear as day in your mind.
You're reminded that your makeup was probably smudged from all the times you had rubbed your eyes, your skin oily from the tiresome day and you were wearing Hello Kitty pajamas.
Maybe you shouldn’t have taken the insult so personally, but you did.
“I’m here,” Jin is back, a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder as the other one passes him a lunchbox of cold medicines, “What did I miss?”
At this you look up from the pitiful ground, pulling Jin back to your office, and accidentally spill (or throw) your coke at the stranger. You watch in delight as he looks at his very expensive looking suit drenched in a sticky brown, utter terror in his eyes, inhaling the wonderful moment for a second before shutting the door in his face.
The consequences of your actions: an almost two-year long rivalry with the stranger, revealed to be Jeon Jungkook moments after the incident when Jin asked, “Did you just throw your drink at Namjoon’s boss, you crazy bitch?”
And that wave has rippled to this day, in the form of insults and high-school level teasing (if his brain had even evolved to that age). The words “I’ll have you all to myself’ comes to mind; it makes you puff with exasperation. Sure it comes off a little flirty to unknowing ears, but it was just another reminder of Jungkook’s dismay — and that he had an all new access to torture you.
You attempt to shake the ick from your body, but in a trice you found yourself in front of the suite, the four floors you travelled to get there seemingly a glitch in time.
Isabelle scans the room card in front of the handle, handing it over to Jungkook after the green beep. “This is your room!”
You shove Jungkook aside, pulling your trolley as you enter. You had seen the pictures before, but seeing the grand room before your eyes in all of its shades of brown and gray dispersed throughout the walls and furniture, the intricate branch of lights in the ceiling and the panoramic ocean view that gave it its name; it made you forgot who you were sharing it with for a moment.
When you turn around, Jungkook is as wide eyed as you, and it makes the corners of your mouth lift ever so slightly because he looks like a fucking dork.
“Well,” Isabelle is smiling and you could sense her relief of not having to deal with the two of you anymore, “If you need anything, me and the rest of the Royal Sunrise team are available at all times, have fun!”
And just like that, she made her escape, leaving you and Jungkook standing in the middle of the room, alone.
For a moment you shut your eyes as hard as you can, scrunching your face with your fists up, in hopes that a miracle happens and Jungkook disappears. You have been having some odd dreams lately, maybe this was just—
Nope. He’s still there.
Since his eyes seem to have wandered too far, you call out his name to bring him back to earth, crossing your arms when his gaze lands on you, “We should probably talk about a few things.”
He drops the backpack from his back as he nods.
“First of all, the sleeping situation—“
“Yeah, I already thought of that,” he walks to the (very cramped) couch on the other side of the room and pats the armrest, “I’ll take this wonderful bed.”
You look at him with quizzical eyes, wondering how the hell was he of all people going to fit there. But it wasn’t really of your concern if he wanted to get scoliosis, he had made his decision.
“Plus, you need beauty sleep much more than me.”
What a waste of oxygen.
You shrug off his words, immune to his childish remarks at this point, “Okay, then. Next on the list, eating arrangements.”
At this point he’s picking up his things and placing them in his territory, “Why is that on the list?”
You move closer to the windows, a little excited when you see the balcony — you would use it to either push your roommate into the cold ocean or catch up on a few books, tough choice. “Because the tables are arranged by rooms.”
You felt the confusion in his eyes poking at your back, so you turn, “That means that we need to share a table for the next few days, dipshit.”
Jungkook shakes his body in agony, throwing a tiny tantrum, “Why is that even a thing?” He whined.
When you feel a headache coming, you grab your own luggage and place it on top of the bed, opening it up and digging in the pockets for a little bit of liquid luck. God knew you needed it.
You down the sample of Jack Daniels in one go with a bitter face and a blow of air.
“Really?”
You start picking out your pajamas for the night, “I was saving it for when I’d find a hot stranger by the pool but—,” when you look up and see the mess on Jungkook’s couch, you’re taken aback, “What in the world is that?”
Jungkook’s hands are rummaging through the jungle that were his things, and it’s obvious that he just shoved as many clothes as he could find lying around the house. He grabs hold of a white tee, “What?”
Again, a waste of—
“WOAH, WOAH, WOAH.”
In the roll of an eye Jungkook’s torso is fully exposed, his back turned towards you with all of its bumps and mumps looking right at you. And you only become aware that you are staring when Jungkook notices the lack of a comeback, pointing it out with a smug tone.
“Y/N,” he doesn’t turn but he snaps you out of your stunned state all the same, “I can practically hear you drooling.”
At the very next instant you cover your eyes, just as little kids do when an inappropriate scene comes on the TV. “You wish, jackass,” and it comes off a little shoutier than you expected, as if the lack of visual correlated with the volume of your voice. Blindly, you grab your shirt and shorts from the bed and run to the bathroom, which just had to be on Jungkook’s side of the room.
And things take a turn for the worse when you run into something, and that something is warm and firm and breathing.
“Uh—.”
Pain.
You convince yourself it was just an invisible, Jungkook shaped wall they failed to mention on the website and fling yourself to the bathroom door, finding the handle rather quickly from all the adrenaline.
Once you’ve slammed the door shut, you let your back slide against the wooden slab and your ass hit the marble floor.
The clothes are still in your grip, your left hand feeling your overheating cheeks and for a tick you think that maybe, just maybe, you should throw yourself into the water and let the sharks take you so you could be buried at the very depths of the ocean. It seemed like a better fate than whatever the fuck was awaiting you the next two weeks.
You take a deep breath in, letting your mind focus on something else.
You look around and, oh, wow. Even the bathroom was charming — if you could ignore the absurd amount of windows, any sea creature passing by would surely see more than they should — glass making up all of the walls, including the shower’s.
The exposure that surrounds you, in its own weird way, cleared up your head the tiniest bit and for the first time since you’ve arrived, you were able to think, only the ocean and its blue around you now.
And what would be your first course of action after a glimpse of clarity?
Calling that rat bastard assistant of yours, of course.
You stand up and place your phone atop the hazel counter after clicking contact name ‘Twinky’, out of fear you’d smash the damn thing when you hear his voice, smoke was bursting at the seams of your chest. Prepare to meet your end, Kim Seokjin—
“Good evening, Ms. Y/N. For what reason are you contacting me in the midst of your vacation?”
Breathe in, breathe out. “Don’t get all formal with me, Kim,” you’re wagging your finger to no one, “I know you did something. Confess.”
The obnoxious twirling of Jin’s chair could be heard through the speaker, “I’ve no idea of what you could possibly be talking about, Madam—“
“Confess.”
“Fine, fine,” you could picture Jin putting his hands up at your murderous tone, “Me and Joon just thought it was about time you two kids got together.”
You take a pause from your pacing around. Motherfucker.
“Okay! I thought it was time and convinced Namjoon to go along with it,” your fist meets the counter with an audible thump, and you were seethed at the probability of Jin smiling at your behaviour. “Speaking of it, how’s it going?”
“Well, Jin,” you place the microphone as near to your mouth as possible, “JEON JUNGKOOK IS TAKING OFF HIS CLOTHES IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING ROOM,” you put on a docile face and naturally assume that Jin could see you telepathically, “So you tell me how it’s going.”
For the first time since you hired him, you had left Jin speechless. Or so you thought.
“I didn’t know you would move this fast—“
“Jin.”
“I apologise, I apologise,” the witch cackles, “But you didn’t give me any context, I only assumed the best.”
“Spare me from your taunts, you hag,” you huff and roll your eyes, “And, as I’ve told you many times before, Jeon Jungkook is literally the worst. I hate—.”
“—him. Yes, Y/N, I’ve been hearing the same speech every single day for two years,” you could hear Jin walking back and forth before an abrupt pause, “Listen to yourself, Y/N, you brought this upon yourself. Whenever you saw or just remembered Jungkook existed you wouldn’t stop talking about him. So, being the good friend I am, I handed you his—,” you rush in a failed attempt to muffle his next words with your hand, “—dick on a silver platter.”
Oh, dear lord.
“You’re out of your mind if you think I wanna be anywhere near Jungkook’s—,” you speak in a hushed tone, “—thing.”
“See, you can’t even say it,” and you give up, because no matter how many times you denied it, Jin never let up. “Anyway, I gotta go and… take a call. Have fun!”
And he hangs up.
All you can do is groan, making a mental note that you oughta kick Jin in the balls one of these days, and you look at yourself in the mirror — you couldn’t even enjoy your tacky shirt because of him. Was a normal vacation really too much to ask for?
You remember that the universe had already answered your question with a big yes, and you can’t help but pout.
Still, ever the changing mind, were you really going to let the universe win?
Your pout turns into a smirk. Of course, you weren’t. All you needed to do was avoid Jungkook as much as possible, that would be easy for sure, you were on a gigantic cruise ship after all.
Yeah, this can still be great.
And so, quick to think as always, you grab your phone and scroll through the Royal Sunrise website.
To your luck, the cruise offered classes and activities of all types with a different theme each day — tomorrow is cooking. Not only was it going to be actually entertaining, you could avoid Jungkook without having to look behind you every other minute.
Genius.
With this new mindset and plan, you change into your oversized navy shirt and banana-printed shorts, a newfound excitement in your step. You even bang your chest with each of your fists, a gorilla-esque fighting technique if you shall, as a way to pump you up.
The door doesn’t seem as intimidating when you push it open, your arms swinging at your side as if you were one of the seven dwarves. This was good.
Immediately you're met with the vexing view of Jungkook, and you quirk your eyes when you notice that all he was wearing was a pair of gray shorts and that white tee, the oddity of it all iffy in your head since you’ve only ever seen him in suits and shirts. There’s a familiar tingling of (what you always assumed was) contempt in your fingertips and toes, one that would only ever occur with Jungkook. Hatred finds a way, huh.
He looks at you, back to his phone and back to you all in one second, and once his brain processes that you’re back and present, he ditches his phone and props himself up on one elbow. “You know the walls aren’t that thick, right?”
The tingle turns into a twitch and you almost hit yourself. Breathe, Y/N.
Jungkook sits up, crossing his arms, his eyes wandering once again, “I knew that Namjoon was planning something. He was sweating so much, I thought it was just the heat,” and they land back on you, “Turns out, it was betrayal.”
You head to your own king-sized resting place and a chuckle slips out of you at Jungkook’s little remark. “You did hear that Jin was the one who dragged him into this, right?”
You’re both pulling your covers over your bodies with silent grins due to the dumbassery of your assistants, “I assumed as much.” At this, your smiles become full-out laughs and your heads must have been too exhausted to dwell on the out of character situation.
It fades after a few seconds and you take one final look at Jungkook before turning off the lights, only to make sure he was already laid down.
Your anxiety comes back to the surface, your eyes staring blankly ahead at the ceiling.
“What a mess,” you don’t even notice you had blurted it out loud.
The rustling of sheets sounds through the otherwise cricket-silent room, “Tell me about it.”
Another chuckle.
“Jungkook,” you call him, the words coming out with no warning, “Can we just promise, no monkey business? I just really wanna relax and—.”
“Y/N,” he stops you before you could yap any further, “No monkey business.”
His interruption makes you sheepish, that tingle coming back as you fiddle with the sheets.
All of the sudden, “Good night, Y/N.”
Silence.
“Don’t be a killjoy.”
Groan. There really isn’t any reason for you to answer the prick. Still, you roll your eyes, “Good night, you troll.”
You hear his pleased sigh.
“Kinda bummed you don’t want my thing, though.”
Damn you, Kim Seokjin.
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Your eyes flutter open, not with the calming sound of the dancing waves or the rustling of the sheets beside you from a happy hour mistake, no. You wake up with the sound of the shower running, the drip drop of the water meeting the glass floor of the bathroom.
The walls are very thin.
The image of a very naked Jungkook just next door is forced into your head, and you try to get rid of it by putting a pillow over your face, in hopes that it would put an end to your misery, but the world only gives a hundred problems and zero solutions.
Sat up, you remind yourself of the fresh-new mindset you had implemented yesterday, and this motivates you to restart your morning right and get dressed for the busy day ahead.
You squat down to your bag, grabbing the first jumpsuit and shoes in front of you, surprisingly not too shabby. The black off-shoulder fabric was adorned with pale pink flowers and your basic white sneakers didn’t add much but they were still a welcome fit — you’d only brought three pairs of shoes, so you didn’t really have much of a choice.
The background noise of the shower running disappears.
Shit.
You stumble around the room, trying to switch out of your clothes as fast as you possibly could to avoid any of yesterday’s incidents repeating, the need of any sort of grooming forgotten along the way. Still, you succeeded, and just as Jungkook unlocked the bathroom door, you were out of the room.
The joy in your step was back as you took the few steps needed to the elevators, pressing that little button of victory. Though you’ve been to countless luxury premises, the details of each place still managed to leave you awestruck, and the black railing and golden walls of the ship with decoration clearly inspired by the Romans, weren’t an exception.
The elevator was going from the sixth floor to the fifth when you heard a door open, the hairs of your back standing up out of instinct.
“Wait up!”
Fuck me.
You turn to the left, met with the, once again, odd view of Jeon Jungkook wearing casual clothes, this time in a charcoal shirt a few sizes too big, black cargo pants and signature chunky shoes. But, there’s something even more strange and you can’t quite put a finger to it, it isn’t the fact his lavish watch was replaced with leather braids on his wrist or that his hairs strayed a bit more wildly, it’s—
“Holy shit,” your eyes shoot wide open, “Are those hoops?”
Your hands almost go to touch the silver in his ears, but you remind yourself you’d probably turn to stone.
An unfamiliar red paints Jungkook’s face as his own fingers prod at the earrings, his eyes not meeting yours, “Maybe.”
A gasp. “How did I never notice,” you state more than ask, but Jungkook answers all the same.
“I mean, I never wear them to anything work-related because keeping a professional image and all of that,” he looks at you, his bashfulness fading into an all-knowing smile, “And those are the only times I see your bitter face.”
You scoff, “Wow, actually we talked like normal people for a whole thirty seconds.”
The imp has the audacity to laugh at your face, the way he stops to scan you up and down going unnoticed by your sight. “I gotta say, Y/N, you actually know how to dress—“
Ding.
The black tinted doors open to the glass elevator, a panorama of all the ship’s floors in full display, blue and purple lights reflecting on the gilded ornaments. Your hands rest on the black railing and you don’t even notice there’s another person in the elevator.
“Y/N?” The deep timbre of the voice is all too easy on your ears.
A slight turn to the right is all it takes to see him, fluffy ash hair (that was rough between your fingers from all the times he had dyed it), a shirt that flowed like the clouds and beige slacks that matched with the sepia of his sandals (an ensemble that contrasted the vibrant version of him in your memory). But that square grin was still the same.
“Tae?” You laugh in utter disbelief, “Kim Taehyung?”
“Come here!” His long arms bring you into a hug and with your head nuzzled against his chest, his heartbeat echoed good times, easier times that weren’t filled with paperwork and suits.
It’s interrupted by your forgotten acquaintance clearing his throat.
You pull away, recomposing yourself as you stand beside Taehyung, “Jungkook, this is Kim Taehyung,” you feel Taehyung’s eyes on you, “He was kind of my college boyfriend.”
They shake hands and look back at you, as if waiting for something.
“Uh— Right. Tae, this is Jungkook, my—,” you glance at the brunet to find the right words, “—co-worker, of sorts.”
Your embarrassment only deepens when you remember that the Jeon Jungkook was a first-hand witness to the mess you were melting into in front of your ex-boyfriend.
Who needed caffeine when shit like this kept happening to you.
“Oh,” Taehyung’s voice drops an octave as he shoves his hands in his pockets, “So you two came together?”
And you wave your arms around to signal a ‘no’, but it comes off as ‘that-one-crackhead-at-the-corner-of-the-street-ish” instead. “God, no,” you snort, much to your chagrin.
Taehyung sticks his tongue between his teeth, staring down at Jungkook who was chewing on his own bottom lip, “That’s good to hear.”
It seems you’ve regressed to your college-self, tucking your hair behind your ear with blushed cheeks at your senior.
Ding.
The elevator had arrived at the first floor, Jungkook’s cue to leave.
But he doesn’t make a straight itinerary, instead standing in front of the elevator, “Aren’t you gonna catch breakfast, chump?”
Ah, right. Your genius plan could finally come out in the open, “No, actually. I have an all-day cooking class on the 5th floor.”
“No kidding,” Taehyung turns to you and places a hand on your bare shoulder with a wide smile, “Me too!”
At this, Jungkook’s shoulders slump and his expression falls flat, but you couldn’t get a word in as the elevator doors closed and he swiveled away to his own day.
Eh, it’s not like it was your affair anyways. Plus, 9AM wasn’t the hour to deal with his bullshit.
You and Taehyung made your way up, speaking of all the things you’ve been up to for the past three years.
“So, Jimin’s dancing in Europe,” you gasp, a swell of pride in your chest, your old friend would talk about it every free night he spent in yours and Taehyung’s flat.
“Yeah, now I don’t know who’s keeping an eye on all the dumb shit he does.”
The weight on your shoulders only got lighter with every laugh you shared with Taehyung, sweet nostalgia.
“We’re here,” you point at the chalk sign, the words ‘Bon Appetit’ scribbled on it.
Out of sheer intuition, you pull Taehyung by the wrist until you reach the entrance, a Royal Sunrise worker awaiting with a list of, what could only be, the names of the participants.
You let go of Taehyung when the man’s eyes travel to your holding hands. Oh, God.
He smiles, “Good morning, Mr. and Ms. What would your names be?”
“Good morning, I’m Y/N Y/LN,” your smile hadn’t left your face, “I signed up yesterday.”
He nods and you walk inside, Taehyung following you before the worker puts up a hand to stop him.
“Your name, sir,” his tone changes..
You look back, wondering what the fuss was about.
“Uh— Kim Taehyung.”
The man reads over the clipboard, even flipping to the previous pages. “Excuse me, Mr. Kim. But your name doesn’t seem to be in the—.”
Taehyung’s calm demeanour becomes a bitter scowl as he pats a fifty dollar note down the man’s pocket before he could continue his speech. “Just let this one slide, buddy.”
The sight is a bit rough on the eyes and the corners of your lips turn downwards, something itching at your throat, but you hadn’t seen him in a long time and he most likely had good intentions with the man, you could let it slide, right?
“So,” Taehyung rubs his hands with a smile that reaches the pillows of his eyes, a 360° from the him you saw a few seconds ago, “Where were we?”
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The blue of the sky had faded into a deep lilac once you and Taehyung were finished with your last batch of food.
You stood outside with smiles plastered on your faces and flour sprinkled on your hair, reminders of a day well-spent.
“This was great,” you held boxes of chocolate crepes and mushroom pasta, “Except for the fact I was forced to eat and deal with mushrooms.”
Taehyung’s eyebrows pull together, “So many years together, and I didn’t know you hated mushrooms,” you remember telling him countless times, but he never had the best memory — you don’t bother to bring up your hatred for crepes. “But, yeah… I think it was the company that sealed the deal, though.”
A beat of silence. The boy was smooth as ever.
You’re the first to break it. “I guess I’ll go get dinner then.”
“Right, right,” he purses his lips, “I’m gonna catch a nightcap, too full for food anyways. See you, Y/N.”
And you only mumble a small goodbye before you and Taehyung are going different directions.
A day well spent indeed.
Grumble.
You couldn’t keep it in anymore.
Holy Moses, were you hungry as shit. Who knew that barely eating breakfast and lunch could do this to a person.
Once the coast is clear, you run to the elevator, pressing the button repeatedly because why is this thing so fucking slow.
The time taken to go down to the first floor is even more agonising, but you just imagined the wonderful meals that actually tasted like food waiting for you downstairs. You could feel the pork melting in your mouth already.
Ding.
Since the first floor is more packed, you pace yourself as you power-walk to the dining area but you arrive in no time, walking through the tables and scanning each marker for the number 83, until you finally find your salvation — and the mop of brown hair sitting there with its unmistakable silver.
You park your ass on the wooden chair and place the white boxes of gag-worthy food on the table.
“Fancy meeting you here, Y/N,” Jungkook shoves a fork of rare steak and potatoes in his big mouth.
“Don’t antagonise me, Jungkook,” you leap to grab his wrist before he can get another scoop, “Where’s the food?”
You feel him tense under your grip, “Okay, let go of me, hungry hungry hippo,” you loosen your fist and lean back on your chair with crossed arms, “And the restaurant is out of steaks for the night, your only other option is some fried fish or something,” he continues munching.
“No—,” your head meets the table with a bang, “—I’ve been dreaming of red meat all day.”
“Didn’t you cook at— you know, cooking class?”
“Yes, we did,” you sit up and shove the boxes of trash to Jungkook as he examines them.
“But, you hate mushrooms and crepes,” he turns his head in a robotic motion when he opens the lids.
Your hunger fades for a bit as that tingle in your fingertips pushes you to sit straight, leaning your head like a curious puppy.
“How do you know that?”
Jungkook bites his bottom lip as he seems to think of a response. “Well, you mentioned it at the Law & Practice Awards a few months ago,” he rubs his fingers on his chin with a feign look of concentration, “I believe your exact words were: ‘Why does the stake have fungus on it’ and ‘Everybody knows that crepes are just a—.”
“—a cheap version of pancakes,” you finish his sentence with surprise painted on your face. Still, you question him, “But, how do you even remember that?”
Jungkook’s flush is back on his cheeks, “As they say, keep your friends close,” he flashes that tight lipped smile of his, “And your enemies closer.”
Just as you were about to flip the fucker off, your stomach grumbles. Out of all of the moments it could’ve complained, it decided to do so in the only second of silence.
Jungkook mumbled something along the lines of “That’s it,” under his breath and let out a sharp exhale, cutting up his steak and taters and pushing them into a smaller plate, adding a few greens in the mix. He snaps his fingers at the nearest waiter and grabs a glass of wine from his tray. The act finishes off with him pushing the food in your direction.
You stare at the food, at Jungkook and back at the plate again. Dumbfounded, once again.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Eat,” he continues on with his dinner as if he hadn’t just done— Well, what he just did.
You bite your lip and bow your head slightly, though you’re sure he doesn’t see it, before vacuuming the food directly into your belly.
The rest of the evening is spent in comfortable silence, no daggers threatened to be thrown or scorn weighing in the air. This lasts all the way to the door of the room; you were fine with communicating with only ‘hums’ and nods but Jungkook, as always, had to ruin things.
He leans his back against the white door, arms crossed and a smirk as he looks down at you. “How lucky of you to have your mortal enemy and—,” he puts up air quotes, “‘kind of college boyfriend’ in the same boat as you, huh?”
You palm your face and hide a sheepish smile, “I was hoping you’d forget about that.”
“How could I when I was your special guest to first hand embarrassment in the elevator,” he waves the white flag of peace as he puts his hands up, “But, hey—“
“Hi, Jungkook,” someone behind you purrs, heels clacking.
You turn around and see a woman of jet-black hair in a stunning red silk dress, the pony-tail on her head swinging a delicate left to right as she waved her manicured hand at none other than Jungkook — who brushes a hand through his hair before complimenting her greeting.
It takes you by surprise, though you laughed at Jungkook’s gnarly stance at the beautiful woman, the tingle comes back, this time prickling at the pit of your stomach.
As soon as she had walked away, you rubbed your hands at the sides of your arms, “Wow, Jungkook. Moving fast are we?” you squint your eyes, “I think it’s the earring.”
“First of all, screw you,” he unlocks the door, “Second, that’s nothing, trust me.”
He holds the door open for you and you catch a whiff of his black vanilla scent. You stop in your tracks and place a hand on his shoulder with a grimace on your face, “Just don’t do anything on my bed, okay?”
You don’t bother to wait for an answer as you head to the bathroom with your comfy tee in your hands.
This time, the counter was embellished with skincare and cologne galore, all thanks to your dear roommate.
“He wouldn’t notice if I used some of this, right?” You say to Jungkook’s bottle of cleanser, too lazy to go back and grab your own toiletries.
“If you use that I’m drowning myself,” you hear him shout from the other room.
Sorry, face. You’ll have to wait for tomorrow.
Once you were snug in your tee, you were off to bed — Jungkook in the same attire as yesterday as well.
You leave the lamp on as you checked your phone for the first time since yesterday. Of course, Jin was your only notification, a plethora of obscenities and questions that would, unfortunately, be permanently ingrained in your mind forever. You turn off your phone and throw it on top of the night stand.
Not today, satan.
“You mind?” You ask Jungkook who seemed to be scrolling away, too engrossed in his phone to look at your finger pointing at the light, only a grunt on his behalf.
You turn it off and shut your eyes, your body tense, not that you weren’t used to it, the decaying muscles of your back have been like that since you graduated high-school. And, it was a bit more intense from all the mixing and pot handling — thank the heavens that tomorrow’s activities involved massaging. Though, today was a win.
Jungkook’s phone turns off and his body sloshes around, the sounds he makes the only ones reverberating in the room.
“Good night, Y/N,” you try to ignore him, but he comes forward with a good case, “Come on, I gave you my food.”
Guilt tripper.
“Fine, but only because you’re annoying as shit,” he lets out a satisfied breath, “Good night, Jungkook.”
You arrive at dreamland in no time.
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taglist. (open)
| @fangirl125reader / @vantxx95 / @jinpanman / @ggukkieland / @miniiimee / @paizthemaiz
263 notes · View notes
chrisevansgoodgirl · 3 years
Text
killing peggy carter
summary: you want revenge bc steve’s a bitch. (happy times, save for steve’s disappearance. everyone’s alive tho)
warnings: a darker steve. rough smut, a little questionable at times. a lot of angst bc i was in a mood.
pairing: steve rogers x reader, peggy carter x reader for a sec, and some steve x peggy ( 🤢 )
word count: about 9,800
a/n: not tagging anyone bc no one asked for this, i literally just wrote it like forever ago and decided to post it bc i haven’t posted in forever. also, if you go back far enough on my blog, you will see that i watch riverdale and honestly, i came up with this title before jughead wrote his emo story in the finale.
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When Steve left, it was nothing short of devastating.
Your world had stopped. How could it not? You had been under the impression that someone was in love with you as much as you were in love with them. And god, you were so damn in love with Steve Rogers.
It had been a year and it still hurt just like it had that first day. You were better at hiding it now, using that as the only entertainment in your life. Being an Avenger wasn’t the same as it used to be. The world was good, you weren’t needed. Especially not while all these feelings of anger and resentment were growing inside you.
When Steve left, he took a lot. He took your heart, your soul, your fucking will to love and let yourself be loved, and he took your ability to be a hero. No hero had the darkness you had. No hero stayed out most nights dancing in sweaty and noisy clubs, being groped by strangers she couldn’t even take home because she was the definition of damaged. You had trust issues for days, and they weren’t going anywhere any time soon, if ever.
Bucky tried to help and sometimes, you had the energy to fake it. It always made him so happy to see you smiling or just talking to other men who clearly were attracted to you. But nothing would come of it. You couldn’t believe a word that any one of them said.
Steve used to look at you, tell you he loved you, tell he needed you, that he couldn’t do any of this without you. Then he had the chance to go back to Peggy Carter and he took it in a second, no hesitation. He didn’t even say goodbye.
You stayed out on the lake for three months, figuring he’d just gotten tied up. He would come back, you told yourself that every night. What finally broke you was when Nat and Bucky sat you down and told you it wasn’t going to happen. You’d always known but with confirmation from the two people that knew him best, you had to face reality. He’d left you and he wasn’t coming back.
It was a huge hit to your self-esteem. Maybe if you had been prettier. Smarter. Stronger. Better. But you were just you. Petty, small, aching. Ironically, that was how he had found you as well. The Avengers liked to bring in team members who had already been through too much. You hadn’t realized how vulnerable your past trauma made you to their type of coercion. You would do anything any of them asked. With Steve, it was different. More. And he had always known.
There was this pain in your chest that never went away. Sometimes you woke up gasping in the middle of the night, usually after a nightmare. It was as if there had been a hand around your neck. But there wasn’t because you were as alone as anyone could possibly be.
You didn’t mind it anymore. Hell, it was the only thing that you still had left of Steve. You burned everything else and not even that made you feel better. This was all much to Bucky’s dismay.
You would never tell a soul that you couldn’t part with his sketchbooks, that you had them hidden in a box underneath your bed. It was no one’s right to know. This pain was your own, the only thing you still had possession of.
You hadn’t been touched in his absence, even by yourself. It reminded you of all those times he would kiss along your skin and sing praises to your beauty. Sometimes, you wished you were ugly. Sometimes, you wished you could just get so ugly that no one would even want to look at you.
But that was not the case. You were that beautiful, strong, and caring woman Steve had fallen in love with, so they claimed. You were their responsibility. Their project. They would get you through this if it was the last thing they did. Nat, Bucky, and Sam tried merely out of their loyalty to Steve. Tony followed that lead and that meant Peter tried as well as he could. Wanda, still consumed by her own lost love, attempted, but she was probably the only person who could see you for what you were.
Thrown out trash. Abandoned, sharp pieces that could and would cut anyone who tried to help. You hated all the rest of them for not seeing it. You hated all the rest of them because in their eyes, you were still Steve’s girl.
You no longer had a boyfriend, a family, or friends. He took all of that away from you. And one day, when you were so sick of having nothing to do but feel sorry for yourself, you decided that you were going to return that favor.
Steve Rogers deserved to be just as heartbroken and empty as you. It drove you crazy. He had been the one to pursue you. He had been the one to insist that you were his, even said you were the best thing to ever happen to him.
Talking Bruce into helping was laughably easy. You claimed to need closure. You claimed you just wanted to know that Steve was happy. You wanted to tell him you forgave him. Bruce hadn’t seen you look this happy in a long while so he did what anyone would and said yes.
You wanted to wait. Steve was always so sentimental, the anniversary of the day he met Peggy was probably a day of extreme affection in their house. He probably made her breakfast, bought her some piece of jewelry that she wouldn’t even like, and spent all day telling her how much he loved her. You wanted to crash the party.
Part of you wished there was another way to do this, but there just wasn’t. Killing Peggy was the only way to take anything from him, and you had these dark fantasies that he would then kill you in retaliation. What a beautiful way to go, you hoped he would strangle you. You hoped he would set you on his lap one final time, wrap his hands around your neck, and stare into your eyes until you were gone.
Peggy was a great person, that much you felt bad about. But hadn’t Steve practically murdered you? And you were a great person before all of this. An eye for an eye. Did he think you were just going to disappear? No, he wasn’t going to get away with this any longer. He wasn’t going to get his happiness after he had ruined your whole life.
You wanted some years on them, you told Bruce ten years. Steve would be just shy of 50. You wondered what he’d look like. When he left, he had just started to get some gray hairs. You could remember that morning vividly. You wouldn’t have noticed if the sun hadn’t been shining in through the blinds perfectly onto his blonde hair. He blushed about 7 shades of red, but you promised him you didn’t mind. Because you loved him. He said he loved you back. Like an idiot, you believed him.
You arrived in his time with little care to how you looked. You weren’t here for anyone but him. You didn’t mind that everyone was staring at you oddly because instead of some huge, ugly dress, you were wearing black pants, a low-cut t-shirt, and a leather jacket.
You did need a weapon, however. Guns were cowardly. Poison could be fun. A knife, though. A knife would certainly get the point across. You tucked it into your boot and then you were on your way.
You found Peggy’s house easily. Bruce had made sure you knew where you were going and what to do if they had moved or anything like that. You’d known they would be in the same place. You’d known Steve would want to live in this domestic, pathetic lie.
There was a window that looked into the living room. It was mid-day, you figured Peggy was at work. What did Steve even do? Was there a specific activity he liked pairing with all the pure nothingness he was doing while his best friend suffered in Hydra’s hands?
You saw him sitting in a recliner in what you assumed was the living room. His hair was almost all gray, he’d cut it much shorter. Like how he used to have it, before everything with Tony and Bucky. Like how he had it when you met him. His beard was just as light and he had a few prominent wrinkles on his forehead and around his mouth. But that was as far as his aging went. His arms were still huge, his shoulders so broad, and you had the strongest feeling that that ass had held up.
You were about to go in, make your presence known when you realized he was reading a book. Your favorite book. He must have taken it with him because that looked distinctly like one of your many copies you hadn’t seen for quite some time.
You were furious, shaking and seeing red. No matter how hard you tried to breathe, you just couldn’t. You were going to cut Peggy’s heart about and show it to him. You were going to cover that ugly house with her blood. You were going to wreck him just as much as he wrecked you.
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You watched Steve for three months and came to the harrowing conclusion that he was severely unhappy. Peggy would come home and they wouldn’t speak. They would sit down for dinner and say maybe five sentences to one another. They went to bed together, sometimes they had sex. You never stuck around for that because not only was that a major violation of her privacy, but damn, they were fucking boring.
When she woke up in the morning, he wouldn’t get up until she was gone. Then he would go for his run, you followed a couple of times as best you could to see if there was a piece of this puzzle you were missing. When he returned home, he would read or watch television, he went for a second run a few hours later, and returned home to do absolutely nothing but await her return.
Should this have made you happy? It didn’t. He would rather be unhappy with her than happy with you. But that was for one reason: his pride. He didn’t want to crawl back to you and admit that he made a mistake.
Your goals changed. You wanted to make him admit it. Not with words, he would never do that. But Steve was a faithful man. If you got him to stray, it would be indisputable.
You waited one morning until he was out on his run, then snuck into the house. You went through their kitchen, sometimes you moved things just to be a bitch. You went through their bedroom and discovered that Peggy had a terrible contraption that had the audacity to call itself a sex toy. That would be nice to throw in Steve’s face.
You tossed it onto the bed and got undressed as you made your way to the shower. Steve wouldn’t be gone much longer. And he would know something was very wrong when he saw your clothes.
You washed your hair, used Peggy’s soap, and only had to wait a couple of minutes after that. You heard him call out her name a few times. But then he got to the bedroom and you heard his steps hesitating.
“Peggy?”
He wouldn’t say your name, not ever. Because he could be wrong, he could be delusional. And to admit that he was still thinking about you after all this time, that was his idea of a loss.
You didn’t grab a towel as you pulled the shower curtain back and shut off the water. Dripping wet, you carefully padded across the tile floor and then out to the bedroom.
His eyes widened and he dropped to his knees. “What...what are you doing here?”
You shrugged, glancing around. “Thought I deserved a vacation.”
“Y/N, I am so—”
“Pathetic? Weak? Yeah, don’t worry, I know.” You moved closer to him, eyeing him pitifully. You were glad that you hadn’t crumbled. Months ago, you would have given anything just to hear his voice, just to see his fucking eyes. God, you hated him now.
“You’re angry, I understand.”
“Angry?” you scoffed. “Add dumb to the list.”
“I’m sorry that I hurt you—”
“You didn’t hurt me, you piece of shit. You destroyed me, you ruined my life. For all intents and purposes, you killed me. And I’m here to get my revenge.”
His eyebrows pulled together. “Revenge?”
You reached out to touch his face, trailed your fingers along his bottom lip. “Yeah, payback. I’m going to make sure I make you feel what you made me feel.”
He glared up at you. “Are you threatening me?”
“Yes.”
He finally stood, towering over you.
“Mmm, how I’ve missed this body.” You pressed yourself against him and as much as he acted like he didn’t like it, he never pulled away or tried to push you back. You were getting him wet and his shirt was starting to cling to his abs. You let your hands wander for a moment before they dropped down to his pants.
“Stop,” he said quietly.
And you did because you were never going to allow him to lie. Your turned up to him and stepped back.
He looked torn apart, confused. “Why are you here?”
You shrugged. “Why not?”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Well, it’s all you’re getting. You don’t need any other answer.”
“So, what’s the plan? How are you going to get your revenge?”
“I know you, Steve, I know that you believe in being a good and faithful man. I just want you to fuck me. That’s all.”
“Well, you know that’s not going to happen. You know I would never—”
“Cheat? So, then you’ve never fucked Peggy?”
“What?”
“You never left me, you never told me we were done. You, like the coward you are, just didn’t come back. Every time you’ve been with her is a lie, a cheat. You are a cheater.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?! You keep acting like there was just one thing! There were a million things, Steve. You ruined everything that we were building. And you can apologize all you want, but until I return at least half of it, I’m stuck here with you.”
“I won’t fuck you.”
“Yet,” you pointed out. “Well, I should be going.”
He grabbed your arm. “Go home.”
“I am home, baby. You’re here and you’re my home.”
He frowned.
You yanked yourself out of his hold, bending over to grab your clothing all over the room. He wasn’t going to fuck you but that did not mean he wasn’t going to look at you. So, you gave him quite the show, just like you had in the past upon his request.
You disappeared into the bathroom as if it was so natural, as if it was your own. He made no moves to follow and said nothing. As you dried yourself off, you decided now was as good a time as any. “See that terrible thing on your bed?”
You heard him step a few times, then nothing.
You scoffed. “Maybe it has to do with your age.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Still. Pretty creepy you came back to a much younger Peggy.”
“I came back to the one I left.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” You sauntered out and sent him one last smile before exiting the bedroom.
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Peggy and Steve had a fight, so Peggy ducked out to some small diner. If you couldn’t get to him, you decided you were going to get to her. Peggy was sweet from the second you began speaking to her, feigning concern for her situation.
The first night you guys went out together, you wanted her to talk shit about Steve. She didn’t, she just got drunk and tried to get you much the same. You were taking her home because you truly were fearful of what would become of her without your help. And she kissed you. At first, you were startled, you pulled away out of fear and shock. She wasn’t Steve. In all your life since you’d met him, you never thought someone else was going to kiss you.
But then she looked terrified. Had she been reading you wrong? Had she messed everything up? Nah, you were adaptable. You kissed her back, explained you’d been hurt by some loser and it had been a while. She understood, or said she did, and then she was disappearing inside.
You were left wondering if Steve heard you, but not many lights in the house were on. He probably wasn’t home. Confirmed by your unlocked hotel door when you returned home just a couple of hours before sunrise.
Knowing it was him didn’t mean you weren’t going to pull your gun as you entered. He was sitting in one of the chairs at the tiny table near the tiny kitchen.
He arched an eyebrow. “That necessary?”
“I should have shot you the second I got here.” But you still tossed it onto the bed. “You know...this paints quite a scene, doesn’t it? You’re here, angry at me for being out late.” You let your purse fall to the floor, then your hideous cardigan. You had only shown up with one outfit, so shopping was necessary to keep up appearances. You didn’t know a lot about the 40s, but you didn’t want them to start burning women at the stake again because of you.
You made your way to him, straddling his lap as you took his face in your hands. “Are you upset that I broke curfew, daddy?”
He didn’t even bat an eye, but you knew that would get to him. “Where were you?”
“Out with your future wife.” One of many kickers, they had yet to get married. Peggy said it was because she wanted to wait. “Thought she would be willing to talk shit about you...thought it would make me feel better.”
“And? Did she give you anything you can use against me in the future?”
“Nah. She didn’t want to talk about you at all.”
He glared. “When are you going home?”
She shrugged. “Whenever I feel like it.” Your eyes moved over his face as you felt the deeply etched lines on his skin. “You don’t look 50 but I never thought... You remember when I found your gray hair?”
“Yeah... Thought you would leave me...that you’d want someone your age.”
“I like you like this, you know. Twice my age.”
“Have there been others?”
And just like that, the end of your friendly conversation. You pulled your hands away from him but stayed on top of him. “Others?”
“People...men you’ve let close.”
You scoffed. “Why would I do that?”
“I wanted...I thought you would move on.”
“People lie,” you pointed out. “You told me you loved me every day and then you just left. I can’t adequately explain to you how tired I am. I can’t do it again, I can’t even let myself try. I can’t get close to people the way I was close to you. I can’t move on. I can’t love someone else. I can’t do anything but hate you as much as I loved you.”
“I wasn’t lying—”
“You left. If you loved me as much as you said you did, you wouldn’t have been able to.”
“I do love you—”
You immediately pulled off him, rushing to get your feet back on the floor. No, no fucking way, he was not going to lie to you again. He was simply not allowed to anymore. You would not tolerate it.
“Y/N—”
“Get out of my hotel!” You pointed to the door. “Now, Steve, or I swear I will shoot you.”
He scoffed. “For what? Loving you?”
“You piece of shit.” You didn’t wait for him to say anything else. You stormed to the bathroom and locked the door before he could intrude yet again.
He knew you wouldn’t come back out, not while he was still there. All he could do was leave. For safe measure, he at least unloaded your gun and set it on the bedside table. Maybe if you had to find it and load again, you would lose some of your anger and not ended up taking a shot at him.
How dare he? He had no right to say that to you, no right to use that word. It meant nothing coming from him because there was the implied ‘but’ along with it. Before, he just loved you. Period. Now? He loved you. But what? He loved Peggy more? He loved this time more?
You thought you had been angry before. Even though the time you were spending with Peggy was diffusing that somewhat. Still, you never lost sight of what you wanted. Needed. The idea of Steve’s heartbreak was the only thing that could get you up in the morning.
He threw you off for a few days. Every time you tried to leave the hotel room just to do something a tad evil, you would end up in bed crying. Steve thankfully didn’t try to come back, you hated the thought of him seeing you like this, letting him know that he could still do this to you.
Peggy called. You gave her the number, just in case, and she used it to express her concern for you. It wasn’t like you not to want to hang out or to just be around and bump into her “randomly”. She invited you out for breakfast the first day, then lunch the next. You said you weren’t feeling well.
An excuse she stopped taking the third night. She wanted to go dancing with you, all while her asshole boyfriend stayed at home. How could you say no? You shouldn’t, this was the entire reason you were here.
You would kill her tonight. This time was a drag and you wanted to get home. To a place where you could wear pants or a t-shirt. A place where there weren’t so many preppy men in pastels or college sweaters.
Peggy picked you up, she wouldn’t stop staring. Had it been any other day, you might have even questioned why. But you weren’t going to enjoy this as much as you thought you would. It sucked, and honestly, it made you hate Steve even more. He was your downfall, he was also her downfall, but at least he would soon be utterly alone.
It had been hours. You were just trying to dance and let the music fill your mind, but this music was shit. If you had to hear one more man sing about wanting to hold a woman’s hand… Truly, you missed the filth of your time.
Peggy was the one that wanted to leave. Peggy was the one that wanted to walk away from all the noise of the city. Peggy was the one that took you to some sleazy motel, where she gave you the briefest of looks when she’d stopped you both on the sidewalk. She was also the one that kissed you when you didn’t say anything because what did you have to actually say?
Nothing. Not one thing. You had no idea how this plan had spiraled so terribly. You were meant to come here, kill her, throw it in Steve’s face, then bolt back home like none of it ever happened.
But you couldn’t kill her, not anymore, not after seeing what a miserable life she had with Steve. You hoped she would leave him, and not just to hurt him, but to help herself. You remembered the life she had in your world, the one she had created with your husband. It was so much better than the hell she was living in here.
So, you let her take you to a room. You let her kiss you, you let her tear your dress off, push you onto the bed, and crawl on top of you. Her lips moved everywhere over your legs, arms, and stomach, and they felt like fire because they belonged to someone who wasn’t Steve.
You hated how guilty you felt. You hated that your mind was seriously considering this a betrayal, cheating. But you were trying to be kinder to yourself. It wasn’t your fault that you had fallen so hard for someone and that you had made plans because someone had promised you forever.
She knew you were thinking about him. Not Steve, of course, but the someone you had once mentioned. She didn’t mind, she just promised she would try to make you forget. You forced yourself to be present, you turned off your mind when you could. She didn’t ask a lot of you, in reality.
She wanted to be on top, she wanted you to say her name and wouldn’t let you come until you asked nicely. It was probably around the third orgasm that you stopped feeling so awful, that all of those familiar sensations weren’t triggering memories and bitter resentment. That was what she gave you with her mouth alone and didn’t move until it was evident that your thoughts had simply melted away.
When she crawled back up to kiss you, she buried her fingers inside you. At that point, who the hell even was Steve Rogers? A distant, dull pain. Peggy was here, on top of you, biting your lip, telling you to come one more time, because she knew you had it in you.
She told you that you were beautiful, that she’d never seen a body like yours. She told you that you made her feel things Steve couldn’t, that you were fun and warm and kind, and she loved spending time with you.
You were covered in sweat, your skin painted with her lipstick and bites and other marks she left all over your skin. She hadn’t come yet and refused any offers you made her, she claimed she just wanted to focus on you for a moment.
When she finally pressed her soaking center against yours, you were in an odd amount of pain. You longed for something, so much, but you had no idea what. She pulled your hair, began kissing your neck, and rolled her hips hard. You pulled her hair back, pressed your hips up when she pressed down, whimpered her name, and told her she felt so good. It was when she started fucking you harder and faster, and you were getting really close once again, that you got the sick idea to rake your nails down her back. Hard enough to leave marks.
After her finish, she collapsed onto her side next to you. The way she looked at you was kind of scary, like you were worth a lot more than you knew you were. She also looked satisfied and you hadn’t seen that look since you’d shown up. And what a fucking crime that was. Yes, Steve was a dick, but fuck, that man could seriously fuck. Why was he denying her that?
You shoved her onto her back and sat on her face because you didn’t want to be thinking about him. She kept you there until you were shaking and so fuzzy you couldn’t even sit up on your own. A tad haphazardly, you insisted on getting your mouth on her. After some convincing on your part and a few pitying laughs from her as you nearly fell over the edge of the mattress because you were still dizzy, your tongue was sliding against her skin and her hands were locked in your hair.
She needed to get home, back to her boyfriend before he started to worry. You stuck around for a bit, reluctant to return to your apartment. Maybe this was it, maybe this was all you needed. Maybe it was just time to fucking go home.
You truly worried about all of the Bucky lectures you were going to get, all of those Natasha looks, those small ‘tsk’ sounds when Thor was not only upset but disappointed in you, the judgmental eyebrows Tony would be sending your way, and those puppy dog eyes from Peter. Goodness, you were sure Peter missed you. Bruce would never trust you again, no surprise there, you had lied to him. You hadn’t thought about the consequences of your actions when you first did this. You hated, at the time, that you didn’t care if you hurt anyone.
Game over. You weren’t going home not without having scored some points, but to win, you would just end up losing more. More, you now understood that you had taken all of it for granted. Yes, your friends were constant reminders of Steve and they had been acting like you were some mission they needed to complete, but at least they loved you. That was more than a lot of people had and you would let them know about all these epiphanies if they didn’t kill you as soon as you returned.
When you made it back to your apartment, it was only to get the necklace Wanda had given you a few years back for your birthday. It was this huge stone you never remembered the name of, something you rarely took off regardless of that.
The last thing you expected was to find Steve. He looked furious and maybe, just maybe, you were going to get the satisfaction of seeing that you hurt him before you left. “What the hell are you doing here?”
He was at the table again, jaw set, glaring at the wall straight ahead of him. You were trying to think if you’d ever seen him this angry, if you’d ever even heard stories of it. Probably not. He liked to act like you were so damn delicate. Though, maybe he had been onto something.
“Hey,” you snapped after receiving no response, “Why the fuck are you in my hotel room?”
Finally, he turned to you and for the first time ever, you were scared of him.
You kept your distance, you even began moving toward your bedside table where you had your gun stashed.
“I hope you’re not looking for this.” He reached down for a moment then tossed it onto the table noisily.
Shit. “Steve…”
“You fucked her.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He stood quickly, storming over to you. For a moment, you had been stunned, and it was enough for him to get several upper hands. It wasn’t as if he needed them to begin with, but with your delayed scattering back, he was able to grab you and pin you to the wall. You were completely defenseless in stupid, impractical heels and an ugly, impractical dress.
“Tell me you didn’t fuck her.”
You said nothing.
He scoffed harshly. “I fucking smelled you all over her…and now I smell her on you. You left those scratches on her back because you wanted me to know.”
“Honestly, I thought I would be gone by the time you found out or by the time you decided to confront me. In fact, if you leave now, I’ll be gone and you’ll never have to see me again.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“What? Isn’t that what you wanted?”
He didn’t say anything, instead, he grabbed the neckline of your dress and tore it open. He paid no mind to your startled shoving at his chest. His eyes moved over your skin quickly, you could tell he was getting angrier with every bruise he found.
You were going to play this off, bat away at his feelings just long enough for you to escape. “Steve, I—”
He grabbed your jaw and you immediately shut up. “Go take a shower.”
Your eyebrows pulled together.
“Now.”
“No, you fucking—”
“You can do it on your own or I can do it for you. But to be clear, I will not ask again, and I’m gonna count to ten before I really lose my patience. One, two, three—”
“Steve,” you tried softly. He was still holding you there, so tight that the idea of moving was laughable.
“Four, five—”
“Steve,” you were a tad more frantic, pushing at his forearm.
“Six, seven.” He finally pulled away from you and you bolted to the bathroom without a second thought. He told you to leave the door open and you listened because you no longer had the desire to push him.
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You came out in a towel several minutes later. Most of your shower was spent just trying to calm down, the rest was using any product you had to try to get rid of her scent. You didn’t want to risk further angering him with any lingering mentions of Peggy.
He was just feet away from the door when you stepped out and once again, he showed no hesitation in ripping away what covered your body. He looked you over again, briefer this time, obviously displeased with what he saw. He’d hoped most of it was just the lipstick Peggy always wore.
“Are you wet?”
“What?”
“Your pussy. Are you wet?” He was condescendingly slow with every single word and your hand suddenly itched with the need to smack him.
“No.”
“Well, you’re a liar, so I don’t believe you,” he countered. “Check.”
“What?”
“Check,” he repeated. “Now. And if I have to keep repeating myself, you’re not going to like the way this night plays out.”
You averted your gaze as you brought your hand to your center. Your breath caught audibly as you ran your fingers through. Yes, he was an ass, but your body would never stop craving his touch.
“Show me.”
Begrudgingly, you brought your hand back to him.
“Wow, how did I know you were lying? Touch yourself. Keep touching yourself until you come.”
You snorted. “Eww, no—”
He slammed his hand against the wall behind you and you fell silent again. “The same rules apply. Do it or I will do it for you.”
He had never spoken to you like this. Sure, there were the bad missions. There were the times when he just needed to fuck you to forget all the shit he had to deal with. But there was never a moment where you wondered if he would lose control, if he would hurt you unintentionally. Right now, maybe it wasn’t so much that you thought he would. You had known him long enough, loved him long enough, that you knew exactly what kind of man he was. Maybe, right now, it was that you wanted him to hurt you.
Nothing could be worse than when he left you. Nothing he did was going to hurt more than when you went back home and you were, once more, without him. Meaning that you wanted to take everything that you possibly could from this moment. All the pain, all the bruises, all those emotional scars that would add to the ones from before that you had idiotically convinced yourself you could ever get rid of.
He knew you were considering your next move and arched an eyebrow at your continuing silence.
You shook your head. “No.”
One of his hands shot up to wrap around your neck, the other hand went to your cunt where he slid two fingers into you with embarrassing ease.
You brought your hands up to his forearm and dug your nails into his skin. The harder you scratched him, the harder he would choke you—it was something established early on in your relationship. And if he was choking you, you couldn’t moan or whine like he wanted you to.
For a moment, you both stayed still. For an entire second, it wasn’t that he had left you, that you had to track him down, that you fucked his girlfriend and he was fucking furious about it. For a second, it was just you and him, like it was all the times before.
The problem was pride. It wasn’t like before and neither one of you wanted to let the other pretend. He hurt you. You hurt him. Before no longer mattered. So, you shut your eyes and turned your face away from him.
He thrust his fingers just slightly harder than you would have liked, slightly harder than he would have liked. It would sting in the morning, but you wouldn’t hate it. Crescent-shaped cuts would be found everywhere on his skin and he would mourn that they were healing too fast. Both of you knew that this was it. The end.
You were wet, that obscene sound drowning out your choked noises. He absolutely loved this, loved you. He had thought being with Peggy again would make him feel like he was finally home. It took him so long to figure out that he was wrong, to realize that you were one of the few people that actually felt like home. You and Bucky, Nat, Sam, Tony, Wanda, Thor. Not Peggy.
And he could no longer pretend when he felt you tighten around his fingers. He was fucked up and he ruined things a lot of the time. It was just in his DNA, even the fucking serum couldn’t fix that. But prior to leaving, he’d never ruined anything with you. He hadn’t realized how much he missed fucking you because he always did that right.
“Open your eyes,” he ordered.
Instead, you pushed harder at his arm and turned further away from him. Your hips started to buck against his hand, and he knew you wanted this, but he knew you were not going to give in without some fight.
“Open your fucking eyes, Y/N.”
You were not going to. After all the hell he’d put you through? Fuck that, fuck him. You were never going to give him anything he wanted ever again.
He yanked his hand away from your pussy and grabbed your jaw to turn your face to him. He knew that wouldn’t work alone and in a move of desperation, kissed you. A move to get you to let your guard down—a weak move that would not work. As his knee came up to your cunt and you began grinding against it, he started biting your lip.
You buried one hand in his hair and started pulling harder than you should have. He released your jaw to do the same to you. This was much different than how he usually touched you. He’d always been rough, but this hurt, actually hurt.
You rode his thigh with no assistance from him. He let your face go and dropped your hair in search of another tactic. You were no longer kissing, you instead rested your head on his shoulder, eyes still squeezed shut. Even when he grabbed your ass painfully, and when he smacked you after all you did was scream. Even when he grabbed your breasts and pulled on your nipples.
You kept your eyes shut the entire time and he was growing furious. He wasn’t going to let you feel anything even resembling pleasure if you weren’t going to give into him. He pulled away and grabbed your hips.
You opened your eyes then, concerned about what he was doing to you next. He grabbed your shoulder and shoved you onto the bed before you could say a word. You were on your stomach, facing away from him, busy lamenting the loss of your finish. You heard him undressing as you attempted to regain your breath and composure.
He was on top of you before that happened, yanking your legs open before he crawled up, hands stopping on either side of your head. He wasn’t going to tease, he was going to fuck you like the brat you were—hard, mean, unforgiving. He lowered his hips until his cock was lined up with your entrance and then thrust in.
Your scream must have scared the hell out of the neighbors. You wouldn’t be surprised if the cops were being called right then. It wasn’t a pleasurable scream, you certainly liked that he was inside you, but that was just your body. Your heart ached in a way that it never had. You’d thought you were never going to feel him again, but it wasn’t some beautiful feeling of reconnection. You were at square one, you would have to crave his body all over again once this was over. You would go through those same agonizing withdrawals that had truly destroyed you those first few months.
Steve grabbed your hair again and shoved your face into the mattress. He didn’t care about taking it slow, making sure that you, his precious, sweet girlfriend, were okay. He felt just as torn up as you and he couldn’t afford emotional consideration when he was so fucked up. He only knew what he wanted, for you to look at him like you used to. He would do whatever he had to do to get it. Part of him didn’t care how low he would have to go. He wasn’t Captain America here, he didn’t have to live up to the same standards.
You blindly reached back to try to catch his arm, but your attempts never even touched him. He didn’t seem to care about what you were attempting, he just fucked you. He held you down as his hips slammed against your ass and he moaned loudly, shamelessly, selfishly. You finally caught a hold of his arm and used the heel of your palm to push, but since you were out of breath and had been for quite some time, you doubted that there was any real force behind it.
“Can’t breathe, baby?” he wondered, hips still snapping, the head of his cock reaching that delicious spot inside you.
You dug your nails into his skin even though it was an uncomfortable stretch and your muscles were screaming. You were screaming, too, despite everything, despite the lack of strategy in that, but this felt too good not to. You hadn’t been fucked like this in so long, this was what you knew you would never get from someone else. This deep, soul-level connection was a one-time deal. No one else was ever going to be able to give you this.
“If I let you up, you better fucking look at me. I’m not kidding, Y/N. I’ll fucking hold you down again until I fucking come.”
Once his hand lifted from your head, you turned up and gasped for air. It was a short-lived relief as soon as his hand pressed into your neck and angled your head back. It wasn’t that you were scared, and you should have been because you wholeheartedly believed his threat, it was that you were happy to have an excuse to give in. He was stronger than you, right? No one could blame you for giving in, hell, you were just trying to save yourself. Right?
Your eyes met his and his hips stuttered. A ragged breath fell from his lips, you felt it on your hair. That hard look in his eyes softened, he looked a lot like that man that had promised you he would come back to you.
“I love you,” he breathed.
Your eyes instantly filled with tears and you clamped your mouth shut. Both hands were buried in the bedsheets because you needed something to hold, something to tear at, something to destroy to cope with the burning anger that was consuming you.
“I’m sorry, I love you.” His body moved erratically against yours, desperate for all the things he’d longed for since he’d left you. The two of you were sick together, desperate, twisted people that proved it in bed. Peggy wasn’t like that and he was drowning trying to act like he was normal, like he was that same man that she had been with what felt like centuries ago.
He collapsed, chin pressing into the bend of your neck, and you felt his cum spilling into you. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tight as he rode out his finish. He didn’t stop, however, now he wanted to get you off. He wanted to feel those same pathetic, proud things he experienced whenever he played your body like an instrument.
You didn’t resist, what would be the point? You fucking deserved an orgasm, at the very least. You were ashamed to admit that you wanted it, needed it. You hadn’t honestly felt alive since he left you, but this reminded you what that was like.
He groaned when he felt you tightening around him, his hand wedging between you and the mattress to get to your clit. When he did, it was over and you crashed like a wave against the shore, and you saw stars, and you felt all those things you felt when you were happily in love with a man you thought loved you back.
So, in conclusion, you felt lies.
If he thought he could fuck reality out of your mind, he was sadly mistaken. You were coming down when your hand started sliding across the mattress. Your gun was not the only precaution you took—you’d known Natasha for years and she would strangle you if that was your only form of protection.
He was kissing down your spine when you located your knife, and he had just started to speak when you turned back and just stabbed. You had a general awareness of where he was, you knew you weren’t going to kill him, and you didn’t want to. You just needed to get away, before he started talking, apologizing, making more promises.
You didn’t wait to see where you stabbed, you simply clawed away from him until you could jump from the bed. He cried out and you heard him grabbing for you, but you couldn’t stop for anything. On your bedstand was the necklace you had shown up for, you grabbed it, along with your long coat and then you were on your way out the door.
Running around completely naked in the 40s, clutching a trench coat you knew you weren’t going to leave without, shoeless, dripping sweat and cum—you’d never thought your beautiful life with Steve Rogers would take you here.
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A Bucky Barnes lecture was the last thing you wanted, but it was the only thing you would be receiving for probably several months. Well, when he was done with his silent treatment. He was furious when you returned, he didn’t say a word to you. Everyone else had completely fawned over you. They hugged you, pet your hair, told you how proud they were that you came home.
Bucky just stared at you and when they all parted so he could speak to you, he simply stormed out of Bruce’s lab. But yes, Bruce was a tad betrayed, your expectation on that had been correct. You apologized profusely and brought him coffee every day, several times a day until he stopped looking at you like a kicked baby animal.
Tony was disappointed, but not to Bucky’s extent. He simply could not fathom the hold Steve had on you still, told you as much. You admitted that you were wrong, and well, with Tony, that was really all he needed. He wanted to be right and he wanted you to tell him that you learned your lesson. To the untrained eye, he would look like a narcissist. But you knew him better, you knew he was just scared of losing you. Again. He merely wanted to know that you were sticking around and that was what you conveyed when you told him you had made a mistake going in the first place. He dropped it, like it never happened.
Natasha didn’t let you out of her sight for almost two complete weeks. She watched you and you felt her watching you, but she wasn’t going to pry. She was angry, but she was still handling you with gloves on. She wasn’t going to push you emotionally no matter how badly she wanted to. She also wasn’t going to ask questions, scared that prying would move you further away. You told her you saw Steve and that you got what you needed, she nodded, and that was the end of it. She still watched you, but she was slyer about it. She made sure you were in your room when she woke up and went to bed, but she took up Tony’s pretending routine as well.
Wanda didn’t need to ask anything; she knew because she read your thoughts. She knew because she had been outraged that you left without a goodbye, so she felt entitled to those thoughts. Not because she needed to know what happened but because she needed to know if you were going to try anything else again. She stopped being mad at you one day when you were making Bruce coffee. You hadn’t heard her, you were there in the kitchen, stuck in your own thoughts. She hugged you tight, didn’t say a word, but just like that, it was over.
Almost everyone had gotten over it in record time. You knew you were an asshole and you apologized, and you meant it, but even if you hadn’t, it wasn’t like they were ever going to hold it against you. Sometimes, knowing that, it made you feel worse because these people loved you and just like Steve had done to you, you hurt them. In the exact same way. You left.
Sam was in a much more difficult position. He felt a duty to you as one of Steve’s closest friends, but he also felt for Bucky. You’d really hurt Bucky and Sam could forgive you for being reckless, psychotic almost, even selfish. But the look on Bucky’s face when they discovered that you were gone was a hard thing to shake.
He stopped ignoring you after a couple of days, but the conversations were short, shallow. He didn’t ask about your time there and he didn’t ask about your feelings after. It was all small talk and polite conversation, it seemed like you barely knew each other at all. But sometimes, you would catch him watching you, like he was looking for signs of something that he couldn’t ask you. He wanted to know if you were still torn up by this Steve thing.
You were. You cried a lot, as if it happened all over again. Technically, in a way, it did. But you didn’t show them that, it was no longer their burden to bear. You had caused them pain when they tried to take yours away. You waited until you were alone or out of the tower, you cried quietly and quickly. You did not allow yourself those days where you would just hole up in your room. You were always awake early, asleep late, and you took care of yourself because you owed them all at least that.
You knew when Bucky was less angry, but you weren’t going to approach him. You were totally fine just waiting for him to let you know when he wanted to speak to you, which was one random morning after you’d finished sparring with Nat.
He was waiting outside the gym, muttered that he wanted to speak to you, and even Natasha had the good sense to get lost. It wasn’t going to be pretty, that much was clear. It was in his tone, his eyes, his tense posture.
He took you back to your room and ordered you to sit on the foot of your bed. He paced for a long time and you didn’t say a word or make a sound. When he finally looked at you, you seriously worried he might kill you. He was angry all over again, had worked himself up with his thoughts but you weren’t sure why entirely.
“Did you see him?”
You nodded.
“You talked to him.”
“About…everything? Um, no, not really.” There hadn’t been that conversation. Any attempts on Steve’s part were expertly diverted by you, with all your ill intentions and knowledge of how to get under Steve’s skin.
He nodded curtly. “So, this was for nothing then? You put me through all of this shit for nothing?”
“Bucky, I’m really so—”
He was storming out of the room before you finished your sentence.
You didn’t see him for two days, and when you did, it was clear again, you would be getting more silence. You told yourself you couldn’t be that hurt. You’d hurt him first, that meant he had the right to express his feelings even if that resulted in him not speaking to you.
Several days later, Bucky dropped his Winter Solider persona and became a worried, bitter mother hen. You were sick, it wasn’t something that you thought was a big deal. He’d come to speak to you again and with his enhanced hearing, heard you puking in the bathroom.
When you were done, he forced you back into bed and got Bruce. Bruce did the usual, it wasn’t as if anyone was worried, he was just too scared not to indulge Bucky. Speaking of, he was off in the corner of the room, claiming that you’d probably gotten some kind of time-traveling bug. He was being dramatic, and you became aware of what exactly had drawn him and Steve together all those years ago. Extra bitches.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Bruce assured. “Her temperature is fine.”
“Take her blood, test it for time-traveling bugs.”
You rolled your eyes, and because Bruce had heard of the Winter Soldier, he did as was directed. Even though you were pretty sure that Bucky wasn’t serious. Not completely. Once Bruce had the excuse of focusing on your blood, that left you and Bucky alone.
“Why did you even go?”
This was not going to go over well. “Um…I had a plan…”
“A plan,” he repeated. “To do what?”
“I was sort of…kind of, just a little bit, going to kill Peggy.”
His mouth dropped.
You rolled your eyes. “I know that was stupid—”
“You’re insane!”
You glared. “Bucky.”
“You didn’t do it, right?!”
“No,” you huffed. “I should have, would have been putting her out of her misery. He’s such a fucking tool.”
He dragged his hand down his face, holding his jaw as he leaned over in his chair and pressed his elbows to the tops of his thighs. He was silent for a very long time before saying, “Yeah…he is. Did he hurt you?”
The bruises had been painfully obvious, there was no way to hide them, and you knew they could all guess what they came from. You felt your skin getting hot as you shook your head. “No. He wouldn’t do that, Bucky.”
He scoffed. “I thought that…but he did leave you and I never thought he could do that.”
“He’s…not different,” you claimed. “Just…”
“A fucking tool.” He nodded. “I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“No, I’m really sorry, Bucky. I’m not just sorry for leaving and upsetting you. I’m sorry for everything, I’m sorry that you wasted months trying to make me feel better and then I just left. I’m sorry that I took you guys for granted, I’m sorry that I didn’t know how fortunate I was to have people who love me as much as you guys do. I know I betrayed your trust so it’s not going to mean much, but I will never do anything like that again.”
His eyes flit up from the floor to your face. “I do love you. So fucking much. You’re my only connection to him. And you left and I didn’t have that, I didn’t have you and I didn’t have him, and I was just…lost.”
You felt those familiar pricks in the back of your eyes, but you told yourself not to cry, you didn’t have the right. But just as soon as his eyes filled with tears, you couldn’t hold back your own anymore. He practically flung himself off the chair to rush to you, arms wrapping tightly around your shoulders.
You weren’t sure how long you both stayed there, just clinging to each other. This felt like the end of all the tension, though. This felt like a fresh start and you and Bucky were just going to have to move on without Steve. You pondered that for a while. You would have to try to find him a girlfriend or a boyfriend so he wouldn’t try to find you someone. It was going to be a little give and take, probably a major power-struggle every now and then, but it was going to be good.
The only reason you two pulled away was because both a frantic Bruce and Natasha ran into the room. They’d made all the noise two people could possibly make as they did so, crashing into each other because the doorway wasn’t big enough for the both of them.
They were wide-eyed, out of breath, both looking like they had just seen a ghost. But a much different ghost since they both regarded one another with a look of confusion.
“What is it?” Bucky demanded. “Wait, she doesn’t really have a time-traveling bug, does she?”
“Oh!” Bruce scoffed awkwardly, “I’d say so!”
You narrowed your eyes. “What the hell does that mean?”
“That can wait!” Natasha declared.
“No, it certainly cannot!” Bruce insisted.
These were two people who were normally soft-spoken, not because they were meek or soft in any general sense—hello, Black Widow and the Hulk—but in that they didn’t like drawing so much attention to themselves.
As they both started hissing arguments back at each other, Bucky sighed.
You glanced at him and he shrugged at you in response. Things were all better one second, but the very next, the world was ending.
Both Bruce and Natasha turned back to you with resolute looks on their faces. Natasha only spoke loudly this time because she was hoping to yell over Bruce, “Steve is back!” And Bruce yelled in a completely indelicate manner because he was shocked, horrified, extremely concerned, “You’re pregnant!”
Oh, shit.
Natasha and Bruce took a second to process what the other said and then gasped, turning to one another to share a look. They faced you again and decided to repeat the news only, Bruce screamed about Steve being back and Natasha more so framed it as a shrieking question you’re pregnant?!
You glanced at Bucky.
His jaw was set, his eyes narrowed just slightly. He merely nodded once then stood, throwing his hands up in the air. “Well, I’m gonna fucking kill him.”
Yep, the world was most certainly ending.
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httpdabi · 3 years
Text
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His property
Word count: 6.0k
Genre: SMUT, maybe angst, romantic ? Lots of Dabi lol not sure if it’s yandere... yeah
Warnings: 18+, kidnapping I guess, fire play. Not sure how old Melissa actually is, so if she’s underage in anime, here she’s at least 21 y/I and allowed to drink
Qurikless OC being "saved" from not so hero person. :)
Being quirkless didn’t bother me that much. Sure, i was jealous when my friends started developing their own quirks, showing of. When they used to make a little show, competition which quirk is better, all I could do is sit in the side and adore them.
My parent were telling me almost every day to try to stay out of trouble. If there is a hero fighting a villain, I should just walk away. Because even their power can harm me. I learnt that I can just be at the wrong place In the wrong time and I could be in trouble. They always taught me to be extra careful.
When I was a kid, I used to depend on my parents too much. Today it was kinda different, I was giving my best to be independent as much as I can. Working at a small coffee shop, living in my small apartment. Trying to live as quiet as possible.
,,One caramel macchiato and one chocolate cappuchino” my co-worker said loudly for me to hear. Even tho it could be stressing, I loved my job. I loved making different drinks and talk with people.
I made a little ok sign and started making the ordered drinks.
The shift was passing real fast since there was a lot of work, there wasn’t even time for break. Of course, I could catch a minute and smoke one real fast. Being honest, I was fine with that.
After long ass night I changed into my dress and finally went home. Home wasn’t far from my working place, so if the weather is nice, I would take a walk instead of going home with bus.
,, Great” I hissed after trying to lit my cigarette. Perfect timing for my lighter to die. Little piece of shit gave up on me after such a hard time at work.
I sat down on the end of the bench, trying to find another one while the cigarette was still between my lips. There was nothing worse then forgetting your lighter or when it stops working.
,, Need a little help?” a man asked. I knew that few of them were sitting on the bench, but I didn’t pay attention that much. Before I could turn my head around to face him and take his lighter, his hand was in front of me, and he was lightning my cigarette up with his finger. Small blue fire coming from his finger, looking hella familiar. The purple skin with silver patches didn’t make a klick in my head either.
,,Thanks” I said fast, curious who it is, since my brain was telling me that I know this person. But once I looked at him, his head was already turned to another direction. Not wanting to bothering him or his friends, I just left believing it was someone I saw on my work. After all, we have a lot of costumers.
Time after work was my favorite, especially if I didn’t have to wake up early next day. A glass of wine, face mask, and phone in my hand. I couldn’t force myself to spend rest of the night locked up watching TV, so I enjoyed the beautiful weather on my balcony. I could see the little group of friends from my balcony. So I was lowkey stalking them a little, sad I couldn’t hear shit they were talking about. My little stalking was interrupted by a small vibration coming from my phone.
Of course it was Melissa. My one and only friend, quirkless bitch just like me. Usually I am not a person to use apps for meeting new people, but when I saw that there is an app for us quirkless sad motherfuckers, I had to instal it. And that’s how I met my soulmate Melissa.
Melissa: ,, What are you doing? I am on my way to your place´´
To Melissa: Chilling on the balcony and sipping on my wine. I´ll be on my way to buy us another bottle and strawberries.
I couldn’t even place my phone on the table and another message was already there.
Melissa: AMAZING!!! Can´t wait to get wasted with you. See ya in a bit loveeee u
Since The shop is near café and my home, there was no need for me to change. I was already in my pajama shorts and shirt, so all I did was wear my baggy hoodie over it. Taking my wallet, I sprinted fast to the shop.
The very next day, I had to work with a worst hangover ever. Melissa left my place around 10AM, groaning in frustration she had to wake up so early. But at least she didn’t have to work.
My shift began at 13PM, so I had some time to rest and let the painkillers work their wonder on me. Sadly the time before my shift started passed faster then I could imagine, and once again I found myself at my work.
From 13 to 16PM there isn´t much work. There are some people passing by after the end of their shifts, our usual costumers coming at the same time. But the exactly at 17PM is where the hell starts.
That was the very reason I liked morning shifts more, even tho I had to wake up so early. It was still less work then in late shift.
More and more orders were coming. Usually I would somehow manage to keep my shit together somehow, but this time I was real mad my boss didn’t get more workers. It could be much easier if there was 3 of us in the shift, instead of two of us.
Like we didn’t have enough stress already, there was a huge explosion near the café. Not paying much attention to it I continued making the drinks.
,, Get down!´´ my co-worker screamed and pulled me under the desk with her. I tried to peek and see what´s happening but in the very moment I did it there was another explosion, blowing me almost away.
In that moment I didn’t know if the explosion was beside our café again, or in it. But I could hear people screaming.
My co-worker started crying, telling me how my face is all bloody. Which was pretty weird, since I felt good. She was pulling me to the back side of the café telling me to use the back door and wait for her.
I did as she told me, seeing the mix of the red and blue flames freaked me out. It was the first time in my life to end up in situation like this, so a wave of panic took over me. Sobbing loudly, I sat down, hugging my knees. I was waiting for my co-worker, too scared to try and get help on my own, since I could still hear screams and people fighting.
Another explosion, probably in the café, since once again I was blown away. I could hear Ryuku and Kamui Woods asking if someone is here. But I couldn’t say a word, as much as I wanted to. I wanted to scream, but even a whisper was heavy at that moment.
Their voices were like echo, and the buildings around me started to get blurry.
I could feel my forehead being touched. My hair being placed behind my ear and someone telling me to wake up. Once I opened my eyes, I saw arm resting beside my head on the street. The same purple skin I saw last night.
I forced myself to look up, and the moment I saw that face, I felt embarrassed I didn’t recognize it before. Of course it was Leauge´s villain Dabi. Maybe the fact that I was trying to ignore the news around as much as possible, thinking if I stay in my safe zone I´ll protect myself. But of course I knew the League of Villains. Of course I knew Himiko Toga, Kurogiri, Shigaraki, Dabi and the rest of them. As much as I wanted to ignore everything happening in the city, I simply knew about them. Everyone does.
,, No´´ I whispered, not being able to feel pain or fear. My eyes looking beside him hoping hero or my co-worker will come and save me.
Dabi lowered himself trying to get my focus on him.
,, They are all gone. ´´ He said looking me directly in the eyes. Whit those words all the hope I had died. I closed my eyes while tears started to roll down my cheeks. This was it, I thought. Either way I´ll die from bleeding out or he´ll kill me.
,, Don´t worry babe, I won´t hurt you´´ He whispered, still playing with my hair. I had no power to say anything, all I could do is wait to fall into unconsciousness again.
His hands tried to pull me up, but somehow in that very moment everything started to feel heavy and I felt like I was about to vomit.
,,Fine, if you want to die, then die´´ He said, and once again everything else was black.
I woke up with sudden urge to vomit again. Being in dark unfamiliar room didn´t help either. The only thing that helped was the fact that I was alive. Before I could stand up and find bathroom, I vomited all over the floor. Maybe it´s weird, but I started crying, not only because I had no idea where I was, but also because I vomited. It´s a nightmare for me.
The door suddenly opened and at my surprise Dabi got inside. Which followed with me vomiting once more and crying again. Didn´t he let me die ?
,,Goddammit, I even prepared a bucket for you, can´t you use it ?´´ He said calmly. Grabbing my arm harshly, he pulled me up and forced me to walk out of the room.
,, I´m sorry´´ I sobbed, not wanting to make any problems. I didn´t want to do anything to provoke the villain.
,, Wait here´´ he said, forcing me to sit in the kitchen. Then he went back in the room I slept in.
The kitchen wasn’t big, but it wasn´t small either. There was a counter with drinks, and two tall uncomfortable chairs. On the other side were cabinets, sink, dishwasher, stove and freezer. Everything was in light and dark shade of gray.
,, Well, you can vomit like world champion´´ Dabi´s voice echoed thru the room. I could hear the toilet flush and his steps coming closer. It took him a second and there he was, standing in front of me. He went to the other side of the counter, took one glass and filled it with cold water.
,, So babe, what happened back there?´´ he asked, placing the glass in front of me. I was scared and confused, and I didn’t have any courage to look the man in the eyes or say anything.
,, I don´t know´´ I said quietly. He sighed and took a small box of cigarettes out of his pocket. Lighting his cigarette up with his quirk, just like he did yesterday.
,, You are lucky I noticed you trying to hide back there, since your little friend left without thinking twice´´ he said, as he puffed on his cigarette.
I wasn´t sure if I should feel sad, betrayed or mad. From all of the people back there, a villain saved my life. But I did feel thankful to him.
,,Thank you´´ I said, looking at him. His cigarette between his lips, eyes half closed.
,, What should I do with you´´ he said, finishing the cigarette and taking another one from the box. He placed the box in front of me.
When he realized that I won´t take one, he stood up and made his way toward me. Standing behind me, he placed his hands on my shoulders, slowly massaging them. His one hand pulled my hair back lightly, and other one placed his already lit cigarette in front of my lips.
,, Come on love, I know you smoke´´ he said, placing the cigarette between my lips with a little force. In a moment, his face was inches away from mine. I could feel his breath on my neck, making me freeze in the place.
,, Maybe I should keep you for myself here´´ he whispered, breathing deeply on my ear. ,,After all, I can protect your quirkless little body´´ he addes slowly.
There were many things going thru my mind at that moment. What did he mean ? How did he know I don´t have a quirk?
Days and weeks passed and there I was still at Dabi´s place. First few days I was left alone, either way he was really busy or just wanted to give me some time. Dabi let me sleep in his room, since I couldn´t force myself to sleep in the one I vomited. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could still smell the vomit.
His room was decorated in dark shades. One black king sized bed in the middle, dark green walls and black furniture. On the right side were huge windows and balcony. Since I was alone, I gave myself a little bit of freedom. After all, he didn´t seem that dangerous as everyone said.
At the beginning he didn´t let me cook or do anything that could be dangerous in his opinion. He didn´t trust me at all, being sceptic that I might poison him. He did try to keep me entertained, giving me Nintendo Switch with some games like Pokemon, Super Mario, etc. He also didn´t have any problem with Netflix or whatever I wanted. I know those are small things, but being with him, I expected less.
After some weeks passed, I was seeing him more often. He would casually get inside his room, since there was the balcony. Without knocking or any sign. Well, it was his room after all. Sometimes he would just bring us some fast food, ice cream and force me to eat with him. At least he thought so. I didn´t have any problem with it.
After 3 weeks passed, I started to realize that I was pretty much attracted to this man. I wasn´t someone who falls easily for a man, but his attitude, his cold personality, the way he moves, the way he talks, the way I could catch him look at me, it was all extremely attractive to me. It probably all started the day I caught him sitting beside me, thinking I was asleep. It was around 3AM when I heard him coming inside his room. He sat beside me, and started caressing my cheek softly.
In that moment all I could do was just pretend that I was still asleep.
After that night, he would come at night and just sit there with me, thinking I was asleep.
I opened the window and sat on the balcony, admiring the sight of the buildings and colorful lights coming form the streets, and cars.
,, I don´t remember allowing you to go outside.´´
He was standing to my left side, looking at the street.
,, Planning how to run away?´´ He added, not paying attention to me. He was wearing black pants, with dark grey oversized sweater. His presence was too much for me, it wasn’t that I was scared of him, but I was too shy, I couldn´t look him in the eye without thinking about him sitting next to my ´´sleeping´´ form and looking at me, playing with my hair.
,, You know what will happen if you even try´´ he said getting closer to me. I could feel his hands on my hips, holding them firmly. I could smell his strong cologne mixed with smoke. He told me if I even think about running away, he would burn me down even my ashes will disappear. Somehow he knew who my parents are, who my friends are and he said he would kill every single one of them.
At first I didn’t believe him, somehow I thought he isn´t capable of something like that. But I changed my mind once I saw him on the news, where it was talk about his victims.
His thumb was going in circles, making a small pressure on my hip. I didn´t think of running away. First of all I wasn´t brave enough, second of all, I was so unimportant to this world that I didn´t hear shit about me on the news.
,, Can I have my phone ?´´ I asked him, not thinking about his reaction or anything. I just wanted to contact my parents and Melissa.
,,Wha..?´´ he laughed out. His hold getting stronger, keeping me in my place.
,, Babe, do you think I´m that stupid ?´´ he laughed, turning me around to face him. If I wasn´t in a situation like this, I would probably feel the urge to touch his scars, being so close to me.
,, I just want to contact my family and my friend. I won´t do anything that might harm you´´ I said, not breaking the eye contact.
,, Harm me ? ´´ he laughed, his face inches from mine. This man was indeed driving me crazy.
,, Please, you can control me if you want. I won´t delete any message, I´ll do whatever´´ I managed to say somehow. His lips being so close, it was a wonder I could speak at all.
The moment his lips brushed against mine, I felt all possible feeling I could in my stomach. ,, You´ll do whatever?´´ he said, his head still tilled to the side, and lips brushing over mine. I could feel a small smirk forming on his lips.
,,I´ll think about it´´
After that day, he didn´t hold himself at all. Doesn´t matter what I was doing, if he felt like being close to me, he would just do it. If I was cleaning, making myself a snack, playing some games, he would just casually slip his hands around my waist.
Laying down on the couch, legs up on the wall, while playing Super Mario. There was one level I couldn´t pass as hard as I tried to. It was just too troublesome. Dabi was sitting in the kitchen, smoking and watching the gameplay. I could hear him mumbling something to himself, before he made his way and sat beside me, taking the controllers out of my hand.
I was surprised when he started passing the level without any trouble, defeating Iggy Koopa so easily.
,, YAAASSS´´ I screamed grabbing the sleeve of his hoodie and shaking it happily. I was dealing with that level probably two days in a row.
In the moment when I was about to ask him how did he do it so easily, he threw the controllers to the side, grabbing my right leg with his left hand, and my hip with his right hand. Pulling my body to his direction. I couldn´t even understand what was exactly happening in that moment, since it happened so fast. He placed my legs around him, and hovered over me.
,, Don´t I need a little present for this win?´´ he said looking at me, placing small kisses over my face. This time, I couldn´t suppress the need to touch his scars. The curiosity took over me, and suddenly I found myself, placing my index finger beside his lip. Moving my finger lightly to the left side of his face. The moment I did that he froze in the place, not kissing me, or doing anything. His body twitched once my finger was under his eye, touching the scars and the small patches.
He grabbed my jaw, and kissed me forcefully, forcing his tongue inside, not giving me a chance to breath. His other hand was under focused on pulling my shirt up, just enough for my bra to be visible.
,, You are driving me crazy´´ he said, his lips now on my neck, one hand still on my jaw and other grabbing my left breast making me moan suddenly. I could feel him smirk while leaving wet love marks over my neck.
Having Dabi around was something I hoped for now. I was hoping for those unexpected touches and waiting for him to come at night like he always did.
What surprised me was the fact that he actually gave me my phone. Telling me that he will control my messages and that if he notices I´m deleting them, things won´t be smooth as they are now.
Somehow, I didn´t even feel the urge to write something bad, to ask for help or anything ? I found myself wanting to be in his presence, I wanted him to be close to me.
He already contacted my parents and Melissa before, telling them that I´m alright. He ignored the rest of the messages they sent me. They wanted to see me, they were worried. Melissa thought she did something wrong, since I was ignoring her.
The moment I contacted her, my phone started buzzing with all the messages she started sending me. Where am I? Why did I ignore her ? What happened ? Am I ok ? What happened to my work?
To my parents I simply wrote that I’m fine and safe.
At my surprise, they told me they know where I am, and that we can work it out. They told me that he waited for them home one night. Telling them he felt they need to know where you are, and telling them if they try contacting a hero or police what will happen to me.
I told them that there is no need for me to go anywhere and that I feel safer then I ever was.
After I found out that my parents know, I felt the need to tell everything to Melissa too. She was my best friend after all and I knew she would understand me.
I explained everything what happened that night. Explained how he saved me, how he’s taking care of me and trying to give me everything I need. At first she was really surprised once I mentioned his name. I mean, who wouldn’t be surprised ? But if I’m happy, then she’s happy too. She never judged me even once.
Dabi wasn’t home, so out of boredom I decided to make some food. Maybe he’ll eat it too once he comes home. I decided to make Spaghetti with Quattro formaggi sauce. I noticed that he really likes cheese, so maybe he will give it a try.
After having dinner on my own, I decided to watch some movie on Netfix before I go to bed and once again wait for him. The movie wasn’t anything special, but I still forced myself to finish it. My mind was away all the time, not being focused on the movie at all. All I could think of was Dabi. If someone told me that I would be so desperate for LOV’s villain Dabi, I wouldn’t believe them. But there I was, waiting for him like a lost puppy.
Placing my phone on the Kitchen counter, I made my way to his bedroom. For some reason he was still sleeping in the other room. Making me wonder how does it feel to sleep next to him, and why he let me sleep in his room for such a long time.
I slowly lain down on the right side of the bed, focusing on the lights coming from the outside. Covering my lower part with the blanket. The soft lace pajama that was hugging my body, gave me some comfort in some weird way. I lain on my stomach and placed my left arm under my pillow. Closing my eyes, I inhaled a deep breath trying to keep myself awake.
It was around 2AM when I heard the door slowly open. I could hear his steps, I could hear how he’s in the kitchen, taking my phone, and shortly after placing it back again. I could hear the shower and his soft humming.
Not shortly after that, I could hear him coming. Slowly opening the door and making his way toward me. Sitting to my left side, he took a deep breath, placed his long lags next to mine, and slowly caressing my head. His fingers slowly found their way to my neck, moving left and right.
,,I know you’re awake’’ he said, as his finger slowly brushed the lace on my right shoulder down. In one moment, he was pacing a kiss on my shoulder, and in the next one he was hovering over me. I could feel him on my back. His face inches from mine. When our eyes met, I wasn’t sure if I felt embarrassed or glad.
He took a deep breath once more, and started placing kisses down my back, while his fingers were on my hips. With every kiss, I was going more and more insane.
Dabi got off me, and pulled me to lie to the side, once again facing my back.
,, Such a good girl for me’’ he said pushing my pajama slowly up, and touching my right breast slowly, while biting my neck. All I could do was move my head in the right direction, giving him more access to my neck.
,, Move your legs a bit for me babe’’ he said, placing his hand under my shorts. He didn’t give me a chance to do it on my own tho, forcefully moving my tights and slipping his hand under my panties. My head fall back onto his chest, moan slipping out of my mouth once I felt his touch.
,, Are you my good girl?’’ he asked, stopping his fingers form any movement. Feeling his hot breath on my neck, I forgot how to speak properly.
,, Y-yes’’ I managed to say somehow. Every kiss, breath, word, move from him, made me crazy wanting for more. I could lie to myself and say it’s only because it’s such a long time since I went in bed with someone. But I there’s no need for lies, I’m attracted to this man.
His fingers started moving in circles, massaging my clit just as I wanted. Placing his knee between my legs, giving himself more space for movements. I closed my eyes and moaned, once his finger enter me. Without any word his fingers started to move in and out, so slowly that it was painful. Loving every second of it.
Once again, he pulled me over, making me lie on my back, placing himself between my legs, pinning my hands over my head. No words could describe how I felt in that moment. This time I moved my head foreword and kissed him. I wanted more. He returned the kiss, and started grinding his lower part of body against me, making me feel his erection.
Whit every move he made, I wanted more and more.
When he let go of my hands, I immediately started touching his body, I wanted to feel his skin, his scars. The moan escaped his lips once I started kissing his neck. Not wasting any time, he pulled his whit shirt over his head and threw it across the room, giving me access to his well build chest. Without thinking twice, I started kissing his chest, the purple scars he had. His head was hanging low, breathing deeply.
His hand found it’s way to my throat, grabbing it harshly and pulling me up a little. ,, Time to undress you love’’ he said, his hand like a neckless around my throat.
Moving my ass up a bit, Dabi pulled my shorts and panties down, throwing them on the floor. When I was about to take my top off, he pushed me down smirking a little. Slowly playing with the lace on my right shoulder, he did something I didn’t expect. The blue flame appeared on his fingers, destroying the lace. First the right one, then the left one. His lit index finger went down over the material of my top, from my chest to my stomach, flaming it up just enough to destroy the material.
Once it was destroyed, Dabi pulled the rest of my top that was under me and also threw it across the room. Taking a good look of my naked body, he slowly went down, placing soft kisses over my stomach. The fact that I could feel his burnt skin too was taking me over the edge.
,,What if’’ he breathed out, still leaving wet kisses over my stomach and chest. ,, What if everyone knows to who you belong’’ he said, eyes looking up on me, trailing his finger around my stomach. His left hand holding my hip, making sure no movements were possible.
,,What do you mean?’’ I asked confused, not able to understand anything clearly anymore. There was no need for me to even think about it, because Dabi already made his decision to mark me as his. A loud scream escaped my mouth the moment I felt my skin getting burned.
His hand was still holding me firmly, but he immediately stopped what he was doing, and placed his hand over my mouth.
,,Relax, it will be over just in a minute’’ he said, kissing me deeply. He took the destroyed top and placed it between my lips. Making sure I was biting the destroyed piece of cloth, he slowly went down to finish what he started.
Making sure I won’t interrupt his work, he held my hands together firmly, while holding my legs with his weight down. Every move of his finger, burning my skin, was sending a wave of pain through my body. Closing my eyes, tears rolled down my cheek. Back aching up, screaming into the cloth in my mouth, nothing of it helped me calm down. But he was correct, it took him around minute to finish. Pulling the cloth out of my mouth, he kissed me.
,, Such a good girl’’ he said in between the kisses. Pulling my head up, I saw his name on my stomach. ,,Now everyone knows who you belong to’’ he added, leaving wet love bites all over my neck. From all the pain I felt when he was burning my skin down, everything after that felt like aftercare.
Dabi stood up, taking off his shorts and boxers before he climbed on top of me again. He kissed me once mere before he started rubbing his hard dick over my clit. He knew that I wanted more, but the he liked the fact that I was so desperate for him.
,, Dabi please’’ I moaned out, wanting him inside me already. Without any word or sign, he entered me roughly, not giving me any time do adjust to his size.
,,Of course I’ll give my good girl what she needs. You are too good tonight’’ He said kissing my nose, while my hands were grabbing the covers of his sheets to find my comfort in them.
He didn’t move for some minutes, leaving wet love marks over my chest. But once he was done, he slowly pulled his dick out so only his tip was inside of me. Then again, slammed it back inside. The harsh move, made me place my hands over his back, finding comfort there instead of the cold sheets.
He moved few times with the same method. Every time he would slam his dick back inside I wanted to dig my fingers inside his skin. But I was too afraid I would hurt his already burnt skin. I didn’t want to hurt him.
After he slammed too hard inside me, I accidentally dug my nails into his skin. It was probably not to hard, but still I caressed the place I thought I hurt and apologized to him.
,,You don’t have to worry about it love’’ he said stopping his movements. ,, My skin is already bruised, few new scars won’t hurt me’’ he added, giving me the permission to do what I want. Whit those words his movements started to speed up, making me throw my head back into the pillow and wrap my legs around him.
Dabi bit my shoulder, groaning into it, while he was getting faster and deeper with every move he made. Even tho I was still worried about his skin, I couldn’t help it, my nails were scratching it and digging into it enough to keep up with his moves.
,,I’m close’’ I moaned, while every thrust was bringing me closer to my orgasm. I didn’t have to repeat myself or wait, his hand found it’s way to my clit, rubbing it fast into circles. Which was enough for me to cum all over his dick while moaning his name out.
Without any word, Dabi turned me around on my stomach and entered me form behind once again. Holding my hips strongly while thrusting deep in and out of me. Being sensitive form my orgasm, with every thrust he did, my moans were louder.
,, Ass up’’ he said suddenly stopping his moves. Once I did what he told me, he grabbed my head and pushed it deep into the soft pillow and started to fuck me like there was no tomorrow. The sound of his skin slapping my own, the image of what was happening almost drove me close to my second orgasm.
My moans were huffed by the pillow, while Dabi was fucking me into the mattress.
,, Yess babe, cum for me again’’ He groaned into my ear, fucking me even harder.
,,So close’’ he moaned, touching my clit again and moving even faster and deeper if it was even possible. He didn’t have to touch me much, another orgasm was already hitting me hard.
,, Yess baby, so good’’ he moaned, while his dick started twitching inside of me. I felt his hot cum inside, closing my eyes, trying to catch my breath. Dabi didn’t stop, he tried to fuck his seed deep into me, until he thought it was enough.
Falling beside me, his arm over my back, breathing deeply into my neck. I wanted this moment to last forever.
His fingers trailing up and down my back slowly, while smoking a cigarette. The cold air coming form the opened balcony was a contrast to his hot fingers going up and down.
Once I noticed the cum that started to leak out, I stood up covering my body with the blanket, making my way to the bathroom to clean myself and wear another pajama.
When I finished, and changed. I found Dabi standing in the kitchen, already in his white shirt and his shorts for sleeping. Half of his cigarette was finished.
,, You coming back?’’ I asked.
,, Don’t you want to sleep alone ?’’ he asked turning taking one last smoke before placing the end of the cigarette under the water and throwing it away. I shook my head slowly, and made my way toward his room, hoping it’s enough for him to come back.
Once I buried my head into his pillow, I waited for him to follow me. But the steps were going to another direction, making me sigh deeply.
Shortly after that, at my surprise, Dabi appeared again. Holding some lotion in his hands. He sat beside me pulling the sheet down and my pajama dress up. Small smirk appearing over his lips at the sight of his name on my stomach.
Banding down, he kissed it few times before he applied the cold lotion all over it. Laying down beside me, he placed his arms around me and pulled me closer to him and hiding his face into my neck breathing my scent in.
With his presence and arms around me, it was the first night I could fall asleep peacefully not feeling scared of anything in this world.
Hope you liked it, too lazy to correct all the mistakes.
Also credit to the owner of the photo :)
Much loveeee
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suicidalslasher · 3 years
Text
𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒍𝒚 ➤ 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆
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Here's one of three Carrie White fics!! :D This is honestly short and sweet, plus simple... compared to the other two. But.... it's here and I'm very much happy with the way it came out. I hope you all enjoy it, as well.
Although, the gif is of Sissy, you can pretend it's either version of Carrie.
(Chloe or Angela's. I, personally, just prefer Sissy's. Although, I love all three.) And despite it being Sissy, too, I took inspiration from the (2002) adaption with Angela whereas Carrie never died in the accident of her house.
Instead, she lives and runs away. And yadda yadda. Enjoy!! xx
Warnings: None. Unless you count fluff and love confessions UwU.
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“I know she was your friend but c’mon, (Y/N). She was nothing more than a piece of shit… Grow up. Move on.”
“She was a monster, (Y/N). Do you really think she wasn’t? After all she had done? She destroyed everything and hurt so many people… she killed several hundred people, too… if that isn’t a cruel, heartless bitch, I don’t know who or what is.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re just like her…. are you a demon in disguise, too, (Y/N)?”
They said the same exact thing. The statements were always said by different people but the topic of the subject remained the same - Carrie White.   Carrie White was the devil. So on and so forth…
It was a constant reminder she no longer was here with us - with me.  
 The tragedy that struck on prom  night wasn’t my fault. Nor, was it Carrie’s.
Carrie had so much anger built up within her, she was bound to explode with rage eventually. And that day just so happened to unravel at the dance. All thanks to the students (and some teachers) of Bates High.
They constantly bullied Carrie for no real given reason, they harassed her for things she couldn’t quite control, either.  Not me, though.
I’m not crazy, even if there are people that  say I am and even if there are those that put words in my mouth I never said to begin with, too -
It’s not true.
None of it is true.
Everything you’ve read about Carrie White is false. Everything you’ve, more than likely, heard about her is furthest from the truth, also.
She’s not a monster. She never was one. She was just an ordinary girl, begging to be loved,  to be happy. And I loved her.
I just… I wish more than anything she realized how much I loved her.  I was in love with Carrie White, truly, madly, deeply…. in love with her.
And nobody could ever change how I felt - how I feel - towards her.
The night I was going to confess my feelings, believe it or not, was before the dance. Before everything happened.
The moment I arrived to the dance, well…by then, it was too late.   I hadn’t known it yet but almost everyone  was trapped inside the gymnasium, nails digging through the doors as they tried - and failed - to escape.
Their blood curling whines and agonizing moans were silenced by the music that played out on the speakers which echoed outside of the windows and bounced back and forth from the building to the parking lot.
I didn’t realize something terrible had happened until I smelled an intoxicating scent that caused my eyes to blur over with tears and caused me to grimace as the odor only grew stronger, thicker.
I winced and gazed around the parking lot which still remained full of different colored vehicles.     Confusion struck but after a moment or two later, realization hit like a ton of bricks.
From where I had stood, I saw a huge  cloud of gray smoke lingering around the building, only growing more and more thicker in the sky.
When I first arrived, the sky was crystal clear.  Not a single   speck of white was seen from above.   Now, that beautiful shade of blue was replaced with dark and haunting clouds of gray.
Even the moon was no longer hanging in the air for the smoke had it hidden.
The odor that swarmed the air, I realized, was people’s flesh burning.   One by one, people within the school were dying and suffocating to death.
Call me whatever you wish, as I’ve been called every name in the book, but I mean it when I say that I could care less  about the students and teachers of Bates High. If that made me an insensitive bitch, so be it.
The only reason I even attempted to try to get inside the building was because I remembered Carrie had gone to the dance with Tommy Ross.  And I’d do anything to save her.
Expect… I couldn’t.
Every area of the school was locked. Every entrance and exit doors were shut tightly. No matter how hard I tried to open them,  the damned thing wouldn’t budge.
I even tried to go through the windows but they were shut, too. There was nothing I could do.
Nothing expect fall to the ground and bury my face in my hands as tears began to fall, one by one, a tear dropped and soaked my hands and stained my cheeks.
Everyone said prom was a night to remember… but I doubt anyone wanted to remember their prom like this.
*~*
The following week after the incident, I heard a knock at my door. Slowly making my way out of bed, I walk down my too small and narrow hallway and open the door once I’ve reached the entrance,  glancing at the  person behind the screen door.
Sue Snell stood there, hands in her pocket and a look of sadness painted across her face.
“(Y/N),” She began.  “Can…. can we talk?”
“About what?” I snarled, not caring if I came off as rude or ignorant or any other definition.  I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to sleep and never wake up. I already knew where the conversation was going and what the main subject was going to be about. And I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to talk about it.
“It’s about last week…  It’s…. it’s about Carrie.”
“I already know. She’s dead, okay? She’s dead and she isn’t going to come back, you don’t have to remind me.” I go to shut the door but Sue sticks her foot out and stops me from doing so. I narrow my eyebrows at her and give her a questioning gaze.
“Please…” She but all begged. “Tonight. Meet me at her headstone, tonight, would you? Midnight. I’m being serious. Trust me on this, would you? I know you have no reason to… but please.. if not for me, for Carrie.”
“Fine. I’ll think about it. Now, I have to go.”
“(Y/N), wait-”
Before she could finish her sentence, I’m  closing the door in her face and storming back to my bedroom, falling onto my mattress with an ‘ugh’ leaving my lips.
For the past few days, I didn’t do anything expect cry and scream into my pillow.
The moment I got back under the covers and buried my face under several blankets and two of my pillows,  the tears came rushing back down.
I was surprised I still had tears left in me from all the crying I had done, truth be told.
I tried, really, I did… to be strong but it was so hard. Especially when Carrie wasn’t here to make things better.
It was so difficult to live when  the one person you kept yourself alive for is no longer around…. it’s hard to live when your heart is no longer beating.
The day Carrie White died was the day a little part of me died, too.
*~*
It was 11:50PM.
The house was eerily silent. The only noise, from where I was at in my bedroom, was the whistle of the wind and the gentle knocking of tree limbs outside on my window.
I glance at the clock by my bedside table. It now read 11:52.
I sigh and sit up, my feet touching the cold hardwood floor. I rub my hands over my face tiredly as I try to come to a decision whether or not I wanted to meet Sue at Carrie’s gravestone.
I came to the decision… yes, I should go.  After all, I wanted to make sure nobody wrote any more harsh and ruthless slurs on Carrie’s grave.
Even in death, they wouldn’t let her rest and wouldn’t stop picking on her.   Carrie should be able to rest and yet there’s hundreds of people who forbid her from doing so. It was a shame.
People say Carrie White is a monster or the daughter of the Devil himself but in reality, the only monsters are the ones  that won’t leave that poor girl alone.
"If you look in the face of evil - evil's going to look right back at you."
*~*
The time I got to the cemetery  it had just turned midnight.  As I exited out the car, it seemed as if the howl of the wind grew louder upon my arrival.
“Hello?” I call out. My voice seems loud against the empty area and I grimace; I didn’t realize how wobbly it sounded until I had spoken.
(I blamed that on all the off and on crying sessions I’ve done recently.)
“Sue? Are you there? Hello?”
Nothing.
I groan and face palm, shaking my head from side to side. I should’ve known not to come. I should have known better and yet-
“(Y/N).”
My eyes dart forward and I feel my knees begin to buckle out underneath me and all the air in my lungs is snatched away from me.
“(Y/N).” She repeats, walking toward me and gives me a wry smile. “Hi.”
“C-Carrie?” My voice shook and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There she was, alive, breathing and all.
And she was right in front of me.
“You… I thought you were dead.” I was speechless. I could barely form any sentences without stumbling over my words.
“That’s why I’m here,” Carrie explained, stepping closer to me.  She rests the palm of her hand across my cheek, fingers brushing over my skin and I shudder, goose bumps prickling ever so softly across my arms.
“I didn’t know how to tell you….” She continued, sighing as she moves a loose piece of hair back and out from my face, tucking it behind my ear.
“I didn’t want anyone to know but Sue found me  on the side of the road when my house collapsed… she took me under her wing and helped me out.” She informed.  Carrie looked up and gave me a shy smile, her cheeks turning a bright rosy red.
“She insisted I should tell you, too… I was wanting to tell you, regardless but… I had been so scared. I’ve been terrified recently…. and with everything that happened, I only got more scared and… well, I thought you’d be like them and laugh at me or go on and tell the world where I was at and-”
“Carrie, I love you.” I blurt, unable to stop the words from forming out my mouth.
“I’d never, in any way, hurt you. I’ve loved you for the longest time and I thought…. I thought you were dead, Carrie… and it truly felt like I lost a piece of myself, too.”
The blush on Carrie’s cheeks grows darker, deeper as she nods. Tears swell in the corner of her eyes and she laughs softly, taking her hand away from my cheek as she wipes her eyes, sniffling quietly.
“I know. Sue told me, too… and I didn’t believe her. How could anyone love a freak like me? The laughing stock? Everyone’s personal punching bag..” Carrie smiled sadly as she shook her head.
“Mama told me it was a sin, you know? Love only is shared between a man and a woman. Not two men or two women together but… I realized I’d rather burn in Hell and be with the person I love than to go to Heaven being the person I’m not. I love you, (Y/N).
“I prayed every night for a friend and you came into my life at the time I needed you the most. You’re not only my best friend but my blessing, too.” By the time she’s finished talking, I’m crying and pulling her into my chest, hugging her tightly.
“I love you, I love you, I love you.” I repeat.  “From the moment I met you in the library and we bonded over our favorite novels together at the start of school, I knew I wanted to be your friend. I could care less what others thought.
And then when we went to the park that Saturday evening and had a picnic, I knew I loved you then…. I knew that no matter what, whether we were friends or more, I always wanted to make you happy, Carrie White.”
“And you do,” she reassured, voice cracking as she buried her head in the crook between my shoulder and neck. “You make me the happiest girl alive. I’ve never known true happiness until you came into the picture, (Y/N).”
I pull a little bit of ways out and take her face, pressing my hands across her cheeks and with little to no hesitation, I press my lips hungrily against hers.
Carrie, almost instantly, kisses back.
“I love you.” I murmur into the kiss, not daring to pull away.
“I love you.” She muttered. Through the kiss, I can feel the corners of her lips curling up into a smile. A grin finds its way across my face, too.
“Let’s go… let’s get out of here.” She said, pulling back as she looks up and into my eyes. “Let’s leave Chamberlain and never look back.”
And so, well, we did.
Carrie White wasn’t your average or your typical ordinary girl. She had powers, as I came to find out. I knew there was something unique, something special about her and now I knew what it was.
Carrie White wasn’t a demon. Or the daughter of the Devil or none of that sort.
Carrie White was simply just a girl, ready to start her own life and accomplish her own goals and seek happiness.
And I, (Y/N) (L/N) would do anything to help her achieve that.
Carrie White deserved better than to live in fear and shame.
Carrie White, just like anybody else, deserved to be happy.
So, whether you believe me or not, I don’t care.
If you still think she is a monster in disguise or whatever; I do not care.
I know the truth. Sue Snell knows the truth, too. Carrie White is anything but a monster.
Carrie White is, and forever will be, my girl.
And that’s just that.
End of story.
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powercloud · 3 years
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At The End of The Day
pairing: tsukishima kei × reader
wc: 2.4k
genre: fluff, pining!tsukki
warnings: timeskip tsukishima, ooc tsukishima maybe(?) He's just so in love with you okay :(
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The night was getting colder, the sky already a pretty shade of black, and the moon hung over their heads with a smile. Tsukishima took this as a good sign as if the moon smiling is a green light to pursue his plan. He looks over to you, your eyes distant and looking straight ahead, you were bracing yourself under the blazer he lent you. The view was astonishing. Under you and him the city was busy, flashes of light twinkling brightly, almost nearly outshining the bright stars above. The breeze was noisy as well, blowing your and his hair. But the warmness of Tsukishima’s heart was enough not to completely freeze him over, he was more worried about you though. But after a few stolen, glances he figured you were all right. The rooftop was your favorite, you've gotten used to it.
It's been silent between the two of you. You always fill in the quiet with your antics and puns and dumb realizations, but Tsukki supposes that’s why he was oddly fond of you after a week of knowing you first year in high school.
It’s been years since he concluded he was in love with you. Specifically three, but if he ever mentions the exact number he feels like a hopeless idiot. If he told you about that, would you call him so? He’d never know unless he confesses.
Tsukishima tightens his grip on the metal railings, his knuckles turning white. He bites his lower lip, nearly making it bleed. He’s nervous, he’s scared but he’s willing to push through it. All for you.
Tsukishima steals yet another yearning glance at you, this time his head snaps forward when you caught him red-handed cheeks turn a bit red before he sniffs and got a hold of himself. You laugh gently at his uncharacteristic expression.
“Something bothering you?” you ask, taking one or two steps closer to him. Any more he’d explode.
“Nothing,” Tsukishima lies. And you know this because you always have this certain facial expression where you’re unsure of his answer; one well-defined eyebrow rise, the bridge of your nose scrunched slightly, and your lips on a pout. You always were adorable when you were sure he was lying.
“Well, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Sometimes Tsukki wishes you knew how close he held you in regard, how he won’t get upset if you push him further into questioning. Hell, he’d tell you the truth right away.
But you turn away, leaving him be and respecting his privacy, eyes back forward and thoughts miles away.
Tsukishima follows where you were looking, and he wonders what you were thinking. The future? The past? The inevitable fall of humanity and the universe?
Him?
Tsukishima would very much like to know if you’d thought of him. He won’t hesitate to tell you he’s thinking of you, too. Most days you never go away from his mind. He wants you to think of him right now as he’s thinking of you, too. But Tsukishima thinks that’s not the case. You never look so troubled when you were thinking of a person unless you worried.
Tsukishima nudges your elbow with his, and finally, he looks at you straight in the eyes, flushing lightly as always. “What’s bothering you?” He asks, his mouth in a straight line, seemingly uncaring.
“Nothing, just—” you sigh deeply, shoulders falling. Tsukki holds his breath, maybe it would be you that confesses? He always thought you liked him back. Tsukki waits as your gaze flutter from the city below then finally to his honeysuckle eyes. “I don’t know if I’d rather wake up in the middle of a war or the middle of a zombie apocalypse.”
He mentally slapped himself for assuming you’d be the first to say something sentimental.
Of course, he thought to himself disappointingly. On a daily, you weren’t even worried about important things like school or true love. You were thinking of choices you’d likely choose in a situation that would never happen, like the zombie apocalypse you mentioned.
You don’t think of me much, do you?
Tsukishima tries to hide his disdain. “I thought you said you had a plan when the zombies come.”
“Yeah, but I mean, like at the beginning of every zombie apocalypse movie, y’know. Like when they start growing in rapid numbers, and the panic rising out of people, the raging undead and their unquenchable thirst for human blood. As in the part where they just start flooding in.” you were very dramatic in using hand gestures. “I don’t know what I would do if that suddenly happened.
“That would never happen,” said Tsukki and you frown, and he smirks, always enjoying irking you. “Neil D. Tyson already said so.”
“Thank God. But still—if it could, what would you rather wake up in the middle of, Tsukki?” you ask him, leaning closer again and his heart palpates. “War or the apocalypse?”
He pretends he’s thinking hard, then he just shrugs nonchalantly, then you whine and tell him how he’s such a killjoy. If he were honest and cheesy, whatever situation he’d suddenly wake up to, Tsukishima wouldn’t hesitate to protect you in either one.
“Women can’t fight in a war, pick war,” Tsukki said, and he smirks again as you scoff and roll your eyes.
“You know how much I’m brave.” Oh, he knows alright. You were intensely afraid of heights, yet look where your favorite spot in the whole world is. “I wouldn’t think twice to enlist,” you said, chest puffed out. “’sides, it’s the 21st century, Tsukki, equality is much softer now. It's indulged..”
“And?” Tsukki encourages you to go on as it looked like you wanted to add something.
“War is worse than hell. I’m fine laying down my life for what’s right, but I’m not ok with children dying or starving, or widows crying over their dead husbands or wives, or old people going cripple. I don’t like seeing good people get hurt.”
God, you were always such a fucking wholehearted, good, kind, courageous, generous person. He loves you so fucking much it hurts to think you’d sacrifice your life for the people you don’t even know.
“Always such a martyr, aren’t you?” you punch Tsukishima on his shoulder. He only laughs at your feeble attempt to hurt him. When you push yourself away to frown again, Tsukki softens. “If you think those kinds of people don’t deserve to die you need to know that you don’t deserve it, too. Fuck dying for the country. Wars are bullshit.” Tsukki had to cut out the part where he’d say he’d want you to hide with him. Later, he tells himself, it's too early.
“Well, you’re not wrong,” you said.
“I have never been.”
“Shut up, jackass.”
“You first, dumbass.”
After a few petty insults are thrown at each other you both settle down with Tsukishima letting you win. He doesn’t care if you call him a salty bitch, as long as he gets to see you grin triumphantly after.
Then it was silent again. The wind was stronger this time. One blow and you gripped Tsukishima’s blazer and winced as you took the cold bite. Tsukishima wanted to wrap his arms around you to keep you warm, uncaring of the fact he was cold, too. Very. He had nothing else on besides his thick sweater, apparently not thick enough. Tsukishima wanted to lead you downstairs, back to the party which he’s sure has died down by now. It was nearly 2 in the morning.
But before you two could go he wanted to say something first. Confess before another perfect moment like this slips from his fingers. He looks at you, and you’re so gorgeous. Your hair is a perfect mess behind your head. Your cheeks are flushed, and you kept wetting your lips as the cold had dried them. The city lights shadowed perfectly on the half bottom of your face, the stars mirrored in your eyes. You were serene, too. Seemingly enjoying this time. This time with him.
It was either now or never.
“I love you,” he told you. Except he told the wind instead as another harsh blow blew on the rooftop. You and him wince simultaneously, but both for very different reasons. You hadn’t heard him, that was obvious, because you hadn’t as much reacted any differently. Tsukishima knows you weren’t pretending to not hear him either. Unlike him, you weren’t mean. You would even acknowledge the ignored person who tried to relay a message across a group with a curt nod, and an inviting smile—you listened, as Tsukishima was the reason for that person being reluctant in talking.
Tsukishima frowns, his heart falling. Above him, the smiling moon disappears behind a gray cloud, a red light. Maybe tonight wasn’t the night after all. Maybe no night was the night. But it would be stupid of him to give up after one try. Tsukishima would never forgive himself for letting you go so easily. He knows at the end of the day it’d always be you he loves. He knows he’ll follow his heart to you even though it would break sometimes.
Jesus, he thought. Love is frightening.
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A few months later was another perfect moment to tell you Tsukishima’s true feelings. He had just come home from his night shift from the museum, coffee in his hands yet he was still tired and exhausted, but when he saw you sitting down in front of his apartment door, waiting, he smiles to himself.
Once you sensed him, you looked up from the floor you were sitting on, eyes huge and jade. Most people compare eyes to oceans or galaxies. Not your eyes though, they reminded Tsukishima of his favorite thing. Glancing down and his tiny plastic toy dinosaur, and then sliding further down to your green eyes. Tsukishima realized that’s probably why he felt so awake when he was with you. You were like a loud inspiring roar in the morning.
You had plans, you told him. There was a spot in the park, though you suppose it wasn’t even part of the park anymore. There was a forest, more natural than man-made, just beside the park. And when you were bored one day, you ventured through it and found the most amazing spot to view the sky. There were no outside noises, not another human has found it, you prided yourself in that. There were lots of pests and insects though, which was why you brought with you two huge blankets.
So there you two were, beneath the galaxy, feeling small and vulnerable to alien sight. But it was utterly beautiful.
The two of you lie on top of a small hill covered in grass and pretty flowers, there were trees around but it was a clearing where you and he were at. Looking up it was as if the sky was moving and the stars were burning bright. He held your hand shamelessly. And he thanked every God listening when you didn’t pull away, instead you wrapped it firmly as if you’d be taken by a UFO and he’d be your only grip to this Earth.
“Did you see that, Tsukki?” you asked, flabbergasted. You had to let go of his hand to prop yourself up and point to the violet sky. “I think I saw an alien ship!”
“They’re coming to get you,” Tsukishima said. Leaning on his elbow to snicker at you. “Their long-lost family.”
You punch him on his shoulders and he laughs. It’s been years but Tsukishima knows his saltiness isn’t going anywhere.
You lie down again, Tsukishima does the same but this time he can’t hold your hand, not when it's clasped with your other hand and laying on top of your stomach. He hides the fact he’s a tad bitter about that.
“Did you know,” you began, Tsukishima turns to you, intently listening because the stars have never captured him like the way it captured you anyway. What he felt about you, you felt in the infinite universe. Tsukishima’s fine being a close second. “Most people forget dinosaurs have ears because dinosaur ears don’t have bones.”
Tsukishima glares at you incredulously. First of all, how dare you question his lengthy knowledge about dinosaurs. Second, he knows for a fact that’s not true and that you stole it off a kid’s show you watch every fall.
“And that’s a rock fact!” you said, proud and overjoyed. But of what? You didn’t get to fool him successfully.
“No, it’s not, you idiot.” Tsukishima went his way to flick your forehead harshly. When he pulls his hand away you nearly bit off a finger.
Feral bitch, Tsukishima thought affectionately.
“Ok, fine, how about—” you trail off, a finger tapping on your chin, eyes darting from one dead star to another. “Most books on witchcraft tell you witches work naked.” Tsukishima knows which show you got this from off, too. “And that’s because most books on witchcraft are written by men.”
"Now, that I won’t deny.”
The two of you laughed lightly before looking back up again, heart alight. This time, Tsukishima stares at the stars, trying to find reason why you were so smitten with it as he was with you. He tries to find something in between the spaces of dead stars and see if there’s something like that in him, too. So that maybe you can love him as much as you loved the infinitesimal. He doesn’t find anything, unfortunately, he’s distracted by your harmonious humming.
“Tsukki,” his heart skips a beat. You say his name so magically it's hypnotic. He didn’t think he’d fall in love further just by the way you say his name.
“Yeah, y/n?” he cringes at how soft he sounded.
He looks at you, glazes over your direction to see you already looking at him. And his body is on fire. There was something different with you, with the way you look back at him. Something entirely different.
Finally, Tsukishima thought, staring deeper into your glossy eyes, you’re looking at me like I’m something you love, like I put the stars in your sky.
“I love you.”
And the moon in him explodes.
“I love you, too.”
And it’s the end of the day. You’re still and always will be the one that he wants
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**Spoilers for 11.4** Some babbles concerning "Rendition":
Dog barks so much, he'd be a total liability in a real ZA. And it's always the same audio bark loop, I mean, c'mon, that's as lame as it is lazy. I don't have to hear Dog to see him, and in a ZA, no one should.
How realistic is it that Leah is the only woman among fifteen savages like the Reapers, and isn't being passed around among them like a tray of party snacks?
I want Dog to kill Leah in the end. Not Daryl. Not Carol. Dog. Leah clearly still has a thing for Daryl. This is why (in my mind) he can't be the one to kill her. It would be just too cold for our redneck archer, who is a soft and fuzzy teddy bear inside. And Carol doesn't need to be further stigmatized by slaying her soulmate's ex.
The way Leah chloroformed Daryl is sneaky and cold as hell. If he had any illusions about what might exist between them, it should've ended there.
Water boarding. Afghanistan. Shades of Guantanamo, Blackwater, and the Bush regime. That's not an accident. For anyone who hasn't noticed yet, Season 11 is especially political.
Where did Leah find a cosmetologist to color her hair in the ZA? It looks blonde to me, not gray. Speaking of hair, how much does Leah look like Carol in some scenes, it's like a mirror. Her hair (long & swept back), her stance, her sheer badassery? Even down to the locks of hair dangling alongside her face. @gunmetal-ring (I think, apologies if it was someone else) refers to this as Evil Carol, and I have to agree. It's so obvious.
Daryl in a concrete box again... hey wait, I've seen this movie before... except this time, he's clothed and not tortured with "Easy Street" and eating dog food sandwiches.
Oh goodie, religious fanatics. Pope talking in tongues is a nice touch to ramp up the crazy. Just when you thought the Whisperers were as whacked as they get. Also, is it just me, or is Pope the spitting image of Walter White, aka Heisenberg? I see you, AMC.
Leah: "Couldn't have been happy. Not in a world like this." I see this as foreshadowing for Caryl who WILL find happiness in their world.
I really really don't want Leah to redeem or sacrifice herself to save Daryl, please don't make her that would be too fucking much to stomach.
Pope tells Leah, "I just see a guy who wants to get in your pants," "...who couldn't stop gazing at somebody he loved." (Caryl Caryl Caryl, cuz we know how Daryl gazes at Carol, riiight?) Ok So maybe Pope needs new glasses cuz I didn't see that at all re Daryl gazing at Leah, but whatever...
Love how Pope told Leah he trusted her more than the others, then tried to fry her crispy in that shack with Daryl. Reaper love is weird. And Leah telling Daryl "you left me." Bitch, you ran off and abandoned your DOG. So, don't even.
Also, how is it they can start all these fires on TWD and they never blow up into a conflagration that burns half the state? That's what would happen where I live.
Every time I heard "Bossie," a cow mooed in the back of my head.
If he's only got 15 people I don't see how Pope made the good call by frying one of them in the campfire.
Carol was religious once, too. Just a random thought.
Where is Dog? What happened to him?
Once again, Leah levels the business end of her shotgun at Daryl. You think he'd learn.
Of course Leah has feelings for Daryl. He's a man of honor.
Pope: "human nature is to run when you are scared.... It takes divine strength to face your fear head on. To risk everything for someone else." Remind you of anyone?
The smouldering embers on Daryl and Leah's clothing as they escaped the burning shack was a nice effects touch.
Did I mention I am thoroughly enjoying S11, so far?
Caryl need to suffer a long separation, if we want an epic Caryl reunion that double duties to wake their asses up. Therefore I won't be shocked or dismayed if they are still apart at the 11A finale.
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