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mikareo · 4 months

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“ ࣭⸰ ★ 1:04 AM . . . nanami kento (0.5k)

contains; nanami x fem!reader, established relationship, timestamp, extremely suggestive (but it's sfw) author's note; i found this in my docs from 2021

nanami kento is a dreamboat.

he gasps at the slightest touch of your hands, your fingertips grazing his navel—reaching below the hem of his sleeping shirt and pulling it up and over his head. the fabric is nothing but a loose garment in respect to the events that are about to take place; events that you’ve looked forward to since the moment he’d spoken his first words to you— that silly little order of coffee you’d never forget…not that you’d ever even want to forget a single second of time at his side.

“please,” nanami murmurs against your lips.

he surges forwards again and again in attempts to get closer to you— to feel your warmth and reside in it until the sun rises over the horizon. you, his beautiful sunshine girl; the person that he wants to spend the rest of his life with. the only girl that he’s ever said those meaningful three words to. “i need more, baby. i need more of you. no one else, just you.”

“just me?” you smirk, ghosting his lips and leaving him longing for more.

rather than giving him exactly what he wants, which would be no fun at all, you take in the view, admiring the man that you’re so lucky to call yours. with his disheveled hair, void of styling gel and structure, he looks like something out of a movie. an actor on the silver screen staring at the costar that he accidentally fell in love with— a real-life fairytale, a real-life happily ever after. if there was a romance written based on your love story, you’d watch it a million times and more; over and over again until the dvd is too scratched up to play, to which you’d then move on to streaming services and have that film forever. nanami is better than a male lead from a romcom or kdrama.

he’s a dream.

he’s a dream you get to live every night.

as you grip his face with your hands— tracing the corners of his jawline with gentle ease and love— your gaze dips down and notices your favorite part of the view. his toned skin and hardened abdomen are both things that you can never get used to no matter how often you stare. a six-pack, bordering eight, that’s yours for the keeping— a body like the gods, gifted to you in a garden of golden apples just for your picking.

“kento,” you sigh out, breathing heavily and sighing at the feeling of his lips against your neck. no doubt, he’s leaving countless bruises and marks on your plush skin, with shades of purple and blue coming out of their hibernation and into the light that is the dawn of day— night turning to morning behind the sheer shades of your bedroom windows. “how is it that you’ve got me begging?”

letting out a harsh chuckle, he takes a hold of your torso, rolling over on the mattress in order to change your position— finding his natural place above you and dominating his presence over your meek posture.

“quiet, baby.” nanami commands, reaching upwards and away from your waist. his thick fingers near your mouth, briefly taking them inside before yanking your chin down. “suck.” his eyes are dark, forcing you forward and down his digits. “suck like a good girl.”

you’re in for a long night.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀will be an ongoing set of timestamps w/ nanami ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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euphoriaslux · 13 days

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a gloomy december morning

word count: 1196

warnings: suggestive sexual content, very slight jealousy, mentions of smoking and drinking. vincent being a dreamboat

a/n: i have never written before but i watched anatomy of a fall and knew what i had to do. i am so scared and think this is garbage but i hope u guys like it :))

vincent is fast asleep, a true rarity for your household. he’s naked, bar the thin linen blanket draped over his hips that his mother tossed in a bag when you two first moved into this home. you brush your fingers through his silver hair, shifting to give him a soft peck on his forehead. he shifts but ultimately stays in the same position.

smiling, you gently move your duvet off of your body, shivering at the lost warmth. you scan your shared bedroom, littered with strewn clothes, empty wine bottles and folders filled with documents and find a chair with an old tee shirt on it that hits just above your underwear.

you made a mental note to at least try to clean the house sometime soon, but you just couldn’t leave your vincent alone now that you finally had him for more than two hours at a time. after a year of only seeing him at night, or when you could visit his office during your lunch break, or over facetime in the early hours of the morning, something as simple as waking up with him felt sacred. you didn’t know how much of this you had.

you brace as you push the door close as quietly as possible, hissing as your feet hit the cold tile of the linoleum of your kitchen floor. it still smells vaguely of the cake you two shared last night, picking at pieces of tiramisu between gulps of white wine and sneaky kisses even though no one was watching. you grab some ground coffee and start to heat up your stovetop espresso maker, which you got at the insistence of your very stubborn husband.

“love, can’t we just get an instant coffee maker? it will be so much faster” you ask from behind your laptop, tucked into your velvet sofa as the december rain gently pattered onto your roof.

vincent chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from the drawer.

“you have not had a real cappuccino if it comes from a machine, chérie,” he says as he rummages through the kitchen drawers while swearing under his breath.

you rise from the couch with a soft sigh, shutting your laptop and placing it on the glass table in front of you and grabbing vincent’s lighter that’s pressed in between the couch cushions. his head whips around when he hears you click the lighter, and your cheeks widen as you walk over to him. vincent smiles back, his cigarette loosely hanging between his lips and his hair slightly disheveled from his search. he leans down ever so slightly, looking into your eyes as the flame lights the cigarette, taking a long drag before leaning against the kitchen counter.

“the coffee is more, how do you say bien équilibrée in english, darling?”

“well rounded,” you toss the lighter behind him, crossing your arms over your chest. he hums, nodding as he breathes out wafts of smoke.

“the coffee is more well-rounded,” the word sounds a little funny coming out of his mouth as if you could see his brain forming each letter in real-time. you can’t help but giggle, reaching behind him to open the kitchen window.

“i’m sure it is”

before you can fully stand up again his hand is on your lower back, softly bringing your body against his. he smells like tobacco and the slightly too minty toothpaste you buy from the convenience store down the road. he looks so beautiful in the dim winter light.

“tu me fais confiance, n'est-ce pas? (you trust me, don’t you?)” he asks, pressing his fingers into your side. he moves to hover just above your neck, and you can’t help but melt into his touch as he nibbles ever so gently on your neck, just below your ear. your eyes flutter closed and you feel the warmth pool in your lower stomach.

“vincent-”

“ you do, right?” he cuts you off as his hand wanders to the front of your body, playing with the waistband of your panties. his fingers ghost just above your cunt, and you sigh.

“of course, my love. always.”

you whine from the loss of contact as he steps away from you, taking a drag with a slight smile on his face.

“bon,” he says, his free hand caressing the side of your face.

“so we’ll go get our moka pot - not machine - tonight”.

you grin at the memory as you pour two shots of espresso into vincent’s favorite mug, along with a splash of whole milk, and turn on the burner to make another for yourself. you rock on your feet as you think of what to make for breakfast - maybe eggs? but vincent forgot to run to the farmers market, maybe jam on toast. there might be some leftover brioche-

you jump when you feel a pair of hands wrap around your chest smiling as you feel your husbands face nuzzle into your shoulder, pressing a few faint kisses on your skin while his hair tickles your neck.

“i thought you’d sleep for a few more hours honey,” you say, turning around to hand him his cup of coffee and laughing as his eyes brighten. he takes a sip, closing his eyes as he drinks.

“couldn’t sleep,” he says after a few moments, opening his eyes to stare into yours. his voice is deeper than normal, and you can tell he just woke up because there’s still a gravelly edge to it.

“i sleep poorly without you, honey.”

you raise your eyebrows as you let your fingers graze his chest and down his stomach.

“that’s a good one, do you tell all your girlfriends that?”

he rolls his eyes, taking a big sip before setting his mug on the counter.

“i’m being serious. i swear, every time it would get late and i’d try to sleep on sandra’s couch, i just couldn’t.”

your body goes rigid at the sound of her name but you try and ignore it, tracing circles onto his stomach. your mouth feels a little drier than it was a few minutes before.

vincent notices, of course he does. there’s nothing you could do that would get past him, the stellar lawyer.

“don’t be like that,” he whispers, cupping your hand in his face. you try to keep your gaze down but he tilts your head up.

you roll your eyes.

“every day while i was gone, all i wanted was to be home with you. you were all i could think about. you are all i ever think about.”

you feel lightheaded at his words, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kiss him deeply, sighing as your hand wanders down to the waistband of his boxers. you feel him smile into the kiss, putting out the cigarette so he has both hands free to touch you.

“take me to bed?”

you feel vincent’s stomach tense as your hand dips into his boxers. he gives you a soft kiss on the side of your face.

“how can i say no when you ask so nicely”.

#vincent renzi #vincent renzi x reader #vincent renzi fanfiction #swann arlaud #swann arlaud x reader #swann arlaud fanfiction #anatomy of a fall #anatomie d’une chute #anatomy of a fall fanfiction

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mintaikcorpse · 11 months

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Steven Stone headcanons because he's one of my favorite characters

-He's really good at old timey electroswing dances, and shit at any other ones. Probably dances like this with Wallace

-If he and Wallace ever got married, he'd probably propose with a rose quartz ring because they symbolize love and compassion

-I like to believe that he's had his metagross ever since he was a kid. In the games, he also mentions how his favorite pokemon is beldum. It'd be cute to think of him getting his metagross as a beldum, as well as it being his first pokemon

-No, but the games go out of their way to talk about how attractive he is (especially team magma and team aqua). He's aware of all of it, but chooses to ignore it. Does get awkward or flustered anytime someone flirts with him

-He can and will go on four hour tangents talking about his favorite rocks (he literally talked to deoxys about a cool rock I can't with him-)

-Owns metagross shorts. In fact, change his summer outfit in masters to wear metagross shorts, and we're all good

-This isn't really a headcanon, but masters mentions how he likes Hoenn Rangers (pkmn version of power rangers) and I like the idea of him being a super hero comic nerd

-Considering the fact that he goes and hands out rocks to people, he is most likely the one that helped Wally find a dawn stone and a moon stone to evolve his gallade and delcatty

-Sits on his Metagross doing whatever (reading, messing with his rocks, sleeping) and Metagross just kinda lets it happen

-His favorite candy is rock candy

-When he found out what Terra stones where, he put Wallace in charge of being Champion for like 6 months as he raced his way to Area Zero

-Has autism with stones being his special interest (idk if it's real, but I can't get over the line above)

-Ironically, he doesn't like rock music. He heard it once and never again

-Really enjoys art museums and all that kind of stuff, especially statues. Him and Cynthia go together anytime one of them visits

-Has lickded at least 5 rocks and has attempted to eat at least 1

-Both cares about neatness and doesn't care. When in caves, he won't care about getting his clothes dirty, but doesn't like getting messy outside of that

-Anime only: Has a soft spot for Maryn and Alain, and let's them get away with more than they should

-Enjoys boardgames a lot. In my champion roommate au, I can imagine Iris and Blue trying to teach Steven how to play Mario Kart or something, and he just sucks ass at it. But he's really good at Minecraft for some reason. Spends a lot of times in the game mining

-Really good friendswith Professor Sycamore and they talk about mega evolution and rocks together

-He sleeps in really soft pajamas and is sometimes a nerd about them. He has Skarmory, Cadilly, and Aggron onsies, and a pajama top with beldum patterns on it. Casual clothes would be T-shirts with words like, "Sinnoh Rocks!" and then having a lot of evolutionary stones for the print pattern or something like that

-Aggron's dex entry mentions how they plant trees and soil to keep their mountains looking nice. Steven saw his Aggron doing this, and started doing a bit of gardening himself

-Wallace does, in fact, use the nickname "Silver-haired dreamboat" for him and Steven looks like this anytime that happens

(I wanna make a post just rambling about originshipping because I love it a lot)

#i am so so normal about this franchise #i swear #pokemon #champion steven #pokemon steven #steven pokemon #steven stone #pokemon headcanons

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asterouslyaesthetic · 8 months

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my only motivation to replay omega ruby, other than the novelty of the PC having a dad and mr. silver-haired dreamboat, is the fact that the rival has a crush on you

because when i was playing, brendan had the misfortune of stumbling across me while my pokemon were all healed but STILL insisted on healing them up

so i jokingly said he has a crush on me

then i played through the rest of the game

and i think a lot about awkward dork brendan who has a crush on the pretty girl from next door and doesn't know how to bond with her beyond pokemon and so uses the fact that she's a trainer as an excuse to hang out with her

#pokemon #pokemon oras #trainer brendan #trainer may #hoennshipping #brendan is surprisingly cute #like i wasn't invested in him as much as i was with hau right off the bat #or barry for nostalgia's sake #but he and wally turned out to be really good

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thena0315 · 2 years

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Steven may have lost the Master Tournament, but he’s still our handsome silver-haired dreamboat of the Hoenn Region

#Steven Stone #Champion Steven #Pokemon #Hoenn #anipoke #pokeani #World Coronation Series #Pokemon World Coronation Series #Pokemon Master Tournament #Pokemon Journeys #Pokemon Ultimate Journeys

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packedandstrapped · 7 months

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hii i need help. i seen the hottest butch i’ve literally ever seen at my little sisters volleyball game she was tall w grey curly hair🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤 and wearing basketball shorts🤤🤤🤤 (she was the coach) and i’m usually not shy but when i saw her i just clammed up like i could not speak or anything. she has another game against that school in like a month🤞 but i’m so nervous i wanna talk to her sooo bad but i feel like she’ll either have a wife (she didn’t have a ring on so idk) or she will think i’m too young (i’m 20) or maybe something else. but can u plz plz give me ideas on how to approach this beautiful lady i need her in my life so bad and i will treat her so good.

Thx in advance friend!

A hot butch with grey curly hair?! Sounds like a silver fox dreamboat! I have friends that were fully grey by 23 so I don’t think we can rule out an age gap just yet for y’all. Does the school she’s coaching for have a website with some info about the coaches? You could see if there’s some public information like:

Name-of-hot-grey-curly-butch brings to the team six years years of coaching and a masters in hot basketball coaching. She enjoys smallmouth bass fishing and lives in Stone, CA with her wife and nine children.

Then maybe you’ll have an idea of her age and situation.

But also don’t be afraid to just talk to her! Think of a basketball-related question or bring up a specific thing in her town (where the school is based). You might find out there’s an inappropriate age gap or she’s not even gay or she’s just not into talking. And that’s okay, but you never know until you try and you might make a new friend!

#y’all someone call me out if this is bad advice?#initiating a conversation with someone seems harmless #but this butch is working so is it inappropriate #anon #please report back!

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silversiren1101 · 10 months

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Let's goo how about 1 and 26 for Minoreg, and 8 and 15 for dracolich?

Hey Cassy! Yay! Questions for both couples! Also, little NSFT :3

1. What, specifically, was the catalyst for their physical attraction (if applicable) to the other character? In other words, what in particular had them like “Oh, they’re…hot…”

Minovae: she pretty much found him attractive from day one. He has a strong jawline, piercing eyes, dark complexion, bright purple hair, and is pretty fit/toned?? I actually have a person headcanon of mine that before he started Bleaching he was absolutely conventionally attractive and got a lot of attention for it and that just annoyed the shit out of him. I've mentioned before I see him as having a nice warm brown skin tone before, so combined with his deep purple hair and what used to be golden eyes? Absolutely was a little dreamboat.

Absolutely drove him crazy.

She, like many others, found him quite attractive from the minute she laid eyes on him.

Funny enough, she actually finds him more attractive with a bit of silver in his hair.

Regill: Golarion's most demisexual and demiromantic man... he knows she's objectively attractive but it does nothing to him until he's actually consciously in love with her. I'm going to let you in on a little dream smut fic of mine I've been rotating in my thoughts for like a year now.

After they kiss and start their relationship, he only figures out he's not 100% asexual when he wakes up in the middle of the night from a rather... colorful... dream, absolutely rock hard and completely bewildered "oh shit... what the fuck." Like, he's not a virgin, but he's never been physically attracted to anyone specifically. He's never fantasized about anyone or seen anyone as sexually or subjectively attractive. It's been over a century since he's had sex, and he fucked when he was younger only out of need of physical release because he had no outright desire otherwise and found the urge itself frustrating and humiliating. Only once he became a Hellknight did he quell those urges completely, but... oh, Mino... it's a massive shock to him and the demisexual panic is real. He tries to just go back to sleep and ignore the dream and the raging hard-on and the wild implications of something he didn't even think possible, but he physically can't because of how uncomfortable and insistent it is. Has to take care of it and he immediately finds his thoughts just filled with trying to figure out how she sounds when she moans and imaging her blissful face and her in the throes of pleasure and it's game over for him, lmao! He has such a hard time looking her in the face the next day.

Funny thing is, she's been doing much the same on her end pretty much every night.

26. They have an argument with their partner—what is it about? Do things stay respectful, or is there some shouting and accusing going on?

They are both extremely respectful in their disagreements. She knows him so very well, and knows how he's changed but also how he used to be, and understands he's at a crossroads with her having come back to him and he's trying to grasp some of his old brightness and pull himself from the grave he was sliding into before. Their arguments usually revolve around how they would handle a situation in their duties as Hellknights and military leaders. As both lawful people, they almost always agree when something is a crime. They disagree about how something should be solved. You know: execution vs rehabilitation, understanding the extenuating circumstances and intent vs. outcome... She remembers he wasn't always as harsh as he is now and he has opinions on how merciful she is, but also knows if her judgement is ever proven wrong she will take full responsibility and whatever blow herself.

The only time they've ever really had a real bad fight was the night they got together, when emotions were raw and so much catharsis was needed from how badly he was hurting from her cruelty beforehand (maddened beast) and his own confusion with his emotions. They only get close to that again when her martrydom-tendencies arise, leading to him getting stern and raising his voice to make her see reason (because gods, she has given enough of herself and if anyone deserves rest, it's her).

Later on, any 'arguments' are mostly civil disagreements on their parenting, lol. Regill is a pretty protective parent to their daughter while she is a "let them make mistakes and figure it out" one. They always have each other's backs and provide a united front to their little girl but in private they definitely have rather inspired talks on raising Jesyll and what is okay for her and what isn't (in their eyes).

Dracolich time.

8. What scares them about entering a relationship?

LMAO. Wow so much.

Morolai: Their relationship starts purely sexual and with massive power imbalance because of her absolute control as dom and sadism. Maegar was a moron but quite attractive, and now there's a more interesting being inside of that very hot body that is her new favorite toy to pester and bully. She has no fears about this sexual relationship: she's beat him once and knows she can pretty effortlessly kill him on her own if he so much as raises a finger against her. He lives because she allowed it and will die if she demands it, you know? When things start to shift to "uh oh that wasn't hate sex" right after the canon events of the game end, that's when she gets scared. What is she feeling? Why? WITH HIM?! AN ANCIENT PATHETIC CYCLOPS LICH?? MY FUCKING ANIMATE SEX TOY (that also makes me laugh and has really great riveting conversations to talk to and remarkably witty and so very loyal--)!?She is fearful of being subservient in anyway, losing power and control, being vulnerable, etc. But she is also far too arrogant and stubborn to bow down to even her own fear. Fine, so she doesn't hate him and isn't totally disgusted, is even a little endeared by this wretched creature who amuses her so much and also learned how to please her like such a loyal pup.

Vordakai: Ahahaha, so please remember he is canonically the weakest and most pathetic of his 'class' of acolytes. He only stole the title of Vordakai from the real Vordakai because he survived Earthfall by pure fucking luck. I really play up how pathetic he is so... absolute virgin. Taking Maegar's body for himself, and said body is VERY into Morolai and finds her immensely attractive is where his troubles begin and the humiliation and fear starts. What the fuck is he feeling? Why is this body doing this? Why is it around her? This gross disgusting fleshy body disobeying his control and giving in to impulse! Especially once she realizes it and physically teases him to the point he willingly approaches her for more, he's terrified and horny, horny because he's terrified and terrified because he's horny; vicious cycle. Eventually though he figures out the pattern: be a good pet and get rewarded. Sometimes she's into it enough he gets a little more than before, gets to see a little more of her own pleasure and enjoyment and for some reason that's... he's very curious about it all.

By the time the weird feelings-not-feelings start, he's not scared of them anymore so much as he's just, like, dissecting everything like a bug. Morolai is his queen, his gilded cage, the name that replaced his god in his mind as a dark and terrible mortal goddess. He's treading dangerous ground but ultimately knows he lives only by her right and... well he might as well enjoy it, because she is a worthy mistress.

So... I hesitate to call it love they feel, or a romantic relationship. They enter into a forever-companionship where they fuck and enjoy each other's presence, and understand each other and their secrets against the rest of the world around them. She is absolutely in charge and has all the power still, but rather than it being a captive and captor thing she's kind of replaced his fervent worship of Charon in his mind and everything he does with and to her is out of a very fucked up sense of devotion.

15. What, for them, constitutes a level of intimacy that they would only rarely share with someone? This can be physical, emotional, etc.

Morolai: It's all about power with Vordakai and constantly asserting her dominance and that she doesn't fear him. Part of this is actually purposefully displaying vulnerabilities around him or letting her guard! She is so self-assured in her power and his inability to kill her that she do such a thing almost to rub it into his face... at first. At some point it becomes genuine.

One of the big moments is when her wings first appear, violently erupting from her back during the fight with Armag in his tomb. They are extremely painful until the skin around the exit-holes scars over, and that first night back she's soaking in her private tub for hours just trying to soothe the pain. She summons him in the middle of the night to demand her rub in a magic healing poultice into her back the wings right where they emerged. So, laying flat on her front on her bed, totally nude and clearly in pain and weak, she allows him to straddle her and care for her wings in such a way when they're so sensitive and painful.

It's definitely one of the first moments of "devotion" that solidifies in his mind, an act of loyalty and genuine devotion to his queen and mistress. She trusted him with this. He's been a good pet. Especially since he gets rewarded for that, too.

Aside from that, letting him be on top is the biggest thing for them. Her giving up control and letting him worship her in that way solidifies their relationship and his loyalty as her supplicant and companion.

Vordakai: Well, she knows what he is first of all. This one I'm still working on, but... he tells her his real name. Vordakai is a stolen name from his master who perished in Earthfall, so he had to have a real name before that. The curse Tristian placed on him worked because he made Vordakai his whole being to the point that it supplanted his actual name as a "true name", but he does remember his original one. Eventually, she is granted the honor of knowing it.

She refers to him only as Maegar Varn and that name from then on, which actually means a lot because the curse on him lasts for as long as anyone knows the name Vordakai. Her not spreading knowledge of the name "Vordakai" is kind of working in his favor, which she does willingly.

From this list of questions!

#oc: minovae arangeir #oc: morolai valduin #pair: hellpair #pair: dracolich #regill derenge x minovae arangeir #morolai x vordakai #I have... so many fic ideas #and so little time #wrath of the righteous #pathfinder kingmaker #ask game

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books-are-my-life-stuff · 2 years

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FINALLY YOU ARE HERE, MR. SILVER-HAIRED DREAMBOAT

#personal #pokemon masters #i'm so happy....i finally have steven #wallace is no longer lonely anymore #he's still level 127 because i ran out of level up manuals but that can be fixed soon #i'm just so happy to get him

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i-write-boop-spoops · 5 months

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Link Cable (Pt. 2) - Steven Stone x Reader

thanks you so much to the anon who requested this! it's so juicy, i had to write it also why do i always write fics when i have an assignment due?

this of course, a sequel to Link Cable, so if you haven't read it yet, here's your chance! i think i should write a sequel to the leon version of that fic shameless plug to make it fair, yeah?

features: pregnancy, gn! reader, reader and leon are married, steven is angsty and full of regret. approx 800 words.

proofreading? i hardly know her!

He lets out a great sigh as he flops down on his plush seat. His left shoulder aches, spine sore and knees dull , a large sack of gems and stones nestled in the seat beside him. He groans a little as he rubs his injured shoulder.

He's getting too old for this.

No, that’s not true, he’s only just turned thirty-five. He just needs to take it easier from now on, not push himself as hard in the mine, not spend nearly a whole day there like he did today.

A chine rings out from the speaker. “The Hulbury-Wyndon express train will be departing the station shortly. Please take your assigned seats.”

Ah, it won’t be too bad. He’ll head back to the Rose of the Rondelands and avail of their spa, relax in their tepidarium and maybe get a massage. He’ll dine alone in their restaurant, with a glass or two of vintage whiskey, and turn in for an early night in his suite.

He leans back in his seat, and peruses the provided menu. Maybe he’ll order a cup of tea, and a small cake, a treat, for himself.

The sound of footsteps graces his ears. Looks like he won’t be the only passenger in the first class carriage. He doesn’t pay that any mind though, not even glancing away from the menu as they get situated a few seats behind him.

“Pleasure to have you on board Champion,” a feminine voice speaks aloud, no doubt the attendant for the first class passengers.

Steven blushes and shakes his head, putting the menu down. “Oh, there’s no need to call me-”

“Haha, I haven’t been Champion in years,” the friendly, bravado-rich voice of Galar’s previous champion rings out, followed by a soft, almost sheepish, chuckle.

Steven face falls.

Leon’s here.

He doesn’t dislike the man, no that’s not it, the mere mention of him just leaves a sour taste in his mouth and a panging in his chest. It’s envy, not malice.

After all, Leon has what he wants most… and he did so not through deceit or spite, he was just himself, a good man, a better man than he could ever be.

Steven sighs, he only has himself to blame.

“Would you like a hand with your luggage?” he hears the attend ask the other former champion.

Wait, if Leon’s here, does that mean…?

“Hehe, Lee’s got that covered,” your twinkling voice chines in, light and joyful. His heart skips a beat at the sound, even now, years since you last spoke, even longer since you were in love.

Despite himself, he glances between the seats, eager to get a glimpse of you.

There’s Leon, tall and broad, mane of crazy purple hair thicker and fuller than ever, an easy smile on his face as he effortlessly picks up a heavy looking suitcase and props it in the overhead rack. Like him, he’s older, looking more like a man now, but sill retaining that boyish charm. He must be about thirty.

And then, he spies you.

Shorter than Leon of course, and glowing more than ever, giddy smile on your lips, eyes wearing this almost cosy expression. You look good, not much different from when you last spoke. Your haircut is different sure, your style more casual, especially in those Shinotic-patterned overalls, but it’s unmistakably you.

His gaze drifts lower.

Steven’s heart aches at the sight, years of buried bittersweet feelings clawing out of the grave within his heart. Your stomach, ever-so-lovingly cradled by your hand, is swollen. Your bump’s not big, but it’s obvious.

You’re pregnant.

You’re pregnant with Leon’s child.

In a moment of weakness, awash in all his painful memories and mistakes, his mind runs down a path forbidden to him, another universe, where it would’ve been him.

He’d have been the one who put that child in you.

He’d be your husband. He’d be the one to put a hand so fondly on your tummy, to help you into your seat, to indulge your strange cravings.

And he’d be there when your baby was born. He’d hold them so carefully, this perfect little mix of the two of you.

But they’re not going to be a mix of the two of you, are they? No, they’re gonna be a mix of you and Leon.

He has to stop himself from letting out a pained sigh. He presses his head against the seat, gazing upwards at the ceiling, his expression desolate.

He can’t change the past, he knows that. He can’t change the fact he neglected you and you found someone so much better, and yet, even now, what he would give to be in Leon’s position.

A part of him thinks to stand up, say something, congratulate you on this blessing, pat Leon on the shoulder, give this whole (disingenuous) show of support, but he’s not enough of a man to do that, to face you, with everything you ever wanted, everything you ever deserved.

So instead, he sits, and gazes out the window as the train rolls out of the station, pretending that, just down the aisle, someone else is not living the life he wants so desperately. That he should have lived, had he not been so selfish.

#steven stone x reader #steven pokemon #pregnancy #steven stone #champion steven #champion steven x reader #steven pokemon x reader #fic #request #silver haired dreamboat #tsuwabuki daigo x reader

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silverhaireddreamboats · 11 months

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something that must be accepted is-

Rouge the bat Counts for this blog pft.

#shdb #silver haired dreamboats #rouge the bat #sonic the hedgehog #silver does not ... yet. xD #yet to be seen

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local-pokesimp · 2 years

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Ur really howling for Steven huh? “Local-Pokesimp stares intently, drinking up the delectable sight of the stunning male specimen they were lucky enough to encounter out in the wild. Trying not to drool, they camouflage themselves as the ground, so that when the silver-haired dreamboat excitedly ran past at the sight of a shiny new stone, the pleasurable weight of his shoes would be felt upon their back.” 👁👁🥵🥰 I’m so sorry lmao, next episode on the adventures of Pokesimp uhh +

GODDAMN– squealing kicking my legs giggling like a fucking idiot I am so horrendously down bad for this man I'm so sorry also got a spare 20 minutes before class so yeaaaahhhh

Also how'd you know that petting is one of my weak points damn, anon you a Psychic type or something? Fksdjksndisjdisja the things I'd do for this man I swear

#pokemon #steven stone #champion steven #daigo tsuwabuki #steven stone simp posting #anon ily sm #i would fucking kiss you rn ngl #but oh GODDAMN steven #anon this some good shit

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mooropitant399 · 2 years

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Heart very soft for a certain silver haired dreamboat right now

#Steven stone #i have an allergic reaction to simping and i’m constantly breaking out in hives

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rissararity · 29 days

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Mercy Rose - (Steve Rogers/oc)

(Spring formal drama, missed opportunities, oblivious Steve)

Word count: 1090

CHAPTER THREE:

“I’m telling ya, Pal, Darlene will at least let you cop a sympathy feel.”

Steve's cheeks burned and he shook his head, “No she’d never go to the dance with me. She’d probably just laugh if I asked her.”

Bucky shrugged, “Yeah but think of all you have to gain!”

“I don’t want to use a gal for her body, I like her for who she is.”

The brunet scoffed, “What do you know about who she is? Have you ever….talked to her?”

The blonde looked away, “No, I haven’t. But I want to…sorta.”

Mira entered the living room holding three bottles of coke, “Want to what?” She placed one in front of each of her friends and took her place in her favorite arm chair while the boys sat on the couch.

“Steve wants a date to the spring formal but he’s too chicken shit to ask out the girl he wants.”

The scrawny boy’s jaw dropped and he sputtered a protest, weakly punching Bucky’s arm and getting a laugh.

“Most of the girls already have dates.”

“Mm, the ones worth asking do at least.” Bucky agreed, “What about you, Doll? Who’s taking you to the spring formal?”

Mira’s blush was very much visible as her stomach sank, eyes flicking down with sadness for a moment before rising to meet his again.

Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times but no words came out, her teary eyes spoke volumes.

Steve's eyes grew wide as he realized none of the boys she thought might ask her had.

No one had.

And Bucky just said all the girls worth asking already had dates.

He rubbed his temples as it clicked for him seconds before it did for Bucky, who’s mouth dropped as well as he stammered about how he didn’t mean it and it didn’t apply to her for some reason she was already too numb to hear.

“I’m going to make us a snack.” She stood and left the room, voice stiff.

Steve bucked up the courage to ask Darlene to the dance to his surprise she said yes- Only to ditch him at the entrance, her friends whisking her away immediately.

Bucky and his date left shortly after they arrived to look at the stars.(Go to the overlook for car sex.)

Steve spent most of the dance trying to find his date but she was clearly avoiding him. Tears pricked at his eyes but he locked his jaw and kept them in.

Giving up and body tired, he sat down at one of the abandoned tables trying to catch his breath.

After a rustle of fabric, he looked up and was rendered speechless for a moment at the sight of the angel sitting beside him.

Mira had never been more breathtaking than in that moment as she brought him a drink, offering a sad but supportive smile; his night had gone almost exactly like she worried it would.

Her golden hair sat in perfect victory rolls, winged eyeliner and darkened lashes. Her lips were painted a natural pink that complemented her skintone and her light blue dress made her silver gaze downright enchanting.

She may have shared a couple of physical traits with Darlene but being around her was entirely different.

And not just in the fact that it was possible.

The car ride with Darlene had been awkward, his hands sweat a weird amount all over the steering wheel of the car Bucky let him borrow.

Yes, she noticed.

But sitting here with Mira, even surrounded by all these people, he felt like they were they only two in the room. Her presence was a comfort, her eyes were Sterling silver but, somehow, never icy or cold.

If the gates of heaven were silver, Steve thought, they’d be that shade.

“I’m sorry, Dreamboat.” She gently squeezed his hand.

For the first time ever, he recoiled from her touch. She blinked in surprise as he looked around the room at their dancing classmates.

“It doesn’t matter. So who wound up asking you, Darlin?” he looked around the gymnasium for anyone coming toward them.

When she didn’t answer, he froze and looked at her.

She anxiously wrung her hands, “All the ones worth asking already had dates, I hear.”

Steve’s heart broke for her- her voice barely loud enough to be heard over the band.

Mira gulped before shaking herself a little, “It doesn’t matter.” She quoted the other blonde who frowned.

His own hurt feelings he was used to. But hers felt…unacceptable.

He wished he could tell her something smooth that would result in them dancing together and saving the evening…but without Bucky there to consult, he chickened out.

They sat in silence while the dance went on around them. Mira turned down a few dance offers, claiming her feet hurt but it wasn’t true.

“You don’t have to sit here with me and be miserable. Go dance, have fun.”

She shook her head, “I like being here with you.”

Steve was too awkward to speak comfortably to her like he normally could, and much too awkward to look at her long enough to see her deflate as the night went on.

They did, however, have their pictures taken.

After the dance, Steve gave her a ride home and found he could talk to her just fine as long as he wasn’t looking at her.

Looking at her made his heart race, his hands sweat and his pants get tighter. As long as he kept his eyes on the road, he’d be fine.

Gosh, how did Bucky do this and more?

And this was his friend, not even a crush like Darlene.

Since they only lived two houses apart, he took them both to his house. Mira sat in the car a moment too long, opened her door and got out-straightening her dress and taking a glimpse at her hair and makeup in a window with a closed curtain.

“Walk me home?” she asked, batting her lashes and turning slightly side to side.

Steve gaped for a solid couple of seconds before looking down, “I…I gotta do the d-dishes…”

Mira’s face fell, a spike of rejection stinging her chest.

She didn’t know it then, but Steve saw the look on her face and the change in her body language. Somewhat chewing on her lip, she tried to appear unaffected. “Alright well, thanks for the ride. Goodnight, Stevie.”

His cheeks flushed as she pecked his cheek and turned to walk two houses over to hers.

#marvel fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x oc #steve x oc #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers fic #pre serum steve

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rudolphxvalentino · 1 year

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Bitter. The drink is bitter as it slips down James’ throat, biting his cheeks as the harsh licorice taste of the absinthe slides into his stomach, warming him up. The situation is bitter as he replays the moments in his mind of him finding out his one true love, his wife, his Elizabeth, has fallen in love with another. One Mr. Rudolph Valentino, the man who is every girl’s dreamboat, living on the silver screen with his Italian accent and charming good looks. If James were anyone else other than her husband, he wouldn’t have blamed her for falling for a man such as Valentino. Though, he is… Well, he’s James Patrick March, for fuck’s sake! He’s a millionaire. A handsome one at that, if he did say so himself— and he gave her whatever he asked. Indulged in her odd fetishes (though, now he’s complaining, in the moment, he certainly did not), bought her the most lavish of gifts, dealt with her inability to feel true satisfaction for years, and this is how he’s to be repaid? To find her worming herself into a three way relationship between one of Hollywood’s finest and his wife? It wasn’t going to go unpunished. It couldn’t be. With James’ mental instability and insane jealousy, it simply couldn’t. So, Valentino is on his way to his famous Cortez. Invited by the owner himself to come stay a few nights and endorse the hotel to his Hollywood pals, and of course to share a drink or two with him. All innocent in the eyes of the guest, but James has more malicious intentions behind them. “Another absinthe, dear! Do not be so shy on the ice this time,” he smirks at the bartender as he awaits the man of all his envious nightmares to sit beside him.

@thejamesmarch

Valentino wasn’t even going to bother with it all. In all honestly, he almost didn’t even bothering looking at the invitation, where most days where he’d toss it aside with no care at all for it once placed between his fingers. Especially in comparison of a slew of other invitations, shows, parties, ones he might’ve found more interesting, intriguing, though he supposed it ended up in his grasp on a good day, a special day. It intrigued him, once he got a better look at it. Delicate handwriting, written in gold ink, standing out against a stark white background; The famous Hotel Cortez. And formally written out by the owner, and designer of the establishment too, a Mr. James Patrick March, not only welcome to stay a few nights, but to share a few drinks as well. Valentino had heard plenty talk of both names, but apart from that turned his nose up at the thought of visiting, at least until now. Now, he’s stepping into the building, surrounded by a luxurious red, black and gold interior, quick to be checked in and handed his room key, staff taking his luggage to his room for him. He pockets the key, slipping it safely, next to the small, white card he’d received, trudging up the stairs to what appears to be a small bar, to the man who was awaiting him. James isn’t what he expects; not someone older, perhaps greying, wrinkles adorning his features, tired, maybe. Instead, he’s breathtaking. Valentino can admit that at least, without any shame; he’s always been a firm believer that anyone should be able to admire a person, no matter what lies underneath their clothes. Beauty is beauty, of course. It takes Valentino by surprise though, his brows rising as he stops, taking in the other man. Instead, his features are sharp, a straight, delicate nose, pouty, pink lips, with a pencil thin mustache decorating the upper, pale skin contrasting with jet black, neatly combed hair, and the freckles scattered like constellations upon his cheeks. Valentinos favorite feature though, he realizes once he’s close enough, are his eyes. Dark, and obstinate as they flicker over, away from the green liqueur in his glass at his sudden presence. His finger flit over the smooth glass of the bar, not yet taking a seat. Instead he offers the hand out to James, outstretched with his palm up, awaiting the other’s to slide into his grasp. “You must be the one and only James Patrick March, yes? It’s a honor to finally visit your lovely hotel; and to meet you, of course, bella colomba.”

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