#but now this woman waits until the very last moment to tell me things

[jerzwriter]

Thank you to @snoopdogcone for this prompt for @choicesprompts Angstvember event! I hope you enjoy it!

Book: Open Heart (Book 2 timeline) Pairing: Tobias Carrick x Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 1,406 Summary: Tobias Carrick didn't do relationships. Not until he met Casey, but the closest he ever came in the past was Monica. He hadn't seen her for years, but they decided to catch up when she was in Boston for a visit. Will old sparks reignite, or has Tobias really changed?

A/N: Participating in @choicesmonthlychallengenov2024 Prompts: commitment, memories

It was just a drink.

Tobias repeated that to himself over and over as he headed to Yvonne’s. Nothing more than that. He hadn't been known for having serious relationships in the past, but if one person had come close to sharing that with him, it was Monica. He hadn't heard from her in years, and when she reached out to let him know she was in Boston, he didn’t think anything about meeting up. She was once an important part of his life, after all, and he was curious to see how she was doing. He was happy now, happier than he ever could have imagined with Casey. His exes? Monica included... they were from chapters in his life that were permanently closed. So, there was wrong with a drink for “old time’s sake.” It was just a drink.

Yvonene's was an upscale bar known for its understated elegance and dim lighting, but tonight, the energy was vibrant, and Tobias and Monica did their part to add to the festive atmosphere. His eyes sparkled as they talked; Monica hadn’t changed a bit. Her melodic laughter filled the air, and her dark waves shimmered each time she tossed back her head. They reminisced about the old days, recalling friends Tobias hadn’t talked to in years, and she had him howling with stories about her capers in Chicago. He brought her up to date on his life as well, including his relationship with Casey. Monica was shocked but seemed to take the news in stride.

Everything was going well, and they stepped out into the crisp Boston night when they ran out of things to say. They shared a few last words as they waited for their cars to arrive. That’s when things took a turn. Monica turned to him, her gaze locking on the crystal blue eyes that once knew her so well. Tobias felt the shift at once.

“What’s up, Monica?” he asked, not waiting to address it.

Her smile turned tantalizing as she reached out, fingers tracing down the cool wool of his jacket. “It’s been such a lovely night,” she murmured. “But I don't want it to end. Why don't we go back to your place, maybe recreate some good times, you know... for memory’s sake.”

Tobias took her hand and gently eased it away. “Monica,” he started. “I’m flattered, but I told you. I’m with Casey now.”

His voice was sincere, but Monica wasn’t moved. “Tobias, please,” she smirked. “I think it’s great that you and Casey have... a thing... and I’m not asking you to propose, but let's be real... we both know you are not a one woman man, so...” her well-manicured fingers ran down his lapel, eyes shining. "This can stay between us, Tobias... no one else has to know.”

“I’d know,” he responded, removing her hands more forcefully this time. “Look, Monica, the man you once knew and the man I am today are two very different people. I love Casey; she's the only one I want. I’m committed to her and would never betray her.”

Monica’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Tobias?”

“Not even a little,” he replied resolutely.

“Well, that’s a shame,” Monica sighed. “It’s a good bet that won’t last for long. I’d tell you to look me up once you’re bored, but I might not be available then, Carrick.”

Tobias exhaled, his patience wearing thin. “You know, it was a lovely evening, Monica. Was,” he seethed, holding his gaze a moment longer. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

He shook his head as he entered his car, wanting nothing more than to be with Casey, but she was working an overnight shift. He called, but it went straight to voicemail. “Hey, baby,” he began. “Just wanted to tell you that I love you, and I miss you. I’m wiped out, so I’ll probably pass out when I get home. If you call and don’t reach me, that’s why. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

~~~~~

It was almost noon when Tobias began to stir. He smiled as he stretched in the bright sun shining through his bedroom windows. Sleeping late was a luxury rarely afforded to him, so he was refreshed and ready to welcome the day. He decided to check his messages before stepping into the shower, and that’s where things began to fall apart.

He was disappointed to see there were no messages from Casey. However, there was one from Monica:

“Hey T, I thought I’d let you know that I filled Casey in on all the details. You really should have mentioned them to her before spending the night with me. Not that I minded, of course. It really was great seeing you again, T."

Tobias could feel his temples beginning to throb. Spent the night with her? Was she delusional? Sure, they had drinks together, but that lasted about an hour, and he went home alone. But if Monica had led Casey to believe something more happened, then she was going to have to answer to him.

Casey didn't answer his call, so he sent a quick text saying they needed to talk. But that wasn't good enough. He grabbed his jacket from the closet and rushed over to Casey’s. She was sitting on her front steps when he arrived, wrapped in a fluffy fleece blanket. She was composed despite her tense jaw and a flash of anger in her eyes. Tobias didn't know what to expect.

“Casey—” he started, his voice almost desperate.

“So, it appears you're aware that Monica contacted me,” she said with just a hint of sarcasm.

“Baby, I don’t know what she told you,” he pleaded. “But I swear to God, nothing happened between me and Monica. We had drinks at Yvonne’s, just like I told you. We caught up a bit, and then I went home... alone. You have to believe me.”

His heart raced when Casey didn’t immediately respond. “Look, we can go to my place right now. I’ll show you the footage from the security cameras. I went home right after I left you a voicemail...and there was no one with me.”

“Tobias,” Casey sighed, motioning for him to sit next to her. He wrapped his arms around her, and she covered them both with her blanket.

“Do you believe me?” he whispered.

“Of course I do. But this whole thing is still upsetting. Why... why would Monica do this?”

“I don’t know,” he said, running a hand down his face. “Last night was going fine... we were just catching up. Then, we were waiting for our rides to arrive, and she asked to come home with me. I shot it down right away. I was honest with her. I told her about you; there was no way I was going to...”

“Shh, shh, shh,” Casey said, raising a finger to his lips. “It’s OK, babe. So, you spurned her, and she was pissed, so she decided to create some drama for you.”

“Yeah, well, she’s going to get a piece of my mind! She can be pissed all she wants, but the minute she tried to hurt you... all bets are off!”

“You know what, Tobias, the best thing we can do is ignore her and just... be happy. She wants to upset us. I say we don’t give her the satisfaction.”

Tobias's thumb caressed Casey's cheek as he gazed deeply into her eyes. “You’re incredible, do you know that?”

“Of course I do,” she smirked. “It takes a pretty incredible woman to put up with your bevy of exes.”

“A bevy may be a bit of an exaggeration,” he smiled.  

“OK, a horde, then?”

Tobias chuckled as he took her under his arm. “I’m so glad you didn’t believe her.”

“I know who you are, Tobias, and... I trust you.”

"Good, because I promise you, Casey. You have nothing to worry about with me."

Tobias’s shoulders relaxed as the tension began leaving his body. He promised Casey once more that nothing and no one could ever come between them. She found amusement in the situation, teasing him that her exes were far less problematic than his. With that, they headed inside and warmed up with a pot of hot chocolate. Tobias was quite confident he'd enjoy this night much more than the one before.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[tskumoyuuma]

starting to see little by little why my pred broke contract because of this one woman

[munariplans]

forty, love | natasha romanoff

part 2 | part 3

synopsis: winning was everything, and losing was a sin. unfortunately, you were on a losing streak, and natasha loved winning.

natasha romanoff x tennis player! reader

word count: 4.9k words

a/n: inspired by that one scene from challengers.

masterlist

“slice forehand.”

thwock. 

“inside-out forehand.”

another thwock.

“move to the volley. hurry. your feet aren’t keeping up.”

despite the insult, the thwock lands. the ball bounces and hits right where you want it to hit. the singular drop of sweat that dripped onto the ground between your feet is not wasted, as you look up to your performance coach across the net, unamused sneer hidden behind his thick moustache. 

“not fast enough?” you quipped. 

he sighed, shaking his head. “don’t get ahead of yourself. you’re still number 2 in the state. if you want a shot at beating the princeton team, you’re still going to have to move much faster than that.”

you wiped the beads of sweat on your forehead, fixing the slightly loose hair tie, before nodding understandingly. still, you weren’t too happy at his latest onslaught of insults this past session. “you could have at least given me credit for the dropshot earlier when you came in. it was perfect.”

“perfect shots don’t get you the win. defeating your opponent does.”

he signalled that practice was over for the day, and you walked off court at the same time as he did to gather your things. the woman watching from the stands stood at that moment, and began her descent down to meet you in the locker room. 

natasha romanoff walked up behind you as you changed, the sudden feeling of her hands on your bare skin a welcomed intrusion, as you sighed into her touch. she let herself have her hands full for a minute, roaming over your muscles until she was satisfied, before settling them on the edge of your shoulders, massaging the tight knots out of them. you were still so tense.

she pressed her lips lovingly on a scar, waiting for you to finish panting at the feeling of where her hands had been. “you were great out there today.”

“coach said otherwise.”

“mm,” she let you put on your shirt, turning you around to kiss you after, “you were fighting him back just as hard. are you okay?”

you zipped up your bag then, taking a moment to avoid her question, before, “do you think i’m like what he says? what they all say…?”

natasha motioned for you to continue. “that i’m all bark, no bite, now? that i’ve lost my mojo?”

“baby–”

“–because you can tell me straight up. i can take it. you’re my girlfriend, you can tell me, i can take it.” the room had suddenly gotten tense, a stark drop to your composure that you had managed to hide so well on the court. in the locker rooms, you were angry again. you had been angry for a while now. 

“losing a few matches isn’t going to hurt your record, baby. you’re this college’s star player, you know this.”

“but losing four matches in a row is going to shatter my ego. my confidence. you of all people should know this!”

you had backed away from natasha, eyebrows raised, posture standoffish. she hated this. she hated seeing you like this. as bad as it was to say, she hated seeing you lose. it was the worst part of yourself that you let her see, when you lost. but what was she, as a partner, if not to stand by you through your career, your ups and down? she should be sharing your pain, taking some burden off of your shoulders, at the very least. 

“just last week, i let it go to break point, and i still fucking lost!” you had raised your fist at this point, nearly punching it at the steel frames of the lockers, when you reminded yourself of just the complications that could arise from shattered knuckles. your coach would never let this go. but still, the gesture was there, and the fire in your eyes remained all too dangerous. 

suddenly, you were pressed against the lockers, the weight of natasha’s body engulfing yours, as her arms came to hold you tight against herself. you were forced to embrace her back, despite your slight protests and pleas, but she was having none of it. she had wrapped you up in her tight, strong embrace, and her hands were finding themselves to bring your face towards hers, eyes boring into your own. 

“nat–”

“–last week, last week, you were against a professional, baby. a nearly retired one at that, but she was fighting for wins at the australian open not too long ago. she’s been doing this longer than you have even started learning how to hit the ball. don’t be so hard on yourself, will you? nobody, nobody else, could have gotten to where you were with her. break point is a feat in itself.”

you didn’t look convinced. but she didn’t need you to look convinced; she needed you to listen. “do you understand? you need to look at things from a different perspective, from my perspective. not your coach’s, not your teammates, certainly not that player’s fucking groupies, who were gloating about your loss all the way out of the stadium. you need to believe in yourself, as i have always believed in you. and you can’t keep going on like this. do you understand me?”

natasha’s eyes never departed from yours, her gaze firm. her hands were shaking, a little unsure of your reaction, because as far as she knew, you didn’t look like you were going to back down from a fight. either with yourself or her, she didn’t know. she certainly hoped it was at least the latter.

but then, your gaze cast downwards, you nodded ashamedly. sighing into the air, you pressed your face into the crook of her neck for a moment, the height advantage letting you lift her up, and she cooed as she let you gather yourself. 

“i understand.”

she patted the back of your head. like a mother would a petulant, but repenting child. “good. now let’s go get dinner, then a massage for your shoulders. then back to the gym first thing tomorrow morning.”

– 

natasha watched you push around your vegetables for nearly half of dinner. she knew the campus meal tickets didn’t exactly provide for five-star dishes, but she had never seen you so down like this before. it was almost as if you had become a ghost of yourself. 

“steve’s birthday is coming up soon.” she decided to change the topic, and hopefully, get your mind off of tennis for a minute. 

you gave a nonchalant grunt, finally stabbing the piece of broccoli. she steadied herself. “should we get him the pair of boots he’s always wanted? i figured we could pull in wanda and clint too, if we want to get him a bigger gift.”

your eyes were still unfocused. it was as if she wasn’t there at all. “baby.”

you looked up, half-expecting natasha to be pissed. but she only gave you a small smile. “steve’s birthday?”

“we can get him the boots. i don’t mind paying for them. but i don’t think i’m going to his party.”

“why not? your match on that day ends in the afternoon.”

“yeah, but i think i’m going to be pretty tired.” not to mention if i lose.

natasha decided not to argue with you on it. she knew enough how touchy the subject of your career already was. instead, she jabbed the last piece of corn with her fork, and gestured for your mouth to open. 

the both of you left shortly after. 

– 

in a friendly match the next weekend with the neighbouring college, you were faced up against the top ranking player once more. being a finals round, you had imagined that the crowd would be roaring with applause for how far you’d come, but when the sets began to balance after your first few strong starts and the heat of the afternoon sun began beating on everyone’s backs, the crowd dwindled out one by one from boredom and, to you at least, the possible disappointment of you losing. 

it was only expected, from a disenchanted champion. the college’s once pride and joy, the one who was once regarded as a candidate with potential to win grand slams. unfortunately, people only really like you when you win. 

but natasha stayed. and so did her friends, and your friends that she had managed to force to stay. you had gestured that they could leave if they wanted to, during the breaks, but they were afraid to even nod, or make a move, lest they wanted to be subjected to natasha’s ferocity, sitting behind them. it was almost humiliating that they stayed only because your girlfriend was forcing them to, you thought. 

thwock. a missed shot from your end.

another thwock. “out!”

by your last mistake, the crowd had only left natasha, steve, and some die-hard groupies of yours that were slowly losing hope too. so when the final set was determined by your failure to execute a passing shot, and subsequently touching the net, the roars from the other side seemed almost mocking. you had lost. 

natasha rushed down to the locker rooms again, only this time, your friends followed, and the absolute mortification that you felt, along with the pure anger and frustration of losing, overpowered any remaining sense of decency you had left. 

the moment you spotted her coming in, then the company behind her, you almost felt like the first time the instinct to shatter your racket came to you. 

“out! all of you, out!” you had screamed, not caring to be decent even to your teammates. 

“come on, we just wanted–”

“–i don’t care, out! you’ve just come in here to humiliate me, haven’t you? gloating how i could lose, even in a friendly! how shit of a player i am, now!”

the people behind natasha grumbled, but one by one shuffled out. it was better to tell you about how unfair you were being another day, not when emotions were running so high. natasha was thankful they understood. but it didn’t make what you did any less unfair.

she sat beside you as you kept your head down. “that wasn’t very nice.”

“losing isn’t very nice.”

“they meant well, baby.”

“no, they don’t.”

“how many times do i have–”

“–a ton, okay, natasha?” you looked up, slamming your drink between the both of you. “a ton of times, you have to remind me. that my friends love me, that they’re here to support me. but how the fuck am i supposed to believe that when i don’t even have anything for them to support me for?”

“your friends don’t just love you because you’re good at tennis, my love. i don’t love you just because you’re good at tennis. this is ridiculous! i can’t believe we are arguing over this, i can’t believe you think of yourself so lowly like this.”

natasha was met with a deafening silence the moment she finished her last words, her chest heaving up and down from her own disappointment. the rest of the players had filtered out, upon hearing your argument, leaving only you and her there. like always. 

your hand rubbed over your face resignedly, hands covering the beautiful eyes natasha loved loves staring into. she wanted to reach out, to pull your hands away from yourself, to even get you to answer her, to let her know that you at least believed you were better than this. but she was afraid of the answer she was going to get. 

then, she heard a sniffle, and a small, choked sob afterwards. and that was it. 

you were up standing the next second, and slinging your racket bag over your shoulder. “i’m going to the gym. i know you have class after this. don’t wait up.”

she was left there alone, the dismay and disappointment of it all weighing down on her, the moment the doors to the locker room were slammed. 

– 

i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have lashed out on you like that, i apologised to my friends, now i want to apologise to you. i love you, i’m sorry. the words didn’t seem enough. the guilt that accumulated and eventually avalanched into your heart was almost insurmountable, after the incident with  natasha. you weren’t even sure you were worthy of being forgiven, you thought as you sat in your car later that night, still angry at her, but making sure that she was safe in the short walk home from her class to her dorm. 

which was why you found yourself in the florist off campus a few days later, asking the employee what flowers best represented i’m sorry for being such a terrible girlfriend, and which flowers were most likely going to help you be forgiven. the white and blue carnations reminded you of the colours in natasha’s room. 

“how much is it?” you asked, to which the cashier then showed you the till. you cursed internally, not even knowing flowers were so expensive nowadays.

checking the contents of your wallet for a minute, you cursed even louder at yourself at the emptiness that greeted you. losing matches meant losing money, that was for sure, and it wasn’t a secret that you were mostly funding your life with prize money won from big matches in the state, with college at least funded with the athlete’s scholarship. yet another reason why i can’t keep doing this, you thought.

it was between dinner for the next few days and gas for your car, and the flowers. fuck it, skipping dinners once in a while wouldn’t hurt, and you could walk from place to place. 

you handed over your card, and began the walk to natasha’s dorm. 

when she received you, natasha noticed you looked almost like a kicked puppy, none of the anger or smugness you carried with you on and off the court. no, with her, you were soft, and vulnerable, and all-too pitiful for her love. she knows the power she has over you. she never had to worry. 

so she brought you in, allowed you to apologise, to beg at her feet, and for her mercy and forgiveness. she allowed you to worship her, taking her to her bed and whispering how much you messed up to her skin, how much you loved her when you were making her see stars, how much you thought you would hurt yourself if she ever left you when she was chanting your name over and over again, begging you to let her come undone.

– 

steve’s birthday rolled around, and natasha was once again seated in the front row for you. she never missed your matches. 

you thought she should have missed this one, when the match reached a break point and you lost again. when you had gotten so frustrated, so furious, over a careless choke that you had, that you received a punishment for smashing your racket into bits as the opponent screamed in celebration. 

she came down to sit with you in the locker room after, but it was in silence. there was nothing to say, and nothing to be said. there were tears streaming down your face, dripping onto the floor. your vision was obscured by the tears, and you would have lost yourself if not for the hand that was holding your own, firm, steadfast. somewhere along the line, she was kissing you, then slowly pushing for you to get up, and bringing you to her dorm. you didn’t really remember anything more after that, busy curling into a ball and crying yourself to sleep afterwards.

when she woke you again to accompany her to steve’s party, you felt almost bad that the ringing in your ears hadn’t gone away, and so had your misery from the match earlier. but natasha needed a ride, and you weren’t going to let her drive back later if she had been drinking for the night. 

– 

you encouraged natasha to mingle around at the party, and to not worry about you, as you stuck around your few friends for a bit. she was unsure, but you were firm, and soon enough, she too had disappeared into the crowd.

your eyes never left her after you found her again, though, leaning back into a pillar as your friend sam went on and on about his own matches so far. you didn’t have the heart, or energy, to tell him that tennis was the last thing you wanted to talk about right then. 

she was by the birthday boy, his arm slung around her waist as the both of them guzzled down cups and cups of spiked punch. their circle was closely-knit, you had always known this, but somehow, the lingering touches, and his hand slowly travelling up and down her back, was ticking you off this time. you had almost half a mind to ask steve what he thought he was doing, but you knew natasha would get embarrassed, and upset. you knew you already made her upset enough today. 

but then, sam quipped, “they’ve been awfully close lately, haven’t they?”

he must have forgotten he was talking to natasha’s girlfriend, of all people, as he continued, “steve’s on a winning streak recently. on track to become valedictorian, potentially getting drafted by the top teams next season, it’s only a matter of time before he wants someone by his side to share it with too, huh?”

“...right.”

“you know how natasha likes winners,” he hit your elbow playfully, breath reeking of alcohol and other illegal substances, “she just loves the game. i bet that’s how you got her to fall for you too.”

“not my good looks, or horrible attitude to anything outside of tennis?” you tore your eyes away from natasha for a moment to glare at sam. he chuckled. 

“i’m just saying, better to keep your girl by your side, future federer.” he disappeared shortly after, and when you found natasha again, she was laughing and putting her head on steve’s shoulder. 

instead of feeling angry this time, you were dejected, and a little bit ashamed. of course. natasha liked winners. and you certainly weren’t one anymore. 

you bit back a harsh breath, and went outside to get some fresh air when steve stole a glance at her that was far too intimate to be one of merely friends. you should have known. if she wasn’t winning with you, she was winning with someone else, somewhere else. 

that night, for the first time in your career, and relationship, you thought about retiring.

– 

but when the competition season rolled around, and the WTAs approaching, you had managed to pull yourself up in the rankings enough to secure a spot at a challengers’ round to hopefully beat princeton and start a domino effect that could lead you to participating in a grand slam. 

natasha was walking beside you, struggling to keep up as she checked your schedule haphazardly. “the princeton girl, she’s on the other side of the roster. i doubt the two of you would be playing each other unless she reaches the finals too. which…at this point…”

you didn’t want to know if she meant that you wouldn’t stand a chance of reaching the finals, or that the princeton champion would be knocked out early. you were afraid you knew the answer. 

steve had dropped her off at the stadium when you went outside to pick her up, his smug smile as he waved her goodbye, and his eyes following yours, making you want to reach over inside the car and beating him with your racket. you had to arrive earlier to discuss strategy with your coaches, and while you were more than willing to pay for natasha’s ride in, she had mentioned that steve would be dropping her off. she sounded almost excited, so you dropped the topic and went back to your practice. like you have been doing for the past few months. 

turns out it wasn’t so hard to succeed, and win matches, when you were more or less resigned to your fate that nobody was ever going to expect anything more of you from your streak of losses all those matches ago, and you had effectively lost the love of your life to some football player who kept winning, and winning. 

you were at a challenger’s round this time, so you didn't need to worry. you won, and won, and won a little bit more. 

–

thwock. right over the net. the opponent misses and falls to her knees.

a serve that would have made williams roar in awe. thwock.

last one. the set was done if you landed this one. thwock. 

the ball landed inside the court, right by the opponent’s feet. and you advanced to the finals. 

you remembered natasha rushing down, not even waiting until you entered the locker room. she was running, running, and jumping into your arms, kissing you like her life depended on it. you spun her around, giving her a smug smile, trying to hide a bleeding heart that knew she too, was surprised that you ever stood a chance of winning. 

the crowd roared behind you. people were liking you again. but you had never felt worse. 

–

it turned out that the princeton champion had advanced to the finals, and would be playing against you, after all. there was no surprise for her, but certainly a surprise for you, as the newscasters and fans had aptly put, a grand shocker. they had all thought you had seen your glory days over. 

natasha caught you watching the latest telecast from the hotel’s television, gaze zeroed in on the anchor who was comparing your statistics over the last few games. almost perfect scores. leaving opponents with loves in sets. behind her, were the students of your college, decked out in the colour of the university and your face and initials printed on their shirts, caps, flags. all of it. they had never looked more proud. the college had even rolled out a banner in your name, in lieu of the upcoming finals. you knew natasha enjoyed all of it more than you did. 

when it came to the broadcast from princeton, the college’s president had come to give a special interview. he mentioned that he never doubted his champion from the start, unlike what your college had to go through with you. you found yourself wanting to spit at the television. 

but from behind, the sound of running water from the shower had stopped, and she had come out, in a robe and her wet hair in a towel. she saw the glazed look in your eyes, and promptly picked up the remote to shut the programme off. 

she settled into the spot beside you, nuzzling into your comfort. she had to pull your own arms off of the couch to wrap around her. you thought she must have known. she couldn’t be so stupid. she knew that you knew about her, and what she had always liked. 

but then you remembered, beyond the resentment, and grief, of the past few months, of just what she had been through with you. when you lost your very first match in college, natasha had been your friend, still. she was dating the captain of the basketball team, you remembered, but she had gone with you afterwards to walk the long way home, encouraging you and telling you that it would get better. it always would. you only half-believed her.

but then, you won. and won, and won, and won. by the tenth streak of winning, natasha had broken up with said boyfriend, and began hanging around your dorm, the tennis courts, even the cafeterias more often. she went where you went, showed up to most of your games, was the loudest one in the crowd when you secured sets. she would wait for you after your mini celebratory sessions with your teammates, and fans, and friends, all for a moment alone with you. then, she would bring you out for drinks, for dinners, sometimes the occasional walk down memory lane to her dorm. she was kind, she made you laugh, and you were on a streak. so what was there stopping you? 

you fell for her just as easily as you fell in love with winning.

to your surprise, she stuck around when you lost a few matches along the way, never letting it phase her, or you. to everyone else’s surprise, she stuck around when you twisted your ankle in your second year of playing. she had left a pattern in her wake, you see, of leaving all of her past lovers when the going got tough, or when they had simply stopped winning. it was inevitable, you thought. but no, not this time. when you fell to your knees during that tournament, screaming in agony as your ankle felt like it was folding in on itself, she was there. she was right beside the medical officer, holding you up as he inspected the injury, face looking even more panicked than yours as they wheeled you off to the hospital. 

she was there, as they wheeled you in for surgery, and wheeled you out to recover. she never left, even when the doctors told you it would take months to recover, let alone get back to playing on your level. she helped you recover, was the driving force in your physical therapy success, even became the sole reason that you returned to playing so quickly after your injury. you hadn’t wanted to disappoint her, much less lose her at all. you were too afraid of the possibility of her becoming someone else’s because of your failure in your sport.

natasha stayed through your losing streak. she never got mad, or lost her patience, with you. it had been three years now, with her. she had never lasted in a relationship so long, so had you. she had talked about getting married before, right after college, to which you had entertained, but still never gotten the full grasp of. how could she talk about marrying you, with such a reputation that preceded her? what if you had lost, would she have run off before the altar?

what if you lost tomorrow? you looked at her again, this time, and she was on her phone. she was texting your friends to make sure they came for your match tomorrow. you felt horrible.

“nat.”

she looked up. “yes?”

“tell me it doesn’t matter.” 

natasha sat up this time, her hand holding yours. she looked confused. “what doesn’t matter?” “whether i win or lose tomorrow.”

her face remained unchanged for a moment, but at the quiver of your lip, and the coldness in your hands, she broke her composure. she shook her head slowly, gaze steely. “no.”

“why not?” it was your turn to harden the look on your face. “why won’t you tell me at least that?”

“because,” she bit the inside of her cheek, “you’re the professional. you’ll tell me whether it matters or not.”

you sat up as well. “i just want to know that you’ll love me…no matter what…whether i win or lose tomorrow.”

natasha’s eyes suddenly couldn’t meet yours. she looked down, at your shirt, then away, but never back at you. you pleaded, “natasha, please.”

“no,” she remained firm, “no. i won’t tell you that, because i know you’ll beat her. you’ll win tomorrow. and you’ll go to the grand slams, you’ll be the best tennis player that’s ever played in them, and you’re going to win. every. single. one. of. them.”

“and what if i don’t? not even the grand slams, not even tomorrow? what if i come in second again, after all this time?” 

you were growing desperate, and she was growing distant. you suddenly thought that you would have done anything, absolutely anything then, for her to tell you what you wanted to hear. to tell you that she would love you no matter if you won or lost.

natasha watched as you dropped to your knees in front of her, eyes already teary. your hands scrambled to hold her shirt, her waist, any part of her. she held them back, but to stop you from reaching further. then, she held your face again, but this time, it was you that was begging for her. you looked downright pitiful.

she wiped the stray tear off your cheek. she knew what she was going to say would either make or destroy you. “i’ll tell you this instead.”

“please.”

“baby, if you lose the match tomorrow, i’m leaving you. for good.”

– 

thwock. thwock. thwock. 

princeton parried, the ball is sent to the line. you return it with ease. princeton flicks back, you work twice as hard to send it over.

your moves were clean, cleaner than ever before, aided by a brain filled with rage and a heart filled with fear. 

princeton served, out. you served, in. the advantage stood, and the crowd stood to cheer. princeton hit back, you hit harder. it was a game both colleges hadn’t seen in decades. there were talks of both of you dominating the grand slams, even possibly working together, even being the next best duo to ever hit the sport. 

break point. the ball whizzes. and finally…after all the pain, the fear, the lost matches and the weight of the world on your shoulders, it was over. 

you weren’t quick enough. princeton won. 

a/n: i just love pathetic, pitiful characters who are down so bad for natasha romanoff, is that so wrong?

[perplexedflower]

Connection

Fandom: Gravity Falls.

Category: F/M.

Relationship: Stanford Pines x Female Reader.

Type: One shot.

Words: 3,830.

Summary: Stanford Pines is anything but used to romance, but when the young woman he has fallen for confesses her feelings to him, it feels to him as though they were destined to be together…

Chronology: Late Season 2.

~~~~~~~~~~

I felt a little dizzy as my body began to tremble, but after one slow, deep breath, I regained my composure and walked out of the attic. After having spent so long, so much time, so many days debating with myself, I had finally made up my mind: that day was the day I would dare approach Stanford and confess to him everything that weighed on my mind. At last.

I made my way down the staircase and up to the vending machine, alone in the room; that afternoon was bright and sunny, thankfully for me, as all the others were spending their time outside the shack. The last thing I wanted was for one of them to walk in on me confessing my love to Stanford, and the sheer thought of such a thing happening was enough to bring knots to my stomach.

Still standing in front of the vending machine, I input the code to the basement on the pad, a code only the Stan twins knew better than I did, a code I typed in every day, a code that had become so important to me.

Come on, [Y/N]... You can do it. I motivated myself through thought as I watched the secret door open. You've prepared yourself for this day, for this exact moment... You can do it.

With the vending machine now retracted, I took a deep breath once more, sensing my nervousness rise as my stomach truly began to ache, my heart beating faster in my chest than it had ever before. For the second time, I found myself faced with a flight of stairs: I walked down each step, one by one, until I arrived at the elevator. With a slightly trembling index finger, I pressed the button that led to the last floor, which was home to the now-broken portal. While I waited inside the elevator, I continuously repeated to myself the speech I had prepared, the speech I intended to give to Stanford. And the second the elevator stopped moving and the doors slowly opened, I knew my time had come.

Seated on his chair, Stanford was pacing back and forth between all corners of the room, whether it was his desk, shelves, or even the ground, promptly standing up to grab some of his tools off the floor before he sat right back down. For but a moment, it was clear he had not yet noticed I was present in the room with him, until I took a few steps forward in his direction: then, he instantly recognized the sound of my footsteps and finally turned around to me.

From the other end of the room, he showed me a warm smile that made my heart flutter.

"Good afternoon, [Y/N]." He said cheerfully while he brushed the dust off his clothes with his hands. "How are you feeling today? Good, I hope."

"Good afternoon, Ford." I said back to him as I tried to sound as nonchalant as I could. "I'm fine, yes, thank you for asking. And what about you?"

"I'm doing great." He answered, still smiling. "In fact, I'm doing very well."

"Really, how so?"

"Well, I can't quite yet tell you much about it, but my current research is coming along nicely, to say it all." He told me with delight.

"Oh, that's fantastic news!" I exclaimed enthusiastically.

I stared at Stanford in the eyes, pretending to be jolly, when my heart rate was in fact racing.

"Oh, but enough about all that." He said as he took a step toward me while gesturing his hands. "Tell me, [Y/N], why are you not outside? I would have expected to see you out there, enjoying such a sunny day."

"You're one to talk, you know?" I teased him with a light chuckle. "But, as for me... Well..."

The old ceiling lamp above our heads emanated a low light that mixed in orange and red, which faintly reflected against the lenses of Stanford's glasses, making them sparkle just slightly.

"You see, Ford..." I started, the volume of my voice diminishing with each word. "God, it's just so hard to say it..."

As my hands began to tremble and awkwardly twist their fingers, he took yet another step in my direction, which brought him right in front of me.

"[Y/N], are you sure everything's all right?" He asked me with concern while he rested a delicate hand on one of my shoulders. "Is something the matter?"

To avoid his gaze, I lowered my head and stared at the ground, at my feet, just in front of his.

"Ford... There's something I have to tell you." I finally managed to say. "It's... really important... to me. That's why I'm here and not outside with the others."

While I spoke, I simply could not resist the urge to look down at Stanford's hand, holding my shoulder in place with a firm grip, yet without too much pressure; and the longer I stared at it, the longer I felt his touch on me, the more I could sense my heart pounding in my chest. I could tell my cheeks were progressively turning pink as I allowed my eyes to wander, leaving his hand to trace up his arm, detailing the outline of his muscles through the sleeve of his coat.

It's undeniable that the 30 years Ford spent stuck in-between dimensions have toughened him up... by a lot. I thought to myself. He's told me before that back when he and Stanley were little, he would get pushed around by other kids, even bullied. Then, growing up into adulthood, as a scientist and researcher, he never quite had a muscular physique, unlike his twin brother. But now, I look at him... and I can't help but feel a sense of pride seeing the man he has become.

I quickly pulled myself out of my thoughts and diverted my eyes from his arm, then cleared my throat before I looked back up at his face.

"I have to tell you that... I'm really glad that Stanley made the right choice to save you and bring you back here... and that Mabel decided not to press that button." I told him with genuine affection. "Stanford, I like you, and—"

"Oh, how sweet of you, [Y/N]." He exclaimed with a smile as he interrupted me. "I know it may not always seem like it, but I'm actually truly happy to be back, to be here, beside you all, even Stanley... And that includes you, of course. I like you too, [Y/N]."

With a grin still displayed on his face, he leaned forward and moved his hand from my shoulder to my head: his palm tousled my hair, after which he started to walk back to his desk, assuming our conversation was over and that he could go back to his work.

"T-Thank you, Ford, but you don't get it—" I said with a sad smile while I shook my head slowly, my eyebrows furrowed. "I like you, Stanford... I love you."

It felt as though my words echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the walls, surrounding us wholly, resonating within our heads. He immediately stopped walking, his foot frozen in mid-air, and remained still, his back turned to me; although I could not see his face, I could feel mine growing hot with blush, an expression of conflicted emotions on my face.

"... Hum— You know what? Forget I said anything." I mumbled as I stared at his back. "I... don't know what came over me, but just— Ignore it... please..."

The more I tried to express myself properly, the longer I spent choosing my words, the more teardrops escaped my eyes, rolling down across my cheeks and ending their course on the ground.

"This... must sound like complete nonsense to you... I'm sure you're thinking I've lost my mind."

While I still stared at his back, still turned to me, Stanford still motionless, I took a blind step backward, then another.

"... I'm very sorry to have disturbed you, Stanford... You may resume your work, now."

The second I finished speaking, I promptly turned around and nervously pressed the button on the elevator: and as I stepped inside, I anxiously waited to hear him say something, anything, but he remained quiet. I pressed a second button, this time to order the elevator to go back up to the surface. After a second of silence that felt excruciatingly long, the two doors closed, and the moment the elevator started to move, I broke into tears.

I was still sobbing when, shortly after, I walked out of the elevator, climbing the secret stairs back up to arrive back into the room. I was too emotionally compromised to truly scan my surroundings, but I was still able to tell all the others were still busy, as the room was still empty.

I need... to be alone... I told myself. I need to find a place... somewhere, anywhere...

I knew the attic was out of the question, considering Dipper and Mabel could have very well been there, and so was the kitchen, given how much time Stanley spent in it; the only place that was left, the only place I could think of was the secret room Soos had discovered the other day, by pure accident. Once standing in front of the door, I gave it a soft push with my hand, too feeble to put any amount of strength into my movements. But as physically weak as I felt, I stepped inside the room without even an ounce of hesitation.

Once I was in, I closed the door behind me then took a look around the dim room, plunged into darkness, and, soon enough, my eyes spotted a couch: without a second thought, I made my way to it and sat down, bringing both of my legs onto the sofa. The temperature in the room was quite cold, which forced me to bury my face into the sweater I was wearing, a sweater Mabel had knitted for me. And as I sat in the dark, I let my tears flow, pouring out of my eyes like a river.

For a while, although I had no notion of how long it had been, I did not move from my spot, nor did I stop weeping, surrounded by my overwhelming thoughts in the midst of obscurity. That was, until I heard the door of the room open behind me, in such a slow and gentle manner it was almost inaudible.

Without sticking my head out of my sweater, I shook my head at the sound.

"I don't know who you are, but frankly, I don't care." I let out in-between two tears, my voice muffled. "Please... go away... I just need some time on my own..."

Despite my pitiful request, the person decided to walk in anyway, and I felt my heart twist into knots when I recognized the sound of their footsteps on the creaking floor, the sound of old, muddy boots. They continued, growing closer and closer to me, until they stopped, right beside me, and after but only a second, I felt his body sit down on the couch, just next to mine.

"[Y/N]... Please, listen." Stanford started in a tone so gentle it was almost a whisper. "You may think you've lost your mind, but you're far from it, trust me."

His voice and his words reached my ears and instantly enveloped me in a sensation of safety, of warmth, of comfort, and a part of me was already soothed, just listening to them, no matter how much I craved to be alone at that moment.

Though hesitantly, I slowly raised my head from my sweater, revealing the upper part of my face, though the rest was still concealed: and in an instant, my eyes were met with his, his gaze soft and affectionate.

"Because of... what you've told me, you see yourself as a freak... as some kind of monster. And you know this is something I can relate to, [Y/N]. I've had similar thoughts in the past, when I was a child, after other people would make fun of me for my weirdness, especially my polydactyly. But no matter how many times I got pushed around, I always— Well, almost always had my brother by my side, to remind me I should not be ashamed of who I am... Just like you have us."

Ever so gently, Stanford extended one of his hands to me, reaching down into my sweater to grab my chin between his thumb and index finger. And that one single gesture tore my heart in half.

I already know how all of this is going to end... Ford is going to comfort me, to try and make me feel better, but he's not going to bring up again my love declaration, he's going to ignore my feelings for him... He'd rather avoid mentioning it, finding it easier to pretend as if it never happened... and this tension between us would remain.

With my face still held by his hand, he stared deeply into my eyes, though it appeared his confidence was progressively fading away.

"[Y/N], I... I don't... quite know how to say this..."

His face turned pink as he broke eye contact with me, his eyes restless.

"I've never really... done this type of thing... ever, you see, so..."

But eventually, after looking for the right words for some time, he looked back into my eyes, this time with strong determination.

"I love you too, [Y/N]." He blurted out bashfully.

Upon hearing his words, my eyes opened wide and my heart stopped beating. I was already convinced my imagination had played a trick on me, unable to believe what Stanford had just said to be the truth.

"... This... is not something I thought I would say today, but I assure you that I mean it, no matter how unbelievable it may sound to you." He further confessed, his words heavy. "I've had feelings for you ever since the day I first made your acquaintance. I saw you for the first time and... found you... beautiful. I talked to you for the first time and thought your personality was wonderful. Then I saw how well you got along with my family, with Stanley and the kids, and... I felt something I had never really felt before."

He marked a pause, his voice slightly shaky and his face shifting from pink to red.

"... A-And, at first, I couldn't believe it was love, I put the blame on... on the fact that you simply had been the first woman my eyes landed on after 30 years outside of this dimension, but—... But soon enough, I had to be rational and face the truth... I understood I truly had fallen for you."

Although I kept quiet, I could very distinctively tell what was going through Stanford's mind, especially given the facial expressions he was switching between as he spoke.

"But I... I didn't say anything." He continued, lowering his eyes to avoid mine. "I didn't know how to properly apprehend these feelings, how to confess them to you... For a man my age, all of this shouldn't be a problem, but... well, my experience is close to none. I understand your own hesitation regarding your feelings came from our age gap, and, quite frankly, so did mine. I just couldn't find a way to let you know about mine without coming across as a pervert... So I decided to bottle it all up."

After his last sentence, silence reigned for a moment, and I understood his speech had finally come to an end; the two of us were now staring straight at each other, our gazes locked on, neither of us saying a word. Only then did Stanford remember he was still holding my chin, and only then did he realize his speech had gone on for much longer than he himself had intended, judging by the look on his face. His eyes suddenly opened wide, his cheeks still buried under a thick layer of blush as he let go of my face, visibly embarrassed.

"I-I'm sorry, [Y/N]— I said too much, didn't I?" He asked me, seemingly shameful. "I must have spoken for too long— You said you wanted to be left alone, so... I'll be going, now—"

He hurriedly stood up from the sofa as he nervously pushed his glasses on his nose. He promptly made his way to the door of the room, but before I could let him get too far away from me, I extended an arm toward him and reached for the bottom of his coat: as he felt my hand tug at the fabric, he turned back around and looked at me, at the single tear rolling down my cheek.

"Stay." I said in a whisper. "... Please."

Stanford's eyes remained on me, on my face, which was now begging for his presence, and he could feel it; all while staring down at me, he walked back to the couch and sat back down, this time even closer to me, close enough to wrap his arms around my body and bring it down against his as he lay back slightly. His embrace felt warm and secure, yet so overwhelming as well. With my face nestled in the crook of his neck, I closed my eyes and took multiple deep breaths, his natural scent soothing me further with each passing second.

As I listened to the sound of his heart beating faster in his chest, I felt one of his hands rub my back gently, shortly followed by a kiss he left on the crown of my head. Both of us found peace and tranquility within that moment, that moment of serenity and quietness; but the silence did not last for long, as I let out a heavy sigh.

"... I'm sorry, Ford." I said, my voice slightly muffled against his skin.

"What for?" He kindly asked while looking down at me.

"For... all of this. For having waited all this time to let you know how I feel, and for having made you repress your own feelings. Because of me... we've wasted so much time we could have spent... this way."

Stanford chuckled, a genuine laugh that made my heart skip a beat and turned the tips of my ears red.

"You don't need to apologize for such things, [Y/N]." He stated as he brought his hands down on my shoulders.

With slow and gentle care, he pulled me out of his embrace, just slightly, just enough so that he could look down at me, so that our faces could meet, so that he could show me his bright smile.

"You're not responsible for any of this, and if we follow your way of thinking, logic would have it I need to apologize too. But neither of us is at fault, here. So, please, don't burden yourself with guilt."

With a shy smile, I closed my eyes and nodded. When I opened them again, I was still faced with his loving smile, with his affectionate gaze; and, after but a brief moment of uncertainty and indecision, I slowly brought my hand up to his face and gently rested my palm on his cheek, which led to the blush on his cheeks intensifying. As my fingers drifted down along his jaw and then his neck, I tilted my head a little.

I've... never really been this close to Ford before... It might take some getting used to... But I get the feeling that won't be an issue.

Our eyes gazed deeply into one another as my other hand found its way to his torso, my palm slowly rising and falling along his heaving chest, along the rhythm of his heartbeat. One of his hands left my shoulders to hold my waist, while the other held the nape of my neck, his fingers delicately running through my hair. Our faces grew closer to each other, the air around us filled with anticipation and excitement, until we both tilted our heads and closed our eyes: our lips met and our embrace grew tighter, finally sharing together this special moment we had waited so long to see happen.

My hand on his neck moved to the collar of his sweater, which I grabbed passionately while I felt Stanford furrow his eyebrows, his lips sighing against mine, cherishing the moment as he held me against his body. But the moment inevitably came to an end when we both pulled away, slightly out of breath, slightly panting, in an atmosphere that had all of a sudden become heavy. The two of us were still nervous, even now that we had kissed, and I could tell Stanford was feeling particularly awkward: with a soft smile, I tugged at his sweater and leaned forward to leave one more kiss on his lips, catching him off-guard. After I pulled away, I stared into his wide-open eyes with love as I caressed his blushing cheek.

"That was wonderful, Ford." I told him enthusiastically in a reassuring tone.

While still smiling, I readjusted his glasses on his nose a little better, seeing as they had slightly slipped down during our kiss.

"For a man in his 60s who's barely ever kissed a woman before, you're quite a good kisser." I added, teasing him playfully.

My compliment made him chuckle, somewhat awkwardly but mostly with genuine affection.

"Well... Thank you, [Y/N]." He said while blushing. "You're... really good yourself."

My body imitated his and I felt the redness on my face intensify as I giggled lightly. Both of his hands traveled back down around my waist, which he grabbed firmly, though without applying too much pressure.

"Well... The afternoon is far from over, so why don't you and I go back to the basement?" He suggested happily, visibly excited at the idea of keeping this conversation going elsewhere. "I'll show you a glimpse of what I've been working on these past few days."

"I like the sound of that." I replied just as happily.

With the help of my hips, his hands moved my body to the side, freeing his so that he could stand up from the couch: then, as he stared down into my eyes, he opened the palm of his hand to me.

"Then, let's get back to work... Shall we, sweetheart?"

I felt my pulse accelerate greatly upon hearing him call me by such a pet name, but I did my best to keep my composure as I nodded and put my palm in his.

Hand in hand, Stanford and I walked out of the room and headed to the basement, where we spent the rest of the day together, exchanging more than just words, until the sun went down and the moon went up.

[beetlejuicyy]

Eraser | Ryomen Sukuna x reader

1. Ultimatum

Summary: modern!Sukuna has a tattoo of your name on his chest that he wants to get rid of. Can he, though?

Warnings: gaslighting, toxicity, mentions of cheating

Word count: 2,254

Series masterlist:

1. Ultimatum

2. Wash Away

3. Only Memories

4. Vengeance

Read on AO3

Notes: this idea popped in my head very randomly while I was listening to a song and it screamed modern day Sukuna so here it is

General Masterlist | Divider @rookthornesartistry

“I want it gone.” Sukuna said, already irritated.

“Are you sure? Covering it up would be way easier.” If this bastard kept talking, Sukuna would rather cut his own skin and get the job done faster.

“I want it gone from my skin.” He growled and the guy quickly went back to the computer to search for an appointment date.

“Any other guy wouldn’t have treated you as well as I did!” Sukuna spat back as if that was supposed to fix something.

You sat down on the floor of your bedroom, back resting against the bed. You were tired of yelling and screaming. He would never allow himself to articulate the word love, not even in this fight that was about to end your relationship for good.

“Really? What else is there to be done? Fuck another girl in my own bed?” You replied sarcastically and he groaned in frustration.

You just couldn’t understand. He warned you that the wasn’t he goodie two shoes compliant man going to a 9 to 5 and talking about finance or computer science like your previous flings. He was running an underground illegal business and networking was the most important thing if you wanted to end up on top. Sukuna reiterated these things many times, as if they could overcome the indescribable magnetic pull you felt towards him. He shouldn’t have flirted with you so confidently and insistently if he never planned to let you in. But you eagerly nodded, dismissing all his warnings, all of Yuuji's, his little brother’s warnings that predicted exactly this moment. When you would find out he made out with another woman in a random club at 1:30AM while you obediently ate your vanilla ice cream and binge watched netflix.

“For the last time, woman!” He yelled, his hoarse voice coming from his throat filled the quiet room. “I didn’t fuck her!”

He was sitting in the doorframe of your bedroom, looking at your pathetic form on the floor. Head supported in your hands, your tangled long hair falling over your face. He had been banging on your front door for half an hour before you agreed to open it. He had smoked cigarette after cigarette, trying to relieve some of the stress. When you finally opened the front door to let him in, all the snarky remarks he had prepared faded away. Your eyes were swollen because of crying, the hems of your sleeping t-shirt, his t-shirt, wet with tears. He followed you back to your room, but he couldn’t bring himself to walk in, seeing you like this. Yelling and cursing at each other was easy, but resisting the sight of your pain was harder than anything he had ever done.

“Oh, yeah sure.” He couldn’t see your face because it was covered by your palms but he knew you rolled your eyes. “First you make out with her and then wait until she throws herself at you. Funny thing, worked on me.” Your voice was strained from all the yelling. Your energy had been used up almost entirely. Now all that was left was a bitter, quiet tone.

“I knew that little brat was too young to get involved in these things.” He mumbled more to himself. He pulled at the knot of his black tie. It was already lose enough. He was suffocating.

“Yuuji didn’t tell me.” You laughed. You were so tired of all of it. Your head fell back on the bed and you looked at the ceiling, as if the answer to your problems was written there for you to read. You didn’t need to see his handsome face to know one eyebrow was cocked in surprise. Damn his face and his black shirt and his perfectly tailored pants and his tattoos. “A private number sent me a video.” Sukuna’s tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek in frustration. “You could call it networking.”

He sighed. It was on video. All he could do was walk up to you, crouch down on the floor and try to resist the urge to touch you. You looked so beautifully devastated at 3:42 AM, only in your panties and one of his t-shirts, pretty legs sprawled on the floor, neck exposed just waiting for his teeth to sink in. But you already thought he was disgusting. It would only make things worse to admit that this sight of you turned him on.

“They’re trying to get to me, can’t you see?” Sukuna’s voice had never been so calm, so quiet. It was deep and throaty, coming from the utmost effort and consideration he held in his large body. “They know how important you are to me.” You only half smiled, as if he said something supposedly funny.

How come you didn’t know how important you were to him? How come he never told you how he felt about you? How come anytime you would seek reassurance from him you would end up in a sexual circumstance? He would tell you that you’re pretty, beautiful, sexy. He would make you feel like a goddess when he would touch you. And you would fall for it most of the time. But never, not once, express his feelings, his sincere and most vulnerable feelings towards you. You couldn’t do that for the both of you anymore. Sukuna seemed to understand the lack of trust from your silence, from the curled corner of your mouth forming a sad half smile, from your empty eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

“I needed information, y/n.” The sleeves of his shirt were folded up to his elbows, a strong smell of cigarettes deeply impregnated in the fabric. You raised your head from the mattress to look at him, bloodshot piercing eyes staring at you closely. “It’s the easiest way of doing it.”

“Yeah, actually you’re right. I need a Prada bag I’ll just make out with the security guy and he’ll give it to me.”

“I can buy it for you.”

Slap.

Sukuna didn’t expect it. The stinging sensation your palm left across his cheek burned deeper than the surface of his skin. It burned inside his heart. He didn’t look back at you. He kept his face turned away, so you could see how the skin changed into a pinkish color, more vibrant than the pink of his hair. Sukuna took a deep breath, licking his lips, trying to find a way to contain himself.

“I knew you had been a manwhore before. But I really thought, I really wanted you to respect me.” Your words cut sharper than any slap could. Your voice was getting louder and shakier with every word, anger and misery mixed in a pitiful sound. “I was stupid to think you would really care.”

“I do.” He said between his gritted teeth.

“You don’t. You just proved it tonight.”

“I told you multiple times.” He placed both of his hands on either side of your frame at the edge of the bed. The smell of his musky high end perfume mixed with cigarettes and a slight scent of alcohol as he spoke intoxicated you. You couldn’t avoid him. “This is what I do, take it or leave it. You said you’re fine with it.”

“You’re saying it’s my fault?” Suddenly you became very aware of the fact that you were covered in minimal clothing and the way he was looking at you, that mix of anger and frustration, his clenched jaw, his soft lips, they all made you want to stop fighting.

“I’m saying you’re exaggerating.”

“You really want me to slap you again.”

“Only if you can bear the consequences.”

You pushed your knees against his body, trying to break away from the cage of his muscular arms at your sides, keeping you prisoner. He didn’t even flinch. You kicks became stronger and more desperate, fighting against him while he did absolutely nothing to you. Sukuna looked at you in surprise, not expecting to be pushed away like this. Usually it took him a few intimidating looks and some sugarcoated words to make you forget that you were mad at him.

No more gaslighting.

No more forgiveness without an apology.

No more loving by yourself for the both of you.

“What the fuck are you doing, y/n?!” He asked in a raspy voice, placing large hands on your bare thighs and forcing them flat against the floor. But now you pushed him away with your arms, although your hands weren’t sure if they should cling to his shirt and pull him close or push him away from you.

“You don’t love me!” Your voice broke and you started crying, salty tears rolling down your flushed cheeks.

You just did it. You said that one thing that had been eating you from inside out for so long, that thing that you were so afraid of voicing out loud. You stopped struggling altogether. Sukuna’s heart broke. He always thought he could get away with his way of living, even after getting into this relationship. You would understand. You would forgive. You would know nobody else meant shit and you were the most important person to him.

“I have you right here, silly.” He said, his hand gesturing to his chest. He was referring to the tattoo he got a couple months ago, a small addition to his collection, your name right above his heart. You were never into this kind of things but he came up with the idea and you guessed you were important enough to him to be part of the story on his skin.

“You can always cover it up.” You said, unable to understand that this was his way of saying I love you, his way of carrying you in his heart at all times. “But what about my heart? I can't cover that up.” You brought your knees to your chest, hugging them with your arms, resting your forehead on top of them. You were so small, so frail. Sukuna used to think you were a strong soul but it seemed that you were more vulnerable than you showed. He had just broken you. Continuously hit your seemingly indestructible outer layer, like a glass that cracked more and more with time, until it shattered completely tonight. He wanted to hug you, to comfort you, to reassure you. But you only wanted one thing. He knew the only thing that would give him a chance would be to say three simple words. And he couldn’t bring himself to say them. So he just sat there on the floor with you, while you sobbed your pain away. The strong and mighty Ryomen Sukuna whom so many people feared was reduced to silence by a woman.

“Go away, Sukuna.” You said when your sobs quieted down, your tears ran dry and your mind started to clear out. You rose your eyes to look at him, still standing in front of you. “Go away!” You said, louder this time, like trying to get a dog to stop following you.

“Do you really want me to leave, you brat?” He asked, hoping that you would change your mind in the last minute.

“Get the fuck out!” You yelled, grabbing whatever your hand found closest to you and throwing it in his direction. It was his pack of cigarettes that was now half empty. It hit him right in his chest before falling miserably on the floor. He didn’t even feel it.

Sukuna had been trying to get in contact with you for the past two weeks. Work had him busy and exhausted all the time but not enough to forget that you weren’t answering his calls, weren’t replying his messages. You even got rid of the airtag he had given you to know your location at all times for safety. He pestered his little brother Yuuji to talk to you but he kept saying you weren’t answering him either. The brat was lying, he knew it. These two weeks had passed excruciatingly slow for Sukuna. It seemed like you had given up on him completely. In an attempt to tend to his shattered ego, given that all hope was gone for his broken heart, he decided to get rid of the tattoo of your name on his chest. He wasn’t going to cover it, like you said. He was going to remove it for good.

“You have to sign here aaand here.” The guy at the reception handed him a pen for the paperwork. Sukuna was just about to sign when his phone rang. When he saw the picture of his little brother on the screen his heart skipped a beat. He was so pathetic. He really hoped Yuuji had some news about you.

“I’m busy, what is it?”

“Uhm, it’s about y/n.” Yuuji’s voice was hesitant, like he still wasn’t sure he was supposed to share this information.

“What about y/n?” Sukuna was growing impatient.

“I think… I think she might be going on a date.” Sukuna’s vision darkened. The grip on his phone was so tight his knuckles turned white.

“Not on my fucking watch.” He muttered between his teeth. “Send me the location.” He turned on his heels in a second, walking out of the building with rushed angry steps.

“Uhm, sir? Your appointment?” The guy at the reception yelled, confused.

“I ain’t removing shit!” He yelled back as he reached his motorcycle. Yuuji had already sent him your location.

《previous Ascension | next》 2. Wash Away

True Form! Sukuna x Reader

[togrowoldinv]

Memory

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

You feel like you’ve met her before, but you just can’t remember when or how. It turns out there’s a lot you don’t remember

Note: Hey y’all. I have been swamped these last couple of weeks studying for and taking a part of the cpa exam, but I finally had a free moment to have some fun. I went and saw Argylle, so this is loosely inspired by that. Enjoy it!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

The room is silent aside from the clicks of a keyboard as Natasha tries to break through a firewall. She’s smart, but the person who created it is slightly smarter than her.

The redhead smirks when she is one step from breaking through, but her cheekiness doesn’t last. An alarm sounds and she’s met with at least ten agents swarming all around her.

“Oh hey, guess you guys found the party,” she says in her usual cool under pressure tone.

She uses the agents’ hesitation to begin attacking them to deal the first blows. She takes them down two at a time until there’s only one left. She knows who he is.

“Are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?” Natasha asks.

“You know what I want,” he says.

“And you know what I want,” Nat replies.

The two of them keep their guns in ready position. Nat alerted for backup, but she knows most likely she’ll have to handle this on her own.

“Where is the woman?” The man asks. He shakes his gun at Nat. She sees a weakness in the way he’s holding it. He won’t last.

“If you give me the intel, I’ll give you her location,” Nat says.

“You’re lying!”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m telling you the truth. They’re never really that different, right?”

“Drop your weapon,” he tries another tactic.

Natasha just smirks. She moves her left arm down and the man mistakenly thinks she’s giving in. The moment he shifts his aim Nat takes a shot at him. It’s an easy shot for her.

He goes down and Nat finishes gathering her data from the computer before she quickly gets out of the building. That backup she was waiting for finally arrives as she’s making her way outside.

“Thanks for the help,” she says sarcastically as Steve opens the door for her.

“Sorry,” he says. “We can’t be everywhere all the time. What were you even doing here?”

“Gathering intel,” Nat says simply. She shows him the flash drive and he just shakes his head. “The more I can find out the better I can help her, Steve. It’s an easy choice to make.”

“Nat, she’s so far gone,” he tries. “It might be worth stopping.”

“I’ll never give up on her. She’ll be herself again. I know it,” Natasha says. “Now, will you help me get this to Stark to decode?”

“Of course I’ll help you, Romanoff.”

She nods in thanks. For the rest of the drive, Natasha thinks about what her next step should be. There’s no easy fix to this situation. She needs to go where her mind works best.

Meanwhile, you are working on cleaning tables when the most beautiful woman walks in. You’ve seen her in here several times since you started working here.

She always sits at the table in the corner and orders coffee and a piece of chocolate pie. It’s always the same thing. You’ve never waited on her before, but somehow the stars align today and you’re covering that section.

You walk to her table and take a deep breath. She’s even more beautiful from this close up.

“Hey, how are you today?” You ask her.

“I’m okay,” she replies. “How are you?”

“Can’t complain,” you say. It’s your typical response when a customer asks you that question. “What can I get for you, ma’am?”

She orders her usual. You feel her eyes linger on you as you pour the coffee and bring her slice of pie to the table.

Something feels familiar about the way she smiles at you in thanks.

“Do I know you?” You ask her. She doesn’t reply, but you notice she looks away from you. “Sorry, it’s just that I had some memory loss so I’m just not quite sure who I know at this point.”

“Oh, I’m very sorry,” she says. “I don’t think we know each other though, no.”

“You seem familiar,” you tell her.

“Well, I am an Avenger so maybe that’s it,” she says. “I’m Natasha.”

“Right. The superheroes. It’s nice to meet you, Natasha,” you say. “I’m y/n.”

You hold out your hand for her to shake. When she does, you swear there’s still a lingering feeling that you know her. Maybe you’ve just seen her on television.

“I better get back to work,” you say.

“Nice to meet you, y/n,” Natasha says.

She stands from her chair and drops cash on the table. Walking towards the door, she stops short and turns back to look at you. You offer her a smile that she returns.

With that, she disappears into the city. The rest of the day goes by seemingly without any other excitement. You can’t stop thinking about your interaction with the woman, which is why you thought you were dreaming when she shows up at your door.

You blink hard to try and wake up, but the reality is that she’s truly here.

“Natasha?” You ask confusedly.

“I don’t have time to explain,” she says. “Can I come in?”

“I- what? Okay?”

She takes that as a yes. She walks inside and goes straight to the corner of the room where she picks up a piece of the floor to reveal a secret storage area.

Natasha fills her bag with the weapons that were stored under the floor.

“What is happening?” You ask her.

“Just trust me,” Nat says.

“I just met you today and you somehow know about this secret area of my house I didn’t even know about. And I’m supposed to trust you?”

“Yes,” Natasha replies. “Come on. Get some shoes on. We have two minutes.”

“Two minutes before what?”

She doesn’t get the chance to answer before a loud bang comes from outside. A series of car doors close simultaneously.

“Look, I know you don’t know me but you have to trust me. These guys are after you and if we don’t bail in the next thirty seconds we’re dead. Got it?” Natasha says.

“What?” You ask. It seems to be the only word in your vocabulary right now.

She grabs your hand and pulls you through your house. Once you’re outside, you go through the fence to the neighbors yard.

“Here,” Nat says, pulling you to a motorcycle that’s waiting there.

“I am not riding on that,” you say.

“Then you’ll be dead within minutes. Come on, y/n,” Nat says. She puts the helmet on your head involuntarily.

You have no choice but to listen to her. Hopping onto the bike, you hold on tight to her middle as she drives through the streets. At some point, a van is tailing the two of you. Natasha turns down every alleyway and street she can to get you away from the tail.

“When I say jump, you’ve got to jump!” Nat says over the roar of the engine.

“What?”

You’re quickly approaching a road that you can see has no end. She drives full speed ahead before letting go of the handlebars.

“Jump!” Nat shouts.

You cling onto her as you both jump. You have no idea how far the drop is but somehow you land in water. Natasha pulls you to the surface quickly.

You get to shore and try to gather yourself some. You’re so confused about all of this.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

“Am I okay?” You ask her. “Seriously, you’re asking me that? I don’t know who you are or what’s happening. We just got chased by a van through town and jumped off a motorcycle into a fucking lake. Do you think I’m okay?”

The woman has the audacity to smile at your words.

“I’m sorry, do you think this is funny?” You ask her, feeling fury seethe inside you.

“No,” Natasha says too quickly. “No, it’s just- nevermind. We have to get to the Avenger’s compound.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you tell her matter of factly.

“Y/n-“

“Don’t!” You interrupt her. “Just leave me alone.”

Nat raises her hands in surrender and watches as you walk away. She lets you get ten steps ahead before she follows after you.

“I told you to let me be.”

“You’re up there all alone. I just happen to be walking in the same direction,” Natasha reasons. “Although, the compound is the other way.”

Despite the fact that you were just doing insanely dangerous tasks with her, you feel a certain safety in her presence.

“Why should I go with you?” You pose a question.

You notice her hesitation in answering. Like she wants to tell you something but she just can’t.

“If you just come with me, I’ll explain everything there. Okay? Please give me a chance,” Nat says. “I won’t be responsible for them finding you and finishing the job.”

“What job? I’m just a waitress. Who could I possibly have wronged?”

“I promise I’ll explain later,” Nat says. “Please follow me.”

You relent and follow her. There’s no reason for you to trust her but somehow you do. It doesn’t take long to get to the compound once Nat hot wires a car.

“Y/n?” A girl asks when you are inside. You look at her despondently and she frowns. Natasha gives he’s her a look.

You follow Natasha to what seems to be a laboratory. There’s a large screen on the wall.

“Ah welcome,” a man says. You recognize him as Iron Man. “You’re just in time.”

“For?” You ask.

“The truth,” another man answers. You’re pretty sure he’s Captain America.

Before you can speak again, photos of you litter the screen. There are some of just you and some of you and the other Avengers.

“What the hell?” You wonder aloud.

“Y/n, we wanted you to remember on your own but it’s taking too long,” Tony Stark explains. “Natasha tried to jog your memory just by being in your presence, but that didn’t work.”

“So I do know you?” You ask the woman.

“You know all of us, y/n. You’re an Avenger.”

“But I’m- no. I’m a waitress,” you say. Your head feels like it’s spinning.

“That’s what they made you think, but you’re not. You’re a special agent,” Steve says. “And one of the best.”

“I don’t believe you. This is all a joke, right?”

“It’s not a joke, y/n. Why do you think we knew those people were after you? Or that I knew about the floor in your house?” Natasha asks.

“That’s easy. You’ve been spying on me.”

“No,” she says simply.

“Then how?” No response. “This is just insane. I’m leaving.”

You start to walk away. You hear Natasha’s footsteps behind you.

“Natasha,” a warning voice comes from Tony. “Don’t.”

“You know what, you go ahead. Take a car of ours, y/n,” she says.

She holds up a pair of keys. You reach for them, but instead of giving them to you she throws a punch your way.

You surprisingly dodge it with ease. Natasha smirks at the way you look at your arms in confusion.

“How did I do that?”

“Come on, throw one,” she taunts you.

You do your best to punch her, but of course she dodges it. You spar back and forth until you’ve both had enough.

“Great, now that that’s over. Do you believe us?” Tony asks.

“I’m not sure,” you say. “How could I not know I’m an agent?”

“Brainwashing,” Natasha answers. “Very effective brainwashing.”

“But why?”

“Because you were going to uncover a huge invasion of Hydra in the government,” Steve explains. “We still can’t find the data that you had before they took it from you and erased all of your memories.”

“So the memory loss, that was a real feeling I was having?”

“It was,” Nat says. “The reason why wasn’t a car accident as they told you though. They captured you and essentially knocked you senseless.”

You rub your hands over your face as you try to take all of this in. Just a few hours ago you thought you knew who you were, but they’re telling you something completely different.

“We wanted you to remember on your own, so it might not be so overwhelming,” Nat says.

“So, we’re all what? Coworkers? Friends? I don’t remember any of you, or anything you’re describing,” you say.

“We’re friends,” Steve says. “You’re friends with all of us and with Nat-“

“Steve,” Nat interrupts. “She doesn’t need to hear that right now.”

“I don’t need to hear what?”

There are shouts down the hallway that interrupt your conversation. Tony suits up and Steve grabs his shield.

“Get her to safety,” he tells Nat.

She grabs your hand and takes you down the hallway to a door and down a ton of stairs. Nat locks a door behind her once you’ve reached the lowest level.

“They’ll handle them,” Nat says. “But the further you are from the fight the better.”

“What was Steve going to say?”

“Hm?”

“About you and me,” you prompt her.

Natasha tears her eyes from yours much the same way she did when you questioned if you knew her earlier.

“Natasha, please just tell me. Clearly, everything I thought I knew was a lie. What’s one more thing?”

“Okay,” she agrees. “We were- you and I were together.”

“Together?”

She nods.

“Define together. Like dating?”

“Kind of yeah,” she says. You look at her for more details. The silence prompts her to continue. “We were married. We are technically married.”

“Oh,” you say.

“Yeah. I didn’t think you were ready to learn that,” Nat says.

“So that’s why you knew your way around my place?”

“Our place,” she says. “But they moved all of my stuff out before you went back there.”

“Natasha, I don’t- I can’t remember anything,” you say.

“I know,” Nat says sadly. “We kept our distance once we realized what they did to you, but we’ve never stopped making sure you were safe.”

You hear the sound of the fight getting closer. Natasha reaches for your hand. She places a loaded gun in your palm.

“I want to remember.”

“You will,” Nat says. “But right now, you’ve got to fight.”

To be continued…

[worseforwords]

The Arrangement

(Alessia Russo x Reader)

Chapter I of Marshmallow

“Sweetheart? Can you hear me?” your mom’s voice cackled through the phone. “Take your phone off your ear, mum, you’ve facetimed me,” you chuckled. “Oh, right. Hi, darling, lovely to SEE you,” she giggled at her own joke. “How are you, love? And where are you? I don’t recognise that wall behind you,” she inquired. “I’m in the changing room at Arsenal, you know, my job.” “Right, ‘course. Everything alright? How’s your g-” “Yeah, everything’s good,” you quickly interrupted her, hoping no one in the changing room caught on to what she was about to say. “I have to head to training soon, mum. Did you want anything from me?” “Right, busy woman, no time for chit-chat with her mum. Your dad and I were just wondering if we could come visit you anytime soon. We haven’t seen you since Christmas, and we would both really love to meet your girlfriend!” She said that last part with a bit too much excitement, and you were sure you saw some heads snap your way from the corner of your eye. “Ehh, yeah, I’m just a little busy at the moment with football, so I’m not sure when I’ll be free,” you said as you quickly turned down the volume of your phone. “I know, darling, but I noticed there’s no match scheduled the weekend after the next one, so you’ll be free then, right?” Another disadvantage of being a professional athlete: usually having a very public schedule. “Right, yeah, I think so. I’ll call you after training, mum.”

You hung up after both of you exchanged goodbyes and you immediately noticed a few eyes on you. One pair belonged to a smirking Katie, who quickly plumped herself down next to you. “What was that I heard? Does somebody have a new girlfriend?” “What the hell, why haven’t I heard about this?” Leah joined in. “Lotte, did you know?” Your roommate Lotte shook her head. “Haven’t seen or heard anyone at our house.” “How is that even possible?” Victoria wondered out loud. “Is it a long-distance thing?” Caitlin joined in on the conversation. By this point, you were surrounded by your teammates, gazing at you, awaiting answers, and your head was spinning, trying to come up with anything to explain your situation.

Ultimately you decided on just telling them the truth, knowing full well a lie wasn’t getting you out of this situation. “There is no girlfriend,” you said quietly. Clearly, your answer wasn’t satisfactory as everyone kept staring at you frantically. “My parents kept asking me when I would finally bring someone home because my brother and sister are both happily married or engaged homeowners starting their own families. They keep telling me not to wait until it’s too late. At Christmas, when they started again, I finally snapped. I lied and told them I have a girlfriend.” You took a quick breath before you continued. “Only it backfired because now they won’t stop asking me about her, and apparently, I have to find a girlfriend within the next week or so.” You let your head fall into your hands dramatically. There was a short silence as everyone around you processed what you had just told them. Then a loud shriek as Katie burst out laughing. “Oh boy, you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble, mate!” she shouted. “Good luck with that.”

The next few minutes were filled with everyone either light-heartedly teasing your situation or attempting to play matchmaker and find you a girlfriend, which you knew was futile with only 10 days to go. This was precisely why you avoided going on dates. All the unwarranted attention and people meddling in your life, you didn't need it. You’d rather concentrate on the love of your life that you did have some control over: football. Fortunately, Kim took her captaincy very seriously and summoned everyone out of the changing room for training to begin, but not before sending you a sympathetic smile as you mouthed a quick “thank you” to her.

Training went by swiftly, and afterward, some of the girls gathered at Beth and Viv’s for dinner. You sat on the sofa with Laura and Viv as Alessia was directing Vic in the kitchen, and Beth was setting the table. “So, Y/N, are you going to tell your parents the truth about your girlfriend... or lack thereof?” Laura asked. “I don’t know; it’ll be so embarrassing. And I definitely won’t be able to hold off on them trying to set me up with their neighbour’s son, who is studying to be a doctor, or my mum’s colleague’s daughter who’s in law school.” You imitated your mom as you talked about the people your parent wanted to set you up with before dramatically making a barf gesture. “But what else can you do?” Viv asked. “Let’s see... Fake my own death and start a new life elsewhere? Start studying robotics and learn to design my own robot girlfriend? Pretend I’ve got short-term memory loss and have forgotten who my own girlfriend is?”

“Okay, I need to join in on this, scoot,” Beth waved her hands, gesturing for you to move over. “The fact that you thought of building a robot girlfriend before considering finding an actual girlfriend is insane,” she said, almost like she was scolding you. “I get it,” mumbled Viv as Beth immediately sent her a stern glare to which she responded with by blowing her a quick kiss. “I don’t want a relationship right now. Besides, 10 days is way too little time to find someone,” you said, ignoring their antics. “Fine, have it your way, go with the robot. Vic can help you; she’s studied maths,” she joked as she got up again. “Excuse me,” Vic got involved from the kitchen. “Which of my subjects do you think is about robot girlfriends?” She giggled. “I say go with the Dory thing.”

“Vic, stir this sauce for a bit, please,” Alessia spoke sternly as she turned towards all of you. “Okay, I can’t believe no one has thought of this, but the solution is very simple. You just find someone who can pretend to be your girlfriend for the weekend your parents visit,” she explained as all of you listened. “Yes! Less, that’s a perfect plan,” Beth exclaimed. “But who should it be? Maybe you can hire an actor!” She added as you seriously considered this option for a moment. “Hm, I don’t know, seems kind of risky if they don’t really know me,” you said. 

“Yeah, you should probably pick a friend, someone you’ve known for a while and who knows what you’re up to these days,” Laura stated. “Sooo, maybe a teammate?” Vic suggested. “Yes!” Beth shouted again. “A teammate. But who? Obviously not someone who is openly dating someone else already, so me and Viv are out,” she then stated more calmly. “Laura and I can’t make it either, we’re going out with the Aussies, remember?” Vic asked as Laura nodded.

A silence fell as everyone sort of stared at Alessia, who was too focused on her cooking to notice. “Less?” Beth caught her attention, making her jump a little when she noticed everyone’s hopeful gazes fixated on her. “Are you available?” she asked. “Oh yeah sure, I’ll do it.” Alessia sent you a quick smile before continuing to make dinner. “That settles it then,” Beth said, giving you no say in the matter whatsoever. If you were being honest, though, you were just glad you had found somewhat of a solution to your problem. Besides, you didn’t know Alessia that well, the two of you usually being in different friend groups within the team and you had been intrigued to get to know her better for a while now.

The next few days in training everyone was mostly focussed on the game ahead. Some new pieces of gossip flooded the changing room and much to your delight, you and your love life were left unspoken of. It almost seemed a bit too good to be true, and you were now starting to worry it had all been a joke that you took too seriously. After all, the whole plan was a bit insane, definitely unlike anything you had ever done before. Were you just too desperate to notice that it was all banter?

"Everything alright, Y/N?” Alessia's voice jolted you from your mental spirals. “You seem a bit distracted.” “Yeah, all good. My mind just wandered for a second.” You feigned a smile. “Okay.” She returned the smile. “Hey, Alessia,” you began before she could exit the changing room. “Can I talk to you for a second?” “Yeah, of course. What’s up?” She settled herself beside you.

“So, you know about our crazy fake girlfriend plan, and—” “Correction, it’s my crazy plan, not ‘our’. My idea.” She interjected with a satisfied expression. “Right, your crazy plan. Anyhow, I realise you were put on the spot when Beth asked if you were available. I just wanted to say you don’t have to do it; I can find someone else,” you spoke hesitantly. “Oh no, I want to do it. Unless you’d prefer someone else, of course.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” you quickly clarified. “Alright then, let’s do it.” You offered a shy smile. “Ehh, I hope that’s not how you planned on asking me,” she giggled. You shot her an ‘are you serious?’ look. She responded with what you assumed was her best ‘yes, I’m serious, how dare you even question that’ expression. “Give me one second.”

You darted around the corner, returning a few seconds later with a ring made from bright blue kinesiology tape. “Alessia Russo, will you do me the honour of being my fake girlfriend for the weekend?” you proposed, getting down on one knee before her. “Yes, YES, a thousand times yes!” She dramatically pretended to swoon as you slid the makeshift ring onto her finger.

“Right, so my parents will be visiting from Friday night until Sunday, most likely,” you swiftly changed the subject, attempting to avoid any blush creeping onto your cheeks. “But you don’t have to be there for the entire duration, of course. If you could just pop in for a bit on Saturday, that would be great,” you suggested. “Oh, well I don’t really have any other plans because I assumed this would be an all-weekend kind of thing,” she replied softly, and you felt the warmth in your cheeks intensify. “And Dan is out of town anyway.”

Right, Dan. Her boyfriend. You were aware of him, you had met him – this wasn’t new information. So why did you suddenly feel a knot tightening in your stomach at Alessia mentioning him? “So, what do you want me to be like?” She brought you back from your thoughts. “What do you mean?” You asked. “I mean, how do you want me to be around your parents? We’ve got to impress them, right?” She explained. “Oh, just be yourself. They’ll love you. I know they will,” you assured her as she got up from the bench, ready to go warm up.

“Whatever happened in here?” Leah asked as she entered the changing room, followed by some other girls, right after Alessia had left. “What do you mean?” You inquired. “Well, Less just almost walked into me; she was all flustered and smiley, and now here you are, looking all flustered and upset,” she explained. “Nothing happened. I’m not upset. Just a bit nervous about my parents visiting and everything,” you lied. Either Leah didn’t notice or she decided to let you off the hook, but either way, she didn’t ask any further questions about it. As one of your best friends, Leah knew you very well, and she also knew that questioning you in a room full of people was the worst thing she could do to you. 

“So is Less still coming?” Beth inquired. “Yes,” you mumbled, not wanting everyone to get involved again, but with no success. “Less?” Katie jumped in. “Why would she come?” Luckily, Beth came to your aid and explained the whole situation to everyone there so you didn’t have to.

“That’s a great plan,” Katie finally spoke. “But how will we make it believable?” “I’m sorry, we?” You tried to interrupt. “We should quiz them!” Beth suggested loudly, ignoring you entirely. “What is happening?” You mumbled to Leah who just laughed at you in response. “Yes! Lotte, can you come up with some questions about Less, and Leah, you can do the same for Y/N.” 

Somehow, everyone had agreed on the quiz idea, and once again, you had no say in it. On Wednesday night, a few of the girls gathered at Lotte and your place to prepare you and Alessia for the weekend. The anticipation in the air was as thick as the excitement before a big match. Tables were set up, and a stack of papers with questions lay in the centre. Lotte, with her mischievous smile, and Leah, ever ready for a good laugh, were the architects of this grand interrogation.

You, Alessia, and the rest of the team settled in around the living room. The atmosphere was a mix of nerves and amusement, everyone eager to see how this plan would unfold. Beth, who put on an oversized blazer and a bright red Arsenal bowtie for the occasion, took charge, announcing the rules with a theatrical flourish.

“Alright, everyone! Welcome to the Ultimate Fake Girlfriend Quiz Night!” She exclaimed, earning a round of laughter. “We’ve got questions about Y/N for Alessia and questions about Alessia for Y/N. Let’s see how well our fake couple knows each other.” The room erupted into cheers. Lotte, holding a list of questions about Alessia, winked at you. Leah, armed with questions about you, looked equally mischievous.

The first round began, and Leah fired off questions about you. Alessia, to everyone’s surprise, answered with remarkable accuracy. “Alright, Alessia,” Leah said with a smirk, “what’s Y/N’s guilty pleasure snack?”

Alessia pondered for a moment, a playful glint in her eyes. “Chocolate-covered pretzels. She hides them in the back of a cabinet, but I always find them.” Laughter filled the room. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at Alessia, impressed and slightly amused that she had picked up on your secret indulgence. Apparently her close friendship with your roommate had given her quite an advantage.

Lotte, taking her turn, quizzed you about Alessia’s life. “What’s Alessia’s weirdest talent?” she asked with a sly grin. You thought for a moment, realising Alessia had shared a few quirky skills in the changing room. “She can do this weird thing with her tongue, like roll it into a clover shape. It’s bizarrely impressive.”

Alessia blushed, seemingly surprised that you remembered such a minor detail. The room erupted into cheers again. As the quiz progressed, Alessia consistently demonstrated an uncanny knowledge of your habits and likes. It seemed like she had been paying much more attention than you thought.

The highlight came when Leah, with a devious smile, presented the final question: “What’s Y/N’s weirdest habit in the morning?” Alessia, grinning confidently, answered, “She talks to herself in the mirror while doing her hair. Full-on conversations with her own reflection.” Your face turned crimson, and a chorus of laughter echoed through the room. You shot Alessia a playful glare.

The quiz ended and the consensus was clear — Alessia and you knew each other surprisingly well, considering this was supposed to be a fake relationship. However, Katie, ever the provocateur, couldn’t resist stirring the pot.

She leaned forward with a teasing grin. “So, you two aced the quiz, but do you even have any chemistry?” Her question hung in the air, causing a collective intake of breath from the spectators. Alessia looked at you, a subtle uncertainty in her eyes. “Seriously, guys, you need to up your game. You look way too platonic.”

Your teammates, now fully invested in your fake romance, decided to play relationship coaches. “Alright, stand up,” Beth commanded. “Let’s see how you two handle physical proximity. Hug. Now.” You and Alessia exchanged a glance, both feeling a bit awkward. You hesitated for a moment before tentatively wrapping your arms around each other. The teammates observed and then erupted into a chorus of opinions.

“Too stiff!”

“More like you mean it!”

“Look into each other’s eyes, not the ceiling!”

You and Alessia shared an amused yet bewildered look. The teammates continued their analysis, discussing everything from hand-holding techniques to the positioning of your bodies. It was like a crash course in relationship theatrics. “Alright, sit down,” Beth commanded again. “You two are sitting too far apart. Scoot closer.”

As you and Alessia moved to sit side by side, Steph suggested, “Try a more casual touch. Like, Y/N, put your hand on Alessia’s leg.” Panic flashed across your face, but you complied, very carefully placing your hand on Alessia’s leg. The room erupted into laughter again.

“Okay, she said casual, Y/N. She’s not made of thin glass now is she?” Beth joked, and Alessia chuckled as you adjusted your grip, secretly wanting to disappear into the couch. The teammates continued to give advice, critiquing every move and gesture. Amidst the laughter and chaos, Laura suggested, “You guys should try the 36 Questions. You know, that study that makes people fall in love?”

That mention drew curious looks from you and Alessia. Beth explained, “People say you’ll fall in love if you answer them honestly with someone. It could help you two look more... well, in love.” The idea was met with a mix of enthusiasm and skepticism. “Homework for our fake couple!” Beth declared, and everyone laughed.

As the evening wound down, the teammates left your place. Everyone but Alessia, who offered to help you clean the place up. Lotte went to bed, leaving you and your now approved ‘fake girlfriend’ with a newfound list of relationship do’s and don’ts, along with the prospect of a homework assignment that promised to make your fake relationship more convincing.

“So… I guess we’ve got some homework to do,” you said, feeling very awkward all of a sudden now that it was just you two. You then realised you had never really hung out together without at least one other person being there. “Yeah, 36 questions,” she started as she grabbed her phone. “Do you believe in this?”

“No of course not,” you said, ever the sceptic. “But I do believe Katie is gonna murder us if we don’t do our homework. Both of you exchanged glances like, ‘Are we really doing this?’ and rolled your eyes in silent agreement that this was a bit of a silly experiment.

“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” She read the first question from her phone, immediately gazing at the ceiling as if in thought about her answer. “I bet yours would be Michael Jordan,” you said. “Hey, I’m asking you about your answer not mine!” She giggled as she elbowed your shoulder. 

“Fine, let me think. Do they have to be alive?” You wondered. “I mean I guess it says ‘anyone’, so if you want to have dinner with a corpse, by all means,” she chuckled. “No, not like that, ew,” you now elbowed her. “I just mean I would love to have dinner with my grandma. She’s sacrificed so much for our family, but I only ever knew her as a child so I’ve never been able to thank her for it.” Still in thought you stared at your feet for a bit until you realised it had been quiet for a while in your living room. 

“Sorry,” you said, quickly looking up and finding Alessia’s eyes already on you with a look you couldn’t quite place. “I’ll just go with Beyoncé, she’d be a cool dinner guest,” you quickly changed your answer. “No, no, that was really sweet. I bet your grandma would love to have dinner with you too. And I’m sure she knew you’d be grateful,” she said softly, her eyes remaining on yours. “Yeah well, you just called her a corpse so that idea is kind of ruined for me now,” you teased. “No I didn’t!” She protested.

The first couple of questions were mostly light and you chuckled at each other’s silly answers. However, as you continued down the list, the questions became increasingly deep and personal and as eye-rolls turned into thoughtful pondering, you both found yourselves sharing way more than you had expected. 

Alessia’s responses were open and honest as she shared stories about her childhood dreams, the hurdles in her football journey, and her aspirations beyond the pitch. One question, in particular, struck a chord: “If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?” Alessia’s response was heartfelt. “I’d want to be fearless. Not just on the field, but in life. There are times when I feel held back by my own doubts and fears. I’d love to face everything without that weight.”

Her openness made it easy for you to share your own dreams and fears. The conversation flowed easily, moving through topics of love, aspirations, and personal histories. It felt like something shifted between the two of you. Alessia was no longer just a teammate or a fake girlfriend to you. She was someone you could talk to, someone you felt a genuine connection with and you had a newfound appreciation for her.

By the time you had finished the first set of questions you finally looked at the time. “Oh my god, Alessia, it’s 2 am!” You both jumped up. Two hours had passed since everyone had left and you had an early training the next morning. “Really? How did that happen. I should run then,” she said.

“Hey, do you want to stay over?” You asked as you immediately noticed her questioning expression. “In the guest room I mean. Just cause we have an early training tomorrow and I don’t want you to be exhausted.” You quickly added. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” She smiled shyly at you. “Okay, be right back.” You stated as you sprinted towards your bedroom.

You returned a few minutes later with a bunch of stuff in your arms. “Here’s an unused toothbrush, towels are in the bathroom cabinet, and I didn’t know what you like to sleep in so here’s some shorts, joggers, a t-shirt and a hoodie. Wear whatever you want.” You rambled nervously as she chuckled. “Thank you Y/N. Good night.”

The next morning, your alarm blared, pulling you from the depths of sleep. Groggily, you stumbled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Training awaited, and as you yawned your way through the morning routine, the events of the previous night flashed in your mind. You couldn’t help but glance at Alessia, who was already up, seemingly more awake than you were. She flashed you a tired yet friendly smile. “Morning,” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. “Morning,” you replied, trying to shake off the remnants of your dreams. The two of you exchanged a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the peculiar situation you found yourselves in.

As you headed to training together, you couldn’t ignore the amused glances from your teammates. Alessia, clad in your training gear because she hadn’t brought her own, was the target of playful banter. “Nice walk of shame, Alessia!” Katie teased, eliciting laughter from others. “You two look tired, looks like our chemistry experiments worked a little too wel!” Quipped Beth, pointing out the bags under both your eyes.

Training progressed as usual, but not without the occasional teasing from one of your teammates. You knew none of them really meant anything by it though. Everyone knew it was just a bit and that the two of you were no more than friends. And so did you, cause that was the deal, right? 

“You know,” Alessia began when the two of you were alone for a second after Katie asked her when you were planning your next sleepover, “despite all the teasing and the fake girlfriend stuff, I’m kind of enjoying getting to know you better.” You felt your cheeks starting to flush as you took in her genuine smile. “Yeah, me too. It’s strange how these things work out.” You tried your best to reciprocate her smile without blushing too hard. What on earth was happening to you?

The day went by swiftly as the prospect of having Alessia around as your fake girlfriend all weekend had you slowly spiral into a nervous wreck. When Friday afternoon finally arrived, you stood in front of the bathroom mirror as you went over the many things that could go wrong. What if your parents didn’t believe it? What if they did? What would that even mean? What if she never even showed up cause who were you to think she would do something like that for you? What if her boyfriend got mad? What if she suddenly started liking you, for real? What if she didn’t?

You splashed water in your face, desperately trying to stop your mind from spiralling, and more specifically to erase those last thoughts. Where was your mind coming up with all this none-sense? Was there something more to this? Another splash. No. None-sense. You groaned as you watched drops of water trickle down your face. 

“Y/N? Everything okay?” You heard Lotte’s voice call out from the other side of the locked bathroom door. “Less is here.” You inhaled a sharp breath as you felt a familiar knot form in your stomach. “Shit,” you mumbled to yourself. “Be right there!”

“You’re early,” is the first thing you said when you came out of the bathroom after quickly drying yourself off and fixing your hair. “Nice to see you too.” A kindly smiling Alessia appeared once you opened the door. “Thought I’d help you prepare before your parents show up. Hey, are you okay?” She gazed at you as if she was examining your current state. “Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry, hi, thank you for being here.” You opened up your arms as an invitation for a hug which she accepted immediately.

“Allright, lovebirds, I’m out.” Lotte said, suitcase in hand as she hugged you both goodbye, leaving for a little romantic getaway with her boyfriend. “Have fun!” You both shouted at the same time as she closed the door behind herself.

You spent the next hour or so getting the house ready for your parent’s arrival and providing Alessia with all the necessary information on your family, as if you were doing a last minute study session for an exam.

Then, a knock on the door echoed through the house, signalling the arrival of your parents. A surge of nerves shot through you as you exchanged a quick glance with Alessia. You both took a deep breath, steeling yourselves for the upcoming performance. “Ready?” Alessia whispered, and you nodded, though your heart was doing a drumroll in your chest.

-> Chapter II

[helluvapoison]

how would the overlords propose?

Say Yes

how the overlords would propose

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Carmilla Carmine ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Romance isn’t an afterthought to her, as hard as that is to believe. Carmilla is a very passionate woman… it just comes after logic. Whether you knew it or not, you’ve been put to the test much earlier on. (How you treat her daughters and how they like you is the most important part, if you didn’t pass you wouldn’t have made it this far)

By now she knows you’re worthy and she’ll bring you into her world permanently. Carmilla plans something intimate. She surprises you in her office for a candlelit dinner, courtesy of her private chef! She is a businesswoman first so she gets straight to the point and asks for your hand, literally, slipping the band into your finger.

“Marry me,” Carmilla says, uncharacteristically soft, “With you at my side, I will be complete.”

˚✧₊⁎ Zestial ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Telling himself there’s no rush, that he could wait a thousand more lifetimes to make you completely his, doesn’t cure the urgency to do it anyways. He’s seen any ounce of goodness down here nabbed before anyone else can take it for themselves. Zestial never claimed to be unselfish, only patient. He tests the question to himself first very early on. Then he phrases it differently to you or refers to himself as your husband to others. You mistake it for a slip up and smile anyways. A delightful sign in his eyes.

Zestial is pleased that you don’t suspect it. How could you when he’s merely being his usual, charming self? He takes you strolling down the same path you took when he first began courting you. Ever the gentleman, he pauses before the bridge over the river of magma and actually kneels.

“Would thou spend the rest of this infernal afterlife beside thyself? Say yes and I swear never to stray and never to allow harm to befall thee. Thou shall only know happiness from this moment on.”

˚✧₊⁎ Alastor ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Love at first sight doesn’t exist so do not twist his words when he says he knew you belonged to him the moment you met. Feelings were bothersome and you flooded his entire being with them with a simple gaze. Lingering between the emotions was always pain, which he was familiar with. Unfortunately for him, the cure for his ailment was always you. Marriage was not in the cards for either of you. Alastor thought he had no intention of going through such hassle until he couldn’t stop staring at the vacant spot on your ring finger. Bothersome.

Truly you had no idea what he was plotting. It wasn’t uncommon for him to bring you to his radio tower, going over notes with him or just quietly hanging about while he worked. He told you there would be a guest on his next show and he wanted to rehearse the questions. Simple enough. Before you even read the last one Alastor stopped you with a finger to the lips,

“Pardon my dear, you’ve been a wonderful co host— utterly indispensable these past few years— but that’s my line!” There’s a flicker of hesitation before his smile takes a slightly gentler form, a side of Alastor only you’re privy to, “Will you marry me?”

˚✧₊⁎ Rosie ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Since she was married a few times already, you thought Rosie would be over the whole thing by now. Well you couldn’t be more wrong if you tried! She adores weddings, from organizing them to being in them; the whole shabang is right up her alley! There was a reason her ex husbands didn’t work out but you don’t have to worry about the whys and whatnots. You’re oh so very special to Rosie, she couldn’t bear the thought of losing you!

The fact you think marriage is off the table has her giddy. She loves having the element of surprise! Cannibal’s left and right are in on the plot, making sure you’re exactly where you need to be all day long until you reach the town square at sunset. Crimson rose petals lead you to the gazebo where candles are lit all around your Radiant Rosie. She smiles so fondly at you it makes your knees weak as you climb the steps to reach her. She poured her love into two pages, prepared to make it her best speech ever but the second you were in front of her everything went out the window!

“Oh! I can’t wait another minute! Marry me, won’t you?”

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ the vees might get their own part cause, i feel, they’re particular about marriage

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

First off your writing is incredible. I was in literal tears reading your Daryl fic.

But I thought I'd send in a request, a jealous Daryl. Doesnt have to be established reader, pretty easy. I just like it when he's all riled up. 😂 Please and thank you

Jealousy

Summary: He could have just told her, couldn’t he? That would have been simple. He’d had to yell at her instead though, because Daryl can never do things the usual way round. Hand down her skirt and about to run away for the second time really was more his style.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Nervous!Daryl. Angst. Fluff. Friends to lovers. Alexandria era. Vague, very short smut.

A/N: Thank you for this request and the beautiful compliment! I may have rushed the editing a little so if you notice any errors please tell me!

It’s not that she’s been avoiding him, it’s the complete opposite, she’s absolutely, inarguably, infuriatingly normal. He’s clawing at the walls of his own brain and she’s acting as if everything is fine. Maybe it is, he thinks, maybe she’s over it, maybe she’s been over it since the second he screwed it up and he’s the only one still hanging on to whatever it was in the first place. He can’t even claim he’s hanging on to much, they’d barely even kissed and it was months ago, but he hadn’t exactly been good at this kind of thing before the world threw a damn apocalypse into the mix.

He’d loved her since the moment he’d heard her laugh. He’d found her in a cabin in the woods on a run, just after Woodbury had fallen, back when the prison was still strong. He didn’t want to bring her back, one more mouth to feed, one more person to keep an eye on, but she’d saved him from a rogue walker he hadn’t seen coming, shrugged like it was nothing, like she’d have done it for anyone. She’d offered him food and water, a rundown but relatively safe place to lay low for a few hours, she was kind. The words were tumbling from his lips before he’d really thought about them.

He’d avoided her for a good while, despite her efforts to befriend him, he’d lost so much already he didn’t want to let her in. But then he’d said something sarcastic, something snappy and prissy and she’d laughed; an honest to goodness belly laugh that had her head throwing back and him smiling from the side of his mouth despite himself and something deep in his chest felt warm.

So he’d loved her, quietly and from a distance. Safe. Until she’d kissed him.

He watches as she laughs, the same laugh, big and warm and real. It’s not aimed at him, and he hates it. After he’d run away from her, he worried he wouldn’t hear it again, but he’d been wrong, and this was worse. He taps his fingers against his thigh, trying to keep a scowl from his face. Failing. He thinks steam would come out of his ears if it were within the realm of possibility.

He’s always too late. Always takes too long to get comfortable. Always spends so long waiting that he misses out on the thing he wanted, and she’s not a thing but his blood is fucking boiling. At the man she’s talking to, at himself, at her too if he’s a little honest.

The man, who’s name he doesn’t know and now never wants to, is handsome. If you’re into that suburban, well groomed, boring kind of thing. He has a punchable face. Daryl is not allowed to punch people unless its necessary anymore, Rick has told him that explicitly but surely flirting with his…flirting with the woman he’s in lo…flirting with her makes it necessary.

He can’t stand the thought that he might not be the last person to kiss her lips. He can’t stand looking any longer, but he doesn’t mean for his knife to clatter loudly on the floor as he tries to flee. He doesn’t dare turn around, but he’d be able to tell she was looking at him even in pitch black. Knows she’s watching the solid, tense set of his shoulders as he retreats.

-

She startles at the sight of him sitting on her porch, quickly schooling her face into the nonchalance she’s been practicing around him since they arrived. It was easy enough, on the road, to pretend he hadn’t hurt her. They were so busy trying to survive, so busy being busy that she could avoid an inevitable conversation where she’d had to apologise for getting their wires crossed.

But since they’ve been behind the walls of Alexandria? She can’t stop herself from searching him out, finding excuses to be near him, trying to act like they were back at the prison. Friends. She can do friends. She has been absolutely nailing being just friends, as long as she can ignore the tightness in her chest and the way she feels like she’s going to cry every time she walks away. Friends.

She flips the knife in her hand with ease, shielding his hand from the blade as she passes it back to him. He nods his thanks as he squints up at her.

“What crawled up your ass tonight?” She asks, but there’s a teasing smile on her face as leans against the railing to her house. The porch light is dim, warm golden yellow illuminating them. Daryl hasn’t been one for a lot of words in a long time, but he intends to bat the question away, distract her with something funny, something acerbic but good natured. Friendly, he can do friendly. He can’t, could barely do it on the road after everything happened. Now though, when she’s showered and brushed her hair and dressed up, lit up by a damn porch light? He doesn’t stand a chance.

“Dun’ kiss him”

“What the fuck?”

Fists clenching to calm himself down, unfurling them when he feels more grounded, he looks up at her again, daring to lock his eyes onto hers.

“Ya like him…tha’ guy?” He tries to keep his voice steady, hopes she doesn’t understand he’s begging her to say no, begging for her to give him a chance, but how many can one man have?

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Dun’ kiss him, please” He asks again, with a shake of his head, knocking his hair in front of his eyes as the ground in front of him becomes the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. She sighs quietly, but the sound reverberates in his brain, he can hear the disappointment that weighs it down, the disappointment he’d hoped to avoid by avoiding talking about this thing between them entirely.

“I’m not having this conversation with you on the porch” She pushes herself off the railing, turning to open the front floor. She means for him to leave but he follows her inside, tapping his fingers nervously against his thigh as he closes the door behind him. Every part of his body is telling him to run.

“I know I ain’t got no right t’ ask”

“No, you don’t. Why are you asking?”

“‘cause I can’t stand it”

“Why do you care?”

“’cause ya shouldn’t be wit’ him!”

“Who should I be with then, Daryl? Huh?” He doesn’t respond, not that she expects him to, head hanging low toward the ground “You have no answer, because it’s not you, is it? You didn’t want me!”

“I didn’t-what?”

He’d tried to make it obvious, had given her extra food, had nudged her shoulder with his, had talked to her more than anyone else. But she’d tried to kiss him and he’d fled, had retreated safely back into the comfort of his walls. Then he’d come back. He’d kissed her and again he’d fled. Daryl Dixon is the human embodiment of emotional whiplash. He knows he’s not easy, but he thought at least he’d been clear, he can’t imagine the way he looks at her has ever been subtle.

“I did want ya”

Her mind thinks over the weeks he’s been standoffish, the time he’s spent avoiding her touches, thinks back the first week they’d arrived here and he’s barely spoken a word, all the while watching her with an intensity that would have been uncomfortable if she hadn’t wanted his attention.

“I can’t do this, you can’t play with my head because you’re jealous all of a sudden”

“Ain’t jealous” He argues, knowing they both know he’s lying, but he still, even now, won’t let himself be vulnerable. “I know I fucked up, ‘kay? I know, but I’m ‘ere now!”

He snarls, frustrated and bordering on vicious, practically diving towards her as his hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise. He smashes his lips against hers, unpractised and clumsily before his brain catches up and he goes to pull away. Her response is so fast he doesn’t get a chance, dragging him back in as his brain shuts down.

The kiss is hard, angry and fast, all hip bones pressing into hip bones and teeth clacking against teeth. It’s not the romantic, affectionate start she was hoping for. It’s not the gentle steady and slow he was. She’s angry, he is too she can feel it in his body as he presses it against her.

The room spins, air thick and foggy with months’ worth of frustration, tension so thick it could be cut, it’s only when he swallows a heady, deep moan from her that he realises he needs more. Tongue sweeping into her mouth he grips the fabric of her skirt in his hand, bunching it up until he can reach an insistent, rough calloused hand inside her underwear, ripping his lips away from hers to heave a breath in. She’s soaked, dripping around his fingers and he’ll have time to be absolutely fucking floored by that when he recounts this later. His forehead sticks to hers as she moans.

It’s not that he hasn’t had trysts before, it’s just that they were short and unimportant, he’s barely been confident enough to use his hands. He wants to touch her in the right way, wants to know what he’s doing but she’s snaking a hand into his trousers and wrapping her fingers around his cock so thinking isn’t the top of his priorities right now.

It feels incredible, and in the vague recess of his brain he thinks he should have done this at a pace he'd be more comfortable with but he hasn’t done this in years, and barely successfully then so its not long before he comes all over her hand, whining as his head dips down to pant heavily against her collarbone. His fingers still, embarrassed and suddenly full of crippling self-doubt. She knows he’s going to remove them about a second before he does.

A thud echoes through the suddenly too big room as she tips her head back to hit the wall behind her.

“You leaving?” She lets out an incredulous laugh, hurt, betrayed, surprisingly unsurprised. The zip on his trousers seems louder than anything she’d yelled at him less than an hour before. It feels like an eternity before she lowers her head to look at him, doesn’t bother to mask the absolute disappointment on her features.

“I-uh-yeah-I”

She can practically see the walls slamming back up around him, the walls she’s been watching for weeks. A tear rolls down her cheek as he turns away from her, heading towards the front door.

“You don’t get another chance with me, Daryl” the finality in her voice makes him pause, hand on the doorknob. She sighs, hating that she’s about to give him the grace she is “You need to make up your mind, because I’m not waiting for you, not again. If you’re not certain by tomorrow you need to leave me alone”

The shaky nod from him is so small its almost imperceptible.

-

She’s not expecting the knock on her door as soon as the sun is up, really she isn’t. The whole night has been sleepless and filled to the brim with dread, knowing for sure that he wants her but fully believing he will never be able to let himself have her. She isn’t unaware of Daryl’s tendency to self-destruct. Maybe this is it, she thinks, maybe he values her enough as a friend if nothing else, to tell her face to face, but he’d never been able to before and the tiniest hint of hope lights her up as she treads carefully down the stairs.

Daryl stands there with a small, nervous but hopeful smile on his face. The hope hasn’t missed him, either. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, so out of his depth he might as well be drowning, but the knowledge that she wants this too means he’d rather fumble his way through this with her than do well without her.

“I’m a’ idiot”

“Yes you are” She laughs, setting him alight on the inside. The laugh that started al of this, almost. Doubt underneath her voice is the thing that finally settles it for him, makes him pull her towards him, gentle this time, the way he’d wanted. He’ll never let her doubt his feelings even when he doubts himself.

“I always wanted ya” he murmurs against her lips before closing the distance.

“You’re not going to run away again?”

“Ain’t runnin’, ain’t ever runnin’ again”

[amongemeraldclouds]

bookstore meet cute | jess mariano | flufftober masterlist | 729 words

a/n: special tag for the lovely @thatdammchickennugget ♡ glad you're back in your gilmore girls phase!

Your eyes lit up when you found the book you were looking for at the store. This was the third bookshop you had visited and you were starting to lose hope you'd ever get a copy of it.

You had already read The Subsect from the library, but you liked it enough to have wanted your own copy. It was a coming of age story that was sarcastic but meaningful, raw and relatable. The character felt like a friend you had known for years.

It was rare that a book could make you feel that way and you greatly admired the author. Your hands itched to underline phrases and annotate paragraphs. Now there it was, right in front of you.

As you reached out to take it, a stranger approached you and grabbed it first. You stared back at him, aghast. It was the last copy on the shelf.

"I got here first," you huffed.

"What's so good about this one?" He asked, scanning the cover. You looked at him with his geled hair and sharp jaw, mischief glinting in his eye. He was cute, it was a shame he was such an asshole.

"You're the one holding the book, you tell me," you bit back, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Answer my question and I'll give it to you," he offered.

"Stop harrassing my customers, Jess!" the owner called out from the counter. "This boy will run me out of business, I swear," she said fondly, giving you an apologetic smile.

"You know I'm your favorite," he replied to her with a charming grin and she waved him off as she turned to greet a new customer, not denying it.

"Well," he said, handing the book to you. You studied the book and frowned.

"The woman called you Jess..." you started, piecing things together.

"That is my name," he nodded.

"What are the odds that you're the Jess Mariano who wrote this book?" your eyes widened a fraction.

He tilted his head, "maybe, depends who's asking."

"This is why you should never meet your heroes," you muttered to yourself, rolling your eyes. "Don't let that get to your head," you warned him as an afterthought.

He raised his hands as if he wouldn't dare. "I'm not usually one to judge someone's life choices, but why me?"

"You know what, I'm asking that very same question myself right now," you brought your fingers to your chin.

He laughed, "and what's your answer?"

"To be determined," you decided. "You should at least buy me a coffee first before asking about my life decisions."

You regretted the words as soon as it left your mouth. "Shit, no. I did not mean to ask you out," heat rose to your cheeks and you wanted to be anywhere else but here.

"Technically, you asked me to ask you out. And you know what? I think it's a great idea. Want to grab a coffee with me?"

You frowned, "you don't even know my name."

He just shrugged, "maybe that's another question you can answer over coffee."

You smiled at his persistence, "you invite all your readers out for coffee?"

"Just the ones who call me their hero."

You winced at his words, "what time do you get off work?"

"As it so happens, I'm due for my lunch break," he said. "I can ring that up for you then we can go, there's a place nearby that serves great coffee."

"I'll have to check my calendar." You considered for a moment and thought of all the questions about the book that you wanted to ask, you could now get answers straight from the source. You tamped down your excitement, you had already embarrassed yourself enough for a day.

"Works for me. You move fast, Jess Mariano," you said nonchalantly as you both moved towards the counter.

"I know what I want, name-to-be-discovered-soon-over-coffee," he said as he finished up and handed you the shopping bag.

You laughed, "you can call me y/n."

"And you can call me your hero. Oh wait, you already did," he teased.

"You'll never let me live that down, won't you?"

"Not until I hear something more interesting over coffee. No pressure," he winked before he moved away for a second to inform the owner he'd be taking his break.

He then returned and reached his hand out to you, "right then, shall we?"

[tiredfox64]

Hellooo! First of all, I love your fics, especially Tomas's. They are very entertaining and the way you write is just great ^^

This is more of a question than a request, although you can develop it further if you want.

How would the linkuei trio react to a s/o who says "I hate men... except you"

It came to me out of nowhere and I thought it was funny 🙃

There Are Exceptions

Prior notes: Hehehe I throughly enjoyed writing this. Also I forgot to say this with other people’s requests who gave me compliments but thank you so much for liking my writing! (*´∀｀*)

Pairing: Lin Kuei Bros x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: Men

Bi-Han

These dim witted, nitwit goobers who serve your husband are too much to handle. All they know how to do is punch and kick. They have no other survival instincts that can save their asses.

It’s so tiring being the one to try to help them with whatever. A woman can only do so much.

You tried teaching them how to sew only for them to say something stupid like it’s a woman’s hobby. Forget about cooking. You have never seen someone screw up scramble eggs so much that it doesn’t even form. How the fuck does it stay watery? And why are you the only one who knows how to fold clothes? Screw steaming out their wrinkles.

Your last straw today came in the nighttime when one of the clansmen came up to you and ask the most stupidest question you have ever heard.

“Uhm, some of the men were telling me that a woman’s period was when she peels her skin every month. Is that true? Cause if it is you hide it well.” This clueless assassin…oh goodness.

You just stared blankly at the young man. It had to be a joke, right? They can’t be that stupid. Actually, you don’t want to know if they are that stupid. You walked away briskly with one thing on your mind and you had to shout it out. The moment you walk into your bedroom you slammed the door shut and screamed,

“I hate men!”

Bi-Han was already in bed, waiting for you to come around. He stared at you with that grumpy expression he always has before folding his arms in front of his chest. A low grumble was being emitted by him.

How can you say you hate men when you are married to one? One that treats you like the queen you are considered you are the grandmaster’s wife. He is also one who pleasures you till you are fully satisfied. Course, it’s more like you have to go on until he is satisfied.

“…except you.”

“Mhm, that’s right. I should be the exception here. I am the grandmaster, I deserve your full respect.” Bi-Han reminded you of his role as if he doesn’t do so every day.

“And you are also my husband,” you walked up to him and placed a kiss on his forehead, “Now would you mind spooning me for tonight.”

“After that outburst, I am unsure if you deserve it.” Now he’s just being petty.

You pouted as you changed into your sleepwear. If Bi-Han looked for at least five seconds he would have caved. But he looked away immediately to prevent himself from changing his decision. You huffed as you slipped into bed. You went on your side and pretended like you didn’t care. You did because you always lost the idgaf war.

“Please, I love you.” You said over your shoulder.

Bi-Han let out a groan before turning over and wrapping his arms around your waist. Haha you win.

You may not like men but you love this man. You like this man because he’s your man.

Kuai Liang

Why does no one think of the logical answer to something?

You go out to the market all the time so you could help feed the Shirai Ryu. It helps lessen responsibilities for your husband. But even this simple task is made difficult and stupid because of some of the venders. More specifically the men.

You asked for watermelon and they hand you plastic containers with the funkiest bits of watermelon. They are discolored and are definitely past their ripeness. Yet they all tell you it’s fine. It’s not fine! It’s not good quality! Why even cut the watermelon in the first place you can do it yourself!

You want some mangos? Well you can’t fucking have any because they don’t got it. Oh what’s that? A BUNCH OF FUCKING MANGOS RIGHT BEHIND THEM! And they tell you that those are honey mangoes you didn’t specifically ask for those. They told you no because they thought you wanted Haden mangoes. Just give the woman a fucking mango!

You’re so over those male venders. They never even help you pack the carts up.

You’re too tired went you get back to the temple. You let everyone else pack the food away without helping out this time. You can’t be bothered. You take your shoes off, step into the temple, and sigh heavily.

“I hate men.” You groaned.

You didn’t realize Kuai Liang was coming up to you to greet you. You looked up and saw his face. He stared blankly with a bit of concern.

“…except you.”

You wanted to make it right so you ran up to him, giving him many kisses and hugging him.

“What has made you so hateful, my love? Did someone at the market bother you?” He asked with concern.

Kuai Liang was not at all mad at what you said. He found it odd which meant there was something wrong. His hands went up to check if maybe it was something physical. He would hate to find out you were hurt while out. What kind of husband would he be if he can’t protect his wife?

“Many people bothered me at the market today. Some people are unfortunate stupid.” You replied.

“Perhaps you can tell me all about it in bed. I’ll make you some tea to help with the stress.” He took your hands as you both walked to the bedroom.

Kuai Liang is the kind of man you need in your life. If only the men at the market had his intelligence. Though you do like being cared for when there is any sign of distress from you. It makes you feel like a princess.

Tomas

To help train the Earthrealm champions is like trying to train a seal, a kangaroo, a bison, and a Komodo dragon to leap at least a meter out of the water. One will succeed, another will jump but not reach it, another one won’t try to jump, and the other will be too busy trying to mate with you.

They are all nice in their own way but Johnny is the worst of them all. You tell him you are happily married and it’s in one ear and out the other. Just because his marriage failed doesn’t mean yours has to.

Kenshi is alright he just has stubborn. He believes it’s nerves that wins fights. If that were true why does he keep failing to you. And when he is not going against you he’s going after Johnny’s throat. You get it, Johnny won’t give back Sento. But now is not the time to bust his ass.

Kung Lao just gets on everyone’s nerves. You have never seen a bunch of monks ready to implode and strangle someone. Don’t forget that you almost lost your head because he flung his hat in the wrong direction. All you got back was a small ‘sorry’ before he took his hat and ran off.

And Raiden…he’s fine. He’s done no wrong.

Yet no matter what you always have to return and help the fools. You give and give and what do you receive? Hell!

You are exhausted when you return home. You don’t talk to anyone you just go straight to your bedroom. You let out a groan the whole time and when the door closes you let that groan become words.

“I hate men.”

Tomas was already waiting for you in the bedroom. He was walking up to you to hug you until he heard those words. He looked concerned and even a little sad.

Well he’s a man, do you hate him? Did he do something wrong? He hopes he didn’t, he doesn’t want an unhappy wife.

Your attitude immediately went away at the sight of Tomas.

“…except you.”

You ran into his arms and hugged him tight. You could never hate a man like Tomas. He is your husband after all. You picked a good one compared to all the other men that you have seen.

“I’m guessing they upset you again.” He asked.

You nodded. The day is already over you don’t feel like talking about every single stupid thing that they did. Tomas understood and hugged you tight.

“Do you want me to beat them up?” He whispered jokingly in your ear.

For once today you laughed. He always manages to bring a smile to your face. You wish you could let him but that would be a bad decision. Though it’s funny to think about. He was just happy to hear that wonderful laugh of yours. It just shows that he’s a good man to you. He can turn a frown upside down and make you see the good in men. Or at least the good in him.

After notes: Can you tell I got pissed off with Kuai Liang’s part? That shits a little too true. Those instacart tik toks be crazy. Here’s a little experience of when I hated men: one didn’t take no for an answer for YEARS. He still can’t take no even from other girls. But most of the men I know are good. Alright enough yip yap I must march on. Adiós!

[deesseshesca]

PAC : What's the wildest sexual experience bound to happen with your s/o ?

Is not because I ain’t takin that I can’t keep up with love

Good afternoon, pretty souls, today we are diving into the sexual destiny of your relationship.

FLASH SALE 

For the next 2 weeks all readings on my ko-fi is 20$, only 

Choose the image that’s speak to you and allow yourself to soak ONLY what’s reasoning with YOUR SITUATION 

Rules and Disclaimer 

I am the type of tarot reader to say as it is. Nothing is sugar coated but everything is sent with good intention. If you are not ready to face some truth, you should vagabond somewhere else. 

MINOR DON'T INTERACT WITH THIS POST 

MINOR DON’T READ THIS POST 

Basing myself on the legal age in my country which is 18

 

PILE 1 

4 cups, Strength, High priestess, Knight wands 

WILD SEX : INVOLVING A THIRD PARTY 

Prostitute, stripper or an unicorn 

Check in : You guys have a very wet cooch. No need for a lube. If you are a man , you know how to move your hips smoothly…hihihi

I’m sorry babe but you’re man/woman ain’t shit. I see you wearing sexy good quality lingerie walking around lather in lotion and perfume and he/she keeping its gaze on the TV. While you are waiting to get into some hardcore sex. If you are a man , I see you walking around in gray sweats, fresh cut and some good cologne. Some of y’all even go as to applying some lip balm but nothing she/he is more preoccupied with their phone. The worst you deserve is all the hype after all the effort you put in. Back then yall used to go round and round, night until sunrise. Now we are getting out off in the shower. He/she can’t bring himself to care. While there are people out here that would kill to be in his/her place. From their perspective y’all need to add another person to bring back the spark. Hey, I am the last one to judge sexual needs but their intention ain’t it. They want the 3 of y’all in a car,fucking. How is that even going to work ? The car is already small for 2 people. The reality is that they don’ t want look at u or even deal with you while y’all fucking. And that right there tells me all I need to know. They don’t care for you any more but they keep you around to satisfy their sick ego. Sorry to announce, he is never going to ask your hand in marriage. If it is a women, she will never accept a long term commitment with you. 

💌Don't listen to one word coming out of their mouth. You got me feeling all the way hot a front of my screen. So damm sure you are the Bomb.com. Anyway if you want more insight regarding you next sexual encounter, you can always message me especially now since my readings are on sale.

Much love, Shesca

FLASH SALE 

For the next 2 weeks all readings on my ko-fi is 20$, only (Link at the end of the post )

PILE 2 

5 cups, 6 cups (reverse), ace wands, 9 pentacles (reverse), ‘’I was hidden my true feeling because I was scared of commitment and did not want to lose my freedom !’’

SHE (FEMININE ENERGY), HIM (MASCULINE) 

Before you go further, know that it doesn't matter about the gender but which energy you embody. Because there is a clear difference in this one. 

You guys already had crazy sex. I don’t even think it is about the kinky level but is more about the overwhelming emotions shared in that intimate moment. I’m talking about your most recent ex, some of y’all (especially women) it was your first relationship. Let’s start from the beginning. He used to send you cheeky pics of him after a workout or a shower. Y’all are not better, out here sending lingerie haul and voice memo. Knowing damn well that your moan drives him crazy. I can’t exactly see how we got into the fucking scenario  but I can see bits of the whole thing. He grabbed your waist and pushed you on the bed. Leaving hickeys on your neck and breast. While nibbling kisses on your stomach and leaving love bites on thighs. Before latching on your clit like a man on a mission. When he finally let himself inside, you were a whimpering mess. I keep hearing: ‘’ You can take it princess. Everything is fine. You know I’m in love with you, right ? You are so gorgeous’’. Plus he gets easily aroused around you. Some of y’all had a place that you were banned from kissing before going. I see 2 clear incidents. One before meeting your parents, y’all make out a bit in his car then y’all have to wait because of boner. Y’all at school just after one kiss, he has to go in the bathroom, to calm down. Because of you he started wearing sweat, yes to please you but most importantly because is his best bet to hide the constant boner he has around u. As of now he still gets off from flashbacks of y’all shared moments. Believe me Pile 2, he did not move on. He let you go because he wanted you to pursue your dream. He doesn't want to be the reason to stop you from  your potential. I’m sensing that y’all work or study abroad at the moment. That’s why he prefers a sad break up with much love rather than a messy one where he might do the ultimate act that he despise : hurting you. 

BONUS

WILD SEX: LOVING DOM

 8 wands, High priestess, Page wands, Magician, ‘’I know you are my soulmate babe ! Our bond is magnetic ! I’m seeing all the signs’’, ‘’ I didn't feel like I was on your level ! You are a boss ! I’m very insecure ! ‘’ 

Lucky you, your guides allow me further more access to your energy. I never getting deeper than I am allowed without having a signal. You guys are going to meet again. Is inevitable. Some he might text you drunk, after his friend tries to keep his phone away from you the whole night. They are love sick. The next first touch,I see an extremely tight hug in the middle of the airport. Him coming with red roses to you. You are jumping in his arms. I see y’all going crazy with each other not even being able to wait to make it in your bedroom. Is not just lust, it is the most intimate discord that your soul has with each other. When y’all having sex. If he did text you and promise you a surprise: is a small vibrator. See clothe flying, your ass up face down on the floor while his pounding into you,  in the kitchen. Some of y’all are not even going to make it until the kitchen, losing your mind in the door hallway. Y’all are going rounds after rounds. The last scene, you are on the bed, missionary position, crying from overstimulation. He is usually assertive but now he’s like an emotional dom. Thrusting in you hard and slow while opening up: ‘’ Don’t you dare cum. You know how much I missed you. You know how hard it was for me … to let… u … go’’

You are barely able to formulate an answer: ‘’ I know, I know, I’m sorry baby …’’ Completely dizzy on orgasm . 

💌Girl, how can you handle all this intensity ! Anyway lucky you, if you need further confirmation regarding your situation, you can always message especially now that my reading are on sale.

FLASH SALE 

For the next 2 weeks all readings on my ko-fi is 20$, only (Link at the end of the post)

PILE 3 

8 cups (reverse), 9 cups, 7 cups (reverse), World, ‘’ I want a second chance ! Not being with you is killing me !’’, ‘’ Telepathic Communication’’ 

WILD SEX : WORSHIPING KINK 

I’M USING ''SHE'' BECAUSE I’M SENSING HEAVY PREGNANCY ENERGY

Check in : Good afternoon to my plus size babes. Some of y’all or only pregnant while others of both. You have a big butt. The stretch marks and cellulite and you love it. You love yourself the way that you are. With the rolls and belly. I am obese with your energy. 

You know who else is obese? Your boo thing. Pile 3, y’all are mean. You just block your fiancé/husband after sending a risky picture. Just because. On a random Thursday morning. He is out here losing his mind in the break room. Trying to understand what he has done to deserve that treatment. Did he forget to put the garbage out ?, did he not walk the pet?, did he forgot to start that diy project in the garden ? or did he forget to get your coffee this morning ? What’s going on ? He  is losing it in the middle of a team meeting. While you are smirking, living the dream life. Y’all look like a regular couple, kids, pets, house in the suburb with 2 garage doors. And your dream car brought by yours truly. They don’t know how freaky y’all are. Sex toys, sexting, latex lingerie and fucking in the walk in closet he build. If necessary, y’all don’t mind calling the babysitter so you can lose it in a hotel room. But y’all favorite experience is a good old missionary. He’s caressing your legs, while looking deep in your soul with nothing but love. While you are forever grateful to have found the one that cherishes you forever

💌Y'all better teach me your ways. You got that on Amazon, Target maybe it was a private sale. Anyway congrats on your pregnancy/engagement and keep the good energy, if you want to dive more into upcoming events regarding your life, you can always message. Especially now that my reading are on sale.

FLASH SALE 

For the next 2 weeks all readings on my ko-fi is 20$, only (Link at the end of post)

[taesanluv3r]

almost twenty

kim woonhak x reader

non-idol woonhak and reader anxiously holding onto their disappearing youth. kind of emotional, esp if youre aged 17-19, might make u cry (i did while writing it) idk. this fic is dedicated to everyone who's worrying so much abt the future (me) it'll get better i promise (telling myself this). lowercase intended. pls ignore any spelling mistakes/grammatical errors. enjoyy

wc: 2,365

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"so...have you heard back from any of the colleges yet?"

her mother's simple question alone was enough to ruin yn ln's whole afternoon. normally, it wouldn't piss her off that much at all, but the fact that she's heard the exact same words come out from the woman's mouth about a billion times this week alone was just the thing to fully pull on her veins. "i told you a million times already, mom!" she shouted, abruptly- and angrily- standing up from her seat at the dining table. "the schools will get back to me in two weeks. i just applied like two days ago! god..."

"...do you ever listen?"

the answer is no. what kind of parents were understanding enough to listen to their teenage daughter? in fact, what kind of adult would ever understand the way their kids, regardless of age, felt? maybe out there somewhere there was a family that were healthy enough to get each other that way. maybe out there somewhere an adult was caring enough to relate a little.

"tsk...yeah right...fat chance"

yn groans as she slumps belly first onto her bed. she turns over to lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. her eyes almost water as they scan her surroundings. the glow-in-the-dark stars that decorated her walls, the baby-pink chair she had out-grown years ago, and the collection of stuffed animals that snuggled comfortably in the very corner of her bed-room; memories of the trajectory of her own life- well, the life she had up until right now, up until this awkward stage between teenage youth and adulthood.

she sighs as she gets up again, her fingers tracing against the gold medals that sat atop the floral wallpaper. she giggles, looking through every old photo inside each frame placed on her shelf. one of little yn holding up three gold medals, little yn with a big toothy grin only half the size of the cotton candy in her tiny hands, a slightly older yn when she had graduated elementary school, and one last image of a smiley middle-school yn, hands happily intertwined with her closest friend, kim woonhak.

the girl stops to stare at all her belongings a little longer. in just two more weeks she'd be hearing back from at least one of the colleges she had applied to. in just two weeks all of these things that surrounded her would be stuffed into a card-board box, somewhere far away from her sight. a sick feeling forms in the pit of her stomach. it's bittersweet. sure, she'd finally be free from the so-called shackles of her parents' constant nagging, finally having a life of her own...but at the same time, yn just couldn't help all the doubts that constantly clouded up her mind, those thoughts that made the sunny days look gloomy through her eyes.

she swears she might just start crying. not that it's anything new, the stress that comes forth from being on the verge of twenty always seemed to push a lever in the tear-making department in her eyes. she's interrupted this time though, by the unnecessarily loud ping of her phone. 'who could possibly be texting me now...'

'woon-not so-agi'

the contact name alone allows a little laugh to escape the girl's lips as she swipes her fingers against the screen to open his message.

where u at?? you aren't flaking on me are u????

his texts confuse her for just a moment, she had no clue what he was talking about.

hellooooo? don't tell me u forgot? we're supposed to meet at the tree remember?? hurry uppppppppp im not waiting long >:(

"shit is it 7pm already?!" without any more fuss, yn rushes to throw on her sweater. she doesn't bother to bid goodbye to her parents before she runs out the door- she's still upset at them, of course. the girl hastily climbs onto her bicycle, her legs pedaling the fastest they ever had. in almost no time, she arrives at the boy's backyard.

"what took you so long?" a male voice calls out from the top of the tree, woonhak's head peaking out from the wooden structure that sat between the branches. yn points a finger up at the air, signaling for him to wait for a second as she catches her breath. she could hear him laugh, followed by the rustling of leaves as a gust of wind flew by. "hurry and get up here" he said impatiently, prompting her to roll her eyes as she began to climb up the wooden ladder.

"finally" the boy said, smiling stupidly as the girl took a seat beside him on the tree-house-like space. it was a flat piece of wood, decorated with acrylic paints and a couple old throw pillows that his dad had installed for them on the tall tree in their backyard. they were about six years old then, just two little kids begging their parents every single day for a 'super ultimate tree-house' to pose as their 'super-spy head-quarters' on their silly playdates, having no clue that their favourite playing spot would hold the same purpose years later in their teens.

"what's up with you?" the boy's voice shakes yn out of the trance she didn't know she was in. "huh?" he laughs again, "you always look like you're about to jump off this tree" woonhak teases, and usually she'd tease back. usually, she'd say something too witty for him to understand, dying of laughter by herself while he sat there confused. that wasn't the case today though, instead, she stayed quiet, only the slightest smile on her lips.

in an instant, his face softened. "hey..." he began, shifting the weight away from his hands to lightly tap at her shoulders. his grip tightened, adding a bit of force to turn her around so they were face to face. "there really is something wrong, isn't there?" yn couldn't bring herself to answer properly, only a whimper of sorts coming out from her mouth- the quietest of noise before that lever inside of her eyes came loose.

"yn...what's wrong?" woonhak asked again, catching her body in his arms when she fell towards him, incasing her in his warmth. "i..." she manages to muster out, her voice muffled from the fabric of his baby-blue sweater. "...i don't know...i just..." once more, the words in her head failed to solidify, all her thoughts coming out as silent cries. he doesn't force her to speak anymore, just holding her tightly, rocking back and forth as if he were comforting a teen-sized baby.

it takes about half an hour for yn to gather herself and her thoughts up again. she had removed herself of woonhak's embrace, sitting straight up beside him. the shadow of their swinging feet moved with the grass below them, the afternoon sky creating a blue-ish tint and painting the scene like a movie. just the right atmosphere for the boy to open his ears up, all for her voice to enter right in.

"i just don't get it. i don't get why they keep pressuring me with all these questions! when are you going to college? you should start packing, have you found a dorm yet? have you found a job yet? when will you get your license? i just...it's just too much- it's like..." she momentarily stops her speech-like dialogue to think of the right adjectives. "like it's all going so fast? like they're rushing you?" woonhak completes the sentences for her, his eyebrows furrowing when she nods in agreement.

"exactly" yn says, bringing one leg up to rest her chin on her knee. "it's just so stressful...i guess i just can't believe it's all happening- i mean..." she picks up her speaking space, perhaps to stop herself from letting the tears take over again. "in two weeks we'll hear from those colleges...then we'll have to move and then start a whole new life and what if we don't end up in the same place? what if we lose contact? what if everything i've lived the past years of my life for..." her voice cracks and she pauses for a moment to look at the boy beside her.

"...what if it doesn't work out? what if it just all goes to waste?"

the water that had begun to well up in her eyes were a clear image in front of him now, only prompting him to start to tear up himself. their gazes lingered on each other for a moment, the vulnerability of it all crashing against the two teenagers like it had fallen straight from the sky.

"i get it" woonhak says, trying his best to stop himself from bawling like a baby- even if it meant breaking eye-contact with the girl and staring all too seriously at the leaves above him. "ah, being our age is so hard!" he yells this time, falling backwards to lay down on the wooden surface. his hands slapped over his face, the mere thought of the pair's coming adulthood far too frustrating for him. his slight temper-tantrum made her smile for the first time that afternoon- i mean, fully smile.

something about the boy's childish nature comforted her. like despite all these worries and all the stress about their coming twenties, whenever they were together they still had that little bit of youth to grab onto.

"hey...you're smiling again" she nods at his observation, moving to lay down on her back right next to him. yn lets out a sigh, watching as a flock of birds migrated over the skies above them. "yn?" woonhak calls out and the girl hums in response, turning her head over to face him. the boy's eyes are shiny and bright, despite the fact that the sun was long gone. she's confused when he moves to sit up again, but never breaking eye-contact.

"can you promise me something?"

she sits up with him now, nodding along with his words. "promise what?" her words are quick, like she didn't have any more time left in the world. "that when we're away in college, even if we get too busy with whatever twenty year olds do, even if we barely have any time on our hands anymore..." his voice starts to shake, eyes begin to water all over again. "promise me we'll never lose contact. promise me we'll still talk every chance we get? please?" the weakness displayed on his face, a kind of look she had never ever seen on the boy before this very moment. he fully expected her to cry as well, to breakdown into tears as they hugged for the rest of the night. she didn't though, instead the girl broke into a small fit of laughter.

"what...why are you laughing?!" a massive frown decorated his complexion, tears streaming down both sides of his face. "oh, woonhak..." yn says, a smile on her lips as her hands moved up to cup his cheeks, beginning to wipe away his tears. "you're so stupid..." the boy furrows his eyebrows, "you can't seriously be bullying me in the middle of this right now-" he's cut off when her pointer finger presses against his mouth. "no, you idiot. i'm just saying you're so stupid if you think i'd ever be able to survive my twenties without texting and calling you every chance i get!"

his mouth opens to form an 'O' shape. she lets out a giggle and his own one follows. yn lets out a deep breath, "i'd be way too lonely without you, woonhak" the boy smiles, "yeah, you've got like no other friends anyways- ow!" he exclaims, rubbing the spot on his shoulder she had slapped. "meanie" her baby-like language only makes him roll his eyes, "how are you almost twenty and still calling people meanie?" yn pouts, crossing her arms over her chest. "i only call you that...and only cause its the truth!" woonhak laughs once more before suddenly pulling her into his chest, she squeals at the sudden force sending them to lay down flat on the tree-house structure again.

they stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms under the shade of their comfort place. "i wish we could stay almost-twenty forever..." yn says through a sigh. woonhak nods, a hand stroking through her hair. "yeah...i wish time froze at age nineteen or something...like at nineteen point nine nine" her eyebrows knit together, "nineteen point nine nine?" he nods again, "yeah, like the ultimate teenager" the girl laughs, hiding her face against his side.

"you're an idiot, you know that?" - "but where would you be without me, yn?" she agrees with him, "you're right...life would be so terrible without you- even if you're the dumbest person i know..." he rolls his eyes. "hey, yn?" - "yeah?"

"you know...later if we're away from each other, please call me. call me all the time. call me if you're bored, call me if you're happy, call me when you're sad, when you're stressed, and please..." the boy trails off, sitting up again and grabbing the girl's hands to pull her up with him. he stared deeply into her eyes, and she did the same as she bit on her bottom lip.

"please call me if you're lonely...promise?"

she nods quickly, "of course. i promise" the pair melt into each other as they hugged once more, the blue sky had darkened and the bright moon watched over them from the cracks between the branches of the tree. "thank you..." kim woonhak says, separating from her grasp. "for what?" yn ln wonders, tilting her head off to the side in confusion.

"for spending the rest of our youth with me"

just like that, yn's worries and all her anxiety flew out the window. in a time like this one, when it feels like their teenage years are disappearing far too quickly, when no one around them seemed to understand, when they've become all too sensitive to the concept of change...at least they've got each other to seek comfort. an everlasting youth whenever it was just the two of them. as though time had frozen and they were stuck in the in-between...

at 19.99.

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

aaa i cried while writing and proofreading this TT 19.99 coming out the same time ive been the most stressed abt future-related stuff, the album is so amazing and relatable! its very precious to me, dont forget to stream!! ily bonedo, ily woonhak, ily readers! here's to growing up together <3 tysm for reading. love, kona.

[lovelywritinglady]

Crocodile Tears pt.1

Crocodile xfem!reader

In which you and your husband,Crocodile, get into an argument and it spirals out of control.

Heavy angst, hurt with no comfort, usage of bitch, Set a little before Alabasta. Could be split into more parts if requested.

You were so tired of being put last. Nearly a decade spent with this man. All of the work you put into this relationship. All of the broken promises. All of the times he was late or completely forgot about your plans together. Normally you’re a very patient woman and had always been sympathetic of your husbands time. But not today. Too many damn anniversaries missed and you were now fed up. You decided to confront your husband on his bullshit and demand a solid reason for being late to your own anniversary dinner that you had spent hours perfecting.

You walked straight into his office that was located in the basement of your shared casino. You didn’t bother knocking as whatever he was doing was no where near as important as him missing your anniversary dinner. His head shot up at the sound of someone barging in. Crocodile gave confused and angry look before softening it ever so slightly at the sight of you. He sighed looking at you as you’d told before him. He could tell that whatever you were mad about was completely his fault.

“Yes my dear?” He asked giving very little of his attention as he continued writing on his documents.

“You know why I’m here.” You spat crossing your arms.

“What is it now?” He sighed

“Don’t you know what day it is?” You questioned harshly tired of his forgetfulness.

“No idea, but I’m very busy right now, I’ll deal with you later.” Crocodile bit back now giving you attention.

“It’s our fucking anniversary!” You yelled as frustrated tears rolled down your cheeks.

“I’ll make it up to you later. Right now I’m in the middle of something important. You can damn well wait.” He snapped slamming his hand down.

“Am I really not that important to you?” You cried as your body trembled.

“No, you’re not! Now I’ll deal with you later!” He yelled

“No fuck that, why am I not important to you? After all I’ve done. I love you why can’t you ever prioritize me!” You exclaimed balling your fists to your sides.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a nagging bitch, maybe I would. Now leave I have more important things to do then bitch with you. Get out!” He furiously yelled standing up out of his chair as he gave you a look of pure hatred.

You stood there trembling in fear as your tears stopped as your hands were now shaking. Crocodile noticed the look of fear in your eyes but was too mad at you to even care. You couldn’t move, however, a hand touched your shoulder. You moved with it still too stunned to react as it led you out of your husbands office and into the long carpeted hallway and then into the Casino that was owned by both you and your husband. Soon enough, you were outside and now were alone as the figure left you alone in the dark

You looked out into the pitch black sky as you came back to your senses. A furious son left your body as you sunk to your knees. You cried and cried until your body felt numb and your eyes felt raw from the salty tears that left them. You then hugged your now cold body as your rocked yourself trying to give yourself some comfort. After a few more moments, you slowly picked yourself up off the ground and walked to the shared home that you and crocodile lived in together that was about a five minute walk from the Casino.

There you grabbed the first suitcase that you could get your hands on and filled it with as much of your personal belongings as you could fit not caring too much about your fancy clothes and trinkets. Once you were done, you took a good look at the outfit that you were still wearing and promptly took it off and replaced it with more comfortable clothes.

You had no pleads of what to do but you knew you needed to leave. Too long had Crocodile forgotten about your needs. Too long had he put you last. Too long have you stayed with someone that didn’t love you the way you loved them. Too long had you given him everything while he gave you nothing. You were done and tired of his half assed apologies and broken promises. So, you made a phone call to the harbor. The transponder snail ring for a while and you were scared that because of the hour, they wouldn’t pick up.

“Yes, hello miss how may I help you?” The transponder snail finally spoke.

“Yes, hi, I’d like to book at ticket to the first ship that will go to Dressrosa.

“Dressrosa? Well you’ll have to take multiple ships to go there but we can get you on a ship that will take you to the next available island that has a ship that goes there. Is that alright?” The teller spoke

“Yes that should be fine.” You spoke doing your best to sound normal as your voice was still sore from crying. “When is the first available ship?” You asked

“At 6 in the morning.” They responded

“I’ll take it.” You replied quickly.

“Alrighty, I’ll see you then. I’d like to let you know that it’s firsts come first serve here so be sure to arrive early to get a good seat.” They told you kindly.

“Thank you, have a good night.” You said

“I will, you too miss.” They responded

And with that you hung up the transponder snail. You signed hanging you head before standing up straight and focusing on the task at hand. You decided to go into the shared safe that you and your husband had in your room and put as much cash as you could in your suitcase and one of the purses that you decided to take. It was a lot and you just hopped that you wouldn’t be robbed as that money would help you with the next step in your life. You then grabbed a piece of paper from your side table drawer and a blue inked pen and wrote a small good bye letter to Crocodile.

My dear husband,

You might not care about any of this but I need to let you know my feelings.

I love you and even as I write this letter I love you. And despite my burning love for you, I cannot stay in this loveless marriage any longer. You have proven time and time again that I am not an important aspect of your life and I’d rather leave than be a hindrance to you or the empire you are trying to build.

With all my love,

Y/n L/n

Once you were done and with your suitcase in hand you walked all the way to the harbor. When you arrived you promptly purchased a ticket not caring about where you sat. As you walked onto the boat, you looked back at the vast desert that you once called home smiling bitterly at the events of last night.

“The ship is now departing. I repeat the ship is now departing.” A voice called out

“Goodbye my darling.” You whispered into the wind as the ship left the harbor.

Meanwhile…

“Where the hell is she!” Crocodile yelled in a furious rage as he walked into your shared bedroom some of the maids were cleaning.

“Sorry sir, we were asleep when the mistress came in.” One of the maids spoke meekly as she was scared of Crocodile.

“Daz, find her!” Crocodile barked

“Yes sir.” Daz Bones responded as he immediately left to find you.

Crocodile was furious, confused, and guilty. He knew he fucked up. He was so stressed about all of the work that had to be done and the news about a bunch of rookie pirates finding out his identity that he snapped and completely disregarded your anniversary. His mind was scrambled and his heart was aching for his sweet wife who now is nowhere to be seen.

“Umm… Sir.” Another maid spoke quietly

“What!” He snapped looking at her with pure fury.

“Sorry sir but we found this on the side table.” She spoke quickly handing him your letter.

He read it silently as he took in each word and sentence that you had written out just for him to read. His heart broke but the sudden realization of how much of a shitty husband dawned on him. And unfortunately for him, too late. Now you were gone, his sweet wife, his love.

“I’ll find you y/n.” He whispered before waking out of your shared bedroom determined to find you no matter the cost.

Thank you so much for reading!💜

Please feel free to like, comment, request, and reblog

Click here to see what I’m write for and HERE for my master list.

• I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

-L.W.L

Part 1 Part 2

[mikedfaist]

can we get more pregnant!reader??? like when she’s actually going into labor and he takes her to the hospital? supportive sweetie mike is my favorite

Mike took the classes. He read the books. He sought insight from his friends who have already ventured down this path before. The hospital bag was ready. The nursery was complete – alongside a crib he did indeed decide to build. He was ready for fatherhood. Frankly, he welcomed it with open arms. He already loved his little girl so much that he couldn’t imagine that love growing anymore than it already is. How is that even possible?

When those first real contractions hit in the middle of the night – much different than the “practice” ones from before – your first instinct isn’t to wake up Mike. No, you let him sleep. You scamper into the kitchen, lay down on the couch and turn on Modern Family. They weren’t far enough apart yet. No point in going to the hospital. No point in waking up your boyfriend. Until your water breaks, you are going to relax as much as you can until the pain permeates to the point of surrender.

You don’t have to wake him up though, because that boy senses your absent presence, and goes looking for you. It wasn’t unusual to find you in the kitchen in the middle of the night; when a craving calls, it calls. This time though, he caught you in the middle of a contraction. Not unbearable – you were even able to talk through it, but he saw it in your eyes. Less than a minute, and it was over.

When you told him you’ve been having contractions for the last hour, you might as well have told him you joined a cult.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He was aghast.

“There’s no point right now! Can’t even go to the hospital. This could last for hours, Michael. Hours. Maybe in the morning something worth telling you about will happen.” You didn’t mean it in a bad way. Obviously, anything that happens in this pregnancy he wants to know about. To you, this was nothing. If the contractions weren’t five minutes apart, then why bother? “Go back to sleep, okay? Get your rest while you can.”

“You really think I can just go back to sleep when you’re in labor?”

“Early labor, it barely counts.”

“It does count.”

“When my water breaks, then I’ll bother you with my problems. But for now, I’m chillin’.”

By morning, seven hours later, things had progressed enough for you to roll over onto your side and shake your boyfriend awake.

“It fucking hurts.”

“It’s just early labor, babe, it barely counts.”

“I will break up with you—do not test me right now.”

It wasn’t until the afternoon when your water broke in the middle of the kitchen as he was making you grilled cheese. (You made him finish the grilled cheese before leaving). Once at the hospital, he fed you ice chips, massaged your back, kissed your forehead, and let you fracture each of his fingers. He did nearly pass out when you got your epidural, and again when you did eventually give birth. His excuse was he had forgotten to eat because he was so focused on you, but you remember how white he got watching a real birth video in preparation for this moment.

Once you begin pushing, he’s beside you, brushing the hair out of your face, letting you squeeze his hand until it’s purple. He’s so gentle with his encouragements, whispering it in your ear and kissing your temple. He can’t put into words how amazed he is with you in this moment. He thought he loved you before, but that love has grown exponentially. You not only grew and protected their child, but you were putting yourself through hell to bring her into this world. It’s something he’ll never know firsthand, and he knows he’ll never be able to look at you the same way from now on. You really were the most incredible woman he has ever had the pleasure of knowing.

When they hear that first cry, he nearly breaks into sobs. All those months of waiting, and being very impatient about it, have finally come to an end, and his baby girl is right there. She’s so tiny—how is she so tiny? How is she so tiny but expelling a cry so loud and raucous?

“She has a set of lungs on her, for sure.”

When they set her on your chest, she instantly quietens. She knows that’s her momma. Mike has to cover his mouth to control his cries. None of the books taught him how to handle the moment he meets his baby girl for the first time. He leans over and caresses his finger over her hand—holy fuck it’s so tiny! Instinctively, she grabs his finger, and refuses to let go. There’s nothing quite as strong as a baby’s grip.

He loses count of how many times he tells you he loves you. A million times wouldn’t even be enough.

[talaok]

I don't know if you're taking requests but I'd like to make one if that's ok for you, one where Pedro was the reader's first man, in the sexual sense, and the second time they're going to do it (maybe in the shower please?😁) he is still careful and respectful, asking if everything is ok, if she feels good, very cute with the reader... that's so him

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

Warnings: allusion to smut and virginity loss

It took a lot of courage for you to admit it.

A woman of your age who hadn't lost her virginity yet wasn't something you saw every day, and you felt... well frankly you were a little ashamed of it.

It's not like men hadn't tried, You'd had boyfriends, and you had your fair share of fun, but there was always something stopping you the moment things started... heating up.

The truth was that if you were gonna have sex, you wanted it to be with the right person, a person you fully trusted and who you knew would take care of you, which, unfortunately for you, turned out to be very hard to find.

Until now, that was.

You knew Pedro was the right one the moment you met him. And I don't only mean about the sex, no, he was the right one, the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

So naturally, at one point you had to confess your "inexperience" to him, and although you knew he was gonna be nice about it, you didn't expect him to be that nice.

He had been incredibly kind and supportive, promising you over and over that there was nothing wrong with it and that he didn't mind having to wait, because as he put it He'd wait his whole life if that's what you wanted

So then a few weeks later, when you finally told him you were ready, he had made love to you like you had imagined your whole life your first time would be, filled with kisses and sweet nothings, and of course, love.

And now... well now that you had gotten a taste of it, you had found out you liked it, a lot.

It was only the morning after, but you were in the shower together, and his lips were so soft against your own, and the water was so warm, and his body felt so good against your own as he helped you wash away the evidence of last night's activities...

"Baby" you murmured, your breathing heavier already

"Yeah sweetheart?" he asked, kissing your neck.

"I think-" you bit your lip, kind of anxious to end the sentence

"What?" 

"I think I wanna do it again"

He arched a brow in surprise.

"You sure?"

"mh-mh" you nodded

"you know angel, if you're saying that just cause you think I want to-"

"no" you stopped him "No baby, I- I really want to do it" 

"oh" he couldn't help but smile a little as his thumb started stroking your cheek "Then let's get you to bed" 

"Can't we..." you wondered aloud, "can't we do it here?"

"In the shower?"

"Yeah"

"You sure sweetheart? I don't want you to be uncomfortable"

"I wanna try"

"Yeah?" he smiled, his big brown eyes boring into yours to try and find any trace of uncertainty, and coming up empty.

"mh-mh" you nodded

"All right then" he smirked "Whatever my pretty lady wants" 

He kissed you sweetly then, backing you up against the wall behind you, and your heartbeat was already racing.

"ok" he breathed, looking at you like you were the most precious thing on this earth "So like last time I want you to tell me everything Ok? If something doesn't feel good, you tell me, if you're starting to get uncomfortable, you tell me, if you changed your mind and don't wanna do this anymore, you tell me." he spoke "I want you to enjoy this, alright?"

"yes" you nodded

"Good" he smiled "Now c'mere"