#don’t even read this it’s not worth it
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exhausted-archivist · 2 days ago
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This is the banter about his going rates that I referenced in another post, and I see the comments and tags. I cannot tell you how much this isn’t him being a nepo baby or the “how much could it cost” meme.
Shoving the rest under the cut because I get the joke here but I need to yell about this man.
tldr: This isn’t dialogue about Lucanis being out of touch, and not knowing what money is worth. He knows, he’s a union man. This dialogue is about Lucanis learning about Harding’s values and priorities. He was worried he was low balling Harding. The tone in this dialogue throws him because what Harding says could easily be taken as “six thousand is only this much and I deserve more compensation.” Hence why he offered to negotiate with her and also why he clarified that the comparison was good.
Now for me yelling about this man:
Lucanis is a union man. Lucanis thinks everyone should be paid fairly, equally, and the market rate. He tells Neve to unionize with the other detectives to make sure she is being compensated fairly (to make sure they all are tbh) and that no one is underpricing themselves. If they are, they’re a scab.
He tells Bellara the Veil Jumpers are providing a service and risking their lives - they should be fairly and properly compensated. They should not only unionize but charge for their services.
Now there is something to say about capitalism and such, but Lucanis is vouching for this stuff because at the end of the day money is important in Thedas. With money you can buy the supplies you need. With money you can make more impactful change, bribe people with lesser morals, provide for people who need it. Cover funerary costs, compensate the families of those who died who maybe the person working for/with you was the only money earner. With money, you can choose to help on jobs that don’t pay at all because you have the comfort of knowing you have other work to cover things.
Lucanis isn’t asking Harding if that’s good because he doesn’t understand the value of what he’s offering. He’s asking Harding if it’s good to understand what her value of it is. Money is after all just a social contract of a universally agreed to system to value the more abstract concepts of value (and even then it fails at times). For all he knows she could have been presenting those examples to show he is lowballing her.
This man is offering to negotiate with her, but her words and tone throw him so he’s not sure if she is happy with the offer or offended.
Lucanis isn’t a nepo baby who thinks 10 dollars for a banana isn’t a lot. Illiaro is the nepo baby. Lucanis was born into wealth but he knows the value of it and works hard to not only earn it but also maintain it. This man has standards, he wants the best because he can afford it so he will not accept anything less than his expensive, luxury Orlesian peaches.
Lucanis doesn’t value goats or a barn the same way Harding does. For her there is personal attachment and sentimentality (see where money fails to properly put a value on something). He knows their monetary worth of those things but he would not be pleased or excited to be paid in a herd of goats (unless perhaps if they were Ayesleigh gulabi goat). But Harding does value those things. Those things have more meaning to her than their value in gold, that’s home. That’s stability. That’s purpose and security. Giving books to the whole village? That’s enriching lives, that teaching people to read. That is uplifting people.
If you asked Lucanis to list off what 6k gold could get him? You’d see his values are different, it would be coffee, luxury food ingredients, wyvern memorabilia, daggers.
Anyways, this isn’t my blorbo but he’s the blorbo of friends I have and man is up there with Cullen, Davrin, and others. Just rotating in my brain space because people I care about like him.
Also this makes me wonder how much the Inquisition was paying Harding and if Lucanis is going to provide her with one of his lawyers like he did for Neve and Bellara.
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I've seen Lucanis' family villa so I knew he was rich, but this banter made me realize that he's a rich boy who has no idea what money is worth lmao.
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ha-rinrin · 3 days ago
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Holding On
WARNING: This definitely counts as spoiler for act 3.
Summary: Jinx thinks she too far gone, but you think exactly the opposite.
Pairing: Jinx x fem!reader
Wordcount: 829
Authors note: I decided to cope with writing so I'm back guys :)
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The air was thick with tension, the faint hum of the explosives making everything feel heavier. Jinx stood in the center of the room, her body trembling with the weight of her thoughts. The bomb was in her hands—its cruel, ticking countdown echoing through her head, matching the frantic pace of her heartbeat.
She looked at the device, her eyes wild with something darker than madness. Her fingers were just inches away from pulling the trigger. The detonator. The end. She could feel it. The destruction. The chaos.
But there was something else too. Something so faint, you almost missed it—a desperation that even Jinx couldn't hide.
You didn’t know how you got here, only that you had to get to her before it was too late. Your heart pounded in your chest as you rushed into the room, your eyes locking onto her figure.
"Jinx!" you called, your voice strong, breaking through the sound of the countdown. She didn't look up. Not at first.
"Don't even think about it," you said, your voice sharper now, cutting through the tense silence that had surrounded her. You knew you were running out of time.
Her head snapped up, her eyes filled with something you couldn't read, a whirlwind of anger, pain, and confusion. The bomb was still in her hands, her fingers trembling, but she didn’t move.
"You think you can stop me?" she whispered, her voice hoarse, raw. "You think I care?"
You took a step closer, your hands raised in a gesture of caution, but your resolve was unwavering. "I care, Jinx. I care more than you know. But this… this isn't you."
Her lips curled into a bitter smile, but her eyes betrayed her. They were glassy, unfocused. "Who else am I supposed to be, huh?" The words were jagged, broken, just like her. "I’ve lost everyone. I don’t even know who I am anymore."
"You're Jinx," you said, your voice softening as you took another step forward. "You're the girl I… I can’t lose, not like this." You swallowed, your heart aching with every word you spoke. "Please, put the bomb down."
For a long moment, she just stood there, her face unreadable, as though trying to make sense of the chaos in her mind. Then she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, but you heard it clearly.
"You’ve been the best girlfriend… the best person in my life. You know that, right?" Her hand trembled, but she didn't pull away. Her eyes didn’t meet yours as she spoke, but you could see the hint of something breaking in her gaze. "I’m sorry… but I don't think I can keep going like this. I don't know how much more of me you can take."
"Jinx, no…" you breathed, stepping closer, your heart pounding as the weight of her words hit you.
"You deserve someone who can be whole," she continued, her voice cracking, the words spilling out before she could stop them. "You deserve someone who can… stay. I don’t even know who I am anymore. But you—" She stopped, shaking her head, a faint laugh escaping her lips, bitter and broken. "You were everything. Thank you. Thank you for everything."
"Don’t you dare," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Don’t you dare say goodbye. Not like this."
Her hand tightened on the detonator again, her fingers almost convulsing, but she was silent, the look in her eyes telling you more than any words could.
You couldn’t let her go, not like this.
“Please, Jinx,” you whispered desperately, your voice barely audible. "I need you. I love you. I can’t lose you. You don’t have to do this. You’re worth so much more than all of this. We’ll figure it out together. Please."
She looked at you then, her lips trembling, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. The bomb in her hand felt like nothing compared to the weight of the emotion that filled the room. She slowly lowered the detonator, her hands shaking as she clutched it loosely, a faint tremble passing through her.
"I'm too far gone," she said, barely above a whisper, her voice breaking. "But maybe... maybe I still have something left. I can't leave you alone"
You reached for her then, slowly, gently. She didn't flinch as you took her hand in yours, her fingers cold but now gripping you back, even if just a little.
"I can't let you go," you said softly, your voice trembling but firm. "Please... don't leave me like this."
For the first time in what felt like forever, she let herself lean against you, her body trembling. The bomb was still in her hand, but she wasn’t holding onto it anymore.
"I don't deserve you," she whispered, her voice barely a breath.
And for once, there was no chaos. Just the fragile thread of connection between you, something both of you clung to as if it could mend the broken pieces. "You deserve everything," you murmured, your voice steady and sure. "And I’ll be here to remind you of that, every step of the way."
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chithereader · 1 day ago
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playing it cool / aaron hotchner
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[credits to the owners of these photos!!]
word count: 1.9k
pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader
genre: fluff!!!!!!
cw: sickeningly sweet and soft aaron x reader, so much of aaron’s thoughts because we know that man thinks soo much more than he speaks!!
a/n: hiiii this is my third post so far and tbh i was so nervous to post the first two as that was my first time ever posting any of my writings anywhere!! but i’ve been getting so much more love on those than expected and i just really wanted to say thank you so much for all the likes and reblogs <33 i was honestly only expecting less than 10 notes as a newbie and reaching up to 200 is so so so wonderful. and especially for the love of hotch i– ugh!!!!! i already love u all 
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The team had worked a straight 5 weeks worth of cases prior, which had warranted Strauss to grant them all a mandatory 3-day rest. This simply meant that for 3 whole days there are no cases, no deadlines, and no new case files. They could come to the office at whatever time they’d like as long as they finished some reports at the end of the day. 
Aaron being Hotch the boss man still aimed to arrive at the office at a reasonable time– 7:30am. To be fair, this is an hour and a half later than when he usually arrives at the office. And in his mind, the earlier he arrives, the more he can get done, and the more he gets done, the earlier he can come home. 
This is the only reason why he is up at 6:00am on a supposed rest day. He did expect that he’d struggle a bit more to drag himself out of bed, knowing you’d be keeping him hostage with limbs that wrap around him in ways he can’t begin to understand, but to his surprise, you weren’t there. 
Dragging his feet across the carpeted floor, his pajama pants hanging low on his hips and white shirt fitting him oh-so-snugly, he tries to find you. He’s rubbing the sleep of his eyes as he peeks his head into your shared bathroom. No sign of you. 
He’s covering his mouth as he yawns when he quietly opens the door to Jack’s bedroom–still no sign of you. Remembering his son has been nursing a stomach bug since yesterday, he opened the door further to check on him. No fever. No chills. No sign of discomfort. 
When he’s sure Jack’s okay, he turns around to go back to find where you went. He even checked the backyard as he passed by a window to see if you’re at your favorite swing reading, that perhaps you just woke up early and wanted to feel the morning sun because you claimed it lightens you. 
He smiles a little to himself as he treads downstairs, finally hearing your soft murmurs as you spoke with someone presumably over the phone. As he neared the kitchen he realized that the person on the line was your colleague and friend Tilly, and that she was on speaker phone making it easy to listen in. 
He slows down his steps as he nears the landing and pauses when he gets behind a wall near the kitchen. He doesn’t know what came over him. He doesn’t usually sneak around to eavesdrop, nor did he ever feel the need to especially when it came to you. You tell him everything, prompted and unprompted. 
But perhaps it was the haze of the morning or the curiosity of what could possibly get you out of bed this early when you’re usually the one snoozing away as he’s getting ready for work– he stayed quiet behind that wall and made it his mission to understand the conversation. 
He clears his mind and strains his ear, going as far as making his breaths slow and far apart. 
He hears Tilly giggling, “Don’t get me wrong, Adam from Finance is really cute but.. isn’t he just a little too serious? He’s always got that frown going on.” 
You sigh a little loudly, obvious that it’s a sigh to humor and not of exasperation, “Tilly, you know I love you, but every day you complain about being single. And every other day there’s a decent guy who you always always find that one flaw in that just crosses them off for you forever.” Tilly lets out a sound that’s a mixture of a laugh and a gasp. 
“That is so not tr–” “Oh, Hugh’s just too clean. And Frederick’s too hard, it’s like- scary. Yes, veiny hands are hot but there’s veiny and too veiny, and Jason was just a double too veiny.” 
Aaron momentarily pauses his listening and looks down at his hands, suddenly conscious where he fit in that category. Factoring in his age, his work, and the action he gets from the field– these all show. He tried thinking of a time you could’ve shown any dislike or disgust towards his hands but all he could think of was that one night when he cupped your face and you leaned towards it more, turning slightly to take his thumb into your mou–
He’s shaken out of his thoughts when he hears Tilly asking about you leaving, “What time are you getting to the office by the way? I just don’t want to get there without you. Adam might ask about that second date and I just need you as my bluff, my beautiful girl.” He makes a mental note to message Jessica before you both get ready for work. 
“Riiiight. Remind me how many guys have I scared off for you now? And how many times have I helped you scare them off? Besides, I can’t go today and I’ve already told Bobby I’m on leave.” 
In a slight surprise and panic Tilly whines, “What?! Why? You’re such a traitor. You know damn well I get so bored without you.” Aaron didn’t even know you were planning on staying home. You hadn’t mentioned anything about it last night which made him even more curious what made you decide. 
He hears your soft laugh, “Don’t be so dramatic. You’ll manage a day without me. I mean you have to– my son caught a stomach bug yesterday so I just want to make sure he’ll recover completely.” 
Aaron can hear Tilly responding, something about soup and warm baths, but his heart has just stopped so he’s not really processing any new words at the moment. 
My son. My son. My son. My son caught a stomach bug. 
He feels lightheaded. His heart kickstarts again, his pulse is ringing in his ear. He can feel his chest pounding to his heart’s beat. The words that rolled off your lips so effortlessly, so mindlessly, echoes in his head. 
Jack may be young but he is smart. So so smart beyond his years. And he has grown to understand what had happened to his mom Haley, but not once has he– and even you allowed Jack to forget who Haley is and how much she loves him. 
Images of you joining in their traditions of honoring and remembering Haley plays in his head in flashes. You helping Jack arrange a bouquet for Haley’s death anniversary. You helping Jack make a card for her birthday. You mixing the paint to get the right shades as Jack paints a portrait of Haley for his Mothers’ Day homework. 
Aaron had told you everything there was to know about Haley and you’ve listened. He knows you adore her. You adore her for the same reasons he adored her. You understood the space Haley had in his life and in Jack’s life, and not once were you ever jealous, immature, or selfish about it. Even though he would’ve completely understood if you were. 
You were nothing but supportive, and understanding, and loving. Even when he didn’t deserve it. Even when you deserved better. Admittedly, there was a point in time when he struggled with coming to terms with falling in love– with you nonetheless. You’re young, ambitious, brilliant, talented, insanely beautiful, and unfairly kind. 
When the two of you had met, this was his profile: divorced with a kid, recovering from trauma that stemmed from being stabbed multiple times in his own home, emotionally unavailable, annoyingly serious and fatally dull– which really makes him wonder what made you fall in love with him in the first place, and even more so what made you stay even when he was bafflingly dense about how you felt about him.  
He didn’t know how long he was standing there, like a deer caught in headlights. Replaying your words and his memories over and over again, slowly coming to the conclusion that you’re absolutely perfect and he’s absolutely gone for you. 
Slowly coming to his senses, Aaron becomes more aware of the silence. The call must have ended while he was having realizations about things. He rounds the corner silently, getting a feel of where you’re facing. Luckily he guesses right, that you’re facing away from him. 
You were rummaging through the fridge– the vegetable drawer if he had to guess, judging by how much you’re slouching and reaching, and the sound of the glass containers you use to prolong their freshness. 
He quickly surveys the scene- your phone is on the counter, beside it is a chopping board with carrots and onions, a carton of chicken broth, Jack’s favorite dinosaur-shaped pasta, and chocolate milk– the one drink you both know can make Jack feel instantly better, happier. 
His heart pinches again. You got up early to make sure Jack had something to eat for breakfast in time for his medicine. You got up early even though you aren’t planning on going to work. You aren’t going to work because you want to stay with Jack. You called Jack your son. 
With so many things running in his head, he stands quietly observing you finding god knows whatever vegetable. Maybe it's the intensity of his stare or the volume of his thoughts, or maybe he started to breathe loudly– but suddenly you knew he was there. He could tell. 
You slowly straightened your back from when you were leaning. Your hands have stopped rummaging through the drawer, and he could see the goosebumps on your legs and shoulders from the way the sunlight hits you through the kitchen window. 
You turn around slowly, as if you were just caught doing something you aren’t supposed to be doing, “I’m so sorry, did I wake you?” grimacing as if it was a crime to be hot and cute and gut-wrenchingly-sweet. 
“No.” His voice is groggy. Deep and rough given that he just woke up minutes ago and hasn’t really used it since. Looking at you through studying eyes, he clears his throat “Uhm, I woke up to get ready for work and you weren’t there.” 
Aaron suddenly feels a little cold. The thin material of his shirt and pajamas doing little to contain what warmth he has left in his body. Or maybe it’s you, maybe his body has sensed that you’re near and is now craving your warmth, making him feel a magnified amount of its absence.
“Oh.. I’m sorry I just wanted to get ahead of cooking so Jack can have soup before he takes his medicine at 8 and since I was also planning to do some work though I’m on leave, it just made sense to get an early start…” You slow your words, noticing how Hotch is studying you tenfold in the moment, as if you were an apparition, “Are you okay? Did you want soup too? I can pack you some before you go?”
His silence makes you panic a little. You can’t really tell if he’s upset about something or if he’s sleepwalking, “Or you can eat here. I mean– you live here, of course you can eat here. I mean like instead of bringing it to the office– not that if you eat here, you can’t bring some anymore.” 
The longer he stays silent, adoring you, the more you scramble to fill the silence, “I’m just– you know you can do whatever you want. You can eat here, there, anywhere. Unless you don’t want soup. I mean we still have leftover steak, I cou–” 
You pause your rambling because you can see a smile starting to form on his face. A real, big smile. Laugh lines and dimples and all, which makes you smile. Realizing how stupid you were sounding and how funny the situation was becoming, you started giggling.
And just as you think he’s about to join the laughter to make fun of you, his smile softens and he says, “Marry me.” 
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magics-neptunes-things · 1 day ago
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Survivor
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Hi guys!
This is a new part of the serie "Lia and the Firefighter", from a request that you can find here :)
Please enjoy ♥
TW : Fire, firefighter, injury, smoke, explosion.
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“Can you stop looking at each other like this?”
Katie talks just before rolling her eyes, looking at Lia and you. You were sitting around a big table in one of the Café loved by the team. You weren’t even talking to each other, to be honest. You moved your chair as close as Lia’s one, being a little behind her because of how many you were.
You like it that way though, like this you were able to pass an arm around her waist and kiss her cheek how many times you want without being seen by anyone. Well, unless Katie as it looks like.
“Don’t be jealous because Caitlin doesn’t look at you like this” you tease her back.
You see her arching an eyebrow, looking angry, but you also saw the corner of her lips tremble when she masked an amused smile.
“Don’t drag me to this” Caitlin, sitting next to Katie, smirks.
“Be nice, Pookie” Lia says to you, pinching softly your hip.
“Sorry”
You smile at Lia, flipping off Katie discreetly while kissing Lia’s cheek one more time.
“Yeah, be nice Pookie” you hear Katie mocking.
This is before hearing a sound that can only be a slap behind the head, followed by a growl of pain. No doubt, Caitlin asked her own girlfriend to stop teasing, in her own way.
Next to you, the others aren’t really paying much attention to you. Beth took Myle with her and it caught Alessia’s, Leah’s and Kyra’s attention right away. When Steph came with Calvin, it would have been utopian to hope for a second of attention from them. The dogs were happily eating almost half of the food the players were supposed to eat, but at least they were calm.
At first, when Lia proposed you to come and have coffee with her and her teammates, you said no when you learned that none of the girls' partners were present. You didn’t want to impose yourself on one of their times together, you know perfectly well that their agreement is essential for the good of the team. But then Leah grabs Lia’s phone and threatens to come for you if you weren’t here in ten minutes.
You don’t know what Lia exactly tells them about your relationship, but they know that you have irregular schedules and that sometimes you aren’t seeing each other for more than two days, especially when Lia is away for a game.
You miss her like crazy during this time, but you knew what your life would be when you got together. Plus, Lia is definitely worth the wait. And now that you are living together, it’s easier to have time together.
“Are you still hungry? Do you want more cake?” you ask Lia when you see that her plate is empty.
“I’m fine” Lia smiles.
“Another tea?” you try.
“Another tea will be great, thank you”
You answer her smile with one before getting up. You take Kyra’s mug when she asks you for another tea too with a smug smile, not without rolling your eyes.
“You are courageous to tease her like this” Beth comments to Katie. “She could crush you without even trying”
“Nah, Lia would protect me. Right, Wally?”
“Don’t push your chance” Lia smiles.
She loves the way you effortlessly slide into her group of friends, while still being yourself. Well, you are maybe not as clingy as you are at home, but you aren’t afraid to show how much she counts for you and Lia likes it.
Lost in reading the different possibilities of teas, you don’t feel your girlfriend’s eyes on you. You are in fact so lost in the menu that you miss a noise that you usually recognize in half of a second.
The explosion of one of the pipes inside the wall takes you by surprise. Like the other people you find yourself on the ground, needing several seconds before understanding what happened. The fire has already started and the only thing who comes to your mind is Lia.
You jump on your legs and look around, but with the smoke it’s hard to see through it. People are screaming and running around, and you really hope that Lia is already outside.
“Lia!” you still call, even if you know there is only a little chance for her to hear you.
She’s not near the table where they were seated, and you finally spot her a little far away. She’s looking around and you wonder if she’s confused and doesn’t find the exit. You’re too relieved to see her without any apparent injury to realize that she’s looking for you.
In two seconds, you are in front of her. Her pretty face is a little dirty because of the smoke when you take it between your hands.
“Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”
The Café is now empty, or at least you can’t see anyone because of the smoke. Finding the outside and fresh air is a relief for your lungs but for your anxiety too, you know that smoke can be dangerous for anyone, and you don’t want that for Lia.
You find the girls outside and after a quick mental count, you can confirm that they are all here.
You haven’t released Lia, trapped in your arms. She doesn’t seem to mind, though.
“Did you call the firefighters?” you ask one of the employees.
You nod when he answers that there is an automatic alarm, before lowering your eyes to look at Lia. She’s already looking at you.
“Are you okay?” you ask her.
She nods and you kiss her temple before taking a discreet but deep breath. She is okay, you shouldn’t be so concerned when you know that everything is fine with her. Your eyes roam the crowd while you’re waiting for the firefighters. You wonder who will come.
But then, you see him. A boy, who is maybe six or seven years old. He’s crying and a lady is trying to console him. You frown softly and you can’t fight your instinct, you want to comfort him too, explain to him that firefighters are coming and that everything will be alright.
“I’m coming back” you whisper to Lia.
She gives you a curious look, but you only smile at her and kiss her forehead, letting her go slowly before making your way to the boy and the woman you assumed is his mother.
“Hi there, Kiddo” you say, kneeling in front of him.
He looks at you silently, tears still flooding on his cheeks. But it’s okay, you weren’t expecting him to be better just because of your presence. You are on a day off; you aren’t wearing your uniform.
“That was pretty scary, yeah? But you don’t have to worry, my friends are coming, and they are the best firefighters in the world. It’s going to be alright, you are safe, okay?”
“Will they be able to save my mother and my baby sister?” he asks between two hiccups.
You frown, before looking at the woman near him. She gives you a sad smile and shrugs. And you are suddenly scared of what you are understanding.
“What do you mean?” you ask still calmly.
You don’t want to make him more upset than he already is. But inside, your heart is pounding.
“She went to the bathroom to change the diaper of my little sister. I didn’t want to go with them, so I was waiting at the table with my game and then there was this big boom”
You have to listen very carefully to understand what he’s saying between his cries, but you feel your blood freezing in your veins. You don’t see any woman with a baby, which means they are still trapped inside the building on fire.
“He was crying in the middle of the Café, so I took him with me” the other woman explains.
“You were right to do it. You saved his life”
You stand to look at the Café once again. Smoke is getting out of it; the explosion has broken some windows, and the doors aren’t closed as they should to avoid the air stirring the smoke. It doesn’t look good.
Your decision is already made.
You have to go back inside and save them. You aren’t aware that Lia heard everything and that she understands really quickly what is happening in your head. But you are quicker than her.
You don’t look back, so you don’t see Lia trying to run after you. You don’t see Steph catching up with Lia’s arm at the last moment, only thanks to her footballing reflexes. You don’t see that she needs Leah’s help. And you don’t see either Caitlin grabbing her proper girlfriend’s arm when Katie takes three steps to follow you, warning her with her eyes only.
Inside the Café, there are flames now, coming from where you supposed the explosion was. You know that place, so you don’t have trouble knowing where the bathroom is. But it feels strange to be near the fire like this without your uniform protecting you against it. The heat warms your skin in the most unpleasant way.
You cough a little because of the smoke but try to stay focused on your mission. Find the mother and the baby and get them out.
You decide to ignore the characteristic noises of the building, made with wood decoration, just before things start to fall from the ceiling.
The door handle is burning hot when you touch it to open the door of the ladies’ bathroom, but you grit your teeth and open it as slowly as you can, not wanting to create a backdraft.
“Is someone here?” you shout.
You protect your mouth with the sleeve of your hoodie, trying to breathe as little smoke as possible. But when you finally see the silhouettes of the people you were looking for, you kind of forgot this detail.
You kneel next to the woman, who put the face of her baby against her to protect her.
“Give her to me, I’ll help you”
She hesitates, probably a little taken aback from your look. After all, without your firefighter’s clothes, your tattoos and your appearance are probably more impressive. But she doesn’t have another choice.
You help her to get up and beacon her to follow you. The baby is crying in your arms but it’s a good thing for you, at least she’s still breathing and conscious. The smoke is darker than before and there are way more flames. It’s a little harder to find your way back like this and you miss your helmet very much.
You swear when you realize that a beam fell during this time, making it harder to get out. But you only have to look up to understand that there are way more beams who might fall soon.
You explain your plan to the mother. You stack several things to help her to pass over the beam on fire, before following her to give her her baby. And as soon as she’s outside, you look for other things to stack, because there is no one helping you from the inside.
It’s becoming harder and harder to breathe, between the smoke and the heat of the fire. You start to feel that your head is turning, and your reflexes are becoming lower and lower, which means you are running out of air.
You are able to jump to avoid the beam that fell where you were standing several seconds before. But then you fall backward and hit your head against the corner of a table.
The shock is hard, and you are out for some time. You don’t know if it is for several seconds or minutes. But then you hear the voice of your Commander, beckoning people in difficulty to hide under something. You know that the smoke is less strong if you are on the ground.
You finally lie somewhere under a table in the fetal position, not able to stay awake for more time.
********
You are startled awake suddenly, at least as much as you can be awake when you aren’t able to open your eyes. You hear people shouting around you and two big noises, like if someone suddenly had slammed two doors.
And then you feel your body moving without you able to do something against it. But with some thinking, you understand that you are in an ambulance.
“Her heart rate is stabilizing itself” you hear someone say.
Someone adjusts something on your face, and you understand that they put a mask on you to help you breathe better.
But then you hear a sniff, and you feel the person next to you turning in another direction.
“It’s going to be okay Ma’am. She’s safe now” another voice from the first says.
You don’t hear any answer and there is nothing but silence after that. But you, you feel your heart getting faster. Is Lia with you in the ambulance? What has she seen of you? How is she feeling?
“Her heart is beating faster again” says Voice One after the beeps of the monitoring get mad.
“What is happening?” Lia asks with a broken voice.
“Nothing to worry much about. Her body is adjusting to the trauma.”
Lia’s voice breaks your heart, and you try your best to stay calm. You don’t want to scare her more than she already is.
You probably fell asleep at some point, since you woke up in another place soon after. There is only silence there, but it helps you to try to understand what is happening. You can open your eyes for now again, or even move a single part of your body. There is still a mask on your face and a light weight on your hand to make you understand they probably put a catheter on it.
“Did you call her parents?”
You recognize Leah’s voice, the accent of the native of Milton Keynes making it easier for you. You are glad that she’s here for Lia, even if the other girl doesn’t answer something vocal.
“Do you want me to?”
There are some noises, and you guess that Leah probably just left the room. It’s hard to say how many minutes pass before you hear Lia moving too. You can’t see her but imagining her leaving the room too isn’t really pleasant for you.
On another hand, she could have her reasons. You knew from the first day of your relationship that your career might make her leave. You made a lot of decisions to protect her, even if she made you swear that you would never lie to her.
Today might be the day she decides that she has had enough.
But Lia isn’t leaving. You feel her stroke your knuckles and then your fingers. Her touch is comforting, like always, and you feel your body relax almost immediately.
Lia isn’t talking, but the comfort she brings you helps you to finally open your eyes. It’s hard to do, just like you are awakened in the middle of the night after a shift of 48 hours.
You look around and there is a flick next to you who makes you turn your head softly in that direction.
Lia’s green eyes are looking at you, unable to hide the surprise she feels when she realizes that you are awake.
She doesn’t seem to know what to say, but you do. You reach to take the mask on your hand, taking it off so you can talk.
“Please don’t leave me”
In your mind, you weren’t going to talk with a broken and almost cavernous voice, but you are. Lia doesn’t answer at first, taking the mask from your hand before putting it in its place.
“I am so mad at you” Lia whispers, coming closer to you. “But I’m not leaving in any way.”
You look at her eyes, knowing that she’s unable to lie to you in any way. And, to your big relief, she’s telling the truth. You feel your body relax again, probably helped by the caress Lia does now in your hair.
“Do you remember when you asked me to live with you? You said that you can’t imagine a world where I’m not with you”
You nod softly, not understanding at first where she wants to go with it. You remember, of course. You always have been scared to tell her how much you love her; how much you need her. In part because there are no words strong enough to say how crazy you are about her. But because you don’t want to scare her too.
“Can you please stop assuming that I’m not feeling the same way? I need you in my life too”
It’s another mystery for you, how you managed to catch a girl like Lia. And make her stay.
“Losing you would break me. Please, stop putting your life in danger. I’m okay with you working as a firefighter. I’m so proud of you because of it. But since now, you have to promise me to stay safe. For me. Please.”
She’s begging and it would be logical that she’s the one who should cry. But you shamefully feel some tears rolling on your face. Your throat is tight and makes it difficult to talk. So, you just nod and it’s enough for Lia for now.
She cups your cheek and wipes your tears with her thumb, before kissing your head softly.
“Okay” she whispers. “Now you have to rest. I’ll kick your ass later.”
You smile, even if you don’t know if she can see it behind your mask. 
“The baby” you whisper suddenly, remembering the family you tried to help.
“They are safe, all three of them. They are together. But please, don’t worry about the others. Worry about you now. Sleep, Pookie.”
You want to ask more questions, but your eyes are heavy, and you can’t resist much longer. You still can feel Lia’s presence next to you, helping you to have a real and deep sleep. She never left your side and finally doesn’t really kick your ass.
It’s finally your Commander who will do it several days after, even putting an advertisement on your head, making you do all the worst chores of the station when you will come back. It seems to amuse Lia a lot when you come back home, complaining after having cleaned the engines of all fire trucks in the firehouse all day long.
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autumnsvixen · 3 days ago
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Damaged - part 1
next
Azriel x f! reader
When the high lord sent Cassian to Ironcrest to recruit females to train, he was never expecting Cassian to bring something, or someone, back.
Word Count: 2093 Warnings: misogyny, violence, blood, use of knives, physical abuse, this is taking place in an Illyrian war camp so read with caution. I'm serious, it gets pretty dark and violent.
A/N: this is part one of a slow-burn Az fic I have in the works. I know you don’t see much of Az here, but I promise it is coming. And it will be well worth the angst wait.
masterlist || request guidelines
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You stood by the training mat, eyes fixed as you were entranced by the male in the ring. His moves were graceful as he handled his sword with a precision you’d only seen in the birds that dive to the nearby lake as they hunt their aquatic prey. He swung towards invisible enemies, cutting them down with ease. As you watched him, you could only wish you could one day carry yourself with the same easy danger as he did. The males in the camp barely spared him a glance, and those who did had looks of disgust and anger on their faces.
Your trance was broken by the harsh sound of your brother’s voice, “Y/N, stop watching that bastard play pretend and get back inside. Shouldn’t you be washing my training leathers?”
Your shoulders stiffened as you moved your eyes from the training ring to the snow-covered ground below you. You mustered out a small, “apologies, I was meant to be fetching water for the wash. I just got distracted.”
He inched closer to you, the smell of sweat and grime pulling a gag from your throat that you swallowed down. His tone was quiet but harsh, “if I ever catch you looking at that brute again, I will show you what a real male can do with a sword.”
Your breath hitched, but you nodded obediently, running off to fetch water from the well on the outskirts of camp.
As you were pulling the bucket back up towards you, you were once again frightened by the sound of a male voice behind you, “I know you were watching me earlier.”
Your heart quickened as you turned, the bucket shaking in your hands, “I didn’t mean to offend you, sir, I apologize.”
The male with the long dark hair smiled softly at you, “no need to apologize. I was actually going to ask if you wanted to train with me tomorrow. You’re the only one here who seems like a worthy mentee.”
With wide eyes, you looked up at him fully, taking in the red glow of his siphons and the rich hazel of his eyes. “I would love that, but I am far too busy with my chores and my brother wouldn’t like it if I were to forego them to train with you.”
He stepped closer to you, a kind softness in his eyes, “If it’s your brother you are worried about, I can ensure you I will protect you from any backlash you might face.”
If only he knew what kind of backlash your brother had been known to give out. You shook your head, “I know that you and your high lord have imposed your laws about female training, but it is still strictly… discouraged in this camp.”
He looked angry at your words, an expression which faded into pity as he took in your trembling form. “If your brother has a problem with you training under his general, I will gladly speak with him. I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”
“All due respect, general, you won’t be the one facing the brunt of his anger.”
He rolled his shoulders back, “then let me teach you how to defend yourself against him. He won’t hurt you while I am here.”
You hesitate, knowing you truly wanted nothing more than to learn how to fight, how to protect yourself against the males who had threatened you throughout your existence. He sees this and continues, “if you decide you want to take me up on my offer, meet me in the training ring 2 hours before dawn. That way, your brother won’t even know you’re gone, and you will still be able to complete your chores.”
With a respectful dip of your head, you breeze past the war general with the bucket still in your hands.
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You don’t meet him in the ring the next day, or the following day. Despite the longing you felt to train, you couldn’t overcome the fear of your brother’s anger. It was in the early morning of the third day, as you stood by the dish basin in your family home and watched the war general train through the window, that you decided you would join him. You had only meant to be distracted for a moment, allowing yourself a glimpse of his routine, but you had been entranced once again. Your brother had caught you staring, anger coating his eyes.
With a hot hand, he grabbed your arm and spun you around, the dish falling from your hand and into the tub. His other hand met your throat, squeezing tightly. “What did I say about watching him train, little sister?”
Your eyes were wide with fear as you struggled to breathe, body frozen in terror. Your brother brought the hand not on your throat to your hip, sliding under your shirt so you could feel the cold metal of a blade against your skin.
You tried to speak, to apologize, but the grasp on your neck was too tight to allow any noise to leave your mouth. The sharp sting on your hip brought tears to your eyes as he carved a long line across your stomach. It wasn’t deep enough to seriously wound you, but you knew there would most likely be a scar.
He smiled wickedly down at you, bringing the bloodied knife to your cheek. He swiped it across your skin before leaning close to your ear, hot disgusting breath hitting your skin. “Now be a good little sister and clean yourself up. Then get back to work.”
The grip on your neck disappeared and you gasped for breath, holding onto the edge of the basin behind you for stability. As you regained your composure enough to grab a nearby rag, you made your decision. No matter what, your villainous brother would find a way to hurt you. The only thing you could do for yourself was learn to fight back.
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You had hoped that Cassian would be pleased to see you in the early hours of the morning the next day, but you were instead met with a look of concern.
“What happened to your face?”
You shrugged off his question, “you told me you could teach me how to defend myself, right?”
His mouth morphed into a grimace as he took in your week appearance, the inflamed pink mark across your cheek. After a few moments, he nodded, “I hope you’re ready to work.”
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You found that, despite the bruises and soreness that had made their home on your body, you enjoyed Cassian’s training. He pushed you enough to help you grow, but not so far that you would regress into the fear that had consumed your entire body throughout your life. He respected your boundaries, and never asked you to explain when you would show up to train with new cuts along your face or arms.
But any fool could tell he was furious about them. You had made it clear you wouldn’t talk about them and that you didn’t want him interfering, and he was too scared that you would stop coming if he did. Out of anger, or because you would be left in a state so poor you’d be unable to train, you both weren’t sure.
One day, the two of you had gotten distracted, and training had lasted just a bit longer than it normally would. As you were heading off the training mat, you caught a glimpse of your brother’s watchful eyes through the window of your cabin. They held an icy fury, and you knew what was to come as soon as you got home. You thought to ask Cassian to accompany you, but knew that if you didn’t face your brother now, it would only be worse later.
To your surprise, your brother said nothing as you carefully entered the house. You watched him warily, as he didn’t even spare a glance in your direction. You quickly changed into your household clothes before starting quietly on your chores, jumping at the sound of the front door slamming shut as your brother left for the day.
The entire day, you were on edge. Chores had taken you less time than normal due to your anxiety quickening your hands. You were on your way to the market to trade the coins your brother earned as a blacksmith for meats and new gloves for him, as he had requested, when you were stopped by three looming figures.
You recognized them as your brothers friends, males who had come around to your home to get drunk with your brother and make gross, degrading comments towards you as you served them. Then, their eyes had been filled with lust and entitlement. Now, they were filled only with rage.
“Your brother said you’ve been training with that bastard general.” One of the males said.
Another spoke, “weak females like you don’t get to train.” He reached out to grab your shoulder, pushing you to the cold, hard ground.
“If you think you’re strong enough to fight like us males, why don’t we test out your skills?” The third one spoke as fear washed over your body. You pushed yourself up to your hands so you were sitting, looking up at them.
The second male’s foot made contact with your side as he kicked you harshly, sending you back to the ground. Though you had been training with Cassian, he had only been helping you build muscle and endurance, not to fight. Not yet.
Another of the males swung his legs on either side of your waist, pinning you underneath him. His hands wrapped around your throat, cutting your oxygen supply off. You struggled underneath him, trying to bring your knees up to harm him, but another of the males stomped on your ankle before you could.
A splintering pain traveled up your leg at the impact, bones cracking underneath his foot. You tried to cry out in pain, but no noise would come out.
The lack of oxygen was causing your vision to go blurry, hands scratching at the male’s to loosen the grip around your throat. He obliged, but you quickly realized it wasn’t from your pleading. His friend passed him a dagger, which he swiftly brought to your neck.
“C’mon little girl, didn’t your bastard teach you anything?” His voice was filled with disgust and anger, his breath reeking of ale. Your heartbeat was a swift and constant thud in your chest, echoing the fear you felt.
A scream left your lips as he plunged the dagger into your chest, just under your collarbone. You could nearly feel the blade scrape the bone as it entered you. You tried to push him off, but the other males placed their feet on your arms, keeping you locked into place. The male on top of you took his free hand to cover your mouth. “Hush, good girls don’t scream.”
Tears poured from your eyes as he removed the bloodied dagger from your chest before swiftly bringing it back down again, this time into your side. You screamed against his hand, the pain overwhelming you.
He continued his ministrations, plunging the blade into your middle, avoiding your heart and lungs narrowly, but not caring about anything else. You lost track of the pain, mind and body going numb as you let the frozen fear take over you.
At some point, it stopped. You would later vaguely recall a flash of red and the sound of men in pain, but in the moment you could barely remember your own name.
A male kneeled over you, concern in his hazel eyes and long hair brushing against your face. You groaned out of instinct, not pain, when he picked you up, your head lolling to rest on his shoulder as he took off.
“Don’t you dare fall asleep on me,” he said harshly to you over the roaring of the wind in your ears. You vaguely recognized that you were flying, a feeling so instinctual yet so unfamiliar to you, despite the large wings on your back.
The next things you remember happened in flashes. A dark male with bright, violet eyes taking hold of your hand, a castle surrounded by balconies and arches, a soft bed and warm hands spreading magic throughout your body, your bones clicking back into place, and a dark figure who seemed to be more shadow than fae.
It was him you thought of as the same darkness that surrounded him filled your vision and you were overtaken by a dreamless sleep.
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dissapointu · 2 days ago
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Hey, i love your work and i think that your writing is beautiful
Can i request the ladies of Arcane with a imortal fem s/o? Like, she's about their age and cannot die from things that aren't time itself, their s/o can only die when her time comes, until then, no matter how much anyone tries to kill her, she will simply regenerate
Sorry for the long text and english errors, it's not my native linguage. Also, thank you for reading it :)
Thank you so much for your kind words! Your English is amazing, and I’m honored to bring your idea to life.
Jinx
Jinx would think your immortality is the coolest thing EVER.
• When she finds out, her immediate reaction is pure excitement. “Wait, so you’re, like, INVINCIBLE? That’s AWESOME!”
• She’d probably test your ability at first—nothing too serious, but you’d definitely have to talk her out of throwing you into something reckless. “What? You’d heal, right? No big deal!”
• Over time, though, it would hit her: if you’re immortal, she’s the fragile one in the relationship. It’s a bittersweet realization for her.
• “Promise me something, okay? That you’ll remember me… even when I’m gone.” She’d cope with humor most of the time but get quietly sentimental when she thinks too hard about it.
• Jinx would also LOVE showing off your ability. “This is my girlfriend—she’s totally unkillable. Jealous much?”
Vi
Vi would be lowkey awestruck by your immortality, but she wouldn’t show it at first.
• When she first sees you regenerate from a life-threatening wound, she’d be wide-eyed for a second before shaking it off like, “Okay, that’s a neat trick. Care to explain?”
• Once she understands the full extent of your ability, she’d be deeply relieved. “That’s one less thing I have to worry about… but damn, does it still freak me out.”
• She’d be protective of you, even though you don’t technically need it. “Immortal or not, nobody gets to hurt you on my watch.”
• The thought of growing old while you stay the same might weigh on her sometimes, but she’d push those feelings aside to make the most of the time she has with you.
• “Guess that just means I have to make every day count, huh? You’ll remember me when I’m gone.”
Sevika
Sevika would be skeptical at first but ultimately find your immortality fascinating—and useful.
• When she sees you regenerate after a near-fatal injury, she’d be stunned for a moment before muttering, “Well, that’s one hell of an advantage.”
• She wouldn’t coddle you, knowing you can take care of yourself, but she’d still have your back in fights. “Just because you can’t die doesn’t mean I’m letting anyone get a hit in.”
• Your ability would earn her respect, especially in the rough-and-tumble world of Zaun. “You’re tougher than anyone I know. Guess that’s why we work.”
• She might joke about your immortality, saying stuff like, “Good thing you’re stuck with me—nobody else could keep up with you for that long.”
Caitlyn
Caitlyn would be both amazed and worried about your immortality.
• When you reveal your ability, she’d be quiet for a moment, processing what it means. “So… no matter what happens, you’ll always come back? That’s incredible, but… also terrifying.”
• She’d admire your strength but still feel protective. “Just because you can’t die doesn’t mean I want to see you hurt.”
• Your immortality would make her think deeply about her own mortality, but she’d value the time you spend together even more. “It doesn’t matter how long we have. Every moment with you is worth it.”
• Caitlyn would support you in every way, helping you navigate the emotional weight of your immortality. “You’ve seen so much, but I hope I can give you memories worth holding onto.”
Mel Medarda
Mel would see your immortality as both a gift and a burden.
• When she learns about your ability, she’d be intrigued and ask thoughtful questions. “How long have you carried this? How does it feel, knowing time is your only limit?”
• She’d admire your resilience and strength, seeing you as a kindred spirit in navigating a world that often demands too much.
• Mel would be deeply aware of her own mortality, but she wouldn’t let it hold her back. “If I only have a fraction of your time, I’ll make it unforgettable.”
• She’d also be fascinated by the strategic advantages of your ability, often thinking about how you could use it to shape the world. “With your gift and my vision, we could change everything.”
Ambessa Medarda
Ambessa would be incredibly impressed by your immortality and see it as a rare, invaluable strength.
• When you reveal your ability, she’d smile knowingly. “I had a feeling there was more to you than met the eye.”
• She’d appreciate your ability from a pragmatic perspective, understanding how it could turn the tide in dangerous situations. “Immortality is a weapon. Wield it wisely.”
• Ambessa would admire your determination and experience, often asking for your insights. “Someone who has seen so much must have a wealth of wisdom. Share it with me.”
• She’d be confident in your ability to protect yourself but still fiercely protective of you. “Immortal or not, you’re still mine to protect.”
Maddie Nolen
Maddie would be in awe of your immortality but also concerned for how it affects you emotionally.
• When she finds out, she’d be both amazed and worried. “You can survive anything? That’s incredible… but it must be so hard, too.”
• She’d do her best to support you emotionally, always checking in to make sure you’re okay. “You don’t have to carry this alone. I’m here for as long as I can be.”
• Maddie would focus on creating meaningful, happy memories with you, knowing that her time with you is finite. “Every moment we share is precious to me.”
• She’d admire your ability to keep going despite everything you’ve experienced, often telling you, “You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever met.”
Lest
Lest would have a unique perspective on your immortality.
• When she finds out, she’d tilt her head curiously and ask, “Does it hurt, coming back? Or is it like waking up from a long nap?”
• She’d be fascinated by your ability and how it shapes your perspective on life, often asking you questions about your experiences.
• Lest would be quietly protective, always by your side even if you don’t technically need her help. “Just because you can’t die doesn’t mean you should face everything alone.”
• She’d enjoy your company immensely, seeing your immortality as an opportunity to build an enduring bond. “If I stay by your side, will you tell me your stories? I want to be part of them.”
TL;DR: Each character would be amazed by your immortality, but their reactions would be shaped by their personalities. Whether it’s Jinx hyping you up, Caitlyn worrying about you, or Mel pondering how to use your gift to shape the world, they’d all admire your strength and resilience while cherishing the time they have with you. You might be immortal, but their love and devotion would still feel infinite.
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s4vwrites · 2 days ago
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sweet ─ ❤︎ .ᐟ
outer banks jj x fem!reader
not proof read i made this while high and haven’t wrote in years
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warnings - none! unless you squint really hard
Promt: in which jj’s girlfriend is a little too sweet
and here you were, getting scolded by jj on john B's couch at least you thought it was a couch you weren't really sure by how many piles of clothes were presumingly thrown onto here it “are you even listening?" jj says pulling you out of your thoughts looking at you softly. “i’m serious what if they wanted to hurt you, what if me and john b hadn’t gotten there in time?” the worry in his voice evident “what were you even doing on that side baby?” he says fidgeting with his rings pacing back in fourth just a few feet away from you. “there was a seashell.” you quip back knowing it was no excuse let alone a good reason to almost get yourself hurt. “what?” he said abruptly stopping his pacing to walk over and sit next to you having to move some clothes in the process.”it’s a seashell baby its not worth getting hurt for.” he says putting his hand on top of yours clutching softly looking at the slight cut on your knuckle feeling some anger rise. “i was trying to get it for you jj, i thought it’d look good on a necklace or a bracelet for you-“ your suddenly caught of guard when he brings his hands to cup both sides of you face, you don’t have any time to process before he kisses you. it’s a soft kiss one you don’t want to pull back from until your yearning for air. pulling away your the first to speak “i know it was stupid but i thought i’d be cute or something.” you say a little deflated meeting his gaze, for a moment there’s just silence as you both just hold each others hand and sit together. “that’s cute, stupid very stupid but cute” he breaks the silence pulling you into his lap making you blush. “my baby just is so sweet trying to get a seashell for little old me?” jj says face all red burrowed in your neck leaving light kisses “what did i ever do to deserve you?” he ask leaving a faint kiss on your check before hugging you from behind. “well-“ before you can even starts he stops you with yet another kiss. “it was rhetorical baby don’t answer that.” if trying to get cute seashells ends up like this all the time then you’d probably try again tomorrow.
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he’s a little ooc i’m gonna zzrayagjwbwjekfjrn anyways this is short to start easing back into writing
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caplanbuckybarnes · 1 day ago
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The Devil's Tailor (mafia!bucky barnes)
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Summary: you work for dangerous criminals, most notably, the mafia leader himself, when they need new suits and dresses for political statements.
Warnings: mafia au, a smidge of flirting
WC: 630ish
Read on AO3!
--
The faint scent of cigar smoke clung to the air, mingling with the aroma of freshly pressed fabric. You stood behind the counter of your little tailor shop, fingers delicately threading a needle as if the world outside didn’t exist. But you felt it—the weight of his gaze before he even spoke.
“Miss Y/L/N,” came the low, gravelly voice. “You’ve outdone yourself again.”
You didn’t look up immediately, letting the final stitch slide into place before tying it off. “You say that every time, Mr. Barnes.”
Finally, you raised your eyes to meet his, and there he stood, James Buchanan Barnes, the most dangerous man in the city, dressed in a suit you’d made for him just weeks ago. The midnight blue fabric clung to his broad shoulders like a second skin, the silver cufflinks gleaming under the dim light. Everything about him screamed power, from the glint of his vibranium hand to the calculated smirk playing on his lips.
But it was his eyes that caught you—the sharp, steel-blue gaze that seemed to strip away every layer of pretense.
“Well,” he drawled, stepping closer. “Maybe it’s because you deserve the compliment every time.”
You fought to keep your composure, placing the freshly finished tie on the counter between you. “Flattery won’t get you a discount.”
His smirk deepened, and he reached for the tie, his fingers brushing yours. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, you’re worth every penny.”
“You mean my work is,” you corrected, stepping back to give yourself some breathing room. “What can I do for you this time?”
Bucky leaned against the counter, his presence overwhelming in the small shop. “I need something special. A suit for a meeting.”
You arched a brow. “Special how?”
His expression turned serious, the playful air dissipating. “Let’s just say this meeting might be… heated.”
You nodded, understanding the unspoken words. A bulletproof vest wouldn’t suit his needs, but a suit lined with discreet protective layers? That, you could do.
“I’ll need measurements again,” you said, grabbing your tape measure.
“Think I’ve grown?” he teased, but his tone lacked its usual lightness.
You walked around the counter, gesturing for him to stand straight. “Arms out,” you instructed.
He complied, and as you worked, you couldn’t help but notice the scars peeking out from his collar, the tension in his shoulders, the slight weariness in his eyes.
“You trust me with this?” you asked quietly, your fingers grazing his wrist as you measured.
Bucky’s gaze softened, his voice dropping to a murmur. “I trust you with more than that, doll.”
The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, you forgot about the tape measure in your hands.
“Why me?” you whispered, meeting his eyes. “You could go anywhere. Hire anyone.”
He tilted his head, a small smile curving his lips. “Because you don’t ask questions. You don’t judge. And, most importantly…” His fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face. “You make me look damn good while keeping me alive.”
Your heart skipped a beat, but you forced yourself to focus, clearing your throat. “Well, let’s hope this suit does the trick.”
He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “If anyone can pull it off, it’s you.”
As you finished taking his measurements and scribbled notes, Bucky lingered by the counter, his eyes never leaving you.
“You know,” he said as he turned to leave, “they call you The Devil’s Tailor out there.”
You smirked, crossing your arms. “Only because I work with the devil himself.”
Bucky’s grin was wicked, his eyes glinting as he opened the door. “Careful, doll. Keep talking like that, and I might just make you mine.”
And with that, he disappeared into the night, leaving you with trembling hands and a heart that raced faster than it should.
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rose24207 · 3 days ago
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sliding into the requests and asking for something where Mafia Lando gets jealous when some guy flirting with you and he dosnt find out till he walks on this guy flirting and reader and Lando aren't even dadting but it should be common knowledge reader is off limits. 🫦
Your work is in flick. Like seriously you're other fics are so good. 🤌
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The Rookie’s Mistake
Summary: In which a Rookie makes a mistake by unknowingly flirting with someone that belongs to Lando.
Genre: Mafia!Lando
TW: Mafia
A/N: thank you soo much for the request and the feedback. It brings me joy to read the positive comments! I hope you like it! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!
Masterlist
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It was late in the evening when you stepped into the dimly lit bar, the familiar hum of low conversation and clinking glasses greeting you.
The space was quiet, but that was how you liked it.
It was the kind of night where you could relax with a glass of wine, the weight of your thoughts temporarily lifting in the presence of a small crowd.
You’d been invited to this particular gathering, a casual evening among Lando’s men. They’d told you he was busy with something that couldn’t wait, as always.
But tonight, you weren’t upset by his absence. After all, you’d grown used to it.
You ordered your drink from the bar and settled in, letting your eyes scan the room.
Lando’s empire wasn’t easy to navigate, and most of his men understood that. They knew who you were—Lando’s—and they respected the boundaries that came with that. No one dared to flirt, not without serious consequences.
But the key word was most.
And tonight, it was a rookie’s turn to make a fatal mistake.
You saw him the moment he walked in—a fresh face among the usual crowd of hardened men.
His name was Luca.
You didn’t know much about him, except that he had just been assigned to Lando’s inner circle.
He looked cocky, sure of himself, his expensive jacket and confident gait announcing that he was more than just a rookie to him.
As you took another sip from your glass, you noticed him glancing in your direction.
There was an arrogance in his eyes that made something in your stomach tighten. He was the kind of guy who walked into a room and immediately thought he had the world at his feet.
Luca’s eyes flicked to you again.
This time, the look was different.
It was bold.
Too bold.
You raised an eyebrow, internally rolling your eyes. There was always one rookie who thought they could play it like that.
He sauntered over to where you were sitting, his smile broad and completely unaware of the invisible warning signs radiating from every person in the room.
Every one of Lando’s men who saw him move in your direction stiffened, exchanging wary glances.
They didn’t have to speak to each other—they knew better.
Luca, on the other hand, was too full of himself to notice.
“Hey,” he said, standing a little too close to your table as he flashed you a confident smile.
“I don’t think we’ve met. Name’s Luca.”
You looked up at him from your seat, coolly assessing him.
“I know who you are,” you replied, your voice calm, almost disinterested.
Luca chuckled, his smile widening. “Oh yeah? I guess I’m pretty memorable.”
He took a seat across from you without waiting for an invitation.
“You’re not from around here, are you? You don’t look like the usual crowd. More like… well, you’re too pretty to be hanging out with this lot.”
The comment made you roll your eyes inwardly. You’d heard worse from men who were actually worth your time, but Luca’s arrogance was another level. He didn’t even seem to care that the men who worked for Lando—who worked with Lando—were now all watching, a few of them with uneasy glances.
But none of them intervened yet.
No one dared.
“I’m not some random girl, if that’s what you’re implying,” you said, choosing your words carefully.
You wanted to make it clear, but without outright insulting him just yet.
“Of course, of course,” Luca replied, his voice smooth as silk, but there was a certain smugness to it now.
“I’m just saying… maybe you could use some company. It’s not every day you see someone so stunning walking around this place. What do you say? We grab a drink and see where things go?”
You weren’t sure whether to laugh or roll your eyes.
The audacity.
He was so naive, thinking you’d fall for some charming line. This wasn’t your first encounter with men like him—but it was definitely one of the more brazen.
But before you could respond, you felt it.
A shift in the air.
A dark weight that wasn’t there just moments ago.
The subtle sound of boots hitting the floor, slow, deliberate.
Luca didn’t notice.
He was too busy leaning in, clearly enjoying the small audience of Lando’s men who were now holding their breath.
The rest of the crew, including Marco, the long-time veteran of the group, exchanged glances.
They all knew exactly what was going on, and none of them were about to step in.
Not unless things went south.
Then, just as Luca’s hand moved a little too close to yours, his words still echoing in your ears, a voice you knew all too well interrupted.
“Luca.”
The sound of Lando’s voice sent an immediate wave of tension across the room.
The entire group of men froze, but Luca, for all his arrogance, didn’t seem to realize what was happening until Lando’s figure appeared in the doorway.
Lando stood there, eyes dark, sharp, like an animal sensing its prey. His gaze flicked to Luca, and then to you.
The moment he saw your face, the storm that had gathered around him seemed to calm, just slightly.
His expression softened, but his eyes were still cold, piercing through Luca like daggers.
“Lando,” Luca said, rising quickly, wiping his hands on his pants as if trying to look more composed.
“It’s nothing, I was just—”
“Don’t,” Lando interrupted, his voice low, deadly calm. “I know exactly what you were doing.”
The men in the room stiffened, each of them understanding the unspoken command in Lando’s tone.
Luca looked a little less confident now, though he was still trying to salvage his dignity.
“You’re new here,” Lando continued, taking slow steps toward the table.
The air felt thick now, heavier with every move he made.
“But you should’ve learned by now that you don’t flirt with what’s mine.”
Luca blinked, his smile fading as he seemed to realize the gravity of the situation.
“Lando, I didn’t know—” Luca began, but his voice trailed off as Lando’s glare intensified.
“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Lando said, his voice dangerously soft. “You didn’t know.”
You watched as Luca’s face flushed, all the confidence he had been exuding evaporating in an instant.
Lando was not someone to be messed with, and everyone in this room had known that from the start.
Lando’s eyes didn’t leave Luca for a moment. He gestured to the door with a sharp, almost imperceptible motion.
“Get out,” he ordered, his voice icy. “And don’t come back until you’ve learned some respect.”
Luca’s face contorted into a mix of frustration and embarrassment, but he knew better than to argue.
He quickly mumbled a hasty apology and made a retreat toward the door, his shoulders hunched in defeat.
As soon as the door closed behind him, the tension in the room lifted, but only slightly. Marco’s eyes met Lando’s, a quiet understanding passing between them. It was the kind of unspoken language only Lando’s men understood—the kind of trust that ran deeper than words.
Lando turned to face you, his gaze softening, the dangerous edge fading.
“Are you okay?”
You nodded, exhaling the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “I’m fine.”
Lando’s jaw tightened, his eyes still a little too intense. “No one touches what’s mine, Y/N. Not even the rookies.”
You smiled faintly, letting your gaze soften. “I know.”
And for a moment, it was just the two of you in the room. All the chaos, all the power, all the danger seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the quiet hum of the bar and the unspoken promise in Lando’s eyes.
You were his. And in this world of shadows and blood, nothing was ever going to change that.
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Thank you for reading!
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daisymbin · 3 days ago
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hii can u pls do angst #50 with seungcheol? and ofc, not an happy ending >__< i love ur writing sm, thank you!
ah!!! yes I can!! thank you for requesting 🤍
request your own: full prompt list!
check out my masterlist! // cheol's m.list
angst prompt #50: "I hope they're worth it."
seungcheol stumbled through the front door, the faint scent of alcohol and guilt clinging to his skin. the clock on the wall read 8:23am, but he didn’t need to check the time to know he was late—too late. the moment he stepped inside, he saw you sitting on the edge of the couch, arms folded tightly, face pale and blotchy, with dried tear tracks staining your cheeks.
you had been crying.
"you’re home," you said flatly, your voice raw like you’d been screaming into a pillow all night.
his heart sank. he’d spent the entire cab ride rehearsing what to say, but the words disintegrated in his throat. his voice came out hoarse. "yeah. i… uh, i lost track of time."
you laughed bitterly, the sound low and hollow, and reached for your phone. you slid it across the coffee table, the motion sharp, deliberate. the screen was lit, an image burned into it—a picture of him kissing someone at the bar.
someone who wasn’t you.
his breath caught. his fingers trembled as he picked up the phone, staring at the evidence of his betrayal. the rush of blood to his ears drowned out everything else.
"you weren’t even going to tell me, were you?" your voice cracked, anger bubbling just below the surface of your words.
"i—" his voice faltered. "i didn’t mean for it to happen. i was drunk, and—"
"don’t." the single word stopped him cold. you stood abruptly, wrapping your arms around yourself like you were holding yourself together with sheer will. your eyes shimmered, fresh tears threatening to spill, but you blinked them back, your voice sharper this time. "don’t insult me by blaming it on the alcohol."
his chest tightened, the weight of his mistake pressing harder with every word you spoke. "it was a mistake. i swear, it didn’t mean anything. i—"
"you don’t get to decide what it means, seungcheol." your voice broke, and this time, a sob slipped out. you pressed a hand to your mouth, as if you could stop it, but it was too late. the tears were falling again, streaming down your face even as you tried to stand tall. "you don’t get to brush it off like it’s something small, like it’s something i’m supposed to forgive just because you feel guilty now."
he moved closer, his hands trembling as he reached for you, desperate to bridge the chasm he’d created. "please, it was a moment of weakness. i love you—"
"love?" you let out a strangled laugh, the sound choked by tears. you wiped at your face with shaky hands but didn’t bother to hide how much you were breaking. "is this what love looks like to you? leaving me here all night, wondering if you were safe, only to find out you were with someone else?"
his knees felt weak. he sank onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. "i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to hurt you. i don’t even know why I—"
"stop." you cut him off sharply, your voice steadier now, though the tears kept falling. "don’t sit there and act like you don’t know why. you knew exactly what you were doing. you just didn’t care enough about me to stop yourself."
his own tears started to spill, hot and heavy, but he didn’t wipe them away. "it was a mistake," he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his guilt. "it didn’t mean anything."
"it meant enough for you to do it," you shot back, your tone trembling but firm.
you bent down to pick up your bag from the floor, your movements slow, like every step you took was crushing you.
"wait," he blurted, panic lacing his voice. "where are you going? we can fix this. we can—"
"we?" you turned to face him one last time, your tear-streaked face filled with heartbreak and resolve. "there is no ‘we’ anymore, seungcheol. you destroyed that the moment you kissed her, the moment you decided i wasn’t enough."
his throat tightened as he tried to hold back his own sobs. "i’ll do anything. just… don’t leave. please."
you shook your head, the weight of the tears on your lashes making them shimmer in the dull morning light. "i hope she was worth it," you said quietly, your voice trembling as your lips quivered. "i really do."
he could only watch as you walked out the door, the sound of it closing behind you echoing in the empty apartment.
he stayed on the couch, staring at the spot where you’d stood moments ago, his tears falling freely now. the silence was suffocating, filled with the weight of everything he’d lost. he buried his face in his hands again, but this time, there was no one left to comfort him.
and he knew he deserved it.
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pandapetals · 21 hours ago
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Couple Questions
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You and Logan answer some cute couple questions!
professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, your an english professor, logan is a history professor
read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here
a/n: not the usual update but I saw some couple questions on pinterest and thought you know what…im gonna do this because it’s cute. i may or may not also have headcanons for them lol.
What were your first impressions of each other?
You : grinning "I thought he was rude. He barely said hello when I first arrived at the mansion, just mumbled something and walked away like I wasn’t worth his time."
Logan : smirking "To be fair, I had a lot on my mind."
You : "But then I caught him staring at me in the library one day, and I thought, ‘Huh, maybe he’s not as grumpy as he looks.’ Turns out I was wrong—he’s grumpier.” teasingly nudges him
Logan : chuckling "You done? ‘Cause my first impression was that you talked too much."
You : mock gasp "Excuse me?!"
Logan : shrugging "But you had this fire about you. Didn’t take crap from anyone. Thought that was… different." pauses, his voice softening "And your laugh. First time I heard it, I couldn’t get it outta my head."
Describe the moment each of you knew you had feelings for each other.
You : thoughtful smile "I think it was when Jean told me Logan liked me. It just… clicked. All the banter, the little glances, the way he’d hover nearby even though he pretended not to care—it all made sense. Once I realized it, it was like… yeah, I like him too. It was terrifying and exciting at the same time."
Logan : scratching the back of his neck, pretending to look annoyed "She’s makin’ me sound soft already."
You : "You are soft."
Logan : ignoring her "For me, it was probably when I realized she wasn’t offended by my attitude. That’s when I knew she wasn’t just anyone. She was my someone."
Did either of you fight your feelings, or was it easy to accept?
You : snorting "Oh, we both fought it. He avoided me a lot of the time. I overthought everything —does he like me? What if I’m imagining it? What if I ruin our friendship?"
Logan : dryly "You do think too much. Me? I didn’t avoid you."
You : glaring playfully "You literally avoided the library for two weeks, and that’s your favorite place!"
Logan : grinning faintly "Alright, fine. Maybe I fought it a little. Was scared I’d mess things up. Didn’t think someone like you would want someone like me."
You : softly, brushing his hand "You’re an idiot for thinking that, but you’re my idiot."
When was the first time you said “I love you”? What prompted it?
You : "It was after a nightmare. Logan woke up in a cold sweat, muttering apologies for scaring me. But he hadn’t scared me—I just wanted to comfort him. And in the middle of me rambling about how it was okay, it just came out: ‘I love you.’"
Logan : quietly "Didn’t think I’d ever hear those words from someone. But when she said it, I couldn’t stop myself. Told her I loved her right back."
You : smiling softly "And then you called me a ‘damn fool’ for putting up with you."
Logan : shrugging "I stand by it."
Who is the big spoon, who is the little spoon?
You : "Oh, Logan’s the big spoon, obviously. But sometimes I’ll be the big spoon when he’s had a rough day. He pretends to hate it, but I know he secretly likes it."
Logan : grumbling "I don’t need a damn cocoon, sweetheart."
You : grinning "But you still let me."
What’s your favorite quality about each other?
You : "Logan’s loyalty. He’ll protect the people he loves with everything he has, even when he doesn’t think he deserves to be loved back."
Logan : looking at her, his voice softer "Her heart. She’s got this way of makin’ everyone feel like they matter. Like they’re worth somethin’. That’s rare."
You : teasingly "Stop, you’re gonna make me cry."
Logan : smirking "Good. Payback for all the times you make me feel stuff."
Who is the messiest?
You : raising her hand immediately "Me. Absolutely me."
Logan : snorting "Finally, somethin’ we agree on."
You : "Hey, at least I know where everything is in my mess. Your ‘organized’ piles confuse me."
Logan : "It ain’t hard, darlin’. One pile’s for weapons, the other’s for books. What’s so confusin’?"
Who sings in the shower?
You : grinning mischievously "Logan does. And he doesn’t even realize it half the time. It’s adorable."
Logan : deadpan "I don’t sing in the shower."
You : "Oh, so the other day when I walked by and heard you mumbling ‘Sweet Caroline’ under your breath, that wasn’t you?"
Logan : grumbling "I was hummin’ it. There’s a difference."
You : sarcastically "Sure, tough guy. Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Who likes horror movies? Who likes romance movies?
You : grinning "Logan likes horror movies, obviously. He’ll sit there, all serious, like nothing phases him. But I swear I caught him flinch once during The Exorcist ."
Logan : gruffly "Did not."
You : "You did. Anyway, I like romance movies. Logan pretends to hate them, but he always ends up watching them with me."
Logan : smirking "That’s ‘cause I know you’ll cry, and I gotta be ready to hand you tissues."
You : rolling her eyes "And yet, who was tearing up during The Notebook last week? Hmm?"
Logan : groaning "Alright, fine. I might like some of ‘em. But don’t go tellin’ anyone."
You : "Oh, your secret’s safe with me. But I’ll totally remind you next time we watch Pride and Prejudice ."
Logan : grinning, pulling her closer "You’re somethin’ else, sweetheart."
What’s your favorite memory of us?
You:thoughtfully smiling “That’s hard to pick. But… I think it was when you planned that romantic getaway for my birthday—you bought me that dress. Or when you wrote that for me poem and gave it to me for Christmas.”
Logan:grinning faintly “You mean the one where you cried ‘cause I wrote you that little poem in the book?”
You:mock gasping “You wrote me a poem , Logan. Of course, I cried! I still have that dress, by the way.”
Logan:chuckling, his voice softer now “That was a good one. But for me? I think it’s our wedding. Just you, me, and those vows I wrote on a scrap of paper. You called me an idiot for cryin’ halfway through.”
You:sniffing dramatically “And I’ll call you an idiot for it again, but only because you cried first. You set me off.”
Logan:smirking “You weren’t even gonna cry ‘til I pulled out that damn lucky pen you gave me.”
You:“Well, yeah, it’s our lucky pen, Logan! What did you expect?”
Hugs or kisses?
You:grinning slyly “Kisses. Definitely kisses.”
Logan:raising an eyebrow “Really? I’d say hugs.”
You:blinking in mock surprise “Logan Howlett likes hugs? Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”
Logan:shrugging, smirking a little “What can I say? There’s somethin’ about you wrappin’ yourself around me that just feels right.”
You:melting a little before recovering quickly “Okay, you win that one. But kisses still come with extra perks.”
Logan:grinning wickedly “Oh, I know.”
Who finds it harder to admit they’re wrong?
You:“Oh, Logan. 100% Logan.”
Logan:gruffly “What? That’s not true.”
You:glaring playfully “Logan, you once argued with me for three hours about the best way to cook eggs—only to realize you were wrong and never admit it.”
Logan:grumbling “That’s ‘cause your way still doesn’t make sense.”
You:crossing her arms “Oh, it makes perfect sense, tough guy. You’re just stubborn.”
Logan:grinning faintly “Alright, fine. Maybe I don’t like bein’ wrong.”
You:“Maybe?!”
Who’s the boss in the marriage?
You:smirking, pointing to herself “Obviously me.”
Logan:laughing softly “Yeah, you think so, huh?”
You:“Logan, who does the meal planning? The laundry schedules? Who makes sure you actually remember birthdays and anniversaries?”
Logan:grinning “Alright, you. But who fixes stuff when it breaks? Who makes sure no one bothers you when you’re havin’ a bad day? Who makes the coffee in the mornin’ exactly how you like it?”
You:softening, smiling sweetly “Alright, fine. We’re both the boss in different ways. But let’s be honest—when it comes to arguments, you fold first.”
Logan:mock scowling “Only ‘cause you give me those damn eyes. Ain’t fair.”
Who has the best jokes?
You:grinning smugly “Me. Hands down.”
Logan:snorting “Yeah, okay. But only ‘cause your jokes are so bad, they’re funny.”
You:“Excuse me?!”
Logan:grinning “Sweetheart, half your jokes are puns. Don’t get me wrong, I love seein’ you crack yourself up, but best jokes? Nah.”
You:frowning in mock offense “Fine, then let’s hear one of your so-called ‘good’ jokes.”
Logan:deadpan “Why’d the history book break up with the science book? No chemistry.”
You:blinking, then laughing despite herself “Okay, that was actually pretty good. Damn it.”
Who is grumpier?
You:“Oh, Logan. No contest.”
Logan:shrugging, unbothered “Yeah, probably.”
You:giggling “You’re basically a walking thundercloud until you’ve had your coffee. And even then, you’ve got about an hour before you start growling at people.”
Logan:smirking “That’s true, but you’re no ray of sunshine when you’re hungry.”
Who gets angry when they’re hungry?
You:immediately “Okay, fine. That’s me. But in my defense, you always know when to feed me before I get too hangry.”
Logan:chuckling “Damn right I do. Learned that the hard way on one of our first dates.”
You:giggling “Oh, you mean the time you forgot to feed me after making me hike five miles, and I almost bit your head off?”
Logan:grinning “Yup. You didn’t even wait for the food to hit the table before tearin’ into me. Thought I was gonna lose a hand.”
You:grinning sheepishly “Hey, at least you didn’t run for the hills.”
Logan:softly, leaning closer “Nah, sweetheart. I’d take your hangry self over anyone else any day.”
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slowcatsisland · 1 day ago
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Trafalgar D. Water Law; Ideal Type Deep Dive
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The first thing that comes to my mind is that audio - “ I need to find my darling husband!” “What do you see in that guy?” “He makes me laugh.”
Law absolutely needs to be with someone who can make him laugh.
Throughout the post time skip arcs, it has been shown that Law -
Has a fear surrounding accepting and giving love
Believes that there must be a reason for earning love/giving love to someone
Law’s character had the most development in Dressrosa and Wano that could propel him towards healing with the defeat of Doflamingo, the revenge of Corazon’s death, and the closure statement that Sengoku says to him: “Don’t try to find a reason for someone’s love.”
Law has to heal first, or have a partner that will help him heal. To me, Law wouldn’t even think of committing to a relationship until the end of Dressrosa/Wano.
Law surrounds himself with goofy people, so it makes sense for him to fall for a goofy person.
This person would probably be on his crew as his trust issues wouldn’t allow for him falling for someone that has other loyalties that could easily be prioritized over him and end up betraying him.
Law is strict about subordinate dynamics, which is why you being on his crew may also hinder him from wanting to pursue something with you because he’s supposed to be your boss essentially.
Law would want someone that is smart, textbook smart like he is, but I also see this not being important if he truly runs into the ‘one’ that brings him the most peace.
I mean by that if you can’t hold and add to a conversation about idk the anatomy of the human body and the effects of a certain ailment, you’re not totally disqualified from his radar.
Someone who could hold emotional conversations with him is good. Even if he probably wouldn’t want the conversation. He’s kinda icky with feelings. Someone that could tell him how he feels, how they feel, and how that changes the context of whatever situation they are in. He needs someone like that.
I used to be opposed to the thought, but I believe Law needs someone truly soft. That means you could still fight if needed, but would rather not yk. It’s okay if you’re not out here swinging a machete trying to bloody the streets with your foes. That aspect of humanity that you have is something Law needs more prevalently in his life.
I remember reading an analysis of Law’s type and the creator said something similar to “Law needs someone who wouldn’t pull the trigger, just like Corazon didn’t.” I don’t know how much I agree with it but I think it’s worth mentioning.
Someone patient, but stubborn. Someone who is willing to wait for him to be ready to accept his feelings and won’t leave him when he makes a mistake (trust me he will make many mistakes in a relationship). Someone who also won’t be an idle figure in situations, you have an opinion and will voice it even if it doesn’t agree with Law’s perspective. You think the crew should help him on something rather than wait on the submarine and him go off alone? Tell him and make him listen, even if he shuts you down.
Law needs someone positive that can look at things with a glass half full mindset. Someone who looks at the rain and thinks about how the plants are getting water, someone who watches the snow fall but are commenting about how Penguin and Sachi are making snow angles and Bepo is really comfortable in the temperature. You even out his pessimism and bring light.
You’d have to get along with the other crew mates, especially Bepo too. Bepo is so important to Law, and if Bepo didn’t like you it already taints Law’s image of you.
You were always kind to him. Even before he invited you onto his crew, he identified your nature and could make a note about how you’re different from the majority of people he’s met.
Preferably, you’d be goofy, but not too loud. I feel like Law gets uncomfortable around those that are crazy extroverted- kinda like Luffy. Sometimes it reminds him too much of the Donquixote Pirates with all their flamboyance. That doesn’t mean if you have this quality you’d be off the list, he would just need it in smaller chunks or around the crew to be acclimated to it.
Grr, someone that ends up reminding him of Rosinante. Someone that Law knows is just a good person, regardless of their past.
If he asked you “why do you love me?” And you couldn’t give him an answer, you’re perfect.
He needs someone to be his safe space. Someone that could sit in his office while he works, content in the shared silence. Someone that he could ramble about his coin collection to without the worry of being judged. Someone that he could let touch his chest and have them run their fingers through his hair without worry that he’ll be harmed. Someone that will soothe him after he has a nightmare or read out loud to him until he falls asleep.
Someone that cares for him- this loops back to the stubbornness. Someone that tries to make him go to sleep, to make him eat, to make him take breaks from working. To make him live happily, something that he’s starved himself of truly ever since he was 10. He prolly won’t act like it, but you showing you care for him makes his heart bleed suffocatingly.
Someone that can show him how to love again and what it feels like to love again omg. The destruction of Flevance and the manipulation of the Donquixote Pirates so cruelly changed his perception of love.
Law wouldn’t want you to be a big shot in canon. If your bounty was rather substantial compared to his crew and him, or you had a crazy ability- it would make him worry awfully. He’d probably try to keep you out of harms way even more than he does with the rest of his crew.
Someone he can tell everything to and trust that they’ll keep it a secret.
Someone that likes the cold, likes the ocean. Living on a submarine as a pirate kinda requires this lol.
Omg imagine you’re from the North Blue too. He picks you up around the same time he does Penguin, Sachi, and Bepo. You’re one of the original members. The connection I feel like he would have with you would make him more willing to fall for you…
I feel like Law would like someone with longer hair. If he could watch them brush it, curl it around his finger, watch them create a hairstyle for the day. Small acts of domesticity in life.
Someone with large, doe eyes. He can see so much emotion through them, they hold so much weight. It reminds him of Bepo. (lol)
Someone aware of their own emotions and are in tune with their wants and needs.
I feel like he would fluster really easily if you had a gummy smile. Yk those big, pure smiles where the gums showed. When your eyes crinkly and your teeth are bared so naturally and without malice. It’s so beautiful to see.
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He’s so broken
Mwah 😽
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wisecura · 2 days ago
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Next.
Wc: 6k
p.2 to this p.1
AN: thank you again for reading—proofread warning.
Warning: dub-con, jealousy, manipulative behavior, controlling behavior, smut (MINORS DNI), degradation, demeaning, rude gojo-like bad boy, bad, just not healthy my dude. Read with caution
Again.
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Satoru, of course, had heard everything. The menace he was—he’d wound you up hoping to draw a confession from you. But like always he managed to get carried away. He couldn’t say he was upset with the outcome. He’d been able to see you so deliciously vulnerable right before his eyes. The way you squirmed beneath him, your beautiful doe eyes practically begging him to fuck you. And the second he’d heard your footsteps prattle away, a moan coming from your room, he knew it was all worth it.
His feet carried him straight to your door, long forgetting the food. He quietly approached, leaning in closely to listen. Your moans mixed with the wet squelches made him stutter out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His dick painfully hard in the confines of his pants. The image of you shuddering beneath him still burned into his mind. He’d pushed you, yes. But it was worth it to see the jealous look smearing your pretty features.
And now, his prize and punishment. Just out of reach. The sound of your vibrator, your whimpers and moans, and finally the sound of your climax. You filled the entire apartment with your sinful sounds.
His head rests against the door, his palms flexing. He put himself in this position, yet he wasn’t mad about it. His ear tinted red as he tried to imagine what your face looked like when you came. He’d thought long and hard, leaning against your door like that.
Satoru left the house soon after that. And when he’d arrived home, the lights were out in the apartment. He saw you had eaten the curry he left out for you, as he listened in for any sign of life. You were likely asleep. He brought the bag back to his room, locking the door before digging in. He’d bought several things that night, and was itching to put them to good use. Ordered some more to come in the next day.
You on the other hand were suffering from post nut clarity. What had you done? What had he done?
Would he pretend this never happened? He left the house before you could work up the courage to go talk to him about it. He’d been the one to push you, though. Would you even be able to face him. Explain to him the actions of your stupid horny brain. You had wondered if he really hadn’t heard you. Would you just be embarrassing yourself by bringing it up? And what about your conversation at the island table?
When you left for work the next day, you hadn’t seen him at all. Usually he’d be in the kitchen making breakfast for the two of you. You’d typically eat together, laugh about the movie you’d watched the night before, then say your goodbyes for the day.
But his bedroom door was shut. So you left. The change in routine was more noticeable than you thought. You didn’t realize how accustomed you were to having Satoru’s presence around you, that it just threw your whole day off.
When you got home that evening you immediately noticed something was off. You spotted more artwork on the walls. More furniture in the previously bare environment. It felt warmer than before, as you placed your bag by the door. More like home.
You heard rustling in the kitchen, making your way to the source of both the noise and the delicious smell. And there he was. In all his handsome glory. Who made him that attractive? You think spitefully.
“Oh! You’re home?” The word home hung a little more heavier than it did before. “Yeah, I just got back.”
He nods, as you take your seat in the island chair. Your mind flashes back to your position there yesterday night before he speaks up.
“How was your day?” The conversation remained light. You talked about each of your days, excluding the awkwardness of the morning.
“What’s with all the new decor? It’s nice don’t get me wrong, but…”
“Ah I wanted to liven the place up a bit…you can add whatever you want. It’s your place too, y’know?”
The words hang there. Should you address it? How would that conversation even go?
“Should we…should we talk about yesterday?” He remained playful and easygoing, “what’s there to talk about?” Was he being serious? He was just going to ignore it? Your confusion must’ve shown on your face—
“I think I was pretty upfront. You aren’t leaving. This is your home as much as mine.” That was only the tip of the iceberg, and you didn’t know how to approach the topic that would change the entire basis of your relationship.
“What are you expecting from me? Some kind of friends with benefits?” Your voice attempting nonchalance yet failing to hid the bitterness. He just didn’t seem the type for relationships. But a situationship did seem right up his alley. His smile tightened as he addressed you coldly, head tilting.
“I don’t care what label you put on it. Long as you aren’t seeing other people. Long as you stay here.” You decide to drop it there, not liking how cold his eyes had gotten. Eating in strained peace.
You shower off before heading to bed, but not before running into him in the hallway. His eyes shamelessly skimmed your body, which thankfully was still wrapped in a towel. You nodded at him before scurrying to your room and closing the door quickly. His gaze still made you so flustered.
You moved to grab your clothes before noting the framed landscape painting on the wall in front of your bed. It was somewhat awkward knowing that he’d been in your room while you were away, but it is his apartment, right?
You dress in your pajamas before tucking yourself in bed. The room was dark as you snuggled in the overly soft comforter.
That was before you heard him.
A low groan, followed by another. You sat bolt upright in bed. His room was on the other side of the wall, so you didn’t need to strain much to hear it. Continuous strings of moans, groans, and pants. You weren’t sure you were hearing right. You wait a few moments, unbelieving. Was he really doing this? Your face flushed red as you lay back in bed. You reach down between your legs feeling the dampness over your clean panties. Damn.
All it took was his voice. You touch your clothed pussy, feeling the damp spot grow. His groans and panting heavier as he begins moaning out your name.
You to freeze up, heart hammering. He was playing so dirty.
Too warm. You pulled the covers back, pulling down your shorts and underwear. The cold air hits your slick pussy and you rub meticulously. Your other hand stifles your moans before they can come out.
Satoru was playing dirty and he knew it. The second he was in bed, his mind never left how you looked walking around in that small towel. The water droplets clinging to your hair, and the smooth expanse of your creamy skin on display.
You were a fucking minx walking around like that. Pulling that stunt yesterday. All he had to do was imagine you, and the rest was history.
He was sure his moaning carried through the walls. He wanted to give you a little something for the day before. A few minutes go by before he pulls out his phone, clicking his new home security app. He’d placed cameras around the house. Expensive ones. Ones you wouldn’t see, hiding behind the decorative paintings he’d placed everywhere. Including your room.
You were lying there on your bed, your finger on that perfect gushing pussy. The camera quality, crystal clear. He couldn’t stop the groan from his mouth, calling out your name softly again. The satisfaction rolled in waves at the movement of your hips, no doubt in response to his voice.
This had been the best investment he’d ever made.
Tensions had been high around the apartment. Much to your displeasure. Satoru was still very friendly with you, spending much of his free time around you. Still very touchy, yet never crossing that line of too much.
He still never addressed your silent war of loudly masturbating in your rooms— a war which you both seemed to continue after that first day. And it was not something you were going to comment on first, especially if he was being stubborn. You’d spent more time out of the house, feeling that tension stifle you. But you’d wanted more from it. Wanted more from your relationship and he didn’t seem like he wanted to talk about it.
He would complain when you stayed out for long periods of time, but it was better than addressing the shift in your dynamic. And you could only stand to see his face so often when you frequently heard him climaxing in the next room over. Your name a constant on his tongue.
You’d met up with your childhood friend from home. You’d known him for years, having grown up together.
Satoru had met him too—funnily enough. He’d been the catalyst for Satoru’s possessive best friend hugging era. That friend.
He’d came into town, and messaged about a meet up. He’d only be there for a day or two. On the way out of the apartment that morning, you let Satoru know you wouldn’t be back for dinner, not wanting him to set the plate. He looked bored when he’d ask where you were going. Even when you told him who you were meeting up with. And he said nothing when you left the house to go to dinner that day.
All of this to say, you now found yourself very shocked. That conversation had only been a few hours ago, though it felt longer. Here you were sat across from your childhood friend.
And to your right was Satoru Gojo.
In the flesh. The look on your friend’s face was nothing short of awkward. He hadn’t expected you to be bringing a plus one. And judging by the look on your face, you hadn’t expected Satoru there either.
Maybe this would’ve been more comfortable had it not been for how Satoru was acting.
Satoru sat back in his chair, legs sprawled out beneath him, and was possibly the only comfortable looking person at the table. His smile broad, eyes easy going. The only tell for his own irritation was the tension in his shoulders.
“Sooo, who’re you again?” His underlying tone, condescending, boarding on mean, but still managed to keep his playful persona.
“Satoru—“ “Ah my name’s—“ You shoot your friend a look for him to shut up, giving him a light kick under the table. “Satoru, you know his name. Stop teasing.”
You give him a pointed look, still unsure why he was even there in the first place. With the way he was acting you had no doubt he’d wanted to make it awkward. You’d found out he was just quirky that way.
“Why’re you even here? This wasn’t supposed to be a group thing-“ He hummed out your name in a singsong voice, his arm swiftly clapping around on your friend’s shoulder, yanking him closer. “He doesn’t seem to mind, mm? What’s your problem with it?”
He pouted out his lips, feigning innocence. His tone doing nothing but stoking the small flame of annoyance in your chest. His puppy eyes were on display, seeming to plead his case with you, but you wouldn’t give in this time. You wouldn’t have minded him joining in, but it was the fact that he just showed up with no word. It was painfully rude. Especially when he seemed less than interested that morning. Your eyes flit to your friends, pitying his position, “Sorry for him-“
“Sorry for what!” Satoru’s loud voice rang out, “I’m a delight!” His voice indignant. You huff out, before hearing the waiter approach the table. She eyed your situation, before flushing at Gojo. Ugh.
“What can I get started for you~?” Her pitch was a bit grating to your ears. Maybe you were being too critical? But the way she eyed up Satoru solidified your critique. Absolutely grating.
Satoru smiled at the soured look painted across your face. It only got worse when the waitress came over, practically tripping over him. It did nothing to help his ego, and he pat your friend on the back, a little more forcefully than he intended before letting go. He was irritated that you were here. That you’d chosen a little date with this waste of space sitting next to him.
His grin was wide, as he made sure to eye you down—gauging your every reaction. But your eyes were on the waitress. Not him. And that annoyed him even more than he cared to admit.
“Mmm” he hummed out, turning his charm up. He hadn’t meant for it to sound so…He leaned over the table, resting his head on one hand, making eye contact with the waitress,
“What’s your sweetest dish?” The question was innocent enough. His tone light—somewhat suggestive, he knew you wouldn’t like it. The waitress flushed, and she looked away, giggling. The sound was a bit annoying, he’d admit.
He didn’t like playing this game, but he couldn’t control his actions when it came to you. His eyes flit back to you-just marginally, hoping he’d find you looking over at him. But you wouldn’t turn your fuckin’ head.
He reminded himself that it was fine. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to remind you who really mattered here.
His competition was sat to his right, his grin uneasy and uncomfortable. Satoru could tell he was a fish out of water, and it satisfied him to no end knowing that he knew. He knew he could never size up to the Satoru Gojo.
If you didn’t see it, he’d just have to show you. Show you that he was the more desirable option. The better pick.
If others showed some interest in him then maybe you’d see it? He contemplated flirting some more, giving you a taste of your own medicine. He eyed the waitress shamelessly, hoping you saw him. Only for a moment.
But his thoughts were racing, and he felt somewhat desperate and out of control. You still refused to look at him, and it really was starting to drive him crazy. If only you hadn’t come out to see this fuckin shrimp.
He wouldn’t wait around for you. He didn’t need you.
But that was a lie. And he knew it. He was just jealous. And he didn’t know how to convey it.
But he knew how to get your attention.
Instigating obvious sexual tension for weeks. Act nonchalant when you spoke about your childhood friend—randomly, your supposed dinner plans with him. Pretend to ignore you as you left the house dressed up that sleek form fitting black dress.
✨Show up when you least expected it.✨ Make your friend uncomfortable, putting you in an awkward position. Flirt with the waitress right in front of you when he felt like you hated him. When he felt like you preferred someone else’s company. And now?
What else could he do to garner your attention? He could make good on his comment from before, bringing her home and fucking her right next to your bedroom door.
But the thought disgusted him. He couldn’t even picture it. And when it reached his mind, he pulled back from the flirting immediately. You glared at him now, your arms crossing over yourself in a self soothing gesture. He couldn't understand how you were able to come out like this. Not when he revolted at the idea of even touching another woman. How could you so casually sit across from another man and eat dinner like it was nothing?
And like always, Satoru took it too far. But damn if it didn’t get him results.
Your eyes were back on him.
“Right, I think I’ll be leaving now—“ you stood up, not even having placed your order. The waitress caught off guard by your sudden announcement. Before you could finish raising from the chair, Satoru followed suit. Standing up frighteningly fast, causing you to stumble back. His quick reflexes caught you on instinct, straightening you back upright. You shrugged him off, not feeling too fond of the white haired sorcerer at the moment.
You looked over at your friend, “I’m so sorry, we’ll just meet up next time, okay?”
Your voice so sincere it made Satoru’s chest hurt. His cursed energy licking up his insides. He could barely reign in the emotions he felt kicking back up. He watched the exchange with growing annoyance, as your friend slowly stood up, agreeing. He hugged you before parting ways, and before Satoru could utter a word, you were flying past him, the opposite way.
“Hey, wait!” His long legs catching up with you quickly. You ignore him, opting to pretend he didn’t exist in that moment.
You were still fucking hungry. And now you were cold, the nighttime air biting at your exposed legs. You walked for a few blocks, as Satoru silently tailed behind you. He hadn’t said a word, and you hadn’t bothered looking back to check if he was still following. You’d been looking for a decent food stall you could buy some noodles at.
Sure, Satoru hasn’t specifically come out and said he’d refrain from talking to other girls. But you didn’t think he’d be so blatant with his flirting. And right in front of you. Right in front of your friend? How embarrassing.
Your conversation flitted back into your mind, remembering the possessive tinge to his words. As long as you stayed with him. And as long as you didn’t see anyone else. No labels needed.
You so badly wished he’d been more forward with his intentions. It almost felt like he was stringing you along. Did he even care about you the way you cared for him? You hadn’t even kissed him yet. But you’d heard the way he’s climaxed. Those two didn’t fit together, you thought.
But you weren’t sure you wanted to kiss him with the little tantrum he’d thrown earlier. And his blatant disregard for your feelings. Did all of that not apply to him? None of it made sense.
And now he was invading your other friendships, putting you in shitty positions by making you look bad. All you wanted was a chill night out. Catching up with a long time friend. Hearing about the new gossip around your hometown. It’d be ages since you’d gone out.
“You ready to talk?” His voice irritated you to no end, your head snapping back to look at him. Only to find yourself looking up. When had he gotten so close? You’d been so surprised you stumbled. “Wha—“
His cocked head back, looking down at you with icy eyes, stopping you in your tracks. Was that malice?—He pulled you off the side of the road, tugging you by your arm into a dim alleyway. You stumbled over your heels before you felt your back hit the freezing wall. He had you caged again, his hands on either side of your head.
“Let’s talk.” He’d decided for you. Voice dipping low, you felt a shudder run up your back. From the cold? or him? you aren’t sure. “Satoru-“ “Are you doing this on purpose.” His voice heavy, still maintaining a teasing lilt to his voice. Always teasing.
“Doing what?”
“Playing these little mind games.” He seemed to seethe, now, “Mind games?” You parrot, dumbfounded at his accusation. What the hell was he on about?
“Yes” he hissed out, laughing, “your little games.” His tone boarded on hysterical now, blindsiding you in seconds. The whiplash inevitable. He seemed to break at your lack of adequate response. Where was this coming from?
He leaned in closer, breath tickling your ear, “I can put up with the moaning and the whimpering coming from your room. The slutty clothes you wear around the house. The sly little looks you give me. The way you call my name in your sleep.” His voice teetering on the edge. “But I won’t have you running around in that skimpy outfit, meeting up with other men for dinner.” words harsh, and blunt.
Was that really how he saw you? Some needy whore he put up with? The thought made you cringe. Why’s he being so mean?
“If you didn’t want me there then you should have said something, Satoru.” You spat his name out like it was a rotten bite of food. Ignoring the fact that he’d finally addressed what you’d been skirting around these past few weeks.
But you’re too moody to deal with his bullshit right now. You go to move, wanting to just go home, “its none of your business what I wear, and who I go out with—“ He uses his body weight to his advantage pressing you back against the wall, his leg slitting between yours, easily riding up your dress. This position feeling uncannily familiar. His hand finds purchase in your hair, yanking your head back to look up at him, holding you in place.
“None of my business? No, Sugar. I’d definitely have to disagree.” His voice cold, any trace of teasing long gone. You struggled a little now, not knowing where he was going with this. But his eyes seemed to be swirling. He had to be going crazy. You refused to respond to this. He wasn’t acting like himself— “Should I just lock you up? Chain you to my bed?” You choke on your own spit. Maybe it’s just a bad joke? But that tone. And his eyes—“Y’know I could, right?” But he isn’t joking. This feeling—his cursed energy licking up your sides, pooling off of him. He wasn’t reining it in. This wasn’t your best friend— “wouldn’t even need your permission. Got a whole place where noooo one else would hear you.” He’s talking to himself—at you. You couldn’t find the words to respond. “You’re lucky I’m so nice.”
You’re shaking now, feeling his cursed energy press into you from every angle. He was suffocating, and for the first time you felt really felt scared of him. That strength always there but he’d never pointed it at you. This felt like a bad dream, your stomach twisting in knots. You just wanted him to stop.
“No other man would let his woman leave the house like that. Dolling herself up to meet some other guy. Whoring herself out-“ “Satoru…please.” His eyes seemed to finally refocus on you.
Your trembling form, the tears pooling in your eyes. From any other man’s perspective, it’d be the right thing to pull back, and let you breathe. If he were any other man, he might’ve given in and given you that comfort you so desperately craved right then and there.
And if it had been any other situation he would have.
He stood between your legs, your tight black dress bunched up high on your thighs. You were straining for some stability. He could feel your heat through your panties, and it made him feel that much more feral. Tears pooled around your eyes in the most provocative way, your lips twisted up like you were ready to cry. The image of you had been burned into his mind. He remembered how pretty you looked when you cried.
Your form trembling beneath him, gave him back all the control he’d lost when he was back at that table. You couldn’t have had any other ideas, coming out tonight looking like that. And to think if he hadn’t shown up, you’d still be sitting there across from another man. Having to watch you doll yourself up for anyone but him.
He hadn’t thought long about it before. What he’d actually do if you decided to try and find another partner. He was always so sure you’d be there for him. By his side. He’d always been the best. The strongest. Who wouldn’t want Satoru Gojo as a partner? He’d been waiting for you. Waiting for you to make a move, for you to come to terms with your feelings and give him more to work with. Flirting, in the only way he knew how. And he thought it’d been going pretty well. Considering how you responded to all of his advances.
But now. Now he couldn’t stand it. The concept of you leaving the house. The concept of you going on dates. The days leading up to tonight, you’d been going out more. Something he couldn’t stand. You’d gone too far this time. Satoru had already come to terms with all of his feelings. It was about time you did too. But he didn’t intend to play nice after what you’d done.
“What’s wrong?” He feigned a comforting tone. You began sniffling, trying to keep it together. “You gonna fuckin’ cry? After stringing me along like that?”
Looking up at him with those eyes. It made him fuckin insane. Your voice was shaky, “I didn’t—“ “I know you’re not gonna say you didn’t try and play me. You wouldn’t be that stupid to think this whole mess was a good idea? That you’d forgotten what I told you before.”
You didn’t know what to say, your mind so hazy and frazzled from your oncoming mental breakdown. He wasn’t helping it either with his incessant badgering. He was easily overcrowding you, his frame blocking your field of view. Your breathing picked up as you felt your vision closing in. He was everywhere. And all in between.
You’d wanted to tell him you really had only been going out to see a friend. And you really didn’t think it was that far off to assume you and Satoru weren’t together. But it was a little silly saying that. To not feel somewhat responsible for this. He was jealous of your friend. Fine. You could work with that. But were you dating? Did he consider what you’d had an actual relationship? You hadn’t even talked about it. Really talked about it. You kept repeating to yourself that you could fix this. You struggled to find the breaths and the words to voice your placations.
“I-I’m sorry.” You whisper, your voice somewhat breathy from panic. “Huuhh~” his voice drawn out, boarding on cruel (in your opinion) “What’d you say?” He leaned closer, voice lowering. “you’re too quiet.”
“I’m sorry, Satoru.” Your voice wobbled, as you tried not to cry. A tear made its way down your cheek despite your best efforts. You still loved him. Despite how much he was scaring you right now. You still loved your best friend. “Aww~” his thumb wiped away your tear, “you think a ‘sorry’s gonna cut it?” You couldn’t stop the trembling now, his actions boarding on unpredictable. He wasn’t being the best right now, but when this was over, it would all be ok. Everything would be ok.
Satoru had to think quickly. And his mind was running a mile a second. He had you pinned against himself and the wall, the alleyway hidden from flooded roads.
It was late, and the odds of being interrupted were low. He wouldn’t let the moment slip. He had to solidify his place in your life. Had to push past your thoughts of him being friendly or playful. He’d say anything—do anything if it meant no one else’d have you. And that thought terrified him. He was positive that if another man touched you, he’d rip his throat out. Without batting an eye. He’d been ready to do so had your “friend” given any slight hint of wanting to hook up. He had been so sure he’d scared him away last time, but it seems he hadn’t taken the hint.
You watched Satoru carefully, his words sinking in. You still had no idea what he wanted from you. Had he not wanted an apology? Was he teasing you again? “Satoru, I don’t know—“ he quickly leaned in—kissing you. His teeth nearly knocking against yours as he further dominated your space. His hand still tangled up in the back of your hair.
He groaned into you, rocking himself closer against your cunt. You were so out of breath, you opened for air, only to have his tongue push through your lips. The feeling of him —all of him—was enough to make your head spin and your mind go blank. His proximity calmed your nerves in a way that made you feel more antsy than ever before. His hands left your hair, and began to roam. Feeling, clinging to places he hadn’t been before. At least not ‘intentionally’.
Giving you a second to breathe, his eyes darted, trailing his hands, his head resting on your shoulder. He was panting like a dog now. He’d never felt so riled up. It was only when he was with you. Only with you.
He’d easily found his way under your dress, tugging the fabric up to expose you to the cold night air. “W-wait, please—“ Your tugging on his arm did nothing to stop him, as his free hand found its way around your neck. A firm warning to shut up. His other hand, groping at your pillowy thighs, making their way up your side, fingers toying the underside of your bra. He shifted his thigh, pushing it right against your clothed cunt. You’d let out a breathy moan at this, as he loosed his hold on your neck.
He could see the way you responded to him. You were just as desperate as he was. He could feel you grind your hips against his thigh. The fabric of his pants dampening from the contact, as he released a string of curses. Your nails clawing into his shoulders as he started leaving wet open mouthed kisses against your neck. You felt so fucking good. He could feel himself succumbing to your needy whimpers, placing his clothes cock right where your entrance was hiding. His hips setting a rhythm that left you whining against him. He never wanted this to end.
All those nights spent listening to your siren’s call through the walls. All of those nights spent listening to your needy whines and whimpers. Begging for someone to come fuck you. Watching you through those cameras. Fucking his fist so hard, til he became his own needy pathetic whimpering mess. So close, yet he wasn’t ever able to touch. You were a fucking tease. And he loved every bit of you.
You were panting again. You felt yourself grow wet, your thighs seeking some friction against his leg. You needed to hold onto something. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders.
“You wet, baby?” His voice was teasing again, loving the way your pussy seemed to beg for him. He’d slotted himself fully between you, holding one of your legs up only to grind against your soaked pussy. When you don’t respond, his fingers curl around your neck tighter. You nod, breathlessly. “yes, yes, please, feel s’good” you’re fighting to stand, balancing on one leg, but you were sure he’d catch you if you stumbled.
“Ah, so honest. Where was this good girl earlier?” He felt his cock strain against his pants, almost painfully. “So obedient now.” Your eyes glazed, you mind filling with lewd fantasies of him spanking you black and blue for disobeying his word. You weren’t a virgin by any means, but you sure as hell weren’t ready for this man. “Want me to fuck you here?”
His eyes watched you closely, scanning for any sign that you wanted him to stop. Though he doesn’t think he’d stop even if you had wanted him to. Finding nothing but lust clouding your vision, his fingers press in between your legs, edging the spot you needed him the most. He traced circles across your clit, stalling his dry humping. He was tempted just to eat out your pretty pussy there and now, feeling the slick pooling on his fingers. “Satoru,” you let out a breathy whine, bucking your hips.
“There you go. Look at you. You’re drenched for me.” You didn’t have the head space to be embarrassed now. When his fingers finally found your clit, it was game over. Your fingers dug into his back, desperately holding yourself up. His hand around your thigh offering some support as your knees buckled under you.
“Do you think you deserve to cum tonight?” Your gaze desperately snaps up to his. Your eyes pleading to let you cum. Begging him. He’s smiling at you, a genuine lazy smile. But his eyes do all the talking. “Answer me, pretty girl.”
You nod eagerly, feeling your hips push against his fingers again. He’s circling, slow and steady, painfully slow, never dipping into your dripping hole.
“Where’d that honesty go?” He narrowed his eyes, tutting. “Think long and hard about what you did tonight. Why you shouldn’t have gone out with him.” His words continued to wrap around your haze ridden mind, his pace picking up finally. “why you shouldn’t make me do unnecessary shit to earn your attention.” His voice nearing hostile now, as he rubbed your clit with damn near precision. “You think I like seeing you with him? That I like other men’s eyes on this body.” He was relentless in his pace, you felt yourself close, body stilling and mind barely listening, nails biting into him. You tried so hard to listen to him. So hard to be a good girl. So hard not to cum. “You’re mine. Everything that involves you, involves me. Every part of you—mine. Don’t you fuckin’ forget who you belong to.”
The sound of his voice mixed with his fingers slotting against you—not even inside you yet—had you climaxing hard. Your pussy clenching-pulsating around nothing. Satoru watch you come down from your high, transfixed on your face. On the way your hips pushed into him. The way your cum mixed slick coated his hand and fingers, dripping on his thigh. He was fucking obsessed. His fingers continue slowly circling your clit, maintaining a slow punishing pace. Your body going through shockwaves with each swipe, you desperately wiggle to get away, feeling heavily overstimulated.
“Please-please stop, ‘Toru, please, please” your whimpers and pleas going straight to his cock head. He couldn’t stop himself from abusing your cunt, wanting nothing more than to watch you squirm in his arms. He’d be nice.
He brought his fingers to his lips, taking a long digit into his mouth. Something he’d never wanted to do before. He just couldn’t help the morbid curiosity—what did you taste like? And fuck you tasted amazing. He cleaned his fingers, eyeing you hungrily.
“Who knew you’d be so naughty? Did you even listen to me?” His tone taunting, as if he were scolding a child. He flipped you around, pushing your chest against the wall, practically bending you over. It was uncomfortable to say the least. When you tried to move, he pressed his chest up against your back, leaning over you. Locking you in place. You felt his dick pressed against your ass, his hands on your hips.
“Stay still for me, yeah?” He rutted against you, letting out a strained groan.
“S’not fair.” He huffed against your neck, dry fucking you against the wall. Your previous slick trailing down your leg. You needed him inside you. So so so badly. “You don’t play fair.”
His hand finally made its way back to what you sure was a rats nest of hair. He’d already tangled it up either way. He finally had enough of the teasing, pulling himself free from his pants. He slotted himself between your folds, gathering some least your honeyed goodness before brutally thrusting into you.
He’d buried himself to the hilt, his hand holding your hip in place—leaving you no where to go. You’d wiggled to move away, and at your whimper, he all but growled into your neck, “take it. You’ll take it til I’m done. You hear me?”
He pulled himself to the tip before slamming himself into again, repeating the process over and over and over. The position had him hitting your sweet spot each thrust, the quiet whimpers turning into louder moans as his hand found its way to your mouth, fingers thrusting inside, gagging you. “You forget where we are? Pipe down, pretty girl. Don’t wanna get caught, do you?” He left his fingers in your mouth, fucking fiercely into you. Driving into you with a force that left you gasping. Each push pulled you closer to the edge as you felt like you were going to—needed to cum again.
He felt your cunt clench around his dick, felt it more than you knew. He felt everything tenfold, his infinity working overtime on all of his senses. His cursed energy never dropping. Felt your cunt pulsating around him, heard every wet slap his balls made against your puffy clit. Felt how you clenched up when he spoke to you, and wondered if you were always like that. His skin was set on fire—every part that touched you, burned.
“Shouldn’t even be getting off to this, y’know? Supposed to be my turn.” Each word enunciated by a rough thrust into you, your hushed moans and pants spurring him on. He was convinced you were his everything. You were just so tight and so warm. He wasn’t able to hold back when he pumped you full, his seed deep inside. He moaned out your name as he felt your cunt spasming around his dick. Sucking him in, milking his cock dry. His fingers slipping from your lips—tightly gripping your neck, his other brushing your hip.
He hadn’t bothered pulling out. Why would he? It wasn’t like he’d planned on letting you leave in the first place.
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runninriot · 2 days ago
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Backstage Romance (I Want It Bad)
written for @steddiesongfics
song: Backstage Romance (Moulin Rouge! The Musical) | rated: E | wc: 7.018 | tags: Rockstar Eddie Munson, Manager Steve Harrington, Famous Corroded Coffin, secret hookups, dom/sub undertones, angst, smut, ambiguous/open ending | complete fic on ao3
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Eddie is buzzing, high on adrenaline like always when they’re playing a show. He’s still not used to this, it’s still something he can’t quite wrap his head around – to watch people dance and sing along to their songs, to hear their roaring applause and deafening whistles, to know they’re here for them.
It’s electrifying.
A fucking dream.
They’re still considered newcomers but Corroded Coffin are finally climbing their way out of the gutter; they’re making it, step by step, and one day not too far in the future, they’ll be on top.
It’s all Eddie ever wanted, all he and his best friends have always fantasized about back when they were still a bunch of loser kids dreaming of becoming rockstars while terrorising Gareth’s poor parents (and the whole neighbourhood, really) with the horrible noise coming from their garage.
The dream is reality now, success not only a possibility but a fact. It would be poison for Eddie's already too big ego but thankfully, there's always someone bringing him back down to earth when he gets carried away.
They’ve got a label now, signed record deal and all and-
   “Great show, guys! The people seemed to really love the new song.”
Yeah, and that. They’ve got a manager now, too.
Steve Harrington.
The guy whose appearance makes him stick out like a sore thumb from the sea of blacks and greys and dark reds around him. The guy who doesn’t look the part but actually likes what they do. The guy who doesn’t give two fucks about what others think of him because he’s not here to make friends, he’s here to do his job. And he’s pretty good at that.
Good at a lot of things.
At first, Eddie hated the idea of having a fucking babysitter on tour with them. Someone to watch their every move, someone to keep them out of trouble (where’s the fun in that?), to make sure they don’t fuck up their reputation. Someone to handle all their business affairs for them, as if they couldn’t take care of it themselves.
Now, Eddie’s actually glad they have someone to deal with everything – from interview requests and setting up their tour schedule to negotiating their contracts and booking their gigs. Steve handles it all, allowing the band to enjoy the fruits of their labour without having to deal with the annoying parts of being in the music business.
And that should be all there is to it. Just a business relation based on what’s in the band’s best interest.
But it’s not.
Not behind the curtains, backstage, when no one is looking. Where, hidden in dark corners, Steve and Eddie share a secret.
A secret that could ruin it all.
Because it’s unprofessional, could get them both in trouble. Could get Steve fired, possibly. Maybe even put Eddie’s – if not the whole band’s – career on the line if the public ever found out about it.
But that just makes it even more thrilling.
Eddie has always been drawn to that, the forbidden, things that could cause irreparable damage. And throughout his life, he’s come to ask himself more than once if this is really worth it. If it’s worth risking it all just for giving in to his reckless impulses.
But the answer has always been the same. Now even more so than ever.
He knows it’s wrong, dangerous, a game he shouldn’t be playing because playing with fire will get him burned.
The problem is that he’s a sucker for the pain.
And being ruined by Steve Harrington is worth everything.
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continue reading here
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Wow I do not like this take at all. It correctly defines popular culture while getting basically everything about it wrong.
Yeah, pop culture is meant to have broad appeal. It doesn’t make you a sophisticate to like it. It also doesn’t make you cringe or mean you have bad taste, and it doesn’t mean that pop culture is inherently poorly constructed.
Pop culture is the Reese’s peanut butter cup of the world. Liking it is not groundbreaking. It’s made to be easily liked. Disliking it may make you the minority but it doesn’t make you more correct or special—it just means your taste diverges from most people’s on the topic of chocolate and peanut butter. If you go to a nice restaurant, you won’t expect to see Reese’s peanut butter cups on the dessert menu—you’d expect the chef to make something themselves, ideally with better ingredients and a more complex flavor profile. If people act like there’s no difference between Chef So-and-So’s chocolate torte with raspberry-thyme coulis and a Reese’s peanut butter cup in terms of quality, they’re either not very sophisticated or just flat out willfully obtuse.
But it’s also wrong to say we can’t talk about pop culture seriously if we want to. Perhaps you didn’t explicitly say it was, OP, but generally people equate bad, vulgar, cringe taste with things not worth spending time or mental energy on, and I’m frankly very strongly against that. Things that are broadly popular are useful on a number of vectors. They can tell us things about what broad swathes of people care about, how viewpoints are changing, what people’s power fantasies and aspirations are. And even if they’re just the equivalent of a silly little piece of candy, they can be well made for what they are. Sweet velvety chocolate against the salt and slight graininess of the peanut butter. Just large enough to feel indulgent—for most people it’s most comfortable to eat in 2-3 bites. Melts on the tongue. Sure, I could’ve probably gotten a full paragraph out of Mx Chef’s chocolate torte, and I only got about 3 sentences out of a Reese’s cup, but that’s not really my point.
My point is that yes, some people do seem overly proud of having a diet exclusively of Reese’s peanut butter cups, and I’m guessing that’s what the OP is addressing. But also Shakespeare was lowbrow pop culture. Liszt was a heartthrob musician. Many of our preeminent women writers of the past were published in the equivalent of Better Homes and Gardens or Real Simple. Not every respected contributor to Western culture has come from pop culture—the guy* who wrote “Ode to a Grecian Urn” was not trying to appeal to the lowbrow everyman—but the distinctions are not as sharp as they’re being made out to be here.
You can and in fact should insist on having serious conversations about people who tried to say serious things about the world and humanity in their art. In her essay collection The Death of Adam, Marilynne Robinson writes** an impassioned call to pursuing art and art criticism that approaches ideas expansively and ambitiously, and she ends with the painful phrase, “I miss civilization, and I want it back.” I felt that plea so strongly when I read it 20 years ago, and I don’t want to squash people who want that too. But I’d really, really caution against the arrogance of assuming that just because you don’t personally enjoy something, or you find it gratingly popular, serious discussion of it is not worthwhile. If you wish to pursue an intellectual life, you don’t have to spend all your time in the mud (to introduce a new metaphor at the eleventh hour) but it’s also unwise to ignore everything that grows from it.
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*that said, while I adore Keats, I also find him very silly most of the time
**I wish I could quote more of it but I had to really ruthlessly purge my library before my last move and I can’t find my copy anymore.
not to be vulgar but the point of popular culture is to appeal to the largest swathe of people. if you like popular culture you cannot claim to be special! you cannot be literary or high culture or whatever floating signifier of intellectual sophistication you want because those are defined by their exclusion. sorry. just embrace your cringe and bad taste that's vastly more respectable.
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stephiramona · 2 days ago
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The tale of two cities according to Heiko and Stephi - Part 500
Unbelievable! This is the 500th part of our "Tales"! So Heiko and I thought that something special was needed.
But first of all, we want to thank you. You are fantastic, and without you and your comments, this wouldn't have been the same.
In the past years we have visited each other a few times, and this week we both wrote something about what we think the biggest differences of our hometowns are.
Let's start with Heiko's text and the photo (the first one) he took in Munich:
Today is our 500th Tale, which is pretty unbelievable. Yet, I admit that we are repeating ourselves a lot when it comes to the seasons (watch our for Christmas time) and we might even have repeated ourselves in some subjects. Still, we are doing the Tales for almost 10 years, a feat neither Stephi nor myself would have ever thought we would accomplish.
We also visited the other person’s city a couple of times and there are some differences about them. Picking out one, I would say that Munich is just bigger and you really need some time to explore the city. It just looked vaster to me. It seemed that you always need e tram or train to get to another spot. In Cologne, on one of Stephi’s trip, we went on foot and within a couple of hours I was able to show her the heart of the city with some of the most important places. I admit that if we took a tram, we would have been able to see other spots as well that are not in the center but more on the fringes, but you can spend a couple of days in Cologne by foot and see a lot of great and important places. I never had that feeling in Munich as the tourist attractions and other cool places were further apart.
Basically, you can spend a day in Cologne and see a lot of the city. I don’t think that would have been able in Munich. Yet, it’s well worth to spend more days in Cologne and go into some local pubs to get to know the people of the city and it’s flair. That will pass you by when you are only in the center that is usually crowded with tourists.
Another difference are the temperatures I experienced. Today it was cold and windy in Cologne. But I have never felt temperatures like on that trip in January 2017. That was cold and could have served as my own personal hell.
My picture from Munich is from that cold January trip and I am trying to show the vastness of the city.
Other things are petty similar though. I have seen some cool parks in Munich in which people hang out. The same is true for Cologne.
Since I spend most time with Stephi and Pete (and Fern on one trip), I didn’t get know other people from Munich. But according to Stephi, the people are pretty cool and open minded, other than the impression you get from Bavarian’s politicians and the way people vote. Cologne also praises itself for being open minded and I usually find that to be true.
I could probably go on for a while but I still want to thank you for sticking with us, reading our Tales and responding from time to time. I rarely respond but I really do appreciate your comments and feedback, read and enjoy it. Thank you all very much.
Now to my text and the photo I took in Cologne:
I think, Cologne and Munich are both great but very different cities. During my visits to Cologne, I was most impressed by the cathedral and the river Rhine. We inhabitants of Munich love our cathedral but - if I'm honest - the "Frauenkirche" isn't very impressive. At least not as impressive as the "Kölner Dom". Munich has a sweet little river, the Isar. It's nice for swimming and for spending some quality time. The river Rhine is way bigger and more impressive, but it's not a good idea to swim in it. I guess, you can't have everything. In my opinion, both rivers belong to the highlights of our respective hometowns, but in a different way.
Munich is close to the mountains and has beautiful surroundings. If you ever visit Munich you should take the time to visit the surroundings as well. Munich and Cologne look very different but the biggest differences for me are the people. When I was in Cologne, I found the citizens so nice, and refreshing, funny, and honest. During my first visit to Cologne, I took a taxi and the taxi driver wasn't only funny, he even wanted to share his breaktime snack with me and offered some radishes. I can't imagine something like that happening in Munich. Munich's citizens are more stiff and not as open as the ones of Cologne are.
Have you ever visited both cities? What do you think are the most differences of our hometowns?
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