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jalapeno-princess · 4 years ago

Text

According To Him

CEO Mark X Reader

Genre: THE FLUFFIEST OF FLUFF I HAVE EVER WRITTEN (with some mentions of sex) (God how do I write about things I have never and probably will never experience I am so sad)

Word Count: 6.5K

Summary: Being in such a high position at one of the biggest tech companies in the country on top of attending college full time can be a lot to handle. You’ve never thought highly of yourself and there were days that you felt like giving up because the workload was too hard. You also were extremely insecure over every single thing about yourself. However, there is one person who makes you feel like the most beautiful, hard working and deserving person in the entire world--the CEO of the company you work at and the man of your dreams, Mark Tuan.

A/N: (GUESS WHOSE BACK, BACK AGAIN IN LESS THAN A WEEK) IT’S ME WITH ANOTHER STORY but this time it’s adorable, endearing, full of love and laughter and everything I wish was going on in my life but no, I’m seconds away from a mental breakdown every single day. This is based off of Ariana Grande’s new song “POV” and honestly as soon as i heard the song I knew I had to write an imagine based on it it’s sooooo good I wish someone made me feel that way dude why can’t I have a boyfriend like Mark in this story (Or just Mark in general) Please enjoy! (And cry with me)

It's like you got superpowers Turn my minutes into hours You got more than 20/20, babe Made of glass, the way you see through me You know me better than I do Can't seem to keep nothin' from you How you touch my soul from the outside Permeate my ego and my pride

I wanna love me (ooh) The way that you love me (ooh) Ooh, for all of my pretty and all of my ugly too I'd love to see me from your point of view I wanna trust me (trust me) The way that you trust me (trust me) Oh, 'cause nobody ever loved me like you do I'd love to see me from your point of view

“If we want to build stronger relationships with our hundreds of clients in order to get them to prolong their contracts with us, I suggest that we increase the amount of stocks that we invest in to each of their companies and find more sponsors to help get the attention of the public—maybe we could start putting ads on television or on the radio?”

If there was anything you hated about your job, it was public speaking. For someone who graduated with her master’s degree in communications with double minors in criminal justice and journalism, one would think you were great when having to speak to a large group of people—but no. Your entire body along with your voice was shaking profusely and you felt as if you were about to throw up. If it wasn’t for the devastatingly handsome man whose been sneaking cheeky winks and a few grins in your direction here and there in order to calm your racing heart, then you would have blew the entire thing.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea y/n. A lot of people listen to the radio nowadays and television can get the attention of those who don’t drive or use cars as transportation. What does everyone else think?”

If Mark wasn’t there, you were sure your heart would have jumped out of your chest. He actually wasn’t supposed to be there; he had a couple of meetings he had scheduled months beforehand, but when he found out that the members of the board were having a meeting and you were expected to be involved in it while presenting your ideas on how the company you were currently working for could expand throughout the United States and maybe even outside of the country, he cancelled every single meeting with the intention of giving you moral support.

No matter how much you tried to reject his offer, not wanting to get in the way of his other responsibilities—you’d be lying if you said you weren’t extremely happy that he was there. His presence was undoubtedly calming; no matter wherever the two of you were, whether it was a board meeting, a company dinner or more relaxing and romantic places like the beach or on vacation in Europe, Mark could always bring you serenity.

You looked around hesitantly in attempts to prevent Mark from seeing the blush he caused rise upon your cheeks from gazing at you and because you were genuinely curious about what your colleagues had to say about your brainstorm. When you saw a hand raise—particularly by a specific someone you weren’t all too fond of in your workplace, you wanted to let out a disgusted groan, but you refused to stoop to her level nor did you want any of your coworkers thinking you were rude.

“Don’t get me wrong, that is a decent idea—but I know there are other things we can do that would better benefit the company without having to waste money on unnecessary ad sales. With all due respect sir, I don’t think it’s fair for you to show favoritism towards y/n just because she’s your girlfriend.”

If you weren’t surrounded by fifteen other people, you were sure you would have leaped across of the table and socked her in the face. There were at least 1,000 people employed at the company you were working at and although you haven’t met every single person, you genuinely liked all the employees you did get the chance to get introduced to. However, there was only one person in particular that you honestly could do without and she just so happened to feel the need to speak up against you because she loved making you look stupid—especially in front of Mark.

From the day you met her, Megan never seemed to care about you even if you were nothing but nice and friendly to her. You didn’t care though—you were there to work, not to worry about someone who dislikes you. But you didn’t do anything wrong for her to treat you as if you were scum of the earth. Every time you would walk past her desk, she would glare at you and during meetings like these that unfortunately she had to attend, she would always plot against you.

You overheard a conversation between two colleagues in the bathroom one day about how Megan felt as though Mark might have taken a liking to her and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Your boyfriend had no clue about the way she treated you so rudely; you didn’t like starting unnecessary drama, but you were sure he caught on to her hostility—she wasn’t very vague about it.

As the days went on though, you only grew more and more irritated with her and it was getting harder for you to bite back your tongue and prevent yourself from saying how you truly felt about her. It didn’t matter that your boyfriend just so happened to be the CEO of the tech company you’ve been working at for almost three years now; if you were to physically attack someone or instigate a fist fight, there was nothing he could do if she were to press charges—well other than bail you out—but that wouldn’t look too good for him as one of the youngest and most successful CEOs in the country.

Your boyfriend Mark just so happened to take over his father’s company right after the elder man decided to retire just a year after you began working there. You were an intern at the company for a couple of months before Mark’s dad offered you a permanent job; stating that you were one of the best interns he’s ever had—that you were extremely responsible, hard working, dedicated to your craft, passionate about your education and just an all around kind of person.

The Tuan family’s company was a very fast paced working environment. Nine hours would pass by faster than you could even comprehend only because you were constantly doing something. You’d be lying if you said your life didn’t get stressful every now and then—managing both college and a full-time job wasn’t the easiest thing to do; especially since you were a double major. But you did your best to stay on top of school and work. You were introduced to Mark one day by his father when he told you that he wanted the two of you to work together in order to build a healthy work relationship seeing as how he wanted you to be his son’s go to person.

Mr.Tuan trusted you the most out of every single person working at his company; so it was only natural for him to want you to show his son the same support that you’ve shown him.

Mark was nothing short of a gentleman when you first met him—he never used his position or the fact that he was the heir to the company to get what he wanted or to intimidate anyone of the employees in anyway. In fact, sometimes you’d forget that his family owned the company and that he was supposed to take over his dad’s position seeing as how he blended in so well with everyone else. He allowed you to show him the ropes; even if his father was the CEO and this company has been in his family for over four generations, he himself has never really been involved in what went on at the company.

His parents wanted him to enjoy his life and do whatever it was that he wanted to do before having him take on such an important and tiresome role. Mark was such an amazing listener and he seemed to be very eager to learn. He complimented you on how dedicated and how hard working you were and he was very grateful that his dad had someone working for him who cared for the success of their company as much as he did.

There was a point where you spent almost every minute that you were at work with Mark and you honestly weren’t complaining. You loved his presence and enjoyed how happy he made you. Although he wasn’t a man of many words, his actions spoke for him. He’d open every single door for you, pulled out your chairs, carried the things you would need for meetings, held your bag as you paid for coffee—hell, he even started to take over every bill that you had whether it was for food, drinks or just your necessities.

At first, you assumed that he was only being nice as a way to no verbally thank you for helping him out—but with the way he would look at you with a certain glint and sparkle in his eyes, and the way he would try and touch you every now and then, whether it was bringing back some of your hair behind your ear, pulling you on the inside as the two of you walked on the sidewalk or playfully poking your cheek if he noticed you falling asleep from how exhausted you were, people didn’t do that to just anybody.

It was obvious he felt comfortable around you and you knew it was a stretch to feel this way, but you were secretly hoping that he saw you as more than just a colleague. You knew you were screwed from the moment he was assigned to work under you—Mark had to be the handsomest man you’ve ever seen in your entire life. He had the most well-defined features; the prettiest brown eyes, a sharp and pointy nose, prominent cheek bones and the softest, heart shaped lips.

You’d find yourself staring at his lips during meetings or when the two of you would get lunch together and you always wondered what it would be like to feel them against yours. Only after a month, your partnership with Mark grew more flirtatious. He would always playfully tease you and make jokes in attempts to make you laugh when he could tell you were stressed; he also complemented you every single day about how beautiful he thought you were and how your laugh had to be the prettiest and most contagious sound in the world. You’d observe the way he would act around the other employees to see if the way he interacted with you was just him being friendly—but he hardly ever talked to anyone else unless he had to for business purposes.

It made you feel special in a sense that maybe—just maybe Mark had developed some kind of romantic feelings for you as you quickly did with him. One night, Mark took you out to dinner as a way to thank you for all you’ve done for him so far and the night went along perfectly. Conversation flowed so easily between the two of you and you found out that you had so much in common with the older boy. Your sense of humors were the exact same and you both were very generous when it came to helping out the less fortunate.

You didn’t think much of him offering to drop you home, you just assumed he wanted to make sure you made it in to your apartment safely. Once the two of you pulled up to your complex, he insisted on walking you to your door. You didn’t really expect anything once you were to reach the front door—you planned on thanking him for such an amazing night and for taking you home.

To your surprise, he tugged on your wrist and pulled you in to his chest before connecting your lips together in a sweet kiss. His lips were so soft and tasted like bubblegum—he lowered his hands to your waist while licking on your bottom lip, ultimately bringing it in between his teeth. The two of you made out for a couple of minutes until Mark abruptly pulled away. Right as you were about to whine at the loss of his lips against yours, he hid his face in the crook of your neck and giggled softly.

“I like you y/n—a lot more than I’d like to admit actually. If I’m being honest, I think it might be more than that. I’ve liked you from the minute my dad had me shadow you and if I’m being honest, I kind of hinted towards wanting to be partnered up with you because I witnessed how amazing your work ethic is and I’ve admired how intelligent and talented you are. I think my dad talks more highly about you than he does me and I can see why—you’re wonderful y/n. These last few weeks with you has been some of the best moments of my entire life. You make me so happy. I would have never thought that I would actually enjoy going to work as much as I do and it’s specifically because I want to see you. Would you—um—maybe want to be my girlfriend? I totally understand if you don’t want to and please don’t feel as if you have to reciprocate my same feelings because I’m going to be your boss or because you feel bad—“

You didn’t allow him to say anything else before you roughly smashed your lips back up against his. Now that you knew how it felt like to kiss him—something you’ve been dreaming about for quite some time now, you would never get enough of having his lips meld perfectly in unison with yours.

“I like you too Mark. You don’t understand how happy I am—I’m sure you’ve caught me stealing glances at you every now and then. I would doze off sometimes and dream about what it would be like to be the lucky girl who gets to love you and be loved by you. I would love to be your girlfriend. If you don’t have to go yet, did you maybe want to uh—come inside for some coffee?”

He beamed at you and nodded in excitement—it didn’t take a genius to know that coffee was not at all going to be involved in the nights festivities and he couldn’t care less. He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t dreamt about being intimate with you and getting to see you naked and bare—writhing underneath him while begging him to do anything to soothe the fire building inside of you. It’s happened on many occasions and he isn’t embarrassed to say a lot of his wet dreams were caused by you. As soon as you both made your way inside, he pressed you up against the door and began leaving sloppy kisses on the expanse of your neck and chest while whispering sweet nothings against your jaw.

That entire night was spent relishing in your newfound relationship in your bed, in the shower, on the counter and up against your fridge. From that night on, the two of you were inseparable—it wasn’t much of a change from your usual time spent together other than him being even more clingy and touchier now that the two of you were a couple. Plus, you got to see him on the weekends which was a bonus—even if you spent almost ten hours a day every single day with him, it was never enough.

Both you and your boyfriend decided to keep your relationship a secret from everyone at the company to prevent people from talking negatively of you or assuming that you were only dating Mark for beneficial reasons which was far from the truth. You didn’t think it was possible for Mark to be an even more amazing boyfriend than he was a business partner, but he proved you wrong entirely. He was so shy and soft whenever it came to you.

Although he practically hovered over your tiny frame, the older boy would follow you around like a lost puppy. He would show up to your apartment every morning and take you with him to work so you didn’t have to worry about transportation. He would also wait until you were finished with work if he just so happened to end earlier that you did in order to take you home. If Mark was anything, it was extremely observant.

It took him less than a week to learn your coffee order, he’d purchase all kinds of things for you while he’d go grocery shopping, he would buy you bags and clothes that he thought would look amazing on you, he would write you cute little post it notes and stick it all around your desk and if you were to catch a cold or if you weren’t feeling all too well, he’d take off from work in order to help nurse you back to health—in more ways than one. You never thought you would ever be able to experience the love Mark was giving to you.

You’ve only ever been in two actual relationships before him. Other than that, you were the type of person who enjoyed to fool around. Whenever you and your friends would go out to clubs and bars, you’d find yourself getting drunk and taking someone home whose name you’d never got around to learning. If you were being honest, you never thought you would ever be in a long term relationship before.

Your parents divorced when you were only two years old and it seemed like most of the adults you were surrounded with just so happened to be divorced also. Love was a foreign word to you—you never believed love could exist. Everything you’ve seen in movies was fake; all these shows and books about men who would give their lives for their significant others, you thought it was complete and utter bullshit. You ended up breaking up with both your boyfriends because you were afraid of getting your heart broken.

It wasn’t like either of them really made you feel loved or genuinely cared for in the first place, so breaking up with them didn’t hurt as much as you expected to. That all changed the minute you found yourself falling in love with Mark. Time and time again, you told yourself you would never allow yourself to make such a stupid mistake—nor did you want to give your heart, mind, spirit and just yourself entirely away to someone who would only break your heart and leave you like it is the easiest thing do to.

For years, you’ve put up this barrier around your heart and kept every single person out of it. However, you didn’t know how he did it—but Mark knock down your walls and made you want to fall in love with him. Even before you really got to know him and how he was as a person, you know you could trust him. You wanted to give yourself a chance at love; it’s what you deserved. You couldn’t keep running away from something so good—or someone who obviously loved you more than life itself just because you didn’t want them to hurt you.

The way he took care of you—even if you weren’t necessarily aware of it; the way he looked at you with so much adoration and happiness, the way he would talk so highly about you to everyone he surrounded himself with made it all the more clear that you must have meant a lot to Mark and you weren’t going to let anything or anyone for that matter get in the way of experiencing what true love felt like. Not once in your relationship with Mark did you ever have to worry about getting hurt—you knew that man loved you with his entire being. He never failed to show you or tell you every single day and sometimes you had a hard time accepting that someone could love you so much in the way Mark evidently did.

Mark Tuan had to be the best thing that has ever happened to you and you were never going to take him for granted. He was the man you knew you wanted so badly to spend the rest of your life with—there was nobody in this world that you loved or could ever love more than you did with him. He captivated your heart in ways you didn’t believe was possible. Honestly, there were times where you felt as though he deserved better.

You didn’t think all that highly of yourself; sure you had a pretty high position at his company for someone who was only 21-years-old and you were obviously well educated, but you weren’t very sociable nor did you think you were as street smart as you were book smart. You also never considered yourself to be attractive; you’d stare at yourself in the mirror ever now and then and picked out a lot of your features that you didn’t like about yourself.

There were days that you thought everything about you was ugly; your teeth were crooked, your eyebrows were bushy, you had chubby cheeks, you were on the more curvy side—you had thick thighs, decent sized breasts and your butt was on the bigger side, but you also had big hips and your stomach wasn’t as flat as you wish it would be. On many occasions, you found yourself growing jealous of a few of the employees at the company because a lot of them were so pretty and had petite, dainty bodies.

No matter how many times your boyfriend would remind you on a daily basis that he thought your body was so beautiful and that he was completely obsessed with each and every curve, beauty mark and birth mark scattered along your skin, your insecurities never failed to get the best of you and you’d always tell yourself that he probably wanted someone with the body of a model. However, you would observe Mark just as much as he did with you; he never batted an eye at any other girl—even when he talked to one of your colleagues, he seemed so disinterested and it made your heart flutter.

You wanted nothing more than to be content with the fact that your boyfriend only had eyes for you, but it was only natural for you to feel as though you weren’t good enough for him. There was an insult on the tip of your tongue; you wanted to ask her what she had in mind and hoped that it was worse than your idea so she would look like a complete dumbass, but luckily—Mark beat you to it.

“Decent? I think you mean brilliant—and no Megan, I do not allow my personal affairs to conflict with my work ethic. I genuinely like y/n’s idea and I would support her even if we weren’t dating. Do you have any better ideas?”

You didn’t have to confess anything out loud; Mark could read your body language like it was a picture book. He knew you better than he knew himself and even better than you knew yourself. With the way you tightened your fists and clenched your jaw, he knew you were seconds away from reaching across the table and pulling on Megan’s hair and if he was telling the truth—he was all for it. Your boyfriend knew all about your ill-relationship with the older girl—he wasn’t blind. Your mood was always quick to change from excited and bubbly to quiet and visibly annoyed whenever she came around.

He wasn’t the kind of person to press you for information if you didn’t want to flat out tell him yourself. He did wish you would tell him though; he wanted to know everything that was bothering you or things that made you upset—if there was anything Mark loathed, it was seeing you sad. His sole purpose was to make sure you were constantly happy, healthy and living the best life possible.

As a CEO, he couldn’t fire her for the reason that she was tormenting you; there was no evidence. But as your boyfriend, he could use his title against her and he always used that to his advantage—to protect you. You had to bite your lip to prevent yourself from laughing at the sight of her now defeated demeanor.

“No sir.” Mark sent you a cheeky wink before clapping his hands together and getting up from his seat.

“What does everyone else think about the radio station and television commercial ad idea?” Everyone around you nodded their heads in agreement and some even gave your boyfriend a thumbs up—you weren’t one to boast nor did you particularly find contentment in proving others wrong unless they deserved it and Megan definitely deserved the shade your boyfriend gave her.

“Good, then it’s settled. If anyone has any better ideas—then feel free to bring it to the next meeting. But until then, we’ll go along with what y/n pitched and take it from there. I have some phone calls I have to make, so I’ll be taking my leave. Good job everyone.” Mark bowed to the entire table and quickly made his way towards the door but not before walking over to you and gently squeezing your shoulder.

“No rush, but can you come to my office once you wrap things up here? I want to talk more about your idea.”

You nodded in agreement even if you knew that you and your boyfriend would only briefly go over what was brought up in the meeting before doing something you both shouldn’t do in a work environment. The meeting only lasted for a couple of minutes after Mark had left—all the employees in attendance were extremely supportive of what you came up with and you couldn’t have been more thrilled and grateful with their responses.

Right after you adjourned the meeting, you made a beeline for Mark’s office; not wanting anyone—specifically Megan to keep you from your boyfriend any longer. When you noticed her approaching, you quickened your pace and made sure she was no longer tailing you once you reached Mark’s door. You knocked gently and waited patiently for him to invite you in and as soon as he called out for you to enter, you made your way inside and gave him no time to process your movements before flopping on to his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. A soft giggle fell from his lips as he brought his hands down to your waist and held you tightly against his body.

“You’re amazing and I love you. Thank you baby.” His laughter filled the room—going straight to your chest and making warmth rise upon your cheeks. For someone who was only three years away from turning thirty, he had the most adorable, high pitched laugh that you knew could light up any room he was in.

“You’re the one whose amazing and I meant what I said—your idea is brilliant. Almost as brilliant as you my love. You never cease to amaze me. Did you see the look on Megan’s face when I indirectly called her out? That shit was priceless I wish I got it on camera. By the way—why didn’t you tell me about how she acts towards you earlier? I’m not stupid y/n, I know there must be some kind of animosity between the two of you and I know you’re not the cause of it. You know you can trust me with these things. What else does she do to you? Nobody treats my baby so unfairly and can expect me not to do anything about it.”

You brought your hand up to his cheek and cupped it ever so gently before placing a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. He smiled softly against your lips and stole a couple more kisses before leaning back in his chair in order to get a better look at you.

“I didn’t want to bother you with something I can handle on my own. I’m a big girl Mark and I don’t let shit like that bother me. I don’t know why she acts like this, I didn’t do anything to her—and I don’t want everyone here to think that I’m not capable of fighting my own battles and that I have to have my boyfriend use his power to fight them for me. I’m sure a lot of employees gossip to each other about our relationship—“

“Who cares what anyone says? Our relationship is nobody’s business but our own. I just—I’m sorry, hearing her try to make you seem so small—so incapable of great things pissed me the fuck off. You’re the hardest worker we have in this entire company and I’m not just saying that because you’re the love of my life. I’m saying it because I’ve watched you work your ass off for the last four years taking on overtime, flying all around the world to meet with and make business with all these important companies, staying up all night to study for exams only to come in the next morning like you weren’t exhausted at all. You are an ethereal being baby. You’re otherworldly and I just can’t stop looking at you in astonishment. I hope you know Megan and every other girl who acts that way towards you is just jealous of you and I don’t blame them. I mean, just look at you.”

The tears were hot as they built up at the brim of your eyelids. This happened almost every single day. Mark had a habit of going in to detail about the love he had for you and how wonderful he thought you were and you were never prepared to hear his complements and sweet words.

“I don’t know what they would be jealous about Mark. Like you said, look at me—“

“I am looking at you. I can’t seem to stop looking at you. All I ever want to do for the rest of my life is look at you and admire you for the extraordinary human being that you are. You are the most beautiful girl in the world, I’m being completely honest y/n. You are so fucking gorgeous, I can’t even form your beauty in to words. You’re honestly God’s favorite and definitely mine. I hate that you think so negatively about yourself when I think the world of you. I know there’s no such thing as a perfect person but damnit y/n, you come very close. I really don’t know what I did to deserve you—and yes, I know what you’re thinking and you can just get rid of the thought that you’re not good enough for me out of your mind completely. Y/n, you are the best thing to ever happen to me—I mean that wholeheartedly. All my life, I felt as though something was missing but I could never put my finger on it. When I met you, everything changed and it just clicked. You were my missing puzzle piece—you’ve brought so much love and light in to my life and I’m forever thankful for being blessed with you to be my person.”

You allowed the tears to fall from your eyelids and a small sob left your throat leading Mark to laugh against your jaw while bringing you closer to his chest. He began to run his fingers through your hair and left a few gentle kisses all around your face.

“God Mark, I don’t know what I did to deserve you but I would do it again and again—I would lead and fight an entire world war if it meant getting to be the person you love in each and every single lifetime. I can’t even—I know I tell you that I love you every single day but I can’t help to feel as though it’s not enough. I wish there was more I could say or do to show you just how much I truly, deeply and irrevocably love you, how you mean the entire world to me and how I would be completely nothing without you. I wish I could see myself the way you see me—from your point of view. I want to trust and believe in myself the way you do. I wish I could love myself, the way you love me. I’m trying to learn to love myself because I know you worry about me and I don’t want you to anymore. I want to make you proud Mark—“

“You do make me proud y/n—every single day. I know you want to keep us a secret for reasons I have yet to understand—I’m sure now it has to do with people like Megan, but you shouldn’t care about what anyone thinks about you other than yourself and me. I think you’re the most astounding person I have ever met. It’s okay if you never learn to love yourself baby—I love you enough for the both of us and I will spend the rest of my life reminding you just how much of a wonderful, amazing, beautiful both on the inside and out and extremely sexy woman you are.”

He stole a few sloppy kisses from the corner of your mouth and began grazing your cheek feather lightly.

“You don’t have to do anything more to prove your love for me, I feel it in my heart. You’re the reason it beats by the way. You keep my blood rushing and my veins pumping. I would give up anything and everything—this job, my family, my friends, hell I would even give up my PlayStation 5 for you and that says a lot baby. You’re all I could ever want and need in my life. Now, if you want to show me some gratitude for loving you so much and for being your backbone today, maybe you could help me fix the problem in my pants that you caused as soon as I saw you leave the bathroom this morning wearing this outfit. Did I tell you how breathtakingly beautiful and devastatingly sexy you look right now? You know what was so hard for me—well, other than my painfully hardened erection, but it was seeing you in this skirt and blouse—watching you tell everyone of your plans with so much confidence and observing the way all the men in there were looking at you with desire in their eyes and not being able to walk up to you and kiss you with all my energy. I would have fucked you right there on the table if I could. But now that we’re both on lunch break—I’m all for eating you out right now. Lunch with a view sounds amazing and I’m not talking about the cityscape babe.”

You playfully shoved him while attempting to get out of his embrace but he wasn’t having any of it and tightened his grip around your waist if it was even possible. “Mark, we can’t have sex right now, everyone is going to find out what we’re doing. You and I are not exactly the quietest people when we have sex—“

He gave you the most adorable pout before bringing his lips right under your ear and nibbling tenderly—trying to get a rise out of you. “Why not? We’ve made love in here many times y/n. I daydream about the multiple times I fucked in to you auto against this desk and against the window. The imprint of your breast on the glass is still in the back of my mind. Who cares if they hear? All the more better. I saw the way all the men would let their eyes linger on you a little too long. I think it’s time they are reminded that your bed is spoken for. It’ll also teach anyone in this building not to mess with you. Don’t try to talk me out of it, I know you’re a huge exhibitionist baby. There’s this one particular position that I wanted to try out if you’re okay with it. I’m going to need you to get on all fours and this blouse, as amazing as it looks on you, I want to see these pretty titties bounce for me. Get ready to sing my love—I’m going to make sure everyone on this floor knows whose the boss in more ways than one.”

I'm getting used to receiving Still getting good at not leaving I'ma love you even though I'm scared Learnin' to be grateful for myself You love my lips 'cause they say the Things we've always been afraid of I can feel it starting to subside Learnin' to believe in what is mine

I wanna love me (ooh) The way that you love me (ooh) Ooh, for all of my pretty and all of my ugly too I'd love to see me from your point of view I wanna trust me (trust me) The way that you trust me (trust me) Ooh, 'cause nobody ever loved me like you do I'd love to see me from your point of view

I couldn't believe it Or see it for myself Know I be impatient But now I'm out here fallin', fallin' Frozen, slowly thawing, got me right I won't keep you waitin', waitin' All my baggage fadin' safely (baggage fadin') And if my eyes deceive me Won't let them stray too far away

I wanna love me (ooh) The way that you love me (ooh) Ooh, for all of my pretty and all of my ugly too I'd love to see me from your point of view I wanna trust me, ooh (trust me) The way that you trust me, baby (trust me) 'Cause nobody ever loved me like you do I'd love to see me from your point of view, yeah

#got7 imagines #mark tuan #got7 #mark tuan imagines #mark tuan got7

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braincoins · 4 years ago

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Shallura&Ryoumelle SpaceMall double date!

They watched Coran leave and then the questions came at the same time:

“Does this place even accept Altean currency?” “Who even is this?”

Ryou peered at the bills Coran had insisted upon him.

“We have some GAC,” Romelle assured him. “But I’m pretty sure no one around here takes Altean currency anymore.”

Shiro folded his stack of Altean bills and stowed it away. “Well, we can at least window shop.”

It was Allura’s turn to ask a question. “Why do we need windows?”

“No, it means we can just look at things but not really buy anything.”

“Well, what’s the point of shopping if you’re not going to buy something?” Allura asked in genuine confusion.

“Sometimes it’s just nice to look and daydream,” Romelle said.

“But if you don’t need anything or can’t buy something, then why would you...?”

“Maybe we should split up,” Ryou suggested quickly. “Meet back at the food court in a varga?”

“Does this place have a food court?” Shiro asked.

“It’s a mall; food courts are required.”

“I’m sure there is somewhere to eat,” Romelle agreed. “And appropriate signage to direct us. Let’s go!” And she grabbed Ryou’s hand and hauled him off towards a store that had caught her eye.

“I’m still confused,” Allura protested.

Shiro slung an arm over her shoulders. “Let’s just enjoy the time together away from the ship.”

She smiled. “I think I can do that.”

----------

Ryou and Romelle were already seated at the food court when Shiro and Allura got there. They found them by Romelle’s waving from her seat. Judging by the trays in front of them, they’d already found some lunch.

“Oh my Goddess,” she breathed when Allura set down four bags of shopping. “We didn’t have that much GAC, did we?”

“Don’t tell me you opened a credit account at all these places,” Ryou said, sounding horrified.

“No, no, nothing like that,” Shiro told him. “It turns out there’s a store that, among other things, buys old currency. And the Altean bills Coran gave us are extremely rare and valuable collector’s items.”

Ryou’s eyebrows went up. “I need the name of this store immediately and for you guys to stay here with Romelle.”

She pouted. “Why can’t I come with?”

He blushed. “Because it’s a surprise.”

Shiro chuckled. “Swynwyck’s Surprises, that way, on the left.”

“Thank you!” And Ryou was off like a shot.

“Let me show you what I bought,” Allura said, dutifully falling into distraction mode.

“I’ll get us some food,” Shiro volunteered.

“I want some of whatever they’re selling,” Allura told him, nodding at the busiest of the food vendors. The line was long, but seemed to be moving quickly.

“Coming up, Princess.” He kissed her cheek and went to queue.

Allura pulled out a cute dress and some shoes that went with it, but Romelle noticed she was watching Shiro as she did so. Satisfied at last that he was busy, the lost princess of Altea sidled up to her cousin and whispered, “I also managed to make a few purchases when Shiro wasn’t watching.” She pulled up a bag and opened a smaller bag hiding under a light sweater, letting Romelle peer in.

She whistled quietly. “Oh, he’s going to like you wearing that.”

“Who said I was going to be wearing it?”

They both laughed as Allura hid the purchase away again.

“You really have no idea what it is Ryou’s so intent on buying for you?”

“None. I mean, there were a lot of cute clothes I saw, but I can’t think of anything I was especially fond of. Though there was one store where he was acting kind of... weird. Maybe he found something he wanted to buy for me there?”

“Maybe. I’m very curious myself as to what it might be, so hopefully it’s not anything like...” She nodded towards the bag with its hidden surprise.

Romelle giggled and blushed. “I don’t think he’d let me open it here if that’s the case. What else did you get?”

Allura continued showing off her new acquisitions - mostly clothes, but also a new comtab (for Pidge), an old comtab (for Hunk to take apart and play with, in the hopes that he’d stop taking apart various pieces of the Castle), a new video game for the console that Pidge and Lance had bought on their last trip, and a boot knife for Keith.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to give him more knives?”

“A Paladin must always be prepared,” she said.

“Level with me: You just make up that ‘Paladin Code’ stuff as you need to, don’t you?”

Allura opened her mouth to protest but Shiro had returned with two trays of food and drink, sliding one in front of Allura grandly. “For my princess.”

“Thank you, my paladin,” she replied, patting the chair next to her. “Please do join us.”

He took the proffered seat and closed his eyes to inhale the scent of the food. “Man, this smells almost as good as the stuff Hunk makes.” He dug in with gusto.

Ryou came running back up with a small bag in hand. He all but fell into the chair next to Romelle, but offered her the bag gently. "For you.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she told him as she took the bag. “I’m happy just spending time with you.”

“I know, but... I wanted to. To get you this, anyway. It just... well, open it.”

The bag’s contents were wrapped in tissue paper (or something very like it), and Romelle had to pull that away before she gasped and pulled out a large wrap the color of sunlit grass and hemmed with beautiful butterfly-esque creatures. The whole thing shimmered faintly, but the material, though light, was soft to touch.

“Y-you’ve said before that you get a little chilly some mornings, especially in the spring and autumn, and this just... it reminded me of you.”

Romelle threw her arms around him. “It’s lovely! Thank you so much!” When she released him, she draped it around herself immediately. “It’s so soft!”

“It’s gorgeous, just like you,” Allura told her.

“I think that was supposed to be your line,” Shiro told his brother around a mouthful of food.

“Don’t talk while you’re eating,” Ryou scolded him.

“I want to buy you something, too,” Romelle said. “Maybe something from the Earth store that Allura mentioned.”

“Just don’t get him a cow,” Shiro suggested.

“What’s a cow?”

“You don’t want to know,” Allura said immediately, shoving some food into her mouth as if doing so would wipe the memory from her mind.

“I don’t need anything but more of your smiles,” Ryou told her.

“That’s better,” Shiro said approvingly.

“Shut it or I tell them about the last time you were at a mall.”

Shiro gasped in betrayed outrage. “You wouldn’t.”

“Well, now I want to know,” Allura pouted.

“No, you don’t,” he shot back immediately. “Not if you want me to wear that thing you think I didn’t notice you buying.”

“YOU SAW?”

“I think I don’t want to know now,” Ryou said, but Romelle just giggled.

“Come on, let’s go to the Earth store and leave them to pretend to fight,” she suggested, rising from her seat still wearing the wrap. “You can pick out whatever will make you happiest.”

He was on his feet immediately. “You make me happiest.”

“I’m not for sale.”

“Of course not, you’re priceless.”

She blushed again. “Stop.”

“Maybe when you say that like you mean it.”

#Shallura #Ryoumelle #Socks writes Voltron fanfic #void-tiger

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purplesurveys · 3 years ago

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1264

Who are you subscribed to on YouTube? Oh man, I’m probably subscribed to over a hundred, if not 200. I’ve subscribed to channels relevant to interests I’ve had over the years, and since it’s not my habit to do spring cleaning on my feeds, the subscriptions have just keep piling up even if I no longer keep up with literally like 98% of them.

Do you like to go to the farmer's market? I don’t think I’ve ever been in one yet. They aren’t very common here and the ones we do have are pricey and mostly inaccessible to the everyday consumer, I’m sure.

What will (or was) the color of your wedding dress be? I wouldn’t want any other color than white.

What's your favorite melon? I don’t like fruits.

What was the name of the last pet of yours that died? Arlee. Technically my family mostly considered her as just Nina’s pet, but the sting was felt all the same when we learned she died.

When was the last time you wished the day would just get over with? Yesterday, because it was Friday. Pretty self-explanatory, I wanted to get to the weekend so I can finally let go of work for a couple of days.

Name one person you've never had a fight with: Andi. I think we’re both afraid of pissing the other off, which works out for us lol.

What are you currently listening to? I can just hear the really loud whirring of my electric fan because it’s a grossly humid day today.

What would you rather have: cat or dog? Dogs.

Who is your least favorite person in real life? I have a lot of uncles I just don’t like.

Do you ever watch anybody's live stream of... anything, really? Technically, yeah. I will sometimes tune in to livestreams of lofi music on YouTube, but I do it to listen, not to watch.

Does your house have security cameras? No.

If you go grey as you age, would you dye your hair or let it be? I think I might dye it for a certain period of time, but I also think I would eventually reach the point where I’ll just accept it and slowly let go of the dye.

What was the last establishment you stopped going to due to bad service? What happened? I haven’t run into much bad service, but I’ll never forget how long my order and bill took for Mad Mark’s. I never really vowed per se to never go back there again and I definitely didn’t confront the staff, but I haven’t eaten there since that incident.

What soundtrack do you listen to the most? Not a big soundtrack listener.

Was there a family secret you weren’t told about until you were an adult? Nah, they’re kept from us until now. The biggest one I’ve heard about was having a kleptomaniac in the family but we were never told who it is.

Do you have an opinion most people you meet seem to disagree with you? Yeah, my dislike for fruits.

What’s something you like to have many options to choose from? Clothes, I guess, like bucket hats. I don’t shop a lot and clothes aren’t a priority in my budget, so when I do pick out clothes, it has to be exactly what I want so that I don’t feel it was a waste of money.

What’s the strangest decorative object you own? We have several quirky, disconnected decor in the living room from gifts we’ve acquired over the years. One object I can tell you about is the polar bear glass figurine we have on the coffee table.

What’s a thing you couldn’t imagine doing with your life right now? Dating around.

What’s been your proudest moment? Managing to stay alive this year and turn my life around for the better when I thought there was no hope.

What’s the filthiest non-pornographic movie you’ve seen? Eyes Wide Shut, probably.

Do you know anyone who doesn't seem to be fond of animals? I don’t think so. Like any animal...? I would find that quite odd, honestly. And I wouldn’t want to be friends with them if we weren’t already close .

Are you planning any outings or trips anytime soon? Whereabouts? No, nothing set in stone. I do want to fly out to South Korea soon, though.

Do you know anyone who has a phobia of a certain animal? I know a few people who are afraid of dogs.

Is there a particular brand of technology/electronics that you prefer? Yeah, Apple.

Is there a singer whose voice gives you goosebumps/chills? Hayley Williams and Jin, especially when he’s belting; and I don’t listen to her much, but I find that Billie Eilish has a unique voice that sounds really nice.

And is there a singer whose voice you simply can't stand? Selena Gomez for some of her songs, Meghan Trainor for most of her songs.

Are there any authors that are particularly dominant on your bookshelf? No.

Have you seen any photographs or videos that made you smile today? Sure.

Which item in your fridge are you most looking forward to consuming? My aunt sent over this gigantic-ass slab of salmon that I can’t wait to eat as sashimi. I already had a few pieces last night and it was hea ven ly.

Has anyone you know got into a new relationship lately? Hmm, I don’t think so. I know my coworker Dev got into a relationship a few weeks ago but it fizzled out as soon as it started because the guy was shitty.

If you menstruate, do you experience much PMS prior to it? Only on the emotional side; I rarely get physical symptoms. I usually feel down or emotionally heavy a few days before my period.

Have you ever had a tattoo covered up or added to? No, I don’t have any tattoos. Can you remember the last time you had a sudden change of mind? Hmm, like last night. I wanted to stay up to maximize the weekend, buuuut I decided against it and slept instead since I had been up since 2 in the morning.

When was the last time you did something on a whim? Two weeks ago when I impulsively dropped a thousand bucks to have cheese tarts delivered to Angela and Reena, hahaha.

Were you raised by both of your parents? If not, then who raised you? My mom, grandma, and one of my aunts were the main people who raised me. Dad works overseas, so he was never at home much.

Have you ever began a relationship with someone you knew for less than a week? No, I wouldn’t do that.

Has one of your friends ever tried to ‘hook you up?’ Mik tried to pair me with one of his friends just days before I finally implied on social media that I was no longer in a relationship. It was a cool ego boost but I declined, since my emotions were still super turbulent then. Andi tried to initiate sex with me once too, but I also declined.

What is your card game of choice? I hate card games; I can never seem to understand them lmao, though that’s really more of a me problem than anything else.

What is your favourite books series? Growing up, I really loved the Septimus Heap series. But the thing about it was that I got into it while the series was still ongoing; and with how bad my attention span is, I always forgot the events/plot whenever the newest book came out.

So whenever that happened I had to read the entire series from Book 1; eventually the number of books I had to reread/revisit became too many (it was a seven-part series) and I simply just lost the time to read and I never got to know about the conclusion.

Do you prefer landmarks or street names when being given directions? Street names – more precise. Landmarks to me can be pretty subjective – a green building might look blue to me, and I could just end up being lost.

Do you read the prologues in the beginnings of books? Sure.

What was your favourite gym class moment? If I genuinely like or already play the sport that was being taught. That’s why PE table tennis was a lot of fun for me.

Do you think that ocean boardwalks are fun? I’ve never been on one but I imagine they are fun, yeah.

Do you dread when people ask you to sign their yearbooks? That’s not a tradition here.

Do you have a favourite Scooby-Doo movie? No. I was too young for Scooby-Doo in a sense that I do remember watching the movies as a 3/4 year old as they were kept on in the background at home, but I didn’t get any of the plots/didn’t really appreciate the films.

Do you think it’s cute when toddlers try to run away and fall down? Sometimes, yeah. If the fall looked nasty I would obviously be concerned.

Do you enjoy listening to your grandparents tell stories of their past? Honestly, only one of my grandparents would be the type to do this but he’s been dead for six years now. It’s a big shame he passed before I could bond with him the way I had always wanted to. My three other grandparents are either too closed off or too quiet to share stories from their youth.

Do you have a crush on someone? Nah, nothing more than a celebrity crush.

If so... what does his/her name begin with?

What attracts you to them?

Do they know that you like them?

If they don't know, why didn't you tell them?

Name two people that you miss: Angela and Laurice.

Have you ever seen Titanic? More times than I can count. I’m sure I memorize like 80% of the script, too.

Have you ever swam with dolphins? No. I’m not so sure if I’ve seen dolphins, either. Maybe I have? Or maybe I’m confusing it with whales...idrk.

When was the last time you had a stomachache? Wednesday.

What's going to bed early for you? 11 PM or midnight.

Do you want to have a big family in the future? I used to, but I don’t think that’s the future I want anymore. One or two kids should be okay.

What was the last thing you did that gave you a rush? Technically speaking, an orgasm, I guess?? Lmao idk

Favorite Nicholas Cage movie? I don’t think I have one.

Have you had your Covid vaccine yet? Which one, if you have? Yeah, I’m fully dosed. Sinovac.

If you've had your vaccine, did you experience any side effects? I was suuuuuuper tired right after my first dose and I wanted to be knocked the fuck out, but I went right back to work after the shot because I am allergic to filing leaves hahaha. Second dose went smoothly.

What's the next item of clothing that you intend to buy for yourself? A bucket hat or maybe one of the Fila x BTS shirts because the collection is actually quite cute!

What Facebook groups have you found the most helpful? I join Facebook groups to be entertained, not because I actively look for advice.

Do you like your butt? Why or why not? Yeah. It...has a good form hahahahahaha.

Have you ever personally been a victim of homophobia? Yes, a few years ago I went to a food park with my ex-girlfriend. I was already not feeling my best that day to begin with, so having to see an old woman stare daggers at us for what felt like years really stung. I felt small under her look and almost cried, but in the end I felt angry that I momentarily felt shame about my relationship. I decided to just piss the woman off on purpose and do PDA right in front of her.

Do you think you’d be happier if you had a pet? I have two dogs at present and I know they make me extremely happy.

Who was the last person you went on a date with? Gabie.

Were you ever hospitalized as a little kid? No. The first and only time I was hospitalized (other than being birthed), I was about 12, I think.

What’s your favorite way to curl your hair? I don’t do that. I rarely style my hair.

At what age did you start swearing? I was 11.

What is something you physically can’t do? Ride a bike.

What do like better, apples or oranges? I don’t like any fruits; but in terms of flavored stuff, I like orange-flavored food, especially chewy candy, slightly more.

Around the holidays, do you hope for snow? Well, no.

What are your top two favorite bands? Paramore and Against Me!

How many people do you 100% trust? There are a handful. I generally trust easily just because I like to believe all people are kind and loyal – but I can also take it away in the snap of a finger.

Do you care what others think about you? Not so much.

Has anyone ever called you a bitch? Sure.

Did you watch Teletubbies when you were younger? Yeah but just super super faint memories. It wasn’t one of my main shows.

Do you have any licenses other than your driver's license? I don’t.

Could you live the rest of your life without eating meat? I doubt it. I could try, but I think I’d get cranky and start looking for meat way earlier than I would like to admit.

Have you ever had a rolling backpack? Yup, if you mean a stroller. I think I’ve answered this on a previous survey.

Did you make any money today? No, because it’s a weekend. What was the highest place you've ever jumped from? Nothing dramatically high. I’ve had acrophobia-themed nightmares in the past, so even though I don’t actually have a fear of heights, the idea of jumping from a high place still makes me antsy.

Have you ever gone swimming in a river? Not that I can recall.

What was the last souvenir someone got you? I dunno if it counts but Andi bought merch from the AEW shop but made sure to also get a CM Punk sticker set for me :(

Do you have a favorite remix of a song? Remixes have never been my thing. What do you think is the most saddest sounding instrument? Piano.

Do you really pay attention to the ratings on movies? Yeah they can definitely affect the level of appreciation I hold towards a film. For instance, if I genuinely enjoyed a movie only to find out it has average to bad reviews, it invites me to think more critically about the movie.

Do you have a favorite species of wild cat (tiger/lion/cougar/etc.)? No.

If you had $500,000, what would you do with it? Give half to my parents and let them do whatever they wish it. With the remaining P12,500,000, I’d probably get myself my own condo and have it fully furnished, then get braces, then get a new phone and laptop. I’ll have a bunch of money still left, I’m pretty sure – the rest of it I’ll save.

Did the last person you touched lips with have a kid? No. I mean, I have honestly no clue what’s going on in her life now, but I know she doesn’t want kids so this is very unlikely.

"First loves are never really over." Is this true for you? It’s true in a sense that she left me a lot of trauma and self-esteem issues that will irrevocably always be a part of me now even though I’ve worked hard to resolved most of them by myself.

Did you like Michael Jackson before he died? Yes, because he has always been my favorite singer’s role model.

What are some things that would make you break up with someone? I don’t know how to answer this question, honestly. All the red flags were thrown and tossed and slapped into my face and down my throat for six years yet I never left. I don’t actually know what my limits are, and I believe it’s because my coping mechanism has to just accept things and suck them up no matter how bad they get. That’s what I’m trying to change for myself now.

What was the worst breakup you've ever had? I’ve had two breakups with the same person, and the second one was worse.

#survey #surveys

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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Ghosts Series 2: ‘They’re stuck in an existence they didn’t ask for… like all of us’

https://ift.tt/35QzhQ6

The Ghosts creators have worked together for over a decade. To-date, the six-person team (Mat Baynton, Simon Farnaby, Martha Howe-Douglas, Jim Howick, Laurence Rickard and Ben Willbond) have written and performed in long-running children’s sketch comedy Horrible Histories, three series of fantasy sitcom Yonderland, feature film Bill, and two series of the supernatural BBC comedy Ghosts, with a third on the way.

Channelling Mrs Merton asking Debbie McGee what first attracted her to the millionaire Paul Daniels, I ask Baynton and Howick via Zoom what inspired the group to write Ghosts, a sitcom about a group of individuals who frequently drive each other nuts, trapped together for what may well be eternity?

Both laugh. “I’m sure we do drive each other nuts in many ways,” says Howick, “but the truth is, like the ghosts, what we always come back to in these episodes is that they love each other and don’t know what they would do without each other. I think that can be said for the group?” He looks to Baynton for confirmation and gets a happy nod.

Considering the well-documented fallings-out and imploding egos of other comedy gangs – the Pythons not least among them – this level of harmony over such a long period feels remarkable. What’s their secret? “I think we keep each other honest,” says Baynton. “There are certainly heated debates.”

Heated’s too strong a word, says Howick. “We only really fight for our opinion, we never fight each other.” On the rare occasion that there isn’t unanimity about a particular topic, there might be a locking of horns and a democratic vote, but real arguments don’t happen. “There’s no animosity or jealousy with each other’s independent careers,” he explains. “We are our most important project. We have no desire to work each other up. We’re all genuinely fond of each other.”

That much is clear watching them interact. The online BBC press launch for series two was punctuated by the group making each other laugh. Silly voices. Running jokes. At one point, to the absolutely delight of his colleagues, Simon Farnaby’s crotch moved unavoidably front and centre as he stood up in front of his webcam to adjust a window blind. The rapport is real.

Indeed, during UK lockdown, say Baynton and Howick, the group’s regular Zoom calls drafting Ghosts series three were a godsend. Aside from the boon of having regular work when so much of their industry was in uncertainty, being able to see friends for three hours on a Wednesday evening kept them sane.

“It’s been a tonic in an otherwise relatively difficult and quite miserable time to have been able to jump on Zoom and make each other laugh with ideas for these characters that we love,” says Baynton. Entertainingly, when the group splits off into writing pairs, each does impressions of the absent characters while drafting dialogue. “It’s funny,” remarks Howick. ‘When we come together as a six, if we’re trying to pitch a positive idea, it’s usually done in a [segues into the regional accent of his upbeat character] Pat voice. Or if it’s a melodramatic idea or if it’s over-the-top, it might be a [Baynton’s Romantic poet character] Thomas voice.”

Via video chat, it took a little longer for the group’s writing wheels to start turning. Ordinarily a new series would start with two weeks of the gang together in the same room. Stretching that to months of three-hour Zoom calls, fitted in amongst home schooling for the parents among them, was an adjustment. “The energy that you would bring to a room at 10 o’clock in the morning in an office wasn’t there,” says Howick. “You’d have to try and generate this feeling even though everyone was exhausted.”

Howick found himself seeking out frivolity to reach the right frame of mind. He played videogames. “If I sat and thought too hard about what was going on outside my door, it would make me really sad, and so in order to keep a vital part of me going, in order to meet with Mat and the others every Wednesday and keep that bright demeanour, it was good to do that.” The writing momentum started to return with the ease of lockdown, says Baynton. “The simple mental health-saving fact of being able to meet up with family in a garden helped a lot.”

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Trying to write comedy against a such a serious backdrop of world events also felt uncomfortable, says Baynton. “You feel like it’s almost… immoral is too strong a word, but when there are nurses and doctors and teachers and crucially important people doing the work they do… It felt like an elephant in the room to be tap tap tapping away at a story about another day at Button House and what the ghosts are up to.”

It helped to know how warmly Ghosts series one had been received by its many fans. “What’s touching is when we do get messages from fans who say how much the show means to them. I know how important comedy has been to me in my life, so if we can be that to other people, it doesn’t feel completely frivolous.”

Ghosts, with its colourful selection box of characters (there’s a caveman, a headless Elizabethan, a 17th century witch, an excitable Regency woman-child, an Edwardian snob, a WWII captain, a 1980s scout leader and a 1990s Tory politician) may look frivolous, but series one had moments of real pathos. Baynton is proud of the fact that the series doesn’t shy away from the bleaker side of its ‘dead people’ premise. “If you really interrogate the truth of it – these are people who lived, people who died, people who loved or were thwarted or killed or suffered injustices or never got to love the person that they admired…”

The original idea was for a much bigger cast of ghosts, with everybody playing multiple parts, Horrible Histories-style. It quickly became clear that the story needed to home in on a small ensemble, giving the gang what Howick calls “its own silhouette”. Had they stuck with the original plan, “It would have been like The Muppet Show,” he says. “Every week would only have scratched the surface.” Too many ghost characters would have diminished the show’s emerging premise, says Baynton, which is about “being stuck forever in a tedious and endlessly repetitive existence.”

A bit like lockdown, we joke. Exactly, says Baynton.

“We talk about this a lot. The way I see it is that their situation is just the same as a living person’s: they’re stuck, they’re in an existence they didn’t ask for, they don’t know why they’re there or what happens next. They know that there is a next ‘thing’ but whether they go to heaven, or hell, or something else, they don’t know. They’re just the same as people on earth.”

Howick agrees, “Their existence is very mortal in that respect.”

Writing about the afterlife, a sense of existential metaphor is unavoidable, says Baynton. “There is something deeply relatable about it, which is where sitcom will always thrive. You can’t really fail to connect with a story about a person who doesn’t know what to do with their time or who feels stuck. Regardless of class or job or circumstance, that is all of us.”

If the ghost characters are all of us, they’re also peculiar to their time period. The collision and unexpected blending of different social contexts is where much of the series’ comedy comes from. Howick compares the composition of the group to Blackadder Goes Forth, which kept “ranks of characters from different classes stuck together in a hell hole, cheating death every single week.”

The source of much of the comedy is thwarted status, says Baynton, “It’s the stuff of Alan Partridge and Hyacinth Bucket and Basil Fawlty… people who see themselves a certain way but who aren’t that way to the audience. Every single one of the ghosts is that to some extent. Anything that gave you status in life, you’re robbed of the second you die, so that’s already pretty funny in the sense of a captain who can’t lead, a wealthy woman who has no wealth, a politician who is not recognised as an authority, a poet who can’t pick up a pen, a Scoutmaster with no kids…”

“Not Scoutmaster!” interrupts Howick. “Adventure Club leader!” Before series one aired, they were instructed not to use the “Scouts” organisation name in scripts. “That was before they knew who Pat was going to be,” says Howick. Pat, for info, is a sweetie, and the Scouts should be proud to have him. He’s also a vibrant dancer, as series two, episode two shows.

“There’s a lot of dancing this series” says Howick. “Without giving too much away, there’s dancing in the last episode. I think Thomas’ best dance is at the end.”

Fans can expect more playfulness with series two. Now that the characters are established and the tone has been taken to heart, the team could afford to experiment a little more. “With series two, because the audience hopefully are with us at this point, we can throw different curveballs,” says Baynton.

“In that way that The Simpsons or those long-running American things, you can suddenly do one in black and white, as if it’s a Hitchcock thing. We’ve definitely had fun. There’s an episode later in the second series which is a format of its own. We’re thinking about those things for series three, being free to be really playful with it.”

There’s a Christmas special episode to come, “the last one ever to be filmed!” joked Farnaby at the press launch. The timing on series two’s filming was especially jammy, with only one day lost to the UK TV and film industry shutdown in March. They made the decision not to use supporting artists in the last scenes filmed, set in a Medieval plague village. The irony of having to tell actors they couldn’t come and play plague victims because there was an actual plague wasn’t lost on them, says Baynton.

Thomas gets a gun in series two, they tease, and we’ll find out how he met his end. “The burning question for fans of the show is how the characters died, and you will find out some in each series,” says Baynton. “There are some we’re holding onto for as long as we possibly can, but rest assured, they’re coming!”

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Ghosts series 2 starts on BBC One at 8.30pm, with all six episodes available to stream afterwards on BBC iPlayer.

The post Ghosts Series 2: ‘They’re stuck in an existence they didn’t ask for… like all of us’ appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2RKeoxw

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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onegayastronaut · 5 years ago

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The Protector (Vinda Rosier x Reader)

Idk if you’ve seen Fantastic Beasts but could you do a Vinda Rosier fic where she falls for a cute muggle reader and is protective over them? Deadly French women are my weakness

A/N: Loving French women....is a forever mood

Words: 1972

Even though Vinda has never liked authority figures, she rather enjoyed working for Grindelwald. Maybe it was the fact that he gave her a blank check to take whatever means necessary to reach the end goal or the cause of wizarding supremacy over the Muggle world, the fact remained that Vinda was enjoying herself. Was what she was doing to Muggles and Mudblood wrong? Sure, but she couldn’t have cared less as to how they feel about her less. All that she knew was that these people were given a gift that was never supposed to be theirs anyway. Magic was only supposed to be practiced by those who are pure, such as herself and those in her group. Everyone else was just in the way of what magic was truly meant to be.

Grindelwald had told her and a few trusted others that the next phase of their plan would occur in London. She had never been fond of the city: people there cared so much for rules, and everyone there seemed so stiff. There’s nothing that puts a damper on things quite like people who think that laws ought to be followed, especially when it came to protecting Muggles. Muggles certainly didn’t care about anyone in the magical world, so it seemed to be pointless for her to take care of them. Besides, if Grindelwald won, Muggles would soon be under the heels of wizards like herself. Now that would be a world worth living in.

Today her mission was to make sure that everything was going according to plan. Grindelwald was hosting a get-together for wizards across London in order to get support across the city, and it was her job to make sure that everything went without a hitch. This included making sure that the Ministry of Magic remained at bay as Grindelwald sought out new followers to the cause.

Her first stop was to return to the residence that she and her fellow followers had taken by force to see if it was still secure. A few steps away from the residence, she stopped in surprise as she saw you waiting outside the door. She quickly walked up and asked, “Who might you be?”

You started in surprise as you heard a voice behind you. When you turned around, you saw a very beautiful woman standing there in a green dress. It seemed as if your language skills were impaired as you tried to find words to explain why you had been standing in front of the building. “I, uh, I, ahem. I’m here because I am the assistant to the owner of this house. He didn’t show up to work this morning and I’m here to see where he is.”

“You sure are a pretty little thing aren’t you?” Vinda stroked your face with her fingers as she looked at you. You were so adorable for a Muggle, she thought. You could feel your face heat up as she continued looking at you, and you attempted to deflect from that by clearing your throat again.

“Would you happen to know where he is, ma’am?”

“No. And call me Vinda. I’m too young to be called ma’am. Alohamora.” Vinda walked in the door with you following closely behind.

“Wait, how did you do that? You don’t have a key!”

“I don’t need one. And it doesn’t matter because you won’t remember how I did that very soon.”

“So does that mean you live here now? What about my boss?”

“Enough with the questions. How about we sit here and talk about something more interesting?” With a flick of her wand, Vinda had a tea kettle boiling and sat down on the couch. She looked at you expectantly as you stared at the moving cups. “Well? Would you like to sit down?”

You sat down hard on the seat opposite her as the cups continued to move. “What -- who are you?”

“My name is Vinda, darling. And I’m a witch.”

You were sure that your eyes resembled saucers at this point, but you were too much in shock to care. “If you’re a witch, why aren’t you wearing a pointed hat?” You realized how stupid the question sounded, but you were too shocked by what was going on around you to care.

“Not all of us wear pointed hats darling. That’s just a misconception we allowed to happen. Drink up, it’s just tea.” You stared at the cup that was swaying in front of your face, but you didn’t move to touch it. “Now, I want to know a little about you. What do you do for work?”

“I work at the law office that Mr. Travers works. It’s a pretty dull job, but it pays the bills and gives me a sense of freedom.” You finally took the teacup into your hands as it was in danger of spilling the tea onto your clothes.

Vinda looked very interested in what you had to say, and she moved to sit next to you. “I want to know more about you.”

For the next few hours, you answered Vinda’s questions about your past. It seemed like she was very interested to know about your life, and even made a few remarks that made you laugh. Finally, it started getting dark out and you excused yourself.

“And where might I see you next?”

“Maybe at the bookstore across the street. I’m often there after work, you’re more than welcome to join me there if you like.”

“Yes, I would like that very much.” Vinda reached inside her dress for her wand but stopped at the last second. Maybe you were different from all the other Muggles she had met. Besides, if you turned out to be as empty-headed as every other Muggle, she could always kill you later.

For the next few hours after you left, Vinda could not stop thinking about you. This went against everything that she believed -- the wizarding world should be kept pure, Muggles and wizardkind should be kept apart at all costs. But the sound of your laughter still lingered in her ears, and whenever you laughed she wanted to laugh too. It was an infuriating feeling, to say the least.

“Vinda, dear, we need to get going.” Grindelwald’s voice jolted Vinda back to the present, and she nodded as she followed the pale wizard out of the residence. She blinked several times. It wasn’t like her to be so unfocused, especially now that Grindelwald had started trusting her with so many things.

-----

It had been two weeks since Vinda had first met you, and she has found herself in front of the bookstore that you had pointed out when you had first met her. It seemed like everyone who worked in an office was starting to go home, so she thought this would be the best time to wait for you to arrive. It didn’t take her long to see you heading in her direction, and she quickly stood up to greet you.

“Hey, Vinda! How are you doing?”

“I wanted to see you. Would you like to join me?” Vinda gestured at the table, and both of you sat down. “I missed talking to you.”

“I was wondering where you went. What have you been doing in the last few weeks?”

“I’ve been here and there. Not much.” Vinda fell silent, and both of you sat together in silence as you watched people on the street walk back and forth.

Throughout the next month or so, meeting in front of the bookstore became a regular thing between you two. However, one day she wasn’t sitting at your usual table, and you decided to wait an hour for her to show up. When she didn’t, you decided to walk back home on your own. As you approached your apartment, you noticed Vinda standing in front of your door. “Vinda? What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.”

“Why?” You were genuinely confused as to why she is would be waiting for you outside of your apartment instead of at your usual place.

“I was busy doing something for my boss today. I wanted to still see you and ask if you would be interested in joining me for a gathering that my fellow wizards and I are hosting tonight.”

“Should I, uh, should I wear anything special?”

“What you’re wearing now is perfectly fine.” Vinda ran her fingers up and down your jacket and gave you a little smile. She reached inside her own jacket and gave you a piece of paper with an address written on it. “I really hope to see you there, (Y/N).”

As you made your way towards the address that Vinda gave you, you couldn’t help but notice that the street looked somewhat abandoned. Everyone that you saw seemed to be going in the opposite direction, and you walked a little faster. Sure, Vinda seemed a little odd, but you just assumed that she needed some extra attention in the social cues department. When you approached the building that had the correct address on it, three men moved to stand in your way. Each of them had a stick (a wand?) in their hand that seemed similar to Vinda’s but all different in their own way.

“Keep walking lady. You’re not supposed to be here tonight and you know it.”

“Stop, she’s with me.” Vinda stepped out from inside the building. Everyone looked surprised when she walked over to hold your hand. “No one is to touch her. If she’s hurt, all of you are to answer to me. Is that understood?”

The men all nodded and moved out of your way. As you followed Vinda inside the building, you couldn’t help but stare around you. “What was with those men in front of the building? Are all these people here the same as you?”

“Those men work for the same man I do. They are fiercely protective of our leader, and I am protective of you. You’re with me now, and that means you’re under my protection.” As she talked, you couldn’t help but stare as you followed Vinda down the hallway. You hadn’t realized how much you meant to Vinda until now, and it seemed like she was already very interested in you. It certainly wouldn’t do to complain, but you couldn’t help but think it would be good to lay down some ground rules after the two of you went out on a real date. The two of you were reaching the end of the hallway fairly quickly, and Vinda gestured to the door at the end of the hallway. “I would like to introduce you to the man who is leading our meeting tonight.”

When Vinda opened the door, a man with pale hair turned around. Everything about him seemed pale, even his eyes. “You must be (Y/N), Vinda has told me so much about you.”

“She has? Good things I hope.” You looked nervously around the room as Grindelwald continued staring at you.

“You’re going to be staying in this room for a while. Vinda has taken a special interest in you, and that makes you special to all of us. We’ll come back to get you when we’re done here. I would like to get to know you better, (Y/N).”

When Vinda and Grindelwald left the room, you sat back down with a huge sigh. None of this made sense: it seemed like everything was moving so fast, and you weren’t sure if you were ready to move that fast with Vinda. Maybe the people she was around was a bit strange, but it seemed like she was protective of you. Meeting her was probably not the worst thing that has happened to you in the last couple of months.

#vinda rosier #vinda rosier x reader #vinda rosier imagine #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fantastic beasts and where to find them imagine #fantastic beasts imagine #crimes of grindelwald #crimes of grindelwald imagine

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tmntxreader-fics · 6 years ago

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TMNT Raphael x Reader: A Damaged Love

Request:

@skywolf42 Ooh I have prompt for you!! RaphaelxReader where the Reader character gets in an argument with Raphael and flinches and freezes up at some point when he gets mad. Raph is immediately guilty that he's done something to make the Reader think he'd ever hit them, not understanding at first that it was a subconscious response due to physical abuse at the hands of a masculine figure at some point in the Reader's life.

I took a different take on this, and added some 2007 Raph elements to it. Made it a little bit darker. Raph goes a little too far.

WARNINGS: Cussing (as usual), mention of physical abuse, angst, and typos because I’m a dumb bitch. Violent anger. ANGRY RAPH. like, Unreasonable 2007 Raph angry.

Fem Reader this time around.

‘Every couple squabbles.’

At least, that’s what they say. That’s what you had told yourself when you were ignoring the ringing in your ears.

They say that ‘the arguments make the relationship stronger, make them healthier.’ With delicious irony, you remember repeating that one beneath your breath quite regularly; especially the nights when your purple jaw ached.

‘Now that everything has been spilled into the air, you can both work on coming to a compromise together.’ On the contrary, you discovered that attempting to “compromise” simply resulted in a doomed-to-be-overdue hospital bill.

Now, on your second attempt at playing a role within a relationship, you realize that the first point was correct; every couple does squabble. Or, as you have found to be more accurate, they go to war.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

With a tragic spark of displaced humor, you consider the fact that this is the first time you have heard Raphael direct those words at you, rather than his enemies. Venturing further into your morbid curiosity, you wonder if, perhaps at this moment, you are his enemy.

You suppose that you should have seen the burst of volume coming, really. It was bound to arrive between both of your voices rising in a steady crescendo. The predictability of the explosion was evident, so you’re unsure as to why it had shocked you so intensely.

Maybe it was the words in which he had spoken, or perhaps, the way he had so aggressively pointed his finger towards you; accompanied by a menacing step.

“Excuse me?” Your tone is the perfect picture of aggravated bewilderment. Now you understand how people could be so taken aback that they question the reliability of their hearing. “What did you just say to me?”

“What, are you deaf? You heard me,” Raphael snarls, pacing from side to side as if he were a caged animal. Maybe he is, you muse. Perhaps he holds a barely contained animalistic anger; simmering beneath that rough, viridescent skin. Something that not even the Mutagen could evolve; or possibly, it’s responsible for encouraging the aggression.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Your voice is ripped from your lips in a bellow, your anger almost tangible. “What makes you think that you can talk to me like that?”

“You think you’re fuckin’ special?” he sneers, the simple sentence acting like a spear to your chest. The terrapin spins on his heels to face you, raising his finger once again to point at you accusingly. “You think that just ‘cos you’re my girlfriend, that means I can’t get mad at ya?”

Your jaw drops in indignant disbelief, “there’s mad and then there’s this!”

“You started this!” He growls, inhaling sharply in a poor attempt to maintain composure, “I didn’t fuckin’ come for you, you provoked me!”

Taking a step back from his overbearing presence, you return his words with a humourless snicker, “of course, it’s my fault.”

“Yeah, it is,” Raphael snaps, eyes boring holes into your own; as if he were praying that looks could kill. Your stomach churns, clearly understanding the intent behind that gaze.

“Of course it is! When have you ever taken responsibility for your own fuck-ups?” The words leave your lips before you can help yourself. You know instantly that you’ve just poured fuel over an already flaming fire. You could almost see the uncontrollable rage spread from his chest throughout his body.

Still, despite the signs, you’re unable to prevent yourself from stumbling backward when the wooden table explodes into splintered pieces beneath his fist. You’ve fallen uncomfortably into the bench, tripping on the heel of your own shoe in your desperate attempt to gain space between you and the destructive beast on the other side of the room. Despite the blatant fear your new position exclaims, leaning back against the support of a metal structure with fingers that grip the edges for comfort, you cannot bring yourself to move.

You try to stand to your feet and straighten up before he can turn around and see you. Before he can witness the power his anger has over you, the humiliating way you cower from his explosive outburst. Your body barely budges an inch at your mental commands and you remain frozen to your place.

Habit is not easily broken, your body reminds you.

You know, logically, that Raphael would never hurt you. But, as much as you’d like to trust yourself, your logic has led you seriously wrong before. Your fiery nature has only brought you to once conclusion in your relationships, and they started off just like this. Just once. Just one fight. Just one blow. Then it never stopped.

All is quiet, except for the heavy breathing that fills the room. Distantly, you remember that Mikey had carved that table himself as a kid; it was lopsided and ugly but he had made that. It was a piece of their childhood, a fond memory- and Raphael had just obliterated it without a second thought.

You stand torn, staying put leaves you in the ‘danger zone’ and leaving the room is basically a flashing neon sign screaming ‘weakness’. You had promised yourself to grow stronger in the face of the opposition, to challenge and at the first sign of violence, to leave.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” His voice is hoarse; breaking the silence so suddenly that you jump a little. His shell is turned to you, though you can tell that he is hunched over a little; shoulders heaving with the weight of your words.

“I asked you the same question and you didn’t answer,” the reply leaves your lips as a rasp. The longer you dwell on the thought of Mikey’s face when he sees the damage the stronger your resentment towards Raphael becomes. You find that you want to grind your teeth until there’s nothing left but small shards of bone; you want to clutch his world in your hands and burn it to ashes. With the rage rushing through your blood you find the energy to at least stand and somewhat straighten your stance. You’ve never felt such unfathomable wrath towards somebody that you genuinely love, even against those of whom you had thought you loved.

Perhaps, it’s because you love him and you know it’s mutual that it hurts to see the relationship take a tragically familiar path. Is this the inevitable truth of love? Is it simply a means to an end? Could it be that love is so desired that they hide the horrors of it behind a quaint picture, and collectively everyone drinks it in like a sweet cocktail of poison. They thirst for it because they think that the high is worth the consequences, that the repercussions of love are the lesser of two evils- the other being loneliness.

“You want me to answer your question?” His voice interrupts your train of thought. Turning your gaze to your partner’s hulkish figure you can’t help but shiver when he straightens up, shell still shielding him from your observation. “I’ll tell you exactly who I am.”

Your heart leaps into your throat when Raphael turns, his eyes narrowed and blazing with a heat that make your instincts scream at you to run.

One step.

“I’m Raphael,” he begins.

Two steps.

“Now, see, I got a bad, bad, temper.”

Three steps.

“But I’m the best at what I do; putting a fist through someone’s jaw is how I get off.”

Four steps. He’s halfway across the room now.

“Now, I got a girlfriend. She talks big for someone who’s half my size.”

Five steps. You stomach lurches and you can’t help but lean back into the metal bench once more.

“She reminds me of my brother, can’t stop themselves from tryin’ to dictate my life, correct me at every turn,” his teeth are gritted now, words ground out rather than said. “Of course, they call it guidance.”

Six steps. Too close.

“Kinda funny that my girlfriends joined in when you think about the fact that I’m ten times as strong as her.”

“Raph,” you whisper. Your heart sinks, you know where this is going. You had held out hope that it would never come to this, perhaps you’ve pushed him too far. Maybe this is your fault.

Ignoring your voice, he takes another step forward. Seven.

“Faster than her.”

“Please,” you rasp, gripping the metal beside you in an attempt to not curl up.

“Bigger than her.”

Eight.

He’s in front of you now, his body towering over your trembling self. You can barely breath, your eyes fixated on the fists that are balled at his sides. If it’s coming you might as well make the most of it.

“What do you want from me?” You burst, voice breaking mid sentence. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to support me!” He snaps. You can feel his breath brushing the top of your head and you lips tremble at the volume of his voice. Don’t break, stay strong. “Why is this so fuckin’ hard for you’s to understand. I don’t want authority I want a partner!”

“Why is it so hard for you to understand that partnership is about guiding someone through their flaws and encouraging them with their strengths,” you whisper shakily. Finally you turn your eyes up to meet his hard expression, watching the way he observes the wateriness of your gaze. “You’re so insecure that you can pinpoint everyone else’s problems but the second yours are addressed you think you’re being attacked and dominated.”

“Insecure?”

Perhaps, that was not the best word to throw around when you’re trapped between a metal bench and a 6′5, 340lb angry turtle.

“I’m insecure? Look who’s talking!” His laugh is a humorless roar and you flinch beneath him.

“I don’t intimidate the people I love to hide my insecurities,” you snap back, gesturing to his aggressive posture.

“Being intimidating is the only way to shut you’s up! There’s no other way to get you to back off!” He exclaims, throwing his hands up in disbelief. Your stomach clenches, shoulders flinching upwards to your jaw at the sudden movement.

"What are you a caveman?” You cry, poking your finger into his plastron and straightening your posture in an attempt to cover your previous reaction. Be strong. “Use. Your. Words. Be honest! Be open! No one is gonna understand where the line is if you explode the second we open our mouths. Communicate through your words, your touch, your actions!”

Your heart is pounding in your chest and you realise instantly that your courageous facade is permanently over when you catch his eyes. The sheer fury. Your body begins to tremble harder than it has in so long, the adrenaline rushing through your body in an attempt to evoke a response. Run, your instincts scream, hide!

“You want me to use my words?” He sneers, his voice so low you don’t expect the volume from his next sentence. “Then shut the fuck up.”

He steps in so that your body is pressed between his and the metal digging into your back. Your hands immediately raise up to press against his chest. “Raph....”

“You want me to use my touch?” His voice is a steady shout now, you distantly wonder whether the boys can hear his bellow from the streets. But you know the truth, that you’re alone. Left at his mercy.

His hands grip your body by your shoulders and at the sound of your startled cry he lifts you up so that only your toes brush the ground. He shakes you, as if hoping that somehow he could scramble your mind and prevent you from conjuring anymore words. “Then let me shake some sense into ya.”

Your first sob is overpowered by the roar of his voice, you don’t know if he’s even heard it. You feel as though you’re going to puke any second now and you can’t find your breath. There’s no air. Where’s the air?

“You want me to use my actions?” He drops his grip on you and your body falls into the bench behind you. “Then here!”

He leans in and your body is bent backwards over the table before his fists smash into the metal on either side of your body, undoubtedly denting it.

With that, you break.

Your body crumples to the floor beneath his feet, hands raised above your head in a feeble attempt to protect yourself.

Not again.

There’s a silence before his voice, ever so soft, violates the quiet. He says your name. He says it twice.

Is this how it’s meant to be?

He says it three times.

Please, not again.

Please.

He doesn’t touch you, not yet.

Please.

He says your name again, this time his voice sounds as broken as you feel.

Please.

He’s apologising, the words sweet nothings lost to the air. The whispers caress your body, curling around your neck in a deceptively loving touch. The words stroke your cheek, touch your lips.

He says your name again, so softly. So gentle. The hushed tones wait for you to look up, they’re coaxing you to unfurl. But you know; you know from experience that they beckon you so that they can look you in the eyes. So that they can watch you, adoration in their gaze. They want to see your face when they choke you with the very thing that you crave.

Love.

This is love.

#tmnt 2007 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #tmnt x reader #raphael x reader #tmnt raph #tmnt raphael x reader #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph x reader #raphael hamato #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo

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radamazard · 5 years ago

Text

The Face of Love

My second piece for @theninozine

It was a blast participating and getting to contribute to something with so many talented artist and writers! ❤️

—————————————————

There were many things on Earth that Adrien had loved at first sight. His mother and her warm, gentle smiles. Romantic Comedy movies and how they always ended happily and well, despite all the hurt that happened throughout the films. Ladybug, and how she bravely pushed passed her fears and insecurities to be the beautiful, ass kicking bad ass she was.

Yet none of these had lasted. His mother? Missing for years. Rom Coms? A lie that could never be his reality. Ladybug? A brilliant and wonderfully close friend still. A best friend! But… perhaps his love for her had been immature, had boarded on praise and idolment.

And none of them had been able to be there once his father had kicked him unceremoniously to the curb after one too many fights and some particularly sharp words had been exchanged. But you know who had been?

Nino.

Nino, with his eyes like liquid amber, flecked with the most glistening of gold.

Nino, with a smile so genuine that it crinkled at the edges, and a laugh so full that it often left him heaving and making those silly, cute little gasps.

Nino, with his hands as soft as his heart was big, who cupped Adrien’s cheeks and whispered that he’d never be alone.

His first guy friend, who’d stuck by his side since they day they’d met as awkward, lonely teens. Who now, at eighteen, held his hand and gently tugged him into his apartment. There were no words as he brought in Adrien’s bags and sat them in his bedroom, and none were needed as Nino pulled the blond into his arms, letting him weep upon his shoulder.

“You don’t gotta tell me what’s up, Dri,” Nino told him, with the same tenderness as his embrace that held his best friend close. “But you’re free to stay here for as long as you need, ‘kay? Heck, you’re free to stay here forever if you want!”

Nino’s laugh, that bubbled and cracked in ways that he’d once playfully teased him for, left Adrien feeling warmer than he had in a long time.

——————

“He said WHAT?” Nino cried out, looking just about ready to leap from his sixth floor window and tear out Gabriel’s throat out. And if it wasn’t for how tight Adrien was gripping his hand, he may very well have attempted it. “That bastard! Who the fuck talks to their son like that? Like seriously, fuck him, dude! You were right to chew him out!”

Adrien hadn’t felt like he had. At least, part of him hadn’t. Another part was near delirious with giddy joy for having finally fully stood his ground, for having refused to hold back and letting his father know just how he felt. Of course it had cost him a hom-

No. Not a home. Homes were meant to be warm and safe and where you felt free to be yourself. And that mansion? That wasn’t home. No, home was…

Forest green flickered up to Nino’s ranting face, filled with such a righteous fury, mixed with a great care and compassion for his disowned best bro.

Home. Home was like… like Nino.

Home was on the brunet’s beat up old couch, with the cherry tart stains from last New Year’s, courtesy of some very awfully excellent puns on his part. Where they’d laughed and snored and cried.

Home was by Nino’s side, as they huddled together in a big old blanket and watched crappy horror movies.

Home was in Nino’s arms, holding him tight in joy or sorrow, always knowing he was safe and accepted and oh so loved.

“Ya know what, Dri? Fuck it! This is your home now! Sure, it’s only got one bed, but hey, it ain’t the first time we’ve snuggled down together. If you want your own I’m sure I can work something out. Maybe clear out my studio, I’ve been meaning to pair down anyway…”

Adrien felt his heart simultaneously warm and skip a single, fluttering beat.

———————

“Seriously, man, it’s fine! It’s about time I got to be the one to spoil your ass anyway,” Nino insisted with a grin, as he held out the lopsided ice cream cone for Adrien to take. Which he did, albeit with a look akin to tentative guilt.

“I know, it’s just… you’re already doing so much for me. I can’t pay any rent or help with the bills or groceries…” Adrien trailed off, dropping his gaze to his shuffling feet. “I’m already enough of a burden on you, I don’t wa-“

Chocolate ice cream was smashed to his lips before he could even hope to finish talking, and even if he were to try, Nino’s sudden serious gaze was enough to keep him quiet.

“You are NOT a burden bro, okay? Don’t you think that for even a second!”

“Bu-“

“No buts!” Nino cut in, so sharp that Adrien near flinched. Yet seconds later that harsh edge was gone, leaving behind a gentle pleading that left his breath hitching. “You’re never a burden to me. Ever. Okay? Not now, not in the future, not even when you’re being a total bratty brat who need a swift soda to the face. I freakin’ love you, Adrien, and Plagg will crave Kraft Singles before I regret having you with me for even a second. You got that?”

It wasn’t the tears that glistened, nor the trembling smile that clued Adrien in to just how he was feeling.

No. It was how the cold hollowness that had dug it’s way deep within his soul, something he’d grown hauntingly used to, now sprung to life with a roaring fire… A love that blazed like none before, making him feel blinder than he thought possible.

How had Adrien never noticed just what he’d had by his side, just WHO he had by his side? Just how blinded by his own fantasies and expectations had he been?

Because falling for Nino wasn’t like in the movies. It wasn’t a spectacular moment of fireworks and gentle sighs as the sun framed his love’s smiling face. No. It was quiet and familiar and comfortable, but new at the same time. Like an old sweater that was now a favourite to wear.

And in that moment, with Nino wiping away his tears without a lick of judgement, Adrien couldn’t imagine a person he’d rather be beside.

———————

Honestly he wished there was more he could do.

Nino deserved sculptures of flowers, declarations written in the sky! The most fancy of chocolates and candle lit dinners at beautifully romantic restaurants.

Yet all he could afford with the remains of his scrounged savings was a derpy turtle plush and a bouquet of flowers on sale. At the very least they were sunflowers though, the one bloom he knew Nino had a certain fondness for. But still, in Adrien’s eyes he deserved so much BETTER.

Maybe though, just maybe… it would be enough.

Maybe he could be enough.

So with a swallowed breath Adrien readied himself, standing right by the door as it swung upon, revealing a shocked Nino, exhausted from a long day at the radio station.

“I, uh… There someone you’re tryin’ to surprise, Dri?” Nino chuckled, a certain nervous energy just barely noted. “Trust you to try to woo someone the hella classically cute way. So, who’s the special girl? Or guy?” There was a hint of hope there, that drove Adrien to feel bolder, to attempt to channel his inner alley cat.

“Only the cutest guy around~”

“Cutest guy, huh? So you’re surprising yourself then?”

When since had Nino became one SMOOTH motherfucker? Not that he’d let that deter him!

“Nope. It’s a guy who’s cuter actually than me. I know, I know, surprising, huh? But it’s true. He’s cuter than me… both inside and out. Really though, it’s his kind heart that won me over. So loyal and supportive. So willing to do everything he can to make his friends smile, to bring them what joy he can.”

Oh how wonderful it was to watch Nino switch from amused to hopeful to near holding his breath, unable to keep his cheeks from blazing like the sun above.

“He… He sounds like a real catch, huh? Must be one hell of a guy to get such a glowing report, my dude,” Nino muttered, feigning his glasses were smudged just to give him an excuse to clean them. To not have to look Adrien in the eye just in case he was wrong.

“Oh yeah. You’re definitely one hell of a guy, Nino,” Adrien whispered, pressing is megar gifts into the blushing man’s hands. “And maybe… maybe you wanna be my guy? Like, romantically. You know, like a boyfriend and all…”

The anxiety that flittered through him was awful, as Adrien watched Nino silently admire the flowers and chuckle at the wonky eyed turtle. Carefully they joined his keys on the door side table, before he finally lifted his gaze to meet Adrien’s nervous eyes.

“I’d have to be freakin’ nuts to say no to an offer like that,” Nino replied, with a chuckle so warm that Adrien finally felt free to release his breath. Not that he had time to steady it, as Nino swooped right on in, until their foreheads just barely touched. “Nothing would make me happier than to ‘be your guy’, you ridiculous ass dorkasaurous!”

Oh how freeing it felt to laugh, especially when that laugh was against Nino’s lips, a kiss that was more giggles and smiles than anything Hollywood.

Adrien wouldn’t have traded it for the most perfect kiss in the world.

For nothing could be better than this.

Than Nino’s giddy giggles snorts, making his glasses fog and slide down his nose as he stole kiss after kiss in all his beautifully dorky glory.

To Adrien, THAT was the face of true love.

#miraculous ladybug #Nino lahiffe #adrien agreste #adrino #adrinino

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anubislover · 5 years ago

Text

Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya chapter 11: Dinner with Dr. Heart Stealer

As the clock struck seven, Nami critiqued her outfit in the mirror; a strapless little black dress that hugged her curves like a glove, gold stiletto heels, black thigh-high stockings, and the tourmaline jewelry she’d bought from the seller in Tokken. She even used the hairpins Law had gotten her to clip back the left side of her hair. She finished off the look with some dark red lipstick and gold smokey eyeshadow, giving herself an elegant but sensual look.

“Getting all dressed up for the captain?” Ikkaku teased from her bed. The engineer was thumbing through the romance novel she’d caught Nami with, and though it wasn’t her usual thing, had decided to give it a shot. After all, it had managed to entrance the usually energetic navigator for hours, and she had some time to kill before Ladies Night.

Brushing some gold highlighter over her cheekbones, Nami scoffed. “Please, I’m getting dressed up for you. Law’s just a lucky bastard who benefits due to scheduling.”

“I’m flattered,” she said with a wink. “Though I’ll understand if you ditch me to take him back to the nearest inn so he can rock your world. I mean, I won’t be happy, but I’ll understand.”

“Ok, I gotta ask—have you ever slept with Law? Because you’re always vouching for his sexual prowess…”

Ikkaku immediately made fake gagging sounds. “Oh, hell no! That’d be like fucking one of my brothers! But I have talked to some of his past lovers, and they all seemed pretty damn satisfied. Something a girl like you deserves to be.”

Hip jutting out and eyebrow raised in challenge, Nami replied, “How do you know they aren’t lying? Maybe he’s terrible in bed but they’re all too scared to speak ill of the Surgeon of Death, especially to one of his fearsome subordinates.”

The grin said subordinate graced her with was nothing short of salacious. “Because if he were bad, Drake wouldn’t keep coming back for more, even though Law pisses him off so much.”

Nami bit her lip to hide her grin. “Ok, fair point. Also, I want the inside scoop on that relationship.”

“If Law doesn’t give you the dirty details himself, I’ll happily fill you in,” she replied, sniggering. “Bet they’ll give you better fantasies than whatever’s in your books!”

Pink rose to the redhead’s cheeks as her eyes briefly darted to the space under her bed. Nami had shoved Ikkaku’s scandalous box to the very back corner to hopefully never see the light of day again. She dared not throw them out; she doubted Ikkaku would take kindly to it, and knowing her, would probably present her with something even more embarrassing in retaliation. “By the way, as much as I hate your stupid ‘gift’, thanks for not spilling that to everyone. At least, not directly.”

“I thought about it but figured the sex toys would be just as funny without the guys prying into your hobbies. Most of them have enough tact to keep them from teasing you about a dildo, but I doubt they’d show the same restraint if they found out you were into erotic novels.”

“You just want to lord my guilty pleasure over me, don’t you?”

“How’d you know?”

“I have a sister, remember?”

“Ha! Good point. I’m guessing she teases you about this stuff?” she asked, pointing to the book.

Chocolate eyes rolled in exasperated fondness as she played with her bracelet. “All the time. It was annoying, but I guess I appreciated it, in a way. It was one of the more normal things we could talk about, given how screwed up our situation was.”

“Because of the pirates holding your town hostage?”

“Yeah,” she replied, debating on whether she should elaborate. Finally, she added, “I was kind of an outcast among the townsfolk because I made sea charts for the captain. My sister was the only one who knew it was against my will, and that I had made a deal to raise money to buy the village back. Or at least, they all pretended not to know so if I ever decided to give up and run away, I wouldn’t feel guilty.”

“You know, I’m beginning to understand why you have so many trust issues,” Ikkaku quipped, though her eyes were sympathetic.

“Believe me, it was way worse before Luffy came into my life. If we’d met a year ago, I would have already betrayed you and stolen the ship and all the treasure on board.”

“You could try, but the Boss would kill you. He loves this ship and he does not take threats to his crew lightly.”

“I’ve noticed,” Nami deadpanned, adjusting her bodice. It was a sweetheart neckline, which nicely accented her generous bust, had enough support to keep her from spilling out. Such a thing was extremely necessary, given the low back of the dress. Not long ago, she would have been nervous wearing something so daring around Law, but she was still leaning on the theory that he had a weird fetish for modest clothing. If she was right, showing this much skin would act as a repellant.

“He wasn’t too rough with you, was he?” Ikkaku asked, genuinely concerned. “I mean, he can get intense—”

“Oh, he was absolutely terrifying, and I’m pretty sure he was ready to start removing body parts if I hadn’t been having a panic attack, but honestly? I’d still choose him over Arlong.”

Before Ikkaku could ask any questions, there was a firm knock on the door. Grabbing her new purse and slipping into a leopard print, fur-trimmed coat, Nami nodded at her roommate. “Promise me a 9pm rescue?”

“Hmmm, only if I don’t get too caught up in this book,” she teased, cracking it open. “I mean, you did say there was some pretty intense eye contact to look forward to.”

Blushing, she shot back, “You laugh, but chemistry like that can be more intense than any make-out scene.”

“Says the virgin.”

Choosing to ignore the jab, Nami yanked open the door and was met by Law’s cocky smirk. To her surprise, he wore a tailored white suit with a black dress shirt, which brought out that extra little bit of olive in his skin tone. His polished black dress shoes gleamed as brightly as his earrings and the thick, gold chain around his neck. A heady, musky scent tempted Nami’s nose, and she realized Law’d chosen to wear some kind of cologne. Oddly enough, his white fur hat and tattoos didn’t seem as out of place as when he’d dressed up on Tokken Island; perhaps it was because this wasn’t a disguise, or the color was just far more complimentary to his trademark accessories. He looked slick and dangerous, but also at ease—a criminal on a night off.

Damn it, he looked even better than he had at the gala.

Leaning against the doorframe, Law’s grin widened at her perusal. “Do I pass inspection, Nami-ya?” he purred, giving her his own approving once-over.

Gold eyes locked with hazelnut as Nami cocked her hip. “Considering how you haven’t told me where we’re going, it’s a bit hard to judge. For all I know, you’re underdressed.”

“We’re going to a jazz club I frequent, so even if I showed up in jeans, they’d let me in—especially if I have a beautiful woman on my arm.”

“Flatter all you like, Law—you’re not getting out of footing the bill.”

Never breaking eye contact, he gave a little mock bow. “Of course not. A gentleman always treats on the first date.”

“I don’t know you’re more wrong about; that you think this is a date, that there’ll be more than one, or that you’re anything even close to a gentleman.”

“I think I proved myself at the gala. I was on my best behavior, wasn’t I?”

“Maybe in public, but the second we were alone, you went right back to being a bastard.”

A low whistle interrupted their banter, and Nami turned to see Ikkaku wiggling her eyebrows suggestively as she meaningfully glanced between them. “You know what, Nami? You may have a point with that ‘intense eye contact’ thing.”

Cheeks inflamed, Nami grabbed Law by the arm and dragged him down the hallway before Ikkaku could say anything else. As she felt the captain’s intense gaze burning into the back of her head, she silently wondered if a free dinner was worth it.

XXX

The outside of the jazz club was far from impressive—in fact, the entrance was a nondescript wooden door against a plain brick wall, its only ornamentation a faded bronze knocker and a number “8” nailed at the top. Nami was positive she would have walked straight past if Law hadn’t led her to it, pausing to quickly rap three times with his knuckles, then four with the knocker.

After a moment, the door opened, and they were greeted by a young woman dressed in a short skirt and tailored red vest. “Captain Trafalgar. So glad you could join us tonight.”

Law gave a lazy, familiar grin as he wrapped his arm around Nami’s waist. “Always a pleasure, Akari. Is my usual booth ready?”

“Of course, sir,” she replied, ushering them inside and leading them down a narrow, winding staircase.

As they stepped into the lounge, Nami’s eyes widened in surprise. The bland building façade hid a much more elaborate interior; everything from the bar to the floor to the wall panels were made of mahogany or cherry wood, with ruby red cushions, upholstery, and carpets. Red and gold lamps provided just enough light to see by while giving the place a sensual, mysterious ambiance.

At the far end of the room, low couches formed a semi-circle around the small dance floor in front of the stage, where various instruments and music stands awaited performers. Currently, the stage’s sole occupant was an older gentleman playing a soothing tune on the piano. There were a few larger tables scattered about, but most of the seating appeared to be small booths in the walls, their openings framed by red velvet curtains. Several were occupied by canoodling couples, and it didn’t escape Nami’s notice that a few even had the curtains drawn.

Akrai led them to an empty booth, and Law graciously helped Nami out of her coat, handing it to their hostess to hang up before sliding comfortably into his seat.

“Wow,” Nami said, taking it all in. Their seating arrangement was cozy but not claustrophobic, the velvet cushions that padded the crescent bench wonderfully plush. A gold lamp hung above the round table, allowing her to more easily peruse the embossed menu. Appetizers ranged from shrimp cocktail to deviled quail eggs, while entrees featured grilled seafood, roast duck, and steak. The drink list was extensive with an assortment of sparkling wines, cocktails, hard liquor, and even absinthe.

“I figured you’d approve,” Law replied smugly, lounging back in his seat. “And I told you I wasn’t underdressed.”

“I guess not. How’d you hear about this place?”

“It’s an establishment that first started in the North Blue—Prohibition Island decided it wanted to outlaw alcohol, among other ‘sinful’ things. The club’s owner was an entrepreneur from the West Blue, so she knew a thing or two about setting up businesses under the government’s nose. The original club became successful enough to branch out to other islands, and eventually made its way down the Grand Line.”

“I wouldn’t expect Grimm to ban alcohol,” Nami replied, brow furrowing in confusion. An archipelago that catered to pirates and other scum, which had a thriving black market and a brothel on every corner, but outlawed alcohol? The very idea was baffling.

Head shaking, Law chuckled, “Oh, it doesn’t, but Haiko-ya felt the atmosphere suited the clandestine aesthetic. This just happens to be a place where you can get quality booze and not worry about someone spiking your drink. She’s a criminal, but she has standards far higher than most of the island’s establishments.”

“You sound like you know her personally.”

He shrugged but gave a mysterious smile. “She’s Kimo-ya’s wife, actually. Considering all the business I do with her husband, she was happy to give me a lifetime VIP membership.”

A wave of paranoia sent a shiver down Nami’s spine. “What if she sells us out to Jinzo?”

“She won’t. She hates the man’s guts to an impressive extent. Hell, if she’s here tonight, she’ll probably give you special perks for ending up on his shit list.”

By that point, a young man in a red satin waistcoat appeared, smiling at the pair pleasantly. “Welcome back to Ruby 8, Captain Trafalgar. My name is Hansuke, and it’s my pleasure to serve you tonight. What can I get you to drink?” he asked, flipping open his notepad.

“I’ll have a neat whiskey,” Law said easily.

“A Sour Sunrise for me, please,” Nami said, pleased to find an orange juice-based cocktail. She flashed Law a catlike grin as she added, “And a bottle of your best champagne.”

“One glass or two?” the waiter asked, glancing at Law for confirmation.

“Two,” Law replied, smirking at Nami. “In fact, make sure there’s another bottle ready for when we finish the first one. We’re celebrating, after all, and I intend on giving my woman an unforgettable evening.”

“I’m not your woman,” she growled, but was ignored by both men.

“Of course, Captain Trafalgar,” Hansuke said with an eager nod. Men looking to impress were men who spent a lot of money, and if he did well, he might just earn himself a hefty tip. “Are you ready to order your meals as well, or do you need more time?”

“I know what I want,” said Law, barely glancing at the menu. “I’ll take the grilled salmon with the house salad.”

“I’ll have the orange duck, and can we also get a basket of rolls for the table, please?” Nami asked the waiter sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes for extra measure.

The young man nervously glanced between her and the scowling Supernova, clearly debating which one was better to please.

“I…let me check with the chef—I think he said something about running out,” he squeaked out before sprinting off.

“That was cruel of you, Nami-ya,” Law rumbled, fixing her with an annoyed glare, though sadistic humor twinkled in his eyes. “I told you, I’m a regular here. They know I despise bread and will decapitate anyone stupid enough to bring it to my table.”

With a huff, she crossed her long legs and flipped her hair haughtily. “Killing a waiter isn’t a great way to impress a girl and will definitely get you banned from any self-respecting restaurant—VIP or not.”

“I wouldn’t kill him—you forget, my powers allow me to cut a man to pieces and still keep him alive.”

“You should seriously still be banned.”

“They’ve served far worse patrons than me, and they know I’ll be on my best behavior and fill their pockets with plenty of belli so long as they don’t intentionally piss me off.” Lips turning up in an amused grin, he continued, “I’d say it’s a lesson you could stand to learn, sweetheart, but half the time I find your petty acts of defiance charming.”

“Does that include the sunburn I gave you?”

“No, though I did enjoy everything you did to distract me from it.”

The waiter returned to their booth with their drinks and a small tray of assorted meat and cheeses, smiling at Nami apologetically even as a drop of sweat trickled down his face. “I’m so sorry, miss, but it seems we’re out of bread this evening. Not so much as a crumb can be found. Please accept this complimentary charcuterie board with the house’s sincerest apologies.”

Annoying as it was that Law had the staff wrapped around his finger, she took pity on the poor man and gave an understanding smile. If the Surgeon of Death really was a regular at this place, she couldn’t blame him for not going along with her game. “Oh, this is just lovely! Thank you so much!”

Hansuke’s relief was palatable as he set down the tray and their drinks before running off to fetch the champagne.

“See? It’s things like this that keep me from getting too mad at you,” Law chuckled, popping a cube of cheese into his mouth. “I haven’t gotten a free appetizer since that time a new waiter insisted I’d ordered breadcrumbs on my salmon.”

“So, you tolerate me so long as I get you free stuff?” Nami quipped, taking a dainty bite of a slice of ham. It had a surprising fruity note and practically melted in her mouth. She’d have to tell Sanji about it. Hell, even Luffy might appreciate it, assuming he took the time to chew.

She swallowed a bit more harshly than she’d intended when Law leaned across the table, long fingers lightly stroking her elbow as he murmured, “I put up with your antics so long as you make it worth my while, Nami-ya. Keep that in mind next time you’re tempted to pull one of your little pranks.”

Despite pulling his hand away to pick up his drink, Nami could still feel tingling sparks dance across her skin. It really was ridiculous how a brush of his hand invoked that reaction. She was supposed to be more composed than that—a wily thief that didn’t mix business with pleasure—but while his overt come-ons could be annoying, his subtle touches and inviting glances still managed to tempt her. “Fine, but the fact that you’re willing to literally take someone’s head off over bread is way more childish than my ‘little pranks’,” she grumbled into her cocktail.

Whether Law heard her snarky comment or not, their conversation was briefly interrupted as the waiter appeared with the champagne, popping the cork and carefully pouring the bubbly liquid into a pair of elegant crystal flutes. “The sous chef has received your order and will of course be making it himself, Captain Trafalgar,” he said. “If you need anything else in the meantime, please, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks,” he said breezily, sipping his whiskey. “What time is the band scheduled to start up?”

“In less than a half-hour, sir. They’re currently on their dinner break, but I can ask—”

He waved him off. “I’m in no rush, and I’d rather they be at peak condition while performing. I don’t need my evening ruined because one of them fainted onstage from hunger.”

“Of course, sir. Regardless, I’ll inform them you’re in the audience. Anything else?”

“Time alone with my date would be ideal,” he replied in a clipped tone, raising an eyebrow meaningfully.

Nami could see the way the young man shivered at Law’s glare, and he skittered like a mouse back to the kitchen, wisely leaving the bottle behind.

“And you call me cruel,” she stated blandly as she savored another piece of ham.

“I’m all for attentive servers, but the constant sucking up was getting old.” Trying some of the meat for himself, he glanced at her appraisingly. “But enough about him. You’re a far more interesting subject.”

She frowned, brow furrowing suspiciously. “Am I?”

Linking his fingers and leaning his elbows on the table, he smirked. “Of course. Despite being on my ship for nearly three months, you’re still a mystery. A puzzle with so many missing pieces that I can’t yet visualize the total picture.”

“I could say the same about you,” she said, remembering the confusion she felt as he ran off the day before. “We’re both complex people who play their cards close to the chest.”

“That we are, but yesterday proved that a lack of communication between us can be detrimental to our working relationship, not to mention your health. I promise not to pry too much, and you don’t need to give me all the details, but I expect honest answers.”

Much as she wanted to argue, Penguin’s advice stopped her. The first mate was right; everyone had baggage, but how were people supposed to know her bugbears if she didn’t tell them? As worried as she was that a man like Law would be willing to exploit her weaknesses, he also had a point regarding how their communication issues had nearly gotten her killed. Even if it drudged up unpleasant memories, this was a necessary talk for the sake of side-stepping further unpleasantness. “Fine. I’ll open up—just a little—if you will.”

Resting his chin on his knuckles, Law took a minute to mull over his first question. “Tell me, Nami-ya, how’d you get the name ‘Cat Thief’, anyway? Rumor has it it’s been your moniker since well before the World Government issued your bounty.”

Taking a deep breath and a steadying swallow of her Sour Sunrise, she replied, “My…first captain was always comparing me to a kitten. Guess it was his way of praising me despite my species, since he saw humans as the lowest of the low.”

“Odd opinion.”

“Not for a Fishman.”

Leaning back against the plush velvet cushions, Law unlinked his fingers and munched on another piece of cheese. “Ah. A backhanded compliment. Better than a human, but still little more than a pet.”

“That about sums it up,” she said, pushing down the image of Arlong’s patronizing smile. God, some days she’d hated his condescending approval more than his disgusting hatred for her species. It made her feel dirty, being someone that a monster like him could admire.

Law rubbed his goatee thoughtfully. “No wonder you had such an extreme reaction to me calling you ‘kitten’. I’ll try to avoid it in the future. Still odd you’d adopt a feline signature, though.”

Shaking off her former captor’s vindictive smile, Nami shrugged, buying time before replying by nibbling on some cheese, even though she barely tasted it. “Guess it was a little out of spite; I wanted to take the word back and feel like I had just a shred of power. Didn’t really work, but it was still a good nickname for a thief.”

Perhaps he sensed her discomfort, but Law gently nudged the topic towards safer waters. “Fair. Shachi was the one who came up with ‘The Surgeon of Death’. Bit over-the-top, but I like it. Iconic, and definitely strikes fear into the hearts of my enemies.”

“Sounds like something from a comic book,” she scoffed as she finished her cocktail, moving on to the champagne. She knew she wouldn’t get drunk, but the bubbles tickling her palette would be a pleasant way to keep her mind from slipping into the past. Even without the meds in her system driving her towards panic attacks, she knew nothing good could come from dwelling too long on what Arlong had put her through.

“Like I said, it was Shachi’s idea. He was worried the Marines would give me something lame, so he and the crew went out of their way to mention it in every port we stopped in until they had no choice but to put it on my wanted poster.”

“I’m sure Drake had his own suggestions on what to call you.”

Law chuckled smugly, looking far too proud of himself. “Oh, I’m sure he did, but those posters are seen by the general public, so anything he’d propose would have to be censored. It’s probably why Eustass’ moniker is just ‘Captain’; either that or it’s a lame form of overcompensation.” His grin grew even more devious as he added, “First time we met, I deliberately acted like Killer was the captain, just to piss him off.”

Despite herself, Nami had to giggle. She’d only met Eustass Kid briefly, but he’d seemed the type to not take an insult lightly. With the highest bounty of the rookies, he was certainly someone she wouldn’t want to mess with. “You’re an asshole with a death wish, aren’t you?”

Law shrugged, knocking back the rest of his whiskey. The humor in his eyes dimmed. “Perhaps I do, just a little bit. I didn’t expect to live past the age of thirteen.”

“Why?” she asked curiously before she could catch herself. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Face cast in shadow by the brim of his hat, he tersely replied, “I was a sickly child. My father was the best doctor in the providence, but even he couldn’t come up with a cure. Didn’t help that the world believed it was a contagious disease, so we had no outside help. I only survived because of the Ope Ope no Mi.”

“Your father must have been happy about that, at least.”

“He was killed years before I got my hands on it.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.” Her heart clenched at the thought. A dead parent before the age of thirteen. Wasn’t that a painfully familiar story? “Well, I’m sure he’d still be happy you survived.”

He shrugged again, watching the bubbles in his champagne flute pop to avoid meeting her sympathetic gaze. “He’d be disappointed that I became a pirate instead of following in his footsteps.”

“Maybe, but I think he’d accept it so long as you’re alive and happy. Bellemere was a Marine, but while she wouldn’t approve of her daughter becoming a pirate, she’d support my decision because I’m free and working towards my dream of drawing a map of the world.”

As he finally looked at her, Nami caught Law’s lips briefly twitch upwards. “I suppose we’ll never know, but it’s a pleasant fantasy, at least.” He gave a mock toast. “To the parents who wanted better for us.”

With a wry smile, Nami clinked her glass to his, the pair gulping down the sparkling wine just as their food arrived. Digging into her meal, she appreciated both the delicious flavor of the duck and the blessed break in the heavy conversation eating allowed.

Talking to Law about her past was far different from Luffy. Nojiko had informed her before they left Cocoyashi that her stubborn captain had opted out of hearing her backstory when she’d offered to reveal it. At first, Nami’d been offended—what, had he thought her reasons for betraying the crew and faking Usopp’s death didn’t matter? But then she realized that, even without knowing who Arlong was or what he’d done to her and the villagers, Luffy had still gone after him.

All because that bastard had made his navigator cry.

As they’d sailed for Loguetown afterwards, Nami had pulled Luffy aside one night, sat him down, and told him everything. Not because he needed to know, but because a man like that was someone who deserved to know. Deserved to know the awful things she’d endured and done to survive. Why he’d found her mutilating her shoulder, cutting off that awful tattoo. Why she was so grateful he’d destroyed that room and all of the charts she’d toiled over for eight years. Why his refusal to give up on her had meant the world to the distrustful thief.

For his part, Luffy had listened quietly, occasionally nodding his head to show he was paying attention, an unusually patient and serious expression on his face. When she was finished, he’d clapped her shoulder, gave her that carefree, goofy grin, and simply said, “Now I’m really glad I punched that jerk!”

Law wasn’t like that. While he didn’t pry, he did ask questions, clearly seeking those missing puzzle pieces he spoke of and not taking her answers at face-value. Admittedly, they had been pretty bare-boned, but it highlighted the difference between the two captains—Law sought to understand because he didn’t fully trust her. Luffy didn’t need to understand, because he trusted her from the moment she’d refused to fire a cannonball at him.

Looking at Law’s nearly-finished plate, she had to suppress a giggle as another difference between him and Luffy hit her—his chewing habits might have left something to be desired, but at least he knew not to eat the fish’s skeleton.

Noticing his companion’s attention had returned to him, Law took a sip of champagne as he considered her. “You mentioned your ‘first captain’. I’m assuming this wasn’t Mugiwara?”

Nami sighed, setting down her fork to drink from her own glass, hoping the sharp beverage would wash away the foul taste talking more about Arlong would inevitably bring. “No. Before Luffy, I served as the cartographer for another pirate crew for eight years.” She deliberately didn’t mention she was an officer—it was easier for people to accept she was a prisoner when it didn’t sound like she was in a position of authority. Perhaps that was why Arlong had “promoted” her, even though she had no real power among the Fishmen. “He…his crew invaded my village when I was ten and made everyone pay for the right to live. Bellemere only had enough money to save her own life, or mine and Nojiko’s.”

“And, of course, she sacrificed herself to protect her children.” Law shook his head, and for a moment, Nami swore she saw a wince of pain, but the amber light made it hard to tell. “Eight years…I know captains who recruit kids so they can brainwash them into loyal subordinates, but he killed your mother. I doubt you joined him willingly, after something like that?”

“Believe me, I didn’t,” she growled. Hands shaking slightly, she instinctively grabbed her knife, holding it like the dagger she’d used to fake Usopp’s death and destroy her tattoo. “Working for my mother’s murderer was nothing short of torture. Day and night I drew maps for him until my hands bled, barely allowed to sleep or eat. And all the while he acted like he was doing me a favor, since cartography was what I loved most in the world.”

The word DEATH entered her field of vision as Law covered her trembling hand with his own. The warmth was comfortingly familiar at this point, and she felt her white-knuckled grip on the cutlery slacken. “Don’t worry; I do believe you,” he said softly, catching her gaze with his own. His expression was soft and concerned—similar to the way he’d looked at her last night in the infirmary. “You’ve shown yourself to be loyal to those you care about, and we’ve all done awful, painful things for the sake of survival. And I have to say, you may actually have a stronger will than me—I doubt I would have lasted a week serving the captain who murdered someone I held dear.”

“Yeah,” she said, breathing deeply, willing herself to calm down. Law’s thumb rubbing little circles across her knuckles was surprisingly helpful with that. It gave her something to focus on; to ground herself instead of letting the memories take over. Rough as the callouses from his swordsmanship and hard life at sea were, they were still so much smoother than the sandpaper-like skin of a shark Fishman. So blessedly human. “I guess…I guess you were right, though; if you’re not strong enough to protect yourself, you’re the property of someone who was strong enough to claim you.”

“I know I’m right, but I wish I weren’t. I’m assuming this first captain of yours has something to do with your dislike of my uniform?”

“You could say that.” She sighed, jerking her chin towards her left shoulder, the faint scars beneath her swirling tattoo barely visible in the dim light, but neither had to see them to know they were there. “One of the first things he did was have me branded with his Jolly Roger to make sure I couldn’t run off. So the whole world would know I was his property.”

Much like Penguin, Nami could see the dots connecting in Law’s mind. He’d recognized right away that the scars were self-inflicted, but now that he knew what had once been in their place, he could deduct why she’d caused herself such grievous harm. She felt his fingers tighten around her own, first in anger, before easing into a comforting squeeze. With forced calm, he said, “Considering how often Fishmen and Mermaids are sold as slaves, it was probably just as much a petty form of revenge. Still, I guess that explains your objection.” Frowning, he rubbed his forehead beneath his hat with his free hand. “Look, I can’t promise you’ll never have to wear the uniform again. Like it or not, it really is the easiest way to keep you safe.”

Deep down, she appreciated his apology and understanding, even as she inwardly groaned at the thought of wearing the beige jumpsuit. “It also made me a target,” she argued. “Drake wouldn’t have looked twice at me if I’d been in my normal clothes.”

“Please, Drake-ya reads the news and would have gone after you regardless of what you were wearing. He’s smart enough to recognize a dangerous alliance when he sees one, or at least an opportunity to get a leg up. Pitiful as your bounty is, getting his hands on a lone Straw Hat, especially one who was able to rob a former Marine Intelligence officer’s mansion, would be quite tempting.” A wide, predatory grin stretched across his face as he leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist as he leered at her. “Though, personally, I think he was jealous that I’d found a new redhead to play with.”

Nami snorted, the tension in her back loosening. Creepy as he was, Law was smart, steering the conversation away from the past and the world’s speculation on their partnership to something they could casually fight about. “Are you kidding? I think he was relieved; with me around, he doesn’t have to deal with you bothering him anymore.”

“If that were the case, he wouldn’t have tried to abduct you.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, he was trying to ‘rescue’ me; Drake’s a real gentleman, unlike you,” she quipped, taking a condescending sip of her drink.

“Oh, yes, a real gentleman who kidnaps and threatens to sell off unwilling women,” Law replied sarcastically.

“Better than a pervert who makes a girl wear an ugly uniform to indulge his weird sexual fetish.”

“…my what now?”

Confident that she’d just played a winning hand, she leaned forward, bending her chest slightly over the table. “Please, I see right through your little act. Sure, you flirt and tease, but only if I’m fully dressed.” The tip of a manicured finger teasingly traced along the swell of her cleavage. “When I’m wearing next to nothing, you show no interest in my incredibly sexy body. Given your proclivities, I’m surprised you even helped me out of my coat.”

Blinking owlishly, Law replied, “I’m sorry, you think I’m attracted to you…when you’re wearing more clothes?”

“Yeah!” she insisted, not caring for his disbelieving tone.

He covered his face with one large, tattooed hand, but through his splayed fingers Nami could still see yellow eyes light up with amusement. As she glared, they only shone brighter, and his shoulders slowly began to shake. Gradually, low chuckles slipped from his lips, finally morphing into full-on laughter, his palm failing to muffle the sound.

An irritated vein throbbed in Nami’s forehead as Law continued to cackle. “Don’t think you can fool me by treating this like a joke! You have a clothing kink! During my initial check-up, you didn’t give a damn that I was strutting around in my underwear. At the mansion, you were all over me when I was in that gown, but once it’s off, woosh, I’m as attractive as a lamp! Even after the mission, you barely even acknowledged what a hot piece of ass I am. Then you insist I wear that freaking jumpsuit…”

“Nami-ya,” he chortled as his hand dropped back to the table, managing to calm down enough during her rant to formulate a reply, “I don’t have a clothing kink—I’m just good at compartmentalizing and know there’s a time and place. When we were in the infirmary, not only was I acting as your doctor, but it was clear you were too nervous to be receptive to any blatant advances. As for the mansion, yes you looked absolutely delicious in that bodysuit, but we were there to do a job; there was simply no time to indulge myself. And when I treated your wounds,” his smile fell a bit, “you’d just been through a potentially traumatizing event. You were flinching just from me touching your calf. I know I can be an asshole, but did you really expect me to come onto you when you were acting like I was Harpin?”

For a moment, Nami just sat there, jaw hanging uselessly as she realized just how far off her theory had been, and most importantly, just how badly she’d managed to embarrass herself. Her own vanity had blinded her to the obvious answer. She could justify it with the fact that most of the guys she knew were either perverts or barely acknowledged that she was a woman, so she wasn’t used to a man who could both flirt and control himself, but she wouldn’t lie to herself.

“So…the uniform isn’t some weird sexual thing?” she asked, trying to cover her humiliation by finishing her glass of champagne. Times like these made her really wish she could get drunk; it would be the perfect excuse for her ridiculous accusation.

“I mean, I won’t lie and say I don’t like you in it, but it really is just for your own protection.” Law’s returning grin was smoldering and devilish as he purred, “I’m curious, though, about what bothered you more; that I might have a strange fetish for fully-clothed women, or that I wasn’t giving your incredibly sexy body the attention you felt it deserved?”

“I…”

He shuffled closer, sliding across the booth to close the distance between them, resting his right arm across the back of her seat and teasingly trailing the fingers of his left land along the soft skin of her jaw to cup her chin. “Because if it’s the latter, I’m happy to show you just how much I appreciate it when you run around my ship in crop tops and booty shorts.”

Nami blushed, realizing she’d played directly into his hands.

“You know, one of the reasons I like redheads so much is how vibrantly they blush,” he chuckled, leaning down so his breath danced across her sensitive neck and ear. The way she’d pinned her hair meant she had no shield from it, and she shivered at the sensation. “It’s so cute, watching the capillaries that carry your blood widen as adrenaline rushes through you. No matter how good a person’s poker face is, the body doesn’t lie. Lets me know my target’s receptive to my flirting, even when they stubbornly refuse to admit it.”

“You base it all on a blush?” she countered, defiantly poking him in the chest. “People blush in anger and embarrassment. You can’t assume someone wants you just because their face gets a little red.”

Like a leopard sizing up his prey, Law loomed above her, gaze analytical and hungry as he studied her. “No, you’re right; good thing, as a doctor, I know all the other physical indicators of arousal.” Tilting her head up, he stated, “Dilated pupils.”

His hand dropped from her chin to carefully brush along the flesh of her arm. “Goosebumps.”

Long fingers encircled her wrist, thumb resting over her pulse. “Increased heartrate.”

Honey eyes dropped to Nami’s mouth as the tip of her pink tongue peeked out to moisten her suddenly dry lips. “Unconsciously licking one’s lips.”

Releasing her wrist, Law’s touch traveled back up her arm to gently stroke the ends of her mikan hair. “And the fact that you haven’t even tried to move or push me away. In fact, I’d say you’re leaning into my touch.”

Nami’s face warmed further as she realized he was right. Mentally she berated herself, but deep down, she was beginning to accept that, even if she refused to act on it for pride and professionalism’s sake, she was slightly addicted to his attentions. She was never short on male admirers, but Law challenged her, the push-and-pull giving her a thrill the way heart-eyed fools like Sanji failed to. There was something about Law that drew her in like a moth to a flame—she knew it was fatal to get too close, but damn it, she couldn’t help but dance with danger.

Winding a short, orange lock of hair around a long finger, Law declared confidently, “All this says you find me sexually attractive.”

Before she could confirm or deny this claim, an excited voice bellowed, “As I live and breathe, Trafalgar Law graces us with his exalted presence once again!”

Said captain’s seductive grin shifted into his trademark smirk as he turned to greet the newcomer. “Are you living and breathing, Hiroshi-ya?”

The man chuckled, grabbing Law’s hand in a firm shake. Beneath a silver fedora his graying hair was cut close to his scalp. His skin was dark but sported prominent laugh-lines, a pair of oval sunglasses rested on the end of his large nose, and his brilliant grin could have replaced one of the stage’s spotlights. “If I’m not, you’d probably know before I did, doc.”

“Because I’m that good, or because you’d be too focused on performing to realize you’d dropped dead?”

The two shared a laugh before the man turned to introduce himself to Nami. “Hope I wasn’t interrupting a moment, here, darlin’, but I simply had to come over and say hello. The name’s ‘Devil’s Fingers’ Hiroshi, and your boy Law here is one of my favorite patrons. Tips well, and he saved my life.”

“I only fixed your hands.”

“Considerin’ how they’d been crushed beyond recognition and I need those to make a living, I think that counts.”

Nami gaped in shock as Hiroshi held up his hands, showing that while they were clearly in working order, they were littered with tiny surgical scars.

Law shrugged, though he seemed pleased with the praise. “It was a fun operation—not every day you get to remove someone’s finger bones one-by one to rebuild your favorite musician’s hands.”

“You put someone else’s bones into him?” Nami asked the surgeon, astounded.

“Of course,” Law said casually. “His own were absolutely pulverized, so a transplant was necessary if he ever wanted to play the saxophone again.”

Part of her was horrified at the mental image, but beneath that, something niggled at her. This was the second time she’d heard someone sing Law’s praises as a legitimate doctor, and unlike Reginald, Hiroshi seemed perfectly aware of the Surgeon of Death’s criminal activities and sadistic reputation. What reason did Law have for helping this man? Was it just because he liked his music?

“Well, I’d best get ready for the show, and I’m sure you want some more alone time with your girl, eh, Law?” Hiroshi teased, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“I’d certainly appreciate a little mood music,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a few large bills.

“You got it,” the sax player sniggered, winking at Nami. “Hope you don’t mind, but we’ll be stroking your boy’s ego a bit. After the surgery, I wrote a little ditty about him as thanks, and it’s become pretty popular with the crowd. Plus, it’s the only time Oscar lets me take over as the lead singer.”

“Law strokes his own ego plenty,” Nami groused, eyes rolling heavenward. “And if you want to write about him, go for his flaws; there’s enough of those to fill an opera.”

“Oooo, she’s feisty! Have fun with that, doc!” he chuckled as he strolled off towards the stage.

“I plan to,” Law purred, turning back towards the woman beside him. “I just can’t resist a fiery ginger.”

“Speaking of,” Nami deflected, hoping to keep the conversation from returning to their original topic, “you and Drake, huh?”

He chuckled at her obvious ploy but proceeded to go along with it. “Ah, one of my favorite playmates. What do you want to know?”

“I mean, let’s start with how the hell that happened?”

“You mean, how did the golden boy of the Navy find himself thoroughly seduced by the North Blue’s most notorious rookie pirate?”

“Yeah. Mainly because Drake seems smart enough not to fall for your sleazy tricks. Or at the very least, composed enough to ignore them until you lose interest.”

Refreshing their glasses of champagne, he gave a wolfish smile. “So you’d think, but Drake-ya’s got an instinctual, animalistic side that’s just so much fun to rile up. Besides that, I observed his physical reactions whenever we crossed paths, and wouldn’t you know it? They were damningly similar to yours.”

Picking at the remains of the charcuterie board, she munched on a piece of cheese to keep her body’s natural responses under control. Keep it together, she thought stubbornly. Even if I did mix business with pleasure, there’s no way I’m letting him win. “Pretty sure the heat of battle elicits similar responses. I think you were just looking for clues that weren’t there in a desperate attempt justify a hopeless crush.”

Her sass received a sharp laugh in reply. Handing Nami her glass, Law brushed the tips of his fingers over hers as he stated, “Maybe, but my theory was undeniably proven when Penguin, Ikkaku and I snuck onto his ship and found him moaning my name while jerking off in the shower.”

Nami nearly choked on her drink, the bubbly wine burning as it tried to make its way up her nose. No wonder Penguin wanted to repress that, she thought, mortified for the poor first mate. She’d probably feel the same way if she’d overheard someone masturbating to the thought of Luffy. “Oh my god.”

“You should have heard the things he was saying—fuck, harder Law! Put that dirty mouth to good use, you bastard!” Law moaned in her ear, mimicking his rival’s deep, guttural growl.

“M-maybe he had a hard-on for justice. You know, the actual law,” she argued weakly. She didn’t even really know why she bothered—it was clear he’d been right, considering how he and Drake had fucked at least once, but she just felt a need to try to knock him down a few pegs and keep his ego in check.

“Mmm, do you really believe that?” he hummed, honey eyes regarding her with amusement as he took a sip of his drink. “I think you’re just looking for clues that aren’t there in a desperate attempt to justify your need to be contrary.”

“Oh, shut up,” she grumbled, downing her drink and pouring the last of the bottle into her glass. “Fine, so Drake was utterly repressed from his time in the Navy and you were able to use that to get him into bed.” A thought came to her, and she raised her eyebrow curiously. “Wait, he didn’t leave the Marines because he fell in love with you or something, right?” That…would be kind of tragic, actually. Despite the sexual tension, the two Supernova hadn’t seemed to be on the friendliest of terms, so if Drake had defected for Law only for their relationship to sour…

“God, no,” he laughed, finishing off his own glass of champagne. “Drake-ya was dishonorably discharged not long after he massacred a village rumored to be sheltering pirates. He may seem honorable and composed, and I’ll admit he usually tried to avoid senseless cruelty, but when situations called for violence, he was cold-blooded and bloodthirsty. I think his family history also played a role; his father had defected and turned pirate, so I imagine there was a bit of a glass ceiling Drake-ya knew he’d never overcome.”

“And you know this how?”

“Pillow talk.”

Nami mulled his words over carefully. “Was Drake close to his father?”

“From what he told me while completely shitfaced, Diez Barrels had once been a Marine Drake-ya wanted to emulate, but when he switched sides, he was nothing short of an abusive monster.”

Pity welled up in Nami’s heart at the implications. “Poor guy.”

“You do remember this is the same man who tried to kidnap you, right?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it must not have sucked for him; looking up to someone, wanting to be just like them, only to be let down in spectacular fashion.”

For a brief moment, Law tilted his head, the brim of his hat casting a shadow across his face, but his voice was tight as he replied, “Enough about Drake-ya.” Clearing his throat, he turned to catch their waiter’s eye, pointing to the empty bottle of champagne. When his gaze returned to Nami, his tone was back to normal. “I’m getting a little jealous with all this talk about another man.”

She frowned. Nami could tell she’d hit a bit close to home there. Had Law once looked up to someone? Part of her wanted to pry; the man was uncharted waters, and the cartographer in her itched to discover his secrets and map them out.

But more than anyone, she respected wanting to keep a painful history private. “Then what do you want to talk about? Because if you want any more of my past, you’re going to need to buy me more than another bottle of champagne,” she replied before knocking back the final sip.

He raised an eyebrow, impressed. “You drank quite a bit of that, Nami-ya, and yet I’m not noticing any signs of inebriation. It seems Mugiwara wasn’t exaggerating when he bragged about your tolerance.”

“Please, this is nothing—Zoro and I could drink whole taverns dry and still walk a straight line. Hell, it was one of my favorite ways to swindle pirates; get in good with the crew, outdrink them, then swipe their treasure while they were all passed out.”

“Interesting. You may be physically weak, but your liver sounds formidable.”

The lights, dimmed, and Nami glanced around curiously. Law chuckled, drawing her closer and pointing towards the stage. “Looks like the show’s about to start,” he murmured in her ear as he settled in, the arm around her waist telling her that she wasn’t moving for at least the duration of the song.

The band played a low, steady beat as a handsome man in a white silk blazer escorted a curvaceous woman with bold red hair wearing a silver dress onto the stage, the spotlights hitting the sequins in a way that nearly distracted from the daring slit and sexy black garters underneath. Turning her back to the crowd, she swayed her hips to the rhythm as the man took the microphone.

“Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen,” he drawled, tossing the crowd a smirk that could give Law’s a run for its money. “We’ve got a great night in store for you. I see a lot of new faces out there—as well as some familiar ones—so I’m not gonna yammer on too long. I want you to sit back, enjoy the service, the scenery, but most of all, enjoy the show.”

As he finished, he signaled to the band, who immediately transitioned into a smooth but lively tune, Hiroshi’s saxophone front-and-center, and the red-haired woman turned around, sensually dancing with the emcee as he began to sing.

It ain’t no big thing to wait for the bell to ring It ain’t no big thing The toll of the bell

Aggravated, spare for days I troll downtown the red-light place

Jump up bubble up - what’s in store? Love is the drug and I need to score

Enthralled, Nami watched as the pair performed, the song turning into a duet as they moved, the woman’s low, husky voice sending a thrill down her back. Or perhaps it was Law’s fingers stroking idly along her side—far from his groping in the alley, but the light touch was just as hot. Thighs clenched as the male singer bent the woman over suggestively, and she hoped Law was too focused on the show to notice her aroused blush. She didn’t want to imagine herself and the Supernova next to her in their place, but with the woman’s red hair and the man’s cocky smirk, it was really difficult not to picture the sensual scene the song suggested—her and Law stumbling around a dark room, locked in a passionate embrace, until finally they made it to the bed…

God, she joked about Drake being repressed to give in to an asshole like Law, but clearly, she was just as pent-up.

When the song ended, Nami let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, quickly going for her refilled champagne, gulping it down to wet her suddenly dry mouth. She hadn’t even realized Hansuke had refreshed their drinks as she hadn’t been able to pry her eyes from the stage, too lost in the song and her fantasy.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Law smirking in an all-too-knowing manner, but before he could comment, they were once more interrupted, only this time by the gorgeous singer who had left the stage to visit their table.

“Captain Trafalgar,” the red-haired woman purred, voice husky with an edge of a rough accent that somehow made her even more glamourous, “I heard you were back in town.”

“Excellent opening act, Haiko-ya, as usual,” Law replied, standing up to gallantly kiss her hand. “Oscar may be your prized vocalist, but everyone knows you’re the real star up there.”

“You charmer. Still sure you don’t want to quit piracy and come work for me?” she asked with an inviting smile. “I could use a man of your talents.”

“I’m sure you could, but as much as I like this club, staying in one place just doesn’t appeal to me. I like to wander, you know.”

“Pity, but you can’t blame a woman for trying. After all, who wouldn’t want a skilled doctor and enforcer on her payroll? Especially with my husband’s…accident,” she replied, tone suddenly going sour.

“I assume Jinzo’s challenging your claim to Kimo-ya’s share of the business?”

“Oh, he’s doing more than that—he’s trying to compete against my business. Opening his own club and even a few brothels so he can steal my clientele—rumor has it that’s why he’s being so stingy with his black market clients. His recent investments have put him in the red, and he he’s going to have to do something drastic to recoup the cost.”

For a brief moment Law frowned, though his lips soon turned back up into his calculating, sadistic grin. “Until then, his broken promises could earn him quite a few enemies.”

“Oh yes. I hear X Drake in particular was extremely pissed that Jinzo didn’t have his money today.”

“He was even more so when I told him that there’s no way he’d planned on paying his asking price.”

Haiko tsked. “Oh dear. It would be such a shame if some frustrated client were to cross Jinzo’s path before his latest business venture can properly take off.”

Behind them, Nami swallowed audibly, catching onto their intentions. Law glanced at her over his shoulder before returning his attention to Haiko. “Now’s not a great time to talk business, but perhaps we could continue our chat after the show. Jinzo’s trying to screw over a lot of treacherous people, myself included, and while I’m not interested in your job offer, I’d be happy to negotiate a deal that could benefit us both greatly.”

Her blood red lips curled upwards, eyes alight with interest. “Meet me in my office at nine-thirty sharp—it would be a pleasure doing business with you.”

“Before you go, I want to introduce you to my date,” he drawled, gently tugging Nami out of her seat. “Haiko-ya, this is Cat Thief Nami.”

“Ah, the woman who swindled Jinzo out of a lot of money,” the businesswoman replied, pleased smile fixated on the younger woman as she shook her hand.

“Does everybody know about that?” Nami squeaked.

“Oh, darling, it was the best piece of news I’ve heard all day. And not everyone knows—yet. I just happen to have a few eyes and ears stationed close to him so he doesn’t try to do to me what he did to my darling Kimo. I may not be able to prove he was involved, but it never hurts to be ready for anything.”

“Very true,” Law agreed. “So, I’ll see you at nine-thirty?”

Haiko blew him a kiss as she sauntered off. “Absolutely. And as thanks for embarrassing that piece of shit, your drinks are on me tonight. Keep it up, Miss Cat Thief, and you might just earn a VIP membership here, too.”

Nami couldn’t keep herself from staring as the woman left. Beautiful and glamourous though she was, she totally believed Haiko was the sort who would slit a man’s throat with a smile. She had a dangerous aura about her, and given how casually she and Law spoke, Nami was certain an ill wind was blowing.

“You two are going to do something to Jinzo, aren’t you?” she asked, sweat prickling at the back of her neck. She had no sympathy for the man, but she hoped whatever Law was planning didn’t involve her; the last thing she wanted was to get caught in the middle of an underworld power struggle.

“Mmmm, don’t worry your pretty little head over that, sweetheart,” Law purred as he tugged her towards the stage. His eyes were half-lidded and inviting, and Nami’s breath caught in her throat as her heart stuttered. Maybe it was just the aftereffects of Haiko’s performance, but the heat between her legs begged her not to resist him. “Ikkaku’s due to steal you away from me soon, so I’m not wasting another second.”

“What are you doing?” she asked, voice barely more than a whisper.

One hand clasped hers as the other wrapped around her lower back. “It dawned on me that, with how busy you were pick-pocketing rich assholes at the gala, I never got a dance with you. We’re going to remedy that. And wouldn’t you know it?” he rasped, leaning in so close his lips ever-so-slightly brushed her ear. “They’re about to play my song.”

Though initially thrown by his sudden change of tone and forwardness, Nami quickly realized from the feeling of hard wood beneath their feet that he’d led them onto the dancefloor. Before she could protest or break away, Hiroshi noticed them, tossing a wink and pointing them out to the male singer from earlier. Oscar quietly chuckled as he handed over the microphone, even giving a playful bow before stepping over to a xylophone.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are graced with the presence of the man who inspired this next song, the one and only Dr. Heart Stealer!”

As the music began, Law swept her into a dance, easily leading her in time to the lively beat.

Why is everyone so impatient? Recklessly jumping into things Crushing backstabbing

To achieve your goal Sometimes you just need to dive deep, hide yourself Scan the situation, that’s all

Welcome to Trafalgar’s ROOM Look into the mirror and see Are you who you really are? Welcome to Trafalgar’s ROOM Shall I steal what’s most precious to you?

Dr. Heart Stealer

Once you’re addicted, you can never escape…

As Hiroshi crooned the lyrics, Nami forced herself to focus on keeping pace with Law, and not on the surprising suggestiveness of the lyrics or the heat of the doctor’s palm on her exposed back. There were mere inches between them—enough space to properly move, but still so close that their breaths and body heat mingled. He was a surprisingly good dancer, too, gently guiding her across the polished floor in time to the beat, giving the occasional spin and dip, all while those golden, hungry eyes never left hers.

If something’s important, hide it away Once you shout about it out loud It’s just too naive, so sickening

Waiting is not a futile thing With enough clinical data You won’t make a mistake, there’ll be no trouble

Welcome to Trafalgar’s ROOM It’ll be over once your space’s safety is breached Welcome to Trafalgar’s ROOM Because I know what’s most precious to you

Dr. Heart Stealer

Once I set my target, I’ll definitely get it

Don’t run away, come join me Show me how you dance

Welcome to Trafalgar’s ROOM Look into the mirror and see Are you who you really are? Welcome to Trafalgar’s ROOM Shall I steal what’s most precious to you?

Dr. Heart Stealer

Once you’re addicted, you can never escape…

At last the song came to an end, and while Nami wanted to blame her breathlessness on the dancing, she knew at least a little of it had to do with the way Law was looking at her. His intense stare sizzled her skin pleasantly, and she had no choice but to admit that, as much as she wanted to fight it, the song was right.

If she let herself get addicted to him, she’d never escape.

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modestlyabsurd · 6 years ago

Text

Divine (Loki x Reader)

Trying to ingress a home quietly is much harder than it seems. Especially when your feet might as well be sacks of rocks and your hands would rather not cooperate.

The sound of heavy approaching footsteps and keys jingling roused Loki from the trance of his story. His eyes light up, locking on the door waiting for it to open. A smile overtakes him. Your return is always a comfort.

The door opens. "Hey," you whisper as you pull your keys from the lock and close it securely. "I told you not to wait for me."

"I know, but..." he trails off, watching you kick off your shoes - not very neatly - at the door. He was particularly fond of you in this form; wild strands of hair framing your face, your cheeks flushed with exertion and your eyes drooping adorably.

"But what?" you saunter over to him. "You can't help but await the exciting event of my coming in and falling asleep?" Your sarcasm is weak. It's impossible to stay annoyed with Loki. The genuine happiness he exhumes when you arrive home from work is heartwarming at the least. And as much as you hate to admit it to him, arriving home to your shared apartment, your first home together with Loki every night is one of the most amazing parts of your life.

He's as cute as he can be, all curled up in his night clothes on the little loveseat you bought second-hand, a book in his hands, the amber lamp light casting regal shadows upon his face. The modestly sized TV plays softly in the background. His hair is loose and freshly washed. You sink into the loveseat next to him, soaking up every bit of it; the closeness, the smell of him.

"A hard shift?" his nose nudges your head.

"Yeah, it was." You sigh. Loki always looked forward to this. "There must've been some event happening that I didn't know about, because people were just coming in left and right in these big groups ordering drinks and shit. And it seemed like I got every single one of them; either that or everyone else was just conveniently unavailable to help. I didn't even get to take a break until last minute, which didn't even really count because we closed right afterward. Ridiculous."

You blew a piece of hair out of your face. Loki finds it incredibly sexy when you do that. The after-work rant!

He folds the book together and places it on the side table before wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him. He gives you a long, full kiss on the temple of your head, and on your clothes he can smell both the raw scent of you, and the food you'd served all evening.

"Why do you continue to do it every night? Since it's so ... draining."

"I'll show you why," you shift on your legs to reach into your back pocket, subsequently leaning most of your weight into his shoulder. When you sit back down, a fat wad of green money appears in your hands, and you proudly spread the bills out like playing cards. "Two hundred and thirty-five dollars, baby."

Part of Loki is certainly impressed, as normally you jokingly declare "I'm making two hundred tonight!" before you leave for work. Seldom does it actually happen.

So, of course he gives you a high five.

"Are you proud of me?"

"Unspeakably proud, my love. Well done indeed."

Your cheeks become heated as they stretch from your huge smile.

"But you always make me proud. Even if you only make your salary."

"Goodness gracious, don't jinx me!"

You go to stand up, ignoring the dull ache in your back, and make way to the shower. The bun in your hair is nearly nonexistent at this point, which makes it much easier to untangle the hair tie from it.

After giving your hair a much-needed shake, you notice in the kitchen an empty sink. Complete with spotless countertops and the piney scent of cleaner.

"Who cleaned the kitchen?"

"I did."

"Sure you did," you blew off, and received nothing but an awaiting silence. "Wait, you actually cleaned?"

"I'm afraid so." He's so happy with himself.

"You've never cleaned anything!"

"Hey!"

"What? I'm not wrong. And what about your dinner?"

"Taken care of."

"Shut up."

"You know, a small bit of praise wouldn't be terrible."

Doing the dishes and wiping everything down was something you've always been used to doing for yourself, and never minded doing for Loki either. You just didn't expect those kinds of things from him - he always shows he cares in other ways - hence your surprise.

An eyebrow goes up as you rack your brain on the way to the bedroom. Gotta be a reason, you thought.

"No 'thank you'? Not even 'looks nice?'"

"What're you trying to get?" You lower your chin at him, and he turns pink immediately.

"Well, I wasn't exactly making a conscious attempt to get anything, but if you're offering -"

"I'm not."

Loki grits his teeth and whispers "damn" before flashing you a wink. He knows exactly which buttons to push to make you blush.

"You really didn't have to do that," your voice carries through the hallway as you enter the bathroom. Loki stays back, having learned after being yelled at so many times to not look as you undress for a shower. He doesn't understand it, why you're so shy when you're so beautiful. How even though he's bedded you, thoroughly bedded you, he still isn't allowed to look.

But alas he complies, since you seem exceptionally tired tonight.

"It truly wasn't any trouble, darling. I may have even enjoyed it. Just a bit. A small bit. A very tiny bit. Microscopic, borderline invisible - "

"Alright, alright, I get it!"

Loki laughs, gathering your work clothes from the floor. After tossing them in the laundry basket, he puts two clean towels in the dryer before making his way to prepare the bedroom. The gray sheets are still rustled from the morning, so he straightens and smoothes them out, fluffs the pillows. Lights a couple of your favorite candles.

He can hear you humming to yourself over the sound of showering water. Steamy air wafts in from the bathroom, bringing with it the smell of your shampoo. He breathes in. He wonders how in the Norns he got so lucky. He wants to peek in the shower, to hear your adorable shriek ... but he refrains.

"Loki!" you shriek from the shower.

Not quite what he had in mind.

In a couple steps he's in the bathroom. "What's wrong?"

"I got shampoo in my eye."

"Darling, I thought it was an emergency."

"It is an emergency!" Before you finish, a pale hand reaches through the shower curtain with a cloth. "Thank you."

Swish!

The curtain yanks back.

"Loki no! Get out!"

"My, my. What a wonderful sight."

"Loki I swear to God - give me the rag! It burns!" Oh how cute you are; wet skinb suds in your hair. Turned away giving a perfect view of your backside. Nursing your eye with one hand and scrambling to cover whatever you can with the other - which isn't very much.

The bathroom walls reverberate the deep, lovely laughs from the trickster.

When he's decided you've suffered enough, he pries the hand from your eye and places the cloth in it. "You're blushing, love."

"It's probably blood pouring from my eye, you dickhead!" Blindly, you grab for the curtain. Your stinging eyes can't tell that Loki is holding it out of your reach.

"Can you see?"

You huff. "Yes."

"Then look at me."

"No! Get out of here, you perv!" Even as angry, disrespected, frustrated, tired, and in pain as you are, no matter how hard you try you can't hide your smile. It used to be embarrassing, but now it's rather flattering - that he just has to steal a look at you every once in a while. That he thinks you're so attractive.

He makes you feel attractive, too.

"Fine," he sighs before dropping the curtain, casting a dim shadow in the shower.

The cloth helped the burning so you could finish rinsing the shampoo out of your hair. "Y'know, you could've just asked to join me. That would've been less pervy," you call out.

"It isn't my fault that you're so tempting. You're practically a walking tease."

"I literally burned my eye with shampoo, how is that teasing?!"

"Being gone for so long and then beckoning me into the bath, while you're showering, all for an eye injury."

"Oh, well please forgive me for accidentally getting acid in my eye while in a very vulnerable position. My bad, all on me."

This banter is nothing new. In fact, it's one of your favorite parts about Loki; being able to go back and forth with sarcasm, wits, and arguments of points, knowing that all is in fun.

Even if he is a dickhead.

The bathroom door creaks as it shuts, but before it latches Loki adds, "Oh, by the way?"

"Hm?"

"You are absolutely divine." Which is why I'll always look, even when you ask me not to.

"Mmm, whatcha doing?" Your sleepy voice calls.

Waking up in the middle of the night for no reason is unsettling enough. Then add not finding your other half sleeping peacefully next to you.

Loki is in the living room, curled up on the little loveseat with papers splayed all around him. Your worried voice has pulled him out of a concentration, making him spring up and approach you.

"Oh dear, are you alright? Have you had a nightmare?"

"If I did, I don't remember it," you yawned.

His hair is tied away from his face in a loose bun, the one you showed him how to do, and unlike you, he is wide awake.

"Why aren't you in bed? What's all those papers for?"

His head drops sadly, and he gently holds your elbows as they hang tiredly at your sides. "I didn't want you to know right away."

Your suspense and awareness is increasing by the second. "Know what?"

"I, ehm, I was eh," Loki sighs. He hates stumbling over words. "I was filling out employment applications."

"What?" you whisper, confused. "Why?"

He looks slightly over your shoulder, choosing the best words he can. "Because, I don't feel it's fair that the burden of financial security falls solely to you, when we are a team. You work so hard serving others every single night, just to have funds to provide everything for the two of us. You worked until eleven o'clock tonight and you've still got to work more tomorrow. I-I-I would just like, to, to perhaps share that burden. So that it doesn't fall on your shoulders alone."

By the time he's finished, he looks like he could cry. But he doesn't. He retains a composed, sure-of-himself appearance.

You're the one who cries like an idiot.

"Loki..." you drawl and your voice cracks, half from laughter and half from stifling tears of overwhelming gratitude. "Loki, you don't have to do that. I truly don't mind what I do."

"Yes, but we can both agree that you deserve a break. I know I don't have to. I want to. I live here as well; I consume food, I use electricity, I use the water. I'd like to make a contribution, I don't expect you to allow me to freeload."

His feelings have brought an unconscious smile to your lips. Loki always shows he cares in many different ways - his words are one of them - so much so that the financial aspect of your home together didn't make a difference to you. Sure, some months are more stressful than others, but going through it all with Loki by your side made it more than worth it.

You don't know what to say.

"Loki, you really don't have to do that, I - ouch - " your neck pops, "I don't mind at all working for us."

"Your body seems to disagree," he winks.

"Shut up. Hey, that massage really helped," your cheeks warm up.

It's a beautiful thing when he speaks his feelings honestly, unfiltered, straight from his heart. How could you turn that down?

While you let everything he's told you sink in, he grasps your head in both hands and interrupts the process with a sweet, mind-numbing kiss to your lips. Leaving you breathless and dizzy.

It's been over a year of living together, and his kisses still give you butterflies.

You sigh, still only inches from him, "You really don't have to."

"I know. I want to, my love."

Something pops into your mind. "But what about your ID? Your information? What do you plan on doing about that?" you begin to worry.

Loki bares his teeth and sucks air through them. "That's what I was a bit stumped about."

A thought-filled silence falls between you.

"I mean, you could apply for S.H.I.E.L.D."

He stiffens immediately. "Darling, I was thinking more along the lines of a florist or something."

"Think about it!" Oh dear. He knows that look. When your eyes get bright and your voice gets high, and you take his hands into your warm ones. "You could help with intelligence! Especially outer intelligence - you could help with research about Asgard! The life in the other realms! You're so smart, you know all about those things!"

He casts his gaze down, not bearing the pleading, soaring wonder in your eyes.

You shake his forearms, "C'mon, Loki. You wouldn't have to make up anything about yourself. This could even redeem what you've done in the past, or at least begin to. And plus, there's mad money in it. But that's not even what matters to me."

"I can't even begin to think about this," he turns away, pulling himself from you.

"Loki, don't do this," you say softly, but it's a demand. "Listen to me."

"You do not understand my position."

"No, I don't! I haven't seen what you've seen, I haven't done what you've done. You're one-hundred percent right."

The fabric of your flannel pajamas itches your leg. Loki picks at his palm, looking for something to look at.

"But I know you have potential. I know you're one of the smartest people I've ever met. I know you have so much to offer. And look!" you motion to the mess of papers around you, "You clearly have a desire to use it."

Carefully, slowly, you approach him. The icy outer layer can be very hard to break when he gets like this. His stone cold gaze doesn't lift, doesn't waver, but he relaxes ever so slightly at the touch of your hand to his wrist.

"You could change the world, Loki."

"What if I don't want to change the world?" whisper-quiet, his eyes meet yours. "What if I just want this little life with you? I'd like to take some of the responsibility off of your shoulders, yes, but what if just, just this, makes me happy?"

You wet your lips, as they've gone dry at his words. So many things going through your mind, so many emotions. But you push them aside, for the sake of your best friend. "Well, I would still support you. It would be a little hard, knowing that you have so much more potential than just this. But I'd still love you. I want you to be happy, no matter what."

Loki closes his eyes. He breathes in. He wonders how in the Norns he got so lucky. He wants to just scoop you up and hug you, cry into you until all of the emotions are out of him, but he refrains.

"I'll consider it." He takes your smiling cheek into his hand. So soft, he thinks. "Only for you. Because you make me happy."

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