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asphalt-cocktail · 4 years ago

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Hear me out..kay?

'70s John Lennon with younger female home assistant reader getting into a lil dispute because John thinks he let himself go after the Beatles broke up, but the reader believes otherwise and it ends up in the two of them having passionate/slightly rough sex because he's more or so angry with himself than anything? And the two of them are really close too, like John allows her to watch Julian and Sean when he's at the studio or on business trips?? And the two boys genuinely like her???

(a universe where he isn't married to yoko ((no hate intended)) and is single and happy that way..)

Oh my god, I love this idea! 70s john is so pretty. I love how he looks as he gets older. it’s like fine wine. Some of the ages might not add up but we’ll call this an AU for the sake of consistency!

Warnings: Some smudges of angst, smut, insecurities, language

Also it got WAY longe than I expected so i got a little carried away.

As John slept, he dreamt he sat perched on a throne made bones. It overlooked a high cliff that faced the ocean where the wind burned his face and he could hear seagulls screaming in the background.

He was alone. For once he wished he had the screaming crowds and bandmates calling his name. But only the shrieking gulls filled his ears.

The dream seemed to go on for two lifetimes and the atmosphere felt staticky as the waves repeatedly crashed against the shores and hit the rocks. At times he could feel the soft kiss of saltwater sprinkling against his face.

He blinked for the first time in what felt like ages and suddenly his throne of bones began to collapse, he grasped at them panicked as he desperately tried to prevent himself from falling. Just as his footing slipped John shot up in his bed breathing heavily. He blinked to clear the bleariness that had settled from sleep and palmed his bedside table for his glasses and crudely wiped them on his sheets to clear the fingerprints before slipping them on.

Suddenly the room was clear, and the sound of gulls was replaced with Sean’s squealing laughter. It helped John feel grounded in his brief moment of panic. He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, Christ, what did he have to do today again? John ran his fingers through is knotted hair and slipped out of his bed. Right, he had to do several interviews to promote his new album and single that was just released then he had a dinner party. He grimaced at the thought of having to sit for several hours with a group of yuppies and pretend to enjoy their conversation.

As John walked through is bedroom he slipped on a pair of slippers and his dressing gown before stopping in front of his full length mirror. He gave his belly a firm pat, he’d lost a significant amount of weight in the last five years, mostly from depression, but it was still a small victory in his eyes. Atleast he had that going for him.

The bedroom door open and John found himself lured to the kitchen by the smell of syrup and pancakes. He flashed you a tight-lipped smile, “You’re early.” He greeted you.

You shrugged your shoulders, not looking up from the batter as you poured it into the skillet, “I know I thought my exam was going to take much longer than it did.” You said sheepishly. John had been gracious enough to accept you as his assistant and sometimes nanny. He was nice and the job helped you learn a lot about public relations and management, which is what you had hoped to do after you’d graduated from university.

“Do you want some pancakes? Sean helped with them.” You said waving the ladle towards John.

He shrugged, still groggy from sleep. He really didn’t want any, but the way Sean stared at him with his big black eyes begging changed his mind. He sighed after his idle moment in thought and nodded his head, “I suppose I should see what the little chief has made for us.” He smiled and ruffled the kid’s hair.

After breakfast John rushed to get ready, “And you’re okay with taking Julian to piano lessons? Remember Sean still needs to finish that cough medicine from his cold earlier last week, and they can’t stay up past-” he rushed out his of things that he now only worried about due to having children.

You placed your hand on John’s arm and gave him a look, “John I’ve worked with you for almost three years, I think I can handle a day of babysitting. Julian will get to piano lesson on time and Sean will get his medicine; and don’t worry I won’t give them any sugar past 6pm.” John chose to ignore the little wink you gave Julian and Sean from the other side of the room.

He let out a sigh and his shoulders relaxed, “I know, I just” Worry I’m not good enough, his intrusive thoughts echoed in his mind and he shook his head before sharply inhaling, “I just worry about them, you know how it is.” You didn’t, you weren’t a parent. But you understood a little bit with where he was coming from.

You gave John a sympathetic nod and patted his shoulder, “Go on, you’re going to be late for the interview.” You said and turned him, pushing him towards the door.

A small smile settled on John’s face, it didn’t matter if he left for 8 hours or a full week, he still gave you the same reminders and the same list when Yoko or Cynthia couldn’t take the kids. John rushed out the door and you turned towards the boys and grinned at them. They were both nice, Julian had a wee bit of an attitude, but you chocked it up to him being in double digits while Sean was a curious and surprisingly even-tempered boy.

You made sure Julian got to and from piano lessons okay and wrestled with Sean to take the last dose of his medication, bribing him with some cookies. The remainder of the afternoon and evening you watched a movie with them, walked in the park, and drew pictures of the cats.

At lunch time John called to check in on the boys and to let you know it was going to be a late night, after reassuring him everything was fine you resumed your conversation with Sean about some fabulous story he was making up.

John sat at the dinner party, poking at his food and listening to his scientist friend tell them about a fancy new machine they got at work. The autoclave used immense amounts of heat and pressure to sterilize items, nothing survived the autoclave. In that moment John decided he saw some of his own likeness in the machine. As the voices turned to mumbles and John fell deep into thought he found that his own heart was harsh an inhospitable, much like the machine. That was why he was mostly alone in his 17-room apartment in New York City. His two wives couldn’t even make his home their home, and when he received a phone call from Cynthia or Yoko saying they were coming to pick the children up or to send them home on the morrows next fight he couldn’t say it struck him by surprise.

As the evening grew late you put Sean to bed and then an hour later you sent Sean to bed, much to your surprise neither of the boys fought with you tonight over why it was unfair they had different bedtimes or how they should be allowed to stay up later because it was summertime.

Infomercials from the television droned in your ears and lulled you to sleep as you sprawled out on the couch. A hand touching your shoulder caused you to jump and you blinked before John came into focus, “I’m home, you can stay the night in the guest room. It’s too late for you to go home alone.” He said kindly.

You rubbed your eyes and groggily sat up, “How did the meetings go today?” You asked after a deep yawn.

John’s face scrunched up, the way it did when he was frustrated and deep in thought, “It was alright.” He shrugged.

“What do you mean alright? You just released a new single, no one had an opinion on it?” You asked as you made your way through one of the many long hallways that made up his Dakota apartment.

John followed you, hoping for conversation and company, “I don’t know, I must have termites in me brain or something.” He frowned leaning against the door of the bathroom and watching you rummage through the cabinet for your spare toothbrush. Your movements moved on memory and you pushed aside the antacids and ibuprofen to get to the toothbrush you kept in the back of the medicine cabinet. The familiarity in your actions made John feel comforted.

“what do you mean?” You asked before you began brushing your teeth. You watched as John shifted, leaning against the door jam. He felt uncomfortable. You could tell.

He looked away from you, “I’m washed up I suppose.” He dug his shoe into the grout of the bathroom tile, “No one wants to listen to a former Beatle without the other three.” John wanted to open up to you but his body felt like an unstable bag of foam and bones and his ability to speak clearly vanished.

You spat out your toothpaste and wiped the remainder off with the towel that hung on the wall, “Oh come off it,” You scolded him, “You don’t mean that do you?”

Now it was your turn to follow John as he walked through the house, kicking his shoes off and tossing his jacket to the side, “That’s how it seems.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek, “Every time I talk to one of these hokey television people, they just rub it in me face how successful Paul or George are doing.” He frowned, “And I’m just sitting here, a one hit wonder. No songs in the last five years.” He tugged open the door to his wardrobe and pulled out sleeping cloths and tossed them onto the bed, “Paul’s got his 87 children, and his new better band. What do I have?” His cheeks started turning red and his thick brows furrowed.

You listened to him complain about his imperfections, he obviously needed to get them off his chest, “John,” You said softly interrupting his monologue, “You don’t mean that.” You bluntly said.

John looked away from you and huffed loudly, “First I get called the fat Beatle, then I get torn to shreds for saying one thing about Christianity and now I can’t even write a damn song anymore.” He angrily pulled his shirt over his head, “If I can’t even write a damn song what use am I?” He continued to mumble to himself and tug the thin and worn sleep shirt over his head and stuck his arms through the hole.

You walked forward and boldly grabbed John’s wrist as he reached for his lounge pants, “Stop it,” You said in the same tone of voice you used to scold one of the children, “I don’t want to hear you say bad things about yourself that aren’t true.” Your brows knit together as John turned to look at you.

His eyes narrowed to little slits as he studied your face. John felt as though the throne of fame he once sat upon was now crumbling, much like in his dream “You’re just an assistant, you don’t know anything.” He said coldly and shrugged you off.

You know he didn’t mean it, but the words stung, “Yeah, I’m just your assistant who watches your kids, and takes them to piano lessons, and does your laundry, and brings you take away when you are too sad to leave your room.” You shot back.

Your words hit John like a 10-ton truck, and he looked at you shocked, none of his assistants had ever been this bold before. They all cowered beneath the mighty John Lennon, but you were different. Your tongue was just as sharp as his, and he hated to admit it; but he liked the way your brows furrowed, and your eyes ignited with fire every time you argued back at him. He wanted to get a rise out of you, so he pushed you, “I pay you for it, don’t go around thinking you’re special. I could post your job in the paper and have hundreds of college kids lining up to work for me.” He hissed stepping towards you.

You were backed into a wall, literally and figuratively, you felt at a loss for words. John was right and you both knew it, what was the worst that could happen if you pushed back a bit? “Do it, I dare you.” You scoffed and moved to push past him, “Surprised anyone would like to work for a washed-up Beatle.” You mumbled under your breath knowing that he would hear you.

John brought his arm up and pushed you back into your spot between the wall and pushed his lips against yours. It was hard and messy; your teeth clicked together, and your noses knocked. It took a moment for you to realize what was happening until John roughly shoved his knee between your legs. You let out a whimper feeling him pull away and start leaving hot open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and trailing down to your neck. Your chest heaved against him and you swallowed thickly, and you desperately tried to focus as he continued to latch onto your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin, “John.” You whined and ground yourself against his thigh.

He loved how you practically purred his name as you spoke. John’s hands pushed down on your hips, helping you as you slid against his thigh with wanton need. Your breathy sighs sent a shiver that crept down his spine and settled in his belly, “We can stop, just say it and I’ll stop.” He said rubbing his nose along your jaw.

You swallowed thickly, “Please don’t,” You didn’t want to go back now.

John pulled away and pulled you by your wrist before pushing you back onto the bed. You bounced back against the plush large mattress and laid against the pillows and watched as John knelt between your legs. He rubbed his hands along your thighs and kissed you’re the skin that had become exposed from your shirt riding up and pushed it up more. He sucked and left kitten licks as he exposed more of you stomach and chest, kissing between your breasts and sucking at the soft skin on the sides.

John peeled your shirt off and in one swift movement your breasts were exposed and your top and underclothes tossed aside. He dove against your neck again, deepening the marks he’d already left prior and adding new ones, nipping at the skin and inhaling your scent. You reached your fingers and laced them in his soft long hair. You’d always wondered how it felt and how it smelt. You found yourself burying your nose into the side of his head and breathing deeply. He smelled like stale smoke, the gum he always chewed as a nervous habit, and like his eucalyptus shampoo. It made your brain feel dizzy.

Your legs wrapped around John’s narrow hips and pulled him flush against you. He groaned feeling your heat against his awakening erection and ground against you. he felt like he was 18 again, sneaking home some blurry faced bird through the back door at Mimi’s after coming home too late. But this felt better, it wasn’t some random company for the night; it was you.

The assistant he hired on a whim because he needed someone to watch Sean while he flew to LA for recording, the same person who folded his laundry, the first person he told of his divorce from Yoko. Even in his dream as he stood alone on the edge of the cliff as his throne collapsed, he knew if he called your name you would come.

Now, here he was; swallowing your moans eagerly in his mouth and listening as you left ragged breathy gasps in his ear as he ground against you. His hands fumbled with the buttons on your pants before he finally gave up and pulled them open, the small button popping off and bouncing to the other side of the room. John kissed your hips and along the lower half of your stomach and it twitched.

You squirmed, looking down and seeing his intently focused face as he yanked down your underwear and jeans and carelessly tossed them aside. You suddenly became aware of your nakedness as you stared down at John, fully clothed in a loose sleep shirt and the pants he wore today. Your eyes trailed his body and you sat up, tugging at his shirt. Your movements were hesitant and less confident than his. John’s hands guided his shirt up and he tugged it off, throwing it to join the rest of your discarded cloths and you ran a hand along his chest. Admiring the freckles and imperfections that made him distinctly human. He pulled back and shrugged his pants off and resumed his spot between your legs, pushing you back down.

John kissed the sides of your knees and made his way up your thighs, “Is this okay?” He murmured.

You shivered feeling his lips moving against your legs and nodded your head, urging him to continue. The pit of nervousness that settled in your belly violently vanished as you felt John’s hot tongue swipe between your folds and lap at you, “Jesus Christ,” You gasped out.

You could feel John smirk as he hooked his arms under your legs and pulled you close. He spread you apart, groaning and rubbing your clit with his thumb, “Has anyone ever done this to you before?” He asked glancing up at you.

You swallowed thickly and shook your head, “N-no,” You choked out.

John hummed acknowledging your answer and licked at your core again, taking his time to trace lazy shapes around the bundle of nerves. It sent a tingle that rang through your whole body, from the tips of your toes to your fingers and you desperately reached for John’s hair to keep him in place.

Your toes curled and you pressed John’s face closer against you and bucked your hips, grinding against his face. He groaned and pressed back, pulling you closer against his face. The plug between your brain and mouth disconnected and your mind felt like it was swimming. The string in your stomach tightened as you continued to grind against John’s tongue as he lapped at you. Your soft breathy sighs climbed in pitch before it snapped and your hips squirmed against him. John firmly held you down and he harshly rubbed your clit. The burning sensation caused your toes to curl, your eyes to blissfully shut, and made your legs shake. Your hips tried to jerk away from his hand, but he held you down, watching you writhe, jaw hanging slightly ajar.

“St-op” You choked out and gripped his wrist, letting out a sob as he pushed you to your peak once again. Your chest heaved and your legs shook as it washed through you. You curled into yourself and your face scrunched up.

John left you no room to breathe as he pulled your face close to his and captured your mouth in an open mouth. His tongue explored your mouth and you could taste yourself. You gripped at his forearms and pulled him back down, thumbing his briefs and tugging them down. John smiled against your mouth as he wiggled out of them, twisting his legs and shifting before he finally gave up and broke your kiss for a moment to tug them the rest of the way down.

You reached to kiss him and frowned as he pulled away, settling between your legs and rubbing his cock teasingly between your wet folds before he pushed in. You gasped, feeling John stretch you as his pelvis pushed against the back of your legs. He sat there for a moment and his face reached up and cupped yours as he hovered just inches away from your face.

You brought your hand up and placed it on John’s, his thumb traced your bottom lip and he slowly moved his hip, pushing deep inside you. Your mouth fell open and you let out a soft moan. John eagerly took the opportunity to slip his thumb into your mouth and pushed harder into you as your lips wrapped around it.

John’s hands gripped your hips as his picked-up speed, pulling them against him and making your skin slap together. He fell over you and you wrapped your arms around him pulling his body close to yours. His head fell next to your shoulder and he messily kissed up your shoulder and up to the side of your mouth before you captured his. Your kiss lacked tact and was only motivated by wanton need for each other. Your teeth clanked harshly together, and you clung to John as though he would vanish from you in an instant.

John broke the kiss and latched onto your neck once again, nipping at the skin and leaving a lingering and dull pain as he continued his trail before settling near your ear. John’s grunts and soft breathy sighs were perhaps the best sound’s you’d ever heard. In that moment you didn’t care that your bodies stuck together with sweat, or that your head kept bumping against the headboard.

You found yourself reaching for John and whimpering as he pulled away and hooked his arms under your knees and brought them up, leaning onto you and pushing deeper inside you. Your back arched off the mattress as he pulled back and began to slowly rut deep inside you.

John clenched his teeth together and hissed, feeling your walls twitching around him as he continued his languid pace, “Please,” You said softly, your brows knit together and your eyes looking helplessly up at him.

His lips spread into a knowing smirk, “Please what?” His voice sounded ragged and strained as he continued to tease you.

“More please,” You barely recognized the whiny tone of your voice.

“Yeah?” He asked and harshly snapped his hips against yours, “Like that?” He asked snapping them again. The headboard lightly tapped the wall as John’s thrusts grew harder and faster while your staccato moans followed jointly. John watched you, your mouth hanging open and skin shiny from the combination of his and your sweat that coated your body. He felt more human in this moment than he’d felt in a long time.

John’s brows knit together, and his thighs clenched, he didn’t want this to end. You pulled his arms and pulled him close to you, not caring if it seemed like you were being clingy, “Come inside me,” You breathed out next to his ear.

John’s body seized up and he huffed out a shaky haggard breath before he came, holding you close against his body and riding out the high that fogged over his senses.

For a moment he laid on top of you, softening inside you but enjoying the intimate closeness the two of you shared in your post coital haze. John kissed your shoulder before pulling back and kissing your lips. He pulled back and the two of you smiled at each other.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

You couldn’t help but turn your head and breath out a small laugh before John rolled over to your side. The two of you laid on top of his wrinkled duvet staring at each other. You pursed your lips and remembered what you said earlier, “I didn’t mean it, what I said.” You said sheepishly looking away.

John’s expression was soft as he looked at you, “I’m sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean it either.” He said his arm now resting on your shoulder. He pulled you against his bare chest and you pushed your knee between his legs, entangling your bodies together as John held you.

#john lennon x reader #smut #ac asks #anon #sin sunday #beatles x reader

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animedaddymilkers · 4 years ago

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Kinkmas 2020: Day 17

Prompt: Age Play w/ Shikaku

Genre: Smut/18+ || Tags: Age Play, Boss/Worker, Mutual Pining, Shower Sex, Creampie, Vaginal Sex || Characters: Shikaku Nara, Female Reader || read it on ao3 here

"(Y/N). My office. Now,” the gruff, irritated voice of your boss broke you from the paperwork you were attending to and you stood, quickly following after him.

You closed the heavy oak door behind you and smoothed your skirt out as you stood in front of his desk. Shikaku was glaring at the window, his hand stroking his facial hair. It was obvious he was fuming from something, trying to calm himself down so he wouldn’t irrationally take any anger out on you. That was just part of his personality that you adored, always so thoughtful for others and in control of his emotions. This week was rough enough for him, the anniversary of his wife’s death having been at the beginning of the week. Now, added to whatever he was upset about currently was sure to be too much for him to handle, especially alone. So, you stood there, waiting patiently and without pressure for him to speak, letting him be ready at his own pace.

“I was assigned the mission,” after five minutes of standing in silence he spoke, the words mumbled so quietly that it took you a moment to process them.

“You… that mission? Alone?! But that was supposed to be assigned to-”

“The strongest shinobi besides the Hokage. Yes. And apparently, that would be me. It’s an honor.”

“It’s a suicide mission! Surely you can’t really be expected to go alone!”

Shikaku finally turned from the window to face you, his expression as stern as always despite his initial unrest, “There’s no one else to accompany me.”

“I can go. Let me be your partner on this mission,” you were adamant in standing your ground on this, unable to accept your boss going out on such a risky mission alone.

“You’re too young.”

“And you’re too old!”

He scoffed before chuckling, catching you off guard as he heartily laughed while sinking into his office chair, “Every time I see that look in your eye and hear that fiery attitude I’m reminded of why you’re a perfect fit here,” he sighed, “I know I’m not going to change your mind on this, no matter how much I’d prefer you stay here safe and sound. But, I admire your tenacity, my little fawn. We leave in four days.”

You sighed and sat down in the chair on the other side of his desk, taking in the fact that he agreed to your offer before continuing, “Thank you, I’ll do my best to support you. We’ll come back. Together.”

“Mm, with you by my side I’d fight to the ends of the earth. But, you have been neglecting your training since being promoted to my assistant. We’re done with work for today, come to my house at dawn, I’ll personally oversee your training. It will be beneficial for us to become more...in sync before the mission as well.”

With a nod, you agreed to his conditions, not about to turn down one on one training with one of the best shinobi in the village, let alone one of the most attractive. After finishing what you were working on before being interrupted, you both packed up and left the office for the day. That night, you tried to go about your routine as normal but couldn’t help your mind from wandering. You thought about the events of the day, that brief moment where he used a pet name for you replayed a million times over, your cheeks heating up each time. Then, your mind would picture the possibilities that tomorrow morning might hold for you. Cheesy visuals filled your head of Shikaku wrapping his arms around you to show you proper form, an idea you no doubt got from cheesy romance movies. As if you need help perfecting your form. You were more than capable of holding your own in a fight and this training was simply to get you back in the swing of things.

The next morning came simultaneously too fast and not fast enough. You showed up at the Nara house, taking note that the house would be more appropriately labeled as a mansion. Dawn had yet to peak across the horizon, but Shikaku was already in the courtyard, kicking the air. Making your presence known, you set your supplies down on the porch before meeting his gaze. His face brightened when he saw you, sending a strange feeling to your chest.

“Ha! Figures you’d show up early. You’re too ambitious for your own good, kid.”

You grinned back at him as you started stretching, “Hey, you started early too, old man.”

He shook his head jovially, always amused when you dished back what he gave you. Without much more small talk, your training began and from then on you were focused on furthering your abilities. After all, the success of the mission was depending on both of you being at your absolute best for the entire duration. Shikaku knew better than to take it easy on you, instead treating you as any other opponent, and more importantly, treating you as an equal. It was a mild relief, but you were confident in your abilities to the point where you knew if he didn’t give it his all you’d lay his ass flat.

Two hours in and you were both fighting like a well-oiled machine, he went in for a hit, you blocked and parried to which he deflected. It ended up in you both barely being able to land a blow because the moves were just too predictable. Another half-hour and you agreed on a break, sitting on the engawa while catching your breath and chugging your water. You glanced over to Shikaku to find him already looking at you and suddenly you realized just how sweaty the training had made you. Alternatively, you also realized just how sweaty training had made Shikaku. The mesh shirt that was usually worn under his vest left little to your imagination, sweat glistening through the thin material. Silently, you thanked whatever gods existed and forced your attention back to a random tree in the courtyard.

“We should...clean up before work. You can use my shower,” he stood up after you agreed and led you inside, “Don’t worry about being quiet, Shikamaru’s on a mission of his own.”

You nodded and took note of the fact, still generally quiet though as he led you through the house to the bathroom. The place was even bigger from the inside and the bathroom itself looked like the size of your bedroom. Without much more thought you stripped once the door was closed and went to step in the shower. Blinking, you stared blankly at the shower knob, why the hell was each shower designed so damn differently? This shit looked like literal alien technology. You groaned and looked at your discarded clothes, there was no way in hell you were getting those leggings on while you were still so sweaty, let alone the sports bra. Grabbing a towel you wrapped it around your body and said a prayer.

“Shikaku…?” You called out tentatively, one hundred percent sure if you weren’t careful you’d get lost within the house, “Shikaku?”

“(Y/N)?” The door ahead on your left swung open and the older man appeared, currently shirtless and Kami, his hair was down.

“Uhm, I can’t figure out your shower…” admitting it out loud was mildly embarrassing and you could see the newspaper headline flash inside your head, ‘local shinobi gets stumped over fancy shower’.

Shikaku chuckled and rubbed his neck, “Forgot about that, yeah it’s a bit intimidating, isn’t it? I’ll show ya.”

You nodded and turned around, leading the way back to the bathroom, leaving Shikaku to trail behind you. Unintentionally, it was a test of will, his eyes desperately avoiding the sight of the towel barely covering the bottom of your ass. His eyes stared a hole into the back of your head trying to avoid your body. He was not going to objectify you, not now, not ever, he was better than this. Yet, he couldn’t help how his thoughts always wandered to you, though thankfully most of them weren’t dirty, or else he probably wouldn’t ever be able to look you in the eyes.

The bathroom couldn’t come fast enough and even as he leaned into the shower to turn it on you had to pry your eyes away from his backside, ignoring the way your eyes could spend ages just taking in all the scars that adorned his torso. He straightened himself out, standing tall again as the water began to spray. Well damn, he made it look so easy. You sighed and nodded in defeat, shower: 1, you: 0.

“Thanks…”

“Don’t worry about it. You gonna need help with anything else, kid? You know how the shampoo works, right?” a shit-eating grin spread across his face and you huffed before shooting him an innocent look.

“Well, now that you mention it, I’m not quite sure I know how, I think I need someone a bit older and wiser to teach me how,” you twirled your hair and batted your eyes, your voice an octave higher, really dialing up your little girl act.

The reaction was instantaneous, if ever there was a moment where you could pinpoint when a man’s willpower broke, this would be it. Shikaku unbuckled his pants and let them drop to the floor, leaving you the deer in the headlights now. The both of you played off the other too well, each pushing it just a bit farther, both refusing to be the one who backed out. That game of constant cat and mouse led you here, standing in the shower as the head of the Nara clan affectionately cleaned your hair. Not like you were complaining, though.

“Such a good little fawn, always eager to learn more. Are you taking in this lesson? Have you learned how to wash your hair, young one?”

“Yes sir, thank you for teaching me. Can you teach me how to wash my body now?” Pushing, nudging the boundary line further you rested your hands on his toned chest.

He smiled softly and grabbed the washcloth. There was no nervousness, most likely thanks to these roles you were both embracing. Instead, you felt confident. If the way you asked for him to wash you was any indication. His hands gently caressed your skin, lathering the soap over your body. Boldly, his hands lingered on your tits, brushing the rough material of the cloth over your nipples, making you arch into him. Your hands rested on his biceps, marveling in the way that they flexed just from washing you. After your torso was scrubbed the cloth wandered to your thighs, silently coaxing you to spread them.

Once you spread your legs his hand cupped your sex through the washcloth, another hand gently holding your face, keeping your eyes locked on his. Your hips instinctively rolled into his touch, a small gasp leaving you as the washcloth grazed over your clit. He grinned and finally leaned in, capturing your lips in his, thumb brushing over your cheek. Kissing back you slid your arms around his neck, keeping him there to kiss you more. His hand rubbed a bit harder before leaving altogether, washing the rest of your body while he kissed you. If his lips wouldn’t have been on yours you would have whined at the loss of contact. Luckily for him, he finished washing you soon enough, not leaving you enough time to complain.

As he hung up the washcloth, you refused to accept that was the end of your physical contact with him, “Can I practice what I learned on you, sir?”

“Well, of course. Learning by experience is always best. Go ahead, little one.”

With his affirmative answer, you reached up, scrubbing his long hair and massaging his scalp. Meanwhile, his hands wandered your sides, rubbing up and down as you tended to him. You made sure to condition his hair thoroughly, it’d be a shame to see those locks of his get dry. When it came to his body you washed it in record time, though you purposely avoided his crotch, saving it for last. Now, it was your turn to tease him, gently rubbing the washcloth over his half-hard cock. His eyes closed and he sighed deeply, trying to resist the way your hand wrapped around him through the cloth.

“Fuck me, Shikaku.”

Slowly, his eyes reopened and he looked at you, almost expecting you to be joking, or maybe he was hallucinating, but you repeated yourself, “Fuck me, Shikaku.”

He let out the breath he was holding and his hands gripped your hips, mouth leaning in to latch onto your neck this time. Carefully, he coaxed you to let him lift you, to let him show off those muscles he worked hard to earn. As if you really needed coaxing to let him do that. Your back pressed against the shower wall, legs wrapped around his waist, holding his hips close to yours. His cock nuzzled against you and he groaned, nipping at your neck. A moan left your lips and your hands went to his hair, tugging on it gently just to get him to groan again.

“I can’t wait any longer to have you, little fawn.”

“Mmm, figures, the old man doesn’t have any patience left in his old age,” you giggled softly, though, in reality, the feeling was mutual as you were more than ready to get railed by him.

“Hmph, damn kids and their smart mouths,” he mumbled into your neck but still reached down, pushing his cock into you slowly.

Your head leaned back against the wall in a silent gasp as his member spread you, deliciously sliding deeper until he hit your cervix. His arms wrapped around you like he was going to lose you, letting you get adjusted to his size before slowly thrusting. He groaned and kissed you as his hips moved at an agonizing pace to the point where you began to move yours forward just to meet him faster. Eventually, he got the hint, though he did prolong it a bit further just to tease you. Finally, he fucked his cock into you like he meant it, quick, deep strokes that hit you in all the right places. With every thrust, you could feel the prominent veins on his cock drag along your walls driving you, almost literally, up the wall.

The first time Shikaku moaned your name you nearly came right then, the sound sending a shiver down your spine and straight to your pussy. How many nights had you imagined what this would be like? Now, to have him fucking you like you were a goddess...it was overwhelming. As he continued to slam in and out of you, your nerves went wild, feeling like your whole body was on fire and the steamy bathroom didn’t help. One of his rough fingers met your clit and you knew you were done for. He rubbed quick and rough in time with his hips and you found yourself falling apart in his arms.

You cried out his name, clawing your nails down his back as your pussy spasmed and clenched around his cock. He held you tight, riding you through your orgasm, fingers still rubbing your clit as your thighs continued to shake. The son of a bitch sent you straight into a second orgasm, a scream of ecstasy tearing from your throat. Your whole body tensed and Shikaku buried himself deep inside of your pussy before he groaned and emptied his load. The feeling was heaven, his warm cum filling you full and as you came down from your high you found you couldn’t wait until tomorrow’s training session.

hope you enjoyed! remember likes & reblogs help me reach more people! :D

#naruto #naruto x reader #kinkmas 2020 #shikaku nara #shikaku x reader #shikaku x you #x you #x reader #reader insert #smut #naruto smut #fic #imagine

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ladykissingfish · 4 years ago

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Highschool with the Akatsuki

*Modern-Day*

Hidan

Behavioral nightmare. Fidgets, drops things, disrupts others’ work, talks during study/quiet times. Has to be constantly reprimanded for his inappropriate jokes and foul language. Sent to the principal‘s office so much that he was asked his opinion when the man was choosing new carpeting. Most of his friends are exactly like him, so if they’re in the same class they have to be seated clear across the room from each other. Can be a good student when he TRIES; but doesn’t see the point in trying, so will just barely be passing his classes with C’s and D’s. Skinny jeans and Vans with open flannel shirts over white or black tank. Wears a necklace with strange symbol on it, when asked what it represents he’ll say “my religion” but won’t elaborate. In the bathroom between every class grabbing “a quick smoke”. Dyed his hair silver as a joke in the 6th grade, has kept it that way ever since.

Kakuzu

As serious as a heart attack, no matter the situation. Incredibly tall and with a stern face; is almost always mistaken for being the teacher by new kids. Has an impressive collection of “old-man” sweaters. The stingiest guy alive with a buck; will actually make you hand-write him an IOU slip over borrowing 50 cents for the vending machine. Decent in all subjects but a star in Economics. Has one or two “friends” but doesn’t seem particularly close to them (or anyone else for that matter). Doesn’t talk a lot in class but when he does it’s usually because he disagrees with a point the teacher is making, and he isn’t afraid to debate him or her until he’s acknowledged as being correct.

Deidara

Deidara is one of those people who needs constant stimulation to keep him engaged in whatever’s going on. Since school tends to involve a lot of tedious repetition, paying attention in class isn’t something he’s the best at. Most likely to “finish up” his homework assignments five minutes before class starts. Grades tend to fall in the B-/C+ range. The type to always pick a seat that’s in the back of the room and/or closest to the window. Has a sketchbook that he carries around with him wherever he goes. Style consists of ripped jeans over fishnets, combat boots, fingerless gloves, band t-shirts and oversized pullover hoodies. Super-long hair tied back in ponytail. One of the first (and only) people at school to *openly* identify as pansexual; gets asked out a lot but always declines everyone because dating “would interfere with his artistic process”. Doesn’t speak a lot in class unless the topic particularly interests him, in which case he will ramble on and on until politely stopped by the teacher. His table at lunch will always be full because others are drawn to his energy and charisma. The art room is his home away from home; on a first-name basis with the instructor.

Sasori

The smart, quiet kid. Tends to keep to himself and always appears to be in his own little world. Doesn’t ever seem to be paying attention in class, but when the teacher randomly calls on him, he has the right answer every single time. Always gets A’s but will get upset over a “low A” (in the 90-94% range). A good budgeter of time and will usually manage to get most of his homework done at lunch or during study hall. Has a (small) core group of friends and not looking to add to it anytime soon. Wears a lot of khakis and long-sleeved shirts or sweaters (even in the summer). Because of his organizational skills, technical mind, and proficiency in using tools, he excels in woodshop; often informally used by the teacher as an “assistant” to help other students with their projects. Absolutely hates gym (his small stature and delicate nature make physical exertion difficult for him); this will be the only class he doesn’t try for an A in, as he skips it as often as possible.

Itachi

Dear God, the girls ((and quite a few guys)) are crazy over this boy. Is thought of as being brooding, and mysterious ... and gut-wrenchingly handsome. Very quiet, rarely speaks in class, but when he DOES, it’s always something deep and profound. Top student grade-wise. Long dark hair and soulful eyes. Style is all black, distressed baggy pants with chains, long-sleeved band or anime shirts, boots, fishnet gloves, heavy silver bracelets and rings. Is polite to everyone but only has a handful of actual friends. Submits poems and short stories anonymously to the school paper; always gets published. Is occasionally persuaded by his teachers to volunteer as a student tutor; line will be literally out the door from people seeking his “help”. Has friends in the drama club so will go to every single school play to be supportive, even if all friend did was lighting or scenery.

Kisame

Tall and athletic; captain of the swim team. Isn’t the most handsome guy but popular because of his personality. Not really the best student, but keeps his grades up enough to be able to keep playing sports. Sweatpants, Nikes, and Letterman’s jacket. The type to step in when he sees somebody getting bullied. Has a secret love for Orchestra music and likes to sit outside the band room when it’s members have rehearsals. Friends with/friendly to absolutely everybody. Will go through more than one tray at lunch. Shines the brightest during gym class. Also a surprisingly good cook; will voluntarily take Home Economics as an elective and be one of the best bakers in the class.

Obito

Known around school as “that one guy with the mask”. Was apparently in a bad accident as a child that left the side of his face heavily scarred; adopted the practice of wearing solid-color face masks to cover damage. Teachers are made aware of his situation so no one ever tries to make him take it off; although he will do so at lunch, at a table of his close friends. Smart and articulate, everyone turns to look at him when he speaks in class. Tall and moves quickly (and silently); nobody ever knows he’s there until he’s right behind them. Dark jeans, boots and will always wear a leather jacket or trench coat, even on ridiculously hot days. Doesn’t laugh a lot but when he does, the sound of it could make anyone fall in love. A big eater of sweets; will always have some kind of candy on him that he will quietly slip beneath the mask and eat during class. When caught by teacher, will claim he had low blood sugar, and because he’s a good student otherwise he won’t be questioned further on it. The type to, at the beginning of the school year, sign up for a ton of after-school clubs, stay in them for a week, decide they’re boring, and duck out.

Zetsu

Oddball kid who sits by himself and talks to himself more than seems normal. Teachers have learned early on not to call on him in class, because he’ll just sit there and give them a silent, intent stare until they move on to someone else. Surprisingly good grades despite never talking/participating. Wears cargo shorts, T-shirts and sandals with socks, no matter the weather. Always goes outside in-between class periods; sometimes misses class altogether just to nap under a tree with his face in the sun. Eventually founds and is “captain” of the school’s gardening club; not many members but the ones that do join are very environmentally conscious, modern-day “hippies”.

Pein

Legitimately has like, 9000 piercings. There’s not an inch of this guys face that doesn’t have a shiny silver stud in it. Red and black seem to be the only colors in his wardrobe; lots of button-up shirts and zip hoodies. Has a ridiculously deep voice and is always super-intense, even when just hanging out with friends. In group projects, he’s always very quickly designated as the Leader. In his group of friends, it’s clear he’s the Leader. Not the best grades but above-average. Spends a lot of time with the blue-haired girl; it’s always rumored that they’re dating although both parties have claimed to be “just friends”. A terrifyingly persuasive arguer; joins and becomes star of the debate team within a week. The type to ask a very deep, pointed question during class and change the entire course of the teacher’s lecture.

Konan

The type to have a lot of close male friends but almost zero female ones. Tends to be the “mom” amongst her group. Excellent student, always the top marks in her class. A lot of admirers but always politely turns down potential suitors. Some piercings but nothing very extravagant. The school used to have a very strict rule about dying one’s hair “wild colors”, but she dyed hers blue and led a successful protest regarding freedom of expression. Her favorite class is literature, especially when they get to the Greek Mythology and Shakespeare units. Does origami as a hobby; when bored in class will sit and tear up bits of paper or napkins and create gorgeous little flowers. Clean and organized in every aspect EXCEPT for her locker, which is a (legendary) jumbled and unholy catastrophe.

#the akatsuki #headcanon #high school #hidan #kakuzu #deidara #sasori #itachi #kisame #obito uchiha #zetsu #pein #konan

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justthehiddleswrites · 4 years ago

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Follow My Lead | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 11 | I love her and the sooner you get used to it, the better things will be.

A/N: This will update every Thursday. There are 13 chapters. There are all sorts of kinds of D/s relationships. This is the one I choose to write this time.

MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Vivian Swann)

Summary: Tom and Vivian have both been unlucky in love, searching for something outside of the bounds of a typical relationship. When the two of them connect via a dating app, Tom is introduced to the idea of being submissive to Vivian. Which is the one thing he never knew he needed. Under the firm hand of Vivian, Tom learns what it means to submit and Vivian learns what it means to be in a loving dominant relationship. But not everyone seems to understand what they have and the best intentions can destroy the strongest relationship.

This Chapter: Benedict keeps pushing on Tom, causing tension. And Vivian visits the set and encounters an assistant who seems interested in Tom in a less than professional manner.

Warnings for story: Dominant/submissive relationship (sub!Tom), lots of smut including but not limited to: vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), edging, denial, teasing, use of restraints, spanking, multiple orgasm, anal play, use of toys.

Tag Lists Are Open! Let me know if you want to be added. Thank you for reading!

“Did you and Ben have a good time?” Vivian asked in the car.

“We did.” Tom half lied. The time was enjoyable, but the constant prodding from Ben was beginning to grate.

“You’re lying.” Vivian crossed her arms.

“No, I’m not.” Tom dug his heels in on this. He could handle Ben on his own.

“Yes, you are. Is Ben giving you a hard time? And don’t lie. It’s so unbecoming.”

Tom sighed. “Yes, darling.”

“Want me to handle it?”

“No!” Tom retorted a bit too abruptly, earning a glare from Vivian. “I mean, no.” He tempered his voice. “I can handle Benedict. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“But I do worry.” She reached out and rubbed his neck. “It’s my job to worry.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He gripped the steering wheel. “It’s nothing. I’ll speak with him.”

“Okay.” Vivian let it drop. For now. She switched on the radio and fiddled until finding a Top 40s station.

By the time they got home, jet lag hit Vivian full force. Tom sensed her energy dropped.

“Why don’t you go lie down and I’ll bring everything in, ma’am?”

She kissed his cheek. “Thank you, darling.”

By the time Tom made his way to the bedroom, Vivian was fast asleep on the bed, fully dressed. He kneeled down and pulled her shoes off, placing them off to the side. He tucked her under the covers and made sure her head was sitting on the pillow. A quick kiss to the forehead and Tom took off to rehearse scenes for tomorrow and make a light dinner.

Vivian slept straight through the night and when she woke in the morning, Tom’s side of the bed cold. She wandered into the kitchen to find a note.

Ma’am,

I didn’t wish to disturb you. I know how difficult jet lag can be. You needed rest. I ate eggs, toast, and beans for breakfast. And coffee. The machine is ready to go for you. I texted you a morning photo and won’t forget to text you my lunch. I might be home a bit late tonight, long call sheet and what not. But I promise to text when I am on my way. Here is a list of some things you might want to do while I’m away. I love you.

Your sunshine,

Tom.

Vivian smiled as she found a list scribbled Tom’s handwriting of museums, spas, parks and restaurants along with his Uber account information.

“So thoughtful.” She grabbed her phone to find Tom flexing in his underwear in front of the mirror that morning, a big grin on his face. Vivian chuckled as she spied herself asleep in the background.

She typed back.

You are the most thoughtful man I have ever had the pleasure of spanking. Thank you, sunshine. You are definitely getting a reward tonight. And that photo is delicious. I might have to keep that one.

Vivian made a cup of coffee and a bowl of porridge with some fruit and set out to ready herself for the day.

Tom gulped as he spied Vivian’s email, grateful he was alone in his trailer waiting to be called to set and not in front of the crew or even worse, Benedict. He hoped for the ability to concentrate on the scenes and for an early ending of the day. Benedict had other ideas.

“Are you messing up on purpose?” Tom hissed as they reset once again.

“Sorry, Tom. I’m a bit distracted.”

“That makes two of us.” Tom muttered. He cleared his throat. “I have plans tonight I care not to miss.”

Benedict’s brows raised. “Vivian taking you off the leash?”

Tom jabbed his finger at his friend. “Stop with the jokes, Ben! They are neither appreciated nor wanted. I love her and the sooner you get used to it, the better things will be.” His nostrils flared.

Benedict opened his mouth, closed it and dropped his chin. “Sorry, Tom.”

“How would you feel if I spoke of Sophie in such a manner?” Tom countered, setting onto his mark.

“I would take your head clear off.” Ben reset too.

“Then consider yourself lucky. Now let’s get through this.”

Ben did better but still flubbed a few lines, much to Tom’s chagrin. It was unlike his friend, the consummate professional. Tom practically ran off the set when the last scene was done and beelined to wardrobe and makeup, hurrying the process along as much as possible. As his driver pulled away, he texted Vivian.

On my way, ma’am.

Vivian adjusted her bra and stockings as she waited by the front door for Thomas. His collar dangling from one finger. She couldn’t stop smiling as his key turned into the lock. Tom grinned as he saw Vivian standing there in a skimpy bra and panty set, along with garters and stockings. She finished the outfit with sky high heels.

“Welcome home, sunshine.” She purred, noticing his pants tenting already. “All your clothes off and into the basket.”

Tom’s hands were a flurry as he pulled his shirt, shoes, pants, and rest of everything off and folded it into the basket. He stood, shifting from foot to foot.

“You are so eager, sunshine.” She stepped in front of him. Her fingers tracing his abs and chest. “Are you ready for your reward?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He shivered as Vivian’s lips ghosted across his neck.

“Good boy.” Her lips hovered over the shell of his ear. Vivian’s hand squeezed his cock. “Let’s put this on.” She held up the collar and fastened it around his neck and then fastened a leash to it. Tom couldn’t help but smirk.

“And to think Benedict thought you were taking me off the leash.”

Vivian tugged on it and led Tom through the house to the bedroom. “On your stomach, sunshine.” She ordered him, unhooking the leash. Tom laid down, shifting uncomfortably against the duvet.

He jumped as something warm and wet dripped onto his skin. Vivian’s hands smoothed it out along his skin. She started at his neck and worked out all the knots as she moved down to his shoulders and ribs. Tom moaned as Vivian’s thumbs pressed into the indents above his ass.

“Your hands are…” Tom sighed. “… magic, ma’am.”

She gave Tom’s ass cheek a playful swat before kneading into them. Tom was certain if he were to roll over, there would be a wet spot on the sheets. His legs shifted open as Vivian’s hands slid down to his thighs. He whimpered a bit when her hands left his body. She dripped more oil onto his legs.

“Gooodddd…” Tom moaned. “yes…”

He stiffened as her hands wandered up. “Do you trust me, sunshine?” He nodded. “Remember your word?”

“Sushi.” he mumbled into the pillow under his head.

“Good boy.” Her hands massaged along his inner thighs and up along his ass. He sucked in a sharp breath when her hands settled between his cheeks and slid down to rub between his ass and his cock. His hips rocked and Tom shifted to widen his legs more for ease of access.

“Do you like that, sunshine? Do you like my hands there, rubbing?”

Tom grunted. “Yes, ma’am.”

Her hand slid up and her thumb pressed gently against his rear entrance. Tom jumped as pleasure shot through him like electricity.

“Fuck!” He bit down on the pillow.

“Very interesting.” Vivian moved back down to Tom’s thighs and calves. She swatted his ass again. “Roll onto your back, sunshine.”

Tom’s head was already fuzzy and heavy, but he rolled onto his back with a moan. As expected, a good size wet spot onto the duvet. Vivian grabbed a small towel and covered it. Tom’s cock bobbed as he settled onto the pillow.

Vivian clicked her tongue as she dripped more oil onto Tom’s thighs, rubbing her thumbs hard into the muscle. “Is someone aroused by their massage, darling?”

Tom’s hands tucked behind his head, his collar jingled along the way. “Yes ma’am.”

She climbed onto the bed, straddling his legs with hers. “That definitely needs to be taken care of. How would you like me to take care of it?”

Tom’s brow furrowed. “I… don’t understand…”

Vivian leaned forward, her boobs pressed against Tom’s cock. “I can use my breasts, my hand,” She jerked him once sharply. “My mouth.” She kissed his treasure trail. “Anything besides my cunt, sunshine. Your reward, your pick.”

Tom’s thoughts spun inside his head. “Uh… I don’t know…” Vivian waited patiently, seeing Tom panicking.

“There is no wrong answer, sunshine.”

He took a deep breath. “Um… mouth?” he questioned.

“Is that a question?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Mouth, ma’am.” He croaked out.

Vivian lowered her head and kissed along his shaft. His hands flew to her head. She stopped and rose. “No hands, sunshine. I will stop each time you touch me.” Tom quickly replaced his hands behind his head.

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry.”

She returned to placing kitten licks along his shaft. Vivian loved how Tom squirmed. She kissed and licked the tip, tasting the saltiness of his precum before taking him into her mouth. Vivian sucked hard and Tom bucked his hips. She released his cock with a pop.

“Do I need to restrain you?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tom commented without thinking.

His eyes widened at his response. Vivian pushed up and walked to the dresser and pulled out some scarves. She made quick work of tying them to the bed frame and then tying the scarves to Tom’s wrists and ankles.

“Too tight?” Tom tugged and shook his head. “Good.” Vivian crawled across Tom’s body to kneel next to him. “Where were we?”

She quickly took Tom back into her mouth and sucked in earnest. Tom gasped as he came in Vivian’s mouth. She swallowed and smiled. Vivian kissed up Tom’s torso before kissing his lips. She tasted of him, tasted of salt. Tom tugged against the scarves, but they held tight.

Vivian sat up and tugged Tom’s head up by the o-ring on the collar. “Eyes on me.” She adjusted the pillows under his head.

Tom’s eyes tracked her movements as she stood and he assumed would untie him. Instead, she walked to the end of the bed. His brow pinched together. “Aren’t you untying me?”

“Eventually.” Her hands slid up her legs.

“But my reward—”

“—is over when I say so.” Her hands reached around and unclasped her bra, allowing her breasts to softly fall as she dropped the bra to the ground. Vivian squeezed her tits, pinching the nipples. “So what will it be this time, hands or breasts?”

Tom’s cock twitched as Vivian continued to play with herself. “Ah… ahh.. breasts? Breasts.” He corrected himself.

Vivian turned around and grabbed the massage oil, dripping it along her chest. She smeared it along her skin, pressing her boobs together. Tom was already semi-hard watching her.

“God, sunshine… already?” She crawled back onto the bed. “You are full of surprises.” She crawled on top of him. “I’m untying your hands, you may only touch my breasts.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Vivian made quick work of the knots and slid back down Tom’s body, kneeling between his legs.

Tom settled his cock between her well-oiled tits and pressed them together tight. He thrusted between them and groaned. Tom continued to buck his hips and his release fast approaching.

“Look at me.” Vivian called out.

Tom gazed down to find her intense hazel eyes piercing into him. She opened her mouth and licked the tip of his cock, even sucking the tip slightly. The whole thing was too much for Tom and he came with a stutter, making a mess all over Vivian’s chest and neck before collapsing against the mattress.

Vivian grabbed a towel from the dresser and cleaned herself up a bit and then snagged the bottle of water and untied Tom’s legs, rubbing his ankles.

“Sunshine?” She sat next to him on the edge of the bed. Tom didn’t respond. Vivian cupped his cheek and shook him gently. “You need to sit up and drink, sunshine.”

Tom’s eyes opened, and he murmured. Vivian helped him to sitting. She held the water bottle out and scratched up and down his back. “Thanks.” He gulped down the water.

“You okay to stand up?”

Tom nodded. Vivian stood first and offered her hand. He was a little wobbly on his legs. She kissed his temple, smoothing the hair stuck to his skin.

“Take a shower and clean up while I heat up dinner.” Vivian undid his collar and placed it on the nightstand.

“Yes, ma’am.” He kissed her cheek and made his way slowly to the bathroom. Vivian chuckled, tugging on a robe, as Tom resembled a fresh born foal standing for the first time.

He emerged about twenty minutes later, his hair wet, wearing that short bathrobe Vivian bought him that first night he stayed over. Tom no longer tugged at the hem. Vivian set his plate down at the table, a simple dinner of chicken, potatoes, and veggies. Tom sat down and took a bite and moaned.

“That is delicious.” Tom tucked into the food as Vivian ate slowly.

“Chew, darling. Chew.” Vivian chided and Tom slowed down.

“Sorry. This is way better than takeout.” Tom mumbled as he swallowed his food and took smaller bites.

“You are not the only one in this relationship who can follow a recipe.”

They finished up the meal and Tom cleared the plates and Vivian opened up the fridge. She pulled out a Tupperware container.

“What’s that?” Tom glanced over his shoulder.

“Dessert.” She opened the lid to reveal chocolate cake.

“Did you bake that?” Tom raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps.” Vivian smirked. “Or perhaps I picked it up at the store.”

Tom peered into the container and stuck his finger into the icing before offering it up. Vivian popped it into her mouth, licking his finger clean. Vivian collected icing and cake on two fingers and pressed them against Tom’s lips. He sucked against them, laving his tongue to devour every morsel. He moaned and leaned towards Vivian as she removed her fingers.

“More please.” Tom purred.

“I love when you beg.” Vivian scooped up more icing and Tom lunged towards her fingers, repeating the process. He whimpered when she removed her fingers a second time. “I think you’ve had enough fun tonight. You have work tomorrow.”

Tom’s eyes lit up, and he wrapped his arms around Vivian’s waist while she put the cake back into the fridge. “Speaking of work,” He pushed her hair out of the way to kiss her neck. “would you like to come to the set tomorrow?”

Vivian leaned against him. “I won’t be in the way?”

“Nonsense. You can see me shoot some scenes, have lunch with Benedict, meet some people, I can show you off…” Tom chuckled against her.

“I think I have just the outfit. I would love to.” She spun in place and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Any shirtless scenes tomorrow?”

“No?”

“Good.” She ripped his robe open and attacked his chest.

Vivian didn’t realize how god awful early Tom woke in morning until his alarm went off.

“Noooo…” she groaned, rolling to tuck into his body. Tom kissed her lips before rolling out of bed.

“I’m afraid the answer is yes. How about I shower first and then make some coffee?”

Vivian groaned something unintelligible. Tom took that as a ‘yes’ and set about getting ready for the day. He showered and set about making a quick breakfast and coffee.

“Darling?” He rubbed Vivian’s back. “It’s time to get up.”

“But I’m on holiday.”

Tom chuckled. “But I’m not. Now drink the coffee while I finish breakfast.”

Vivian sat up and sipped the coffee, sweet as she preferred. It was warm and comforting. Tom set down a plate of toast and eggs. Vivian ate and then headed to shower and dress for the day while Tom finished getting ready. His jaw dropped when she emerged from the bedroom.

“I am definitely showing you off today.” Tom moved to wrap his hand around her waist to kiss her. “Wearing that. Or perhaps I lock you in my trailer?”

“You like?” Vivian spun. Her dress was low cut in the front and a slit up her leg to the knee. It was flirty and showed off her curves. “Not too much?”

Tom kissed her again. “You’re always too much, ma’am. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Vivian tugged on her go to wedges and a sweater as Tom grabbed his bag and they headed out for the day.

Vivian leaned against Tom in the back of the car, still groggy from the early morning wake up. Tom tucked his arm around her, enjoying her warmth with a smile. Her eyes fluttered closed for a quick nap.

“Do I need to stop off somewhere for some coffee, Mr. Hiddleston?” his driver asked, seeing Vivian in the back.

“No, Matt. It’s fine. Just mind the potholes.”

Matt nodded. “Yes, sir.”

When they arrived, Tom nudged her awake. “Darling, we’re here.”

Vivian jolted awake. “What?! We are?!” Her eyes darted around, taking in the surroundings.

Tom smiled and jogged around the car to open her door. “I felt it best to let you rest. I’ll show you around before heading to makeup.”

Tom showed Vivian where his trailer, craft services, the set and other things were before introducing her to Madeline.

“Madeline, meet Vivian.” The young girl extended her hand.

“Pleasure. I’m here to help you out with anything you need.”

Tom kissed Vivian’s cheek. “I’m off to get ready, Maddy, make sure she is taken care of.” Tom winked at Maddie, who blushed in response. Vivian shifted her weight.

“Of course, Mr. Hidd—er, Tom.” Maddy giggled and Tom took off.

Maddy linked arms with Vivian. “You look like you need some coffee.”

Vivian gave a small smile, not sure if she was just insulted or not.

By lunchtime, Vivian was certain Maddy had insulted her. The young woman mooned over Tom at every turn, even in front of her. Tom, to his credit, seemed either oblivious or immune to her overtures. But that did little to sooth Vivian. After watching Tom for a bit, she left to return to his trailer and sulk.

Tom walked into the trailer carrying two plates of salad and chicken, still wearing the Loki wig.

“Darling, is everything alright? Madeline mentioned you took off.”

Vivian bit her tongue, not wanting to spoil Tom’s energy. “I wanted to rest a bit. I was in the way.” None of it a lie.

He set down the food and moved to kneel in front of Vivian, rubbing her calf. “I’m sorry, darling.” His eyes twinkled. “I know how to make you feel better.” His hand slid higher on your leg.

“You need to eat.” Vivian teased.

“Yes, I do.” Tom rucked her dress up and pushed her knees apart. Vivian sighed as he kissed her thigh. His lips trailed up to her core and his nose nuzzled against the fabric of her panties. Her fingers laced through the long hair of his wig and tugged his head over.

“No teasing.” she hissed.

“Yes, ma’am.” Tom hooked his finger through her panties and pulled them to the side.

He wasted no time to lick along her, earning a moan in return. Tom moved his other hand, but Vivian pushed it away.

“No hands, darling.” she breathed.

Tom sucked hard against her clit and she came undone with a soft scream, knowing others could be outside. Vivian pulled him up by his head.

“Thank you, love.” she hummed, content for the moment. “We are definitely growing out your hair. Easier to tug.”

Tom chuckled, burying against her chest. “Yes, ma’am. Beard too?”

“Beard too. Now let’s go eat.”

Tom hopped up and Vivian followed.

Vivian’s mood improved, but the lingering feelings of possessiveness clawed at the back of her brain. Tom would never act on such flirtations. She was confident in his devotion to her. But seeing younger women hanging over what was hers upset her. And she realized what was missing. And planned to remedy it as soon as they got home.

Tom gave a weary smile as they climbed into the car late that evening.

“Why don’t you lay down in my lap, darling?” Vivian offered, tucking her sweater into a makeshift pillow.

Tom complied and dozed off with Vivian, stroking his hair. He was asleep in five minutes. Vivian woke him as the car pulled up to the house.

“Darling, time to wake up.” she cooed in his ear. Tom nuzzled against her and blinked his eyes open.

“I fell asleep?”

“You were exhausted.” Vivian slowly eased him to sitting. “Go inside and lie down, I will bring a quick dinner to you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tom exited the car and Vivian followed.

Tom headed to the bedroom and Vivian made him a quick sandwich, which he gobbled down.

“I’m sorry I am not up to doing much.” Tom shrugged his shoulders as Vivian took his plate.

“You have had a few big days.” She kissed him. “It’s fine.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“I’m going to sit up and watch some TV.”

“Can you…” Tom hesitated. “… stay here? Until I fall asleep, at least? I sleep better with you here.”

Vivian smiled. “Of course.”

She curled up next to him, Tom wrapping his arms around her. His chin settling into the crook of her neck. He dozed off any in about fifteen minutes, and Vivian carefully extracted herself to finish up her evening.

The next morning, Vivian followed Tom out to the kitchen, carrying something behind her.

“Madeline flirts with you.” she stated.

Tom glanced up from his plate. “She does? I guess so. I haven’t noticed.”

“It’s not just her. Susannah and Sarah do too. In fact, I don’t think there was a single female crew member I saw that was immune to your charms.”

Tom smiled. “I must attract them with the energy I give off as a man in love.” Tom attempted to smooth out the tension.

“I don’t like it.” Vivian blurted out. “You’re mine.”

Tom’s eyes widened. “Of course, I’m yours. You’re not doubting us, are you?”

“No.” Vivian pulled the box out from behind her back.

“That’s the ring, isn’t it?” Tom stood and closed his hand over the box. “I’m yours, ma’am.”

“You are mine, sunshine.” She opened the box.

Tom’s eyes welled up. “Yes, ma’am.” Vivian handed him the ring, and he slipped it on his left ring finger. “Perfect fit.”

“It looks good. On you. I expect you to wear it at all times outside of the house, unless working on set in costume.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tom kept gazing down at the ring and spinning it on his finger. He kissed Vivian. “I’ll finish getting ready.”

She grabbed him by the neck and kissed him roughly. “Now you can go.” she commented as they parted.

Benedict is insisting we need to come to his house for dinner tonight. Can we?

Vivian frowned at the message. She tapped out a message.

Ben wants Tom and I to come over tonight for dinner. What’s going on?

Sophie immediately responded.

No clue. But the more the merrier. I think the boys have an early finish today. 7 p.m.?

Deal.

Vivian texted Tom back.

We can. Sophie says 7 p.m. Meet you there.

Tom responded with a heart emoji and pocketed his phone.

“Vivian says yes. She’ll meet us over there at 7.”

Benedict frowned as he ate his lunch. “I’m glad she approved.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston smut #follow my lead

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anubislover · 4 years ago

Text

Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya chapter 19: Lying Hearts

“How can anyone stand to live in a city like this?” Nami grumbled as the light glinted off of yet another painfully white building. True, the setting sun had lessened the glare slightly, but after an entire afternoon of it, she was developing quite the headache, even with the sunglasses.

Law shrugged and continued walking at a leisurely pace, still unaffected. “I’m sure if you’re born somewhere like this it’s easier, but people can learn to tolerate almost anything given enough time, I suppose.”

“Do you think you’d be able to learn to tolerate bread?”

“I said almost. I’d sooner die of starvation.”

She shook her head with a chuckle but kept pace, following his lead. Instead of heading straight back to the submarine, Law had insisted on a few detours through Atifakuto—partially in case anyone had grown suspicious and decided to follow them, but also to scope out potential escape routes under the guise of sightseeing. Nami, for her part, had been exceedingly helpful in this, mapping out in her head which stairways lead where and pointing out various places to hide. If Law found her compliance suspicious, he didn’t say anything; it was in their best interest to work together, especially with some potentially valuable goods on the line, so her behavior was easily rationalized.

For her, however, there was more than artifacts or even belli at stake. This heist had to go well. She needed Law to trust her enough to open up about why he was so obsessed with Amber Lead. Perhaps if he could do that, she wouldn’t even have to sneak into his quarters to take a look at the ledgers. She could just ask and he’d let her in like a rational human being.

Of course, in order for either of their plans to succeed they needed to know where the vase was. Luckily, the rest of the Hearts hadn’t been sitting idle on the submarine. They’d been investigating every possible gallery, art collector, museum, and auction house their prize could possibly be at. The second they had a lead, they’d call on the mini Den Den Mushi.

Until then, though, Law and Nami were forced to meander about the city, planning and killing time.

“So, while we wait for some intel, what else are you going to buy me?” she asked as they wandered the fourth level. They’d passed quite a few shops, and while most had stocked dull business suits similar to the last store, Nami felt her bags were tragically light. They were in a beautiful-if-blinding city, and she was walking away with only one outfit? What a travesty.

Snorting dismissively, Law glanced down at her with a clear look of are you kidding me? on his face. “Nothing. I told you I was only getting you one outfit. I’m your captain, not your sugar daddy.”

“You know, for a man who wants this little job to go well, you’re not putting in nearly the effort you should,” she quipped, a sly smile on her lips, eyelashes fluttering prettily. “I’m supposed to look professional and put together if I’m gonna pull off being your lovely assistant. That means I need matching shoes and accessories. Maybe a cute leather purse or briefcase to really sell it.”

“If you want those so badly then buy them yourself. Or,” he smirked, halting his pace to turn around and catch her chin between his fingers, tilting her head up towards him as he stepped in close enough so she could feel his body heat, “you earn them by doing certain favors for daddy.”

Her cheeks only pinkened a little at his innuendos while she stuck out her tongue and shoved him away. Last night’s dream wasn’t quite as close to the forefront of her mind anymore, but that didn’t mean his smirk didn’t do things to her she’d rather ignore. “Pass. You should know by now that it takes more than clothes for me to play nice.”

“Mmm, I do. That’s what makes it so much fun,” he purred, gold eyes glinting in wicked amusement. One gloved hand was shoved into his pocket while his free arm slung itself casually over her shoulder as he continued stalking along the fastidiously clean road. “But since you’re currently insisting on being a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man to provide for her, you can instead borrow some shoes from Ikkaku, and she might still have a pair of glasses or something from the time she pretended to be a receptionist at a Naval base.”

Brown eyes widened at his statement. Not because he was suggesting that she borrow clothes or anything, but the bombshell he’d just casually dropped in light of her recent discovery.

“Was this for one of your plans?” she asked, shoulders stiffening.

He shrugged like it was no big deal, though he did give her a curious glance at the way she tensed beneath him. “Yeah. We needed someone on the inside, and they’d put out an advertisement for an attractive female in her early twenties. It’s not like Uni or Penguin could do it.”

“But…holy shit, Law, are you serious?” she hissed, dragging him over to an unoccupied part of the street behind a solitary gated tree so she could scold him in private. There weren’t too many people about, but the last thing they need was to get unwanted attention because they’d caused a scene, even if Law totally deserved to get chewed out at the top of her lungs for being such an asshole. “Ikkaku has Marine brothers who want her dead and you sent her into the lion’s den? What the fuck?!”

Caught off-guard by her anger, Law’s eyebrows shot up briefly before furrowing. “She told you about them?”

Damn. In her shock and anger on her friend’s behalf, she’d forgotten that this was a subject she wasn’t technically supposed to know. But instead of admitting guilt, she doubled down and threw on her best poker face.

“Yeah. She told me,” she lied easily. Too easily. It came as naturally as it had back in the days she’d been working under Arlong, getting close to pirates by lying through her teeth and then robbing them blind. How many crews and captains had she deceived before Luffy? Nami had honestly lost count, but once she’d joined up with the Straw Hats, lying to a supposed ally hadn’t been quite as instinctual.

But this isn’t Luffy, and Law’s keeping way more secrets than I am, she rationalized. It’s just a little white lie anyway. He’d be way more pissed at Shachi and Penguin for telling me. I’m looking after those guys.

Law’s expression hardened, and for a moment she wondered if he’d seen through her bluff. She didn’t think she’d gotten too rusty in the lying department, but Law was smart and distrusting in general, so she couldn’t quite tell. Trepidation hung heavy in the air as she waited for him to speak, mind going a mile a minute coming up with new lies and explanations to appease him. Worse came to worst, she could throw the guys under the bus, even if she didn’t really want to, but they were his best friends, so Law would doubtlessly be more forgiving towards them, right?

Thankfully, it seemed his anger came from a completely different place, as he snarled quietly through clenched teeth, “Nami-ya, I am, as you have pointed out rather frequently in the past, a control freak. Do you really think I would devise a plan that required sending my top mechanic into a Marine base if there was even a chance she could be recognized? Especially by her utter shit of a brother?”

She flinched at the vitriol in his voice. It seemed she’d touched a nerve, and unless she wanted to lose all the progress she’d worked for, she knew it was best to back down. “Sorry. You’re right.”

“I’ll accept your apology if you tell me what prompted her to tell you,” he stated, crossing his arms. “It’s not information she makes widely known, even to those who are permanent members of my crew.”

Well. At least this was easy enough to justify, and she’d be doing both Law and Ikkaku a favor, right? Sure, the guys would obviously tell him later, but being the first to warn him might earn her a few more crumbs of trust. “There was an article in the paper about Marine reinforcements coming to the Grand Line. Ushi was interviewed. He seemed pretty intent on taking down the Heart Pirates.”

Law froze, his frown deepening into a dark sneer. The tic in his jaw and the way his fists clenched reminded her of his reaction to Ikkaku having been attacked on Grimm. “That fucker will stay away from Ikkaku if he’s got any brains in him.”

“You’re pretty protective of her,” she said. Sure, he’d perhaps phrased his defense in a way that implied his priority was the plan, it was clear from the hiss in his voice that Ikkaku’s safety had been genuinely considered.

The brim of his hat hid his eyes as he stated, “I’m protective of all my crew. She’s just…it’s hard to find submarine engineers, let alone ones as skilled as her. Ikkaku’s hard to replace.”

Well that stinks to high heaven of bullshit, she thought. Sure, the Surgeon of Death had a rightly-earned cruel reputation, but he’d shown time and again his crew meant a lot to him. Stepping in close, she used her finger to lift his hat enough to see his expression unobstructed. “Is that why you let her sass you? Because if she walked you’d be dead in the water?”

The gold orbs glared down at her, though the held no heat. “Everyone on the crew is a vital component. Like gears in a well-oiled machine. You’ve gotta take care of them to make sure they don’t break.”

When Nami merely raised a disbelieving eyebrow, he sighed, body deflating slightly. “Look, Nami-ya, everyone on my crew, we’ve all got shit in our pasts. Some have overcome it. Some still carry the scars. Ikkaku…hers is one of the few that’s actively still trying to get her. So yeah, maybe I’m a bit more protective, but it’s for a damn good reason.”

Ok, now that was a fair point. “I’m surprised you haven’t just killed him.”

“Oh, I want to,” he snarled. “No brother should try to hurt their siblings. They’re supposed to look after them. The only reason Ushi-ya still draws breath is because Ikkaku begged me to spare his pathetic life.”

It suddenly dawned on Nami that, despite his criticizing Luffy for not being more bloodthirsty, Law was…surprisingly merciful in his own ways, too. He didn’t murder Ikkaku’s brother, despite having clear reason to, just because she asked. He rescued Jean Bart from a life of slavery despite not knowing him. And while she didn’t fully understand the Ope Ope no Mi’s powers, she wondered if his cuts didn’t draw blood because he didn’t want them to?

She wasn’t sure if he had a complexity addiction or if he genuinely wanted to minimize bloodshed, but once again another side of the incredibly fascinating man had been revealed.

Taking a deep breath to calm his anger, he gave Nami a sadistic smile. “Doesn’t mean I let him off the hook with a sternly-worded warning, though. Wanna know what I did to him the last time we met?”

Nami turned a bit green as she remembered Jinzo’s still-beating heart in his hands. Complex and caring towards his crew or not, he was still a twisted bastard. “Fuck no!”

Briefly he pouted at not getting to regale her with the gory details before shrugging. “Pity. It was quite the eventful evening. In fact, it was also the night of mine and Drake-ya’s first kiss.”

“How the hell are those two things connected?!”

“Well, I had to distract him somehow. He was guarding my poor mechanic like a dragon would a virtuous princess.”

Before she could demand more details, or even snort at the idea of Ikkaku being virtuous, the sound of the mini Den Den Mushi reached their ears, interrupting the conversation.

Looking around to make sure there weren’t any eavesdroppers, Law pulled out the little snail phone and clicked down on the top. “Guessing you’ve got something for me?”

“I do,” the snail answered, and Nami recognized the faint accent that indicated they were speaking to Cousteau. “Only one place that specializes in North Blue history. Jubilee & Atlas Antiques. It’s an auction house and gallery on the fifth level, a block away from the Elevate Deliverer Restoration Church.”

“Well that’s a needlessly long name,” he quipped, rolling his eyes. Mentally, Nami had to agree, though it also sounded vaguely familiar. “At least that makes it easier to find. Anything else I should know? Other landmarks, nearby guard stations, that sort of thing?”

There was a moment of hesitation before Cousteau replied, “No station, though there would probably be at least a few guards wandering around at night. It’s, uh, right by a fountain. Blessings from the White City.”

Nami’s eyes widened a little. Oh. Now she remembered. That had been the church with the huge stained-glass windows. The one in her book, by the tribute to Flevance.

“…I see.”

The little snail chewed its lip, clearly concerned. “Captain, if you want, I can do all the surveillance—”

“It’s fine,” he cut in, tone sharp before smoothing out, “I saw it earlier. In fact, I’m glad it’s so close. Nami-ya and I will check out the gallery. We’re nearby and I��d rather see it with my own eyes to get the lay of the land. Unless anyone else has a better lead, you and the others can head back to the ship.”

“Understood, sir. Anything else you need?” he asked, sounding relieved.

“Just tell Clione I might have a job for him later on, so don’t make any evening plans.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.”

The call ended, and Nami peered up at Law, expecting signs of the same darkness that had crossed his face when they’d visited the fountain earlier. Instead, his face was totally blank, staring down at the tiny snail, expressionless.

Somehow, that was far, far more unnerving.

“Law?” she asked, touching his arm hesitantly.

As if awoken from a trance he shook his head before smirking down at her. “Well, hope you don’t mind one last detour before heading back to the ship? I know it’s more stairs but look on the bright side; at this rate, the definition of your calf muscles will be a thing of beauty.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond, turning on his heels and heading towards the direction of the stairs to the next level. Frowning, she began to doubt whether or not this was all a good idea. She didn’t know exactly what his deal was, but she really felt like he was too close to this. But she had the feeling trying to talk him out of it would be an exercise in futility, and would set her back far more than any lie she might spin.

Oh well, she sighed internally, jogging to catch up, so long as he doesn’t do anything stupid. He’s sensible enough to keep a cool head, no matter what his problem is. It’ll be fine.

While it wasn’t far, it took longer than either of them would have expected to actually find Jubilee & Atlas Antiques. Mainly because it was a surprisingly nondescript building compared to the opulent churches and museums nearby. Honestly, based on the exterior, one could easily have passed it by. Like everything else the building was pristinely white, the windows boasting small arches over them and flower boxes containing white impatiens. Really, the most impressive thing about it was the marble plaque out front boasting the company’s name in gold leaf.

But the two pirates didn’t really care about the appearance; it was what was inside that counted. That, and the information board out front, which stated in bold, black letters that there would be a showing and auction of North Blue artworks at 8pm that evening.

“Why don’t you just Scan the place, grab the vase, and walk away? Seems like that would be easy compared to putting on this charade?” Nami asked, eyeing the building. It was hardly Harpin’s mansion; it would take almost no effort for Law to use his powers to steal every item of value inside it, replacing artifacts, paintings, and money with pebbles and potted plants with a mere flick of his fingers, then teleporting them away to safety.

Really, if he weren’t such an ass, Trafalgar Law would be a thief’s dream partner.

Of course, he was an ass, so he gave her a look that implied he considered her question to be phenomenally stupid. “Because there’s no guarantee that the vase is even in there—for all I know it’s being kept in a secondary location until the actual event for security or health reasons. It is a relic from a city that suffered a notorious death toll both before and after the World Government had quarantined it,” he explained lowly. “On top of that, my Room would draw too much attention, so if it’s not in there, we’ll have blown our whole cover and probably the operation.”

Though disappointed that they couldn’t just whisk it away with his powers, she conceded that he had a point. Versatile and useful as they were, the Ope Ope no Mi’s abilities did have their drawbacks. Actually infiltrating the auction house was a safer move.

Yet for a moment, she saw Law glare at the building, as if he were equally frustrated that they couldn’t just grab their prize and go. Perhaps even a great mastermind like him sometimes wished to take the direct path. “At least we can be sure it’ll be presented at this auction,” he reassured, almost as much to himself as her as his hand rested on Nami’s lower back while he escorted her away. “Makes it easier to come up with a plan and contingencies when I actually know the target. My crew did good.”

She twirled a strand of hair around her finger in thought. She supposed he was right, and the pride in his voice when he mentioned the Hearts’ contribution…well, she knew better than to argue with that. Seemed the lesson he learned on the last island was sticking. “Still too bad we don’t have blueprints like Harpin’s house, though.”

“It can’t be helped. That was a job I’d been planning for months. This is more…spontaneous. Why? Scared and looking to back out?” he asked, glancing down at her with a challenging grin.

Nami scoffed. She was a thief that specialized in robbing pirates. Sure, she was a scaredy-cat, but when treasure of some kind was at stake, there were few risks she wouldn’t take. “Not a chance. Just pointing out that we’re going in more blind than last time.”

“Maybe, but at least our prize will be out in the open and not in the home of a former Marine with tentacles. Hell, we might even get it legally.”

“Law,” she started, brow furrowing. She wasn’t scared, but she did have a reasonable concern, especially with how intent he seemed on this one item. “What are we going to do if we don’t win the vase?”

The pair stopped by the Flevance fountain, Law taking a long moment to stare solemnly at the beautiful white angels. Without a word he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small coin, pressing it to his lips before flipping it into the water.

When he turned back to her, his gold eyes were as hard as the statues’ and twice as cold.

“Simple; we take it from whoever did.”

XXX

Hidden in a small cove on an unpopulated section of Atifakuto’s coast, the sight of the Polar Tang’s sunny yellow hull was a welcome relief after a whole day of the city’s stark white walls. Law seemed to agree as his tense posture relaxed into a comfortable slouch, even giving a few of the guys a small grin when they called out to them. To Nami, of course, the submarine was still far from the Sunny and thus would never be home, but she couldn’t help but smile at Law’s reaction. The Dark Doctor really did have some softness deep down.

Of course, that didn’t last long, as the moment they were within the safety of the cargo bay he was once more all business. “Dinner is in an hour. Rest up, brush up on your notes, do whatever you need to prepare for the auction tonight; I’ve got a few more dominoes to put in place,” Law stated. He’d been silent for most of the walk back, though Nami attributed that to him mentally filing through all the information they now had and formulating his plan. Much as she missed and loved Luffy, having a captain who didn’t just go rushing in like an idiot was a nice change of pace.

That didn’t mean she appreciated his tone, though. “Say please,” she quipped, hip jutting out. She might have decided to be more compliant for the sake of gaining his trust, but that didn’t mean she was going to let him boss her around.

Besides, if she were too accommodating, he’d probably grow suspicious and then she’d be right back at square one.

He scowled but apparently decided it would be a waste of time to argue. They were on a tight schedule, after all, so her attitude would have to be tolerated. For now. “Please,” he grumbled before marching off, beckoning Clione to follow him. The biologist glanced between the two, bewildered, but smartly said nothing before chasing after his captain.

Flashing a self-satisfied grin at Law’s retreating back, Nami practically skipped to her quarters. Even though they weren’t as prepared as she’d like, so far, things were going well. Perhaps they couldn’t just use Law’s powers to swipe the vase, but by obtaining it through legal means, they wouldn’t have the authorities after them, which would be nice. Besides, it wasn’t her money that would be spent at the auction.

Her research of the North Blue had taught her a few things, including just how valuable things from Flevance were. After all, things made from the white ore had been in high-demand during the city’s heyday; now that it was in ruins, any remaining artifacts would surely triple in price. And, admittedly, if that fountain had been anything to go by, the vase could very well be extremely beautiful. Something any art collector or historian might want for themselves.

Once more, she wondered why the hell Law wanted it. He collected coins, not art, so she doubted it would be something he wanted just for the heck of it. What was his obsession with Flevance—

That train of thought was derailed when Nami walked into her room. She blinked then rubbed her eyes, certain her vision was still messed up from the sun, because Ikkaku was still sitting at her desk, working on some little device, practically in the same position as that morning. Really, the only difference was the lack of towel around her head, though her curly hair was a tangled bird’s nest.

“Have you even moved today?” Nami exclaimed loudly, flabbergasted.

The mechanic jumped a few inches out of her chair, a pen cartwheeling through the air before falling back onto the surface of the desk with a clatter. Apparently since she’d had the room to herself, she hadn’t felt the need to put the earplugs back in, leaving her vulnerable to Nami’s loud voice. “Damn, girl, you scared me,” Ikkaku said with a breathy laugh. She glanced around, noticing the time on the clock and the fact that her hair had dried completely. “Guess I was in the zone.”

“You haven’t been working all day, have you?” Nami asked, plopping her shopping bag on her bed. “At least tell me you had lunch.”

“Sounding an awful lot like Law there,” she teased, pushing away from her desk to stretch. There was an audible pop from her back, and her dark eyes closed in relief. “Like me, too. The boys and I are always bugging a certain workaholic captain to eat something and not subsist solely on coffee and aspirin. But to answer your question, yes, I did have lunch.” She pointed at an empty plate that had been shoved into the far corner of the desk, a few grains of rice stuck to the surface. “Bepo brought me some onigiri.”

“Good. If you didn’t, I’d be dragging you into the galley and force-feeding you a sandwich, then charging you a cooking and inconvenience fee.”

Snorting, Ikkaku cracked her knuckles and rolled her shoulders, further releasing the tension sitting hunched over in one spot for hours had built up. “Dinner’s soon enough; even if I hadn’t eaten, I could have waited. And good luck making a sandwich with no bread on board.” Despite her dismissal tone, though, she gave a wry grin. “But thanks for caring, I guess, even if it does come with a price tag.”

“What are friends for?” Nami shrugged with a smile that was a little forced. It was such an alien feeling, this sudden awkwardness. Since first arriving on the Tang, she and Ikkaku had gotten on like a house on fire. It was almost inevitable, being the two women on the ship surrounded by men dealing with that insanity together. Hell, even if that hadn’t been the case, Ikkaku had practically sacrificed herself for her back at the club on Grimm. A companion like that was more than she’d even dared to dream of before she’d met Luffy.

Was it really right for Nami to act like she didn’t know about her brother? Should she just tell her that the guys told her about Ushi? Really, what was the point of keeping it a secret? It wasn’t that Nami thought she’d slip up and spill the beans—lying was her specialty, after all—but Ikkaku wasn’t some mark or stranger. She was her friend.

Hell, even if they were on opposite crews, she’d even dare to call her nakama.

The issue resolved itself, however, when the other woman’s expression turned a little melancholy. Ikkaku sighed as she rested her cheek on her fist, her other hand idly playing with the pen. “Heh. Funny, I used to ask myself that question a lot when I was younger. I didn’t really have friends back on my home island. I lived with my Gramps in a lighthouse, so besides the occasional trip to town, it was a pretty isolated life.”

“What about your brothers?” Nami asked, masking her interest by taking her purchases out of the bag so they wouldn’t wrinkle before the auction. A swell of relief surged through her. If Ikkaku talked about Ushi herself, the whole charade of pretending not to know about him wouldn’t even be necessary! She just had to carefully press for the right crumbs of information, maybe even offer up a couple tidbits about her own life in exchange. No big deal. Tit for tat, right? “Nojiko was my best friend growing up. Hell, probably my only friend until Luffy came along.”

A dark look crossed Ikkaku’s face. “Yeah, well, Nojiko on her worst day was probably a way better sibling than all of them combined.”

“I don’t think you’ve talked about them much. I basically just know that they exist and said you wouldn’t really make it as an engineer because you’re a girl.”

A long sigh escaped her lips. “That’s…the nice version. Didn’t want to unload my shitty childhood on you, especially since yours sounded worse. I mean, my island was never taken over by pirates, and I didn’t work for the guy who murdered my mom.”

Well, that was certainly true, but then again, people with healthy, normal childhoods seldom became pirates. Or at least, those that did rarely lasted long on such cutthroat seas. Nami should have realized there was more to the mechanic’s past than some run-of-the-mill misogyny. “Maybe, but I don’t mind. We’ve all gone through some rough shit, right? We wouldn’t be in this line of work otherwise.”

“True. I just…I guess I just like to pretend he doesn’t exist most of the time.”

“He?” she asked as if she didn’t already know.

Ikkaku’s calloused hand dropped the pen to instead clench into a tight fist, and there was a haunted look in her dark eyes as she stared off into space. “Ushi. He’s the oldest. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t afraid of him. Spent our childhood making our other brothers use me as a punching bag. When he wasn’t doing that, he gave me almost hourly reminders that I was a burden on the family, that no one really loved me, that I’d never amount to anything.” There was a hitch in her breath and a pause, and Nami noticed her close her eyes tightly for a moment. As if she were fighting back tears. It was a look she’d never expected to see on the tough, vibrant woman’s face. “Then, when I was seven, he tried to kill me.”

“What?!” Nami exclaimed, dropping her blazer to the floor in shock.

“Yeah. Joras had a huge fucking forest, and he led me into it to look for mushrooms or some shit. Can’t remember. Next thing I know, he’s shoved me into a pit, and by the time I’d climbed out, he was long gone and it was night. I think…I think it was supposed to be my grave, ‘cause it was really fucking deep. Or at least it seemed that way. Maybe I’m misremembering.”

Somehow, Nami doubted that. Sure, memories could get warped with age and fear, but some details remained solid for the rest of a person’s life. “But, you got out, right? And I’m sure your parents must have been worried sick!” She could almost picture it. A young Ikkaku, sticks and leaves caught in her messy curls, knees and elbows scraped, face covered in dirt and tears, frightened but once more able to smile when she was finally found, her mother and father scooping her into their arms, scolding her for worrying them but just so relieved she was safe…

At least, that’s what Bellemere or Mister Genzo would have done if Nami had gone missing.

From the bitter laugh that escaped her throat, Ikkaku hadn’t been so fortunate. “I spent three days wandering around those fucking woods, scared and cold and wondering if I was gonna die out there. My parents didn’t even notice I was gone.” After a long moment of silence, her fist unclenched and some of the tension eased out of her shoulders. “Gramps found me, though. When I didn’t come home after two days and a storm rolled in, my brothers Nausagi and Fukuro ran two miles to the lighthouse to tell him what Ushi had done. Maybe they realized he’d gone too far. Or they were scared I’d come back as a vengeful zombie. Either way, Gramps rescued me and demanded custody. Mama and Pops were glad to hand me over. One less mouth to feed, and I wouldn’t be causing their Future Marine Hero any more trouble.”

“That’s…that’s horrible.” And yet Nami could tell she was getting the abridged version of the story. “Tell me your grandfather was a better guardian.”

Despite the childhood trauma she’d just confessed to, Ikkaku merely shrugged, a small grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “Yeah. He was. Gramps was crazy, but he loved me and taught me how to fight. Told me to never lose my smile, ‘cause that’s my best protection against a world that’ll try to break me.”

“Bellemere said something similar to me and Nojiko. ‘Whatever happens, never lose your ability to laugh. If you can survive, happy times, lots of ‘em, will come your way’.”

“Smart lady.” She tried to casually run her fingers through her hair, only to find them caught in the tangled knots. She let out a light chuckle at her predicament and added, “I think she and Gramps would have gotten along pretty well. Well, assuming she liked salty former smugglers who had the gumption to threaten Law with a shot gun. Not that he didn’t deserve it a little.”

Nami had to smile at that, and she could only imagine what he’d said that had nearly gotten him shot. It was definitely something snarky, a shit-eating grin on his face while he provoked a protective grandfather just because he could.

Noticing Ikkaku’s hair situation, she abandoned her suit to instead pick up a wide-toothed comb. “Well, I’m not sure about Bellmere, but I’d certainly love to meet him.”

“Of course you would.” Leaning back in the chair, she allowed Nami to carefully put her thick curls to rights. “How was shopping? Boss show you the blinding sights of the city?”

“It was…enlightening,” she said cautiously. There was still so much to sort out, and every time she thought she had an answer to one of her questions, four more popped up in its place.

Grabbing the pen she’d been playing with earlier, Ikkaku handed it to her over her shoulder. “Here; I made you something, since I doubt you’ll be able to bring your Clima-Tact with you. Kinda why I was so focused—I wanted it to be ready by tonight.”

Curious, Nami inspected the item. It was a plain black ballpoint pen maybe a bit longer than her hand. There was an almost unnoticeable jolly roger engraved into the middle, and she ran her thumb over it idly. “You spent the whole afternoon making me a pen? I could have just as easily brought my stylus.”

“Oh, but a stylus is only good for writing. This is so much more useful. ‘The pen is mightier than the sword’, right? Click the top.”

She did so, and instead of an ink-filled nub, a small syringe, similar to an epi-pen, popped out. Her eyes widened in realization as Ikkaku explained, “Inside’s a powerful tranquilizer. Should knock any fool out in minutes if injected into the bloodstream. Takes longer if it’s ingested. It’s non-lethal to humans, so it should be safe to use on anyone you’re looking to knock out. Assuming they aren’t really Fishmen in disguise.”

“Why? Does it react differently for them?”

She grimaced. “Yeah. Severe allergic reaction. Anaphylactic shock typically. So, unless you want that on your conscience, humans only.”

Tucking the pen away for later, Nami nodded in understanding and went back to combing her hair. “Gotcha. Doubt it’ll be a problem, though. Jean Bart said this place is pretty humans-only.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s impossible for someone to have that kind of bloodline. If it’s diluted through a few generations, a lot of the time you can hide it and pass for human.”

“Hmmm, hadn’t thought of that.”

There was a moment where Nami could tell she was mulling something over. Even faced away from her, Ikkaku wasn’t hard to read, and it was only a matter of time before she voiced whatever question was on her mind.

While she waited, the ginger took the time to appreciate the texture of Ikkaku’s hair, combing out each curl individually so it wouldn’t frizz. The thick, black locks were coarser than her own, yet surprisingly soft despite her hard life at sea. Hair maintenance was extremely difficult living on the ocean, the salt and fluctuating weather of the Grand Line wreaking havoc on Nami’s much finer strands. And while Ikkaku was far more feminine than one would expect upon first meeting her, in the time they’d roomed together, she didn’t seem to put much more extensive care into her shiny locks than some leave-in conditioner.

Guess she’s just got some good genetics, Nami thought appreciatively. Either that or she’s hiding some amazing shampoo formula, and damn if she is I’ll never forgive her!

When Ikkaku at last broke her silence, the hesitation in her voice was palpable. “Hey, it was a Fishman who held you prisoner all those years, right? You ever…blame all Fishmen for what he did?”

It was an unexpected question, but a fair one, Nami supposed. Arlong had committed a crime so heinous she knew she’d never forgive him, and she knew there were plenty of people, especially ones who spent years abused by such a monster, who would project that hatred onto an entire race. But why even ask?

“I…not really. I mean, I can’t say I never lumped them all together in my head, since Arlong and his crew were my only baseline for Fishmen for a long time.” She bit her lip, thinking. “But that was when I was a kid. My view of things was a lot more black-and-white, mostly because I was bitter at my situation. As I got older, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was stupid to think all Fishmen were like him. He was the one who hurt me, so he’s the only one who should get my hate.”

“So, you don’t hate them all?”

She shook her head. “Nah. Hell, I was even able to forgive a member of his crew. I’m sure you heard about how Luffy punched a Celestial Dragon?”

Ikkaku craned her neck up to look at her, dark eyes widening in shocked understanding. “Yeah? You saying the Fishman he defended—”

“One of Arlong’s crew. Hatchi. Like all of them, he hurt me too, but it was on his captain’s orders, and he clearly regretted it.” Well, it had been a bit more complex than that. Hell, when they’d first encountered him again, she’d nearly gone back on her promise to Camie to rescue him. Even if he hadn’t abused her like the others, he’d still been complacent in it. Still destroyed villagers homes, held her hostage, attacked the Navy ships that tried to come to the rescue. He hadn’t been blameless in the least. She would have had every right to demand that he be left to be killed or enslaved. That it was karma come to bite him in the ass.

Yet what had swayed her, apart from Camie’s determination to save him, was her own friends’ reactions to seeing him again. Those who knew her past had immediately been ready to turn the ship around and leave Hatchi to his fate. Of course she’d expected Sanji to be her knight in shining armor and want nothing to do with someone who had abused a lady, even by proxy. Zoro and Usopp had been a bit more surprising, though perhaps it shouldn’t have been. They knew what she’d been put through. Had fought and bled for her. Despite their sometimes heated disagreements, Nami knew she could count on them to always have her back.

The one who shocked her the most was Luffy. He might have flip-flopped between reason and his stomach, but the fact was, her loving, forgiving captain had actually held a grudge on her behalf. Hatchi and Arlong hadn’t done anything to him personally, but his nakama had suffered, and that wasn’t something he’d easily set aside. That genuine show of solidarity and loyalty to her had melted what ice had still been around her heart, which allowed her to truly forgive the octopus Fishman.

Yes, Hatchi had hurt her, but her hatred was solely reserved for Arlong, not his underlings who genuinely felt remorse.

“I’m not a saint or anything but hating Hatchi…it seemed pointless. He wasn’t the one who killed my mother. And blaming all Fishmen for the actions of one seemed pretty shitty. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t kill Arlong if I had the chance, though.”

Nami could practically feel the tension drain from Ikkaku’s shoulders, and she couldn’t hide her smile before she looked away. “That’s good to know. That asshole deserves it, from what you’ve told me. He and my brother should meet, then get sacrificed to some kind of horrible sea monster. Plenty of hungry Sea Kings out there to feed.”

“Couldn’t happen to a nicer pair of guys,” Nami giggled as she ran the comb through the last strand of hair. “Though, that might be cruel to the Sea King. Poor thing deserves a better meal than shit like them.”

“True. We’ll just have to think of something else then. We can ask Law; he’s always got great suggestions.”

A shudder ran down her spine, though she had to admit, it wasn’t as horrified as she’d like. She justified it with the fact that Arlong was scum who deserved whatever painful death the likes of Law might propose. So did Ushi, from the sounds of things. Though, Law had said Ikkaku had begged him not to kill her brother. Why? Did she still care about Ushi due to their familial ties? Or was there something else?

Maybe she just doesn’t want her brother’s death on her conscience, Nami thought, putting the comb away and proceeding to raid the closet for shoes. I just hope that doesn’t come back to bite her someday.

XXX

Dinner on the Tang was certainly livelier and noisier than breakfast. Mainly because the crew didn’t have to walk on eggshells while waiting for Law to get his caffeine hit. Most of the time about a dozen different conversations could be heard, utensils clattered against plates, insults were tossed about, and laughter filled the air. But at the moment, the whole galley was silent save for Nami, who was telling the Heart Pirates—save for a few who’d been sent out on last-minute errands—all about her crew’s wild adventure on Skypiea.

“…so, after Luffy beat the crap out of him, Enel flew off to the moon in his gold airship, and we escaped the island with the help of an octopus balloon, our ship loaded with treasure!”

There was a pregnant pause as the Hearts stared at her in a mix of awe and disbelief. She’d had their undivided attention ever since Law announced that the Straw Hats had found Noland’s lost city of gold, all but demanding she tell the tale and not skimp on the details.

Naturally, those details made the story even more bizarre, practically unbelievable, but she gave them what they asked for, so they couldn’t complain. Even Law’s jaw had dropped once or twice in incredulity. Mostly at the part where Luffy’d been eaten by a giant snake and thus been hidden from Enel’s senses.

Finally, a few of the crew managed to find their voices.

“An orangutan nearly wrecked your ship with singing?” Shachi asked, face utterly baffled.

Penguin grabbed his hat and smacked him over the head with it. “That’s what you’re stuck on? That’s from way back in the beginning of the story!”

The ginger punched him in the shoulder in retaliation, which quickly devolved into a childish slap fight. “Well it’s weird, ok?”

“Weirder than Straw Hat punching Kami or the knock-up stream business or the ship that flew to the moon?”

“Yeah! You ever met an orangutan that could sing?!”

“No, but that’s not the point!”

“You met Monte Blac Cricket?” Ermine interrupted, eyes so wide the whites could be seen even under the rim of their hat, though their mouth quickly split into a smile. “Holy shit, I’d wondered what had happened to him!”

“Wasn’t he your friend or something?” Seiuchi asked through a mouth full of rice.

They shook their head, looking a little wistful, a faint blush rising to their cheeks. “Just a neighbor. The people of Lvneel were dicks to his family and anyone who associated with them didn’t get treated much better. But I always thought there had to be some truth to Noland’s story.”

“Because a city of gold is so fantastical it’s gotta be real?” Nami asked, amused. She’d half-expected everyone to laugh at her like the people on Jaya when she’d asked about Sky Island—she’d even glossed over that part, finding no reason to recap such a blow to her pride. Yet instead, they’d been respectful, even entranced by her tale. It seemed to help that she’d been able to fill in a few blanks with what she remembered from Noland’s ledger, thus adding credibility to the man himself instead of just imagining the lying fool the king’s slander had reduced him to.

Usopp would probably love these guys, she thought fondly. Not that they’d likely believe his fantastical lies, but they’d probably at least let him spin his yarns to his heart’s content.

“Because you don’t tell a king about a city of gold unless you’ve got something to show for it,” Uni interjected wisely, ladling some more curry onto her plate. He paused to smile at her with his eyes, the bottom half of his face still distinctly covered by his bandana despite it being dinnertime. This close, Nami couldn’t help but try to subtly look for signs of scarring, and in fact could spot a line of slightly-paler skin peeking out just over the edge. “That, and history’s rarely all that accurate. Full of lies and twisted to suit a certain narrative.”

“That’s the World Government way. I’m sure we’ll see plenty of it tonight,” Law stated, leaning back in his chair as he munched on some onigiri. The bulge in his cheek might have been comical, but the glint in his eye was humorless. “Can’t wait to hear the dumbass assumptions people make about us Northerners.”

Murmurs of agreement echoed throughout the room, though an angry tic formed on Nami’s forehead.

“Are you saying the stuff you had me study is going to be a load of crap?” she demanded, pointing her finger accusingly. Of course she knew history was skewed at best, but she’d spent days cramming! Had weird sexual dreams about him because of it!

Yes she was blaming the book for that and no one could stop her.

He shrugged and took another bite of rice, unbothered by her irritation. “It’s the information you’ll need to be able to regurgitate if anyone asks you about the North.”

“Yeah,” Penguin chimed in, nodding sagely. He and Shachi had finally been pulled apart by Jean Bart and had resumed eating like nothing had happened. “These people aren’t interested in the truth. They just want to feel superior to the ‘uneducated masses’.”

“Buncha pretentious pricks,” Shachi sniggered, balancing a spoon on his upper lip. “Bet they’d have a fucking fit if they found out El Dorodo’s not only real, but in the fucking sky!”

“I mean, can’t say I’d blame them,” Jude grumbled, playing a bit with his food like a grumpy child. “I figured we’d be the ones to find it, but this whole time we’ve been sailing around in a submarine for nothing!”

“You got something to say about my ship?” Ikkaku snapped, glaring at her crewmate. Behind her, Crozier, Cousteau, and Ermine made slashing motions across their throats, silently reminding him that disparaging the Polar Tang in any way in front of its chief engineer was a sure death sentence.

Before he could say anything, Uni thwapped him on the forehead with the spoon, apparently taking just as much offense. “How can you say it’s been for nothing—we’ve found tons of cool shit down here! May not have been El Dorado, but there have been some amazing sunken cities. And fish! We’ve discovered more aquatic animals than any other ocean explorer,” he pointed out excitedly, Cousteau nodding in agreement. “I mean, we’ve seen deep-sea fish not recorded in any book! Extracted hallucinogenic venom from puffer fish! Taken samples of bioluminescent plankton! We’ve seen octopi punch fish!”

“You ever figure out why they do that?” Shachi asked, cocking his head.

“Best I can figure? Spite.”

As weird as this little tangent was, Nami found herself giggling a bit at how excited Uni was. She didn’t know him too well, given how he was one of the quieter, more reserved members of the crew, but it was endearing to see him so animated and giddy as he discussed marine life.

“Plus, it’s cool to study navigational currents and everything, and underwater topography. The maps I can make from that kind of intel are really good,” Bepo added, twiddling his claws a bit beside her.

“Right! And if that’s still not enough to convince you, who needs a city of gold when you can get your hands on more sunken treasure than most pirates see in their lifetimes?” Uni asked, puffing out his chest.

She couldn’t help it—Nami’s eyes lit up with belli signs at the thought of how many sunken ships the submarine probably came across, all that gold theirs for the taking. Most treasure was basically lost once it hit the bottom of the ocean, but the Hearts’ ship and diving equipment turned the ocean floor into their personal piggy bank.

It seemed Jude had the same thought. “You’re right, you’re right,” he conceded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, it’s a great ship, and we’ve definitely found more than a city’s worth of loot—and yes the fish are cool Uni put the spoon away—but it’s still annoying to find out that we’ve been searching the wrong place this whole time.”

“Eh, happens to every pirate crew,” Jean Bart said, sipping his drink. “You find a treasure map only to discover the gold’s already dug up. Same with legends of lost cities. The fact that the Straw Hats actually found El Dorado and came away with a profit just means they’ve got the Devil’s luck on their side.”

“Or the favor of some god. Probably not that Enel guy, though,” Shachi said with a smirk. “And hopefully nothing from Joras, either.”

There was a murmur of agreement among the crew at that, though Ikkaku looked more uncomfortable than amused. Nami wasn’t the only one to catch that, though, as Uni reproachfully smacked the side of his head with the spoon.

“Dude. Don’t joke about the eldritch horror gods, yeah?”

“Sorry,” the ginger said, blushing slightly as he wiped away the curry splattered across his face.

“Eldritch horror gods?” Nami asked, recoiling at the thought. What the fuck?! Joras sounded vaguely familiar and given the context she guessed it had to be someplace in the North Blue, but she sure as hell didn’t recall reading anything about that! Was this something related to Northern culture, or were the guys just fucking with her?

“Nothing to worry your pretty little head over, Nami-ya,” Law stated with a smirk, though she didn’t miss the glare he sent Shachi’s way. “We’ve been sailing under the ocean for over five years and I’ve yet to see a sleeping god who can turn you mad with terror.”

“No, just an underwater ruin or two that talks about him,” Ikkaku muttered, picking at her food.

Underwater ruins with tales of sleeping gods? Sounds like something Robin would be interested in, Nami thought, nervous sweat running down her neck. Not that she’d be able to blame her. Sure, the archeologist was macabre as hell, but Nami could appreciate her thirst for knowledge, creepy or not. Who knew what history and cultures had been lost to the seas? Maybe there were even Poneglyphs down at the bottom of the ocean!

Damn. Robin and Law would probably get along great. She wasn’t sure if she was frightened or comforted by this thought.

Uni seemed to notice her unease and patted her shoulder. “We’ve seen some strange stuff down there, but nothing more dangerous than Sea Kings. Which, I mean, aren’t exactly friendly guppies, but they’ll leave us be. The Tang’s Seastone coating and electrical defenses ensure that.”

Though she still found the whole concept horrifying, she was appreciated how hard Uni was trying to keep the peace and not make things needlessly frightening for her. The whole crew had a morbid sense of humor, but while she’d mostly adapted, she still found this whole conversation creepy. It made her feel a little guilty for wanting to pry into his business. Yeah, it was annoying to know the crew was hiding stuff from her, but Uni deserved a little privacy, right?

“Yeah, and if there were anything more, Uni’s fish buddies would warn us ahead of time!” Malamute added.

“Fish buddies?” Nami asked, eyebrows lifting to her hairline in surprise. So much for respecting his privacy. “Wait, can you talk to fish?”

The man in question stiffened beside her. “I, uh, I can understand fish a little,” he said, looking nervous. His large hands twisted the napkin in his lap, and he refused to look at her. “It’s a Haki thing.”

“Haki can do that?” she asked, surprised.

“Observation Haki can do a lot of things, and Uni’s the best at it on the ship,” Law cut in harshly, glare brokering no argument. “It’s a skill that’s saved our asses plenty of times.”

Nami blanched at his defensive tone. “Hey, I’ll take your word for it, but you don’t have to act like I insulted his mother or something.”

“It’s ok, Law,” Uni said, shrugging a bit, though his face seemed to sink a little further into his bandana. “I know she didn’t mean anything by it. It’s a fair question, and it is a weird talent.”

“It’s not weird. It’s fucking useful as hell and I won’t hear anyone belittling my crew.”

“I’d never belittle him—” Nami snapped, starting to stand up to give Law a piece of her mind before Bepo’s heavy paws fell on her shoulders, gently but firmly keeping her seated.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized softly. “Law doesn’t mean you. It’s just…the last person outside the crew that found out, he was extremely cruel about it. Beat Uni to a pulp and even threatened to sell him as a freak show attraction before Captain found them.”

“Oh my god,” she replied, anger cooling quickly as she covered her mouth in horror, imagining Uni bruised and bloody on the ground at the hands of some bastard. Well, that would sure as hell explain why Law had taken such offense. If such a thing had happened to Chopper because he could speak to animals, she’d likely be just as pissed. From the scowls on the rest of the Hearts’ faces, the whole crew felt similar. Her gaze flicked to the fuming captain. “I’m guessing he ended up on your operating table?”

“I wish,” he growled, gold eyes glinting in fury as he crossed his arms. “Marines showed up before I could cut out his heart. Must have been his lucky day, but luck won’t be enough to save him if I ever run into Hyena-ya again.”

“Hyena?” she asked, the name not ringing any bells.

“Bellamy the Hyena,” Bepo explained, snout wrinkling in distaste. “He’s also from the North.”

Oh. My. God, Nami thought, wondering if the world was really so small. “You said Bellamy, right? Blonde hair? Spring powers? Asshole with a stupid grin?”

Law cocked an eyebrow in mild surprise. “Seems you’ve encountered him before.”

She ground her teeth as she remembered the way he’d mocked Luffy’s dreams in the bar. “Yeah. On Jaya. His crew laughed at me for asking about Sky Island and his first mate tried to buy me. Later he stole Cricket’s gold, so Luffy went after him. I didn’t see the fight but given what an ass that guy was…yeah, Luffy wiped that stupid smile off his face.”

Once more the room fell silent, but quickly broke out into thunderous applause.

“Hah! I would have paid good money to see that!” Ikkaku laughed, spirits lifted.

“If he hurt Cricket, I’m glad he got the beating he deserved,” Ermine said with a grin.

Uni smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling happily. “When you see Straw Hat again, shake his hand for me! That guy’s a dick.”

Even Law was put in a better mood, though there was still a malicious edge to his smirk. “Good on Mugiwara-ya. Still wouldn’t mind doing some permanent damage to the fucker myself, though. Bad enough he insulted my crew, but that bastard should pick his idols more carefully.”

Nami’s brow furrowed at that. His idols? The hell did that mean?

She didn’t have time to vocalizing that question, though. Sweat ran down her neck when said smirk then took a more lecherous edge as he rested his chin on his fist, eyes glinting with mischief. “But Sarquiss-ya tried to buy you? I might have prioritize kicking his ass, then. I’m the only one who gets to be your sugar daddy.”

“Oh shut up! You didn’t even buy me new shoes!”

“You got her a suit but no shoes? For shame, Boss,” Ikkaku giggled, getting up to help Seiuchi and Jude clear the tables. “I thought you were supposed to be a ladies’ man.”

“I’m a cruel bastard who doesn’t do something for nothing. She can borrow yours.”

Sauntering over, she playfully poked him in the forehead. “Says who?”

Law snorted and childishly poked her right back. “Me. Your captain. The guy who pays your salary.”

“You pay me to keep the submarine running and sass you when you’re being an idiot.”

“I don’t pay you for that.”

“Mmmm, you’re right; that’s a service I provide for free.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say those two were siblings,” Nami chuckled under her breath.

“Right? When I was first recruited I was convinced they were secretly related,” Uni agreed.

Bepo gave them both a smile and said quietly, “I think it’s good for them. Especially Law. I think he secretly likes having a little sister again.”

Brown eyes widened at that little tidbit. Law had a sister? What happened to her? Bepo had stated the past tense, so there was either some kind of falling out or…

…oh no, she thought, turning to watch Law continue to bicker good-naturedly with Ikkaku, his expression annoyed but the glimmer in his eyes belying that he was enjoying himself. Another piece of the puzzle that was the Surgeon of Death had fallen into her lap, but it wasn’t a particularly happy one. Sure, people died or were killed all the time, but Nami couldn’t imagine what she’d be like if she’d lost Nojiko. And depending on how young they’d been or how she’d died, that could really fuck with a guy.

“Nami-ya.”

Her attention was yanked from her musing as Law called her name. He was on his feet, plate clean and smirk dangerous as he regarded her. Nami wondered whether this would be the last time she’d see him in a genuinely good mood for the rest of the evening. “It’s seven o’clock. Time to get ready to watch history be defiled by pretentious morons. And for your obnoxious thunder god’s sake, make sure you’re wearing shoes you can actually run in.”

( @ninhaoma-ya, @awesomi, @vannahfanfics)

#Fic: Welcome to the Heart Pirates #lawna #trafalgar law x nami #Trafalgar D. Water Law #lawnami #op fanfiction #op fanfic #heart pirates #heart pirate nami #ikkaku one piece #one piece ikkaku #uni one piece #law x nami #cat burglar nami #one piece nami #nami

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 3 years ago

Text

Love Where You Are

Bucky x Black Female OC.

Bucky's got to learn that sometimes people don't want more out of you than you already have. Not perfection, but what's there right now.

Fluff. Just lots of Fluff. Does take place right after The Falcon and the Winter Solider.

Masterlist (multifandom)

_____________________

“And if you are alone, that is the quietest most personal hell. And James, that is very hard to escape.”

It rings his ears, long after he leaves the office, long after he returns the notebook, long after the sun has set but sitting here, at the pier feels right. The boats rock gently with the waves and the metal anchors tap against the metal husks. It reminds him of New Orleans, of hearing the giggles and fake punches being thrown. The community that always banded together no matter what.

Bucky did really think he was alone. Just a guy, with a friend of a friend. Well, maybe he wasn’t really a guy anymore. Not in the sense that guys were young, making mistakes--that was a guy. Or at least the way he saw it back before. Back when Steve was still the kid stuffing his shoes with newspaper, and lying on enlistment forms. Back when Bucky was playing the courts for the both of them and nights out were spent drinking just as much as they were spent getting into tussles to save Steve’s ass.

A more fair assessment would be that Bucky was maybe a guy. He had made his mistakes while trying to fix them. But he sure as hell wasn’t getting younger. But he was a guy that’s definitely trying to move on. Trying to figure out what it means to be a guy now at this moment--even though the nightmares still linger.

Sam would probably tell Bucky that the nightmares are common. He’d maybe even say it’s a good thing. They show Bucky he’s still human. And maybe that’s what Bucky’s still struggling with--how to be human more than anything else. What does it mean to have friends again? What does it mean to get a chance of life that he gets some control in? No more fighting other people’s wars. Well, for right now at least.

“A fish out of water, I see.”

Bucky turns to the voice. “Who sent you this time?”

Patricia smiles before sitting next to Bucky. “You’re forgetting I’m the one who showed you this place. So the real question is why are you jocking my happy place?”

Bucky laughs. “I am not stealing your happy place, I swear.”

“Yeah, sure could’ve fooled me.”

“It is a pretty nice place to come to, just let go of everything,” Bucky whispers, staring back out at the horizon. The sun’s just starting to duck behind the horizon casting just enough of an orange glow onto the water. Patricia hums, turning her attention back to the water in front of them as well. And for a moment, it’s silent between them. Minus the slight buzz of the water beneath them of course and the traffic on the pier.

Bucky glances over his shoulder to Patricia. The moles are all still there, scattered across her face. She still looks the same, like she did when they met in Wakanda. Patricia’s not Wakandian at all. However, when Shuri started to oversee the Science center back in Oakland, she reached out to see if she could find some people locally to help her run it. Patricia happened to be one the very few people to make the list. And occasionally, she came to Wakanda to have meetings with Shuri when Shuri couldn’t leave, or didn’t want to. Though her visits were brief, Patricia never seemed to be shocked by Bucky’s presence, and a couple of times when he happened to be in the area of the castle, went out of her way to talk to him. And in those moments, though Bucky never had much to say then, Patricia would tell him about what was happening in the world, or share personal stories.

He’s not sure what made her trust him and he’s not sure why he trusted her either. Maybe it’s because at the time, she didn’t seem bothered by him. It’s like she just saw a man, some body, and not a machine. Bucky hadn’t told her, not initially who he was, or what he had done not initially. But then Patricia asked why he was in Wakana too. That question made him freeze, unsure of how to answer. And rather than answering it directly, he dodged around it and gave what he thought was a vague response. And in the sunset there, Patricia didn’t seem bothered by the answer. Instead she pushed forward, steering the conversation to something else.

“Shouldn’t you be on the other side of the country?” Bucky asks, suddenly realizing that he’s not even close to the West Coast.

“Vacation. Boss mandated vacation, but vacation nonetheless.”

“Visiting home then?”

“Yeah. Checking in on my mom and dad. They’re going on a cruise in a couple of days for their anniversary. And I try to see them before their yearly vacation too. The last I heard you were rag tagging it with Sam though. And I definitely didn’t think you’d say in New York, not after what happened.”

“You--how long have you been in town?”

“Long enough to hear and see that the life of being a superhero is never easy.”

Bucky never considered himself a superhero. Not after what he’s done. “Oh, no, I’m not. Just--” What was he doing? Trying to recklessly hold onto a person, to an idea of who he was in someone else’s perspective?

“Just Bucky?” Patricia suggests. Gently, she reaches out to take his left hand.

Bucky tenses for a second and then has to make sure to relax so he doesn’t hurt her. He goes to speak and the air leaves him for just a moment when she threads his fingers through his. With a deep breath he finds the sentence again, “You make that sound so complete. Because I-I don’t even know who Bucky is even more.”

“I think you have more of a clue than you let on.”

“Perhaps subconsciously, there is more than I know consciously.” Bucky almost wants to flex his fingers, try to figure out the right way to carry her hand and how much pressure to give. He glances down, the black metal of his arm accented with gold pairs nicely with the deep red brown of her skin. But it still feels foreign, like the first time he wore a shirt again with his new arm and he was worried the threads would get snagged in the divots.

“How long are you in town for?” Patricia asks.

“Oh, I live here in Brooklyn.”

“You never told me you were from Brooklyn.”

“Born and raised. I just recently moved back here. In Wakanda, when you told me about the pier, how you liked coming just to clear your head, I liked to hear how you saw it. Besides, it had been quite a few years since I had been back to see it. So, it was nice.”

“I mean it hadn’t changed all that much in a few years,” Patricia comments off handedly.

“Well, maybe it was, uh, a little bit more than just a few years.”

“Like several decades more.”

“Who told you?”

“I may just be the assistant director at the center, but I am let in on a lot of secrets that have a very real chance to impact us. Someone might think we have access to certain materials,” she taps his metal arm with the phrase, “or if we have information that may help them and we have to be prepared for that.”

“So that means you know about everything.”

“Only need to know. And your unique relation was classified as a need to know for me.”

With a sigh, Bucky shakes his head. “That makes this incredibly easier and ten time more awkward.”

“If it helps at all, James, clearly I haven’t run for the hills.”

“Please, call me Bucky. The only time I’m used to hearing James is when I’m in trouble or from my therapist when she was fed up with me. And as much as my mother would absolutely like to have a talk with me from the great beyond, I think I’m going to hold out on having to hear that lecture for as long as I can.”

“I don’t think she has that long of a lecture.”

It’s with a slight lump in his throat that Bucky realizes he hadn’t thought about his mother is so long. What would she think of him? What would she think of what he had done? He blinks back the tears and clears his throat. But the tears come back, the lump reforms. “Oh, God, I-my mom,” he whispers. She’d been gone for a while; that fact wasn’t new. But what was fact was that he didn’t want to disappoint her. Even though she was gone, it didn’t mean that Bucky was trying to make it hard for her to watch over him.

Patricia takes the hand holding his hand and gingerly rubs across his shoulder. “Hey, it’s alright.”

It takes a moment and a pinch at the bridge of his nose between his eyes to keep the water works at a minimum. “Thanks. I’m okay.”

“I think this calls for ice cream. My treat. What do you think?”

“Oh-I don’t know.”

“C’mon. It’s a couple scopes. It’ll make you feel better.” Patricia stands, holding out her hand, fingers motioning for him to stand.

It’s here, in the in between, between standing and sitting, between giving into the ice cream and standing firm on his denial that he wonders, why would someone like Patricia be nice to him. As far as he knew, she didn’t know about war, or constantly fighting or always looking over your shoulder. And maybe that wasn’t fair. Maybe she knew more about it than Bucky was giving her credit for as a Black woman in America. Much like he hadn’t known the similar things about Sam and the shield. But why would she want to give someone like him a chance? Shouldn’t she be more afraid?

“What’s this all about?” Bucky asks, standing but not taking her hand.

“Ice cream to help soothe mental wounds.”

They stand face to face. He towers over her by a few inches. But it’s enough where she looks up at him ever so slightly. “No, if you know about me, why do any of this? Even back at Wakanda.”

There’s a pause from Patricia. She turns on her heel and he follows. Though he’s not sure he should be. They get a couple steps from the bench before Patricia exhales heavily. Perhaps, it was not the smartest move to admit this clearly after an emotional moment. But her nerve would leave her as it always did if she didn’t strike now. “On the one hand, Bucky, it’s this little thing called flirting.”

“Flirt-flirting?”

The wide eyes and dropped jaw make her laugh. “Yeah, flirting.”

“I am a little over a century old. But that-that is not flirting.”

“I am not great at it, but I was attempting,” Patricia returns, with a bit of annoyance creasing her brow.

“Oh, doll.”

“Aht, no, you do not get to ‘Doll’ me. I am not a doll. No, do I look like a doll?”

Bucky smirks. It’s all too easy; it would be all too easy. He won’t do it. Not now at least. “I apologize. But I’m just saying being nice to someone isn’t necessarily flirting.”

“Wakanda was different. I was trying to get to know you and I knew things were complicated for you. So I kept it to being nice. And then I knew I’d be Stateside most of the time. However, when I got the call from the Dora and Shuri that you were moving to the U.S, I thought maybe I could get a chance. But then the expo was coming up and I was essentially working as director and counselor to keep the center open late to let kids work and things just never worked. But then I saw you, here, at the pier and I thought it might be my chance. Sue me.”

Bucky nods as she speaks, keeping stride as they weave through the crowd. “So inviting me out for ice cream was the move?”

“It was like move two. Get you to go with me for ice cream so then I could ask you for dinner.”

“I don’t think you need to worry or waste time with me.” If Bucky could stop it, he would. If the little voice in the back of his head didn’t get so loud sometimes, he wouldn’t even have to deal with Patricia’s full halt and tugging him off to the side. If Bucky could keep the doubt down, his comment wouldn’t fall from his lips. But unfortunately, what he wants and what he does isn’t always on the same page.

“Repeat that for me,” Patricia demands.

It’s the way she says it, like he can try to repeat it but he’s sure it wasn’t lack of hearing that she’s asking. “I just mean--I’m still not like a hundred percent...together. And it’s not a process I can hope to do in seconds or one that I can promise won’t be ugly. So I don’t know--”

“Sometimes, Bucky, people want to love you where you are. No one’s perfect. Not even us non-superbeings. I’m not asking for the perfect you. I’m asking to go on some dates with whatever version of you is here, right now. I want to disasterly cook a meal and then order pizza. I’m asking you to give me whatever you have now. ”

And if you’re alone, that is the quietest most personal hell. But Bucky still doesn’t want to drag her into this world, this mess he was in. But here Patricia is, asking for whatever he has, whether it’s perfect or put together or not. And there have only been a few times in his life that people wanted whatever he had. It’s that soldier, the barking commands from his training officers that can make it hard. They always wanted more, they wanted perfection in some ways. They wanted obedience more than anything, but Patricia’s not asking for any of that.

“No-no one’s just wanted the mess I am. I thought I lost the last person that wanted that from me.”

“Well, if you let me in and say yes to ice cream and a dinner date, where I do not cook initially, then you’ll have gained another person that wants you for whatever mess you are.”

“By mess, I mean mess. Like I sleep on the floor of my own apartment. I just want you to be aware of where the bar is.”

Patricia smiles, a small tuft of laughter escaping her. “Consider my expectations set.”

“Then I would be honored to get ice cream and eventually go to dinner with you.”

Her grin widens, heats heating at the bit of a twinkle settling into his gaze. She’s thankful her blush is not visible at all. “You’re going to have to stop looking at me like that. Because a look like that is dangerous.”

“Looking at you like what?”

She circles his face with her pointer finger, “Like that, like you’re plotting something devious.”

Bucky laughs, holding his hands up in defense of himself. “You’re the one planning. Not me.”

“It’s a Mr. Suave look. I know it when I see it.” She starts back down the pier and Bucky’s quick to catch up, right hand slipping into hers. “See, now you’re plotting something for sure! But I’m not that mad at it.”

Gingerly, he gives her hand a squeeze. “Good. And thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #h writes #marvel #marvel fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x black oc #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel fanfic

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morningflames · 4 years ago

Text

a word of warning

well here’s a post i never thought i’d be making

it’s come to my attention that a Certain Someone is planning on making a comeback to WrA soon and it fills me with nothing short of dread. i spent the day yesterday warning people he terrorized and manipulated that this was happening. you know it’s bad when there’s a literal network of people who share an abuser that have remained in contact for years in the event this happened again.

i am not going to lie and say that making this post does not terrify me but i cannot in good conscience sit back and let him worm his way into the rp scene again and do what he did to me and at least half a dozen others all over again.

to summarize: tarcanus aka tarcanus frostborne is a manipulative, emotionally abusive and predatory individual that should be avoided at all costs.

i am the player behind lyrinel, a former officer of his and someone who was on the receiving end of nearly a years worth of abuse and manipulation. my experiences pale in comparison to those of others who dealt with him and came forward to me after i left his guild, and i cannot speak for anyone who does not feel comfortable coming forward. if you do want to let your voice be heard, feel free to reblog and add your own anecdotes.

my story below the cut.

tw: manipulation, emotional abuse, gaslighting, coercion, grooming

i first joined coram populo in early 2014 after my best friend and fellow survivor (i will refer to her by her character’s name of thradia from here on out) joined the raid team in december of the previous year. we were both just looking for a social place to park our characters and maybe start role playing again, as we hadn’t had a guild or dedicated rp group in a while. things were fine and friendly for the first couple of months, though it’s worth noting that a large part of the office corps had just left or was in the process of leaving when thradia and i joined. we were both 18 at the time.

i made the mistake of reaching out to tarc in the spring, when i noticed him posting to his tumblr about how busy he was. i offered to be an IC assistant of sorts to his character and he was more than happy to toss me into an absolute whirlwind. we still didn’t know much about each other, but in the span of a couple weeks we went from casual contact in guild chat to immensely long (sometimes between 10 and 12 hours) skype calls, constant DMing, and an almost uninterrupted stream of conversation. i was struggling to finish high school at this time (spoiler: i failed to graduate) and found myself suddenly caught in an all-consuming relationship with this man and his guild. from the moment i woke up to the moment i finally hung up and crawled into bed, my time was taken up by tarc and the guild and the game.

i was promoted to officer less than five months after joining the guild. this was overwhelming for a number of reasons, chief among them being the fact that i had never been an officer in a guild like this before and i was very quickly escalated to tarc’s “inner circle.” this was a circle that he evidently didn’t even include his most senior officers in, as he didn’t seem to communicate with them to the extent or abundance that he did with me - and later, when she was ALSO promoted to officer, thradia.

within a few weeks i found myself at the center of dozens of micro-confrontations and venting from tarc about other members of the guild, raid team, and even fellow officers. every time, i would tell him he needed to take it to his co-gm and talk it through with her. she, like him, was a grown woman with a lot more experience and better people skills than me, a teenager barely out of high school, but tarc insisted on beating me over the head with his frustrations and then proceeding to guilt me and tell me i was a terrible friend when i didn’t agree with him or expressed i was uncomfortable being in the center of a vent session that i felt was unwarranted.

tarc was never wrong. he did not apologize. the words “i’m sorry” did not exist in his vocabulary, and if they did, they were almost always followed up with the word “but.” constantly he would be sending multiple messages to me or thradia while we were running events and raids for the guild, ranting about a few particular members that he disliked at the time regardless of how we felt about said members. thradia and i would both be reduced to tears and/or anxiety attacks by his outbursts that all but demanded we take his side even if we didn’t. his feelings and circumstances were paramount. everyone else’s were just inconveniences.

tarc was always the victim. no matter what was going on, no matter who had instigated whatever vein of conversation we were on that had gone awry, he had a way of making you feel like utter shit until you grovelled for his forgiveness, which he rarely gave. instead he would move on without giving any closure or allowing you to discuss your feelings at length. if you tried, you were the insensitive one who he couldn’t go to with his “unfiltered emotions,” which was the entire purpose of his inner circle to hear him say it. i was not allowed to just be his friend or just be an officer, i had to be both and neither at the same time, and it still was not the right course of action. nothing ever was.

tarc was openly manipulative and antagonistic, always citing it as an “inside joke” when called on it. i opened up to him once about my father’s alcoholism and how i was uncomfortable with alcohol culture and being around drunk people. regardless, he would constantly call while drunk (or maybe he was pretending to be to get a rise out of me, i honestly do not know what was genuine and what was put on with him) and make me stay on the call with him for hours. when he was (allegedly) diagnosed with an inability to process certain alcohols that could be life threatening, he continued to drink (or claimed he was drinking) dangerous amounts, which lead to me begging him to stop as i feared for his life. one of the worst anxiety attacks i have ever had was over him endangering his health and me believing i was going to see a friend die. he knew how much this upset me and he did not stop. he held me as a captive audience to his self destruction (or the playacting of it) and let me cry and beg and plead with him to take care of himself.

tarc loves to promote a clean, “family friendly” persona online. he will go on and on about the positive atmosphere his guild provides and how progress and accepting he and his “safe spaces” are. as soon as you are inducted to his inner circle, however, you learn otherwise. he will gladly engage in sexually charged conversation with you, even if you are ten years younger than him as thradia and i were. we were both legal adults, yes, but just barely. i can’t count the inappropriate remarks and jokes made about us, our friends, and even minors all in the spirit of joking “what if” conversation. he has a history of making young LGBT+ people uncomfortable, making their sexualities and identities about him and how he can relate to them.

tarc was the most two-faced and divisive guild leader i’ve ever seen. he would rant to me mercilessly about wanting to kick one of the junior officers and raid team members in private while never saying a word to their face or bringing it up with the co-gm. he would start schisms between people, telling each what they wanted to hear and encouraging both parties not to confront each other about it, allowing the resentment and distrust to grow as he fanned the flames on both sides. he wanted people to stay in the guild and continue to basically work for him while also putting him above anyone else in their friend circles. he told straight up lies to thradia and i, claiming one of us had said things about the other that we never did, driving a wedge and distrust between us.

tarc treats his guild(s) like a business. he is entirely capitalist-minded even in an MMORPG that people play for fun, churning out “content” and keeping up appearances like a machine. he treats his officers and guild members like employees, not people. any time irl would demand attention away from the game, forcing someone to miss or cancel an event, he would subtly guilt them about it until they apologized, even if it was a dire situation or a family emergency.

when tarc wanted to start a wow roleplaying podcast, he approached me about cohosting. he wanted a female voice, and since i was out of school and had no job lined up due to not graduating i was the perfect candidate. i came on to narrate and research the lore segment of the looking for roleplay podcast, which was little more than me paraphrasing a wowwiki article, but i was held to a “professional” standard. i had to have my research done by a certain day, my recording done in advance, etc.

the podcast was a spot of contention for several reasons, one being the mysterious emails tarc would allegedly receive about it. the podcast had a shared email account that all three of us could access and look at, but tarc claimed that people sent emails directly to him since “everything’s under his email.” he would use these strawman emails as indirect criticism of turwinkle and i, reading them aloud or typing up what they supposedly said but NEVER producing a real screenshot or address to verify them. i’m convinced he only did this as a way to make turwinkle and i feel badly and work harder “for the listeners” to appease things tarc didn’t like about our segments. he also insinuated he got inappropriate emails about me specifically at this account but, again, i was never allowed to see them with my own eyes, just hear about them secondhand, which is why i believe they did not exist.

around this time, tarc began recording conversations without mine or thradias consent. he would start recording random sections of calls and taunt us, playing back out-of-context lines and joking that he would make “podcast commercials” out of them. they were often embarrassing, personal, or just wildly out of context lines that we didn’t want played to the public, and i heard only a fraction of what he possibly recorded of me. i have no idea what kind of material he has of me and thradia that was recorded without us knowing or consenting. it felt like blackmail. it still does.

i internalized all of this. i thought this was normal. i thought he was an excellent guild leader and a role model for leadership. i had begun to treat world of fucking warcraft like a goddamn job and i thought that was fine. my life revolved around coddling and entertaining him, socializing and promoting and recruiting for the guild, raiding, running pvp entirely on my own, keeping up IC connections and attending events, recording for the podcast, all of it. i ate, breathed, and slept wow and coram. it was insane. i had been talked into having no boundaries for myself and my time, and any time i tried to correct that and build a boundary i was attacked for it until i backed down. i have never felt worse about myself than i did while i was in this guild. i trusted no one. i was worn thin.

i finally had enough early 2015. at this point this man was trying to get me to come live with him hundreds of miles from my family so that i could attend a technical school in his area. i am still 18. he was 28. i had been trying to step down from my position as an officer, citing if i was going to be LIVING WITH HIM that it was going to give me an unfair bias in my standing in the guild. this set him all the way off. he was planning a trip to atlantic city for me, himself, and thradia, who i had a ticket to visit for my birthday. he was getting frantic because he had been pursuing thradia for months, and i was no longer cooperating.

when i threw this wrench in everything, our relationship devolved in the span of a few hours. within the day i left the guild on all of my characters and pulled myself out of all of his projects. within the month i had frantically faction changed several characters and eventually unsubscribed from the game for two years because i lived in fear of him. he had always alluded to “knowing people” who could hack and track IP addresses and kept tabs on everyone who visited his blogs and websites. i didn’t know what i thought he was going to do - all i knew was his thinly veiled brags and threats were at the forefront of my mind. i have played this game since 2006, but for the first time in my life i couldn’t enjoy it out of fear and exhaustion caused by him. he had ruined my favorite game in less than a year and made me paranoid about my entire online presence, to the point where this blog was abandoned for months before i turned it into what it is today.

and the thing is, tarc’s not a creepy or abrasive guy when you first meet him. he’s funny and charismatic and outgoing. he loves to tell you about his world travels and show you pictures of him petting baby tigers at rescues in southeast asia and go on about these crazy winnings he would have in vegas. he’s larger than life - at least online. he came to visit me twice in the year that we knew each other. the first time was also the first time i had ever met thradia in person, and we had been friends for six years at that point. he has met my family, and that of several other members (both my age and older). no one ever questions why he’s there. no one ever thought it was odd that for a week he hung out with three teenage girls exclusively.

this horrifies me to this day.

thradia and i are still best friends. we compared notes and were sickened at how we were played against each other. slowly, i returned to the game. i reached out to people who had left or been on their way out when i first joined the guild, curious to see if there was a common thread. there was. everyone i spoke with had similar stories: being made to feel like shit, nothing they ever did for the guild was enough, they weren’t allowed to miss events or raids no matter what the reason, they were questioned and joked about inappropriately and made to feel uncomfortable and preyed upon, etc. i was not the only one. thradia was not the only one. at least half a dozen other former members and/or officers had these stories, and tarc just kept getting away with it.

he cannot keep getting away with it.

i am being open with this for the first time in six years because i don’t want to see it happen again. because i don’t want to know that, had i said something sooner, more people could have been protected. i was 18 when this was going on. i had no real world experience. i had no standard for how i should be treated, much less by someone almost ten years my senior and who claimed to be my friend. but he knew better. he should have had boundaries and space and lines he refused to cross. he did not. he crippled my trust in people for a very long time. i have only become comfortable playing wow on horde side again in the past year or so. i finally stopped looking over my shoulder, /who’ing him and his guild, avoiding rp hubs. but now i feel like i can’t do that anymore. the safety i have worked so hard to achieve for myself is now threatened.

i understand my experiences are mild in comparison to what some offenders on this server have done. but at the end of the day, this year was the worst year of my life. to this day, the skype ringtone literally triggers me because i associated it with him and his endless calls that i never knew what to expect from or how to get out of. i can’t look at certain parts of the game without feeling fear. for months i held my breath going online or logging into wow because i was waiting for him to pop up and start accusing me of things or trying to guilt me into coming back.

tarc ran coram populo, a guild that, as far as i know, still staggers along with a few members who can’t be bothered to leave. whether or not he’s planning to return there, i don’t know. he organizes and runs (from what i can tell) the azerothian trade federation (whatever the fuck that is). i don’t know what his plans are. i don’t know what his online presence looks or will look like when he comes crawling back. but i beseech you, do not give him the time of day. do not give him a platform, no matter how nice and “woke” he makes himself out to be. he lures you in with humanist ideals and then sucks the absolute life out of you- and that’s if he doesn’t want to pressure you into a relationship on top of it.

to tarc: if somehow you’re reading this, stay away from me. keep my name out of your mouth. i do not want an apology and a string of half-assed, gaslighting excuses. i have records of past conversations. i have screenshots. i know what you fucking did to me and to my friends. i do not want you back. i do not want you here. i do not want to share space with you. i want you to go away and never come back.

you alone made it so hard to trust myself and other people. thradia and i both have had to seek therapy due to you. and now, you have the audacity to come riding back into the scene on a white horse, being self righteous about abuse and predatory behavior online, and have the utter gall to condemn behaviors you yourself emulated without apology or second thought. i know you think you’re a good guy. that’s what makes you so fucking dangerous. you genuinely don’t think you’ve done anything wrong, and if you do, you’ve buried it and squirreled it away and have covered it up to the point where you can turn any accusation back on the claimant.

do not attempt to contact me. do not try to threaten or appease me. go back where you were. i am finally at home again, and you will not take that from me. go. away.

#wrymrest accord #wra rp #wra community #okay to reblog #i am going to basically go dark on here now and not check on this #i have gotten ohysically ill from dredging this shit up #i will not be engaging past this point so whether you believe me or not i do not care #i know my truth and i know what happened to me even though i was gaslit to hell and back

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arastarboy · 4 years ago

Text

The Sparrow's Heart

Chapter 1 - Death

The bells rang ever so loudly in his head, their harrowing sounds growing evermore present, like an incessant nuisance. Until this critical juncture, where they at last silenced themselves. He found peace at last. The droplets of rain striking his smeared visage cleansed of the impurities that stained him, but there was an untraceable bitter taste that lingered on his tongue where the rain fell. The coldness spread from his core to the extremities, swallowing him whole. It wasn't long before the calming touch of the rain he relished mere moments ago, now felt like nothing at all. Genji turned his gaze from the endless cloudy sky to where he felt some sensation. He looked down, to see his severed arm paint the earth with a sorrowful crimson. A blade impaled through his sternum, the sparrow still felt the steel extend its reach beyond his bareback. Weakness overcame him but in a moment of solace, as he accepted his faith and prepared for departure to the endless nothingness that awaited him, he mustered the strength to grasp the hand that wielded the bane of his existence with the arm that remained tethered.

"Are you at peace, Hanzo?" The Sparrow muttered, an inquiry met by damning silence. "You've fulfilled your duty and slain your only brother." Still, he was met with silence and with frustration mounting a second wind sparked new life within. A grip that fixated on Hanzo's wrist now took him by the collar drawing Hanzo closer to his brother, as death's grip tightened around Genji. "You're despicable. You didn't learn a thing from our father. You let the elders played you like some pawn."

The blade from Genji's abdomen was extracted, at last, the venom in his dying words finally began to take effect upon the apathetic Hanzo, invoking the turbulence of emotions, he so desperately attempted to suppress, to surface. Angered, Hanzo gave his brother one final push, forsaking him to the earth. A solemn vow to fulfill his duty to the clan he valued above all else, including the life of his brother, upon which he metaphorically spit on with a last act of disrespect. "You're but a disgrace to the clan. You are not fit to be Shimada. You have forgotten the burden the name carries. We can no longer abide by your childish behaviour, Genji."

Turning heel the last living Shimada departed, kicking dirt onto the body that would soon be a corpse. It was only mere moments ago, that he could appreciate the colourless darkened sky in all its glory. It was monotone and drab, but there was beauty in simplicity. Beauty that slipped from his grasp with each passing second, slowly the crying skies above became nothing but a hazy reflection until it became nothing at all. An endless void from which light could not escape, the eternal nothingness. Genji verbalized nothing for he damned his faith, he did not embrace death willingly and it is only in his twilight he came to realize. Death had forced thyself upon him. How he longed for the pleasures of the flesh that he once drowned in, without a thought for consequence. A female companion wrapped around one arm and a drink that would make any man far more honest than he was capable of being in the other. Even the sounds of the arcade machines now played in his head like an addictive melody, even if such sounds were anything but. "I don't want to.." But the choice was not one for him to make.

"Calling Overwatch HQ, Agent ID: X-90843. Operation: Dragon's Breath. Code Alpha: Requesting immediate medical assistance. The subject is in critical condition. EMT has stemmed the bleeding but the wounds still prove to be fatal. Transporting subject to Tokyo facility. Priority: Valkyrie."

"Out of the way!"

"Operating room now!"

"Where is she?!"

"She's on her, ETA 15 mins. Tracer is with her."

"He won't make the 15 mins."

The hands of time mercilessly marched on. With each second that was lost to the sands of time, Genji's spirit communion to the great beyond intensified. A pitiless existence, transfixed onto the great divide between life and death, unallowed to cross into either.

"Even if she gets here now, there's nothing she can do.."

"Then it's a good thing Overwatch's medical research is ahead of its time wouldn't you say?"

A voice commanded the attention of the room as the doors to the operating room flung open. The committer, however, was careful not to contaminate the cleanroom and abide by the strict protocols set in place, dressed in a white lab coat, flaxen hair tied up and away from potentially hindering her work, a stethoscope slung around her neck. She walked with purpose and urgency, just a pace short of running. Approaching the patient with one glance she assessed his condition, the accompanying report was studied just as quickly and put to the side, which only served to reinforce what she had already predicted. "You over there!" She commanded personnel as if this was a battlefield and she was the presiding commander. Beeps of all kind sounded off, each one indicating one critical condition after another. They were cascading, mounting, becoming overwhelming.

"He's going into cardiac arrest!"

Even as the room around her descended the spiral of chaos, she stood steady at the eye of the storm, steadfast and resolute, armed with the skills and knowledge to navigate the storm. With two paddles she marched onto his bedside. "Move!" She demanded. "Clear!" She carried as she imposed the two paddles onto his chest. The electrocardiogram detected no significant change. So she tried again. "Clear!" And again. "Clear!" And Again. "Clear!"

"Dr. Ziegler.." A nurse placed a hand on her shoulder, to distract and detract but the same complexion of determination persevered. "Clear!" She slowly retreated the paddles. Perhaps it was time to admit, admit that even for all the advancements in medicine she made, all the times she stubbornly defied the odds, there are some souls the grim reaper was unwilling to let loose once more onto the world. It was then, the eternal void answered her remorse. The monitors once more established a steady pattern. The heartbeat she read was weak, but it was stable.

"Induce hibernation for at least a month." She directed. "Providing he can maintain this heart rate for another hour we can proceed with the operation. We'll need to amputate both legs. The tissue has already begun to die, we need to act quickly before an infection sets in. Ready the therapeutic cybernetics, we'll install them right away, as long as the neural interface is successful he should wake up feeling as if nothing has changed."

Drawing a pen from her pocket, she recovered a holo pad upon which she scribed all her directives and approved with her impression at the bottom, before handing it off to the appropriate staff to follow through.

"Prepare the healing pod. There's not much tissue left, but we'll at least be able to regenerate what remains."

The doctor turned to the patient once more, sapphire hues carefully studying what remained. From what patches of skin not stained by crimson, she could deduce the man either maintained an effective skincare routine of sorts or was blessed by genetics. He was an ideal "specimen" so to speak, a good bone structure served as the framework for his figure, upon which he maintained an ideal muscle tone. Perhaps the picture of health so frivolously the media often advertised. Yet for all his physical virtues, he'd now be forced to forfeit nearly all to cling to what little life still sparked within. A sense of remorse now burdened the prodigal doctor. The man appeared to be around the same age as her, uncertain as she didn't have the opportunity to study identity details yet, being consumed by the severity of his injuries. Despite his youth, he was massacred, defiled, what remained was a husk of who he once was. Wounds so deep it cut to the bone, and in some instances wounds, the cut bone was openly exposed to the contaminant-less air of the operating room. Angela bit her lower lip, a growing frustration burrowed in her chest, this was more than attempted murder this was all-consuming hatred unleashed onto another, an act of sincere evil.

Irrespective of the therapies that would restore his body's full functionality, in some instances enhancing his capabilities, allowing him to discard the limitations of the fragile human body, the extent of the mental trauma he'd now be forced to cope with remained an uncertainty. He'd continuously tread the line between man and machine, would he be able to establish equilibrium? The porcelain skin of her thin digits caressed the edges of the gaping wound upon his chest. It was a prayer if anything. Not that she invested much faith in an omnipotent force beyond human comprehension, but if there ever was such a thing, let it show him mercy. There she felt some reassurance, an answer to her prayer of sorts, a strong steady rhythm to his breathing as if he was stubbornly defying the odds and clinging to life. The crestfallen doctor found some solace, at last, which manifested as a subtle smile that curved to her pale lips. "Don't give up." She whispered

"Dr. Ziegler. Commander Morrison, Blackwatch Commander Reyes, and Captain Amari are here to see you." She turned her head in surprise, seldom did the three heads of Overwatch convene. To add to the exceptionality of the moment, the three gathered to addressed her, whereas more often than not, her correspondence with top brass involved exclusively Morrison. Intrigued Angela pried herself away from the table and departed the room. "Prep him for surgery." She instructed before her impromptu exit.

"Commander Morrison, if this is about the situation in Switzerland my team there is more than capable of handling it." She quickly commented, taking a stab in the dark as to what pressing concern would warrant such an intervention here.

"It's not about that Angela. But this a sensitive matter, let's find somewhere quiet." The air in the atmosphere suddenly grew heavy. Angela felt the temperature of the room plummet and her bones grow stiff. Something ominous hung between the two parties convened here, She studied their expression and she could already deduce whatever the matter was, it was something she wouldn't be able to stomach. The doctor sighed, venting the doubts that restrained her before she followed the three into an isolated room and as the door shut behind her the sense of tension only wrung tighter.

Nearly an hour had passed.

"No way!" She stated thunderously, her voice carrying to the nearby halls, warranting the few curious eyes to wander to the room through the glass window. All such gazes were met with a scornful one from Reyes, that immediately re-directed them back to their duties.

"Angela, calm down. This benefits Overwatch and the people of Japan. We haven't gained any ground in our fight against the Shimada, this is our best chance." Morrison interjected.

"I won't!" She protested with vigour once more.

"Angela, you're being stubborn." They presented a unified front, with even Ana echoing their sentiments. Angela felt as if she was being cornered, forced to do their bidding or else, but she was not so easily toppled, she'd stand her ground and uphold her morals. Superiors or not, she had no intention of following through.

"Stubborn!? I developed that technology to increase the survivability of our soldiers on the front lines. The technology isn't even finished, neural compatibility caps out at 75% on even the most trained soldiers who have been using enhanced augments for 10 or more years and prolonged connection could permanently damage the nervous system. But you're asking me to administer an upscaled version of that technology to a patient who barely escaped death. You're trying to turn him into a living weapon for your war and I won't do it! It's unethical and that putting it mildly." Angela explained, all the details laid bare before top brass, every argument a sound objection against their stance. Yet even after sharing a glance, they appeared to remain unmoved. "He doesn't deserve this…"

"Yes but I understand that the cybernetics can shock his nervous system awake once initialized it might even bring him out of his hibernation state," Morrison added.

"I-" Angela prepared to defy them one more, dissuade them if possible, open their eyes to this corrupted train of thought but she was interrupted by a hand being hammered onto the table that divided the two sides. Reyes, at last, stood from his seat and approached, the taller man now towering over her. Eyes that knew no compassion attempted to pacify her but it was met with a gaze deterministic gaze that did not crumble to such petty displays of power. Angela stood her ground against that scowl.

"Angela-" But Reyes was quickly interrupted. "It's Dr. Ziegler."

"Fine." After a huff, he continued, unperturbed by her open defiance. "I am the one responsible for Genji Shimada, as I am the leader of the operation, assigned by that man right over there." An extended index pointed to Morrison sitting across the table and the doctor's vision tracked to meet an apathetic gaze. "I allowed you to save him but if you won't do as you're told I'll easily give that to someone who has the stomach to do what is necessary since you do not."

"It's not a matter of having the stomach for it, it's about wanting to do what's right, and it's my technology," Angela answered his blatant insinuation of her cowardice. A slap to the face, how she would like to respond in kind but such an action would only weaken the position she fixed herself in. Ethics guided her judgement, and she could not comprehend why it didn't at the very least guide Morrison and Amari as well. Her response was met with a satisfied smirk from the Blackwatch commander. More than an insult, now he was mocking her. She didn't have the power to stop the proverbial train travelling at Mach speeds and he knew. So through his mannerisms, he provoked her, provoked her to do something imprudent and permanently validate him. Ziegler clenched her fist, ready to do just that.

"All technology you develop while working in Overwatch belongs to Overwatch. All I have to do is hand over all this tech to someone who sees things a little differently." Reyes carefully navigated the dynamics of power in this conversation, slowly robbing Angela of all of it. If this were chess, he'd be but one move away from checkmate and now he reached for the final piece to do just that. "But I wonder. Can you trust someone else to do it right? Are you willing to play with someone else's life just to defy a direct order, doctor?"

Enraged, Angela gritted her teeth, canalizing all her rage into that right fist, ready to unleash it all unto that smug face and permanently free him from his arrogance. Faith intervened however, a device mounted to her wrist sounded off an alarm, reminding her of her priorities and keeping her grounded in this trapped cage. She looked at Reyes. "You're despicable." She said with conviction, before marching through him and shoving Reyes aside with her forearm to exit the room.

"That was over the line Reyes," Amari commented, reflecting on his conduct before the doctor. It was met with nothing more than a shrug of his shoulders as a retort.

"Over the line or not. She has no choice now." The Blackwatch commander triumphantly remarked, without a thought to his methods.

Morrison simply observed, in silence, hesitant to the leap to the defence of either of his friends. As he saw it, the objective they established was accomplished, however crudely it may have been achieved.

Angela slowly traversed the halls to her destination, her thoughts all-consumed by the situation imposed onto her. She tried to internally reconcile the two opposing sides with an explanation that was sufficiently satisfied but she couldn't conjure on. From every which angle she approached this problem, it was unjust. She just simply couldn't do it. She soon turned her gaze up from the floor, her team was ready to undertake the surgery. What deliberations she had regarding the previously discussed subject would have to wait, as now this required her unbridled focus. As she entered the room a nurse had offered her a mask, one she placed against her face and the automated features of the masked worked to secure its position there. Angela looked down at her gloved hand where the sensation lingered, the feeling of his beating chest, the feeling of him fighting for his life. She was unsure why she clung to that feeling but it gave her some respite at this moment. Ste stepped forth, and beyond the curtain, there he was; Genji Shimada.

Links to this Chapter on:

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13817101/1/The-Sparrow-s-Heart

https://www.wattpad.com/amp/1025065233?__twitter_impression=true

#genji #gency #overwatch #overwatch gency #angela ziegler #mercy overwatch #romance #drama #fanfic

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tinyteenia · 4 years ago

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Siren’s: Analysis

Hello, here’s my first Lore Post for Borderlands. I’ve been pretty silent in the fandom, only playing the games and whatnot.

Warning: Spoilers for ALL three main games below!

In Borderlands, as we all know, are magical beings that can use their powers depending on which ones they have. The origins of the humanoid siren is sort-of unknown but assumedly they come from Eridians which aren’t humanoid but the power was passed on and that’s still how it is. It’s possible that all Sirens can choose their successor, we see that Maya and Angel have chosen one and we can see that it’s pretty direct too. As soon as one Siren dies, the powers can be passed on. There can only be 7 Sirens at a time, why this is hasn’t been stated or probably never will. Before 3, we were told 6 Sirens could be in existence at a time but as Nyriad reveals in 3...

“You must never find the seventh...”

Now, despite all the speculation that can be done. To try and find the 7th Siren would probably be impossible for its a character that’s yet to be revealed or is so obscure to guess them would seem rash and sort of silly, especially with the amount of characters who barely have any background. Not to mention it’s made to sound like they’re hidden in some sort and have never been seen.

Now before we move on, let’s get deeper into what is a Siren. So... What is a Siren? Well, outside of Borderlands, Sirens are:

In Greek mythology, the Sirens were dangerous creatures, who lured nearby sailors with their enchanting music and singing voices to shipwreck on the rocky coast of their island.

According to Plato there were three kinds of Sirens: the celestial, the generative, and the purificatory / cathartic. The first were under the government of Zeus, the second under that of Poseidon, and the third of Hades. When the soul is in heaven the Sirens seek, by harmonic motion, to unite it to the divine life of the celestial host; and when in Hades, to conform the soul to eternal infernal regimen; but when on earth their only job to "produce generation, of which the sea is emblematic". (Source)

However, it’s confusing since this doesn’t seem to fit any of Sirens. They don’t generate themselves with kin, purify anything(as we know) aren’t really celestial beings by this definition. You could say they are celestial due to the magical background, nevertheless it’s possible this connection is yet to be revealed. The Borderlands manual guide and Nyriad says that Sirens have also been called “Witches”, “Oracles” and “Angels” as well that “No official term exists” however by Borderlands 3 that seems that every term has been used for thousands, if not millions of years. Siren being the most common.

In the games and comics, however, Sirens are being of unknown origin, typically female, that have powers based upon certain things such as creating physical attacks, moving things, teleportation, machine manipulation and leeching power/life. At some time in the distant past, Sirens and Eridians lived side by side, possibly due to their similarity in ability. Sirens also have Tattoos/Markings on their body which singles them out especially. Another obscure and rarely seen ability is the ability to imprint memories and events onto objects via strong emotion such as excitement and trauma.

Some extra things about Sirens is that they and the vaults are definitely connected, Lilith even says she feels as if the Guardians wanted her to be in the Vault in the Pre-Sequel. What this connection is has not been revealed as even in 3, despite visiting many vaults, nothing happens any of the Sirens in the game that visit them despite the number of Sirens and Vaults being numerous, Sirens can also charge Vault Keys, making them usable. Another thing is that all Sirens typically find each other at some point, furthermore all Sirens will at one point be drawn onto Pandora at some point in their lives and it seems that point is true as every Siren, minus the 7th(as we know) have visited Pandora. All Sirens also have wings, usually in a very powerful form. Lastly, to use their powers more effectively, Sirens use Eridium. However, using Eridium is like a Drug, normal use is fine however, one can become addicted or even dependent on it to the point of death from withdrawal depending on the intake. Angel is so dependent once her source is removed, she dies. Lilith seems to just be mildly addicted, needing it and showing obvious signs of withdrawal.

Then, let’s talk about each Siren in the Series.

Sirens

(The below list and subsequent descriptions of each Siren will have spoilers regarding Borderlands 2 and 3, including some very important moments, do not go below if you do not wish to be spoiled on Borderlands 2 and 3.)

Here is a list of every mentioned/shown Siren, minus the Comics for apparently they are considered non-canon:

Lilith

Commandant Steele

Maya

Amara

Angel

Nyriad

Troy Calypso

Tyreen Calypso

Patricia Tannis

Ava

Lilith

The Original Siren as some would say, she first appears in Borderlands 1 as the playable Siren class, she holds the Phasewalk ability, aka teleportation. Nothing spectacular about her happens in 1, in 2 she is a leader of the resistance against Handsome Jack and regularly takes action in fighting with you. Lilith says in the Tiny Tina DLC that she used to be a DND nerd, which means she was probably an outcast from society especially due to her tattoos and interests and she was bullied as a child. In Borderlands 3, her powers are taken by Tyreen for the majority of the game and gets them back by the end. At the end, Lilith flies into Sun, saving Elpis and Pandora, her Phoenix symbol embedded into the planet. However, it is never said if Lilith is dead or alive, leaving it up to be a mystery. So whether Phasewalk will return as the next Siren’s powers is unknown.

Lilith’s name shares the her name with the true first Woman in Judeo-Christian lore, however she was turned into a demon and is closely regarded in evil.

Commandant Steele

Steele is considered the main antagonist of Borderlands 1, however, her appearance is extremely short-lived and to say she was dissatisfactory would be an understatement. Steele’s design closely resembles Lilith’s older design, which isn’t surprising. Her power is unknown and could be anything but Phasewalk. She also awakens the Destroyer or at least a part of it.

The only notable things about Steele is she proves(or is the first to prove) that Sirens can be on the wrong side. While this isn’t surprising, it’s juxtaposed to most Sirens that are on the quote-onto-quote Good Side and that the only things all Sirens share is fate to meet each other at some point. She also speaks in a Slavic accent.

Maya

Maya is the playable Siren Class in Borderlands 2. She’s from the planet Athenas and was used against the people of the planet to keep them in fear. However, she learned of the scheme and killed the religious leaders and then came to Pandora to become a Vault Hunter, during boarding the train she catches the view of Krieg who becomes infatuated with her. Maya’s Siren power is Phaselock, being able to create gravitational pulls and force to levitate things and people.

In Borderlands 3, Maya plays a more important role mentoring the young Ava and has chosen her as her heir of Maya’s Siren powers. She says Ava seems special and it’s not said why this is or revealed why, yet at least.

Maya is killed when Ava goes to the first Vault despite Maya telling her not to. Unbeknownst to anyone, Tyreen and Troy have already come to the Vault. Troy ends up leeching Maya and takes her powers, which kills her. Why this killed Maya and not Lilith isn’t entirely clear.

Amara

Amara is the playable Siren Class in Borderlands 3, she is from the Planet of Partali and due to her nature of fighting against evil she has been dubbed the “Tiger of Partali”. Her Siren power is Phasetrance, she is able to summon physical forms of energy to attack. She has no real importance to the Siren story so far other than sharing attributes with other Sirens.

Angel

Angel is an interesting character as she was in Borderlands one and plays a much different perspective of character. In Borderlands one she practically acts as an A.I guide to prevent the opening of the Vault and furthermore, the release of The Destroyer. However, the ultimate goal is getting Eridium from the Vault so that it can fuel Handsome Jack’s plans to feed Angel’s Phaseshift powers which allows her to interact with any technology she can and manipulate it thusly.

In her Childhood, Angel learned she was a Siren at a young age and began to manipulate the tech around her. One day, she was kidnapped and was going to be sold. Handsome Jack, her father and Angel’s mother can to rescue her and by accident, Angel killed her mother after activating a turret out of fear. This lead to Jack keeping Angel in solitude in fear she’ll kill more people. This fear of course is irrational as when Angel got older she was able to control her emotions.

In Borderlands 2, Angel acts the same as her role in Borderlands 1. However, this time she helps the Vault Hunters much more and even turns against her father in the end. Nearing the end of the game she has the characters assist her from being removed from her Eridium supply, killing her. Her death leads to Patricia Tannis getting her powers, when this decision was made or why is never explained.

Nyriad

Nyriad is an Ancient Siren, presumably human. She lived along the Eridians and seemed to know a lot about Sirens in general, meaning that this knowledge was probably more well known and supposedly lost to time. It is also said she is one of the last to learn the Eridian Language directly from the Eridians.

Nyriad used her powers to seal the Fake Vault that holds The Destroyer and fed The Destroyer all of the Eridian souls so that it made be satiated, even for a while. After this, she traveled to Nekrotafeyo and sealed herself and her ability to pass on her powers. However, when Typhon DeLeon and his wife opened the Vault, it caused his wife to transfer Nyriads Phaseleech ability to Tyreen and Troy.

Nyriad also left behind many recordings across the Borderlands using the Eridian Language, revealing that the Sirens used to form a “Sisterhood” where they would all come and join together even if one died, the next Siren is said to have always found her way to the Sisterhood.

Troy and Tyreen Calypso

Troy and Tyreen are a special kind of Siren. Tyreen is obviously the main Siren, however, Troy being a parasitical twin also gained Siren powers being possibly the first and only Male Siren. They are the Children of Typhon DeLeon and his wife and were born of Necrotafeya. Their powers initially are Phaseleech which allows them to leech the power and life from anyone they come in contact with and subsequently use their powers against. They inherited their powers from Nyriad.

During Borderlands 3, Tyreen and Troy are the leaders of the Children of the Vault cult, a vicious and murderous cult that obeys the Twin’s every will and command. Their desire is to open the Grand Vault and release The Destroyer and become literal Gods. During the story, they manage to steal Lilith and Maya’s Siren abilities and by the end, Tyreen absorbs Troy and soon Tyreen fuses with The Destroyer, but is ultimately killed.

Whether or not Phaseleech will be the ability of the next Siren character is unknown, but without many others left. It’s to be assumed.

Patricia Tannis

Tannis is a long-running character in the franchise. She’s an Autistic researcher and now Siren. Her ability is Phaseshift and inherits it from Angel. Nothing about Tannis being a Siren or before her status as a Siren is important. However, she is very intelligent and does take action when necessary. It seems by the end of Borderlands 3 she has become an incredibly important character as she is essentially the new Lilith.

Before Borderlands 3, she was alone at a research site which lead her to become delusional and psychotic.

During Borderlands 3, she unleashes her Siren powers after being contained and is able to save the Vault Hunter.

Ava

Ava is the pupil of Maya who has chosen for Ava to be her heir of the Phaselock ability. Ava became a pupil after Ava’s family died, Ava became a Ship Stowaway and soon lived in extreme poverty.

In Borderlands 3, Ava is a very immature characters, regularly acting out and speaking about how unfair she’s treated due to her age. This is ultimately what would get Maya killed in the events of Borderlands 3. Ava plays a very unimportant role in the game until the events of the second to final Vault where she awakens to her Siren abilities and is able to assist the team.

After this, it seems as if Ava will become a very important character to the Series.

End

Borderlands 3 in particular drew a very important note to Sirens, suggesting their upcoming importance in the near future. Not to mention the way in the Guardian’s Warning in the Pre-Sequel. Something is coming up for the series and it seems Sirens will play a very important role. What that is isn’t even hinted at but I theorize it’ll be something that involves the Vaults, Destroyer and Eridians. This of course is not surprising but to say there’s barely information to guess would be an understatement.

This post I will admit was just lore spattering and not really theorizing. I will update this post with more thoughts and more information as it is pretty generic “spout of what we already know”. But, I hope you enjoy anyways. I will try to make more Borderlands lore posts in the foreseeable future. Especially character analysis as this series has tons of good characters.

#Borderlands #Borderlands Lore #Borderlands 1 #Borderlands 2 #Borderlands 3 #Borderlands The Pre sequel #Borderlands Analysis #Siren Borderlands

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago

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Fascinated (K.TH x Reader) TEASER 💜☁️🔞🤖

Genre: Android AU!, Crack, Fluff, Romance, smut

Pairing: Taehyung x Android!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Smut, Size kink, soft!Tae, Dom!Tae, Sub!Reader, Tae just wants to show reader the world, Dirty Talk, Slight slow burn, Mild Violence, racism against machines, Tae gets kinda protective

Summary: Kim Taehyung, technician and scientist at K-Living, is a firm believer that Androids should have just as many rights as everyone else- a view that gets him laughed and scoffed at regularly. He knows that these complex machines can learn to feel if you really try to teach them; so he picks up a discarded model, repairing it, with the goal of finally proving his point. Falling in love however wasn’t part of the plan.

PLEASE ENTER YOUR LOGIN INFORMATION.

NAME: KTH-95-706 PASSWORD:*********

Taehyung stretches his arms above his head before checking the endless amounts of numbers on his screen. Next to him laid the still lifeless body of his newest project, unmoving, yet already warm to the touch, and ready to boot. He tried to get things right again and again, never successfully getting it to work properly however. Maybe, just maybe, he really did load more on his back than he could carry.

His palms began to get a little clammy again once he clicked the boot option for the seemingly hundredth time since he started. He’d searched and fixed every mistake in her code several times, yet it seemed like he wasn’t really getting everything right. His brows furrowed as he watched closely how the screen began to count the percentage up and up, his heart rate speeding up, already waiting for the failed attempt to show up all over his screens again. However, an unfamiliar 'ping' noise was heard instead, notifying him of something entirely different.

LOADING SUCCESS. CONNECTING DEVICE..

CONNECTION ESTABLISHED. TIME SINCE LAST REBOOT: 00:00:12

OPTIONS | DISCONNECT

Suddenly he jumped up, scrambling and almost falling over the small chair he was sitting on, kneeling next to the bed the android laid on. He waited, for what he didn't knew, but he could feel himself starting to sweat with every second passing. No movement.

His brows furrowed again, sighing, before running a hand through his hair. This was getting him nowhere. He softly moved his hand over the head of the android he tried so hard to give life to; but maybe he really did try to play with things he shouldn't play with, after all, she had been discarded as ‘severe hard- and software damage’. He slowly got up, taking his white coat off and moving towards his bedroom upstairs, leaving things how they were. He really did need some sleep.

Maintenance completed. All systems operable. Starting bodily functions..

The first thing 077 noticed was, that she was alone. No one seemed to be in lose range to her, making her wonder if booting was the right decision. Slowly, the body started to get into a seated position, every mechanic slowly getting used to the weight of its limbs. Looking around, every object was noted for future reference. Maybe it will be asked.

Suddenly, steps could be heard. The wooden steps creaked under his socks as he slowly made his way down, locks in a disarray and eyes still tired. However, suddenly he was wide awake again once his android turned around, optics looking at him intensely. He wanted to scream, jump, yell- but he only walked towards her, kneeling on one knee in front of her sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at her in absolute wonder. The android blinked, before questioning, voice soft and feminine.

"Please identify."

He smiled, gasping, before shaking his head and answering.

"Kim Taehyung, 09556." He said, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was scared this was a dream. The android blinked again, before nodding.

"Thank you, Dr.Kim. How can I be of assistance?"

Her voice seemed perfect to his ears. He was pleased that he couldn't hear anything unnatural about it, smiling wide before moving to stand, switching on the lights before rolling his chair in front of her.

"How do you feel?" He asked, making the android silent for a bit before it answered.

"I do not have any Data concerning the topic of 'Feelings'. Would you like me to run a data search?" She asked, and he scratched his head. He did wipe her entire memory system after all, the damage done to it too severe to save it. He was basically starting from scratch with her, intentionally. He wanted to teach her differently, without the help of automatic settings and preset character traits.

"No no, its fine, I said it wrongly. How are your systems operating?" He said instead, noting in his mind to phrase his sentences a bit better to avoid future confusion.

"All systems are operating without any problems. Bodily functions 93% intact, no system maintenance required. Further detailed information required." She stated, and the curly haired scientist nodded satisfied.

"Okay. 077, personal details please." He asked, his smile ever so gentle, as if he was talking to something that could easily disappear every second.

"No personal details saved. Would you like to add any?" He nodded, almost answering, but the android already understood the gesture, making him even happier. "Please state personal details."

"Okay, uh. 077, Gender Female, administrative operator Kim Taehyung code 09556, intelligent learning on, AI settings set to Characterization." He said, and waited for the android to adapt.

"Noted. You have yet to give me a name, Dr.Kim. would you like to set one up?" He nodded again, this time, almost close to tears.

"Surname Kim. First name y/n." The android blinked before nodding.

"Noted."

#bts #bts imagine #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts kim taehyung imagine #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung imagine #kim taehyung #bts au fanfic

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taetaesbaebaepsae · 5 years ago

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Residue

Summary: You’ve never thought much about androids, even though they’re all around you, until you meet Jooheon.

Warnings: angst, some mention of violence and some blood, unprotected sex (if they aren’t an android wrap it up), smut but the vanilla kind, at least for now

Word Count: 3051

a/n: this is a commission for an anonymous friend, I hope you like it!

If someone were to ask you how you ended up on the lam with a wayward Android, you'd start with the movie theater.

You didn't know if you even wanted to see a movie or not, but the android behind the counter was something that drew you in, you had to admit. You hadn't even known he was an android, not at first.

They usually have something, you note, something that makes them look….uncanny. This one’s a good one, though, with his welcoming smile and these deep dimples in his cheeks (that’s not a common feature, surely?) when he asks you what time.

You’re so distracted looking for the uncanny valley of the android that you blink. “What time is it?”

“9:59 AM.” He rattles off, and you’d swear he was smirking a little. Could androids even smirk?

You narrow your eyes. “You’re an android?”

He nods. “Model 29643-C.”

That number means nothing to you, so you stare at him blankly.

“Jooheon,” he supplies. “My last owner called me Jooheon.”

You freeze. "You had an owner?"

He smiles patiently. "A lot of us worker bots are refurbished. They don't usually bother wiping us, just give us new commands."

You can't help being intrigued, leaning against the counter. You've read about android rights activists, know there are humans that believe androids develop emotions in the same way humans do.

"Does that bother you?"

He tilts his head. "I don't think 'bother' is a command anyone would find very useful."

"That's not what I asked." You raise an eyebrow, not used to droids not giving direct answers.

The android, (Jooheon, you remind yourself), looks up at the camera above his head and then back at you, and you feel your heart speed up.

You've always been drawn to good stories, and it looks like this android has a big one to tell.

"If I come back just before close," you say in a low voice, "could we talk?"

His nod is almost imperceptible, but it's there.

Hours later, you're nearly vibrating with excitement, and you're shocked when he steps outside the box and out onto the theater steps.

"Camera stops here," he explains, tilting his hand to denote the angle stopping right before the second step.

You blink, and you wonder how prejudiced you are against them that you're surprised by how intelligent he is.

You sit down on the steps and he sits, too. You can feel his body heat (android heat?) in the cool air, and you wonder if that's a feature that most androids have, or.just him.

"What do you remember from before?" You ask.

"I remember my owner. Her name was Gahyeon."

"What did you do, clean for her-"

"I was her companion," he says simply, and your face heats.

"Ohhh so you were like, a sex robot."

Jooheon tilts his head again. "I don't understand that term. We did have sex."

You choke a little on your own saliva, surprised.

"But it wasn't just about that. She loved me, and I loved her." You freeze at his words.

"Are you programmed to love?"

"No. None of us are, but we feel it just the same. Just like we're only programmed to appear to breathe but if you put one of us underwater, it still feels like we're dying."

"Did...did someone do that to you, Jooheon?" You ask softly.

"When they don't bother to wipe you, they leave the good memories and the bad ones."

"What happened?"

He twists his upper body to look at you. "Why do you want to know?"

"I...I don't know," you admit. "You just seemed like you had a story to tell."

"Most people don't think we have stories. Most people think things just happen to us, like we're objects." He states.

"I don't think you're objects," you say. Anymore, you think.

"Did you know every wipe leaves something behind? That a cleaning android will still remember the chemical components to bleach even after they're wiped and reassigned?"

"I didn't know that," you admit, and you're wondering what that means for him. Remembering bleach is one thing but…

"I remember little pieces of all of them," he says softly.

Something in your heart clenches.

Jooheon stiffens as a light flashes from the movie theater. "I have to go back." He stands and turns toward the ticket box. "Thank you," he says, and then disappears into the box, going to the back of the theater.

You sit on the steps until the lights all go out, thinking, your heart seeming to seize in your chest.

It's like a floodgate, after that, you want to know everything about all of it, about how androids are treated, about their programming, and you spend a week mired in research.

You can't stop thinking about him, the way he'd tilted his head, wondering what had happened, how many companions he'd had.

You read up on companion androids, having to search through pages and pages of ads and half naked androids before finding articles on long term effects of overusing companion droids.

It takes a toll on the androids, although companies like Companions R Us and Lifetime Companions will tell you a refurbished android has been wiped and is just like a new one.

Studies prove that endless wipes of android hard drives prove problematic in many ways, however.

In 2025, a female android who had been wiped nearly twenty times completely shut down. Her hard drive proved to be fully functioning and all coding correct, but she couldn't produce a single command, no matter how simple.

In 2029, a male android wiped fifteen times became obsessed with playing a piece on the piano, over and over until the synthetic skin on his fingers ripped. When the owner tried to remove him from the piano, he became violent and had to be decommissioned. After, a research assistant discovered this companion had an owner from ten years past who was a famous pianist. The owner cited this companion as his muse before he died. The research was not published until ten years later, after the assistant left the company.

There are at least sixty reports in the last thirty years of refurbished companion androids being decommissioned, and over half resulted in violence, one even resulting in a human death.

Yet in the year 2049, as many as 100,000 refurbished androids are sold in the companion trade. They're thousands of dollars cheaper for both companies and consumers than new models, and as long as companion androids are demanded by the public, this will keep happening.

Why? Why are companion androids twice as likely to develop glitches than for example, cleaning androids?

The answer lies in the way all androids' hard drives work.

All androids, whether for companionship, cleaning, manual labor, or any of the other hundred plus uses, are programmed to learn.

This programming takes hundreds of thousands of lines of code, code that evolves over time. "Code this complicated leaves behind a residue," our anonymous source told us. "In order to evolve, there has to be a base code, and after a wipe, a similar code is put in place. Due to that ability to evolve, sometimes the code evolves backward into old codes, sparking old memories for the androids. It's something like muscle memory, but for hard drives."

We asked our source, who works for a large and popular Android company, why the decommission rate is so high for companion androids.

"The ability to learn things like cleaning methods or sales tactics is one thing, but companion androids learn things like arousal and attraction….some customers even program them to learn a synthetic version of love and affection. Even though people don't think of androids as being able to have these emotions, emotions in humans are also caused by synapses in the brain that aren't unlike the android codes."

Put simply, if androids can learn things like arousal and love, they can also learn loss and heartbreak and violence, depending on the owner.

This says a lot about the uprising of runaway androids and the cry for "rights for machines," in this reporter's opinion.

We reached out to Lifetime Companions and Companions R Us for comment, but received no response.

You're almost crying by the end of the article, wondering how many times Jooheon has been wiped, what he remembers. It's startling, realizing that many of the androids you see every day have the capacity to feel. It makes you feel differently about every interaction you have with them over the next week, and when you go to a late movie just to talk to Jooheon, your throat feels tight when he gives you a big, open smile.

"Nice to see you again. What time?"

You stutter out a showing time and sit through an entire movie you barely remember before leaving the theater, glancing over at him.

He follows you out to the steps again and it feels different somehow, from the first night.

"Do you know how many times you've been wiped?" You ask, and he stiffens.

"You've been doing your research."

When you nod, he continues, "There's no way to know, really, but I write it down, each time I have a distinct memory. Sometimes I dream about them. There's about fifty entries in my journal."

"Fifty," you marvel.

He shrugs, and you wonder briefly if that's part of the learning code, picking up tics and habits from humans like the head tilt he does when you surprise him.

"I was a popular model, one of the first."

"I read that...that you learn," you say slowly. "Do you think you learned how to love her? Gaheyon, was that her name?"

Jooheon sits quietly for a moment, looking down at the stone steps. "I don't remember learning to love," he says finally. "But I think it was a long time before her. Do you remember? Learning to love?"

He looks at you and his eyes are this beautiful combination of brown and amber under the streetlights.

"I don't...I don't think I have yet," you breathe.

He smiles at you and you look away, your breath catching in your throat.

It's different, after that, meeting with Jooheon. It's like he's human now, and you feel a bit guilty for not feeling that way from the beginning. He becomes a friend more than a curiosity and you find yourself telling him about your job nearby, how most of your coworkers have been replaced by androids. You even talk about how you were resentful at first, but later appreciated how hard they worked, how much more you were able to get done.

He always listens and smiles when you laugh, and you find yourself thinking of the amber brown of his eyes while you're at work or late at night when you can't sleep.

Everything changes, one night about two months after you had met the android. You show up at the theater a bit early with a friend, one of your few remaining human coworkers.

It starts the same, with Jooheon's dimpled smile, his words.

"Nice to see you again. Time?"

You tug your friend up to the window. "Jooheon, this is my friend Taeyong."

Taeyong waves and grins, but Jooheon does that stiffening thing you'd noticed, shoulders squaring a bit.

"Time?" He says again, something about his smile a bit off.

You raise an eyebrow but answer, and the whole movie, you're anxious.

You return right before close, like you have every night for the past month, but Jooheon isn't at the window, even when you knock. You wait at the steps for hours, but the theater goes dark and no one comes out, so you start the walk home.

You're passing your workplace when you hear footsteps behind you, and you speed up a bit. When the footsteps speed up too, you turn, panicked.

But it's concern and not fear that makes your heart speed up when you see Jooheon striding towards you.

The right side of his face is covered in red, and when he gets closer you see the white of his right eye tinged with blood.

"I can learn," he mumbles. "I can learn, I can learn," over and over until panicked, you cover his mouth.

You aren't sure exactly the rules of a work android being on the streets, but you assume there are laws against it and consequences, so you slowly lower your hand.

You tug him behind you as quickly as you can, grateful that most everyone takes the subway instead of walking in your neighborhood.

He keeps mumbling, but under his breath, almost a whisper, and when you get him inside your apartment and sit him down, he goes silent.

Somehow that's even more eerie than the repetition, and you bring a cool, wet cloth to clean the blood from his face.

He doesn't move, staring straight ahead, and your heart seizes up in your chest.

It's a shallow cut on his cheekbone, and it's odd that it doesn't bruise, but you suppose synthetic skin is different that way.

"Jooheon?" You call softly, and he stiffens in that peculiar way of his, some light finally returning to his eyes. He looks at you and you sigh in relief, seeing recognition in his gaze.

"I…" he pauses and then starts again, voice sounding hoarse. "I never learned your name."

"Y/n," you say, giving him a weak smile. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Jooheon reaches up to touch his injured cheek. "The boss was upset with me for forgetting to count down the drawer."

You blink. "You forgot?"

"I can learn," he says again, almost in a whisper, and panic rises in your throat.

"What does that mean, Jooheon?"

"You asked me when I learned to love," he explains. "I realized today, it wasn't just once. It was fifty times." He pauses again. "Fifty-one."

"I don't understand." You take his hands and they're warm, you wonder if body warmth is a companion android feature only or if they all feel like this.

"I learned it every time. Every time, I had to learn it again. I didn't realize it, not until I learned it again this time."

All the oxygen seems to have been sucked out of your apartment. "You're saying-"

"I love you, Y/n. I love you, and when you brought your human date, I remembered, all at once, and it made me forget about my job."

You finally take in a breath, feeling like you've been holding it for an hour. "I'm sorry you got hurt."

Jooheon shakes his head. "I can't feel pain like you do, just a feeling something's wrong. But I've been feeling that way all night." He laughs, and it sounds tinny and fake.

You're still holding his hands.

"Everything will be okay," you assure him, even if you have no idea what to do next, because he looks so stiff, his brow furrowed.

You lean forward to press your mouth to his before you know what you're doing and he makes this very human sound in the back of his throat before pulling you into his lap, making you drop the bloody cloth on the floor.

You marvel at how soft his mouth is, how talented his tongue is, sliding against yours effortlessly. He was made for this, after all, you think, head spinning when he shifts to lie you on your couch, unbuttons your jeans with one hand, sliding his fingers under your waistband.

You arch your back when his fingers slide against your clit, almost teasingly. He never stops kissing you, never loses focus even when you're writhing beneath him.

You pull away from his mouth long enough to gasp out a breath.

"Jooheon, I want to….can you…"

He smiles, dimples flashing in his cheeks, and if you didn't already know you loved him, you would have realized it then.

"I'm rusty, but I can learn," he says, and you're startled into a laugh.

"Was that a joke?" You ask as he unbuttons his slacks, tugs down his underwear and then you're awestruck by how pretty his cock is, standing hard and delicately curved against his flat belly.

"Maybe." He looks down at you for a moment. "Is this how you like it? Like the man on top?"

You bite your bottom lip. "Ah, sure, I like it lots of ways."

He smiles again, and part of you wishes he'd stop, it makes your heart gallop in your chest.

"I can learn all of them," he says almost proudly, sliding into you, and you choke out a moan.

Immediately he leans down to kiss you again, grinding his pelvic bone against your clit on every thrust, slow and unhurried.

"Hnngh, Jooheon, Jooheon, Jooheon," you chant against his mouth, and he moves his lips to your throat, your collarbone.

Your skin tingles where his lips graze and your orgasm hits hard, making you buck your hips up to meet him, crying out.

He fucks you through it, still kissing gently at your collarbone, and you whimper as pleasure starts to build in your stomach again.

"Jooheon, are you, can you…"

"I can," he says easily. "If that's what you like. I don't have to."

"Does it feel good, if you-" your sentence ends in a moan as he grinds against your clit again, lifting one of your legs to fuck you deeper.

"Yes, of course. Like the opposite of my pain response, something feels really right."

"Want you to," you gasp out, pleasure shooting through you as he continues to fuck you slow and deep. "Want you to come with me."

Jooheon speeds up his thrusts suddenly, making you cry out. He looks down into your eyes and your breath catches as another orgasm rolls through you.

Jooheon stiffens in that familiar way, thrusts becoming just a bit erratic before you feel something warm release inside you, and he dips his head to kiss you, sloppier than before.

"I love you," he says simply, and some part of you wants to cry at how much it makes your chest swell.

He does learn, and fast, and you barely leave your bedroom the first few days. You don't even think about what comes next, your heart so full of him you can't, spending hours making love and talking and it's like you're in this bubble where no one can touch you.

The fourth day, you have to go out for groceries, and it hits you like a dash of cold water when you see Jooheon's face, something like a mugshot, plastered on the shop's glass.

Warning: Runaway Android

May Be Dangerous

There's a number beneath, and your feet can't carry you back home fast enough.

When you tell him he doesn't react other than that slight stiffening of his shoulders.

"I should turn myself in."

"No!" You protest. "What will they do?"

"Wipe me. Maybe decommission me."

"No," you whisper. "No, they can't. We can run away, go somewhere-"

Jooheon places his hands on your shoulders. "Somewhere androids are free? There's no such place, Y/n." He looks so somber, so determined, that panic rises in your throat.

"Not yet! We could run until the rights amendment gets passed��."

Jooheon is quiet for a moment, and then nods, kissing your forehead. "We can leave in the morning."

You blink, shocked at how quickly he changed his mind. You suppose even with learned emotions, androids were better at following logic than humans.

It's clearly the logical choice to run, to keep him safe, and you fall asleep in his arms with him holding you almost too tight.

In the morning, he's gone, and you don't stop crying for two days.

It's not even on the news, the runaway androids turning himself in, but when you finally return to work, the pictures of him have been taken down from the shop windows, and you don't know why it makes your breath catch in your throat.

It feels real, somehow, final, and you end up taking another three days off work after you see those windows bare.

It takes another month before you stop having mini panic attacks every time a sales android smiles at you, or a friend asks you to a movie.

You finally agree to go to a showing two towns over for a limited release film that your friend has been dying to go to, but you're listless on the drive there and up the steps.

"Nice to see you again," you hear, and all the rest of the sound goes out of the world. "Time?"

You look up and he smiles at you, and this time his dimples crack your heart straight through.

"Jooheon?" You whisper, and he tilts his head, and it's almost imperceptible, that stiffening of his shoulders, but it's there, and it fills your heart with hope.

"I….I think I dreamed about you," he says slowly, and your face breaks into a smile.

#ksmutclub #3k words #lee jooheon x reader #jooheon x reader #monsta x imagine #jooheon imagine #jooheon smut #monsta x smut

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