#just imagine how many times he went through that same scenario

[ibenology]

I wonder how many times this happened.

It always hits me just how calm Loki seems to be when Mobius grabs him here. Yes, he is stressed and dismissive, but still he lets Mobius grab his jacket and hold him and ask. He doesn’t pull away, he doesn’t flinch. He calmly stands there, almost leaning into it, and lets Mobius be scared and confused.

I wonder how many times it has happened before this. I wonder what Loki felt the first time he said “trust me” and Mobius said “no!” I wonder how many times it took for him to stop fighting it. I wonder if there was a time he let himself stay there for too long, feeling the grounding touch of Mobius’s desperate hands keeping him still, only this time, just for a moment, if he let himself rest there. I wonder if his heart broke a bit each time, but he couldn’t make himself change his choices, making it happen again, and again, and again, and again.

[urfavlarry]

Can I request a Tyler ( or Aiden but please Tyler) x reader fic? Reader has lived in the phantom realm for almost her entire life and because of that she is always sleepy and hungry since she doesn't get transported back like the others. But she is a great fighter. Fem or gn reader please and could you please write a scenario too? Thanks you and a you can ignore this if you like ❤

warnings: bad grammar, swearing, mentions of reader not eating, reader has some form of insomnia(??) gender neutral reader

A/N: I tried to make sure that this is gender neutral but if I made any mistakes then please correct me! Also I’m new to the fandom so if I got anything incorrect then again, don’t be afraid to correct me.

I hope I wrote everything the way you wanted and that you will request again some time<3

Tyler & Aiden (seperate) x gn!reader

——————————————

You’ve been stuck in this place for a while, ever since you were about 13. One day you were playing outisde in the yard, when you saw this strange creature. You being a naive child went towards it and tried talking to it. You weren’t really the type of child to be scared of everything and you thought it was just your imagination. When you when to confront it, you collapsed. After that you woke up in this strange place, an exact copy of the real world yet the sky was red and strange creatures started to appear everywhere. Your big brother would get into fights often, so he taught you some self defense so you managed to survive, quickly seeking shelter. At your age many kids would panic and probably wouldn’t survive, but you pulled through. Ever since then you kinda were afraid to sleep, scared that the creatures would somehow manage to get to you and hurt you. Same with food, you rarely went out to get food, only living off what people left in their houses, well at least the houses that weren’t infested with phantoms.

You and your parents would go out into the wilderness often, so you had necessary survival skills and had enough supplies for the first few weeks of being there. You learned to survive the phantom attacks and you have a pretty well built shelter. In the present time you met a group of people your age. You almost collapsed from how happy you were to finally have human interaction after so many dreadful years of being in this horrific place. They accepted you into the group, some being a bit skeptical at first but changed their mind once you told them your story.

You were a more skilled person in the group, taking the role as leader with a girl named Ashlyn. You moved your things from your shelter that wasn’t that far from the “graveyard” as they liked to call it. After a few hours you were done taking your things there and saw they weren’t there anymore. Your eyes widen and you start to panic; “Did they leave me?” “Was I just imagining it?” “Did they get hurt by the phantoms?” You run into one of the buses and see a note on one of the seats. It explained that they have a different experience in this realm. They go to this realm at midnight for 7 hours, then wake up in the human realm. You couldn’t help but envy them but you were glad nothing happened to them and that you weren’t imagining it.

——————————————

Tyler Hernández

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

To say that Tyler would literally turn into your second mother that would be an understatement.

He would constantly bring you food when he could and when he was in the living world he would make you some food before he went to school so you don’t starve while they are away. (things that are moved to a certian place in the living world appear in the “phantom realm”

You two would definitely start dating after some time but you would be the one making the first move lol

He would have some trust issues but once he warms up to you he’s cool

Taylor would definitely be happy that her twin brother is finally happy with someone (even if he can’t see them whenever he wants)

He would cuddle you in the bus and protect you with his life fr

He would be super caring and would scold you if you wouldn’t eat for a long period of time, the same with sleeping.

When you eat and get a normal amount of sleep you have a LOT of energy. Like it’s as if you drank 10 cups of coffee in on go!

definitely praises you!!

He would be jealous if you taught anyone other than him so give him some love right after!!

Admires you for sure like he’s looking at you with heart eyes and is the most love sick guy you will ever meet lmao even if he doesn’t look like it

Overall I believe he isn’t the MOST caring in the group but definitely one of the most caring :3

Everyone quickly started noticing your sluggish movements and the constant rumbling of your stomach. You always had dark eye bags under your eyes and you were exhausted all of the time. Tyler was the first one to notice and comment on it. You tried saying you were fine but he just didn’t buy it. “Come on I can tell you’re exhausted and clearly hungry, come we should have at least an apple for you to eat.” He says and drags you to the bus where they would keep these types of necessities. He mumbled some swears you couldn’t quite understand since it was in Spanish. He handed you the apple and rolled his eyes, acting like he doesn’t care. “After you eat that go and rest, I don’t want you to collapse tomorrow..” He says, looking away from you and sits down on one of the seats in the bus.

You nod and raise a brow at his strange behavior. He never really acted kind or caring towards anyone except his sister, but you didn’t mind the special treatment. You lay down on the seat, curling into a ball and close your eyes, falling asleep in almost an instant. It was a while since you’ve slept for a healthy amount of time. You usually wouldn’t sleep or only had a few minutes of sleep since the phantom noises kept you awake constantly.

You slept for quite a long time, even past the time the group would appear and wake up in the real world. The moment it hit midnight Tyler quickly checked up on you, hoping you wouldn’t be mad that he wasn’t there when you woke up, but when he went to look towards the seat you slept on you were still there, asleep. He was taken aback by this since you slept for literally the whole day! He shook you awake, wanting to make sure you didn’t die or something in your sleep. You woke up, grumbling as you glared at the person who woke you only to see Tyler with a concerned expression. “What?” “What do you mean what!? You slept for like 30 hours!” He says and looks at you as if you were some kind of psycho. “Oh I did?” You ask, stretching your aching body and sit up. “Jeez Y/N when was the last time you’ve slept? And I mean properly.” You chuckle at his reaction and explain how you’ve had trouble sleeping, since you heard the phantoms like Ashlyn, just not so intensely. You explain your situation a bit more to him, not wanting to just leave him without an explanation on why you were the way you were.

You explain and Tyler looks at you with a sympathetic but quickly rolls his eyes and flicks your forehead; “Whatever nerd, come it’s time for you to teach us fighting or whatever..” He rolls his eyes and exits the bus. You usually teach the group how to fight when they can’t practice with Ashlyns parents since.. her parents can’t go into the realm with them. Tyler was sitting on the side while you were teaching Aiden and he yelled “Yea babe beat his ass!” He whistles and claps, having a proud look on his face. He definitely admires your skill but is like “pfft of course she’s strong she’s MY girlfriend” but in private he praises the living hell put of you. He grabs you by the hand and pulls you away from the group who is now resting and catching their breath. He pulls you closer to him and cups your cheek; “You did great princesa I’m so proud of you.” He says and kisses you on the forehead. “Oh well what kind of teacher would I be if I wasn’t any good?” You tease and wrap your arms around his neck. “Stop flirting I can hear you both!” Ashly yells and you both pull away quickly and look at each other, bursting into fits of laughter.

Aiden Clark

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

He is a TEASE but like tbh he oblivious asf like bro doesn’t even notice for a good few months even after you start dating

He is really concerned once he finds out tho but still he doesn’t take it THAT seriously but still cares!!

He fr is terrified of you when you have energy tho cuz likeee your really strong

Aiden had seen you fr collapse somewhere from exhaustion and get back up like a few seconds later, beating the phantoms like it was nothing

He is super sad that he can’t see you in the normal world and tries to spend as much time with you as possible

Teases you if your stomach grumbles lmfao he finds that shit hilarious (runs away 2 seconds after he teases you)

Definitely brings you food, even if it’s not the most healthy but if you have a particular food you like expect to get it like at least twice a week

Overall is pretty chill but still caring<3

Aiden didn’t really notice at first, his mind wandering else where like usual or would tease and flirt with you. He only started noticing when you started dozing off in the most inconvenient places like when you were on a mission with the group and they just found you collapsed on the floor, only waking when you heard a phantom and kicked its ass! He was amazed but a little bit concerned but didn’t really show it, teasing you without an end. Once you got back to the graveyard he pulled you away from the rest of the group, finding Ashlyns rambling anout the next plan boring. He leads you to one of the buses and sits down, his back against the window and lays you down on top of him, your head resting on his chest. “What are you—” He silences you with a quick kiss on the lips and smiles, his usual manic like smile no where to be seen, only a genuine soft smile. “Rest, you need it. I can’t promise I will be here when you wake up but just rest, ‘kay? You’re safe.” He hugs you closer and your heart skips a beat. You smile and make yourself comfortable, falling asleep in the blink of an eye.

Aiden layed there with you, rubbing your back and playing with your hair. He grew bored after a while, typical Aiden but he let his mind wander, keeping himself occupied by thinking of random things and unconsciously braiding pieces of your hair. He only snapped out of it when he heard a quite loud rumbling. He lifted his arms off you and looked down at you with wide eyes, his manic like smile reappearing. He chuckled, he would definitely tease you about that later.

After a while he awoke in the real world, he texted the rest of the group in the group chat and smiled mischievously. Once midnight hit, you were awoken by noises coming from outside the bus. You quickly sat up, but calm down once you see a smiling Aiden looking down at you. You sigh, relieved it wasn’t phantoms when the door to the bus suddenly opened. You stood up and saw the group holding different kids of food you haven’t eaten in years! You look at the food like a kid seeing a toy they want and look at Aiden who smiled at you. “Surprise.” He says and the rest of the group places the food down on the floor, everyone sitting down and dig in. You sit down and eat a good amount of food yourself, eating to your hearts content. Everyone watches in awe at how much you ate but they were happy, especially Aiden that they could do this for you.

After everyone finished eating you helped cleaning up, Aiden approaching you and hugging you from behind; “Enjoyed the food, love?” He says and kisses your jaw, then cheek. “Yeah, a lot. How did you come up with this?” He smirks and rests his chin on your shouler; “Oh, I heard a little noise~” He puts one arm on your stomach and chuckles; “And I thought you would be thrilled with this surprise!” Your face turns red and you turn around and smack his head, grumbling and storming away.

[tossawary]

Something I found surprising when revisiting the prequel trilogy is how much the clones aren't full characters in the movies. They're props. They're devices. The films give them the same weight and attention as they give the Separatist droids, really. The only two clone troopers I can easily name off the top of my head who get "named" in any way are Oddball and Cody, who are both just barely in "Revenge of the Sith", and interchangeable in their roles with any other background clone.

It's interesting when held up against "The Clone Wars" and other extension material, which had the time and inclination to say more directly, "Hey, these are people and what's happening to them is wrong." Like, obviously what's happening in Ep2&3 is wrong, the audience can draw that conclusion on their own, growing people as cannon fodder is a clear part of the greater tragedy if you take about five seconds to think about the situation here. Even without the element of the entire war being constructed and controlled by the main villain, the clones are a tragedy.

But, oh man, the movies themselves don't really care to focus on that. It's SUCH a background element. I had a "oh, yeah, Order 66 being programmed into a control chip was a later addition to / clarification of canon" moment while watching, because as far as Ep3 actually shows us (as was the initial intention by some, I know), Cody apparently knew the entire time that he might be called to fire on Obi-Wan Kenobi and was just waiting on the call. The "homogenous evil army" trope is... very much present and even more identical than usual here.

By the films alone, you can easily assume that the clone troopers have no love for any of the Jedi (whom we're meant to believe are relatively decent people) for a variety of reasons. Their upbringing and training on Kamino was presumably cold and brutal. They're (possibly enslaved) soldiers in an even more brutal war. This army is offered no development or individuality that makes the appalling Jedi Temple massacre out of character for any of them.

But when the various Clone Wars shows first turned the clones into individual characters and even protagonists, many of whom are shown to be good people and become friendly with the Jedi through years of teamwork in life-or-death situations, Order 66 became weird. "Wait, why would the majority of clones (all the clones we see in the movies, at least) just go along with this? What went wrong here?"

I get why TCW and SW canon settled on the control chips option and I find it interesting enough. The tragedy of it all makes me want to lie facedown on the floor. Darth Sidious is really winning at sheer evilness here.

On the other hand, there are some really fun and interesting "Order 66 was taught, not programmed" AUs to revisit here. Especially when some of the other (Legends canon now) contingency orders include what to do if the Supreme Chancellor is incapacitated or declared unfit, or even getting rid of the Supreme Chancellor and assuming control by lethal force if necessary. Presumably these orders existed as a back-up in case Palpatine wasn't elected to the seat in time for the war or didn't manage to get rid of term limits and was replaced as Chancellor at any point.

That really sounds like Palpatine's evil army of ruthless Jedi-Killers (unchipped) could have easily backfired on him if they'd ever decided all of these non-clones were unfit and organized to take power for themselves. I love any scenario where Palpatine's arrogant and overly complicated plans get him in trouble. The "homogenous evil army" often gets treated as a mindless mob, but while the clones may have some degree of emotional suppression, they're clearly very capable and not unintelligent, and they're not given many (if any) reasons to be loyal to the Republic. And it is FUNNY to imagine any Dark Lord's created army deciding that he fucking sucks at war (there's obviously a leak, why the FUCK are they losing so much ground to fucking droids) and they're overthrowing him for better benefits, so that they can create and run a more efficient Evil Empire themselves.

You could make this angsty as hell or a comedy, or both. I'm imagining the clones at the eleventh hour murdering Chancellor Palpatine with such brutal efficiency that it feels like its own kind of prejudice. And he gets revealed as a Sith Lord in the process (this was taken into account as a potential problem when planning the assassination), so there's an initial moment of: "I can't believe it! He was the Sith Lord in the Senate all along! How did you know?"

Cody: "Didn't."

Obi-Wan: "...Pardon?"

Cody: "This is a coup, sir."

Like, if we're going by what's shown in the movies alone, there's a clear Emperor Cody AU to be had here. Which can be played as a temporary (years long) measure to reinstall a Republic with proper checks and balances, while a bemused Jedi Order and Senate are held hostage, or the First Galactic Empire is established as per canon just with the clones running it and reaping the benefits. I'm currently enjoying thinking about the latter scenario as a dark comedy, in which Future Emperor Cody (or the clone of your choice) has to negotiate in his spare time with the various demands of his fellow clones. (Who are, let us remember due to the horror that is the accelerated aging, a bunch of teenagers at the oldest here.)

Rex: "I want Tatooine."

Cody: "The whole planet?"

Rex: "Yeah."

Cody: "It's a shithole."

Rex: "Yeah, but it'll make Skywalker so kriffing mad, so I'm calling dibs."

Cody: "Noted."

And if you want to write shipfic, there's always the AU of various Evil Army Clones meeting their love interest and then going, "Not evil anymore! Sorry, guys." Which could be angsty or another dark-ish comedy.

Cody @ the clone commander group chat: "WE'RE NOT GIVING UP ON THE 3-YEAR IMPERIAL COUP PLAN JUST BECAUSE YOU HORNY ASSHOLES WANT TO FUCK JEDI!!! STOP TALKING ABOUT THE POWER OF LOVE!!! STOP IT!!!"

[pascalssbabyy]

The Slip Up, Part Two

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Virgin!Reader

Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI

Word Count: 6.9k

Summary: The secrets out and Javier finally knows, but what you hadn’t expected was him to react the way he did. Two months had gone by since then, and you’re finally ready for Javier to take your virginity.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT mdni, age gap (25/40), both readers and Javiers POV, Javier is unbelievably soft in this, innocent reader, Javier talks you through it, blowjob, fingering, P in V, protected sex, virginity loss, Javier talks you through it, mentions of past f!oral, couch shenanigans, feelings (my gosh there’s so many feelings.)

Here we go! First off, thank you all for being so patient with me. I hope this lives up to people’s expectations and that you weren’t waiting too long! Please let me know what you all thought and I hope you love it!💕 Part 1

Also, huge shoutout to the lovely @schnarfer for reading through this for me and helping me with the final product! So thankful for you!🤍

To the lovelies who wanted to be tagged: @easystreet07 @softstarlite @joelscurlss

The past few months felt like a dream. A dream so vivid in picture and totally immersive. So sharp and in perfect vision. It was a dream you never wanted to wake up from.

Many times you had to remind yourself that the joy you noticed hadn’t been just a figment of your imagination. It wasn’t a fantasy or notions that you wished on. But that it was all real. No, he was real.

You were happy. This being the happiest you’d been in a long time. You could recognise a change in yourself immediately. You felt brighter in the early mornings, there were no thoughts that plagued you or interruptions while you slept, and when you would peer at yourself in the mirror your skin was glowing. A radiant glimmer and dimples deeply imprinted in your cheeks from the constant smiling.

Work was better and shifts weren’t as stressful. The crime in Columbia was at its lowest and the atmosphere around the office was smooth sailing. You had become more at ease with your tasks, but still remained vigilant in your role. There was no more overworking or giving yourself no time for the activities you enjoyed or missed doing. Instead, you concentrated on the things that made you feel better about life away from home.

And Javier Peña was a big factor in all this.

Two months. Two unimaginable months had gone by since that heated moment you and Javier shared in the filing room. You remember the nervousness when he looked at you, that rush of honesty leaving your lungs in apprehension, your heart pouring out into his open palms.

You waited with bated breath. Waited for the rejection that would crush you into nothingness and embarrassment. You had prepared for it. You’d gone through countless scenarios of how Javier would decline your affection. And as difficult as it was to admit, it was all your fault. You had taken things too far. An infatuation with desire and want for him had become so out of reach, and the jealousy was hard to disregard.

But to your surprise his refusal never came. Not one ounce of rejection appeared on his face. And fuck, what a beautiful face he had. Instead, he admired as you stood fearfully, his posture open and understanding.

On that day, he’d shared something else entirely.

You’d never forget that unforeseen consequence. Javier Peña, kissing you and on his knees, his warm, brown eyes firmly locked on yours and giving you the most intense and intimate orgasm of your life.

With buckled knees your body went rigid, electricity rippled through your veins and blinding specks of white obscured the sight of his face deep in your core. Javier’s mouth, fingers and reassurance had unveiled more than anything you ever envisioned.

Leaving that room with his touch gnawing at your skin, you realised that your relationship with Javier Peña would never be the same. No more wishful thinking or privately scanning him from afar. No, this time he yearned for your gaze, your bottom perched at your desk, the end of a pen skimming across your lips, staring at his mouth that had been on yours just moments ago. Now, you were the only one to know the distinct flavour of his tongue, that hint of bourbon and cigarettes being your new favourite addition. This wasn’t going to be a one-time occurrence. This was to become a pattern in your lives, a state of events what would leave to something greater.

It was just the two of you. Hidden glances and lingered touches kept secret as you walked past one another in the hallway, tinted and purplish bruises in the shape of his lips disguised under nude concealer on your neck or collarbone, creased clothing from being ruffled up and gripped when you’d both get an opportunity to be alone.

You finally had that glimpse of him, and fuck it was hard to go without.

Javier would have you at every given possibility. Whether it was late at night back in his office or once again, in the filing room, or when he’d sneak you into the bathroom when the both of you were on your breaks. Javier had pulled orgasm after orgasm from you, and you’d never get enough.

The drop of your skirt and underwear on carpet and tiled floors had become a routine, bare legs dangling over the edge of his desk, his lips hungry and feverish and colliding against your own, his large hands gripping the flesh of your inner thighs. He’d make you come with his mouth, lips sucking hard on your clit and fingers shoved deep into your walls as you’d reach your peak, cunt reaching its high all over his mouth, chin and fingers, his tongue lapping up every single drop.

It was all still so new, but it was beyond compelling. You wanted more. You were so desperate for more.

But with Javier, you had to learn to be patient, attention drifting back to the first time, his words being that constant reminder.

‘I’ll give it to you baby,’ he had promised, his face level with your own, ‘but not right now. Let me do this right, okay? Let me take my time with you.’

And that’s how it went. His warm mouth would trail over and across your naked legs, his moustache saturated with your release as it tickled your skin. You’d yank him up off his knees eventually with urgent hands, his lips puffy and eyes hazy and drunk, his body clearly aroused.

You’d peer down at the clear and evident bulge in his jeans, the denim so tight and restricting, fingers attempting to pull at his belt until…his own would stop you.

Not right now cariño. Next time.

You’d scream his name into the back of your hand, teeth marks indented into your skin, his tongue luring an orgasm from you as you’d muffle your praise in hopes of keeping quiet, to not get caught by friends or work colleagues.

You’d kiss him with intensity, cupping his hard cock and palming him with compressed pressure, his grunts landing on the surface of your tongue.

Not yet bebe, let’s wait a little longer.

Your mouths would find a lustful pace, arms wrapped around his neck and hips thrusting up into his erection.

So impatient. Don’t worry, you’ll have my cock soon.

Soon. It always ended with soon. But when would ‘soon’ be? The anticipation was growing in the pit of your stomach and so overwhelming you couldn’t keep up. You were ready, and that statement you knew to be true, and you couldn’t wait for Javier to take things to the next step.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Javier knew the moment you stepped into his office that very first time you’d be trouble.

He wasn’t too pleased with the idea of his boss offering him a secretary. Javier was very skilled at his job, and he was known around the DEA as one of the top agents in the Embassy. He didn’t need a secretary, someone who would slow him down, pulling his focus away from tasks and a simple distraction. However, Javier knew whatever excuse he’d pull out of the book to oppose, nothing would change the matter. Only to be told that it was ‘to take the smaller jobs off his back.’

It was bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit.

But what Javier didn’t expect was his secretary to be…well, you. Javier had been told before your arrival that you were more than capable in the role and had been doing so back in the US for a couple of years. Except, not one person had told him what you looked like, and it completely surprised him once he took a first glance at you.

You were young, your features delicate and big eyes that beamed with enthusiasm. Javiers first question was why you would involve yourself in a job with so much risk? But then, being so young and accepting a proposition as high as this, surely you must be good?

Javier couldn’t help but admire you. You looked so shy, body language held back and reserved and apprehensive. He couldn’t help his jeans tighten when you introduced yourself, your words quiet and innocent.

“Thank you, sir,” you’d mustered up. “I’m excited to be working alongside you.”

Javier had a certain reputation around the Embassy. Having his ways of getting the right women to talk, needing detailed information fast and efficiently. He never sought the approval of people he worked with, because he was well aware that they judged. Plus, he got a no-feelings-fuck out of it, so why should he be bothered about what they thought?

Javier had come close to you throughout your time at the Embassy, developing a firm and loyal friendship that deep down, Javier hadn’t had in a long time. From the first introduction, Javier did his best to welcome you to Bogotá with the same support he was given years ago, and he could see that you appreciated his hospitality massively.

But of course, being Javier, he had thought about you in ways a friend shouldn’t be thinking about another friend. And yet, how the fuck could he not? You were beautiful, a flicker of luminance in his ordinary life. Javier liked being around you, your presence emitting that emotion of being back home, it was familiar.

Javier could be his normal self with you.

Javier didn’t know that the shyness you possessed was hidden feelings. It’s not his fault of course, but it makes his chest ache with shame. The amount of times he’d clearly come into work after a night with a woman, the smell of their cheap perfume still lingering on his clothes, or being at the bar with you and walking away from the crowd with another under his arm. He fucking hates knowing how hard it must have been for you to see that, now knowing your feelings.

He questions your decision to stay quiet. Why didn’t you say anything? Or give him any indication as to what you truly wanted from him? Javier had no idea, and it hurts him knowing that you kept it secret from him for so long.

When you confessed your affection for him at the work party, that’s when Javier knew. The moment he heard those words out loud, he’d be delving into a fantasy that in the back of his mind, he truthfully longed for.

‘Well maybe it’s because I like you Javier. That every single time I look at you I wish you looked at me the same way. And even though I’ll never have you, it doesn’t stop me from wanting you as badly as I do right now.’

You avoided him the next day. Calls going straight to answer phone, feet skipping away when he was near, your apartment door glued shut when he’d irritably knock, praying that he’d finally see your face on the other end. You were embarrassed and ashamed of confessing it to him, and worse that it was helped with liquid courage. Javier made it his aim to get you to talk, to ease the tension that grew between you both.

He stares at you from his desk, fiddling with his unlit cigarette that hangs from his lips, his foot banging against the hard floor. Your head hangs low, the piles of paper he’d stacked on your desk held flushed to your chest, making your way into the filing room.

Fucking finally, Javier thinks.

He’s marching towards you before his mind can even comprehend it.

He listens to you talk, words shaky and jumbled and limbs quivering. He hears about how you expected him to reject you, and that he’d never be interested in a woman like you. Javier wasn’t a good man, and he wasn’t good enough for you.

You deserved better.

But when you stood there, telling him how highly you thought of him, that’s all he needed to break.

Your lips felt soft against his own, needy whimpers mixed in with his deprived grunts, pushing your back up against the shelf. How the fuck did it come to this? Suddenly, he can’t help it when his knees drop and hit the floor, or his hands pulling your skirt up. He can’t stop the tip of his tongue from moving closer to taste your sex, eating you out like a man starved until you’d come on his mouth.

And when you’d told him you were a virgin. He could’ve come in his pants right there and then. You’d never had anyone’s mouth on you, never had anyone’s fingers inside you other than your own, and when he’d made you orgasm for the first time, he’d promised himself he’d take his time with you.

All of that happened a couple months ago. And at every given chance, Javier needed to have your cunt on his mouth and fingers. Whether it was in his office late at night or back in the filing room, in the bathroom or even back at his apartment, he had to have you.

He never pushed you, never overwhelmingly you with stress as he knew you weren’t fully ready. He remembers his own words, I wanna take my time with you. And that’s exactly what Javier was going to do.

For Javier this wasn’t just lust or quick hookups when you both could get your hands on one another. No, he wouldn’t do that to you, this was much deeper.

And it fucking terrified him.

He wanted you, and he knew you wanted him just as much, hands dragging his zipper down to try and free his cock, limbs inching lower so you could sit on your knees, palms rubbing his length that was tight in his jeans.

Javier was hooked, you were a crave he had to soothe. When he would lie in bed, he’d still smell your body on his skin, even when he would furiously try to scrub it off in the shower. He fucked his fists every time he finished work, the taste of your arousal still on his tongue and moustache. He’d come in his hand so helplessly, envisioning you behind his eyelids, imagining the way he’d fuck himself inside your mouth and your pussy, covering your neck and breasts in his mark.

Javier was restless, and he was running out of patience with himself. He needed to have you, he’d go crazy if he had wait any longer.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Those two months of persistent seduction and lingering touches had led to now. All of the built up and pressure between the two of you falling into place, and with a firm grip and hurried movements, Javier ushers your body inside his apartment, his lips cemented on your own, breathless whimpers willingly pouring out of your mouth.

Your feet are forced backwards by his eager strides, and when the back of your thighs hit his sofa, your hands grasp onto his leather jacket.

“Javi…,” you moan, stealing more kisses with every word, “I want you now. Please, fuck me.”

Javiers groan is guttural, low within his throat and it causes your skin to shiver. He likes you like this, so desperate for something you’ve never indulged in, his cock thickens as he rubs against you.

Javier’s mind clouds with dizziness, his hold tender. He can’t seem to fathom that out of all people, he was the one you wanted. And soon, he was going to be the one to watch your eyes widen in surprise as your walls stretched around his length, slowly easing his cock further into you for the first time, waiting for the immediate pinch you’d feel from him, your walls welcoming something new, something euphoric.

“You sure hermosa?” he questions, his voice pained. Javier wants this as much as you do, but he asks you anyway, needing to make sure that you’re certain. “S’that what you want? You don’t wanna wait a little longer?”

You give him a smile. A smile that holds truth and a stare full of confidence and sureness. You’re tired of waiting. “Yes,” you breathe out, “yes, I’m sure. Please don’t make me to wait anymore.”

A devilish smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Come here cariño,” he assists, holding you closer and moving you to the front of the sofa, resting you down and lying his body on top of yours.

“I’ll go slow,” he promises, lips kissing the permanent blush on your cheeks, “you won’t have to worry about a thing. You just tell me how you wanna do this.”

He makes your heart flutter. You trusted Javier, more than anyone you’d ever known and here he was, being so honest and gentle with you.

There’s no one else you’d want to share this moment with.

He holds his frame light above you, almost feather like, both his palms lying flat at the sides of your head. You can feel a radiation of heat steaming off his body, and you want it closer.

You lift your mouth and kiss him, his tongue licking the insides of your mouth. His hands move down your body, knees digging into the mattress to keep himself steady.

This time wasn’t like the previous times you and Javier had shared. This time, Javier is taking a moderate and balanced pace to explore you and your body. He understands where you like to be touch and kissed, those spots that would have you calling out his name, his fingers gliding places he knew were sensitive.

“Can I see you querida?” he politely asks and you’re quick to oblige his request. He removes your top, hauling the material up and throwing it onto the floor, leaving you in a white bra. It’s nothing sexy, as you hadn’t expected to be here with him right now, but by the way Javier eyes you with a hungry gaze, he may be thinking something else completely.

You’re nervous, and it’s an emotion that’s difficult to disguise. Yes, Javier had seen most of you, but throughout everything he hadn’t removed any item of clothing above your waist. You were yet to fully show yourself to Javier, and it causes your anxiousness to pump loudly against your rib cage, ready to break through the fragile bone. It’s simply deafening.

His fingers follow your bra strap, arms wrapping under as you lift your back up, arching it off the sofa whilst he unhooks the clasp, fiddling with it for a couple seconds until finally, it comes loose.

Javiers eyes wonder down, his stare burning hot into your skin as he looks at your bare chest. Your nipples are already hard, caused by the cold air and the darkness of his pupils.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he says, knees moving down the sofa and bringing his mouth to your breasts. He swirls his tongue around your sensitive nub, flicking and pinching you with his lips and teeth. The gasp you release is high pitched, his tongue warm and sticky on your skin causing your eyes to roll back, fingers pulling on his hair and keeping his mouth locked in place.

Javier breaths heavily against you, his grunts wavering and your chest damp and fiery, sparkling that match inside your core.

Rutting your hips into his growing erection you plead out his name, the roughness of his jeans catching on your clothed clit.

You’re so close already, the friction on your pulsing core and Javier’s mouth leading you closer to lightening-like bliss. You need to feel his cock, squeezing your hand underneath his body and cupping him, his forehead resting on your shoulder, mewling at the touch.

“Please, Javi,” you beg, fingers clutching onto his hard erection, “I want you.”

His lips that were latched on your nipple leave his mouth with a light ‘pop’, his tongue poking out to lick his pinkish lips.

“What is it mi amor? Tell me, what is it you want exactly?”

Your gaze lowers to his jeans, realising how constricted they look. Unintentionally, your own mouth fills with saliva, a daring need to feel him on your tongue.

“I…I wanna make you feel good.”

“You are bebe,” he consoles, “you are. Just look at you, lying here looking all pretty for me.”

“Javier please,” you flush and tone hesitant, “it’s just…I—I wanna feel you in my mouth.”

A breath hitches in Javiers throat, your words hitting him right in his gut like a harsh punch and winding him. His cock pulsates and twitches in his boxers.

“Yeah?” he questions, “s’that right? You wanna suck my cock bebita?”

You pause. “I do,” you confess, forcing him back by his chest so he’s put in a seating position, his feet flat on the floor.

Moving yourself, you rest your knees on the carpet below, hands yanking at his belt buckle and loops, unbuttoning his jeans along with pulling down his zipper. The outline of his head is visible through his boxers and your voice stops halfway up your throat. He’s clearly hard and he looks thick, the grey colour of his boxers now a darker shade from the pre-come that drips from his tip, the spot glistening in the sheer light covering his apartment.

You’ve wanted to do this for him for so long. He deserves this. But what happens if you’re not good at it? Or worse, what happens if he doesn’t like it? This is a newly discovered experience, and you didn’t want to fuck it up.

You can’t recall the seconds that have passed, eyes just staring at him and his cock. Javier’s tone breaks through the anxiety.

“You don’t have to do this hermosa,” he says, the words soothing and thumb faintly stroking your hands, “y’remember what I said? That first time in the filing room?”

Of course you remember, how could you ever forget?

“So, you know this is all for you,” Javier states, “I wanna make you feel good, make sure you feel comfortable.”

“I know Javi,” you say, heart thumping at his kindness. And that’s why your fingers don’t stop, hands still tugging at the waistband of his boxers.

“I wanna do this. It’s just…I wanna make it pleasurable for you.”

“It will be querida, I promise,” Javier replies, smirking at your innocence, that fucking smirk of his. “Don’t you go shy on me. Go on, start off by taking these off.”

Fuck.

Javier lifts his hips up to help you, and with your digits hooked under his boxers, you drag them down his sun-kissed thighs.

His erection lands on his stomach, the tip of his cock a swollen red and wet. His pre-come covers the sides of his length and rests pretty on his tummy.

Your eyes bulge at the sight. Holy shit. He’s bigger than you had anticipated, veins travelling up the sides and the base of him covered in thick, dark, curly hair. Your pussy clenches around nothing, a heavy weight pooling on the surface of your tongue, you lick your lips.

Javier snarls, “Now look at that pretty girl,” he teases, sliding his thumb across your parted mouth. “Already so desperate to have my cock fill your mouth, aren’t you.”

“Yes…,” the confession plummeting out of you, “Javi, tell me what—“

“I will hermosa,” he kindly interrupts before your apprehension gets the better of you. “Don’t be so nervous, do just what I say, okay? M’here to help you.”

You needed that, a gulp of thickened air you swallowed and had been holding onto was suddenly being released from your lungs, less suffocating.

Your hands dance at the top of his thighs, fingers inching closer to the coarse hairs that scattered his pubic region. You stop, movements still, waiting for his instructions.

“Take me in your hands cariño,” he teaches, his palms resting flat on the sofa either side of him, “just lick the tip for now, get me nice and wet.”

You take him in your hand, like he asked, your tongue poking out of your mouth and moving closer, hovering over his tip. Cautiously, you lick the slit, collecting the salty liquid. It surprises you, but you quite like the taste. That saltiness mixed with Javiers own flavour. It makes you want more, and this time you eagerly swirl your tongue around the head, adding more pressure as you do so.

“M’fuck,” Javier groans, his head dropping back onto the sofa, fingers finding a place on your scalp, threading his digits through your hair, “that’s it honey, keep doing just that.”

Your tongue was so hesitant at first, doe eyes beaming up at his features. With each lick you reverse every furrowed brow, the pull of his bottom lip and the grunts that slip from his mouth. He moans out loud at a certain swipe of your tongue across his seam, so you repeat the motion, over and over and over again.

“You look so pretty bebe,” he grunts, “fuckin’ made to suck my cock weren’t you. Keep kissing it hermosa, feels real nice.”

Javiers praises make you bold, circling your tongue round more confidently and dropping your mouth on him, the whole head of his cock filling the inside of your mouth.

You do that for a while, hand kept still as you hold him at the base, your tongue doing all the work.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” Javier murmurs, “you can—shit, you can take more of me in your mouth, if you’re comfortable.”

Just as you’re about to lower your mouth, Javier cups your cheek, his voice breaking, “remember to breathe through your nose bella, it’ll relax your throat. And don’t take more than you can’t handle okay? You can use your hand to help.”

You inch his cock further into your mouth, remembering to slowly inhale and exhale through your nose to ease your throat. His length glides through your mouth and you hollow your cheeks around him, using your hand with the rest of his cock you can’t fit inside.

With each rise and fall of your lips you take more of him, sliding his length further down your throat, but not so far that it’ll cause you to gag. The filthy sound of your slurping spreads through his apartment. It becomes smutty and loud and Javier sighs above you, his hold on your head now much firmer and you moan around his length.

You peer up at him and he looks wrecked. His own mouth is parted, his forehead covered in a glittery sheen of sweat, his chest rising and stomach tight. Your heart fills with pride, you love how your mouth’s pulling him into that state of pleasure.

The vibrations around Javier’s cock causes him to subconsciously buck his hips up, the tip of his cock instantaneously hitting the back of your throat and causing you gag and cough around him.

His eyes widen in shock, “fuck hermosa—,” Javier yelps, hands pulling you back as his cock leaves your mouth in a crude gasp. A line of saliva trails from his tip to your bottom lip, his whole length saturated and drenched, and Javier could come just from that sight alone.

“Shit, you okay cariño?”

You can’t help but cough and your eyes start to tear up, an overcast of blurred vision.

“Yes Javi,” you cough out, your voice laboured. “You didn’t hurt me, I’m okay.”

You gaze at his cock, lying damp and stiff in the palm your hand. You enjoyed having him in your mouth, and by the way you can feel your wetness seep through your underwear, it’s clearly evident.

“I really liked doing that,” you blurt out.

“Yeah?” Javier chuckles, “that’s good cariño. You did so well, felt fucking incredible.”

You’d blush if your cheeks weren’t already red. You wipe the remains of your saliva off your chin with the back of your palm.

“That’s enough for now, cosa linda,” Javier says, “come ‘ere.”

His lips are back on yours, shocked that he doesn’t seem bothered that you’d just had your mouth on him. His kisses move across your face, nipping at your ear and moving lower to your neck. Your eyes flutter shut and you allow him more access, fingers clinging onto the back of his jacket.

“Fuck I can’t wait to be inside this pussy bella,” he confesses, sucking and biting your skin, “thought about this for so long. You have no idea how many times I’ve fucked my hand thinking it was your pussy wrapped around me.”

Fuck you want him right now. “I need it Javi. Need you. Please, take me to bed.”

He’s quick to lift you up into your wobbly legs, shifting his arm under your knees and carrying you up to his bedroom.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Javier’s on his knees and your calves touch the end of his bed, hands resting atop his shoulders to keep you upright. His hands slide up your legs, fingers fiddling with the button and zipper on your trousers, his digits tugging until the material pools at your ankles.

He helps you remove them without hurry, his stare fixed in your face as you watch his with a hooded gaze, lustful.

There’s no worries or no interruptions, just a small, compact space full of admiration.

His moustache drifts over your skin and tickles your bare thighs, goosebumps rising with each swipe of his lips. He kisses your hipbone, his mouth a distraction as his fingers slide your underwear down.

“So fucking beautiful like this hermosa,” he says truthfully, a clear devotion heard in his words.

“Go and lie down for me, get comfortable mi amor.”

Your back lands onto his neatly made covers. Your spine shivers from the coldness, his quilt soft and swallowing you further into the mattress.

You’ve never entered Javiers bedroom before. His room’s barely lit, the blinds wide and keeping the sun out that’s just about to set. The walls are painted with a dark cream colour and his decor is minimalistic. A wardrobe in the corner, a desk, a small bedside table sitting next to his double bed. You like it, it seems well known and cosy, it matches Javier perfectly.

You lie on full display, body exposed and frozen with suspense. “Javi,” you whisper, his name coming out velvety and sweet, limbs reaching out to him.

“I know cariño, I know,” he hushes, removing the rest of his clothes, his thick muscles tensing in his arms once he unbuttons his white shirt.

“Fuck,” the word comes out before you can even register what you’ve just said. You think Javier must have heard it too, but your mind’s too busy in appreciating his physique to care.

He’s so beautiful.

You clench your thighs together. You already know that you’re soaked for him, your pussy wet and folds messy and dripping onto the cover below.

“You want me to fuck this pussy princesa?” he teases you, hand fisting his hard cock and giving it a few tugs, “you gonna tell me how bad you’ve wanted this?”

You moan, the view in front overwhelming. Your chest lifts and falls, back arching off the mattress and eager for his touch, “I do Javi. Want you so bad.”

He crawls up to you on his hands and knees, his cock hanging hard and long in between his legs. He looks down at your form and parts your legs with both hands, nestling his body on top of you. You can feel his length on the inside of your thighs.

He brushes your hair off your face with the gentlest of touches, moving the strands behind your ears.

“You really are something querida, delicioso.”

His mouths latches on your breasts again, licking his tongue around the flesh and sucking your nipple. You whine at the sensation, your breasts already sensitive to his mouth and hands.

“Fuck, Javi,” You sigh, “that feels…”

“Tell me,” He ushers, his big, brown eyes looking up at you as he continues his assault.

“Good. So fucking good,” you moan.

His hands follow a path and meet their place in between your legs, fingers parting and rubbing your wetness through your folds.

You gasp, hand wrapping around his wrists, “please. Javi, I don’t—“

“What is it hermosa?” he asks, stopping his motions, “what don’t you want? I thought—”

“—No Javi, it’s not that. I’m—I’m ready please,” you babble out impatiently, “just…I want you inside me.”

“Necesitada,” Javier snickers, “I gotta prepare you cariño. Let me open you up first, gonna make sure you’re ready for me. Promise you’ll have me soon.”

Taking two of his fingers, Javier pushes them past your opening, scissoring and curving them upwards in a ‘come hither’ motion. You cry at the feeling, your walls making room and preparing for his size.

“So warm on my fingers bebe,” he seduces, “and so fucking wet. Gonna glide so easily in your pussy mi amor. You think you’re ready for me?”

With your breathing erratic, you nod at him, “yes, Javi, please.”

He removes his fingers from you, shifting his weight and pulling the drawer out on his bedside table and reaching for a pack of condoms. You gaze at him as his fingers slide it onto his length, and when it’s done and secure, he leans back over you.

He kisses you, the weight of him sweltering. He presses his chest up to yours and rests on his forearm, his other hand grips his cock and rubs it through your folds.

You pant against his mouth avidly, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance and smearing against your clit, your pussy fluttering as you wait.

Fuck, this is it.

“I’ll go slow,” he promises, his tone quiet, “anytime you feel uncomfortable, I want you to say, okay? Need you to talk to me while I do this.”

Gently, he prods his tip at your opening, eyes averted to your face as he slowly and carefully eases his tip inside you, his hand rubbing tender circles on your hip.

You show no sign of discomfort. “Alright? I’m gonna push—“

“Fuck Javi, please. Please just do it.”

“A needy little thing aren’t you querida,” Javier grins, pressing more of his length deeper inside your walls. He grits his teeth hard, forehead nesting in the crevice of your neck.

“Shit sweetheart—,” he winces, his eyebrows furrowing in, “fuck you’re so goddamn tight.”

Aiming to slow your breathing, you open your legs wider as you feel his girth stretch you open, his groin moving forward. It hurts there is no denying it, it’s an unpleasant sting, but not so painful that you’d tell him to stop.

Your eyes clamp shut, fingernails digging into his shoulder as you hiss, feeling a burn in the centre of your core.

“Hermosa,” Javier murmurs, keeping himself still, “open your eyes. Keep them on me bebita. Y’want me to stop?”

“No Javi, don’t.” You really don’t want him to stop. “I’m fine, jus’…please, kiss me.”

He kisses you tenderly, humming into your mouth. With every part of him sliding inside you, your body starts to relax, and that initial prick gradually eases away. It still rather uncomfortable, but you know once he begins to move, it’ll get better.

Once he fully sheaths himself to the brim, he halts his movements, giving you time to adjust to him.

“There you go,” Javier worships, his words slow and dragged out. “The worst parts over now bebe. Y’doing so well. That’s it, relajarse.”

You both breathe in-sync, his breath easing your muscles and calming.

His legs shudder, a crinkled line indented in between his brows. Every inch of willpower is forcing him not to thrust up into you and fuck you hard, but he can’t do that to you, knowing that he’s already difficult to accommodate to.

Your next words are a fucking blessing.

“You can move Javi, please move.”

Javier draws his hips back and pushes forward. There’s a sudden emptiness you feel, until he thrusts his whole length into you again. You whimper out to him, his mouth hanging over yours as he grunts into your open mouth.

You can’t describe the way it feels, the way he feels. He’s so deep, he cock makes you core hot and butterflies flitter in your lower stomach.

“Fuck, talk to me querida,” Javier pleads breathlessly, “tell me how you’re feeling.”

Javiers thrusts are long but slow, and with each push the pleasure expands and courses through you. “Feels good now javi,” you breathe out, “it feels— fuck!“

Javier hand had curved under your ass and lifted it off the bed, the new angle causing the tip of his cock to hit your g-spot. You immediately wrap your legs around his lower back, keeping him as close as possible.

He laughs, adoring your reaction, “yeah? Right there?” he asks as he hurries his pace and you shout, his cock bringing your orgasm round fast.

“Yes, fuck r-right there,” you weep. “Oh my god Ja-avi.”

“Shit this pussy feels so fucking good,” he moans loudly, his tongue licking up your chin and sucking on your bottom lip.

“You’re mine now princesa,” he claims, “no one gets to feel this pussy apart from me.”

He picks up even more speed, fucking into your cunt hard and fast. He grips your jaw and cheeks tight, constraining you, so you have to stare at his face.

“You’re mine,” Javier growls, “shit—bebe, tell me who you belong to.”

You can feel that knot in your centre tighten, your walls pulsing and twitching all over his length, you grip onto his shoulders.

“Y-you Javi,” you stutter, “fuck I belong to you. Always yours, please.”

His hand moves and the tips of his fingers circle your clit. You’re close, so fucking close and with that added pressure of his fingers, it’ll tip you over the edge.

“Oh my, Javi I’m gonna—“

“Y’gonna come?” he says, quickening the swirls on your bundle of nerves, “fuck querida go on, come on my cock, that’s it.”

The tip of your fingers dig into him as your orgasm crashes over you, your stomach twisting and thighs tightening against him. It feels fucking incredible, his cock hitting your precious spot relentlessly and prolonging that feeling of ecstasy flourishing through your skin.

“Buena niña,” Javier praises, his hips never ceasing as he chases his own high. Your walls constrict, pussy drenching his cock with more of your release.

“M’gonna come,” Javier warns, his movements faltering and body slumping. With one last forceful push, Javiers orgasm ripples through him, moaning out a string of curse words as he fills the condom with his come.

“Fuck me,” he chokes and praises your name, his breathing fast as his arms wrap under you, keeping himself shielded inside you.

Your trace patterns on his dampened back, feeling the lively pace of his heart, the rhythm heard in your eardrums.

A couple minutes go by like this, and once Javier gathers the energy, he slides his weight off you and rests beside you.

Javier’s the first to talk. “You alright cariño? How was it? Wasn’t too rough with you was I?”

You smile, hands rubbing his scalp and digits lacing through his messy hair, “No Javi, you weren’t. It was perfect.”

He nudges your nose with his own, hoisting himself off the bed and walking towards the bathroom. He freshens you up, covering your body with his bed sheet to keep you warm and once he’s finished that, he lies next to you.

“Thank you, Javi,” you say after a moments silence, staring up at his ceiling. He looks at you confused.

“I just wanted—,” you sigh, a sudden shyness mixed in with your voice, “you’ve been really good to me. And so patient, I appreciate it so much.”

“Y’don’t have to thank me querida. If anyone should be saying thank you, it’s me.”

Your eyebrows droop, ready to question him but this time, Javier’s quick to reply.

“You trusted me with something personal,” he says quietly, “got me thinking about how important you are to me.”

Your heart rapidly beats at his words, swallowing down the lump you can feel in your throat.

“You already know that, don’t you. You’re pretty much the only thing that gets me through days when shit gets tough.”

Your face rests on his chest, giving it a quick peck, “You’re important to me too Javi. And this may be a stupid question but…I’m hoping this isn’t just a one-time thing?”

Fuck, please say no.

He looks down at you through his eyelashes, a mumbled chuckle petting your cheek. He smirks at you.

“Oh, definitely not a one-time thing mi amor.” You gulp. “You have no idea what else I’ve got planned for you. You’ve got so much to learn.”

Swiftly, he fits in between your legs again and you wheeze in shock. His face holds a mocking expression, and you laugh.

He rubs the end of his finger over your lip, watching with seduction as you lick the tip. He pushes forward and you take his digit into your mouth and moan.

“Fucking hell, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into querida,” he says almost like a warning, “you’re playing a very dangerous game y’know that?”

You don’t. But that’s what makes it exciting.

“Then show me.”

His finger leaves your mouth as he hums. “Rest first cariño,” he says, kissing your lips. Javier turns off the light on his bedside table and hugs you from behind. His breathing tickles the back of your neck, and before you can say goodnight, you fall into one of the best and quickest sleeps you’ve ever had.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

[inmyicyworld]

Wakanda

pt. 2

Summary: You visit Bucky in Wakanda, and the hidden feelings are finally coming out.

Words count: 2.6k.

Warnings: smut, best friends to lovers, Bucky has one arm, he's insecure, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, pet names.

Author’s note: I finally wrote this because this scenario couldn't let me sleep peacefully. I also have an idea for the second part (with Bucky’s new arm🤭), so I'll write it if you like this part <3

*English is not my first language, sorry if you find any mistakes*

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

You finally got permission to visit Bucky in Wakanda again since he was permanently living there to get rid of the Winter Soldier program and learn how to live a normal life again. You were there only three times because Princess Shuri and Ayo insisted that too much contact with other people might distract Bucky. 

The last time you were there with Steve and, even if you loved him to death, you couldn't deny the disappointment that you barely spent any time with Bucky alone. He was your best friend since you and Steve saved him in Bucharest, and you had the biggest crush on him for about the same amount of time.

You jumped right into his arms as soon as you walked down the hill and saw him standing near the lake. He hugged you back, burying his face into your neck, and it was truly the moment that you never wanted to end. Bucky smelled like fresh air mixed with some kind of seasoning, and fuck, he looked good. In traditional Wakandian clothes that were covering his missing arm too, a low bun on the back of his head with a few springs of hair around his face, and smooth and tanned skin from the work under the sun.

You two quickly moved to his hut with the food that you bought at the local cafe owned by a sweet old man. And somewhere after that, when you were eating on the floor covered with many blankets and colorful pillows and talking about your lives, everything went downhill. 

Food was forgotten. Somehow you ended up sitting on Bucky’s lap while you were connected in the most passionate and dirty kiss you ever had. Your hands were tightly holding his face, and his right one had a strong grip on your waist to hold you closer.

“Bucky…” You moaned in his mouth while your hips were grinding into his hardness, which was so obvious through the clothes. You both were so lost in the moment, sharing a desperate kiss full of tongues and teeth, trying to get to each other as close as possible.

It felt so right, like it was supposed to happen a long time ago, and now all of your feelings just couldn't be kept inside.

Bucky couldn't help but groan under his breath when your hand slipped into his hair, completely destroying his low bun. Your nails on his scalp felt majestic, and his brain became fuzzy with your gentle yet confident touches. Bucky moved his hand from your waist to your thigh, squeezing the soft and warm skin a little bit lower than your shorts. 

When he pulled away, you tried to follow his mouth, almost addicted to the taste and the feeling of his lips on yours.

“Fuck, doll, that’s not how I imagined it.” His face became sad and almost apologetic, and you saw that the corners of his now red lips moved downward in disappointment. “Not here, not with only one arm... Fuck, I can’t even touch you the way I want to.” His hand tightened on your hip, and you gave him a sad smile. Not that those things mattered to you, but your heart still hurt because Bucky felt that way.

“I don’t care about it. I just want you, Bucky, if you want me too, of course.” Your voice was soft and gentle, soothing his nerves a little bit.

“You can’t imagine how much I want it, but I can’t do much with one hand; fuck, it’s so bad, I’m sorry...” Bucky’s eyes closed and his head fell lower, but you could still see a pink flush on his cheeks.

“Bucky, I want it; I want you, and your hand is not a problem, okay?” He deeply inhaled when your hands took his face and your lips were back on his. The kiss wasn’t so harsh and desperate; it was more deep and passionate, like you both tried to feel each other. “Why don’t you just lay back on the pillows, and I’ll do everything?” You bit your lip, suddenly feeling slightly nervous, and put your right hand on his chest, pushing Bucky back on the pile of pillows behind him so he was sitting in a reclined position.

You saw the hesitation in his eyes, and you waited a few seconds, gently rubbing your fingers over his beard, so he could process your idea.

“Okay.” 

You got closer, sitting more comfortably on top of him. One of your hands pressed onto the pillows near Bucky’s body, and the other one landed on his firm chest, playing with the red clothes that he was wearing. Bucky lifted his hand, gently grabbing your face and kissing you again. His soft lips and slow movements of his tongue inside your mouth made you moan into a kiss.

“Can I take it off?” You mumbled, slightly pulling down the red material. More of his soft, tanned skin was shown, and you tried to hold yourself together and not overstep the line. Bucky’s pupils were dilated, almost completely hiding your favorite blues. He was closely watching your moving lips, as if he couldn’t get enough. 

“Mhm, but— please, can we leave this on?” He pointed to his shoulder, covered in blue material.

“If you feel more comfortable that way, then we can. But we don’t have to, if you suggest it only because of me.” You started to untangle his clothes, still watching his face to notice any signs of discomfort. 

“Just leave it on, okay?” 

“Okay.” As you removed the clothes from his chest, leaving the cover on his left shoulder, allowing you to see his perfectly sculpted body, your lips left soft kisses on Bucky’s cheek, going down to his neck and to his abs. You stopped there, feeling how the body underneath you tensed, and his hand gripped the duvet so hard that his knuckles became white. “Bucky?” 

“‘M okay, it’s just been so long for me. Didn’t get used to feeling that way. And I want you so bad, doll, I can’t even explain it.” He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. You felt that his cock was painfully hard underneath you, and just thinking about touching it made you ten times wetter.

“You can have me, Bucky. Do you want me to take the rest of our clothes?” You moved your hips a little bit, getting an almost desperate whine from Bucky. He looked so good like this: slightly disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, red lips, and eyes full of lust and need. And he was completely yours, fuck.

“Yes, please.” 

You placed a quick kiss on his lips before getting up. Bucky’s eyes were following your every move as you took off your shorts and t-shirt, staying in the cooling air only in your simple black underwear. But Bucky was looking at you like you were the most delicious and precious thing in the world, like he wanted to make love to you and completely destroy your body at the same time. 

“Doll– fuck, everything else too, please.” He licked his lips, unconsciously moving his hips from the lack of attention. Your eyes slipped to his crotch, seeing how his cock was very visible through layers of clothes.

You just smiled at his desperation but still reached to the back to unclip your bra and then slide your panties down your legs. You didn’t waste any more time, going back to Bucky and finally completely taking off his clothes. 

“Holy fuck…” Your mouth went completely dry when you pulled down his black boxers. You never found this part of a man’s body that attractive, but it was the prettiest dick you had ever seen. Thick and long, with a vein going around it and a slight curve towards his press. The shiny drop of pre-cum on the head made you instantly want to lick it, but the mumble of your name and calloused hand on the lower part of your back brought your attention back to Bucky.

“You’re going to kill me, doll. C’mere, please, I want– need to touch you. Need to kiss you.” Before you could even say something or move, his hand slipped under your ass and, without much effort, lifted you on top of him. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I want to worship you and make you feel good; I’m so sorry that I can’t.” 

“Bucky,” you said, laying down on his chest. “I promise that when you get your new arm, I’ll let you fuck me however you want to, okay? But for now, I want to take care of you.” The feeling of your hard nipples pressing against his firm chest sent shivers down your spine, and the hand on your back made you want to grind on Bucky like a bitch in heat. “Please, touch me, baby.”

“You shouldn’t say shit like this to me, doll. I won’t let you go until you can’t even fucking think straight. Fuck–  how are you so soft…” Bucky’s hand was now exploring your body, gripping your ass, tracing your stomach, and going straight to your sensitive boobs. He never wanted to have both arms as much as he does now, to touch every curve of your body and find everything that makes you feel good.

“Bucky!” Your hands pressed against his chest, and your head fell back with a moan when he pinched your nipple in between his fingers. He chuckled softly before sliding his hand down, right to your dripping core.

“Doll, look at you.” His eyes were glued to the place where his fingers traced your folds. “Is this all for me?” 

“Y-yes, Bucky, please…” You almost cried at the feeling that he gave you. Even if it was a long time for him, Bucky definitely didn’t forget how to please a woman. Your legs desperately wanted to close from the stimulation on the clit, but since you were spread on top of him, you couldn’t do anything but whine and dig your nails into the hot skin under your hands. “Don’t tease me, just— Fuck!” 

“Taking my fingers so good, doll.” You knew that he was smiling because of your reaction as two thick digits slid inside of you, filling you so well but not enough at the same time. “You’re already ready for my cock, huh? Wanna feel how this pretty pussy stretches around me. C'mon, baby, help me.” Bucky moved his hips upward, and you felt how his dick was pressing on your ass.

“You have a dirty mouth, Barnes.” You laughed before reaching to the back, grabbing his cock, and lifting your body at the same time. You put the tip at your entrance, running his length through your folds and letting the head bump your clit as he collected your wetness, until you both couldn’t handle the teasing anymore. Bucky put his hands on your ass, pressing on top and allowing you to slowly take him inside of you.

It was too much. The burn of him stretching you was slightly painful, but it made you feel so full, as if the two pieces of puzzles finally added up. You both moaned, your head fell back, and you tried to go slowly and adjust to his size.

Bucky’s hand tightened on your hip, probably leaving red marks. He breathed deeply to control his fast-beating heart. You felt so fucking good, all wet and tight for him, that it was hard not to move his hips into you. But it was obvious that you needed some time based on your tensed body and slightly opened mouth.

“Bucky…” Your eyes were flattering, not being able to completely focus on his face. You thought that you could just fuck him and take control, but you didn’t expect to be this cock drunk before either of you even made a move.

“So pretty lookin’ like this baby.”

“‘M so full…” You moaned, gripping Bucky’s hand and interlacing your fingers. 

You found a comfortable position, holding yourself with one hand on Bucky’s chest. The first movement of your hips was shocking, sending goosebumps all over your body. You both loudly moaned when you moved up, until he almost slipped out of you, and then down, burying his cock deeply inside. 

Bucky’s lower half slightly moved up when his non-existent left arm wanted to grab your hips, and you must’ve noticed the disappointment and anger written on his face because you leaned a little bit lower and freed your hand from his grip, moving it to his face. 

“That’s okay, Buck, just relax, please? Don’t worry.” You cooed in the softest voice. Your hips started to slowly move at a stable pace.

“You’re so perfect, baby.” He mumbled, and you felt that his body started to thrust into yours, so his cock perfectly touched your g-spot.

It became more intense with every minute. The little hut was filled with the smell of sex and the sound of your moans, combined with the skin slapping. You were too desperate for each other, trying to reach your climaxes but not wanting this moment to end. 

Bucky tried to touch you as much as possible; he wanted to make you feel good, give you satisfaction, and fulfill his own needs in your presence. He moved his hand from your ass to your stomach and boobs, then to your face, bringing you closer for another hot and passionate kiss. He was all over you, hungry to get more and to remember every centimeter of your perfect body. 

You two moved in perfect rhythm, meeting each other's movements.

“Please, Bucky– it’s so good, fu-uck, I’m gonna cum.” You cried out loud, feeling that your body was starting to go numb from your approaching orgasm. 

“Such a good pussy, takin’ me so well. ‘M close too, baby; ride my cock, c’mon. Get what you need.” He slapped your ass, encouraging you to move faster. “So pretty wrapped around me. Can I cum inside you, hm? You’ll let me feel you up?” 

Your head quickly nodded while you didn’t break eye contact with the man in front of you. Bucky bit his lip, trying to control himself and get you to the finish first, but you looked so fucking good on top of him, with your boobs jumping up and down, that he knew he couldn’t hold himself any longer. So he brought his hand to the lower part of your stomach, pressing his thumb against your swollen clit. 

That was the breaking point for you. You completely lost control over your body, barely being able to stay still when the waves of pleasure were breaking through you.

“Good girl. You can almost feel me in your stomach, yeah?” Bucky’s palm was feeling every thrust of his dick with the palm of his hand, and it felt fucking insane. “Fu-u-uck, you’re squeezing the shit out of me, ‘m not gonna last longer.” He moaned, losing his rhythm too, while you fell down on his chest, too overwhelmed and overstimulated. 

You felt the last movement of his hips until he froze, moaning into your ear, and emptied himself deeply inside of your spasming pussy. You unconsciously continued to squeeze around his cock, getting every single drop, as if your body was greedy to get more of his load.

“I don’t feel m’ body…” You mumbled, already feeling sleepy, and wrapped your hands around Bucky’s body. 

“Sleep, baby.” The soft material fell on your back, covering your naked bodies. You felt a light kiss on top of your head, and Bucky’s arm hugged your back, holding you closer to him. 

You couldn’t be sure, but right before you drifted to sleep, you heard something that weirdly sounded like “I love you.” 

pt.2

[seresinhangmanjake]

Because You Stayed

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female reader

Summary: Your relationship with Jake is new. Very new. Like one-month-old new. Too new for you to be pregnant with his baby, and yet, that's exactly the situation you're facing.

*This fic can be read alone, but it is also a "What if?" scenario for Oh, Baby.*

Warnings/notes: pregnancy, fluff. idk, that's probably it.

Words: 1459

---

It hadn't been long. That was the terrifying bit.

Yes, you'd known him for what felt like ages, but that time spent knowing him was missing the one way you'd always wished to know him most. For a year, you'd dreamed of being with him, pining in silence, until everything changed and you got your wish. 

It had only been a month since you took the risk and kissed him, and you and Jake had certainly used the time wisely. After that one month, you finally, deeply, truly knew him—all of him, in and out, up and down. You knew what made him feel good. You knew how to make him whimper. You knew that every time he came in you, he buried his face in your neck, kissing your sensitive skin with a groan in his throat.

And then suddenly, you knew you were pregnant.

In just thirty days, Jake Seresin managed to knock you up. 

Well, actually, that wasn't so accurate. According to your doctor, it only took your pilot one shot—his first shot with you—to get it done. You'd been pregnant for weeks and hadn't known until you realized you were too often exhausted and had an unusual lack of cramping for the time of the month.

You went through the stages, of course. The denial and acceptance and all those in between as your doctor stared at you, trying to understand the thoughts running through your head. It was wildly overwhelming, certainly. But despite it all, there was one other thing you knew by the time you pulled out of the office's parking lot: 

You wanted your baby. Which meant your entire world was going to flip on its side from that moment on. And after days of thinking, of going back and forth, you decided you were going to do the very same to Jake's. 

—

His mouth was on yours before you could breathe in the piney scent of his cologne. A desperate, greedy taking from your lips as he pushed you up against the closest wall of his home. He enveloped you like a man too long deprived. And you would've let him take you; you and everything he needed to feel good again if only your need to tell him your news wasn't so prevalent in your mind. 

"Jake, wait." The words slipped through the sliver of space that broke your kiss. 

He paused but didn't step away. His closeness kept his mouth brushing against yours, breaths mingling.

"What for?" He whispered.

"Because," you began, eyes slowly grazing up the length of his face until they met the heated stare of his green irises. You swallowed. "We have to talk."

In an instant, he ripped himself from your arms, forcing too many steps between you. Every bit of his body altered to match his frown. Eyebrows dipped in the center. Shoulders slumped forward the slightest. Your muscled man somehow shrunk in size and stature within mere moments.

"I did something, didn't I? I couldn't think of what it was, but I knew there had to be a reason," he said. The pain radiating from his form seeped deep into your pores. "You've been avoiding me for three days."

With a sigh, you said, "I know."

There was a sudden shift, and you could see it in him that he expected you to deny it. That maybe you had a decent excuse for your behavior. Too busy. Too stressed. Too tired to spend time with him. It was clear anything would have sufficed to ease his budding anxiety. Anything but the truth you had for him to hear.

"You're here to tell me we're over," he decided. 

The shock of his words kept you silent. It was the last thing you ever imagined he would believe. After all, you had been the one to take the leap that closed the gap between friendship and something more. He slept in your bed as often as you did in his. Your hearts were equally bare before one another, a development only made from your unwillingness to be without him a second longer. Never---you would never end it with him. But you didn't have time to say so before he was grasping your hands tightly in his. 

"Please," he started. There was a catch in his voice. "Please don't end this."

You shook your head. "Jake, you don't understand."

"Then help me. Explain it to me, Honey. Whatever I did—"

"You didn't do anything," you interjected. Then, considering your words, said, "Well, you did, but so did I."

"You?" he questioned with eyes wide. "Honey, what could you have possibly—"

"Jake, I'm pregnant."

He blinked. And blinked again. Lips parted then closed. One of his hands released yours so it could muss his traditionally neat blond locks, then his eyes fell to your stomach. 

"Pregnant." He stated, no hint of a question behind it. "You're pregnant with…with my…?"

You nodded.

The long breath he expelled ended with a small smile that softly curved the delicate line of his mouth. Barely noticeable. Locking his gaze to yours and noticing your uncertainty, he said, "It's alright. We will figure this out, ok? I promise." Fingertips swept across your cheekbone. "I mean, I can—I can be a dad."

Your jaw slackened. "You want it?"

"Our baby?" he asked, a wobble to his tone. His brows rose as the rest of his features fell from heartbreak. "Don't you?"

You could've fallen apart then, right in front of him, to let out the many sobs you'd held in over the last few days. A bout of carefree weeping just from the pure acceptance Jake was showing you and the child you'd made together. 

"You don't." He once again concluded from your silence.

"No, Jake. I do. I swear I do," you said, rubbing the back of your hand over your nose as you sniffled. "I just didn't think you would. I–I wasn't sure."

"Of course I want our baby," he stressed, squeezing your hands again. 

This distress on his face made something in your chest alternate between gentle flutters and vice-like constricting. To have his unexpected support alone was enough to solidify the concealed love you felt for him. But you couldn't ignore how your questioning and insecurity clearly caused him further hurt.

"You say that so easily without even thinking it over."

"There isn't anything for me to think over, Honey," he said. "It's you."

Whether consciously done or not, Jake's fingers tightened the slightest around yours when you untwined them so you could wrap your arms around his neck. You had no intention of pulling away as he'd somehow thought. You just needed him closer,  more firmly against you. You needed the solidity of his form to hold you together.

Pulling him in, you asked, "Do you really think we can do this?"

Jake's hands curled around your waist. "We can do anything."

"Everyone will think we're insane."

"Well," he sighed, then tugged his bottom lip between his teeth and shrugged. "Probably. But this is our family. No one else's." A smile caused lovely crinkles to form at the corners of his eyes before he rested his forehead on yours. "And we can absolutely do this."

"You won't change your mind, right?"

"Never, Honey," he promised. "The two of you are mine."

—

"Are you nervous?"

Your fingers wove through his hair as his ear was resting against your stomach. Listening for any minute sound. Feeling for even the slightest movement.

His attachment to that part of you had grown exponentially since you started showing, and more often than not, his hands, his cheek, his lips were worshiping your lower abdomen.

"Not nervous," he said, looking up at you. "Excited. I want to see our baby."

There was a prickling in the corners of your eyes at his genuine joy. But that was a constant. Tears were common from the moment you found out when you were pregnant. They managed to come more often when Jake proved how much he loved you. And well, when he finally uttered those three words, your cheeks seemed to be damp on the daily. Everything he gave you, all at once, was so wonderfully overwhelming, and you didn't bother holding back.

Jake didn't shame you for it, either; just simply held you and kissed you and thanked you for being his.

"Do you want the doctor to tell us what it's going to be tomorrow?" You asked. 

"They don't have to. I already know."

You chuckled at his smirk, and in your testing tone, said, "Is that so? And what is our child, Lieutenant Seresin?"

"Oh, a girl. Definitely a girl," he said, laying his head back down close to your stomach. "You'll see."

-

Tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @abaker74 @novagreen04 @multifandomlover4life @mayhemmanaged @memeorydotcom @ryiamarie @ateliefloresdaprimavera

[mooooonnnzz]

here’s a tlok request 😉 how about mako and bolin helping nervous reader ask korra out🤭🤭 i’ve been thinking about this scenario for a whileeeeee

Korra x fem!reader

✮ sorry this took soo lonnggg was busy with finalsss

✮ nothing much!! bolin being a good wingman

✮ mako is trying his best 😞

✮ ENJOYY + REQUEST R OPEN

✮ not proofread 💔

You burst through the doors, anxiety swirling through you like a windy storm. Your mind was racing with so many possibilities and what if’s you were near exploding. Korra has been a little too friendly lately. Her lingering touches and longing looks has made you assume that maybe, just maybe she likes you more than a friend. How could you think otherwise? Just the day before she was blushing when you hugged her goodbye. She’s never done that before, then again, you’ve never been all that touchy with her. Hugging her is new for you and her. Maybe she was flushed with embarrassment? But what if there’s a slight chance she might like you the same way you do? You need to take advantage of that slim possibility, even if it does seem a little crazy.

Bolin’s attention switches from the earth plates he was practicing on throwing on to you. Your name slips past his lips, curiously he takes in your rigid form. “You okay?” He asks, straighten in his posture and wiping the sweat that trickled down his forehead.

“Korra,” Was all you said. Bolin rasied a brow, cocking his head to the side confused. “What about Korra?”

You nervously bite your lip, peeling away at the dry skin that was flaking off. “Ineedhelpaskingherout.” You said in a hurried mush, your eyes staring down at your shoes.

“You need what?” Bolin angles his head slightly to the side, attempting to hear your jumbled mess of words better. “I need help…askingkorra out…”

You can see the cogs turn in Bolin’s head as he tries to make sense of what you said. When it finally clicks, he gasped so loudly that you could’ve swore anyone around would have heard him.

“You want to ask Korra out?!” Bolin excitedly said, his eyes sparkling brightly. “Finally!” He cheers.

“Finally?” You repeat, eyebrows furrowing with confusion tracing your face. “What do you mean finally?”

Has your attraction to Korra been painfully obvious to others except you and her?

“It was so obvious that you and her had something for each other! It’s about time you do something about it.” Bolin grins from ear to ear. “Mako owes me so much money.” He whispers to himself. “Imagine how many bowls of noodles I can buy with that much money!”

You could see the blissful look take over his face the minute he starts imagining how much he can get for him and Pabu to share.

The doors open and for a second your heart drops to your stomach at the thought of Korra being the one coming inside. You were proven wrong when Bolin loudly calls Mako over.

Begrudgingly he comes over, annoyance written across his face. “Yes?” Mako says when he nears you and Bolin.

“Guess who’s asking Korra out!”

Mako’s eyes immediately went to look at you. His whole demeanor shrinks as he realizes he lost his bet with Bolin.

“How much do you want?” Mako sighs, a visible frown taking over his lips. “80 yuan?” Mako’s eyes widen. “80 yuan? You’re crazy. Lower it.”

“Hey man! You lost the bet, not me.” Bolin lazily shrugs, placing his palm up right in front of him and Mako. “Pay up big brother!”

Mako ends up giving him the money that was owed. He’s left 80 yuan short and with a large scowl on his face. “What now?” He huffs out, grumpily crossing his arms across his chest.

“We’re going to help someone ask Korra out.” Bolin looks at you while cheekily smiling. Mako sighs and soon enough you’re being told a step by step plan by mostly Bolin on how to “woo” Korra. Mako added his input occasionally. He’s not the best at asking someone out or giving advice but the effort was sweet.

The walk to Korra after spotting her was genuinely the most stressful part. Watching her lips upturn into her infamous crooked smile upon seeing you was all it took for your heart to burst. You send a worried look over to Bolin and Mako who were sitting on a bench. A newspaper covered Bolin’s face while Mako had sunglasses. Lowering the newspaper, Bolin shot you a thumbs up before covering his face with the newspaper. His eyes peeping through the peep holes he created to spy on you and Korra.

“Hi Korra,” You greet with a nervous smile. She greets you back, your name slipping past her lips so smoothly it made your skin erupt in goosebumps. “What’s up? Wanna hang out or something?” Korra asks.

“Yeah, yeah. I just want to get something out of the way first,” You clear your throat, hearing a soft cheer of Bolin.

Korra looks over to who made the sound and rose a brow when she was met with a pair of eyes that was shrouded behind newspaper. “Do you see that guy over—“

“—I like you Korra!”

Silence.

Korra shakes her head. “Wait, what?” Her brows knit together in confusion. Her cheeks are blooming into a light blush. “What did you say?” A small smile fights its way to her lips.

“I…I like you. More than like, really. I just don’t know if you liked me like that and I didn’t want to make you feel—“ Your rambling was cut short by Korra’s lips pressing against yours.

She pulls back, smiling crookedly. “I do like you like that,” She says, interlocking her hand with yours. “I thought it was a pretty obvious.”

“It was pretty obvious!” Bolin shoots up from the bench, discarding the newspaper aside. The wind pushes the newspaper onto Mako’s face, who lurched forward in surprise. He must’ve fallen asleep during the whole ordeal.

“Bolin?” A confused expression was plastered onto Korra’s face.

To the newspapers dismay, Mako was able to rip it off his face. Korra’s eyes widen upon seeing Mako.

“What are they doing here?” Korra asks you, watching bow Bolin approached you and her. “We’re here for moral support.” Bolin puts his hands on his waist, puffing his chest out triumphantly.

“Did it work?” Mako asks from the bench.

“Obviously!” Bolin retorted.

“Did they help you ask me out?” Korra softly laughs, her eyes meeting yours. “Yeah…I couldn’t do it alone so they offered to help me.” You confess, twisting your foot on the ground nervously.

“I think you did pretty well.” Korra’s thumb caresses your hand. “At least Bolin didn’t tell me that you liked me.”

You smile at Korra, feeling your cheeks tingle with happiness. “So we’re together together?” You ask giddily.

Korra answers your question with another kiss. Wrapping her arms around your waist, she mumbles a quiet “yes” into the kiss.

Bolin’s loud cheering could be heard from across nations.

[judasgot-it]

Early Sunsets Over Yokohama

Early Sunsets Over Monroeville - My Chemical Romance

What Once Was - Her's

Part 1

Scenario: He found you.

1.2 k words

Dazai was terrified for once in his life.

The comforting thought of death was something that he had used to protect himself - he could imagine everyone in his life dying because he knew that when they did, he didn't want to cry.

It helped when he had lost people in other ways. He had lost them through breakups, drifting apart...

They were all natural.

So he would imagine that they would die in horrific and disgusting ways, far too vile to speak of. He would kill them in his head in order to protect himself.

But he didn't know where to start if he had ever lost you.

You were the only exception to this rule.

Dazai tried so many times to imagine your death - to kill you in his head, to destroy your image, to distance himself. Just to gain some control over his own self.

It never worked. He would lose himself if you died.

He was living for you, and he couldn't even tell it to you.

The one person who knew everything.

If he couldn't find you, protect you, and know you were alive - he wouldn't survive. His heart might not make it past that heartbreak.

But he forced himself to push that human fear, to find you and know that you were alive.

The ADA wanted you alive as well.

It had been days of searching, after the disaster of what had happened at the airport.

Maybe it was weeks. It was impossible to know the time anymore, as he hadn't moved the calendar from the last date you had marked down.

Your life seemed to have ended since he had been arrested. The day he had proposed to you.

That was when you stopped marking down the dates so meticulously, and instead filled your shared apartment with work and caffeine.

Up until the day of the event, you had been working tirelessly. And then you had disappeared - leaving behind an unfinished bottle of whiskey, a spoiled convenience store bento box, and a letter of encouragement from Kenji.

As much as you tried, it seemed Dazai had rubbed off too much on you. He wanted to laugh at the thought.

Dazai didn't sleep unless his body shut down. The man couldn't even walk, but all he did was force his weak body to think and listen to reports and read documents from all over Japan.

You both had become the same when the other was absent - although Dazai found that instead of one bottle of whiskey, it was three. And you had never bothered to touch the suspicious pills he kept.

He was running on those more than food. Dazai couldn't ever finish his meals before they went stale or bad, so he stuck with a single can of food a day, or half of whatever he was forced to eat in the office.

Life was bleakest in that period - however long it was.

Maybe a month? The weather had changed very little, but time felt like it had passed for an eternity.

He would end up finding you in a small abandoned bus station, like a pawn that was thrown across the board. A very random place to end up, in his opinion.

There was nothing valuable there.

It was impossible to understand how you ended up there - no buses even went there, and the walk to that station was nearly impossible.

But actually thinking about the logistics of your reappearance was something Dazai wanted to not care about for once in his life. Even if you were looking at him, terrified that you weren't the same person as before.

No one understood how it happened. Not even you.

You were suffering from severe memory loss, but it might have been a good thing - you had shown up in that spot with injuries and severe fatigue. It was possible you had crawled your way to that spot, but it didn't seem like you had left a trail there for very long.

The ADA wanted to know what had happened - day and night they would question you, driving through the same points to figure out where you had been, and what could have been done to you.

But Dazai didn't care. He didn't think.

You were here.

All he would do is hold you in his arms, ever since he saw you - dirty from trekking in the mud of the wet woods, and smelling from the days without showering, and he would simply kiss you with abandon.

You tasted terrible, with fuzzy teeth and oily hair. And he fucking loved it.

It was you. All you, here, in that moment, with him.

Since then, he only ever saw you.

In your shared apartment, Dazai couldn't bring himself to ask you:

'What happened?'

All he would do is swaddle you in blankets and hold you in his lap. His arms would wrap around your sides and he would cradle you between his thighs, as if trying to trap you in a cacoon made entirely of his limbs.

Not once did you ask him a question:

'How was prison? How was defeating Fyodor?'

It was as if all of that didn't exist to either of you anymore.

There was no war between the two of you. No abilities, no missing time - the calendar wasn't missing any X's and it didn't have a distinct lack of your handwriting across it.

Everything was the same. The air smelt like alcohol and mold; dirty hair and mud. But it smelt like home.

Dazai could smell you underneath everything, and he could still taste you despite the whiskey on his breath. Everything was familiar, despite the changes.

Even if you lost your face, he was sure he was going to remember what you looked like - the way you were looking up at him was something that had been burned into his mind, something that chased him in his dreams.

There was a small feeling Dazai had, where he wanted to lock you in this room and never let you go. To handcuff your wrist to his, and keep you by his side so he could never let you go.

The best he could do was pull you closer, feeling your ribs contract against his hold as you struggled to breathe in his hold, giggling as if he were being playful.

He would let you think that. Your hands were pulling at his greasy hair, and he played along - hiding his face in your neck so you didn't know that if he let go right now, he just might have to eat you so you never left him again.

Fyodor almost won.

"Dazai, are you alright?" You were pulled at the back of his hair by the handful, your knuckles the first thing to touch his scalp in weeks. God, he needed a shower.

Simply sighing, he brushed his nose against the back of your neck, kissing your spine and smiling as your breath stuttered. You were like a virgin underneath him, even when you were both a disgusting mess like this.

"Just thinking about how much I wanna marry you." If he could, he would wear your skin and die in his grave like that - there would be no other way to be closer.

But the ring on your finger was close enough. He thought a lot about that when you were gone. He knew you did too.

"We should do it soon."

"It?"

Your hand pulled harder, making Dazai wince a little. Of course, you were going to be mean about it.

"Get married, asshole." There's an ending to that - 'because we almost lost each other.' But neither of you were brave enough to talk about it now.

Maybe not ever. This already was a big statement.

There wasn't much of a conversation to be had about it. Not now, at least.

Dazai was sure he was going crazy a little bit, trying to choke you in his arms while still running on nothing but the takeout he had in the car - a meal he only ate half of, given he shared it with you.

His skin was disgusting, and the apartment was disgusting. For once, the dirt he usually surrounded himself with was bothering him.

Maybe he needed to be better for you now.

Before he realized it, he was staring at his dark ceiling, illuminated only by his small box TV and your face looking right above him. The lighting was a little scary - making you look more like a creature from a horror film than the angel he knew.

But your matted hair and tired eyes weren't exactly giving an 'angelic glow' either.

"We should sleep"

Dazai only hummed along, his hands feeling your curves and pulling you down towards him, trying to absorb your skin onto his - if he was a little more mental, he would have skinned you and eaten every part of you now.

Never let you get away from him.

But as your hands and body shifted around, trying to make his skinny frame more comfortable, he could feel the ring he gave you catching on his ratty old pajamas. It was going to have to be close enough, he supposed.

For the people who wanted a pt. 2 -> @aquaberrydolphin @skelkitty @queen-of-fanfic, this was so off the tracks but like we yolo this shit

[scoobydoodean]

Your thoughts on Amy are really interesting to me because when I was watching I'll admit I saw it as another tragic scenario that's often presented in the show. Like, she found a way to live her life with her son that wouldn't have her kill people (being a mortician) but when her son was sick she turned to desperate measures to save him. It's a sort of situation we see time and time again on the show. I'll admit I didn't quite pick up on the classist rhetoric going on in the episode and while I'm not entirely sure that was intentional by the writers it's definitely had me looking at this plot point in a new light. Dean killing Amy and its consequences has always been a really interesting narrative beat because while I ultimately don't fully agree with Dean's decision there, I totally see why he did it and understand his reasonings for it. Idk how many other fans feel the Amy conflict and the arc it has the brothers go through but I do think that at least at it's core it was an interesting one to explore even if it's execution of it left something to be desired for me

Sorry to ramble in your ask box but I seriously love your metas even when I don't always agree with your opinions 💜

If you don't mind a little rambling as well: I don't know that I'd say we see this same situation time and again. We have "Monsters Who Manage". For example, Lenore and her nest (2.03, 6.19). Benny. Garth and Bess. Sometimes those "monsters" feed again despite their best efforts (ex: Lenore in 6.19).

Amy isn't like any of them though. Sam seems to want to present Amy as an addict who relapsed (like Lenore), but that isn't what happened. She didn't feed on the brains of the people she killed. That was never her goal. She just had an opportunity to do something immoral to save her kid and she did it. In the end, her being a kitsune has almost nothing to do with her actions. A human parent could have done something very similar to save their own child. Imagine if your child needed a new heart and there was a long waiting list, so you went out and killed someone else and had their heart transplanted. That's more like what Amy did. Her kid got a food borne illness or infection. Normal human children get listeria and other dangerous food borne infections/illnesses. The only way in which Amy being a kitsune really impacts the situation is that it presented a unique solution to her child being sick that wouldn't be available to other parents (fresh pituitary glands). Her choosing to act on that opportunity just kind of shows that on some level, she does think of humans (at least "lower class" humans) as food.

At the same time, I do think Dean's actions go further than a moral difference with Sam. Dean is spiraling after the events of season 6. Cas lied and then died, and when it all went to shit, Death blamed Dean for everything and Dean crumpled under the weight of those expectations (we jump further into this in the following episode). It leaves Dean hyper-focused on not making a "mistake" again (for example, trusting someone he shouldn't have). At the same time, Dean's deeply depressed and suicidal (7.02), and his outlook on life and his own family is incredibly cynical when "The Girl Next Door" takes place. He says "the other shoe will drop" in regards to Sam because he doesn't have hope that anything could ever turn out right for their family. He repeats it in regards to Amy because people never change. Everyone is doomed to repeat their mistakes for all time (Dean's despair often looks like falling into the spiral of causality instead of remembering he can leap out of its flow). He also says "People are what they are", and I do think he's thinking about Cas at that point.

Amy mingled with humans and was a part of their world, but her actions showed she saw them as food on some level... and I think that Dean looks back at Cas and worries that he was a fool to ever think Cas was (for lack of a better word) human (or at least an ally to humanity who truly respected them as equals). In 6.22, Cas tells Dean they were never a family, and in 7.01, he follows that up by telling Dean he only ever saw him as a pet. He reinforced the traditional hierarchy where humans are lower creatures to monsters—food. And what has Dean been fighting all his life? Powerful creatures who believe their physical dominance gives them license exploit humans as food. When Dean tells Amy "people are who they are"... I do think he's thinking about Cas and the trust he had in that relationship that was deeply crushed. He's scared to trust anyone again because he trusted Cas so very much and now his world has been ripped apart. He doesn't trust Sam's judgement on Amy because he trusted Cas and that backfired spectacularly. He doesn't trust Amy not to do this again. Tbh I think he's right not to trust her because she has absolutely zero remorse of any kind at all whatsoever at any point. To me, that makes it quite apparent she'd be more than happy to do the same thing again if her kid was ever sick again. Hell—maybe even if she got sick. But it does go deeper than a moral clash for Dean. He's full of despair. At the same time, his actions also aren't as simple as dropping into the doom of "Monsters bad" because he doesn't kill Amy's son. Something Sam's never really grasped is that monsterhood has never been about physical characteristics to Dean. It's always been about actions. For Sam on the other hand, monsterhood has historically been more about physical characteristics (post here). I think this also plays a role in their feelings about Amy.

[engie-ivy]

I wrote a follow-up to my previous microfic to turn the break-up fic into a Break-Up, and Make-Up?, fic!

1576 words

Remus and Sirius went from being close friends, to dating, to being friends again. Difficult as that may be, outwardly, they seem to be doing great...

Regrets & Mistakes

“Because she's my best friend!”

“That's all the more reason to tell her!” Lily argues, as she stands in front of the couch Marlene is curled up on. “You know what a good fit you are, you know how well you get on, you know Dorcas is not the kind of person to ever mock you for it, even if she doesn't feel the same,” Lily starts listing off as she paces up and down. “And if she does feel the same, you'll have this great foundation of friendship to build a relationship upon, and you'll have-”

“So much to lose!” Marlene interjects. “Lily,” she sighs, letting herself fall on her back on the couch. “Dorcas is my best friend, one of the most important people in my life. If she doesn't feel the same… Hell, even if she does feel the same, but we somehow muck it up, there's no coming back from that. We'll be forever changed, never the way we were.” Marlene shakes her head. “I don't think I'm willing to risk that.”

“Marls, do you know how many assumptions you are making?” Lily asks. “That it's bound to go up in smoke, for starters. But even if that happens, that doesn't have to permanently damage your friendship.”

Marlene gives her a skeptical look. “How on earth could that not affect a friendship?”

“Remus!” Lily suddenly exclaims, and Remus gives a start, almost dropping the piece of chocolate he was about to eat from the pile they had brought to cheer up Marlene (and if she's not eating it, someone's gotta).

“What?” he asks.

“You and Sirius were best friends,” Lily states. “Then you got together, dated for a while, broke up, and now you're still close friends.”

Remus nods.

“So it's possible!” Lily exclaims. “It's possible to go through a breakup and still be best friends after! Tell Marlene it's possible! Tell her that even the worst-case-scenario doesn't have to be so bad!”

Remus turns to Marlene. “It's not so bad,” he says dutifully.

Lily smiles triumphantly, but Remus continues. “At least, if you don't mind being constantly reminded of the worst mistake you ever made and seeing every single day how you let the best thing that ever happened to you get away, that is.”

"Okay," Lily says slowly. “Let's unpack that-” she gestures towards Remus as a whole “-later. We're now focusing on Marlene's issues.”

“Nope,” Marlene says, picking up a pillow and hiding her face underneath. “Absolutely not. I'm never ever telling her about my feelings now.”

“Here you are.”

Remus slides into the seat across from Sirius, who's drinking his coffee in a coffeeshop different from where they normally go.

“Oh,” Sirius looks startled. “Ehm, I was actually just going to…”

“Avoid me,” Remus states, crossing his arms over his chest.

An angry look passes over Sirius’ face. “Well, I thought you might want some time apart from me.”

“Want time apart from you?” Remus repeats, non-understanding . He's never wanted time apart from Sirius. Even when Sirius had been so intense that Remus had doubted he would ever be able to give Sirius what he needed, and in his anxiety decided to just end things before he would inevitably disappoint him, even when the wound was still so fresh and seeing Sirius made it bleed all over again, even then, Remus had not wanted time apart from Sirius. The pain of seeing Sirius simply wasn't as bad as having to miss Sirius. “Why would I want time apart from you?”

Sirius shrugs, trying to look casual, but Remus can see the tension set in his shoulders. “I dunno. Can't imagine it's very fun to be constantly reminded of ‘the worst mistake you ever made’.”

“Ah,” Remus says, finally understanding what all this is about. “You heard about that.” He still wonders what exactly Sirius is so miffed about. That he talked about their previous relationship behind his back? That he hasn't been honest to him about how hung up he still is on him? Or just the fact alone that he is still hung up on him?

Sirius averts his eyes. “I heard Lily and Marlene talk about how that's what you said.”

“I'm sorry,” Remus says. “I shouldn't have talked about our relationship behind your back.”

Sirius’ eyes snap up to Remus’ face. “It's not that you talked, Remus, it's how you talked! A mistake? Like it's something you regret?”

So it is the fact that he regrets the breakup itself that Sirius is angry about. Honestly, Remus can sort of understand. After all, salvaging their friendship afterwards had been hard, even seemed impossible at times, but they managed. And now, when they have finally established some sort of normalcy between them again, Remus suddenly goes and brings up these lingering feelings.

But even though it took Remus a while to admit to himself that breaking up with Sirius had been a mistake, he's never been particularly happy about the breakup, so it really shouldn't affect how things are between them that much.

“It doesn't have to change anything.”

“How can you say that?” Sirius replies. “How can the knowledge that you consider something that still means so much to me a mistake not change anything?” He shakes his head. “You broke my heart, Remus, you know that.” He's simply stating a fact, which supposedly it is. “And yes, sometimes when I look at you, I still feel so much that I wish I could rip my heart out just to stop it from hurting. But when I recall our time together, I recall falling asleep in your sweater with my head in your lap, dancing to our favourite songs in the living room, wrapping my arms around you from behind as you're making your morning tea. Despite the pain, I would not, I could not, call it a mistake.”

Oh.

With Sirius overhearing Lily and Marlene talk about what Remus said, something clearly got lost in translation. Sirius does not know Remus was referring to the breakup being the worst mistake he ever made, not the relationship itself, not Sirius himself.

“So yeah,” Sirius says eventually, his cheeks slightly colouring, as Remus, still processing this new knowledge, stays quiet. “I figured some space would be good.”

There are so many things Remus wants to say all at once, he doesn't know where to start. “I don't want space,” he begins.

“Well, maybe I do!” Sirius snaps. “Damn you, Remus. How much hurt do you think I can take?” He pushes his chair back and gets to his feet. “I care so bloody much about you, you could basically stab me and I would still love you, but I do have a limit, and after being blindsided with the breakup and now you telling people us dating was a mistake, I think I've reached that limit.”

Before Remus can say anything, Sirius turns on his heels and leaves the coffeeshop.

Emotions are swirling through Remus’ body. Sadness and guilt for how much he has hurt Sirius, of course, but also, perhaps misplaced, hope.

‘I still feel so much’

‘I care so bloody much about you’

‘I would still love you’

Maybe the chapter isn't fully closed yet for Sirius either?

Remus jumps to his feet to follow Sirius, but then he realizes they haven't paid for the coffee yet, and he frantically starts patting his pockets for some cash.

“Oh, just leave it!” A voice says from behind, and Remus turns to find the waitress standing there, with her hands on her hips. “Just go! Go after your man! Go!”

Mumbling a quick ‘thank you’ Remus rushes out of the coffeeshop.

“Sirius, wait!”

Remus grabs Sirius’ elbow, and Sirius stops, sighs, and turns around to face him.

“I don't think of you as a mistake,” Remus says. “It's not dating you that I see as the worst mistake of my life, it's breaking up with you.”

Sirius’ eyes widen and his mouth opens in a silent ‘oh’, and, slightly encouraged, Remus takes a step closer to him.

“Sirius,” Remus says softly. “I regret being a cowardly idiot and giving into my fears by breaking up with you before I could somehow mess it up, but I do not, and will never, regret having been with you.” Without thinking, he places a hand on Sirius’ cheek. “I do not regret falling in love with you, and I do not even regret loving you still.”

Sirius blinks at him. “You… You still…”

“Yes.” Remus leans in just a bit and briefly presses his lips to Sirius’.

Like coming home.

Sirius opens and closes his mouth a couple of times before saying “I… I can't get my hopes up if you'll just run the moment things get too real.”

“I won't,” Remus immediately says. “I've learned my lesson, and I will not hurt you again. I hate that I hurt you in the first place, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for that, if you let me. No, scratch that,” he shakes his head. “I'll do that anyway. How I'll do that, that is up to you.”

Sirius hesitates for a moment. “I guess you can make it up to me…” He says, slowly reaching out and placing his hand over Remus’. “By being the best boyfriend I could possibly wish for.”

A smile breaks out on Remus’ face. “You got it, love.”

[luvfy0dor]

"We're gonna be timeless !!" ♡⁠˖ BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Fyodor Dostoevsky, Chuuya Nakahara, Nikolai Gogol

Warning; Spoilers for mersault arc/Fyodors means of communication in his part, soft!Fyodor bc I am goin thru it, relationship intolerance, Nikolais bit isn't in exact correlation w/ the song

Description; Drabbles inspired by Timeless by Taylor Swift

A/N; Writing this while trying to figure out what to do for another fic help I'm so nervous the person isn't gonna like it but we ball 🫡 in Nikolais part I tried avoiding saying balls like it was the plague but yk

Love Letters w/ Fyodor Dostoevsky

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “I would've read your love letters every single night, and prayed to God you'd be comin' home alright”

• His love letters are romantic and very detailed, making sure he conveys exactly how much he misses you. He likes to write you short poems, understanding how much your heart swoons at the sweet and romantic words.

• Fyodor writes to you while he's in Yokohama, telling you how his plans are going and his estimated time of arrival at home. He continues this habit, even when in Mersault. He sends letters to you via the manipulated vampire guards, instructing them to take great care of the thin envelopes.

Scenario !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Your heart beats quickly as you made your way to your mailbox to check for a letter from your lover; already prepared for the slight sadness you'd experience should the small compartment be void of a note, yet still excited for the possibility of receiving one.

You excitedly open the door to the mailbox, grabbing the numerous envelopes that filled it. Sifting through them, you start to loose hope before your eyes land on the slightly sloppy handwriting of your boyfriend. You drop the various other things on the table, including bills and junk mail in order to pry open the letter excitedly. You make sure to do it carefully though as not to rip anything.

Once you've successfully separated the paper from the envelope, you lay down on the couch on your front while giggling excitedly. You unfold the paper and start to read the comforting and familiar handwriting, feeling as though this letter was a warm and sweet hug from the Russian man.

“My dearest, Y/N,

I know I restate the same thoughts in every letter I send to you, but I truly miss you more than anything in the outside world, including my freedom. I am perfectly fine in captivity, but it truly makes my heart ache to be without my love for so long. I hope you are doing well and holding up without me, not because I doubt your individuality, but I know just how much you miss me. It is the same way for me in this prison. Even with Dazais company, my heart doesn't feel nearly as full as it does when you are around, my dear. However, when our plan succeeds, we will get the happily ever after we deserve. As for our plans, they are going as intended currently.

I cannot wait to embrace you again and to feel the reassuring sensation of your breathing against my skin and feel your arms wrapped around me so tightly and lovingly. Though I would have went about my plans regardless of your support or not, I still appreciate you staying and supporting this, although I can only imagine it has caused you much stress. No worries though, my dear, we will prevail in the end no matter the obstacles. In the meantime, here is an excerpt from a poem I memorized many years ago, I feel it may catch your interest and reassure you a bit.

Wait for me, and I’ll be back,

Disregard the fate,

In the morning with my bag,

Should you only wait.

They will hardly understand,

How I could survive.

Waiting me from foreign land,

You have saved my life.

Let them say that it’s too late.

What you feeling tells?

I’ll be back, because you wait

Like nobody else.

Again, I miss you dearly. Just in case I needed to rephrase it, my heart will not rest until you are back in my presence, for I feel our souls are intertwined. I cannot wait to reunite with with you, my love. I will see you soon.

Sincerely, Fyodor Dostoevsky”

Your heart couldn't help but flutter as you held the letter to your chest, having rolled over onto your back. Your face is warm with blush as you smile and laugh. It was beyond you how Fyodor could remember all of the information he knew, as well as numerous languages and poetry, but you certainly weren't complaining. After all, your boyfriends sweet sayings made your day every time without fail. With every letter he sent, you only became more impatient for his return.

Eloping w/ Chuuya Nakahara

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “And run away and left it all behind, you still would've been mine, we would've been timeless”

• Eloping with Chuuyas is such a fulfilling act, especially when you don't have people whispering in your ear about how dangerous it could be.

Scenario !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Romantic relationships with port mafia executives as an outsider or regular civilian were frowned upon in the organization, meaning if you and Chuuya were going to be together, you needed to be sneaky about it. The port mafia had connections all over the city, which really limited your options for dates, but you were both content with just lounging in each other's homes.

You loved leaning against his chest on his couch, a movie playing softly in the background as you both cuddled together. You liked cooking with him in your kitchen, making a mess together while giggling and then having to clean it up together. Every time you would just sit in his arms in your back yard, watching the wind blow the flowers and leaves around, was a memory with Chuuya that you were grateful for.

So, when your lover proposed the idea of elopement to you, you were over the moon. You had always wanted to marry him, youve know that he was your soulmate from the get go. Even in a billion lifetimes, you felt as though you would find each other repeatedly. You said yes, ofcourse, and started planning immediately.

It had gone exactly according to plan, too. The both of you wore rather nice clothing for the actual ceremony, exchanging pretty rings and slipping them on to one anothers fingers. The kiss you shared, the first one of your elopement, was like no other. It felt sweeter with emotion and certainly tasted that way, too, because of Chuuyas cherry chapstick. You held each other's hands tightly as you quickly walked out of the courthouse, getting into the car that had been packed with as many necessary belongings as possible, including but not limited to clothing, legal documents, and money.

Sure, the luxury of a port mafia salary was one that would probably be missed by the both of you, allowing a nicer place to stay and finer wines to drink, but you could live with Chuuya in a rundown shack for all he cared. As long as he was with you, he would be perfectly happy. Chuuya is a romantic at heart under his tougher exterior, only letting bits and pieces of that romanticism slip through the cracks.

Chuuya drove with you down long and winding roads, the both of you deciding to end the day by stargazing while sitting on the trunk of the car. You sat on Chuuyas lap, his face pressed against your back. He drew soft shapes on any part of skin within his reach, even tracing out letters and words, spelling terms of endearment such as "my love".

"You know, I don't doubt one bit that mafia affiliates could be lurkin' around here, but it's much less likely. Something like this would be frowned upon real hard back home, which is why I feel I will never regret this decision." He says, speaking straight from his heart, not caring about vulnerability anymore. He had you, and you would be the very last person to take advantage of such a delicate thing.

A grin tugs at the corner of your lips with enough force to change your facial expression immediately. You leaned back into his touch, your hand caressing his that sat against your abdomen, hugging you closer to him. "I won't ever regret it either. I'll never regret any decision I make for you, my love." You softly murmur, looking up at the stars in the beautiful, blue night sky. The blue night sky filled with glamorous and shiny stars, yet they could never compare to the shimmery glint in Chuuyas eyes every time he came around you. The blue night sky that provided a calming darkness in the world, allowing you to further relax against your, now husband's, body.

"I'll always love you, darlin', I'm so happy I can openly have you now." He speaks quietly against your shoulder, almost whispering. You reach your hand back to gently touch his hair a bit. "Me too, my love. Me too."

Crowded Streets w/ Nikolai Gogol

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “In another life, you still would've turned my head, even if we met on a crowded street in 1944”

• Should you meet Nikolai during one of his street performances and accidentally fall victim to his juggling skills (or lack there of) , he would look forward to seeing you around the town and in the streets again to make up for his fumble with an entertaining mini-show.

Scenario !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Walking through the busy streets, your eyes fell upon a tall man, dressed as a jester while standing on the sidewalk. "A street performer." You simply thought, trying to discreetly glance at him without making eye contact and avoid the make believe obligation to give him money. You noticed that he was juggling, tossing three red balls in the rotational pattern while blabbering on about random things to passersby.

You lowered your head as to not look at him or make eye contact as you started to pass him, before you're head jerks right back up at the loud man's voice saying "watch out!". Right in front of your face was one of the red, foam spheres, kept motionless between two bony, lanky fingers covered in the cloth of the mans red gloves.

"Aw, I'm real sorry, darlin'! That sure was close, wasn't it?" He says, his bright, toothy grin glimmering in the sunlight. You nod, inhaling and steadying your heart rate.

"Yeah, no worries though, it didn't actually hit me." You say, a bit embarrassed by the situation for seemingly no reason. He slinks backwards into a completely upright position. "I wouldn't have let it hit you regardless, sweet cheeks." He says as he creates a portal and tosses his props into the yellow opening. He rests his fingers on his chin while examining you. "You've got quite a lovely complexion! You must be quite popular when it comes to romantic affairs, I'm sure of it." He compliments. The other people bustling by make you topple a bit as their shoulders bump into yours. Nikolai gently grabs your hand and leads you away from the crowd into a more spacious area.

"You're quite handsome if I do say so myself. Especially that scar." You say, pointing at the healed wound. He smiles. "Well thank you, how sweet is that." He excitedly beams. He removes his hat from his head and slightly bows towards you. "I have yet to formally introduce myself, I am Nikolai Gogol." He says, adjusting his posture yet again to be standing straight up. You smile. "Hello, Nikolai. My name is Y/n." You smile with your arms crossed in front of your chest.

"Well then, Y/n, can I ask you if you enjoy quizzes?" He asks, his head tilted, gravity dragging the long braid along with his movements. You furrow your eyebrows a little. "I'm not too fond of the academic ones, if I'm being honest. Silly ones I don't mind." You say with a small shrug of your shoulders. He laughs.

"Perfect! Let me quiz you then, Y/n." He takes your hands in his excitedly. "Are you aware of the difference between a jester and a clown?" He says, his face about the length of a outstretched palms thumb to pinky tip away from yours. You think for a moment before speaking. "Clowns follow a routine, whereas jesters are more spontaneous and satirical, no?" You say, gazing into his eyes, surprising yourself with your eagerness to hear words of confirmation or denial slip from between his crimson painted lips. He pulls back and claps a bit.

"That's right! Marvelous! How smart you are." He says, removing his hat and placing it on top of your head. "Not many people get that right, you know? Many peoples first answer revolves around a jester being a part of a royal court, but that is simply not their differentiating characteristic." He says, patting your shoulder with a grin. You keep eye contact for a couple of seconds before he erupts into a fit of snickers.

"I'm around this area often during the week. You should come see me, I can promise to give you the very best show I can muster." He grins and with that, he is gone through a portal. He has left you there, a bit flustered as you held onto the hat tightly. You suppressed the excitement in your heart before sneaking out into the crowded pathways once again. Maybe you would take him up on that.

[youaremycosmo]

《Too good to be true》 taemin x reader scenario

Taemin as the most-loving-cute-affectionate husband&dad nothing else to add enjoy!

cr. for the photos: Jjakgoongie Word count// 2,051 words Pairing// Taemin x you

Summary// Cute moments with Taemin as parents of newborn baby girl, Taerinnie. (btw Taemin would make endless jokes when you call him Tae, showing with his daughter and asking 'what?' in the same time as they both share the same syllabe in names XD)

Genre// fluff

Warnings// talking about lactation, if you don't like pregnancy/ parenthood scenarios just don't read this ^^

MASTERLIST You stirred in your sleep, absent-mindedly searching for Taemin who was supposed to lay in the bed next to you. He was usually there, that’s why you groaned under your breath and opened your eyes slightly, not feeling the familiar source of warmth next to you.

The bedding on his side was a little messy, which made you push yourself up on your hands, looking around. Light from the corridor streamed into the room through the slightly opened door, making you sure Tae hadn’t gone to the restroom.

You were so tired from getting up every two hours that you just put your head back on the pillow, with strong determination to wait until your husband come back. Then you wanted to just lock him into a bear hug and try to get some rest again. However, Taem didn't show up for a while, which forced you to finally get up from the bed.

You frowned as the light hit your eyes, sensitive from the darkness and took careful steps around the apartment. You catched a glimpse of your daughter’s room, sensing it could be the first place where Taemin went.

Taerinnie was born seven days ago, and your entire lives had been subordinated solely to her from the first moment. Your and Taem’s little sunshine needed a lot of care, which, combined with the exhaustion of pregnancy and childbirth, meant that you felt completely worn out all the time. Not to mention stress from being fledgling parents, afraid of every single thing happening around her.

Taemin, on the other hand, seemed filled with energy like never before. Smile never left his face, no matter how little he slept and how much he took over your household chores. Additionally, he never forgot to take care of you as well, praising you at least a few times a day. It seemed as if the expansion of your little family had practically given him wings, and you weren't surprised at all. As long as you could remember, for Tae there was always the right time to get married and have a baby, although seeing you didn't share his opinion, he never pressured you into anything.

You leaned carefully against the doorstep, noticing Taem sitting in your nursing chair with baby Taerin in his arms. You could only see a fragment of his profile, but clearly observe your little daughter, dressed in cute rompers and wrapped carefully in a light pink blanket. Her eyes, huge and dark, stared constantly at Taemin, and her adorable cheeks moved continuously as she sucked on the pacifier.

- Everything’s fine now, right? - a loving and warm voice broke the silence. - Did you just need a hug? It's okay, mommy and daddy will cuddle you as much as you want - he purred, rocking her delicately.

You smiled tenderly at the sight. There were times where you could see him taking care of children and how well he did it. But when it came to Taerin, he was simply the best dad you could imagine. Tae seemed to have infinite patience and enormous amounts of love, pouring it on his long-awaited daughter at every possible moment.

- We can't wake up mom every time, okay? - his fingertip touched her cute, tiny nose. - Mommy is very tired because she's feeding you and needs some sleep... But daddy can also take care of many things - Taemin’s voice sounded utterly satisfied. - You and I are a good team too - he chuckled softly to himself. You could see his cheeks lift into a smile as he stroked her little face gently, like a porcelain doll’s.

Taerinnie's eyes were becoming heavier and heavier each second, opening with difficulty, but she still listened calmly to what her dad had to tell her.

- How on earth did I deserve an angel like you, hmm? - Tae whispered pensively - I always thought that being with your mommy was like a dream come true, then I couldn't believe that mommy married me, and now… there’s you… I always knew you would be the most beautiful baby in the world, after all, you got it from y/n... She was so pretty when I fell in love with her, but why does she seem more gorgeous every day? - he titled his head a bit.

You felt as your cheeks flushed, and suddenly you felt shy standing there and listening to all of it. Taemin was always full of love, as if it was the first year of your relationship.

- You are like my two princesses... And I’m the one who loves you to death -Taem chuckled under his breath - Do you feel like sleeping already? - he asked, probably noticing how Taerinnie's eyelids finally drooped and her face became completely calm and carefree.

- Sleep well, you have to grow a lot - he pressed his lips on her forehead, observing her tiny body for a longer moment.

You moved away from the door, seeing him rise to put Taerinnie in her cradle. He made sure everything was fine, then turned off the light, carefully leaving the room.

- Oh, are you awake? - he asked, noticing you, obviously surprised.

- I woke up because you weren't in bed - you admitted cutely, walking up to Tae and just cuddling into him tightly.

- Taerinnie cried again - he explained himself and smiled fondly at your gesture, his arms embracing you strongly. - I decided not to wake you up because she didn't need to be fed... And we somehow managed to calm down on our own - Taemin said with satisfaction in his voice, and you glanced at him with a wide smile.

However, your eyes immediately went to the ends of his long hair that curled outwards. You reached for them carefully. - Taeminnie, your wings seem to be showing again - you muttered, teasing him a bit.

- Ah, come on -  he rolled his eyes with pink shade coming to his cheeks. He reached his hands to your thighs and lifted you up. - This baby needs to sleep too - he purred lovingly, carrying you to the bed.

You let him make you comfortable on the pillow and cover you thoroughly with the duvet before he laid down next to you. His arms pulled you completely to him, leaving little space, and you could feel his warm breath near your ear.

Before closing your eyes, you tried to adjust your nursing bra a little, annoyed at having to wear it all the time. You couldn’t help but sighed loudly when you saw a small wet spot on your t-shirt. Actually, it was his piece of pajamas as you loved wearing it to sleep.

- I can't deal with this, really - you mumbled under your breath. You rolled up the fabric and struggled to correct the pads, which allowed you to forget, at least for a moment, about the way your breasts leaked milk at the slightest touch. Your body changes were quite hard for you to accept, maybe because Taemin seemed to be doing better than ever and despite passing years, he was still so handsome and hot.

- I need to change - you decided, trying to get up, but his hands didn’t let you do it, keeping you in place.

- Stay, don’t mind it - Taem asked in a low voice, his thumbs rubbing your side soothingly. - You'll still be getting up to feed Taerin - he added, and the tone of his voice suddenly became more worried. - Is it still the same?

- I think as long as I continue to breastfeed, it’ll look like this - you grumbled, clearly uneasy. - It's just... instead of a wife, you're hugging a cow at this moment - you tried to joke, chuckling hesitantly.

Taemin, however, wasn’t amused. - Don't talk about yourself like that - he chastened you in a serious tone. - You are still the most beautiful woman in the world. The most charming person I know. The sexiest one too - his hand slid slowly to your hip, which had been noticeably more rounder for several months now. - It's just… you smell… sweeter - he murmured affectionately, snuggling closer to you.

You gave him a side glance. - You're weird, you know that? - you cracked up at this unusual compliment. 

Taem raised his head from the pillow, obviously outraged. - I'm just stating a fact, it's not weird - he hissed, lying down again immediately. 

- Like asking if you can try my breast milk, not weird at all - you teased him, closing your eyes. 

- Making sure Taerinnie likes it isn't weird either - Tae replied with confidence, but you could hear a slight laugh in his voice.

A comfortable silence fell between you as you tried to rest, knowing in the back of your mind that you’ll be woken up by crying again in an hour or two.

- I'm sorry -  his thoughtful whisper echoed in your ear, making you gently open your eyes. - I know... it's difficult for you and... well, I was the one who wanted to have a baby of the two of us, and the reality is you're the one who has to deal with everything...

- It was our mutual decision - you interrupted him, speaking without doubt. - You just wanted it earlier, but that doesn't mean you wanted to have a baby more than I did.

- Well, yes... - he sounded inconsolable. - But... I guess… I didn't really know what it would look like... I see how tired you are. I wish I could take at least half of this stuff from you, but I can't…- the tip of his nose rubbed your cheek. 

You decided to pull away slightly to look at him. - You actually do a lot of things to help me - you assured, looking into his concerned eyes. - And I'm grateful, really grateful, because I have your greatest support - you reached your hand to his cheek, stroking it tenderly.

- But... you're so damn tired  - he stated the obvious, biting his upper lip gently.

You smiled fondly and closed the space between yours and Tae’s lips, pecking them sweetly. Currently, you didn't even have the strength to kiss each other more passionately, so your affection was limited only to hugging and rather innocent kisses.

- I'm so damn tired, and I love you both so damn much - you admitted with amusement.

- Hey, how could you say something like that to Taerinnie…? - he groaned indignantly. - What example are you going to give if you swear like that?

You rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath. - Okay, then I love you so damn much, and my love for Taerinnie is immeasurable - you muttered, annoyed by his comment. - Better?

- Better - Taem replied, satisfied with this answer.

- You actually have one task, one thing - you pointed your finger at him.

- What is this? - he stared at you with curious eyes. 

- Just try to look for a younger girl without stretch marks and breasts that don't leak milk all the time, I'll strangle you - you threatened him, and Taemin bursted out into laugh.

- Ah, what are you talking about? - he whined loudly. - They're beautiful... just... - he tried to wrap his hand around them gently, but you hit it.

- No touching - you reminded him.

- No touching - he repeated with a mischievous smile, pecking your cheek.- I… just…  kind of look forward to having them back…

You rubbed your eyelids with your fingers, trying not to laugh.

- Not only are you an idiot, you're also perverted - you commented, glancing at him again.

- Pff, if I weren't perverted, you wouldn't have such a little cute daughter  - he kissed the side of your head a few times and corrected himself on the pillow. - I love you…- he murmured, making sure it came out as loveable as it could.

- I love you too - you answered tiredly, slowly falling asleep in the safest embrace of this world.

[heathersdesk]

My grandfather was killed in a hit and run accident in 1978.

His mother and sister struggled with life after that. They decided to go on a trip across the United States together to get away from things for a while.

I discovered this trip when I was going through photo albums and suddenly saw a place I recognized.

The Salt Lake Temple.

They went to many places during that trip. But there was something truly special to me that, in one of the worst seasons of their lives, they ended up at the temple.

I served part of my mission at Temple Square. I was waiting for a visa to Brazil that I began to think was never coming. I had a truly horrendous time in the MTC babysitting a district of Elders who spent weeks on end bullying me and tearing down my self-esteem. I was told directly by someone, I forget who now, that I was being sent there to recover. And when I realized that the mission had no young Elders in it at all, that it was only Sisters and senior couples, I came to appreciate what that meant.

I had so many wild interactions there with so many people. Some of them were strange, like the guy who viewed the Book of Mormon as proof of alien interactions with humans. There were moments of heartbreak, like the woman who was in tears at the Christus statue who attacked us when we checked in on her. There were moments of pure delight, like when an LDS family with two young daughters came to that same Christus statue. The oldest girl, no older than 4 or 5, squealed "JESUS" and ran to the Savior's feet, little sister in tow. Whenever I hear someone mention the teaching to become as a little child, she is exactly who I think of.

There were also moments that were meant solely for me, like when I met the first Sister to ever be called to the Boston mission I had hoped to go to to wait for my visa. Boston has a large Brazilian population, many of whom are members of the Church. I had begged in prayer to be sent there and was told by other people it wouldn't happen because "Sisters don't go there." I had an entire conversation with the woman who was going to be that change. It seemed cruel to me at the time, dangling the carrot of something I wanted right in front of my face. In time, I've realized it was so I would remember that God does miracles and is aware of the desires of my heart, even if it means I don't get what I want. Someone needed to exercise enough faith to push that door open for women. I put my full weight behind it, and I can be just as proud that it opened for someone else.

But some of my favorite people I met there were people who just made me laugh. I met a Jewish convert from New York who told us his conversion story, how what drew him in was the Plan of Salvation. He summarized it in a New York accent in a voice I can still hear in my mind: "So you're a god, eventually. But can you pay RENT?!"

One of my favorite people I met was a Scottish convert named Agnes who was doing the Mormon trail across the US, beginning in New England and ending in Utah. She was a much older woman and told us all about her pilgrimage, and how she had cuddled with the oxen at the baptismal font in the Manhattan New York Temple. (I've been there. You enter into the baptistry on face level with them, or did the last time I was there.) She shared her testimony with us, and I'll never forget what she said.

She explained that the story of Joseph Smith was really hard to get her mind around. It truly is an insane set of asks: angels, gold plates, polygamy, and all the rest. She talked about how she came to accept it—not through any kind of empirical evidence or proof, but through faith and what that looked like.

For her, it was the recognition that being LDS was the best way she had ever encountered to live an excellent life. She said that the worst case scenario she could imagine is one where God would say to her, "You know that whole business with Joseph Smith was a load of crock, right? But you lived such a good life, I have to let you in anyway."

That has always stayed with me. Agnes was one of many people who came to the Square looking for something. I saw people come there looking for faith, or a fight, and truly everything in between. And it's only now that I'm older and wiser that I see something clearly now that I couldn't see then.

Agnes didn't need to come to Temple Square to find faith. She already had a tremendous amount of faith. She, and many others, were looking for conviction. I was at Temple Square long enough to learn you don't get that from a place. While a place like Temple Square can illuminate the possibilities for conviction through the lens of history, it doesn't bestow that conviction through contact or proximity alone. Conviction is made from the materials of your own life and your own choices. Your will, how firmly you place yourself into an immovable and unyielding position, is the measure of your convictions. It comes from within.

Faith is the decision to believe in what you cannot see, and what cannot be proven objectively. That never goes away. Nothing we experience in life, no place we ever visit, will create a shortcut under, over, or around that decision to believe, to trust in God. Faith, at its core, is a decision. The ability to continue making that decision over and over again, under all species of hardship and opposition, is conviction.

Where Jesus walked is nowhere near as important as how Jesus walked, and with whom. The same is true for all of us. Our walk with God might never take us anywhere near a temple because of where God has called us to go. But we are the holiest dwelling places of God on earth—not any of the buildings we've made.

Be a holy place of living faith wherever you are, whatever your circumstances may be. Worship God, no matter what places you can or cannot enter. There is more than one way to access a temple. One way is to enter a place that people invite God to dwell. The other is to become that place. There can be no separation from God where communion never ceases. It is the refuge that is unassailable by others for as long as the person wills it so. The torch within will not go out.

The temple is not special because it has some holy essence that springs forth out of nothing, to passively be absorbed by others. The temple is special because it directs people to Jesus Christ, who is the giver of healing and peace. The temple is just a building. It's Jesus Christ that is the true power behind it all, whose objective is to make you, me, and every person you know the holiest creature you've ever beheld. You are the end goal.

[herofics]

Could you please do a class 1a x reader one-shot where the reader is turned into a nomu?

A/N: Since you wanted so many characters aka all of class-A I did HCs because like 20 characters is really hard to manage in one scene. And even though I went with HCs, I still didn’t do the whole class, probably more like a bit under half. If you want like more of a reaction to the reader's death, this post has something like that

•You disappeared during your first internship after the sports festival

•You were in Hosu, and during the chaos with the hero killer, you got snatched

•Garaki wanted people with unique, strong and useful quirks, and you happened to fit those criteria

•The class was obviously pretty messed up about losing one of their own

•Todoroki, Midoriya and Iida were feeling guilty, because they were in Hosu too and they felt like they should’ve done something

•You weren’t near the Nomu action, but they still felt like they should’ve been able to stop it from happening

•The weeks rolled by, and the training camp started, there were still no signs of what had happened to you, and no one was particularly hopeful, they wanted to believe you were fine, but that seemed unlikely

•After Bakugou was rescued, the Nomus that were left in the facility, were taken away and studied

•They of course made the horrific discovery of how the Nomus were made, and they found that you had been turned into one as well

•It wasn’t just that your quirk had been taken, oh no, you were the basis for the Nomu, so you were dead

•The class of course did not take this news very well, especially the ones that had been in Hosu when you had disappeared

•The ones that had gone to rescue Bakugou of course couldn’t have done anything either, since you had already been dead for a while

•Like they don’t have enough trauma already, losing one of their own like this definitely didn’t help anyone in the class

•For a lot of the class, it made them work harder and go beyond their limits, because they wanted to make sure they would be ready to protect each other and whoever may need it

•Some of them, such as Midoriya, who was the tendency to overthink a lot, kinda catastrophized about how you’d died and what had happened to you before that

•He didn’t share his thoughts with anyone, because he didn’t want to upset anyone any more than they already were

•A lot of the class actually came up with a lot of pretty horrifying scenarios about what you’d gone through, but none of them shared them with each other

•Kaminari probably had the worst nightmares about it, he has a bit of an overactive imagination

•Yaomomo tried to be a bit of a therapist to everyone after you passed, but the class didn’t talk that much as a whole group

•Uraraka, Asui, Midoriya and Iida talked amongst each other, so did the Bakusquad

•The whole class knew the general feelings of each other, but the more in depth conversations were reserved for their closest friends

•Todoroki didn’t really want to talk to anyone, same with Tokoyami, but they actually ended up talking to each other a bit, neither of them is very talkative, but still

•Jirou and Mina kinda freaked out the first few times that they couldn’t find someone they were looking for, because it was an instant flashback to when they found out you had gone missing

•The whole class supported each other, but there was still a bit of a dark cloud looming over them

•If this could happen to you, what if one of them was next?

[one-idea]

Hello… I just found your blog, and after reading some of your work, I decided to send you this idea, to know what you think…

It takes place on the Mobi Dick, before Blackbeard's takeover…

FemAce is sick, to the point that she has vomited on more than one occasion, they end up putting her on light duty and with restrictions on certain foods until further notice…

Well, it turns out that between gossip and misunderstandings, the rumor that FemAce is pregnant is spread… and then someone comments that they saw her arguing with a blond revolutionary with a top hat…

So a group of crazy Whitebeard pirates end up starting a war against the Rev because one of them got pregnant and left his little sister…

…… Or how due to lack of communication the pirates declare war on the revolutionaries, when their 2nd commander got sick to his stomach a couple of weeks after discovering that his older brother Sabo is alive and He is an amnesiac revolutionary.

Okay I am a sucker for a good gender bender. I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea but I’ve always had a soft spot for it when done right.

I love this idea.

Because Ace went on a mission and ran into Sabo. Her brother who she’s though was dead for nine years (let’s they are 19 in this and it’s a year before the canon begins)

Obviously she is distraught. Even more so when she tries to talk to him and he doesn’t remember her. They get into a small fight because she’s desperate for him to remember and he’s there like “who is this crazy pirate??”

He slips away from her (he is a super secret spy) and Ace is heart broken. She’s lost her brother again. She has no idea where he is. She looked but she has to return to the Moby.

When she gets there she’s super upset. She won’t talk to anyone, and locks herself in her room. She’s barely eating and what she does eat she can’t keep down. She’s making herself sick over her thoughts on Sabo. Did he truly forget them? Was it just her? Was she not good enough to remember? Was he happier without her around? She’s making herself miserable with all her spiraling what ifs.

The crew is worried. Ace is normally a ball of energy, till she passes out. It’s not like their little sister to mope in her room. She hasn’t done that since she officially joined the crew. The Ex-Spade members are super worried as are Thatch, Marcos, and Haruta.

Ace isn’t letting any of them in. She’s not letting Marcos, Deuce, or any of the medic staff look her over. They know she’s sick so they put her on light duty.

But with a ship as big as that rumors are bound to start. You’ve got a young, beautiful woman, who has left home completely alone, and comes back heart broken. She’s also getting sick all the time. She can’t keep any food down and she’s avoiding the medical team like the plague. Could it be? Is she?

Rumors start.

And with rumors comes speculation. Marco wants to crush this so he sends some people he trusts to go talk to the people on the island where Ace’s last mission was. He’s expecting the report to come back with “there’s a virus sweeping through the island with the same symptoms.” Or something like that. Something that would allow them to take action to help Ace and also squash the rumors about her.

Imagine his surprise when the scouts come back with reports about how Ace was seen with a Blond haired Revolutionary. That she kept chasing after him and the two got into many verbal disagreements. That Ace, their darling little sister, was alone for mutiple days with this boy. And now she’s sick and heartbroken.

Best case scenario, she had a crush and he broke her heart. The Whitebeard pirates will break his bones if that’s the case.

Worst case scenario… Marco needs to talk to Ace.

The investigation does the opposite of quelling the rumors. They are more rampant than ever. And know they have a face to go with them. And an organization.

Marco is trying to figure out how to best approach Ace to ask these invasive questions.

The crew (mainly lead by Thatch, Haruta, Izou, and made of former spade pirates and division 2 members) are planning how they are going to find this revolutionary.

Deuce is the only sensible one here as he tries his best to get his friend to talk to him. He can tell she’s hurting and Ace has never been good with trusting people with her pain. But he’s known her the longest. He was her first mate. If anyone can get her to talk it’s him.

This is mostly him bringing her light meals and sitting outside her door waiting for her to open up in her own time. He’s heard the rumors and they upset him on many levels. One he hates them talking trash about Ace. Two he might still have the biggest crush on his ex-captain. He’s not expecting it to go anywhere or to ‘win her love by being the nice guy’ he’s got a crush but her friendship is more than enough. That doesn’t mean he’s not going to be furious and protective of his friend if someone knocked her up and then abandoned her (I will make everything AceDeuce if you let me. My boy just needs to tell her his feelings)

Meanwhile…

Sabo is having his own mental breakdown because the girl he met won’t leave his mind. He starts doing research and finally his memories snap back into place. And holy crap!!! He has a sister! He has siblings!!

This realization comes just in time for him to start looking for Ace and to run into some very upset Whitebeard pirates.

“I’m looking for Portgas D. Ace!” These are Ace’s crew mates! He’s about to see her again. He can apologize for not remembering her and they can have the reunion they should have. and then he can ask her about Luffy.

The Whitebeard pirates look at this blond haired boy. “You’re a revolutionary aren’t you?”

Sabo normally wouldn’t admit to that but maybe Ace told them about him. If it gets him to his sister faster than… “Yes I-”

That’s all he gets out before getting punched in the face. The fight is on. Sabo is so confused. The revolutionary army has no arguments with the Whitebeard’s. But they are yelling at him for “getting their little sister pregnant.” Which what???? He’s so confused right now. He’d remember that. Wouldn’t he?

So know you have Sabo running from the Whitebeard Pirates while also trying to sneak on to their ship. And Ace who’s just living in her own world completely unaware about the rumors and Sabo’s many near death experiences. Until he finally gets on the ship. He sees her walking and calls out. Ace turns and see him. She’s so happy to see him, and he recognizes her this time! “Sabo!” She starts to run towards him when he gets tackled by about 5 crew members. “What are you doing?” Because what is going on?

The crew are yelling about this being the guy who broke her heart. Which like yes but not the way you think. And then some fool yells something about Sabo being the father. And now both Ace and Sabo are dumbfounded because “that’s my sister/brother”

All in all a weird month or two for the Whitebeard pirates. Their hearts are in the right place but they need to fact check thing before they jump people

[puckinghischier]

A (kinda) open love letter to hockey

i don’t really know why, but i just have this urge to articulate some of the thoughts swirling in my brain this week. about how much i love the game, the atmosphere, the presence, the players, and everything else surrounding this sport.

i didn’t grow up around hockey, football being the most loved sport in my corner of the world. and honestly, i saw hockey as a ‘filler’ sport most of the time, no one ever really talking about it or watching it. it was just there. always browsing channels and seeing a game on, but never once giving it a second glance.

and i’ll be so totally transparent, the hockey romance books on tik tok are what got me, not a genuine love for the sport itself. i only started watching because i wanted to understand the lingo used and scenarios explained in the books.

i kept seeing all of these tik toks about various players, halfway paying attention and only really commenting on how attractive they were. but then, i really started watching them. i started seeing the personalities peek through each media post, how each one plays the game in their own way, the friendship among the players on and off the ice.

of course, i went through a couple different teams and ‘typical’ duos before settling on my team (the devils, duh). i actually remember scrolling through tumblr, seeing this random man keep popping up on my timeline, not understand why people kept talking about him or where he came from. and lo and behold, imagine my surprise when i saw nico’s face on the devils roster, my mystery man finally identified.

and all the time i’m asked by those around me (mostly the men) “what in the world got you so into hockey? and a team from new jersey at that?”

of course, no matter my response they all just assume it’s because of their looks, but how do you explain the abundance of feminine love and comfort that sits within you for a sports team of grown men, to a man? so i just laugh and go on, telling them i just liked the ‘good vibes’ of their social media videos.

but they won’t ever get it.

they don’t see the way i look forward to coming home from work every day during the season to watch a game. whether the day was good, or bad, or just okay. i know that there’s always that one good thing to be excited about. win or lose.

they don’t see the joy i experience when they win. i always celebrate in some way, even when i’m alone in my bedroom. a little victory dance, an air high five to my tv (if you read this no you didn’t 💔), a text to one of the various friends this sport has brought me.

but of course, they don’t see the friends i’ve gained from hockey. i know there’s some taboo-ness surrounding the idea of friends on the internet, but what else are you supposed to do when you were a teenage girl in the 2010s, where social media was everyone’s main source of communication (and still is). the world is so much more joyous when you can bond with strangers over common interests, no matter where you’re placed in the world. and duh, we all have common sense and know when someone isn’t who they say they are. we are professionals at this, after all.

they choose not to see the depth and layers to sports that so many of us are able to see. they don’t understand that sports aren’t a just a collection of wins and losses. they’re not just a database of stats. they’re these players lives. it’s something these people have worked so hard for —sacrificed for— since they were kids. they don’t hold the same compassion that we do for bad days or bad plays.

they don’t see the appeal of liking multiple teams, not understanding the joy in the fact that each team has something different to offer. it’s always black and white to them. you like one team, and hate all the rest. but, where’s the joy? where’s the joy missed out on in being able to discover and study a whole new roster? where’s the joy in only consuming content about one team? cause me personally, i find a lot of joy in witnessing the nuances of a team other than my own. i find joy in learning the history and traditions of different fanbases.

they don’t see the way that this sport has carried me through the first major loss of my adult life. the fact that when everything felt so wrong and dismal, the only thing to put a smile on my face was this silly game with its silly guys. it was something to be excited about on a day full of goodbyes and grieving. it was a distraction from the reality of the world around me.

so yeah, i’m sure when they see that i’m suddenly obsessed with a sport with large, fit men, they’re gonna chalk it up to the fact i just like looking at them. but they don’t see everything i see when i look at the sport of hockey as a whole.

and maybe i’m just being dramatic and too caught up in my own head, but there was something in me that just needed to write this down. organize it. and maybe you don’t care, but maybe you do.

but my love letter to hockey will always be ongoing, incomplete, and open-ended. because there’ll always be a new season to watch, new players to show love. i will always find new things to love about the sport, every game watched peeling back another layer to be observed.

but for today, i’ll go through and scroll on social media, consuming all the content i can while waiting for the game tonight. then i’ll put on my jersey, sit in my room, and watch. i’ll enter that bubble once again and live in a world only consumed by hockey for a few hours. and when the game is over, win or lose, i’ll carry the joy and comfort of the game with me into whatever tomorrow brings, ready to do it all over again.