#other than the others..I never really thought anyone would like me..
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Can’t stop thinking the tall horror men of homicipher. I’m like 5ft something, so I know damn well these men tower over me…am I discovering something? Maybe 👀👀👀but I know I ain’t alone. TRUE STORY: Also there was this guy that came into my place of work moths ago with his family and he was TALL, bending down to get through the doorframe TALL but he was lovely.
So how do I imagine these boy would react if they see that you’re clearly ogling them for how tall they were.
Mr crawling
Given the fact that you’ve only seen him stand once, it was enough to have your jaw dropping to the floor. He was taller than the fucking doorway that he had to manoeuvre himself under it, and suddenly you’ve forgotten that you were being kidnapped by Mr Stitch, too intrigued by his height and now understanding why he had lied to you about his ability to stand.
He thought he would scare you but in fact made you feel the complete opposite, you loved how tall he was and you couldn’t get it out of your head, even when he’s back on his hands and knees to comfort you. The illusion had worn off and now you wanted to see him tall all the time, but you didn’t want to pressure him into doing so unless he felt comfortable.
‘You’re tall, really tall.’ You said in awe as Mr crawling coddled you against his chest.
‘Scared?’ He asked as though he was fearing your answer, which broke your heart as you nuzzled your face against his shoulder in an attempt of comfort.
‘No, handsome.’ You replied as Mr Crawling made chirps and purrs of happiness as he held you closer to him.
While he’s still not fond on standing to his full height, the fear of his intimating stature would chase you away one day embedded in his heavily, he would find some comfort in knowing that you loved his tall stature and love you even more for not forcing him to do something he clearly was uncomfortable with; preferring to shower him in kisses and remind him that whether he’s standing or on his hands and knees you loved him regardless.
Mr silvair
The man can feel your eyes on his back constantly. He knows he’s taller than most but the way you looked and admired his full height like you wouldn’t be able to anymore.
He wonders whether this was something only you seemed to have or whether other humans also felt possessed by the need to gawk at people above a certain height. Or was it just you that has this particular expression upon seeing his tall stature in general.
He would take notes of how his height seemingly did something to you that then triggered a chemical reaction within your brain to make you find his height appealing and possibly a requirement in finding your perfect romantic partner.
Or more specifically people of similar height to Mr Silvair himself or anyone close enough to his height to qualify. Mr Silvair soon deduced that you liked the domineering presence of someone much bigger than you, someone who’s able to drag you wherever as though you were nothing but weightless to them, almost like a ragdoll.
He’d soon find that this is in most cases considered a kink amongst you humans who found the height difference between partner rather erotic.
Mr Scarletella
Finds your content ogling of him flattering and thinks that it means that you were finally, finally reciprocating his obsession with you for your own obsession with him.
He’s another one who takes note of how you like how tall he is in comparison to you, always looking at him whenever he was entering the room, eyes widening when you see him having to bed down to get through the doorway, and your eyes never leave him even as he’s walking towards you; seemingly getting taller with each step until he’s in front of you and you’re looking at him in awe and hitched breath.
He’s obsessed with your expression each and every time and uses his height to his advantage. Such as doing things like putting his hand above your head and on the wall, looking down at you with those obsessive eyes of his as his smile seemed to widen upon hearing your breath hitch and eyes widen once more.
His height continued to elicit a reaction out of you that Mr Scarletella loved and adored and wanted to see more of in the future.
Mr Hood
Finds your constant ogling of his height interesting.
He didn’t know why you were so surprised he’s this tall, he’s been with you this entire time and it was only recently did your mind seemed to inform you of your Incredibly stark height difference, and bam! Suddenly he’s the subject of your constant staring and ogling as though it would be the last thing you did.
It was humorous to say the least and will earn you some head pats and cheek caresses that has you leaning towards his comforting and gentle touches.
It wasn’t something that you hide from him as half of the time you didn’t realise you were doing it until Mr Hood pointed it out with curiosity, meanwhile your left flustered as your mind held certain thoughts towards his legs, thighs and large hands.
Poor Mr Hood, he understood to some extent but after a certain point it’s better to explain to him that you find his height rather appealing to you in more ways than one.
#homicipher#homicipher x reader#homicipher x you#homicipher imagine#homicipher imagines#mr crawling#mr crawling x reader#mr crawling x you#mr crawling x y/n#mr crawling imagine#mr crawling imagines#mr scarletella#mr scarletella x reader#mr scarletella x you#mr scarletella imagine#mr scarletella imagines#mr silvair#mr silvair x reader#mr silvair x you#mr silvair imagine#mr silvair imagines#mr hood#mr hood x reader#mr hood x you#mr hood imagine#mr hood imagines
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Arcane imagine.
arcane characters react to you confessing your feelings to them.
characters included: Mel medarda, Caitlyn, vi, jinx, sevika
warnings: mutual pinning, yearning, fluff, slight angst, happy ending, implied smut, flirting, kissing, yeah .
Mel medarda;
You've been crushing on Mel for the longest time, you don't even know when it started, as you two have known each other for a while now, you both were kinda friends, you were never really sure, but you always felt so close to her
She had felt the same, she liked sticking by your side, hearing about your day, your projects, what you are thinking, anything, she loved listening to you talk
It was the one thing that made her day better, and seeing your face of course
It happened so suddenly, these feelings you'd never expect just came to you, Mel was just there, and you fell in love
Not that anyone could blame you, really, she's a goddess
you always wondered why on earth she'd spend time with you, someone so beautiful, so perfect, that you can't help but always admire, no matter the time and place
When you're anxious, you think of Mel, she makes everything better
When you're alone, you think of Mel
When you're with mel, you think of her
When you spot a pretty flower, you think of Mel
One time, you unintentionally picked a couple of flowers, making them look all pretty as you practically skipped your way to where Mel would be. But she wasn't alone, jayce was there, another boy she was working with
You thought they looked close, and you started to back away from them, your heart sinking, you felt your throat get tight, god, you felt so stupid, of course she would like a man like jayce, why would she ever like you? You were always just going to be her friend
Later that same day, it had turned to night, you spent the rest of the day in bed, ignoring everything and everyone, you were hurt, confused, annoyed with yourself
You just wanted it all to go away
When you heard a knock at your door, and your eyes widened, you looked up, you were about to tell them to go away, whoever it was, that's when you heard a familiar voice
"hey, it's me."
It was Mel's.
You wanted so badly to ignore her, for her to just walk away, but you knew she wasn't going to do that, you closed your eyes and signed, eventually getting up as you walked towards the door and opened it for her
"what do you want? I'm trying to sleep..." You said, hating how you sounded speaking to her. You watched the way Mel frowned, how she looked so worried, her hand reached out and you flinched, she didn't show how much that saddend her.
"you didn't join me for dinner, I was worried. I had came to check on you, oh! I should tell you on what Jayce and I have been up to so far-"
You shook your head, turning away as your back faced her, "I don't wanna hear about him."
That was all Mel needed to hear.
She smiled, stepping closer to you as she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in, you tried to protect but nothing came out and she wasn't letting you go anyways
There was no point
"tell me what's wrong, I know what you're like when you try and push others away, don't do that to me, please" she murmured, her voice soft and calming in your ears as you stared at the ground
you felt your eyes water
"I like you, Mel" you sniffled, you were ready for her to leave, for your friendship to be over. "I've always liked you Mel, more than how friends should like one another, I just I was so scared. But then I saw you with Jayce, and I got jealous, I grew distant, because I couldn't face you, I couldn't look at you in the eyes the same, knowing that he can be better for you than I could ever be."
For a moment, you didn't hear anything, you still heard her breathing from behind you as your heart thumped loudly in your chest.
Then she forced you to turn around and look into her eyes as her hand grabbed your chin, "you mean more to me than anyone could ever be, Why would you think such things?, you're more than my friend, you're my love, my laughter, my everything, this is all I ever wanted to hear from you" Mel said, she smiled so brightly, she looked gorgeous, you wanted to kiss her
You caressed her cheek with her hand, "can... Can I?" You were hesitant to ask, she chuckled, crashing her lips against yours, you melted into the kiss, wanting to stay here forever and ever, she tasted like strawberries and honey, you never wanted to get rid of that taste
Caitlyn;
Caitlyn knew there was something off about you the moment you stopped talking to her as much like you usually would
She found it strange, so unlike you, she looked forward to seeing you whenever she could and hear your voice
But as of lately, she's been alone and missing a certain someone, you
She's been talking to Jayce and wondering what to do and how she can help you if there is anything going on, she'd want to help, she was your friend, your best friend even
So it hurt her when you suddenly stopped hanging out with her
She couldn't stop thinking about you, if she had done anything to cause this, she was freaking herself out
She had even gone to Viktor and ask for his advice, he was sort of helpful, but it wasn't like he was cupid and had the best advice for crushing on your friend
Caitlyn missed you, a lot
She went to your place to find you, surprisingly, you weren't there, she looked at the library, she didn't see you, eventually, she did find you, sitting outside by a tree, you looked so pretty, she couldn't help but admire, she ran up to you, excited, she needed to be around you again
"Cait?..." You said, looking surprised, she wasn't sure why you would be, she didn't say anything and just hugged you tightly
You hugged her back
"where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you, you had me worried" Caitlyn's words came out rushed, you smiled at her.
"can you sit with me?" You asked.
She happily did.
"what's going on? Did something happen?-"
"Cait, let me speak."
You had cut her off before she could even finish asking more, she immediately shut up, she knew you needed to take your time to gather your words, she wanted to touch you again, but she restrained herself
"there's been a lot on my mind, that's why I haven't seen you, but I need to tell you something" you said, she can see the way you were fidgeting with your fingers, a thing you do when you're nervous, then you just randomly stood up, pacing back and forth.
"whatever you have to tell me won't be that bad-" Caitlyn tried to reassure, still you didn't listen
"I like you" you shouted at her, she blinked.
"you what?" She muttered, still processing your words
"I know this was a bad idea to tell you how I really felt, but I had to, I couldn't not tell you, I really fucking like you, Caitlyn" you said, it almost looked like you were on the verge of tears
Caitlyn stood up, you stared up at her expecting the worst, but then she cupped your face and kissed you
That alone told you enough of what she really meant, as you kissed her back, smiling
Vi;
You have always liked Vi for as long as you've known her, that wasn't anything new, anyone who's ever met you knows about your crush on her, except for one person, Vi
She's always claimed not to be an oblivious person, but people who know her also know that's obvious to see from a mile away
Vi has always been a good friend to you, more than anyone has ever been
Ekko, one of your other friends, has been telling you to confess your crush to Vi for years, yeah, it's not something that's new, you two have known each other for ages, Ekko has been through it all witnessing it, and he just wants you to tell her already
"Ekko, I don't know. I don't wanna ruin what I have with her" you muttered, the two of you were hanging out one night, catching up over snacks and games, you hear him chuckle
"you won't, trust me. I wouldn't be telling you to do this if I wasn't sure."
He was right about that. You've always trusted Ekko no matter what it is, he's always had a good heart
and almost most of the time he was always right
Just maybe things will go okay, if you told Vi how you really feel, she won't stop being your friend, but the fact that everyone else can see your crush on her except for her you just weren't sure
Even when you think you know her, you still can't wrap your head around her
You had planned to tell her this Friday night, where you know she'd always meet at your hangout spot, you wanted to make it look pretty, make it feel special, also it was an excuse to distract yourself from what tonight was actually for
Ekko had helped picked out the music, Vi has always liked metal and punk rock, you were sure in another lifetime she would be in a band
you had gotten the snacks, her favorites and yours, including the drinks and the gift you wanted to give her, you've set up a blanket and pillows down for you both
Your heart felt like it was beating so hard it could rip out of your chest any minute
You checked the time and your eyes widened, she was going to be here any second, fuck
You tried to stop pacing around, before you knew it she had arrived right on time, she greeted you with a smile and immediately hugged you, your cheeks warmed as you hugged her back, god you missed her so much
"what's the special occasion?" She asks with a raised eyebrow, biting her cherry as she laid down onto the blankets. "Everything looks so nice, and you got me my favorites? You spoil me."
You smiled, sitting down with her as you contemplated even telling her how you really felt, with how pretty she looks right now, you so badly wanted to kiss her
"I may have something" you said, finally able to get your words together. "Actually yes, I need to tell you something, vi" you hated how you were stuttering, you bit down on your bottom lip as you avoided her gaze.
"what's up, angel?" She said with a grin, she's always called you that, it's been her personal nickname made for you, it's always made you flustered
"Vi, I like... " You paused, trying to actually look into her eyes without looking away, "I like you."
Vi smiled, she looked like she didn't get it at first
"I like you to, angel" she chuckled.
You shake your head.
"no, vi, I actually like like you, I wanna be your girlfriend."
God you couldn't believe you actually told her
you waited for her to reject you, to just stand up and leave, but she didn't do any of that, instead Vi pulled you in closer, pressing her lips to yours as she kissed you hard, you gasped into her mouth, processing whats happening, that she's kissing you, her lips feel so soft against your own, your hand reached up to cup her face
She pulled away, letting you two have a moment to catch your breath as you felt ecstatic, "vi..."
"I've always liked you too, I'm glad you told me. I was actually planning on telling you myself, I didn't know when but you bet me to it, I'm glad you did, because this was the best, it was perfect."
You smiled, leaning in as your nose brushed against hers, she grabbed you by the shirt, making you fall into her as the night was not over just yet
Jinx;
Jinx had always been by your side for as long as you've known her, you have always been by hers, and she's always been by yours, that's just how you two were, when you met, it was an instant click, it was rare for jinx to experience that, so she kept you by for as long as she can
She loves everything about you, your entire personality, how no matter what you always make her day better, you were different, you meant a lot to her
She meant a lot to you as well
More than she'd ever know
Despite all that was happening, what you two have been through, you have always defended her, even when you didn't have to
She appreciates that, even if she doesn't tell you herself
It's like you somehow knew
She needed you, when Vi left, she needed you the most
You were one of the very few that stuck around, and you weren't going anywhere anytime soon
Jinx notices something was up when you weren't showing up to her place like you'd usually be, you were always around, as of late, she didn't see much of you
She wondered why
Did she do something wrong? Are you finally realizing you're better off without her?
No, she couldn't think like that
She was able to easily find you again, you were standing by yourself on an edge, she was concerned, extremely worried, she was so happy to see you again, but she knew she shouldn't rush you
"hey" you said, she didn't even say anything yet you knew she was here
"hi" she smiled, "what are you doing out here? It's cold" she starts to take off her jacket, she always gave you something to wear even if you don't need it right then
You let her put it on
You've always looked so pretty in her clothes
"you know, you'd be a good model, definitely have the body for it" she chuckles with a grin, unable to keep her eyes off you. She saw the way you looked down, how you smiled, she felt proud of that, a little bit cocky too. "You okay? You wanna tell me what's up? You've been avoiding me. You know how I am when people try to ignore me" she couldn't help but pout.
You turn to face her, finally looking at her, she smiles at the sight of you. "I know, I'm sorry about that, a lot has been on my mind. Jinx, there's something I have to tell you, I can't hide it anymore."
She frowned, unsure of what you meant, were you planning on leaving her? Moving away forever? Was she not going to be able to see you ever again? So many thoughts clouded her
But what you told her was nothing she was expecting
"I like you, Jinx, for so long, I've liked you, and no, not in the platonic way, yes, that too, I mean you've meant something more to me for a long time" you said, staring into her gaze as her mouth hangs open, you what?
She rushes to you, wrapping her arms around you tightly as she feels like she could almost cry, good tears this time, her heart was beating so fast she laughed loudly
"why didn't you tell me sooner?" She grinned, cupping your face with both of her hands like you were her entire world, you are, you've always been. "I've liked you since forever, idiot, jeez, finally one of us came clean about it. I was gonna make a dramatic reveal to you but this was so you. I like it. I really like you too. A lot. Please be mine."
And you happily did, you kissed her, that night was the best night of your lives.
Sevika;
Sevika wasn't an easy woman to read, some people have found it hard to even get under her skin, find out what makes her tick, what makes her squirm, loose balance
But you'd be a fool to test her
Then again, you were always known to be a foolish one
When people see you two together, they can't see it, you were brighter, much bubbly, always smiling then there was Sevika, scary, intimating, will kill you with one look
You two were total opposites, no one could understand how you worked so well together
But you just made it work
You were the book smart to Sevika's street smart, which is why silco partnered you with his most trusted a lot, she couldn't exactly argue with it at first, she still did, complaining about having to babysit you, despite the fact that she wasn't that much older than you anyways
Okay, maybe by a few years older, but you didn't need a god damn babysitter
She knew how to piss you off, and you knew how to annoy her as well
It went back and forth, at first, you two fought a lot,there were a lot of misunderstandings, people were even nervous to get in between you both, you two were just so loud about everything that only silco can shut you both up
Eventually, after a while, a long while, things started to settle, and Sevika understood why silco picked you
She knew he wouldn't pick any random person, he had his reasons
Then something weird started to happen, she grew more protective over you, sure, she knew she was already protective of those she cared most, but you, she wasn't sure about, it just happened all of a sudden, if anyone was bothering you, hell, if anyone tried to hurt you, hell would be unleashed
Jinx would always mock her of how much she protects you and will do anything for you, Sevika tries to fight it, her stubbornness winning, but as soon as she sees you, her walls are being cut down, forced to let you see her, as she watches you from afar, admiring your work and talents, how much dedication and time you put into things, she's actually impressed by you
The first time she ever complimented you had you feeling all giddy for weeks, months even, you wanted nothing more than to be praised by her again
Jinx was over it
How much you talked about her, how pretty she is, she'd literally gagged at how love sick you were about her, she was so tempted to shove you both in a closet to hurry the hell up and get it over with
But she knew sevika would kill her
Then again, she's reached a point where she couldn't care less
When Jinx was able to get you two alone together to finally actually talk things out, she did, she was gonna make it work, even if she had to be dramatic and pull a little strings
She would live with the fact that Sevika was gonna be pissed at her for a long time, possibly forever if this goes terribly wrong, but she doubts it would
It was a late Saturday night, everyone was still awake and hanging around, Sevika was sitting at the bar, right where Jinx told her where to meet, Jinx watched as you finally showed up, looking all nice as she grinned, walking away from it, letting it all play out
"Sevika?" You muttered, confused to see her there
But fuck did she look good
She frowned at the sight of you, about to say something, but her words fell flat at what you were wearing, you looked beautiful
Like really fucking gorgeous
"you look... Nice."
Your cheeks warmed at that, hearing her compliment you as you looked away from her gaze that was too intense for you
"yeah, I was told you'd be here... Jinx told me you wanted to speak to me about something important."
Then it clicked to her.
"fuckin' jinx" she groaned, shoving her glass away. "She set us up."
"what?" You said, dumbfounded, going to sit next to her.
There was a pause, you stared in the distance, distracted, she stared at you more, admiring your features, how pretty you looked in that dress
She's never seen you wear something so formal
It suited you
She bit down on her bottom lip, all of a sudden feeling nervous to speak
"how do you feel about us?" You asked, still not looking at her, she frowned
"us?" She repeated.
You nodded, turning your head to look at her in the eyes
"yeah, me and you. We're a good team, you make a good partner" you say. She felt her heart skip a beat, what the fuck was happening? Why were you being so nice to her?
"what is it" she muttered, "just tell me what you want."
"huh?" You looked confused.
"fuckin' hell" she groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Tell me."
"I like you" you spat out before you could even think.
She raised an eyebrow at you.
"say that again?."
"sevika" you sighed, she liked the way her name sounded coming from your lips, she wanted to hear it again. "This is already awkward as fuck, I like you, okay, fuck, I never hated you, well, maybe at some point I disliked you, at the start, but even then, you're a goddess, fucking look at you, your stunning, anyone would fall for that."
That took her off guard, definitely not what she was expecting
"if you want to cuss me out and stop being partners I'll accept I-"
She shut you up with her lips, pressing herself into you as you almost fell off your stool. She grabbed onto you as you held on tight, kissing her hard, as you moaned into her mouth.
After a while, she didn't want to stop kissing you, neither did you want to stop, you both broke away breathless, pressing your foreheads against each others
"come to mine?" She says with a smile
It's not often you see Sevika smile
"lead the way."
#arcane x reader#arcane x you#arcane x y/n#arcane x female reader#arcane x gender neutral reader#arcane imagine#caitlyn x reader#caitlyn kiramman x reader#vi x reader#vi x you#vi x y/n#jinx x reader#sevika x reader#sevika x you#sevika x y/n
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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy
Violet hadn't really thought about it that way, that her dad wasn't keeping secrets from her, but was actually protecting her from potential episodes. He had told her that knowing about monsters could be dangerous, but she had soaked in so much knowledge in the cowboy timeline and had never felt it chipping away at her mind. What if it still had? What if she was just 'bottling it up' like Samantha had said? And what if it exploded one day? The thought sent a cold shiver down her back.
"I understand," she whispered, "but if you never talk about your missions... how do you deal with them? Whenever I come back from a travel, I tell you all about it, and it helps-" She stopped, and opened her mouth in horror. "Should I stop telling you about it? Could it trigger more episodes?" It was her fault her dad had spent the last four days struggling with his memories. But what if she triggered another episode one day? Because she kept telling him about the monsters and the travels?
She nodded. Yes, she remembered Agent Davidson and the many threats he had told her dad. Just thinking about it made her blood boil. Delta Green might have a noble purpose, but it was not a noble organization. "It must have been horrible," she said with a frown, "knowing that they were always holding this threat over your head." And yet he was so dedicated to the Program. Was it just because he believed in their cause? Because he wanted to protect the world?
"They threatened our family, too?" Her frown deepened. "Did Agent Davidson threaten our family?" Oh, how she hated this man! She hated him more than she had ever hated anyone else. She hated him more than she hated Sloane. She hated him more than she hated the Horned One.
This explained his dedication to the Program, at least. He had given them everything because if he hadn't, who knows what they would have done? Even without the threat of the ward, they had used other ways to force her dad into fighting their battles. "They're wicked," she croaked, shaking her head, "I know they fight monsters but... what they did to you... it's cruel. And it's unfair."
Fear started to trickle down inside her chest, drop by drop, as she thought about the letter she had received. The letter her dad had shredded, to protect her. "Are they going to do something like that to me? Are they going to send me to a ward to recruit me? I- I killed Layla and- what if they tell the Police?"
Theo studied her as she turned to look at him, Davidson's warning ringing in his head about revealing the organisation to anyone and the consequences of doing so, however Theo had entered a new phase of his coping with what had happened to him. Most importantly he didn't want Violet idolising a life he had only allowed her to see glimpses of.
"Not the missions specifically," he gently shook his head, trying to word things in his own mind. He had even rehearsed what he should say that morning but of course as was the way, it had all gone out of his head now he was actually supposed to start. "The reason I don't go into details about them with you is because sometimes even hearing of these things can trigger episodes like the ones we talked about." Four days ago? But it felt longer.
"So when you ask me about them it's not just that I am being secretive, it's also to protect you from more than just knowledge of what I do." He drew in a breath, thankfully it was not shaky anymore but he was clearly trying to steel himself.
"You saw how it was I was recruited, Agent Davidson arrested me and put me in that ward for just over seven months before you turned up." His jaw knotted in the memory, "This was the basis of my working for them as an agent. They funded my education and for a short while between collage and the FBI I was working with the police as a special." No authority but all the training, "The ward was constantly held over my head as the threat it was meant to be, that if I did not do well in school, if I did not train properly or if I failed the academy I would be put back there and left there."
He chewed his tongue of course he was angry about what had happened to him and he hoped he could muster up the courage and strength to take himself with Samantha to the shooting range to let out some of that rage but for now he had to wait. "It was a very real threat, it wasn't until about twelve years ago that I was able to close that ward down once and for all and free myself from that threat." Theo studied her, carefully. "But now there is a new threat they could use, not just to ruin my career but I have six children, Rea, parents, in-laws, friends." There was nothing really noble about how it was they kept agents in line. "So I climbed. I worked hard for Delta Green and showed my loyalty by doing whatever it took," a darkness crossed his face for a moment as he thought on that and what he knew now of cultists. "I am not a regular agent but I am also stuck from progressing any further because I have given them everything."
#&(killian beneventi)#violet (there's no happy endings)#multipleoccupancy#delta green verse#read at your own discretion
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@hxney-lemcn said more cater fics and I am here 2 deliver ✌️✌️
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ friends kiss, too
type of post: short fic characters: cater additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, friends 2 lovers ON TOP! a little making out
Every time Cater drags you through one of these things, you ask yourself why you let him, and every time, the answer is the same: he's your best friend, and you love him.
It's the very same reason you let him spam you with texts and annoy you with surprise selfies. It's the reason you rarely hang out with anyone else, because you know it makes him jealous, though he'd never admit that.
It's the reason you're here, now, awake in your room well past curfew.
Despite the threat of a Housewarden who would flay you alive if he caught you and Cater sneaking around in the dead hours of the night, your bestie was absolutely insistent on this all-nighter.
It's a trend on Magicam, he said, and he had, of course, pouted and whined like a sad puppy until you agreed to "support him" by keeping him awake.
By two in the morning, you were more bored than tired.
"Pass. Pass," Cater says, swiping through dating profiles on his phone. "Hm... no, pass."
You sigh and slump against the headboard of your bed. "You've said that word so many times, it doesn't sound real anymore,"
"Ughhhh. Is Sage's Island where hotties go to die? I just want a cute holiday romance!" he exclaims. "Think of the pics!"
You roll your eyes. You'd heard that exact string of words probably ten times in the past few days.
"You can't date someone just for couple photo ops,"
Cater pouts. "Oh, yes I can. I specify "nothing serious" on my profile! It's not like I'm lying!"
Another eye-roll. He's technically right, as always, which just makes you even more annoyed.
But you don't want to get into an argument about the morality of flings right now.
"And it's cold out. Who am I gonna hold when it gets even colder? It's cuffing season, hon,"
Something about the way he says that bothers you. You try not to think about it so much.
"Well, you'll always have me," you tease.
Cater giggles, and sets his phone down on the bed, a subtle way of showing you that you have his full attention now. "Oh? What's this? Sounds like you're offering,"
"Not what I meant," you counter. "I'm your bestie, not your bae."
"Boooo. What are you, a nun? Friends cuddle all the time,"
Again, he's right. He likes being right, and you can see that on him now, too. He has that competitive glow on his face.
You smile. "Sure, sure, but we all know that cuddling isn't what you're looking for,"
Cater gasps, feigning offense with a hand placed delicately over his heart. "I am not that easy! I'm starting to think you really do want me all to yourself,"
If anything, it's the other way around. Since befriending him at the start of the school year, you'd always had the feeling that he took up all your time on purpose. But you don't say that.
"Besides," he goes on. "There are a lot of things that besties can do that are perfectly friend-like. The segregation of romantic and platonic is a totally oppressive amatonormative structure, anyway."
You roll your eyes. "You have got to stop reading those infographics. Do you even know what any of those words mean?"
"Not the point! I'm saying that there's lots of cute stuff we can do while remaining besties,"
He's very enthusiastic about this. You can't tell if it's his penchant for being right, or something more.
"Pfft. Okay. So, what, friends can kiss?"
"Obviously," Cater crosses his arms over his chest, giving you that smug look of his. "Friends kiss, too."
"Then prove it,"
The words that had you had been holding in the back of your mouth for the past few minutes escape before your brain can stop them.
Even Cater, who's never surprised, pales a little.
Your mouth opens, then closes, then opens, again without your thoughts offering any support.
"I didn't mean-"
"Okay,"
You blink. Something hot and cold at the same time runs through your body- adrenaline, anxiety, maybe it's just your own blood heating up at the way Cater leans closer, cupping your face in his hand, his fingers curled under your jaw and thumb gently brushing against your cheek.
His hands are kinda sweaty. You don't really mind, and even if you did, it wouldn't have mattered, because his lips are now sweetly pressing against yours.
You fit together quite nicely. As if he was just meant to kiss you.
It's hard not to think about everything all at once; his warm hand moving to cup your chin and hold you close to him, his hair brushing against your face, the way his lips still linger with spice from whatever he'd eaten earlier...
It's not perfect. But it's him, which is close enough.
Cater pulls away, his breath dancing across your lips, but he gives you no time to recover before he's closer, kissing you again with a sort of heat that matched the taste of his mouth.
He holds your face in both hands, shamelessly pinning you against the headboard and sitting in your lap as if he belonged there, always.
Minutes go by. Maybe hours. You wouldn't have noticed, or cared, either way. When you finally part from one another, it's felt like years.
You feel like an entirely different person. As if the world had ended and begun again in the six minutes you had been kissing him.
Cater sits atop your thighs, panting, his face redder than his Housewarden's hair, that of which would have flayed you both if he were to catch you like this.
Luckily, it's just the two of you.
"See?" Cater finally mumbles, dismounting you and scooting back to where he left his phone. "Platonic."
You're too breathless to argue.
You suppose you'll let him be right again.
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༻ Stardust of your soul | N. Romanoff ༺
Natasha Romanoff x gn!reader
Summary: Being new to SHIELD and it's agents you'd always kept yourself to yourself & hovered in the background. Yet a new chapter opens up when being invited to the compound for 'team bonding,' and it turns out another star shined just as you did without even knowing. Simply the trust to fall asleep on another's lap really does open up the deepest of souls.
Warnings: None! Just pure fluff & sentiment of how Natasha falls asleep on your lap..
Pairings: Natasha romanoff x gn!reader, sort of black cat x golden retriever (ish?)
Word Count: 3.8K
DC: cafekitsune
AN: I don't know where I got this idea from, but I wanted to get back to writing again, so I figured some soft reading of Natasha falling asleep on the reader's lap by accident would cut it! <3 Might make a P2!
(also if ppl can teach me how to get a sapphic relationship-)
Walking through the halls of the building always seemed daunting when you worked for SHIELD. It wasn't like you feared anyone there, just everyone was so equipped and skilled- they'd been there for a good chunk of time. Many beginning their journey's with SHIELD years before yourself, forming bonds and friendships.
You were merely a baby taking their first steps within the walls of SHIELD headquarters, simply learning the ropes & where to start. Still, you were eager to always take on a challenge and being accepted as a SHIELD agent wasn't something you'd expect to happen, yet changing that decision to take on the role wasn't even a consideration for you.
A simple few weeks at the headquarters was all it took for you to slowly begin to feel more comfortable with the said environment. You'd spoken to Maria Hill the Deputy Director of SHIELD and while she could be intimidating, she and yourself shared views similar making it easy to get on. Fury was a little more on the complex side but some of the other agents you'd definitely enjoyed bonding with.
You'd been called in to a meeting for god knows what, but that was the generalised idea these days. Most agents yourself included never seemed to be informed prior of your missions only simply assigned upon the day. It did albeit stress you out given your organised schedule and how you felt with being thrown into the deepest ends of the pool was stressful.
However, when you dedicated your time and complete energy and effort within SHIELD's walls and work you had to be prepared for anything, without fail. You'd found yourself being so lost in thought with how you'd ended up in this role and position that you'd realised you'd come to a halt.
Seeing the door to Fury's office was a surprise to your eyes, having not realised you'd walked all that way. Slowly bracing yourself, your hand reached for the door handle before it was pulled open and Nick Fury himself stood there in the flesh.
"Come on in," His voice that always sent chills down your spine seemed warmer than usual today.
It did strike you as odd but you hardly had the time to think more of it. Instead you simply merely nodded entering the room at a gentle pace, before your shoes caused a loud squeak of a sudden stop.
Your eyes glanced around the room to see people you hardly ever thought you'd be in the same room with. The Avengers, the actual known hero's themselves sat around a table as their eyes slowly drifted up to study you.
Tony, Steve, Clint, Thor, Natasha, Bruce, Wanda, Rhodey & Sam. All of them were waiting for your arrival.
Natasha let out a soft smile at you nodding an approving look, which didn't surprise you at all. You'd become accustomed to the redhead while at SHIELD given her status and her ability to train new recruits which yourself was in fact one of them.
You'd never quite been able to read her fully, only knowing she had a closed off position about her, including the past everyone was forbidden to know of. All the recruits and fellow agents knew that it was a road nobody dared cross, including interacting with the redhead outside of working hours.
Standing there waiting for Fury or anyone to say something felt like an agonising amount of time & it was making the clock feeling like minutes were passing by. In reality, it was most likely to be mere seconds before Fury coughed and began to fill the silent room with his voice.
"So Y/N.. There's been some form of talk amongst myself and the Avengers," he began and you felt your body froze.
Without the intention of doing so, you glanced over at Natasha with concern and worry glazed over your eyes. Nobody else would recognise the small but clear look she gave to you, it was something you'd come to somewhat understand. She gave you a curt but firm nod and her eyes softened only for a moment but that moment was enough. It was okay.
You felt your shoulders and body language relax a tad as you nodded towards Director Fury to continue his conversation.
"We feel that.. we need a new member to work with the Avengers. Think of it as a new position a higher role. One that we thought you'd fit most well into. More like a team bonding so you'd say."
You gawked at the older man before shaking your head back to reality as it sunk into your brain and your bones. He thought you were the best for the role? You as in just someone from a town that had nothing now working along side the Avengers, more specifically her.
"M-Me? What, there has to be some sort of mistake. Director I don't know if I-" You began stuttering over your words.
While you did admire your strengths and abilities, it was a big step to be working with the earth's mightiest hero's. You certainly didn't want to make a fool out of yourself, however Fury decided to interrupt you.
"All due respect Y/L/N, it wasn't really a request. We need you on the team. The mission that's required is going to need all the assets and best that we've got. It's important," he stated firmly looking around the room at the Avengers before moving his gaze back to you.
"Director I-"
"They'll be trained and ready. I'll make sure of it," you heard her voice echo through the room with determination.
Your eyes drifted around the room landing onto her, staring at Natasha in pure shock and partial annoyance. You knew your own weaknesses and strengths and didn't need anyone speaking for you.
However, she simply stared back at you with a firm all serious look showing she wasn't backing down. Why was she so fixated on having you on the team? Her eyes changed ever so slightly and only for a moment looking at you with something you couldn't quite place. However, in a small blink just a tiny moment the look disappeared and her normal stoic expression was back.
"Thank you Agent Romanoff. Anything anyone else has to add?" He asked looking around the room with sheer authority.
Nobody seemed to speak, Tony flamboyantly flapping his hands up to speak for them. Clearly they weren't against having you on the team, you must be some important asset they required. With nobody speaking, you were all dismissed and the Avengers all fluttered out of the room.
All except one. Natasha stood leaning against the wall, half slouching her gaze fixated onto you. Head tilted in an almost questioning way towards you. Mirroring the action, you stared at the redhead inquisitive facial expressions painted on both of your faces.
Natasha cracked first, shifting off the wall walking towards you with her hands in her pockets, her signifying black leather jacket around her shoulders.
"You know, you should have more belief in yourself Y/N. We both know your abilities, I've witnessed them myself," she added her eyebrow arching.
"I.. You think so?" You managed to get out slowly.
Without a warning she leaned forward, whispering in your ear causing your body to stiffen. With her being this close you could smell her perfume, invading your senses like a warm blanket alluring you and drawing you in. The proximity of her was sending heat to your face and you knew her voice was sending shivers down your body.
"I know so sweetheart, I know so," she hushed out and if the floor was made of lava you'd melt right through it and into the ground beneath you.
Natasha was like a temptress, a woman who knew how to lull people in just with a few simple words. You knew this but still felt yourself floating towards the singing of the siren.
She stepped back smirking at you sending you a wink causing your heart to hammer against your chest. It was like she was looking into the depths of your soul and you were trying not to give her the key to opening your soul.
Just before she opened the door to exit the room she flung her body around to face you at an angle. The tension in the room was intense, dancing around you in a heavy feeling as she spoke.
"Training starts at 7. Don't be late sweetheart. I don't do late."
With that she left the room without allowing yourself to respond and you felt an internal groan bubbling inside of you. She was seeing into your soul now you needed to try and allow Natasha to let you see her own.
Tossing and turning at night in your bed whilst the minutes passed by seemed to be what was happening for you. The clock was ticking yet you were significantly restless especially knowing training started at 7am with Natasha wouldn't settle your mind to rest.
Her words played over and over again in your head, on a constant never ending loop. 'I know so sweetheart.' You couldn't remember the last time you had that much confidence running within your veins, let alone someone else. Yet, her voice ran through your mind, your soul almost touched by her belief.
Turns out you must have been laying there for that long tossing and turning throughout the night you'd managed to not succumb to a single ounce of sleep. That perhaps would come back to be biting you on the ass at some point today. Especially if you have training with Natasha.
As your head spun to view the clock next to the nightstand, elicting a loud groan from your lips. It read the time of 6:15AM. That's always your luck, never helping with the concept of you being the polar opposite of a morning person. If anyone was grouchy in the morning it would always be yourself.
Flinging the covers off yourself, grudgingly, you found your legs dragging themselves to the bathroom to have a shower, the need to freshen and wake up becoming excruciatingly stronger by the minute.
The water cascaded down your body, a soft sigh leaving your lips. It warmed you up within the speed of light, relaxing your current running thoughts, muscles relaxing slightly. Taking a shower has always reassured your senses with its water-hug, warm and cozy.
As you dressed for the training, you slipped out of the room deciding to take a small detour around the compound. The passing of Agents in the corridor, seemingly more professional and adjusted to the surroundings of the compound than yourself.
It almost made you shrink into yourself, wanting to knock your confidence. However, Natasha's words from the previous day replayed in your head on repeat, warning your insides for reasons unexplained.
Almost as if by sheer luck you'd past the main lounge of the compound where a few of the known Avengers seemed to be sitting around. That included, Tony, Steve, Wanda and Clint. As if your presence was like a dark shadow lingering into the room, all of their heads seemed to twist into your direction.
One thing you despised being more than anything is being the centre of all attention, eyes gazing on you like you'd become to be on a stage you weren't supposed to take. It bought bile rising from the depths of your stomach up at the mere concept of it.
Yet, their gazes lingered in a none judgmental way, almost like the comfort of understanding, an overwhelming sense but peaceful. Steve was the first to speak up, nodding at you firmly but not with an intensity of malice.
"If you're after the training room, it's just down the hall. Natasha's waiting for you there. Good luck, just believe in yourself."
With a curt, but gentle nod you headed to the training room giving your best definition of a half smile. Though, it probably looked more like a grimace, unintentionally of course.
As you entered the training room, Natasha was working on her punching exercises. Each one better than the last. The glimmer of sweat trickling down her cheeks and side of her hair, shone like water in the moonlight. For a moment you almost stopped to admire her.
However, you'd clearly being staring too long considering, when you came out of your dazed trance, Natasha stood smirking at you. Her head was now tilted to the side, her crimson hair braided and cascading down her shoulders. Immediately you flushed, a sudden realisation you'd been watching her working out, like some puppy in awe of the smallest of things.
"See something that you like?" Her voice carried huskily, but with a hint of a smirk lingering causing your knees to weaken.
Why she was having this effect on you, you'd never know. Part of yourself wished the feeling would vanish, disappearing like particles of atoms into the air. Dust vanishing away, yet another piece of you thrilled for the unknown drawn, the tranquility you felt. It felt exhilarating, the need for an escape.
As your eyes drifted around the room you realised just how much equipment had been invested within the 4 walls. Several different types of equipment were laid out in different selections, ranging from treadmills to yoga mats, leg presser's, even a shooting target range.
"N-No sorry I-" You stuttered still trying to distract your gaze to anything but at the redhead whose smirk had now grown wider.
The pair of you trained for a while, Natasha teaching you combat, which albeit you weren't as talented as herself. Several times she's managed to knock you down and pin you to the ground. Which, just happened to always end up with you looking up at her both your bodies in an extraordinary comprising position.
Natasha, on the other hand never judged you. Her skills and assets were on a scale of unbelievable, making you feel as tiny as an ant. Yet, the redhead never made you feel smaller than herself. She always seemed to root for the best in you, causing you to admire her as the minutes passed on.
"You've got more talent than you know," her voice whispered during the last training session.
Her voice sent a small shiver through your body shooting down your spine, as though a melody yet to be sang was ready to be heard. A soft nod a content true smile painted your lips setting a thousand suns alight.
"Thank you, Romanoff," your voice responded a little stronger than prior.
"Hey to you, it's Natasha."
A soft giggle passed your lips and she smiled, a rare one you could have sworn in the short time including familiarities of SHIELD, had never seen cross her lips before.
"it's like before when you were training me isn't it?" You asked your mouth speaking before your brain.
She simply nodded with a hum, putting herself once again in a position of combat causing you to follow suit. Her hair was now slick with sweat, but yours was drenched. Almost as if you'd been training the whole day, yet in reality it was a simple couple of hours.
"Exactly like before. Just harder and with stronger combat skills and assets."
Before you knew it, the pair of you were back at it. Training like you'd done the several times previously. Your skills had improved remarkably. How you didn't know, perhaps it was her words and further encouragement. Her sense of purpose that brought tranquility to you an ideology of lack of judgment.
One minute you were slightly stumbling and within the blink of an eye, you had her pinned. It was like the world had stopped, her own eyes had widened in shock, your body freezing as though ice had embedded itself within your veins, shocking every atom inside you.
The Natasha Romanoff, had been pinned down onto the floor with you hovering over her. A huge sense of achievement fell over you, a joyful relief that you had finally believed something within your bones for so long.
She felt it too, winking with no insult or any sort of ruined pride. Natasha merely looked and presented herself in a way that ran through to the pit of your stomach.
You scrambled off her slightly embarrassed as reality began to hit you, considering the positions you were currently in. Helping her up, Natasha stood there hands on her hips for a moment analysing you, but for once no feeling of unease overcame you.
"Told you could do it sweetheart," she said wiping her head with a towel.
If words could make your body melt into a puddle, like snow in the winter. You would have right there. Like an icicle on a tree branch waiting for its calling of life that's how you felt. Glistening but melting into bliss.
Natasha headed towards the door, her black tank top sticking to her in a way that was sheer attractive to practically everyone undeniably. Her abs could practically be seen through the material, causing your eyes to look up towards the ceiling scolding every part of your brain.
"Oh and, same time tomorrow," Natasha stated her voice carrying a tinge of something unplaced that caused you to look up at her. Yet she's disappeared through the door before anything more could be thought of it.
That's how it continued. The form of relationship building between yourselves, training continuing everyday. Your combat becoming stronger, fighting harder each time, not only did your skills improve but also your mindset. It began to light up your moments like a firefly, shining thousands of miles into you lighting up a hope in the sky.
There were times Natasha beat you, earning a playful comment from her lips.
"Gotta be faster than that honey," she'd husk out in that voice of hers.
Yet, you never stopped enjoying your training moments, the building of an established unknown. The way you and Natasha formed was rare, unseen and unbecoming, but there was no regret. No simple doubt that you enjoyed the form of relationship the pair of you had formed.
One morning your alarm clock went off once more, 6:15AM on the dot. Making no time to convince yourself to fall back into a peaceful depth of slumber you headed to the shower. Getting ready fast in the morning had become the new norm for you.
You'd managed to get changed at the speed of light hopping around to get into your gym wear. Just as you were about to leave F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke up warning you.
"Excuse me Y/N, I was informed to let you know most of the Avengers got called out for an emergency mission. You were called to go on it but, Miss Romanoff debated otherwise."
Your heart sank, upset slightly about the lack of training. You'd become quite accustomed to the way of life in the morning, training with Natasha before amusing yourself for the remainder of the day. However, it sank further when she mentioned Natasha stated she didn't want you there.
Were you not qualified enough? Would you ever be? Your mind spiralled around with overwhelming and overthinking thoughts, like a tornado sweeping through miles of countryside. No, you couldn't do this to yourself again.
The entire day became yourself training practically with little to no breaks, until the very darkness of night emerged the atmosphere, clicking your brain into knowledge.
Taking your last shower felt less like a privilege and more like a burden. Something undeserving, especially when you're clearly not welcome on missions. However, you knew you needed it.
Eventually you'd changed into some warmer fuzzier lounge wear, settling on some grey jumpsuit. It allowed you to feel more relaxed. The feeling sent you into a deep slumber, curled into the couch in a content creation.
A form half leaning on your body caused you to almost jolt awake, but you heard a whisper next to you. For a mere few seconds your surroundings became an enemy, training become reality. Yet, as your eyes adjusted to the light around you an awareness grew within you.
The Avengers were sat down around you, watching some random Christmas film you presumed Sam chose considering the choice. Clint was sat a few feet away glancing at you contently.
"You'll wake her," he mumbled his voice lower than usual that caused an unprovoked raised eyebrow from yourself.
Following his gaze, your heart pounded harder, eyes widening in a sudden surprise. Natasha was lying on your shoulder, her body almost slipping towards your lap. She seemed more at ease than Natasha ever had before.
Like the weight of a thousand worlds, a thousand men had been lifted by one single sleep. No, a single person. You. Her hair was now loose, drifting down her shoulders, making her look almost incredibly soft and it melted every aspect of you.
"She seems exhausted," you murmured without thinking.
"She took the most hits. I know what you were thinking. Natasha she.. She didn't want you on that mission, because she didn't want you hurt. Not because she doubts your capabilities. All I could see was her guilt and want to be back training with you."
Clint's confession and confirmation sent a warmth unexplainable feeling through you. Looking deeper at Natasha, you noticed the cuts and bruises. The winces when the redhead shifted in her sleep. A shatter through your heart came hard, one you had no idea was possible as you glanced softly at the older woman.
She cared. Natasha stirred slightly her eyes fluttering glancing up at you. Her eyes met yours and in that moment it unlocked everything and anything possible. It's said eyes are window's to one's soul. The key to unlocking everything about a person there was to be done.
Glancing at her emerald eyes all you saw was stardust, the pain of stars shimmering thousands of light years away trying to find their way back. She smiled weakly, trying to pull away. However, instead you adjusted Natasha to rest her head on your lap.
A frozen form hit your lap, tense in shock before fully relaxing into your hold. A soft hum left her lips and without thinking you began to caress her hair, bringing her to a warmth blanket of safety.
"She's never like that, looks like you're something," Clint mumbled smirking causing you to roll your eyes.
Natasha wasn't just an assassin, nor an Avenger. Sure you had no doubt words would be interestingly mentioned later when she awoke. Yet for now, as you had previously gazed into her eyes, all you saw was the stars of light wanting a home. Stroking her hair was like touching the star's of the soul itself, no matter the distance they'd always have somewhere or someone to go to.
#natasha romanoff#kaz daily thoughts ღ#natasha romanoff x reader#marvel fic#marvel imagine#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff fic#natasha imagine#natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff x female reader#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#natasha romanoff angst#natasha romanoff x gn!reader#kaz's fics <3
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Slide - The Trial - MYG
Pairing: Producer!Yoongi X Lyricist!Reader
Theme: Angst, smut, unplanned pregnancy. Fwb to ?
Word count: 1.1k+
Summary:
"Caught in a daze, I persuade her with my own complications"
Alternatively,
You have some questions and Yoongi has no answer.
Listened to Slide by Chase Atlantics
Warnings: Angst, reader's turning point. Yoongi's suffering has began.
Minors do not interact!!
Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Patreon (for early access)
Taglist requests are closed for now
A/N: another Yoongi's pov. before we dive into reader's post miscarriage angst. also, I have tagged everyone who asked to be tagged after I closed the request for the first time but I have only tagged the blogs which have age mentioned in their bios.
Read the next chapter
“I want a daughter first and then… ummm… probably a son too. We will name her Yunri. Yoongi plus Gyuri, Yunri.” Gyuri had told him once, latching onto his arm as if it meant everything to her.
Yoongi knew he should have felt warmth bubbling in his chest, he knew he should have felt giddy but what he felt was dread running through the entire course of his body.
Getting married, having kids are two of the things he never planned for in life - not even when he fell in love with Gyuri, not even when he got engaged to her somewhat against his own will.
But now he feels weird, he feels something really really uncomfortable in his chest as he stares at your weak frail form weeping while sitting at the couch.
His own limbs feel like jelly as he realizes again that you were pregnant and the baby was his.
A baby - his and yours.
Why doesn’t it feel so dreadful anymore?
Yoongi puts the entire weight of his body on his arms and pushes himself off of the ground. His toes carry his body towards you.
But he is afraid - what if you push him away now? What if you break when he touches you?
What if you scatter and disappear in fine dust as soon as he gets close to you?
What if… what if… all of this is a dream?
You don’t look at him when he silently sits beside you. It hurts him but he knows better than putting the blame on you.
If anyone is to be blamed, then it’s him for sure.
Yoongi opens his mouth to say something - anything. But he only gapes like a fish out of water because his thoughts don’t form a coherent sentence.
Your face is covered with your small palms, Yoongi wants to reach out, clutch those and apologize to you until you forgive him for all the damages he has done.
But he can’t.
Again he is afraid to break you even more.
“Why.. why didn’t you tell me?” Yoongi doesn’t recognize his own voice when it leaves his throat. There is much more pain than he has heard himself speak with in a while - certainly for the first time after Gyuri left.
You sniff, then rub tears off your eyes and stare blankly at the ceiling.
The scene is awfully similar to your and his first night together. He still recalls losing himself in those dark eyes of yours little by little and then finally diving into your abyss.
“There are tons of reasons why. But even if I did, would it change anything?” your voice is completely opposite of his - steady, firm, doesn’t bear a single hint of all the tears he has been watching you shade.
You are truly just another version of him.
“That doesn’t answer my question, Y/N. Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” Yoongi scoots a little closer to your body.
You sigh, a deep, resigned sigh that says you are exhausted - both mentally and physically.
“If I told you, wouldn’t you think that this is an excuse? For keeping you all to myself? For not letting you go back to the only woman you have ever loved? Wouldn’t you, Yoongi?” You finally look at him, eyes red with continuous crying.
Yoongi can’t stare into your eyes now. He is ashamed because you are right. He would have thought you are just like other women out there - trying to latch onto him for god knows what.
He licks his lips instead, prepares to say something but you cut him off again.
“Also you said … you don’t want to have kids.” your voice trembles now.
Again you are right - Yoongi definitely doesn’t want kids. But then why losing your and his baby tugs painfully at his heartstrings?
Why?
“But I am responsible for your pregnancy, I- I should have been there for you.” Yoongi tries to reach out for your hand but you move away, standing on your weak feet.
“There’s no point of regretting now. The baby is gone.” you inhale a long breath and then continue, “but I really want to know what you are doing here? At this hour? Right after rejecting me?”
Yoongi stands up too, somewhat hyper, “I didn’t reject you. I was- I was just shocked. You ran away before- before I got to utter a single word, Y/N. I wanted to go after you but-”
“But then the right person came to claim you and you ended up lost in her lips, am I right?” you don’t scream but anger is evident in your voice anyway.
Yoongi recalls the doctor asking him not to stress you out any more.
“It was a trial, Y/N. Me and Gyuri getting back together was a trial. I knew it wasn’t a good idea but when she begged me- I- I couldn’t say no. I knew I was hurting you too and I thought getting back with her would set you free. But I- I was wrong. I wasn’t free myself. I kept thinking of you.” Yoongi stops, gulps the lump in his throat and proceeds to continue, “I know I sound selfish but I got attached to you during our time together. And it is not meaningless to me as you happen to believe. You are more meaningful than most of the people in my life… including Gyuri. I… I broke things off with her, this time forever. And I came to tell you that… that I want to try being with you. If you’d let me.”
You scoff, “and why so? Why do you want to try being with me?”
Your question renders Yoongi speechless. He doesn’t know the answer to your question.
“Tell me, Yoongi, why do you want to try? What is it that you feel for me?” you press more. Your new found determination of cornering him shocks him, but he knows he is the one to blame.
And now that he wonders the answers, he can’t find any firm sentence to offer you.
He still doesn’t know what he feels for you.
“I- I don’t know. I don’t know what I feel for you.”
You laugh, dry but dripping with amusement and anger, “then I would ask you to leave. You may only come back with the thought of getting together with me when you are sure about my place in your life.”
You slowly walk away from him, taking careful steps towards your bedroom.
Yoongi stands there as he feels the void in his chest getting bigger and bigger. A tear escapes his eyes but he still doesn’t know what he is crying for - you? The unborn baby? Or himself?
His real trial, probably, begins here.
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Exercise burns WAY too little calories to beat a bad diet, that is very true. I also lost the weight I lost (which his 20kg since summer 2023) through diet alone. Perhaps I did SOME exercise if you count the physical strength and steps you HAVE to do when you walk around in a warehouse, but I was "fat" back then even while working there before, so I don't think it made that much of a difference.
Ofc it's fine to stay happy and learn to love yourself as you are, I just know that I for myself couldn't and I find myself way more attractive now that I lost weight and for anyone who is like me and wants to shed some kgs without a horrible diet that ends in a yoyo- I'll add what I did under here, btw this is for no profit at all, I just want to help fellow people unhappy in their skin and I thought for WAY TOO LONG that losing weight is impossible, when it's actually not that hard.
It's annoying af, I know, but calories count. Get an app that calculates your daily need of calories. It needs your height, age and weight to know the right number. Once you have that, you can extract 100-300 kcal from that total and make this your goal to eat less of that every day for a few weeks, you'll see the weight WILL get down. The scale will sometimes stay the same weight for weeks though but if you keep going you WILL see the change!
Additional to step 1- 100-300 kcal we sometimes take in just with a sweet drink or a snack. It's not that hard to eat less of it and you can still get full! You can google low kcal meals that you can eat lots of- A personal tip from me is eating thin wraps (the thinner the less kcal) with salmon or other protein fillings- since protein makes you full AND is necessary for weight loss and muscle gain. BTW don't you dare to eat less than that, it WILL hinder your weight loss, we need a certain amount of calories to work!!!!!!
Protein, you have to eat enough protein a day for this all to be lasting. I read you have to eat your bodyweight (kg) in grams of protein in a day. For example, back when I was 60kg, I had to eat 60g protein a day. But also don't beat yourself up over it if you don't get that amount daily, I didn't either, just try to whenever you can, and it'll help!
ADD your workout. I had an app that also counted my steps and automatically added the kcal I burned to my daily kcal app. It motivated me to move more because 10k steps is like 100kcal and that was 100kcal I could eat more even WHILE dieting.
Cheat meals. Important: MEAL not day, every Saturday or Sunday I had a cheat meal, sometimes even smth as big as a burger on TOP of my usual daily intake. It helps your metabolism and body to stop thinking you're starving (which makes weight loss slower) so it's not only helpful in case you're starving to eat more (bc ngl it WILL be hard until your stomach has shrinked a lil but you can do it if I did bby) but also helps your diet physically fr! So do these!!! Reward yourself for your hard work
"So does that mean I will 4ever have to count calories?" God no, I did it for over a year until I was sick of it myself. I went from 68kg down to 49kg, when I stopped counting I gained again ofc, but I still know now what contains how many calories and know by heart what I can eat and what I shouldn't. I am 52kg for months now and I don't gain anything more and even if I would, I would know now how to lose it again if it gets really bad. THAT WAS BASICALLY already it. I know not every day will be easy and sometimes you WILL mess up. The trick is not to beat yourself up over it and keep going! Wearing the cute clothes you always wanted to wear will be SO rewarding and worth it, at least it was for me. Disclaimer that I never had children, don't have diabetes, and am in my early 30ies so idk if this will work for everyone but it did for me, and if this just helps one soul my job here is already done!!
Me: Exercise does not cause weight loss. This is a fact that has been demonstrated so robustly in research that even doctors, who hate and fear evidence, are grudgingly starting to admit this.
Someone reading that post: Cool, but have you considered that exercise leads to weight loss?
Me: I am going to eat you
#diet#weight#I was unhappy with my weigh from teen to end of my 20ies#And I wished someone would have told me sooner how to lose it FR#so I wanna share what I know#to everyone who wants to try it do your best!!!
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Darkest Part (6 - Finale) - Like a Bullet
Astrid Deetz x female Reader
Summary: You will never, in life or afterlife, if such a thing exists, meet anyone as infuriating, rage inducing, entitled, or frankly awful, as Astrid fucking Deetz. There isn’t a single thing you’d like more than to never be around her, but as your luck would have it, you just can’t stay away from her.
Masterlist / First part / Previous Part
Word count: 5.3k
-I don't know what it is that you do to me baby, if you knew would you tell that you feel the same way that I do-
A few days following the craziest night of your life you were finally back home in Manhattan. You never thought you would be missing this place. Not that you disliked it, you just never thought you’d get this nostalgic after less than a week. Granted, after everything that happened seeing the old buildings you got so used to felt like the most comforting sight in the world. “Home sweet home,” you said, breathing out a sigh of relief, as you stretched right outside of Lydia's car. They were kind enough to drop you off.
“So eager to get away from me, are you?” Astrid reached out through the window and nudged you slightly with her fist.
“Of course! What did you think? I can't stand being around you, you damn Chihuahua,” you smirked as you said that, at this point you were both just bantering because it came as a second nature to you. To some people it might seem like a genuine argument, but what was going on between you was more of a habit rather than anything, and there was absolutely no malice behind any word you spoke. Still you leaned into the car through the window and took her hand. “The deal remains, right?” you asked with a tiny bit of uncertainty in your voice. “We are meeting on Saturday at eleven in the morning?” that was the plan at the moment, you would meet up in the park go to a café and well, you would see where things go from there.
Astrid squeezed your hand and smiled, reassuring you without a single word. She still spoke up, “Of course, you better impress me, Barnacle.”
You rolled your eyes at that. “Please, you need to earn being impressed,” you replied with a cheeky grin on your face.
Astrid suddenly reached up and pushed a strand of your hair back behind your ear “Oh, do I?
Really?” Lydia must have turned the heating up to the max because it suddenly got really, actually really hot in the car.
“No, of course you don’- wait no, you actually do I changed my mind! You do, you absolutely do,” you pulled away from the car and pointed at her. “Just for that stunt you have to actually earn being impressed, because you’re, well you are- ah, fuck,” your brain just wasn't working. “You’re being you! Yeah, that works, I’m going with that,” and all the while Astrid was laughing her ass off.
Astrid got her laughter under control far too quickly for your liking and gestured for you to come closer, which you did as if drawn in by some spell. She smiled and patted you on the cheek. “Sure, whatever makes you sleep at night, Barnacle.”
You pulled away from her because you just did not deserve to be teased like this. Not when you felt so powerless against her. Why was it easier to deal with Astrid when you were at each other's throats? All the time your thought getting along would make things easier for you, that you already had everything figured out, but no, you were a stuttering mess whose brain constantly failed to deliver a proper response to Astrid’s consistent and tireless efforts to get under your skin.
And the worst thing about it?
She was damn near 100% successful.
No, forget damn near. She was 100% successful.
~X~
You were fucking late and somehow that made you feel like something like this has already happened. It was like you were reliving a day from a while ago, sleeping in, getting ready in a haste, skipping out on breakfast, on a surprisingly sunny November day, and rushing to meet up with someone in a small café in the middle of the park. Only this time you were meeting up with Astrid, instead of with Alex. Huh, their names started with A as well…
Too many coincidences, but you couldn’t think about that right now. You ran through the crowd, narrowly dodging people as you weighed your options. You could jump over the fence and save a couple of minutes, or you could be a civilized human being and take the proper path.
You hated being late too much.
You jumped over the park's fence and ran like hounds of hell were chasing you. Considering everything you went through just a week prior that would actually be tame.
You did not want to be late to your kinda date with Astrid. Hell no! You would not allow that.
And then it happened.
In your haste you didn't pay attention to your surrounding and, honestly you should be surprised it wasn't happening to you more often, you ran into someone and reflexively caught them before they could fall.
"Sorry," you and the person said at the same time and you blinked, looking at Astrid as she regained her balance and held onto your shoulders much longer than necessary. Granted, your hands were on her waist as well and if ignoring that you ran into each other one could be forgiven for mistaking the way you were for an embrace.
But it wasn't that detail that made you freeze.
You suddenly felt like you were transported to the last year, to that day you were meeting up with Alex. To the first time you met Astrid, just like this.
Instead of an apology, what left both of your mouths back then was a simple 'watch where you're going,' even as you were both to blame. Next thing you knew, you met her again at the library and the hate between you properly began.
"Guess neither one of us wanted to be late," Astrid laughed and then she just... hugged you and you pulled her closer, loving how perfect it felt to hug her like this.
"I don't know about you, but I heard first impressions are hard to fix," you whispered in her ear, and she squirmed a bit, she was probably ticklish, and your breath tickled her. That was a theory you'd be testing at a more appropriate time.
"Mhm, Barnacle," she reluctantly pulled away and took your hand, leading you toward the café.
The two of you went inside and somehow you forgot how cozy this place was, it had this rustic feel to it, and it was certified eco-friendly, which was important to Astrid, and to you to be perfectly honest. This was the kind of place you want to one day help create among many, many other things.
Astrid took you to a corner and instead of sitting on the opposite side of you she sat down next to you on the bench so that meant your thighs were nearly touching. The warmth of the fireplace in the middle of the café, the soft music playing, and the dim lighting made this all feel a lot more intimate than you were intending. And it was definitely more intimate than a supposedly definitely friendly date you were on.
The two of you ordered your coffees and then just fell into a comfortable silence, not really sure how to interact with one another when you weren't bantering. It didn’t escape your notice that you didn’t mind being silent with Astrid, it felt comforting, and you had no need to fill the silence. Besides, the somewhat shy smile on Astrid's face told you she didn't mind the silence one bit either.
“So, architecture, right?” she finally broke the silence and you could see that it was something she was curious about for a long time
You cleared your throat, not really used to talking about your passion to anyone other than your mother and Alex and sometimes, though very rarely, Delia while she was still alive. Hell, Astrid probably heard about it from Delia, if the drawing she fixed didn’t give her enough clues. It was actually a relief, that Astrid asked about something you genuinely cared about, it would definitely calm down your nervous heartrate. Or so you hoped. “I've always loved drawing, I guess,” you began, shrugging a bit. “More than that, well, I think that's the most efficient way to changed things on a smaller scale, you know change the everyday living habits and try to counter the climate change like that. Make a small difference one building at a time,” you thought you’d get less nervous, but all of a sudden you weren't exactly confident in your words having never truly expressed them to anyone other than your mom.
Deep down you knew you really wanted to get Astrid’s approval on this. You could only hope Astrid would understand and the smile on her face calmed you down in an instant. She understood, and surprisingly you could see an undeniable admiration in her eyes. And even then, you still felt like she was the one who deserved admiration.
“I think that's amazing,” she replied, actually sounding a bit excited and then it was as if she got self-conscious about it as she looked down at the table. “Sorry, It's kind of weird to be talking like this when we've spent a year at each other's throats, I'm kind of struggling to keep myself from just blurting out things I've been apparently secretly thinking all along,” Astrid confessed with a blush on her face and then, she leaned a bit closer to you, closing the distance as she turned a bit and placed for hand on top of yours. She took a deep breath. “I have admired your talent ever since I saw your drawing for the first time, and Delia did mention we would get along if we just talked. I never realized she was this right.”
This time it was your turn to squeeze her hand in reassurance. “It took some time, but we got here,” you smiled and that seemed to work as she squeezed your hand back. “And come on, whatever you want to say can't be as bad as all the things I blurted out under that truth serum,” you both laughed at the memory of that and listening to Astrid laughing, well, it truly was one of the most beautiful sounds you ever heard. “I could listen to you laughing all day long,” you quickly covered your mouth “Damn it! Am I still under the influence of that thing?!”
“I think it faded, it's just you being a goofball,” Astrid laughed and there was just something in her eyes that pulled you in as you were leaning closer. And you were very much aware she was leaning in as well. “You know there's nothing friendly about this, don't you?” Astrid asked as her breath mixed in with yours, as your lips inched closer with every excruciating second that passed.
“I know,” you whispered and in a burst of reckless disregard for consequences that you really couldn't think of right now, you closed the distance between you and kissed her. And her lips felt like the softest thing your lips ever touched. She kissed you back immediately, her hands reaching and caressing your face and back of your head as she held you closer. You rested your palm, slightly sweaty from the nervousness, on her thigh as your other hand slipped around her to the middle of her back.
Astrid hummed as you ever so slightly deepened the kiss and as you basked in the warmth of her lips and the feeling of her touch on you you realized that this passion you were already feeling was just as strong as the one you felt when you would banter any chance you saw one another.
When you separated out of the need for air, you still remained close, your lips still just slightly touching. “We should have done that a long time ago,” Astrid confessed as she kept you close, committing every touch, every feeling and sensation to memory.
“We really should have,” you replied and pulled back slightly. “So is this, uh, second date, fixing your impression on dating?”
Astrid pecked you on the lips once more. “You know, I think I'll just ignore what happened. I’ll just call that what it really was, a trap. So, it's fair to call this my very first date,” she decided and smiled. “This was my first kiss, just so you know,” she was blushing as she said that.
“Mine too. Both, the date and kiss,” you admitted as well. You felt nervous about the date last night which was probably why you overslept and now you felt dumb for being nervous. This was Astrid! You knew her, even when you were enemies you deep down knew her.
The smile on Astrid’s face widened, and you had no doubt in your mind, a part of her was satisfied with finding out she got your first kiss. “That ghost tried to kiss me, but there was an infuriatingly difficult to get rid of face that popped up in my mind, so I didn't. I couldn't kiss him when I was there thinking about you,” you could see what she was doing, evening things out after all, you did spill your guts because of the truth serum so here she was returning the favor one bit of information after another.
And you were absolutely thankful for it.
~X~
You couldn't remember the last time your apartment was this busy, this all over the place! You've actually been kind of anxious over the past week ever since you basically, and by pure nervous accident, invited Astrid and Lydia over for a dinner, and you've been in that panicked state ever since.
“Mom, can you please just go and lay down?” you pleaded with your mother as she continued cooking preparing yet another dish. “Please! We could feed ten people and it's only the four of us!” you said it, but you were clearly seeing that she was just as nervous as you were.
“What if they don't like something here? There needs to be a backup and the backup for a backup because there's always a chance you make two things someone doesn't like,” yeah she was nervous even more nervous than you.
And that was damn difficult to accomplish!
“That's not going to happen, mom. Even if it does, well if they don't like it they don't like it. Come on, it’s just my girlfriend and her mom coming over!” you cried out, trying to reason with her. Astrid and Lydia would be here in two hours and the kitchen was a mess, and your mom was still cooking and not the soups and main dishes, but the side dishes that you had no way of naming. Where did she even pull all those recipes out of?
“That’s exactly why!” she pointed a wooden spoon at you. “Your girlfriend is coming over, and you've never had a girlfriend before, and you are just two weeks into the relationship,” actually three but you were too embarrassed to tell your mom you got together with Astrid barely ten days after you stopped hating her so you only told her after the third date. “And she's coming over with her mother for dinner, so we can get to know each other, so it's serious and I need to make sure everything is perfect,” with her health she would be bedridden for the next weekend and you really should have just taken them to the restaurant, but no, your mom was too proud for that! She needed to cook food to show off her cooking skills, which she had, she was an amazing cook, but she wasn't healthy enough to do all of this, yet here she was doing exactly that!
“I'm going to start washing the dishes,” at this point there was no use in arguing and you needed to get this mess cleaned up.
Exactly 2 hours later the doorbell rang, and you jumped like you got burnt even though you were tired and sore from everything, but at least the dinner was ready and absolutely perfect.
You opened the doors to see them standing there, with Astrid nervously messing around with the leaf of the rose she was carrying. Why was she like this? This-this- you just wanted to squeeze and hug her and never let her go! Lydia seemed to be quite nervous as well, seeing as she was almost bouncing from one foot to another, so, overall all four of you were just nervous messes and it showed.
Astrid immediately hugged you and that helped. It helped both of you a lot as you just relaxed into the embrace. “This is either going to be a disaster or a great night there won't be an in-between,” Astrid whispered to you as she gave you the rose and you couldn't agree more so you hoped it would be perfect.
“Hope for the best, prepare for the worst?” you whispered back and thanked her for the rose befo turning to greet Lydia as well.
“That smells delicious, did you and your mom make the food?” Lydia asked as you stepped into the apartment.
“Mostly mom, I hate to say this, but cooking isn't my strongest suit,” you admitted sheepishly and placed the rose in an empty vase. You immediately led them right into the dining room because your mom would already be getting the table ready.
“You actually looked cute as a kid,” Astrid commented offhandedly and your eyes widened, there shouldn’t be any photos of you hanging on the walls! They were all in the photo albums so where did she even see that?! And then you saw it too, the picture of you when you were a kid and worst of all it was the most embarrassing one ever taken of you, the one from the Halloween where you were dressed as a pumpkin. “Orange suits you,” Astrid teased and all you could do was glare at your mother who traitorously hung the photo on the wall while you were distracted by everything else that needed to be done.
“I’m going to find some embarrassing photos of you, just you wait,” you grumbled and that suddenly gained you a surprising ally in the battle, as Lydia patted you on the shoulder.
“Oh, I can show you lots of them,” Lydia promised you and maybe this night would be perfect after all, despite the embarrassing start.
“No! You can't!” Astrid tried to intimidate the Lydia into backing down but you were already leaning closer to the woman.
You put your hand up, as if you were about to whisper, but you spoke loud enough for Astrid to clearly hear you. “I would be very, very happy to exchange the embarrassing photos I took of Astrid enjoying the cutest things imaginable when we were at the amusement park for those photos that you just mentioned,” you proposed, much to Lydia’s liking and the two of you shook hands. It was a deal, one that would benefit both of you.
“I've been betrayed,” Astrid dramatically lamented.
“Oh, don't worry, dear we can have our own little exchange,” you froze when you heard your mother saying that.
She did not just suggest that to Astrid!
“Mom!” you cried out, genuinely afraid because not only did your mother have the pictures she was more than willing to share the stories.
“You know, I had to ask Alex what your name was because all she,” your mom pointed at you, “would ever talk about was Chihuahua this, Chihuahua that, ever since the two of you met. She had a crazy crush on you, I'm telling you,” and your mom wasn't paying any attention to your protests and was instead having the time of her life embarrassing you and revealing your secrets.
And the damn Chihuahua was eating it all up.
Like the hungry demon that fed on embarrassment of unfortunate people.
“How about you just sit down and we can eat?” you suggested and pulled the chair out for Astrid to sit down on. And you chose that chair on purpose, because it was the furthest from your mom, so you could do damage control.
Astrid, instead, took one look at the seating plan you had in mind and took the seat next to the one you so carefully chose for her.
“I think your mom and I have a lot to talk about,” Astrid gave you a quick kiss as a consolation for what was about to transpire, and you just stood there, ready to say goodbye to your dignity. At least you could do the same to her and listen to her embarrassing stories from Lydia.
“This means war, Chihuahua,” you promised, but she just grinned.
“My dear Barnacle, whatever you learn won't be half as bad as what I'm about to learn,” she was so sure of that, and to make things even worse, you were sure of that as well. This was, truly, a war you couldn’t even hope to win.
~X~ Five months later ~X~
Astrid’s birthday was quickly approaching and you had the best idea ever! The most fitting gift for her birthday! Nothing, absolutely nothing could have worked as well as the gift you had in mind, and the grin on your face was something you could not suppress even if you wanted to, so here you were working at the library with the most ridiculously happy grin on your face.
If you weren’t in a library you were sure you’d be whistling or singing with how happy you were.
“You're actually a bit scary when you are this happy, you know that?” Alex suddenly commented there was no malice in his voice, he was just stating the fact.
“I figured out the perfect gift for Astrid,” you told him and you just knew that he would have whistled if you weren't in the library.
“I know I keep saying this and I’ll keep saying it for a long time, but I don't know whether it's wild or actually to be expected to see you two together. Last year you were at the each other's throats and now you are girlfriends,” he was right, you and Astrid have been dating for almost half a year now and it just so happened that her birthday was next week. “So, lover girl, what do you have in mind?”
You leaned in and whispered the answer into his ear and his eyes widened almost comically large as he turned to look at you. “No, no, Y/N,” your grin just got even bigger. “No, you can't.”
“Yes I can, yes I will,” there was no talking you out of this, the gift was too perfect!
“I have 3 words for you,” he suddenly got completely serious.
“Yeah?” you were almost worried to hear them, but your mind was set.
“Rest in peace.”
And it didn't matter that you were in the library you laughed your ass off. He was being too dramatic, surely Astrid wouldn't kill you.
Right?
~X~
Lydia couldn't remember the last time she was this at ease. Free from her show, having a healthy, repaired relationship with Astrid and with her dad and Delia occasionally haunting her. Everything was peaceful and quiet as she sipped on her coffee.
"I'll kill you, Barnacle!" Astrid shouted from her room and Lydia barely nearly choked on her coffee. You and Astrid still bantered, but this time Astrid actually sounded serious with that threat.
"Think of all the cleaning!" your half-panicking, half-amused shout came next, and Lydia honestly prayed that you didn't do anything too stupid to get Astrid to banter with you. Actually, she was probably hoping for too much, you had a strange fixation with making each other as annoyed and willing to banter as humanly possible and it went for both of you. She did not want to think about what the outcome of all of that frustration was or would eventually be especially seeing as the two of you would start living together once you started going to college.
You ran down the stairs as fast as humanly possible and jumped over her sofa to hide from Astrid. Well, hide was generous, as you snickered next to Lydia. Really, Astrid only had to come downstairs and she would find you immediately
"Y/N, don't provoke her on her birthday," she lightly chastised you, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't amused. A bit worried and maybe a tad bit concerned but amused, because as annoyed as Astrid would seem during the banter she could see that glimmer in her daughter's eyes. She knew Astrid was having fun even if she wouldn't readily admit it.
"Not my fault she has no sense of humor. The gift is perfect," you whispered, barely holding back from laughing.
Before Lydia could further question you, she heard Astrid running down as well. "Get this demon spawn pretending to be a dog back where it belongs! Right with you in the deepest depths of hell!"
A chihuahua. You got Astrid, a chihuahua.
Lydia laughed as she looked at her daughter. Despite the anger in Astrid's voice the youngest Deetz couldn't resist actually petting the puppy and it somehow seemed to like her which would probably mean that the rest of you were doomed.
“See, she likes you!” you laughed as well and pointed at the Chihuahua.
“Nonsense,” Astrid said but the blush on her face gave away how she actually felt. Lydia remembered how much Astrid wanted a dog as a child and maybe Chihuahua wasn't the first choice her daughter would have made when she was a child, but she would have been happy regardless of the breed. And seeing her with a dog now brought a smile to Lydia's face.
“I guess I have to keep it,” Astrid tried to play it cool, as she looked at the puppy. “I'm going to call you Barnacle, Barny for short so we don't confuse both barnacles,” she said the second part while glaring or at least trying to glare at you as you went and bravely walked over to her and instead of killing you as she promised she would Astrid just lightly kissed you on the lips.
“See, that's perfect,” you pet the puppy only for it to bite you or at least bite you as hard as the puppy could. “See and she hates me just like you did! Truly a perfect gift if I can say so myself,” you pointed out.
The three of you just laughed at that and that's how Astrid got stuck with the dog.
~X~
If a year ago someone approached you and told you that you would no longer be working for Delia because she went and got scammed and died out of embarrassment, yes you were going along with that version of events, and that you would actually be moving in with Astrid as you were getting ready to start college and that you would be together and having a Chihuahua named Barnacle you would have just laughed at them because it would have been the most ridiculous story you ever heard.
But that was a year ago, back when both Delia and Charles were alive and well, back when Astrid was the most annoying, infuriating person you've ever met instead of just being the most annoying, infuriating person you loved and things really were a lot different.
You spent the day unpacking, which was actually kind of nostalgic given packing and unpacking was part of your job while you worked for Delia and now the apartment you and Astrid were renting was pretty much ready for you. Well, aside from the bedroom, that was the last room to deal with. There were some interior design choices to be made but overall the apartment really was perfect.
“Your passion for architecture is paying off, this looks amazing,” Astrid commented as she stepped inside the living room from the kitchen. She was busy unpacking everything meant for the kitchen. All the while you were busy arranging the living room mixing everything that both of you loved. So, now the living room didn’t look like one person's living space, but rather the combination of the two of you.
You snorted and looked at her. “Sure, tease. You know what that'll get you later,” you couldn't hold back a smirk as she blushed. You sat on the sofa and turned the TV on letting it fill in the silence because neither you nor Astrid were all that talkative unless there was a proper conversation to be had.
If one of you got passionate about something, then yeah you were talking and yapping and basically wouldn't stop speaking but otherwise it was fairly quiet with occasional communication done mostly through glances and silent signs.
“What can I say? You are rather fun to tease,” she told you and even though you you weren't looking at her right now you could tell what was on her mind.
"Heh, Chihuahua," you grinned, leaning your head back and closing your eyes. The sofa sinking slightly next to you made your grin widen.
A shiver ran down your spine when you felt a perfect nail gently, almost tantalizingly teasingly, go down your forearm. "Mhm, how about you shut me up then? If it annoys you so much?" Astrid whispered and you swallowed hard. Since when did her voice have such an effect on you? Right. Since you got together.
You turned slightly to look at her. "Now that's just barbaric," you whispered back, only now noticing how close to you she was, mere inches separated your faces, and you had to resist the urge to look at her lips, fearing that glance would be your undoing. You both still had work to do. The bedroom wasn't ready, because you decided that would be a task you would finish together.
Astrid pulled back a bit, but she placed the tip of her finger on the corner of her lips. Fucking chihuahua, knowing exactly what she was doing as you looked down and instinctively leaned closer to her. "I wouldn't mind, if the approach is correct and what I'm saying isn't important," she looked so confident, raising her hand and caressing your cheek before sliding it to the back of your head and pulling you closer.
You stopped resisting and turned, getting on your knees and leaning over her with your palm pressing right next to her head, and you could see in her eyes that she had you exactly where she wanted you. "Everything you say is important," you could feel her breath against your skin as you both leaned closer.
"Even when I annoy you?" she asked, so close now you could feel her lips against yours. She looked so confident. So sure of herself, but the tremble of her hand gave her away. The bedroom would have to wait.
"Especially when you annoy me, just means I should listen more carefully," you closed the traces of the distance left and kissed her, humming at how soft her lips were.
"Mhm, Barnacle," she relaxed, holding you close, hands slipping underneath your shirt.
"Yeah, that's very romantic, Chihuahua," you chuckled, peppering kisses from her ear to her jaw Taking in the sound of her soft breaths as sheep gave him to her needs and desires.
"It is," she laughed, slightly out of breath as you tugged at her shirt and lifted it up a bit "It means you're hard to get rid of, and that's exactly what I want. To be unable to get rid of you for a long, long time," she said and never before did that word sound so sweet.
Taglist: @alexkolax @osnapitzmel1 @bee-keeping @nebthetautora @lololauser
@nwestra @rroyale-109 @gemz5 @social-pomegranate @mirage018
@the-thing-withfeathers @hello-mtf @leafanonsforest @jaxon-nathaniel-drake @niqmandu
Masterlist / First part / Previous Part
A/N: And that's another story complete. I hate to say this, but Astrid really wasn't as inspiring as I hoped she would be, still, I'm satisfied with how the story turned out.
#astrid deetz x female reader#astrid deetz x reader#astrid deetz#x reader#x female reader#jenna ortega x reader
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You said something about Azul's darling having children healing his childhood trauma. ANGST WARNING!! AND BULLYING!
This gave me an idea, he was bullied for being slow and different from other kids from the original plot. In this yandere au, that can be twisted into how he's such a loser, he'll probably never be good enough for a darling to accept him. He's so fat, not even a kind and pitiful darling, would want him. How the other mers think he's so stupid that he'd fumble trying to catch his darling and that they'll just be claimed by another, cooler, yandere. Laughing at him all the while so and flexing how their wonderful talents and skills would be enough to steal away a darling's heart, unlike him.
I can imagine how much this'll break his self esteem and brand him as a "weak yandere" to the other fishies. Azul would strive to be the opposite of all this, he would plan to take away their special abilities to "win a darling over" and make it his own, as his unique magic forms through sheer spite. He's so jaded and the thoughts of not being good enough to have a darling still ingrained in him. He probably won't fall in love with MC until after his overblot. Having the internal belief that, no darling would want a loser like him.. He probably won't care that MC is a darling at first and is just planning to use her as leverage against the other yanderes. Hence, taking over her only place to live. It benefits him as well since he'll be able to open another branch of the Mostro lounge and attract the other yanderes.
But then something changes. MC does something while they are inside the blot space. He realizes that.. she sees more in him than anyone ever had. Even if MC says so only in passing cause she's reasonably pissed- He can't help but focus on those specific words, ignoring the rest of her rant. Suddenly, he feels whole, and he knows she doesn't want to share this feeling with anyone. Suddenly...
He's already drafting a contract after their visit in the coral sea museum, giggling to himself as he marks that day their first date....
I hope you find this idea as interesting as I did!! I love Azul 😁
I really love asks for the yandereverse, because there are so many ways that the charas’ backstories can change. Azul’s bullying making him insecure when it comes to his darling is perfect, and it kind of works with how the Coral Sea sees yanderes and darlings. I also love Azul, I love me an evil mafia man.
The Coral Sea is an anti-darling rights area, so yanderes have more freedom to do what they want in order to take their darlings for themselves. And yanderes are supposed to be strong and tough, how else do they keep their darlings safe and with them? The kids of the Coral Sea know that well.
And Azul wasn’t that. He was slow, and weak and a scaredy-catfish crybaby who hid inside a pot. HE was supposed to be a yandere? That was genuinely surprising to nearly all his former classmates. And they made sure he knew that. Their teasing was relentless….
‘Are you sure they weren’t wrong? You’re not supposed to be slow and stupid if you’re like us.’
‘He’ll probably lose his darling.’
‘I’d hate to be them, he’s so fat and icky.’
….And at the same time they rub salt into the wound. After all, they’re fast and strong and smart and talented and good looking. They’ll get their darlings no problem, while he will be left alone and broken hearted watching his darling being with someone else. All the bullying broke him down over a while, he started to think it was right.
But despite all the bullying, Azul still tries his hardest to stop being the weak yandere his peers deemed him as. And in a form of vengeance, he’ll take away the special abilities they shoved in his face to remind him how inferior he was, After all, the yanderes that bullied him have their own insecurities that they want to hide from their darlings, so he’ll take their very best away to make himself better for his future darling. He’ll make himself better so that whoever he falls for won’t have to be disgusted by him. (While making his bullies as disgusting to their darlings as they said he’d be .)
But… He just can’t forget the years of bullying ingrained into him. What darling would want him? What darling would love him when he’s just a dim-witted octopus? That denial blinds him up till when he finally meets you.
Once he’s aware of you being a darling he sees the opportunity, not love. (Because he doesn’t deserve you, so why bother?). After all, what would all your yanderes do or pay to have you for themselves? No price is too high when it comes to a darling, and so, getting you under his thumb is his first priority. Getting you out of Ramshackle and under his control/ownership will make this so much easier. But there’s one big problem.
You won’t sign his contracts. You told him you’d rather never go home than sign one. I imagine after that point, he starts trying to find loopholes to get you to sign. And your friends are his best bet. So he tricks Ace, Deuce and Grim into being indebted to him, so that you’ll feel obligated to help them. But that didn’t work, because (to be honest, you’re grateful for the alone time) you just let them be stuck in a contract with him. Fortunately, Crowley got involved and you had to go into a contract with him.
But unfortunately, instead of accepting his offer to stay at Octavinelle till the time limit was up, you proceeded to stay over in Savanaclaw. He’d never been more angry before in his life. The idea of you sleeping with and doing seven-only-knows with those beasts never made him more jealous. The smell of Leona Kingscholar on your skin made him want to add onto the debt the prince owed in vengeance.
But not wanting to spoil anything more, in the blot space your attempts to pull him out of his self-loathing, change him. He sees that you care about him, that you don’t think he’s a not a stupid, ugly octopus and that instead you see him as something more. Someone who’s hardworking, intelligent, and even cute. And that moment, he truly realizes his love for you. You’re not like the others, you see something in him that no one ever had before. He doesn’t get that you’re saying it only for the sake of your, and maybe a little of his, life. Those words echo in his head. You love him, all his bullies were wrong, his darling isn’t disgusted by him. He feels whole….
…..And he doesn’t want to share this feeling. This complete joy.
He needs you to be his. He’ll draft another contract, one intended to make sure no one else will ever be able to steal you from him and ensure you’ll be by his side, on the land and in the sea. The museum will be like a date to him, hearing your kind words about his childhood appearance makes that younger self cry with joy.
You, quite literally, became the center of his world. And he intends to hold that same place as he becomes a part of your world. Whether you like it or not.
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Hello Anon, I hope you won't mind if I screenshot pieces of your ask, I read it but my muse vaulted over your first 3 questions and then took off on your 4.1, and now here we are, so I'm just going to chop these up and post them depending on what I can come up with.
This started out with TBTP!Shunsui never getting his memories and then kind of spiralled. He still doesn't get his memories but... well, you'll see. It really ran away from me lmao. No thoughts behind it, just vibes, I hammered this out in like fifteen minutes and it felt like a fever dream.
Starrk would definitely have complicated feelings about it. Like at the start when he agreed to go back, I think a part of him even then expected for the entire thing to end with his death, even if they manage to neutralize Aizen and defeat the Wandenreich, but whether or not he manages to survive it all, he definitely has no plans to get together with TBTP!Shunsui.
For one, obviously they're not the same person. I wouldn't say they're completely different, and I imagine TBTP!Shunsui would be a lot closer to Winter War!Shunsui, whom Starrk had met first. But TYBW!Shunsui is the one Starrk knew best, and TYBW!Shunsui suffered quite a few losses in a very short time. Like to Shinigami, even a hundred years probably isn't that much, especially to one who's already lived over a thousand years. But TYBW!Shunsui lost everyone he'd known for a thousand years in like the space of a week, he lost his mentor, he lost his closest friend, and on top of all that, he had the weight of a war fuelled by a grudge a thousand years in the making dumped on his shoulders, he had the duties of Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13 dumped on him, he had the deaths of literal thousands of Shinigami dumped on him, and then in this AU he had to be the one to carry everyone else through another 7 years of waging an endless bloody war that after a certain point neither side was ever going to win, but he had no way of stopping it either.
That sort of thing would take its toll on anyone. TYBW!Shunsui was a man changed by loss and grief and more responsibilities than he'd ever wanted. I imagine he would've had very little time or cause to still remember how to be the person he was before the Quincy War when he still had it in him to relax and enjoy life.
But I also imagine that Starrk being there had helped. Starrk has always been a quick learner, and it's not like he'd really known anyone there save Shunsui. He stuck close to his Shinigami, watched and learnd the way Shunsui strategized for each assault and skirmish, contributed what he could where he could, pitched in by keeping the Fourth Divison alive and functioning, shouldered some of that weight by finally wielding all his strength and mowing down entire battlefields of Quincy on his own just so other Shinigami wouldn't have to and Shunsui would thereby have one less thing to worry about.
And in the precious stolen moments in-between, Shunsui had someone to go home with, someone who guarded him while he slept, someone to distract him from the war (from his failure to protect yet more Shinigami fallen in battle under his command), someone to sit beside who knew the same kind of loneliness and didn't recoil from it, who was content to hold him and share in his silence when he just needed a moment to breathe.
I imagine there wouldn't have been many things to be happy about, but I think they'd still manage to carve out some happiness between them. Starrk had known very little of things like human food and clothes and games and books. Shunsui had been delighted to introduce whatever he could to him. They learned about each other, about their similarities and differences, about their strengths and weakness and hopes and fears, secrets exchanged in the dead of night in the safety of a shared office, a shared bed, a shared home. And even in the midst of a war and so much death and destruction, they managed to build something beautiful and strong, something that would've been long-lasting too under any other circumstances.
Because then Shunsui dies, a year before the true end of the war, and Starrk had perhaps not seen it coming even though there was never any real guarantee on a battlefield, but it had also been an unspoken certainty of his, something he knew the way he knew bones were breakable and blood was red and murder was easy--the day Kyouraku Shunsui dies would be the day Coyote Starrk would also fall. With any luck, Shunsui would only die over his dead body, but fortune has never favoured Starrk, and he'd figured the other way was fine too. That way, Starrk wouldn't be yet another person in a long line of people to have left Shunsui behind and alone once again, and he'd thought it would make no real difference. If Shunsui dies, Starrk would surely be minutes behind, by his own hand or otherwise.
That doesn't happen. It doesn't happen because the rest of the Gotei had gotten over any qualms they might've had about working with an Arrancar or even Aizen's former Primera Espada years ago, and besides, Starrk had already broken all the known rules and beliefs several years back by becoming a whole soul and evolving into something no one had ever seen before. He couldn't really be considered a Hollow anymore, for all that there was no other name for him either. And with all that he'd done - following Shunsui into battles and meetings and everything in-between with the kind of steadfast devotion the tide held for the moon, burning the midnight oil right alongside all the other captains and lieutenants because even a hopeless war generated paperwork and headaches as much as it did low supplies and emergency triage and lists and lists of dead, powering through enemy forces to save even just one more Shinigami with the kind of firepower rivalled only by the likes of Kurosaki Ichigo and Aizen Sousuke, and carrying the Fourth on his back by sheer force of will and a truly terrifying mind that had soaked up every medical text he'd had time to read and every medical procedure he'd had time to learn or extrapolate or straight-up invent out of fatal necessity - Starrk had long become a pillar the Gotei 13 couldn't do without, a figure at their helm as familiar and reassuring as the long unwavering shadow Kyouraku had cast. And in the devastating wake of even their Captain-Commander's death, with only a handful of captains and their squads remaining, they couldn't afford another titanic loss on its heels.
And, as Hirako had been the one to point out, all glittering ruthless eyes borne from desperation and pragmatism--Kyouraku Shunsui had protected Soul Society with his very last breath; if they were to ever meet again, would Starrk even be able to look Shunsui in the eye if he wouldn't even stick around to try and defend the place and people Shunsui had loved enough to die for?
(A year later, Mimihagi would use the exact same argument to receive the answer he needed to send the second envoy the Soul King had chosen back in time to save the world.)
(Perhaps the lesson Starrk had learnt best at Shunsui's side had been the one of duty. Or perhaps it had been the one Shunsui hadn't even meant to teach but Starrk had learnt anyway, had held closest to his heart, the one of love.
They were about the same thing in the end, when it came to what Starrk would do for Shunsui.)
Hirako had even dragged Ichigo to stand before him, Isane too, each and every last person Starrk would even nominally call a comrade and was still alive--Hirako had put them all in front of him, and then he'd asked if Starrk could really go to his grave in peace.
The bastard had gotten his way in the end, and Starrk had never come as close to hitting someone unprovoked as he had right then. He'd been left the sole survivor once again, left to soldier on alone, and some days, he has no idea how he keeps going.
(Some days, Starrk had wondered, still wonders, if Shunsui had known his death was coming, or had known what would happen should his death come to pass, so he had made… arrangements accordingly. Most days, Starrk knows it's best not to know the answer because it would probably be the one thing he would never be able to forgive Shunsui for.)
So Starrk had hung on for another year and done his best for what was left of the Shinigami, for the dwindling pockets of civilians, for Kurosaki Ichigo. Anyone with eyes could tell though, that he'd just been waiting until the war was over one way or another, until the day he could lie down and not wake up again.
Of course, as it turned out, he wasn't even allowed that much, and a lifetime later, Starrk is still alive because death just won't take him, or he just won't die.
He has zero desire to even look at TBTP!Shunsui. The first time he has to anyway and sees two eyes instead of one, it's like a knife to the gut. They're lighter too, somehow, without the void of grief and exhaustion and quiet despair bruising their depths. His gaze still holds a weight to it, he's still loved and lost before, he's still lived a thousand years with all the joys and sorrows that entails, but he hasn't lost everything, hasn't lost those dearest to him, hasn't had to pick himself up and force himself to march on anyway towards a dead-end future, and for a moment, it's like Starrk is looking at a stranger.
He thinks, randomly, bizarrely, in those first few minutes of their second first meeting, that it's a good thing he always wears gloves when he goes out.
He thinks, madly, nonsensically, that if he were to touch this Shunsui now, it would stain him black with desolation, or red with blood that would never run dry.
He thinks, abruptly, hysterically, that he'd somehow forgotten the hole Shunsui had left behind with his death, as if the past year had numbed him so thoroughly that it had frozen even his grief in its tracks, except it all comes roaring back now, an empty pit that's always been waiting for him to remember it, threatening to drown him whole. Frankly, he would welcome it if he thought it would kill him once and for all.
It's frighteningly easy to pretend nothing is wrong. Perhaps it shouldn't be. He's never been one to emote outwardly, always been good at displaying nothing but impassivity without even trying, to the point where Shunsui had remarked more than once that it was difficult to read him (and then pouted and asked what Starrk was thinking - don't leave him out, it's hurtful - and he'd always want to know even when Starrk was clearly thinking of nothing important at all).
He greets this Shunsui politely, with the courtesy an Academy student should afford a captain, he makes smalltalk as necessary, he doesn't look at anyone in particular but also doesn't avoid anyone's gaze, and then he lets himself fall silent as Ichigo draws everyone's attention again with no deliberate effort whatsoever when he blows up at something his cousin says.
It's easy to fade into the background after that, to fade into himself, retreating into his own mind with the ease of long practice. Once upon a time, he could spend years like this, buried so deep in his own head that when he surfaced and became aware again, the sand dunes would've shifted and changed, and new mountains of bones would've already formed around him.
The few times eyes turn back to him, he nods in all the right places and responds at all the right times and pretends the world hasn't become white noise in his ears.
(He'd had these episodes a few times during the war, never when there was immediate work to be done or a fight to be fought, but in their downtime, it would sneak up on him. It had never lasted more than a couple hours at a time, but he'd scared the hell out of Shunsui the first time, had found himself at the Fourth when he'd woken, but then he'd explained, and Shunsui's expression had been unreadable but his eyes had looked pained. He'd shaken his head when Starrk had said he could leave him alone or just smack him out of it, either way he'd come back sooner or later, but Shunsui had refused, and every time it had happened after that, Starrk would wake with his head pillowed against Shunsui's shoulder or chest or thigh, Shunsui's arm wrapped around him or his bulk at his back and a blanket draped around them both, warm and comfortable and never alone.)
(He is alone again now, and he doesn't understand why it's so difficult to relearn something he had known for far longer than he hadn't.)
He's here to check Fujiwara's Hohou - Shunsui's cousin, Shunsui never mentioned her, she must've died long ago in the future - so he does that when he's cued and works her through the problem and suggests a few exercises, and that's that. He practically sleepwalks through the rest of this little gathering, barely manages to feel vaguely relieved when it looks like they can all finally part ways, and hazily wonders if he can get away with booting Ichigo back to his own room for the night. He's pretty sure he's going to end up scaring the kid if he falls even further into his own mind.
Then Shiba Kaien does him a favour out of the blue, nagging Ichigo until the kid snaps and irritably agrees to spend the night at his family's compound. Distantly, Starrk is aware of being invited as well, but that's easy enough to refuse, citing an exam in the morning - or maybe he says assignment due, he's not sure - and the Clan Head says next time then, and- and-
He blinks and it's time to go. Nothing seems amiss so he inclines his head at the captains and lieutenant, bids Ichigo and Fujiwara farewell, and then takes his leave in a flash of Shunpou.
Starrk has seconds to feel nebulously pleased with himself, another second to remind himself to avoid the Eighth like the plague from here on out, and then even that's gone as he locks himself in his room, and the rest of the night is lost. He is more than happy to lose it.
He'd had exactly zero presence of mind to catch the way Kyouraku Shunsui had been staring - if discreetly - at him the entire time, from under his hat or out of the corner of his eye, and by the end of the entire encounter, the man had even shaken his kimono over his hands to hide the way they'd slowly curled into white-knuckled fists.
Shunsui doesn't know how no one else had felt it, bleeding into the air like a severed artery--a bottomless chasm of loneliness and grief that had felt like it should've been screaming with the agony of it, except there'd only been the deafening silence of barren wastelands, an emptiness reflected in Starrk’s perfectly blank eyes and perfectly sculpted non-expression, and Shunsui doesn't understand why he alone had evidently just taken a metaphorical dive straight into the man's very soul.
(Starrk would've, if he'd noticed. After all, a lifetime ago, Kyoukotsu had loved bringing his wolves back to her soulscape to play with, and Katen had often visited his soulscape in turn for tea and conversation. His and Shunsui's souls had long learned to recognize each other, mingling in a way that had transcended all possible boundaries, and in the face of that, what did a little thing like time and space matter?)
When Starrk had left, Shunsui had almost followed, had wanted to with an instinctual sort of urgency he couldn't even explain to himself, let alone anyone else. Several times, he'd almost reached out while the others were talking, to provide comfort perhaps, or to take some of the pain even, and it had only been the equally intuitive certainty that doing so would break something in Starrk that had ultimately stopped him each time.
"Kyouraku, is something wrong?" Ukitake asks once the others are all gone, because of course his best friend had noticed something off with Shunsui, even if not with Starrk.
Shunsui reaches up and tugs on the brim of his hat and doesn't know how to explain that wrong could not even begin to cover whatever the hell had just happened.
His insides are still shuddering like they've been ripped out very slowly. He still wants to run all the way to the Academy this instant. And he feels-
He feels inexplicably like he's lost something beloved and doesn't know if he'll ever get it back.
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I am so glad i had friends and people who looked out for me when i was in my teens and they were in their 30s-50s
I discovered lots of cool stuff i never would have been exposed to in my own age group and family
I probably wouldn't have bothered to read much because i got so much blatant hatred for it (and the things i learned from reading)
I probably would have thought a lot of really fucked up stuff was *normal*
And of course you know, all those other 17 years olds DEFINITELY have enough life experience to be out in the world and say that things are different, that they can be different, that choices are made and have to be made, but great changes are possible
But yeah, prob should have stayed only talking to people like 2 years older than me so i could definitely have gone on thinking that i existed to work and my parents are right, that i need to get pregnant asap or else i'll die at 19 from not being able to afford to eat, when a kid would guarantee me a mother's role in society
Yknow, fundie shit
You know who else says i shouldn't have been talking to anyone outside my approved safe group?
The fucking evangelical cult
Get the fuck outside.
Touching grass isn't good enough for some people. They need 6ft of full body contact with the dirt.
'all age gaps problematic' people are so wild. "what can a 19 year old and a 28 year even have in common??? what do they talk about??" BITCH THEIR HOBBIES???????
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Fanboy
Pairing: Law x Reader
NSFW
Summary: You get a little more than you bargained for when you decide to clean your Captain's office for him and stumble upon his smutty fanfiction. Warnings: Very Mild Angst, Smut, Fem!Reader, Roleplay, Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Edging, Minor Dacryphilia, Petnames (use of sweetheart and good girl) Word Count: 7.6k Notes: This was originally supposed to be a sub 2000 word silly one shot about Law writing Sora smut. As you can see, it very quickly got out of hand. I hope you all enjoy it!
You have come to terms with the fact your Captain does not and will never want you how you want him.
It was hard, at first, to hear his silky voice and see his strong hands and not imagine him saying what you want to hear as he holds you against the wall, fingers slipping slowly up your thighs to where you need him most. It got even harder a few years in, after he started wearing perpetually open shirts and coats, showing off the tattoos you so desperately want to trace your tongue across. But you’re finally starting to accept that he simply doesn’t feel the same. His eyes don’t linger on you when you’re around. He doesn’t show you any leniency (not that you would expect any, of course, but it’s hard not to notice his favoritism for Bepo when he forgives him in an instant for a transgression he had you swab the deck for). He doesn’t accept your help when you offer it, no matter how badly he needs it.
He just doesn’t really want anything to do with you, or at least no more to do with you than anyone else on the ship. Penguin and Shachi, who unfortunately clocked your affection for your Captain years ago, have come up with a long list of excuses as to why he hasn’t shown any signs of affection.
“He’s shy.”
“He gets embarrassed easily.”
“He’s worried about the power gap.”
“He only looks at you when you aren’t looking.”
“Yelling is how he shows his affection.”
And of course, your personal favorite.
“He’s just a nerd. He doesn’t know how to act around women.”
Shachi has repeated this one a lot, and as always you immediately dispute it. “That cannot possibly be true, Shachi.”
“Why not?”
“Look at him!”
“I know what he looks like. Doesn’t change the fact he gets nervous.”
“Captain has never, for even a single moment, shown any sort of hesitation or shyness in front of me. And he’s a grown man, a handsome one, not to mention a wanted pirate. You honestly expect me to believe he’s some shy little nerd who can’t bring himself to talk to me? He just doesn’t like me, Shachi. And that’s fine. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”
“Handle what?” Penguin’s voice echoes in the small room he and Shachi share, which you’ve decided to invade for the day.
“Her pining for Captain.”
“Ah.”
You huff. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like it’s like…a fact of life. Something so easy to brush past.”
Shachi narrows his eyes in confusion. “I thought you said that’s what you wanted to do. Be casual about it, and all.”
“Yeah, I want to. It feels different when you do it.” You’re pouting. You hate that you’re pouting.
Penguin gives you a pitying smile, dripping with good natured sympathy that makes you clench your jaw. “It’s tough, isn’t it?” He sits on the edge of his bed, careful not to shift you too much. He pats your shoulder, tutting quietly. “It’s hard to get over somebody you don’t really want to get over.”
“Yeah,” you mutter. You finally lift your head, and once you make eye contact, his smile turns a little more teasing.
“I know a great guy you could use as a rebound.”
You sigh. “Is it you?”
He laughs. “Who’s to say? You don’t need him yet.” His smile softens again, something more genuine. “But know that if you really do give up, there will be other guys. Other chances. Give this one a good shot, a real one, and if it doesn’t work out? Come talk to us, and it’ll all be alright.”
Shachi pipes up as well. “It will work out, really. But if it doesn’t…” he wiggles his eyebrows, and you can’t help but finally give them the laugh they were clearly aiming for. Which becomes a full on giggle fit once they light up and give each other a massive high five at their victory. The room is warm, and you finally forget your worries for a moment.
“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Law’s voice cuts through you like ice, and your laughter stops in an instant. Shachi and Penguin are unphased, of course, still smiling freely.
“I just got off of my shift, Captain. I was going to take a nap, but…” Penguin pokes your side, and you let out a soft squeak as you curl in on yourself. You don’t miss the way Law’s eyes narrow slightly at the contact, the way he seems to focus in on the noise. He must be annoyed with you, with how you’re taking up space somewhere you don’t belong.
“I’m also off shift.” Your voice is small, embarrassingly so.
“I wasn’t talking to you two.” Law’s voice is just as flat and authoritative as always. He’s nothing if not born to command. You’d love to hear what commands he might give you, if–
No. Bad. Evil. Your mind betrays you, as it always does. You sit up so you can hide yourself behind Penguin, make yourself small and inconspicuous and hope that Law will stop looking at you with those beautiful piercing eyes. You don’t know how long you can be normal under such an intense gaze.
“I’m on break,” Shachi defends, causing Law’s eyes to shift over to him. You can’t help but let out a sigh of relief as you feel the pressure of his gaze leave you, and you wrap your arms lightly around Penguin, allowing your forehead to fall forward and press into his back. You can feel the rumble of a laugh working its way through his chest, though you can’t figure out why.
Law’s voice is significantly harsher than before. “Well, end it.” You flinch, unused to him snapping quite so cruelly. Law may have a shorter temper than he would admit, but he never sounds quite so furious, especially not with Shachi and Penguin. He seems to realize this as well, because the next time he speaks is much gentler. “I–Just get back to work. I need everyone at their best right now.”
“Aye aye, Captain!” There’s a hint of chuckle in Shachi’s voice, for some reason. He stands, bed creaking as he does. “You can use my bed if you want to nap in here. Let Peng have his.”
You let out a soft whine, but peel yourself off of Penguin anyway. “No, it’s fine, I should get back to my room anyway. I need a nap before I do anything else.” You think you see Law nodding in approval out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn to look at him, his eyes are firmly on Shachi, glaring at his back as he leaves. Just wishful thinking on your part, as always.
Penguin softly pats your back as you walk past. “Chin up. It’ll all work out.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“What’ll work out?” Law is staring at Penguin’s hand on your back.
“Nothing!” You try not to sound panicked. You fail, of course.
His eyes narrow.
“Sorry, Captain. This is a secret just for us lowly crew members. No captains allowed!” Penguin’s smile is relaxed and easy, and it almost manages to calm you down. You would love to play along, make a little joke out of it, but the idea of him finding out petrifies you. What if he’s disgusted by the idea? Horrified enough to kick you out of the crew, your home, your family? He wouldn’t, you know that, but the image in your head is so clear. Your chest feels tight, your head fuzzy, and you think at some point you started holding your breath.
Law makes a noncommittal grunt, scowl still clear on his face, but he leaves. A small mercy.
“Hey, take a breath, please. You look like you’re gonna pass out.”
“I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”
“Are you gonna be alright to get back to your room? Do you need me to walk you?” Penguin’s hand rests gently on your elbow, and he looks ready to jump to your aid at any moment.
You give him a shaky smile. “I’ll be alright. Anxiety’s never killed anyone. Probably.” You take care to walk as steadily as you can out of the room, avoiding eye contact with your Captain, who’s waiting directly outside.
“You okay?” His voice stops you in your tracks.
“Yeah, I’m–” You see the disbelief on his face. “I’ve been better. But it’s okay. I’ll get there.”
“Are Penguin and Shachi giving you trouble? They mean well, but sometimes their jokes can go a little far. I–” He clears his throat, eyes glancing away for a moment. “I could talk to them. If you need me to.”
You chuckle. This means he really has no idea he’s the source of your anguish. Good. “Oh, no, it’s nothing like that. They’re actually helping me through something.”
He purses his lips. You imagine how soft they’d feel on yours. “Helping you through something?”
“Yeah. I’ve been struggling with it lately, and talking to them has really helped.” You stare intensely at the wall behind him, worrying that you’ll come undone and say something you can’t take back if you stare into his eyes for too long. Something about him just makes you want to melt under his gaze, and you can’t afford to give in to the impulse.
He hums, eyes briefly fluttering closed. “I see. Well, I’m glad you have their support.” Is it just you, or is his voice a bit colder than it was before? “I’ll leave you be. Have a nice nap.”
“Thanks, Captain.” You try not to run back to your room until you’re sure he can’t hear your footsteps anymore. You change out of your boiler suit, desperate to be in something more comfortable than this, and throw yourself into your bed face first. You press your face into your pillow, trying to ground yourself. You aren’t allowed to imagine what it would feel like to lay on Law’s chest instead, his hands on your back, tracing meaningless patterns into your skin. You aren’t allowed to imagine the warmth of the blankets as his, or the comfort of your weighted blanket as his arm around your back. You certainly aren’t allowed to cry about the fact that it isn’t him, and that it never will be. Because that would mean you weren’t getting over him, instead getting lost in a fantasy of what can never and will never be. And you have no time for fantasy, despite what your heart keeps trying to tell you.
You dream of him, as you always seem to.
You could cope with it, if it were simply sex. If it were about nothing more than his cock and his hands and the way his voice penetrates deep into your bones whenever you hear it, turning you pliable and needy. But today’s dream is one you’ve had before, and one you always dread.
I love you. His hands are gentle as they wrap around your waist, pulling you close. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. His nose nuzzles against your neck, tickling you and making you giggle.
I love you too, Law. I think I always have. Your hands rest on his chest, and you can feel his heart beating below your fingers, quick and thundering. You smile. Nervous?
Of course I am. Look at you. His eyes bore into yours, and you can see the affection flooding them. His nose brushes against yours, his lips growing closer, and his eyes flutter shut.
Yours shoot open.
No matter how many dreams you have about Law, you can never kiss him. How sad, that your brain can imagine a hundred ways he can fuck you and not one in which gives you the one thing you’ve been craving most.
You throw off your covers and throw on a bra, not bothering to get fully dressed. You need some air, which is unfortunate, considering the Tang won’t surface for at least another day or two. You can at least go downstairs and find a window, press yourself against the glass and pretend you’re out in the cold of the ocean, at peace with the world around you. You can avoid passing Law’s office, and hopefully that means you’ll avoid the man himself. You don’t want to burst into tears the moment you see him, and you feel too soft and fragile right now, like your edges are crumbling. Half of you is still in the dream, melting into fantasy, and being snapped into reality with a single look might shatter you.
You pad quietly out into the hallway, unsure of what time it is, not wanting to wake anyone. It’s impossible to tell what time of day it is on the Tang when you’re underwater, lit only by harsh fluorescents that constantly buzz. It’s peaceful, feeling the cold metal of the floors seep through your socks and hearing the quiet thunk of your footsteps muffled by the fabric.
“Are you heading downstairs?”
You turn to see Bepo, shifting uncomfortably on his feet, papers in hand. “Yeah, I am. Why? Do you need something?”
“Can you run these to Captain for me? I would, but–”
You see him wince as he speaks, and you immediately know what the problem is. Before you can even think about it, you’re swiping the papers from his hands easily. “Yeah, of course, big guy. I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you so much!” He’s off in an instant.
You stare at the papers, willing yourself into reality. You’re going to bring something to your captain. The man you have no other relationship with. Just doing your job. And afterwards you can go back to your room and cry all you want, if you really feel like you need to.
Law should be in his office right now, buried up to his neck in paperwork. It doesn’t feel great to add to that pile, or to let him see you so underdressed, but Bepo needed help. You can’t let him suffer just to avoid some embarrassment. You make your way down, knocking lightly against his office door.
No voice calls you inside.
Strange. He should be here. Maybe he fell asleep at his desk again. You’ve heard the others scold him for that dozens of times, and you’ve caught him yourself once or twice. He’s going to ruin his back if he keeps doing that. You crack open the door, ready to shift him into a more comfortable position, but you find your Captain isn’t actually there at all. His desk is a mess, papers everywhere, a sharp contrast from the neatly organized shelves and minimalist look of the rest of the room.
“Maybe I should tidy up for him,” you mutter to yourself. Law hates asking for help with things he believes he should be able to handle on his own, but clearly this is getting away from him. And even if he wasn’t grateful for the intrusion, at least it might lighten his load a little. You’d do nearly anything to ease your Captain’s burdens, if he’d just let you.
Before you realize it, your hands are on the papers, your former fragility forgotten as you get lost in the calm that such a mundane task brings you. You start by simply organizing the papers into stacks based on their titles and a quick skim of their opening paragraphs. You don’t read any further, not wanting to read anything not meant for your eyes, and you quickly find you’re able to organize everything into three neat stacks: medical papers, ship logs, and a third stack of anything that doesn’t fit into the previous two. You’re nearly finished when you find a title that makes you pause.
You can’t figure out what What You Can’t Have could mean, or what this bundle of papers is doing in Law’s office. Skimming the first few paragraphs doesn’t give you any explanation, until you start reading more closely and see a name: Sora.
Everyone in the North Blue knows about Sora, Warrior of the Sea, and everyone on this ship knows it more intimately than most. Your Captain’s fondness for the series and your fondness for him means you know it very well, well enough to know this is not one of the noncanonical (but still official) spinoff novels, or a novel adaptation of one of the comics. There’s a character you’ve never heard of before in this, one that, if you were a more paranoid person, you would suspect is based on you. She can’t be, of course. That would be ridiculous. But as you read her introductory paragraph, you can’t help but notice she bears a striking physical resemblance to you. Same hair and eye color, same height, same build. But she can’t be you. She’s described as seductive, enchanting, and many other things you know nobody would ever say about you.
You should put this down. But the writing style is so familiar, and so are the handwritten edits in the margins. Your captain wrote this. You had no idea this was what he did in what little spare time he has. You keep telling yourself to stop reading, to tuck it away and pretend you didn’t see it, because really, you know he wouldn’t want you to have seen it, easily embarrassed as he is. But there’s so much passion in the words, so much care, and frankly? It’s good. Really good. You think he has some real talent, in something you would have never expected him to even try. His care for the series oozes from every word, and he’s really good at building tension, and–
Oh.
Your captain hasn’t just been writing fanfiction about his favorite hero.
He’s been writing smut.
Really good smut, honestly.
You lean against the desk, completely enraptured by his work. The tension between Sora and this unnamed woman is astonishing, every single word winding you up tighter as you wait for the dam to break. Before you know it, you’re fully bent over the desk, clutching the page in your hands, trying not to rub your thighs together at the very graphic descriptions of what Sora is doing with his hands. You imagine Law’s hands, lithe and long, sliding under your shirt like Sora’s do under this mystery woman’s. You imagine his breath puffing against your ear as he instructs, be good for me, now, and maybe you can finally get what you want, just like Sora does. You imagine him moving impossibly closer, feeling his hardness press into your thigh as–
“What are you doing in here?”
You freeze. Your captain is standing in the door, papers in hand and scowl severe. If you didn’t know better, you would think for a moment his eyes lingered on the cleavage you’re showing by leaning over this far. But you do know better, so you tell yourself he’s simply observing the papers in your hands, even if his gaze seems aimed too high for that. You shoot up, papers still in hand, shirt riding up in the process, and god does it look like his eyes dip down to your exposed midriff in the process. But they don’t. You have more pressing matters than your delusions, anyway.
“Hi Captain!”
“...Hi.”
“I–Um. I was organizing your desk for you.”
His eyes linger on the three stacks of papers, humming quietly. “I see that. …Why?”
“Bepo had me run papers down to you, but you weren’t here, and–and your desk was so messy, so much messier than usual, and I was worried maybe you were overwhelmed and I thought it might help.” You’re speaking a mile a minute, clutching the papers close to your chest in some desperate attempt to ground yourself, but the sound of the papers wrinkling causes him to glance down and now you’re sure that just for a moment he was looking at your boobs and you’re far more flustered than you were when you began.
And even worse, he smiles. It’s a soft, gentle thing, which sneaks so slowly onto his face you don’t even know if he realizes it’s there. But it is. And it’s beautiful. “Thank you, then. I appreciate the thought.”
Your grip eases on the papers for a second, and the crinkling brings his attention back to them. You don’t know what gives it away, but with the way his eyes widen slightly, the way his lips part, you know that he knows what you have in your hands. The way he whispers your name, the fear in it, makes your heart clench.
“Captain–”
“Did you–I–” He takes a breath, gathers himself. “Did you read anything you weren’t supposed to?”
God, you did. You’re halfway through a sex scene, flushed and flustered and thinking about your captain in ways that are wholly and completely inappropriate. You’re panicking. You can’t let Law see how flustered you are, can’t let him realize that you were fantasizing about him, lusting after him in his office while he’s out like some kind of pervert. So, trying to turn this around on him, throw him off his rhythm, you decide to make a deeply out of character choice.
You open your mouth, taking a dramatic breath as though you're going to start reading aloud, and you can see the panic in Law's eyes. Before you can decide between reading and handing it over to spare him the embarrassment, you hear “Shambles!” as the papers in your hand are swapped with the ones he walked in with. You're momentarily disappointed, before you look down and are struck with intense and all consuming delight.
In trying to get the fanfiction out of your hands, Law has, in fact, given you more of his fanfiction to read.
You gasp quietly, cheshire cat grin widening. Law looks at you with confusion, clearly still so thrown he hasn't realized what's just transpired. In your current state, you can only think of one way to inform him.
"Her hands were soft and gentle, so small compared to his-"
"STOP." He lunges forward around the desk, powers forgotten as he decides to bullrush you to get the papers out of your hands. His hands wrap around your wrists, and before you know it you’re pinned against the desk, chests pressed together, his leg pressed between your thighs. You flush, overwhelmed by the sensation of his hard body against yours, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Do you think this is funny?”
You open your mouth to respond, but his lips are so close, and you feel something else pressing into your midriff. You make a small choked noise, and his glare doesn’t dampen.
“Are you trying to embarrass your captain?”
“I–uh–Captain–” You can barely squeak out anything, and he presses closer.
“Answer me.”
“You’re so close.”
He pauses.
He blinks.
And suddenly your captain is across the room, face bright red, holding his papers in front of his chest like a shield. “I–um.” He stares at you a moment, his eyes moving from your face to your chest to your hips and back up, and suddenly the papers shifts down in front of his crotch.
He couldn’t…
Could he?
Before you can process this, he’s speaking again, his tone far less authoritative than it was before. “How far did you read?”
“Uh–pretty far.”
You could swear his voice cracks a little as he whispers, “Oh god. This is–you were never supposed to see that.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep reading, it was just–it was really good.”
He stares at you a moment, mouth agape. “What?”
“It was–I liked it a lot. I didn’t even mean to start it, I just couldn’t figure out what pile to put it in, and then I got really invested, and–I’m really, really sorry, Captain.”
“You liked it?” His eyes are narrowed, looking at you like something dangerous, like if he shows a moment of weakness you’ll pounce. He approaches you slowly, inching closer and closer.
“...Yeah. I did. I was really impressed, actually. I didn’t know you were a writer.”
He scoffs. “I wouldn’t call myself that.”
“Why?”
“I just…don’t know if I’m good at it.” He sounds small in a way you’ve never heard him. You’ve never seen Law less than confident before. He absolutely radiates it, a constant smug grin and twinkle in his eyes. It suits him far better than slumped shoulders and wringing hands.
“Are you kidding? It was amazing. What I was able to read, anyway. I couldn’t bear to put it down.” You reach for him for just a moment, your hand ready to touch his shoulder, but something in you pulls it back. You can’t bring yourself to touch him, not as you are.
He won’t look at you. You can feel his regret in sharing, in allowing his mask to crack slightly. There’s a bitterness to his tone as he snaps at you like a wounded animal. “You expect me to believe that? That you didn’t just read it to laugh at me?”
You can’t keep the pity off of your face. His first instinct is always to believe he’ll be hurt, that an open hand is a sign of a slap, and not a kind touch. “Why on earth would I do that, Captain?”
His shoulders unknot a bit as he thinks it over. You have never done anything to hurt him, and to tease in such a cruel way is not in your nature. He’s not relaxed, not quite, but he isn’t ready to run anymore. He leans against a nearby table, parking himself at a distance but assuring you he won’t go further. “I suppose you wouldn’t. …So you really liked it?”
The way he’s looking at you is so fragile, so soft. You feel your heart clench at the sight of such a guarded man looking so adorable, though you know he would hate to be called such a thing. You can’t help the affection that leaks into your gentle smile as you look at him. “I really did.”
He huffs, trying to bring back up his walls, but he can’t hide his relief, and his continued interest. “What did you like about it?”
“I thought the descriptions were very vivid. It was…” It feels like crossing a line you can’t uncross to call it hot, but he’s looking at you so expectantly. “Very stimulating.”
Something akin to a smirk grows on his face, offset by the dust of a blush on his cheeks. His voice is an octave deeper when he speaks. “Simulating?”
You shiver. “I–uh–yes. The leads had really good chemistry. I never imagined Sora would be so…charming. And I liked the woman too, though I have to admit I didn’t recognize her name.”
He nods. “You wouldn’t. She’s an original character.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, I wanted to try my hand at something new, and I didn’t like pairing him with any of the canon characters so I just…made one up.”
You shift nervously on your feet, thinking about how remarkably familiar her description was. “So you made her just for this? Didn’t even give her a name?”
“I haven’t decided her name yet, but I’m working on it. And yeah, she’s just for this. Why?”
You want to be subtle, ease your way in, but your mind is running a mile a minute and frankly subtlety has never been your strong suit anyway. “So…is she supposed to be me?”
He shoots up so quickly he nearly falls over. “What? No! No, why would you think that?” He looks absolutely mortified, like he’s praying the floor swallows him whole. He looks about two seconds away from shambling himself out of the sub and letting the ocean take him away.
“Well in her intro, when you describe her…she looks a lot like me.”
“...She does?” He seems genuinely surprised, and you can’t help but laugh.
“Why are you asking? You’re the writer! You didn’t realize?”
“No, I…” He’s blushing to the tips of his ears. “She was just supposed to be a beautiful woman. I didn’t think that hard about what she looked like beyond that.”
“She has the same hair color and eye color as me, you describe her as around my height, and the dress she’s wearing in her intro is my favorite color.”
His shoulders are so tense they’re practically up over his ears. If his voice cracks when he yells, you’re kind enough not to acknowledge it. “I didn’t think that much about it! I just thought of a beautiful woman and I described her.”
“So when you think of a beautiful woman in your head, you see me?”
He doesn’t answer.
You try to hide your giddy smile. “That’s sweet, Captain.”
He avoids eye contact so aggressively you swear it must be hurting him at this point. “It wasn’t–I–I didn’t notice. You don’t think it’s…creepy?”
“That you think I’m beautiful?”
“That I wrote porn about a woman who looks exactly like you.”
“Oh. When you put it like that I guess it doesn’t sound great.” He tenses again, so you rush to reassure him. “But no, I don’t think it’s creepy. It’s not like you meant to, or anything. Or that you wrote about me and like, another member of the crew or something. Why would I be mad that I just happen to be exactly your type?” Your heart is beating out of your chest as you try to portray a confidence you certainly don’t feel.
“Right. Yeah. I–There’s nothing wrong with that.”
He didn’t deny it.
“And it’s…great porn, honestly.”
Your delivery is so awkward the tension finally breaks as he laughs at you. “I appreciate that. I worked hard on it. But I’m not sure on some of the descriptions.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure it reads as true to life.”
“Does it need to?”
“No, not really, fantasies don’t have to be realistic. But…I can’t help but think about it anyway. What if part of it is so unrealistic it takes you out of it entirely, and I just didn’t notice? Or didn’t know because I’ve never tried that specific thing? Do you know what I mean?”
You do. You know insecurity in your work, the way it whispers in your ear. You know that words are not enough reassurance to silence those whispers. You want to help him, even if you don’t know how you could.
“What if we…tested it? To see if it’s realistic?” You can’t believe the words that just left your mouth. From the look on his face, Law can’t either.
“What?” A beautiful crimson streaks across his face and up to his ears, heat radiating off of him.
“Oh my god. Forget I said that, that was so inappropriate, I’ll just go–”
“No!” He’s so loud you both flinch, and he seems surprised by his own objection. His long fingers are wrapped around your wrist, and you can feel his calluses brush against your skin. God, what you wouldn’t give for those fingers to be somewhere else. “No, don’t–don’t leave. I think–I would–um. I’d like that.”
You blink. “You would?”
“Just to…test it. To make sure my writing is accurate. I’m a perfectionist.”
“Right.”
“Yeah.” His eyes flicker down to where he’s holding you, and to your surprise, he doesn’t release his grip. He tugs you closer, pressing your chests together, and you can feel his warm breath in his ear. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Law.”
“What?”
The deep rumble of his voice is commanding in a way that has you rubbing your thighs together. “I want to hear you say my name. Call me Law.”
“Yes, Law.”
You can feel his smirk as he whispers the next words in your ear. “Good girl.”
Heat rushes to your face, and you bite your lip to keep from making any deeply embarrassing noises. He chuckles as he pulls away, and you see no trace of his earlier apprehension or nerves. You suppose Law has always been a good liar, always putting up the front of the proud, confident, and unshakable Surgeon of Death. What is this but another part for him to play?
“How did it start again?” He places his hands on your hips, leading you away from the desk and toward the wall. “She and Sora meet up in the club, strike up a conversation–”
“Can we skip to the good part?” You hate how needy and breathless you sound. You’re already worked up from reading, from hearing him speak, from being so close, that you think if you spend another minute without some kind of release you might explode.
He chuckles. “I guess we can skip forward a bit.” He presses you against the wall, hand sliding to your thigh. You shiver, but he stops right before his fingers slide under your shorts. “But have you been good enough to earn it?”
You whine, a pathetic, wounded sound that comes from deep within you. For a moment, you see his facade slip as he swallows, trying not to give away how much the sound turned him on. But after a moment his mask settles back firmly in place, and you’re both ready to continue the game. “Please, Law. I’ve been good. I’ll be good.”
His smile is all teeth as his fingers find their place inside of you. First one, pumping slowly and deliberately, curling to hit your sweet spot just right. He moans quietly in your ear at the feeling of it. You know his line before he says it. “Do you feel that? The way you’re pulling me in? You need me bad, sweetheart, don’t you?”
He inserts a second finger right as you open your mouth to answer. “Ahh–Yes! I need you!”
He pumps harder, faster, and his other hand starts to wander towards your chest. His lips find your neck, nipping at the point where it meets your jaw, making you gasp again. His hand gently squeezes your breast through your shirt, and he can feel your hardened nipples through the fabric. He chuckles. “Yes, you do. Nobody else can make you feel as good as I can. You know it. That’s why you’re here, that’s why you’re so drawn to me. On some level you know: it’s just you and me. We’re all there is, all that matters. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, Law! Yes!”
His free hand effortlessly removes your shirt, and you gasp as you’re exposed to the air, your back pressing into the cold wall. He removes your bra next, letting out a soft hiss of appreciation when he finally sees them fully exposed. “As beautiful as I imagined,” he whispers, seemingly to himself. You don’t remember that line.
His mouth finds your nipple easily, sucking and nipping as you threaten to come undone under his attention. His fingers are still moving, his thumb on your clit, building the tension in your body until you feel like you’re going to explode. You’re so very close to the edge, close enough that in your pleasure you forget the next part of the story for a moment.
Until his fingers leave you.
“No!” Your head slams back into the wall as you wail, tears welling up in your eyes. Law seems unaffected, pulling back from you as he slowly inserts his fingers into his mouth, savoring your taste. The only sign that you’ve shaken him is the clear strain of his cock under his jeans, desperate to be free.
His fingers leave his mouth with a pop, and he smiles at you, eyes half-lidded. “Did you think it was going to be that easy? That you would just get what you want, no questions asked?”
You whine, the sound filled with genuine despair. The room is silent for a moment as he stares at you, waiting for your next line, and you try to remember the part you’re supposed to play here. You just barely manage to grasp it, breathlessly saying, “I thought you were a better man than to leave a lady wanting.”
He slides off his tank top, revealing his beautiful tattoos to you. “Oh, honey, this isn’t about what you want. It’s about what you need. And how wonderful it’ll be, once you’re so on edge you can barely stand it, and I finally give in to you. Can you imagine it?” He pops the button of his pants next, sensually sliding them and his boxers down to expose his bare hips. “What it’ll feel like, when I’m finally inside of you?”
His cock is finally free, bobbing in the air as it leaks with precum. He looks painfully hard, and you swallow as you briefly imagine it in your mouth. You’d give almost anything to taste him right now, but that isn’t a part of the scene.
“You’ll feel so full, honey. Imagine how good it’ll feel to cum on my cock. Isn’t that worth the wait?”
“God, yes.”
“Good girl. So agreeable.” One hand finds your hips as he uses the other to line himself up. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, god, please.”
He slowly slides in, feeling the drag of every inch of his dick against your walls. He makes a strangled noise at the feeling, burying his face into your neck as he desperately tries to catch his breath. He stops once he’s fully sheathed in you, giving you both a moment to adjust.
And then another.
And another.
“Law?”
You can hear him chuckle against you. “What, darling?”
“Please, Law.”
He pretends to ponder whether or not to give in for a moment, keeping you in suspense, before he relents. He pulls away from your neck, revealing his extremely red face. His voice may be calm, but the rest of him cannot hide the effects you’re having. “What do you want, sweetheart? Use your words.”
You know the line you’re supposed to say next. She tells Sora she wants relief, wants him to move, wants anything that she can have. But you’re soft, and weak, filled with want. You cannot help but think of your dream this morning, what you were denied and what you’ve always wanted. So you speak the honest truth. “I want you to kiss me.”
He stares at you for a moment, eyes searching yours. You see your own want reflected in him, an affection that makes your chest ache. Then a smile blooms across his face, one gentler than you deserve. The line he says next is Sora’s, but what comes after is all Law. “Whatever the lady wants,” he murmurs, before his lips meet yours.
The kiss isn’t fireworks, or an all consuming flame, or any other way you’d ever heard such a thing described. It was tender, it was kind, and most importantly, it was Law. You’d never wanted anything else. It finally confirms to you that this isn’t a dream, that he’s really here, pressing you against this wall, a desire burning in him that only you can satiate. The lust is still here, the heat of your bodies intertwined, but there’s something tender and real beneath it.
Once you both pull back, panting, you look into his eyes and know the scene is well and truly over. Now it’s just you and Law, breaths mingling and hearts pounding. He smiles at you, a nervous, delicate thing, his confidence left behind with the script. He’s breathless as he whispers, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?”
You let out a soft, unsure laugh. “Is that Law talking, or Sora?”
He brushes his nose against yours. “It’s all me. It always has been.”
You can’t help your lovesick smile, dripping with a saccharine fondness you couldn’t hide if you tried. You meet his lips again, a kiss with a little more fire, a little more desperation. You try to convey everything you can’t say aloud: the years of yearning, the pain of thinking this moment would never come, the euphoria of learning you were wrong. Your hands press against his chest, his pulse fluttering under your fingers in unison with your own. You wrap your legs around his waist, desperate to pull him ever closer. He lets out a soft sound, almost a whimper, at the feeling of your lips against his as you clench around him. His tongue slips into your mouth, and once again the air around you grows ever hotter.
“Can I move?” There’s a whine to his voice. “Please.”
“Please do,” you moan, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chests together.
He needs no further instruction, thrusting harshly, hips rutting against yours. You can feel him struggle to hold himself back from pounding into you at a bruising pace. His hands grip your hips, his nails digging in as he clenches his teeth.
“You don’t have to hold back, Law. I’ll take anything you want to give me.”
He struggles to speak through his self control. “I want to enjoy this. I want to take my time.” Another deliberate thrust has you dragging your nails down his back, making him moan in your ear. “I want this to be as good as it can be for you.”
“This is–ahh!–already better than I’d ever dreamed, Law.”
One of his hands moves to your clit, his fingers starting a steady motion. “Not good enough,” he mutters. His lips find your neck, placing open mouthed kisses along its length, his teeth grazing your skin. You feel yourself coming close to cumming again, your voice growing louder, echoing through the room as you babble. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, the words please and more and Law are all you can say, all you can think. There is nothing in the world beyond the feeling of him against you, inside of you, his soft lips and callused hands.
You expect him to rip away your pleasure again, but when he briefly stills, your babbles turn to sobs anyway. He pulls back to look you in the eye, take in the sight of the tears running down your face, and you can see him soften once again. His hands and hips start moving again immediately as he presses soft kisses against your cheeks, clearing away your tears.
“Sorry, sorry, it’s alright. You’re doing great. I won’t take it from you again, I promise.” His voice is filled with pity. “You’ve been so good, you can take what you want now.” He builds you back up quickly, his hips pressing into yours even faster than before. You can feel yourself about to burst, and you slam your lips into his, moaning into his mouth. The dam finally bursts, and the pleasure nearly blinds you as you clench around him, his hips struggling to keep moving with how tightly your legs are wrapped around his waist. Your orgasm is what finally makes him break, filling you to the brim as his movements stutter.
You bask in the feeling for a moment, both panting and dripping with sweat, his cock rapidly softening inside of you. Your head lolls forward, pressing into his shoulder, and you press a kiss against his sticky skin.
“Was it worth the wait?” He tries to ask the question in a teasing tone, but you can hear the insecurity underneath it.
“It was worth everything and more.” You shift to wrap your arms tighter around him and nuzzle your face into his neck.
You can feel the rumble of his chest as he chuckles, gathering you up as he slips out of you. “Agreed.” He kisses the side of your head, an action so filled with care it nearly makes you burst into tears again. He tries to lower you onto something, making you pull him closer and whine. “I just need to set you down for a second, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”
“No.” You sound like a pouting child, making you cringe, but he laughs fondly anyway.
“Alright. A few more minutes. But I have to clean you up eventually, and then we need to find a place a bit more private to settle in, don’t you think? Or at least somewhere more comfortable.”
You hum quietly, pressing your nose further into him. You can worry about logistics in a few minutes. Right now you just want to bask in his warmth, in this dream turned reality, in the absolute joy of your feelings being reciprocated. “I really didn’t think you liked me,” you mutter sleepily. “I’m glad I was wrong.”
“I could say the same,” he murmurs into your hair.
You laugh. “Shachi and Peng are going to be so smug about this.”
“They are?”
“They’ve been trying to tell me for years, and they don’t get to tell me I told you so very often.”
“They were telling you too?” He laughs. “We could have done this months ago if we’d just believed them.”
“Yeah,” you whisper, your eyes starting to slip shut. “You’re worth the wait, though.”
You can hear the smile in his voice as his hand rubs soothing circles on your lower back, luring you further into sleep. “Yeah. So are you.”
Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay
#law x reader#trafalgar d law x reader#one piece x reader#law x you#law x y/n#trafalgar law#one piece#one piece law#op#one piece smut
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| Irish Coffee |
summary: twenty four was the wrong age for everything, except maybe picking up girls in bars at the holidays. Rafe Cameron x Reader
word count: 3.8k
warnings: bars, alcohol, passing mention of sexual assault, death of a parent mention.
Rafe Cameron hated karaoke. It was shitty ego-stroking from typically the very intoxicated or the very tone deaf. He didn’t think anyone ever felt good about their performances on that rinkydink stage anyway. It was unpleasant for everyone involved. Truth be told, Rafe thought karaoke was pointless entirely. If he wanted to hear a good version of a song, he would go on Spotify and find one. He thought karaoke was a selfish sport made fun only for the singer, and never for the listener.
In summation, it was fucking stupid.
When he got in Topper’s Jeep, Rafe had been too tipsy to fully comprehend that it was karaoke night at the Swordfish. Now, with another tumbler of b-list bourbon between Rafe’s knuckles, he moped on a stool at the bar.
He felt old when he went out with Kelce, Topper and their other friends. He had started college while some of the other boys he’d grown up with were in their junior year of high school. Rafe didn’t have friends. He wasn’t good at keeping them and didn’t like it when they complained about their problems that weren’t even really problems. The persona he had crafted for dealing with friends, though, had gotten elaborate enough to where Rafe thought they didn’t notice that his heart wasn’t in it.
He didn’t have friends, he had the people he drank with. That was better than drinking alone.
Being twenty-four sucked. Too old for ragers, too young for drinks at the country club. Too many big problems to solve, but everyone thinking he was too young to solve him. Rafe wondered, if he drank enough, could he blackout the whole of his twenties and then he wake up in his thirties locked and loaded?
Some drunk whore was finishing up a song Rafe had only heard in Sofia’s car. She’d played it often. He didn’t know what it was called. It was by one of those superstar white girls with the zillion dollar concert tickets. Rafe didn’t like it. He didn’t like Sofia either anymore. He didn’t like to think about her anymore.
His heartbeat raced. His could feel it beat in his neck when he drank too much. It didn’t used to be that way. The human body couldn’t fail from misuse before thirty, could it? Rafe took a sharp inhale through his nose to push the frantic thoughts away. Everyone leaves eventually, he reminded himself; a mantra. Fuck, he wanted a cigarette.
Topper was on Ruthie leaning up on the wall near a booth. They were out of commission til she got pissy at him for breathing wrong, or something, and they all had to make excuses to leave. Normal Friday night.
Rafe wished he’d stayed home.
A DJ mumbled that the next person was taking the stage, singing Hard Candy Christmas by Dolly Parton. Arguably, this was Rafe’s favorite Christmas song because it had been his mother’s favorite Christmas song.
It was also the week before Thanksgiving and Rafe didn’t think he could stomach Christmas yet.
“Shit…” Rafe muttered into his glass of bourbon.
The girl supposed to sing was being pushed up into the tiny stage by a group of drunk girls. Presumably a bachelorette party by the looks of it. The girl onstage had a frown of surprise on her lips. It was clear to Rafe that she didn’t know this was going to happen. A girl in her party, wearing a veil headband, called out: “Please! This is our song. Please do it for me? You sound so pretty, [Y/N].”
All of her friends were calling and chanting for her to sing. The girl, [Y/N], looked embarrassed. She was very put on the spot.
Eventually, with all the cheering, pleading and encouragement, [Y/N] walked to the center of the stage where the microphone stood.
“Forgive me if this is dogshit, my friends signed me up,” The girl said over the karaoke track’s intro. A few of the girls she was with cheered. “I didn’t come to butcher Dolly in front of y’all.”
This yielded a chuckle from her audience. Rafe rolled his eyes. He was less interested in her humble act, and more interested in where he knew from. Rafe knew a lot of people, and he was starting to cling to the barstool to do what his legs were struggling to do. [Y/N] was a common enough name, but this girl looked so fucking familiar to him. His drunk mind leafed through the catalog of women in his brain. [Y/N], [Y/N], [Y/N], where did he know her from?
Her clothes weren’t anything special. Standard bachelorette party fare. A little too short, but not quite slutty. She was a bridesmaid, maybe the maid of honor. Rafe wrinkled his nose in thought. His contacts stung dry against his eyes. He had stared at a screen too long in the office and now he was sitting under a vent in November. Who the hell left the A/C on in November?
[Y/N]. Rafe hadn’t hooked up with her before. He didn’t think he had, anyway. She didn’t appear to have botox in her face or filler in her top lip with the way she expressed so freely. That meant she couldn’t have been the kid of one of his dad’s business contacts.
He looked at her friends for clues. Immediately, Rafe recognized the bride. Wendy. Rafe had hooked up with Wendy a few times in high school. He was surprised to see she was still on the island; Wendy had been smarter than that. So Rafe probably knew [Y/N] from school, then. What classes had they shared? He tried to place her.
[Y/N] was working through the slow first verse. She didn’t have a perfect, trained voice. Her voice was the kind of voice that sang in the kitchen on Saturday mornings to the radio. A smirk pulled at Rafe’s lip. She wasn’t forcing it, and she wasn’t so drunk that it was pathetic to listen to. “I hate singing in front of people…” she said.
[Y/N] knelt and set down what appeared to be an Irish coffee, and put her left hand over eyes. No ring, Rafe thought. He almost puked at the thought that looking at babes in bars now came with seeing if they were married or engaged, before giving them the once over. Being twenty-four sucked. The girl swayed from side to side on her feet as she moved from the second half of the first verse to the chorus.
…Maybe I'll just get drunk on apple wine.
Me, I'll be just fine and dandy.
Lord, it's like a hard candy Christmas.
I'm barely getting through tomorrow,
But still I won't let sorrow bring me way down…
The girl took some liberties with how she improvised the line endings or creating a harmony line instead of the melody during the way too repetitive chorus. It wasn’t like she was doing something revolutionary, but she also wasn’t just up there doing a cheesy impression of Dolly.
It was a welcome change of pace from the guy’s attempt at some Jimmy Buffet number a few songs ago. Rafe loved music. He loved it. That’s part of why karaoke was such an affront. Rafe played the piano; he was okay. His mom had put him in lessons right after kindergarten and it was the only thing he had stuck with until the end of high school. That was how he honored her memory.
Wait, kindergarten.
[Y/N] sat next to Rafe in kindergarten and early elementary. Holy fucking shit.
Rafe was a walking ad for Ritalin until he was about ten. Arguably, after that too. No one ever helped him out. He was also spoiled, he knew that. The kid talked out of turn, couldn’t follow the classroom expectations, never sat still, and ended up with his green light getting downgraded to a yellow light by the end of everyday. The tantrums he would throw over it where earthshaking. It was exhausting. [Y/N] sat next to him because she was not disruptive. Miss Lisa, their kindergarten teacher had loved [Y/N]. She loved her not only because she was good kid, but because she talked back to Rafe. [Y/N] used her position as calm-girl-forced-to-sit-next-to-shitty-boy to her advantage. She tattled on him daily. Debatably, that made his behavior worse, but the pair had fun sometimes. Rafe hadn’t thought about her in years.
[Y/N] wrapped up the song, trilling fine and dandy… I’ll be fine… over and over with the tinny backing track. He wished she could sing this song along with a guitar the way she deserved. Unexpectedly, Rafe found his hands applauding and his glass on the counter.
Quick as a flash, Rafe stood on unsteady feet and rushed towards the stage. [Y/N] rounded up her Irish coffee and pivoted towards her friends that clapped delightedly at her. Her hands were peeled away from her face now. Rafe almost smiled. Almost.
“Hey ladies, can I steal [Y/N] here for a second?” Rafe hollered over the music as he slumped towards their party.
Wendy’s eyes lit up in immediate recognition. “Rafe Cameron…”
“Hi Wendy,” Rafe said effortlessly. “Congratulations, by the way. You look great.” Rafe’s hookups were getting married now, and he was going to wake up tomorrow single and hungover.
“Thank you, hon. You look pretty good yourself… Please take her. Buy her another drink before we go. We need her loosened up a little.” Wendy giggled.
“Hey!” [Y/N] protested. She was eying Rafe uncertainly. She was trying to place him the same way that he had her.
“Please, ladies, next round on my tab. Congrats, seriously, Wendy,” Rafe said with a sleazy, false grin as a few of the women cheered. “I’ll bring [Y/N] back in one piece.” Gently, Rafe placed a hand on her elbow and angled her away towards the bar. The two walked in relative quiet.
All [Y/N]’s friends giggled. Rafe’s force dimples dropped when they were out of the ladies’ eyeline.
“Excuse me,” [Y/N] started. “Not tryin’ to be rude. Have we… Do I know you? I didn’t catch your name and…” She asked, staring intensely at Rafe. “Is this a setup, because Wendy’s always trying to—“
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Rafe cut in, stopping. He was drunk and forgot his manners. Great impression. Rafe cleared his throat and tried not to slur. “Rafe Cameron. You probably don’t remember me… I… You’re [Y/N] [L/N], yeah? You sat beside me in, like, fucking kindergarten and stuff.”
[Y/N] eyes widened in recognition. “Oh my god!” She gasped. “Rafe! How are you? Oh my god, you’re so tall!” [Y/N] laughed happily. Her faced buzzed warmly from the alcohol.
Rafe nodded at her amused comment. “Yeah, I’ve been busy since I was, y’know, nine.” He snorted.
“You transferred, right?”
“Yeah, Saint Mary’s.” Rafe replied. His mother’s trust had paid for catholic school after she died. He transferred out around the time he was ten.
“I can’t believe we never crossed paths again. You know Wendy from Saint Mary’s then?”
“Yep, that’s right,” Rafe paused. “Come on, lemme get you another drink. You’re the reason I didn’t fail first grade.”
[Y/N] smirked. “That’s probably true. You were an awful student.”
“Jesus Christ,” Rafe smirked. “Way to treat a guy buying you a drink,” he started his walk towards the bar, prompting [Y/N] to follow him. “You got Bailey’s or Jameson in that thing?”
The girl looked down into her nearly empty mug. “Jameson.”
“Smart girl.“ Rafe said easily. [Y/N] blushed. Even drunk, Rafe didn’t miss that expression on her face at those words. Almost too easy.
“Well, if you’re paying then tell the man to make it a double Irish too.”
“Very smart girl. I like the way you think.”
[Y/N] easily followed Rafe to the bar. The man’s broad shoulders slumped drunkenly as he cut through the crowd. When one was as large, imposing and beautiful as Rafe Cameron, crowds parted like the Red Sea. “So, uh, how are you? Did you do the whole college thing, or…?” [Y/N] asked broadly. She next to nothing about him. He wasn’t even the kind of childhood friend to get added on Instagram.
College. That was the default question at their age. Rafe hated this question, but he couldn’t let [Y/N] feel rejected for that question. “I mean, yeah. For a while. I was at Wofford for a year, but I never finished. I like what I do now, though.”
[Y/N] nodded. “And what exactly do you do?”
“Real estate development. I took over for my dad l when he passed.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, we get by,” Rafe turned to the bartender, waving a hand for his attention. “Another Maker’s Mark, neat, and a coffee with double Jameson. Put the anything else the bachelorette party orders on my tab.” Rafe said. He certainly didn’t need another drink, but he really liked having something to do with his hands. Rafe would probably have less substance abuse-related issues if he knew how to conduct his body in public in some way that wasn’t a poor impression of his father.
“Very good, Mr. Cameron.”
[Y/N] narrowed her eyes at Rafe. “Big spender… You that much of a regular that they know your name at the bar?” In her world, guys [Y/N]’s age didn’t get called ‘Mr.’ anything anywhere by anyone. The guys she knew still drank shitty PBRs in punk clubs and had girlfriends they had nothing in common with. Rafe’s polish and pedigree didn’t rub off even in such a state of intoxication.
Rafe didn’t have a good excuse. The implication of [Y/N]’s statement was accurate. “Sure,” he replied. He moved through the rest of his sentence like a gunshot to prevent an awkward conversation. “Hey, why’d you pick Hard Candy Christmas?”
“I didn’t pick it. Wendy did.”
Rafe nodded slowly. “Right. Why did she pick it for you, then?”
“Because it’s my favorite Christmas song.”
“It’s my favorite. It’s probably half of the Smoky Mountains’ favorite too. But why?”
“I didn’t realize this was hardball—“
“Please... I asked you a question about Dolly Parton. You sounded good.” Rafe responded. His drink was passed over the counter. He held it close to his chest and leaned his right elbow down to press it into the bar.
“Um, thanks. It’s… I had shitty couple years. I sang that song everyday for months at a time, I think. Wendy and I would go for these drives with the top down and just… Belt that shit out. Makes the bad days better.”
Rafe half-smiled. “So, year-round?” He said accusingly.
“The song? Like, not at Christmas?”
“Mhm.”
“Well, yeah. She says it’s like a Hard Candy Christmas, not that it is one. That’s grounds for year-round. It’s so much more than a Christmas song.” [Y/N] bit back with a smirk. The bartender returned and placed another white coffee cup and saucer in front of [Y/N] with a nod. The girl slurped a sip down without cream or sugar. She barely made a pinched expression at what was obviously a strong drink. Rafe was moderately impressed. He liked that [Y/N] was drinking brown liquor in black coffee this late on a Friday while all of her friends held White Claws and Daiquiris,
“My head hurts. This is the opposite of the Die Hard’s a Christmas movie thing.” Rafe jabbed.
“Anything can be a Christmas movie.”
“Then, so can a song.”
[Y/N] paused. “Damn.” she sighed. She wasn’t sober enough to get her arguments straight.
Rafe didn’t want to conversation to end. [Y/N] was the most intelligent person he’d spoken to all day. It wasn’t saying much, but was noticeable. He asked another question. “What’s your favorite Christmas movie, if you think that’s true?”
“American Psycho.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? That’s not a—“
“Rewatch it. Not having this argument,” [Y/N] chided. The girl glanced over her shoulder at her friends. They were all staring at her and pretending they weren’t. “Listen Rafe, I appreciate the drink. It was really great to see you tonight. I gotta head back to Wendy now. Bachelorette party only happens once. If you’re lucky… But, hey, thank you again—“
“Ask me.”
“Ask you what?” [Y/N] asked. She had no idea where Rafe was taking this. Rafe pushed up the left sleeve of his brown sweater.
“What my favorite Christmas movie is.”
[Y/N] looked at him funny. “What’s your favorite Christmas movie?”
“Eyes Wide Shut.” Rafe replied coyly.
“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” [Y/N] smiled fully, finally. Rafe damn near smiled back. She took a small step away, gesturing to where her friends stood.
“Can I give you my card? Maybe we catch up sometime.” Rafe asked plainly.
“Yeah, maybe!”
Rafe pulled his business card out of his wallet and extended it to [Y/N]. She looked down at it, cheekily saying: “Let’s see Paul Allen’s business card…” her eyes widened at the writing on the card. “CEO? Of a development company? THE development company on the island.”
“I told you I took over my dad’s business.”
“Rafe, I… I’m barely a grant writer at a 501-c3. How are you a CEO… You’re… twenty-three?”
“Twenty-four two weeks ago.”
“Happy birthday,” [Y/N] said flatly. “What’s happening? Why are you talking to me?”
“Because you helped me pass first grade. I thought I already said that.” Rafe’s eyes never left hers. They were so blue. Too blue. Too blue to be real. Rich people were too pretty.
[Y/N] took a very long sip of her coffee. “That’s wild. I’m sorry, but that’s wild. You made me feel vastly inferior and I’m the friend with my shit the most together.” [Y/N] told Rafe, with a smile on her face.
“I know you gotta get back. I’m not gonna the asshole that kept the girls waiting, but call me. Listen, you’re pretty, so is your voice. We should catch up.” Rafe said. Was he asking her out? That was weird. That was weird, right?
Hesitantly, [Y/N] looked back at her friends again. They were too invested in her conversation with Rafe. Hopefully, they would all drink so much that they forgot it happened.
“Do you like karaoke, Rafe?” [Y/N] changed the subject.
“I hate it.” He replied instantly.
“Why are you here?”
Rafe gestured with his glass to where Topper and Ruthie were making out. “They gave me a ride. And you don’t seem too keen about it either.” He said with a shrug.
[Y/N] couldn’t figure out what Rafe’s game was. He had turned from an unsettling child to a freakish adult. He was blunt and brisk, and either frustratingly honest or an alarmingly good liar. Maybe both. She stared up at him.
“What?”
“What?” Rafe raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, I’m gonna go. It was good to see you. Thanks for the drinks,” [Y/N] took a step back. She started to walk away slightly, still facing Rafe. A looked of what could be interrupted as self-loathing crossed Rafe’s face. He didn’t bullshit enough with her during the conversation to be perceived as likable, and she was leaving. Of course. Nobody liked Rafe when they actually knew Rafe. [Y/N] stopped, thinking. “Rafe?”
“Yeah?” His eyes slid back to her.
“Can you do something for me?”
“Maybe?”
He was going to say no, but it would serve as a litmus test for what kind of man Rafe was. It would help [Y/N] sleep easier to know what kind of bullet she dodged by losing Rafe’s business card after tonight. “Okay, we have a scavenger hunt thing for the party. It’s stupid. One of those… Do X number of shots, get someone to give you a BLANK, take a picture of three of you doing… whatever. Y’know?”
“Sure, yeah. What are you asking?”
“One of the items on the list is Maid of Honor and a stranger accomplish a task she’ll regret tomorrow. Like I said, it’s a trashy fuckin’ list.”
“Are you asking me to hookup with you, or…”
“Worse. Do you know the song Don’t Go Breaking My Heart by—“
“Absolutely not—“
“Let me finish. I said do you know the song Don’t Go—“
“I don’t do karaoke.” Rafe said forcefully.
“Do you want to go out on a date with me, or not?”
Rafe was stunned silent. His mind worked overtime. He suddenly felt extremely sober, in spite of his drunkenness. He sucked his teeth.
“I don’t do Elton John. Sorry.” He muttered finally.
[Y/N] nodded, knowingly. It was a setup anyway. She couldn’t be disappointed. She knew he’d refuse and she could leave knowing she had made the right choice ditching him. “That’s a’right. Maybe some other—“
“But, if you really want me to do this, let’s at least stick to the Christmas thing you’ve got going here.”
“You don’t look very… holly jolly.”
“Ho, ho, ho,” he deadpanned. Rafe was the strangest combination. “Stop givin’ me grief here. Your favorite Christmas movie is American Psycho. Let’s do Baby, It’s Cold Outside—“
“Whoa, waaaay too rapey.” [Y/N] protested.
“American. Psycho. How is that song—“
“Wait, do you know Fa—“
“Fairytale of New York?” Rafe finished.
“You know it?”
“My family’s Irish Catholic.”
They both stood still and looked at each other. Well, Rafe stood as still as he could, but swayed a little on his feet. He wasn’t thinking clearly. Why was he agreeing to this?
For as manipulative as Rafe Cameron could be, he was effortless to play for validation and a pretty pair of eyes looking back at him.
Everyone leaves eventually, Rafe reminded himself. His mouth and his brain were not in agreement. Rafe had lost control of his body as he blindly followed [Y/N] to sign up for the next karaoke slot.
They passed Topper and Rafe held onto his glass like an anchor. He should have switched to beer. Why did he have another bourbon? Topper pulled his face away from Ruthie long enough to look at Rafe as if to say what the fuck are you doing? without any words. Rafe grimaced at Topper, barring his teeth slightly in response.
Rafe leaned in to [Y/N]’s ear and clumsily pushed her hair back. “I’m not a singer… This isn’t gonna be good.” He whispered. Chills crept up [Y/N]’s spine at the sensation of his breath. He knew his way around rhythm and music theory. Rafe was an asshole about music, actually. Jazz, classical, whatever. It was his secret no one else got to have. It’s not his fault that most of the motherfuckers he hung out with only listened to guys with the word ‘yung’ in front of their names. Still, all of that musicality couldn’t make him a singer.
“It’s karaoke.” [Y/N] said like it was obvious. She dragged Rafe towards the stage. “You’re so serious… Stop frowning; you’re gonna get lines on your face. We’re both gonna suck. I wouldn’t make you do this if it wasn’t for Wendy anyway. Promise.”
“This is so dumb; this better be some fucking date…”
[Y/N] pried, with difficulty, the rocks glass out of Rafe’s fingers and set it with her mug on a tabletop by the stage. As she pulled him up to a microphone, she said: “You know the words. Sing the damn song.”
And as the track started to play, and [Y/N] stupid friends all cheered, Rafe slurred the words he knew from every drunken family Christmas party he’d ever had. And he smiled. Just a little.
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe obx#rafe cameron#outer banks#christmas fic#holiday fic#obx#pope heyward#john b routledge#jj maybank
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beneath the same stars - averyjameson
summary: avery’s mind is flooded with doubts about the hawthorne house, and thoughts that she hasn’t told anyone. somehow, she finds herself confiding in jameson hawthorne. a/n: aww baby averyjameson :( this takes place before they are officially together / between tig/thl (jameson is sooo down bad omg) wc: 1.8k
the rooftop wasn’t her favorite spot, but it was his, and tonight, avery didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts.
after avery had climbed up very cautiously, she noticed jameson sitting dangerously close to the edge, sitting with his legs dangling off, without a care in the world.
the wind rippled through his half-buttoned white shirt, and he turned around right as avery neared, sending her one of those grins that made her brain feel light, and kept his eyes on her right until she sat next to him.
she forced herself to ignore it, “you could’ve told me you were coming up here,” she said, settling down a few feet away— close, but not too close. and much further away from the edge.
he analyzed the way she looked from where she sat, before looking back at the sky infront of him. “figured you’d find me anyway.”
jameson reached over to the other side of him, then held out a recently opened bar of dark chocolate to avery.
she stared at the chocolate for a second before taking it.
“i hate that you’re actually right sometimes.” she didn’t eat the chocolate right away, and just stared at the floor.
jameson looked intrigued. “careful, mystery girl, that almost sounded like a compliment.” he grinned, but his tone was softer than usual. he could sense something was up with avery.
he gave her a long look, then eyed the distance between them, asking a silent question.
avery gave a slight nod, and jameson moved to sit beside her. shoulders nearly touching, so close jameson could practically hear her mind whirring.
they sat like that for a while, the silence stretching but not breaking. avery could hear the soft rustle of the wind through the trees, and the sound of cars far away.
it made her think of how different this was to her life just a few months ago. nearly nothing was the same.
“sometimes,” she said suddenly, trailing off with her voice barely audible. “sometimes i think about leaving,” she exhaled a deep breath she didn’t realize she was holding.
jameson turned his head slightly, but not all the way. “leaving hawthorne house?”
“yeah.” she picked at the wrapper of the chocolate, tearing it into smaller and smaller and smaller pieces. “the house. the money. all of it.”
“would you, though?” his tone was careful, which is a word that was almost never used to describe anything about jameson. but with her, he was careful.
avery shrugged. “i don’t know. i mean, it’s too late, right? there’s people who want the worst for me. without oren and everything, i’d be in danger.” she looked at her lap, mumbling quietly and trying to sound detached.
she couldn’t tear the small pieces of wrapper any more, so fiddled with her fingers instead.
“isn’t that crazy?” she chuckled as she set her hands down back in her lap, but it sounded hollow. “people i don’t even know, people who know nothing about me, who want to harm me. or— or people that know too much about me, or people that knew your grandfather, or—“ she cut her nervous rambling off with a sigh, tucking her hair behind her ears.
she couldn’t believe what her life was now. this was the first time she was really confiding to anyone other than libby or max about these thoughts she’s been having, about the huge what ifs.
jameson observed her quietly. he wanted to reach out, but he didn’t know if it was alright to do that yet.
for some reason that avery couldn’t quite pinpoint, she felt like she could actually talk to him. “i just— sometimes i wonder if i should’ve left sooner. or just never have come. then i wouldn’t have to deal with all of this.”
she crossed her arms over her chest as the wind got stronger, and pulled her shirts sleeves over her hands. “it just kind of feels like i don’t belong here, no matter what i do.”
jameson was oddly silent for a moment, and slowly tore his gaze away from avery and back to the sky that was beginning to set.
avery quickly began to worry— did she over-share? she definitely overshared, she didn’t even know jameson all that well. why was he so silent? why on earth did she—
“you’re wrong about that,” jameson finally said.
avery’s thoughts were put to a halt. “about what?”
“saying you don’t belong.” he answered, “you belong more than any of us, look at you, heiress. you’re incredibly intelligent in all aspects. in your first few days, you solved the keys faster than anyone else. the house could do with a few more complicated geniuses. ” he sent her a small grin, “maybe you belong more than you’d like to admit.
avery shook her head and looked away, the wind whipping through her hair. “i don’t know, jameson. sure, i solved them faster, but that doesn’t mean anything, not really.” she said, “and i’m not complicated.”
jameson raised a brow.
she narrowed her eyes, “what’s that supposed to mean?
“whatever you want it to mean, heiress.” he said through a chuckle. “i’m just saying, i didn’t call you mystery girl for no reason.”
“you barely even call me that anymore.” avery said before she could even think.
jameson grinned, “why, you miss it?”
“absolutely not.” avery shook heir head, fighting a small smile. jameson didn’t say anything else as he watched her. he could sense there was something else waiting to be asked.
avery’s smile faded, and she pressed her lips together as she formulated her words. “jameson?”
“yes, heiress?”
“you always seem so sure of yourself. don’t you ever think you’re doing the wrong thing— like, making the wrong choices?”
a smile finally reappeared on jamesons face, and avery realized that she had missed seeing it. the thing is though, the smile wasn’t like his usual one, it was almost like one of those bitter ones.
his head was tilted up with his adam’s apple on full view, “all the damn time,” he said, a slight shake of his head as he looked up at the sky.
avery got the feeling that there was a lot more to jameson hawthorne than what she had thought originally. “and, what do you do about it?” she stayed looking at him, even when he wasn’t looking at her.
he chuckled lowly, gaze still up at the sky.“nothing.”
that answer didn’t surprise avery in the slightest. she hummed, “nothing at all?”
“nothing at all, heiress.”
“nothing at all,” she nodded as she repeated quietly, as if she was tasting the words on her lips.
he nudged her shoulder gently, that one cheshire grin finally back on his face. “you got it.”
avery’s face broke into a small smile despite herself, and jamesons grin only widened.
“why do you come up here so much?”
“you have a lot of questions today.”
she looked back at her lap, “sorry, i didn’t mean to—“
“don’t apologize,” he cut in. “i’d answer anything you ask.” he sent her one of those joking grins, but it didn’t feel like a joke. “to answer your question, mystery girl, its because i can see everything from up here.”
that’s all he said, but there was more to it. he would come here to think— he always had since he was a kid. jameson was told he wasn’t as creative as his brothers, wasn’t as determined, wasn’t as talented.
he would literally come up here to see the bigger picture— look for more possibilities, more answers, and then he could maybe find who he really was.
avery looked ahead at the landscape infront of her, her fingers playing with the torn chocolate wrapper. she hadn’t even taken a single bite.
“sometimes,” jameson continued softly, breaking the quiet, “i think this is the only place that makes sense.”
she turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “a rooftop?”
“not just any rooftop, heiress,” he said, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. “this one. and as a bonus, thisview.” he tilted his head toward her, his meaning unmistakable.
her heart stuttered, and she hated how he always managed to do that. “you’re so strange,” she muttered, but the corners of her mouth betrayed her with a smile.
he shrugged, “i try.” he said as he leant back on his hands behind him.
avery let the silence stretch, also leaning back slightly to take in the view.
the sky was bruised with shades of deep blue and purple now, stars faintly visible against the last streaks of orange.
she felt the weight of jameson’s presence beside her, solid and steady, even as her thoughts spun.
but then movement caught her eye. down below, the gravel driveway lit up with headlights as a sleek black car rolled to a stop.
her chest tightened when she saw who stepped out. oren, his stance sharp and alert as always. then alisa, perfectly composed, her phone already in her hand. and finally—grayson.
he adjusted his jacket as he stepped out, his expression unreadable, the way it always was.
he said something to alisa that avery couldn’t hear, and she watched as they moved toward the house together.
she didn’t know why, but the sight made her stomach twist. she hoped jameson didn’t see the way her shoulders tensed.
“looks like the cavalry’s back,” jameson said casually, his voice pulling her back to the present.
he’d noticed them too, of course.
avery and jameson shared a look. yes, he sounded casual, and he did try to put on an expression of nonchalance, but avery saw through it.
just like how he saw through her constant attempts of looking unfazed.
avery looked away, then exhaled. “i should probably go.”
jameson didn’t move. he stayed sitting, leaning back on his hands, his gaze flicking from the driveway to her. “are you in trouble, heiress?”
“i never even know when i am,” she said, smiling already. “that shared look on alisa and oren’s is never a good sign, though.” she said as she looked down at him.
“are my reckless antics rubbing off on you?” he narrowed his eyes jokingly, tilting his head.
“no. in your dreams.” she let out a chuckle, and jameson loved the sound. when she spoke again, her voice was quiter.
she tried to make it sound like a joke though. “i just can’t seem to make the right choices recently. i’m always doing the wrong thing.” she admitted, “i mean, according to alisa.”
he gave her a slight shake of his head, “it’s impossible to fully get it right with alisa. don’t lose your mind over it.” he told her, “nobody would know what to do if they were in your situation, and i highly doubt anybody could possibly handle this as well as you.”
“i… .” she trailed off, unsure on how to respond, “yeah, alisa can be hard to please, i guess. ”
she chose not to comment on anything else. she tried to keep her expression blank, like his words didn’t make her heart accelerate 10x faster.
jameson could tell she still wouldn’t believe the words he had said, how she was handling things, but he didn’t press the matter any longer.
“goodnight, then, heiress.” jameson gave her that lazy half-grin of his.
she hesitated for half a second, then she said “night, jameson.”
then she turned and climbed back down the way she’d come.
when she was gone, jameson shifted to sit where she’d been, still close to the edge but not quite at it. the bar of dark chocolate lay on the ground forgotten, and he stared out at the horizon, now dotted with stars.
the rooftop felt bigger without her, quieter in a way he didn’t really like. but jameson stayed there, legs dangling over the edge, like he always did.
jameson stared out into the sky and wondered— when had avery become not just part of the view; but part of the reason he kept looking?
tag list: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable
@anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07
@midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear
@clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams
@hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee @hijabi-desi-bookworm
@danni-1-graysons-version
#avery x jameson#averyjameson#the inheritance games#the grandest game#avery grambs#avery kylie grambs#jameson hawthorne#grayson hawthorne#xander hawthorne#nash hawthorne#tig#tgg#the hawthorne brothers#the final gambit#❦ jude writes
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dai love interests' letters to the inquisitor in veilguard, if anyone was curious to see them. transcriptions in alt text & under cut
Amatus,
I'm writing. Again. Yes, the sending crystals still work and yes, you'll be in Minrathous in a few short weeks. But a letter, written in blind longing, is real. It can be touched, and it can be held, when ink and paper must substitute for your skin on mine and my breath in your ear.
I used to scoff at frequent declarations of affection. Trite, I thought. Save them for rare and precious moments. But time and love are no longer things I care to squander, especially not as we race again toward calamity. And so, in each of these fleeting, ephemeral seconds, I will tell you that I love you. Whether penned or spoken, or conveyed by glance or action, I love you. In this moment, and in all the moments to come, for as long as they do, I love you.
I will find you soon.
Yours, Dorian
---
My love,
You have summoned me to Minrathous, and I will answer your call, as soon as responsibilities here in the South allow. I have missed being by your side.
Will these troubles be the last we face? The world seems always to conspire, through duty or disaster, to pull you away from me. I do not resent it. You are dedicated to purposes far larger and more significant than myself. I hope you do not think me a fool for hoping that one day, your only concern will be the color you wish our walls to be painted, or the flowers we will plant beside our gate. I'm partial to carnations.
Yours always, Thom
---
My love,
We are no strangers to duty, or the separation it demands of us. You head for Tevinter, and though I want to go with you, there is work we both must do. I will not falter in the tasks that wait before me and I pray my actions, in whatever measure they can, will keep you safe.
The others see only confidence in my resolve, but you have always known more than mere appearance. I confess to you, and you alone, that I am afraid. I'm afraid of what may happen, that Thedas will face such turmoil as it did before. I know not what awaits us. Yet even in the face of uncertainty, there are two things I cannot doubt and never will. The first is that our paths are never separated long. That I will find you at my side when I need you, as you will find me at yours. I will play my part in this and follow as soon as I can.
The second thing I never doubt is you. Whatever lies before you, trust yourself. Trust your heart as I trust it. It will not lead you astray.
Yours, Cassandra
---
Hey, Kadan,
Not the first time we've marched toward different battles. I know you're keeping the crap from catching fire up in Tevinter. Wish I could be there, but I'll make sure there's a world for you to come back to when you're done dealing with crazy vints and stupid Antaam and whatever other crap Solas kicked up. (Shit, the Antaam. Remember when I was worried what would happen if I went tal-vashoth? That right there!)
I know you're gonna be careful, and you've got Morrigan there. Just take care of yourself. If anything happens to you, I'm going to have to take Krem and the Chargers and stomp across all of Tevinter to come get you. It'll be a whole thing, and you know it'll upset Dorian.
Being apart from you made me realize something else. I spent so long being whatever the Ben-Hassrath wanted me to be. An investigator. An agent. A mercenary sending reports. These past years, since the Inquisition ended, I've been able to be just what I want to be.
And what I really want to be is yours. I like the person I am when I'm with you.
So come back safe.
Love, The signature appears to be a stylized rendering of the Iron Bull's head.
---
(An artistically doodled journal page presumably from the Inquisitor's partner, Sera.)
Keep this as close as I need you. (A drawing of a pile of flowers, with lines like it's moving, an arrow pointing to it labeled "us.")
North again, Mini-wrathus still stuck up its own pucker.
Magiturds are scared of us. They don't even know.
We work with Maevaris, right? She's wow.
So many Friends! Jennies in all the walls!
We kill him this time. He took from us twice! (A drawing of a cracked egg scribbled out, with "can't even joke" in letters that tore the page.)
Still thinking of you sideways.
Never mind the Dalish, here's the Veil Jumpers! Tempest-kin! (A drawing of a tall, shorthaired elf (Sera?) and Irelin brandishing two fingers, backflipping as a tree explodes in runes.)
The memory thing makes my head spin. If that Rook doesn't take it, throw it out.
Tell Morrigan ppbbth! for me.
I'll also tell her ppbbth! She knows why.
Tell them to Stripe. Him. Up. I wanted more books. (More heavy scribbles that tear.)
You meet; I'll keep you safe. Then I'm your time off, and you're my time on.
(The last section has different colored inks, like Sera has returned to it several times.)
New naked names: -Sweet-tits (scribbled out) -Bestest (scribbled out) -Loverly (scribbled out) -Lovey (scribbled out) -My-for-always-and-ever - name's not too long, time's too short. -But "Sweet-tits," though (scribbled out)
---
The top of the letter has been punctured by small, sharp teeth, leaving most of a beloved name and a few sentences too chewed to read.
I fear the puppy started on this letter shortly after I did. I'd start over, but I must send this tonight if it's to reach you. Matters are settled here and I make for Tevinter as soon as possible.
I almost believed chaos might spare us this time. I can't say I wished to see Minrathous before now, but I am eager to see you. I long to see your face and know that you're all right. You are— I've— There's— I wish that I was better at putting into writing all that's in my mind. For now, simply know that I love you. It is the most cherished constant of my life.
The days ahead will not be easy. I know there's much you carry, more than many realize. But whatever you must face, you will not meet it alone. You have my sword, my counsel, my—I could write this list forever when all I mean to say is this—
Whatever you need of me, I am yours.
Cullen
---
My Dearest Lady, / My Dearest Lord,
I have spoken to friends in Minrathous. They offer us their hospitality, not to mention shelter from the worst intrigues of the Archon's Palace. While you're well acquainted with the roving eyes of grand courts, please take care. Tevinter's regard can be the oldest and cruelest of them all.
The family writes the weather back home is beautiful. I do miss our quiet times together.
There is a question I've wanted to ask you for so long. I would like to pretend I have been busy, or it was not the proper time. But, if I am being honest, I only waited because I have been afraid of choosing a poor moment. Please, let me make a promise to you here.
When we return to Antiva, I will ask you, on the steps of the estate, if you will do me a great honor. And I dream you will say yes.
Always yours, Josephine
Postscript: I cannot believe it nearly slipped my mind. Yvette and Lord Otranto send their best wishes, and hope to see us back home in time to welcome their third child.
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This was yet again, not what I was intending to write. I was going to try to do the fic for the spa day hint but I got too caught up in my head on logistics. Remember kids, don't let logic or canon stop you from writing the fiction you want to.
This is a pallet cleanser for me after posting 'It's a Quarter after One'.
Here is the rest of the Military Program Spouse list.
Warnings;
Nothing really. Just tension.
Movie nights, were supposed to be peaceful. A way to unwind from the day and maybe, possibly, in the realm of, spend some time with a person who's existence didn't drive you crazy. So how this turned into you using Simon like a living barbie doll you weren't sure, but you couldn't complain.
That was a lie, you knew exactly how it turned into you belting Simon's pillows around his waist. You had a fucking point to prove.
Simon had been willing to watch a new documentary from the Smithsonian with you, a piece about historical fashion and the myths that spiral out of it. You hadn't thought that Simon would want to watch it, but he had shrugged when you'd ask and well, gifted horses and mouths and all that.
You had made veggie snacks for the boys, and popcorn for you and Simon, queued up the film and the night was off. For the most part it was alright, some stuff you already knew, others you didn't. Simon was pretty silent the entire time, until they got to the corsetry and the discussion of tight lacing.
Simon wouldn't believe the idea that it was mostly an illusion trick. Said that men were obviously smarter than that. You called bullshit. He called your bullshit bullshit. So belting his pillows to his ass.
And no, you weren't going to think about how thick his waist was, or how solid he felt as you tightened the cord around said waist. And you especially weren't going to look up at him because you were positive he was doing that thing where he was staring down at you with his dark eyes that made you feel like you were being sucked in via your soul and did not make your heart skip. Not thinking about it at all.
Giving the improvised belt a tug, and not thinking about his...everything, you nodded, pleased with how the pillows bulked around his waist. Now just for the final piece. You grabbed a throw blanket from the couch, wrapping it around the front of your husband.
(How dare that man be a fucking brick wall of muscles. Seriously what the fuck.)
Once you were ready you grabbed your phone, snapping a photo and disregarding the unimpressed look on Simon's face, already talking over his silence to prove your point.
"Look your shoulders are already broad enough," (Not thinking about it) "So we just had to balance out the width of your hips. Now instead of looking like a Dorito, it's like an hourglass, and your brain gets tricked into thinking your waist tinier."
You're zooming in to show him what you meant when there's a knock on your door, making the both of you freeze to stare at each other. You weren't expecting anyone, and given how tight his shoulders drew in, neither was Simon.
It was tense as you waited to see what would happen. And it only got tenser as there was another knock, whoever was at the door insistent.
"Oi LT, ye in for the pub? Never answered me earlier."
Oh. It was Johnny. At the door. To see if Simon wanted to go out. Because Simon hadn't clarified with him earlier? You almost felt like your strings got cut as you relaxed, looking at the door as you answered for Simon before the Scot could start knocking again, or break down your door.
"Just a second Johnny."
You looked back at Simon and felt your breath catch. He was so...intense sometimes. For a moment all there was, was you and him, the TV lighting half his face and showcasing the curve of his brow that lead to the bridge of his nose, the rest of his face hidden by his surgical mask.
"We should get the door."
"He can wait."
Simon's voice couldn't possibly be that deep most of the time. You'd have noticed it before right?
You had to swallow, your mouth turning dry as you tried to think of something to say.
Thankfully a certain impatient Scot saved the day by knocking yet again, though sounding uncertain this time.
"Are ye alright in there? Am I interrupting-"
"We're fine MacTavish."
You had to make a break for the door then, or else you were all going to be stuck in some loop of talking through a door or not talking while the oxygen apparently left the room. You made an effort to try to ignore whatever Simon was doing behind you as you made the few steps to the door to open it, unaware of the flush that was painting your cheeks.
"Sorry about that, come in."
Oh. Kyle was with him too. You waved over Johnny's shoulder giving the young man a happy greeting, but both of them were too busy staring over your shoulder into your living room. You hadn't really give Simon time to unpillow his ass...oops.
"I was trying to show Simon how proportions with creating visual illusions..."
"Ye look thinner Lt."
You shot Simon an 'I told you so' look, which you were pretty sure he did not appreciate. Instead of trying to get himself out of his pillows he just crossed his arms over his chest, leveling his sergeants with a look.
"Not going out tonight."
"I don't think you have a matching handbag there Ghost."
You couldn't help but grin at Kyle's joke, though you tried to bite your lower lip to hide it. You had done this to the poor man after all. Neither Kyle nor Johnny gave the same consideration as they snickered. Simon didn't seemed impressed with any of you though as he came over, thankfully not tripping over his improvised skirt. With a curt good night he just shut the door in the boys face, though it didn't shut out their laughter as they walked away.
You two didn't say anything as you listened to the laughs fade into the evening. Once it was clear that your guests had left you looked up at Simon, noticing how the tips of his ears looked just a little redder.
"You could have gone out with them if you wanted. I wouldn't have minded."
Simon didn't seem to hear you at first, instead turning to head back to the couch, the blanket making a soft swish noise against the floor. When you didn't follow him he simply turned to sit on the couch, making it clear that there was space next to him on the couch.
"You proved your point. Now get over here so we can finish this."
Edit;
Simon does not care about if tight lacing was a common practice or not. He simply argued to a) argue with you and b) because a part of him was a 'little' hopeful that you'd pull a corset out of somewhere to model or something. Play stupid games get stupid prizes.
Edit edit;
Soap bribes reader to send him the photo of pretty princess Ghost and he hoards it for just in case black mail.
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