#since the love that's just the idea of something is a mentor figure

[probablygayattorneys]

And in the death of her reputation,

She felt truly alive.

(why she disappeared - taylor swift)

Dedicated to @memories-break-our-fall, who without the encouragement of, this gifset would not exist

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Ghosted

Male Jock Yandere Ghost x Gender Neutral Nerd Ghost Reader

CW: Reader death, ghosts, spirit world, manipulative yandere, stalking, general yandere behavior, consensual sex

Word Count: 801

(Trying to get back into the habit of writing, this is the result, hope you like it! I consider a demented ghost as still being a monster and therefore still teratophilia.)

You had died in college. One moment, you were being your nerdy self, rummaging through your binder, and the next, you were on the ground. You didn't really remember much, all very fuzzy. Was it a stroke? A brain aneurysm? You had no idea.

Once you were brain dead, though, you stepped from your body and appeared on the ghostly plane. A fog filled realm that somewhat mirrored the world of the living. Though spirits could make alterations, there were spaces untouched by the activities of the still living. 

There were a lot of ghosts. Many of them wandered aimlessly or were stuck in a loop of denial, acting out behaviors as if they were still alive. Others lashed aggressively, unable to regain their grip on their sanity. 

You mostly kept to yourself. Like Jonesy taught you. He was a former jock about your age when he died in the late 80s. He still wore his letterman jacket. You weren't limited to the clothes you died in, but you figured it was a symbol of how he was still attached to his old life.

Jonesy had taught you a lot of things. He had pretty much been your mentor since you had died. He was there waiting when you passed. He said he had sensed someone might die as he was wandering the halls of the college, where he had also died years ago. 

Jonesy said he was stuck in a loop. Being alone had made him lose his mental stability. But when he sensed you were about to die, it snapped him out of it. He said you saved him, so he wanted to get to know you and help you navigate the land of the dead. 

Plus, being together would help prevent the two of you from getting mentally frail. 

It was a bit of a paradox. Jonesy taught you to avoid most spirits, but communication and relationships were essential to staying sane. 

"You just have to know the right types to befriend. Many of the people here have a darkness in them and can drag you down if you're not careful."

He also told you the other secret to remaining stable. 

"You have to keep busy, do stuff. Don't get too bored."

There was a surprising amount you could do as a ghost. You could go to stores and yoink whatever you wanted, eat whatever you wanted, play video games, there was even a ghost version of the internet! 

Getting infinite free popcorn at the movies was your favorite thing. Jonesy always did that lame pretend yawn thing that ended with his arm wrapped around you. It was nice, though. Made you feel safe. You had been touch starved in life.

The transition to him being your boyfriend was so seemless and natural that you barely noticed that it had happened. You had never stopped any of his advances. Cuddling you, holding you, and smooching your cheek.

You didn't even question it when chaste kisses led to him kissing you hungrily before carefully taking off your clothing, like he was removing the wrapping from something delicate. 

Soon you found yourself laying ass up on his bed with him pounding into you, drinking in all your lusty moans and unabashed calling of his name.

He gripped your hips firmly as he came deeply into you; the pleasure made you see stars. His girthy cock stretched you wonderfully. You felt so lucky and special that this jock spirit had taken an interest in you, a lowly nerd.

Jonesy felt lucky too. He hadn't been in a loop. For a year before your death, he had been haunting you, It was difficult to peek into the living world, but once he found you, he was addicted. 

He loved watching you read books, study, and watch anime. He especially loved watching you shower, fervently jerking hinself off as he did so. 

It wasn't enough though. He needed to have you with him! You had been so perfect for him. You were kindred souls in a way. You were always alone and starved for attention. You'd fall for his affections easily, and you wouldn't just crossover beyond the purgatory the two of you were now in, you were too depressed for that.

Influencing people who were still alive was nearly impossible, but decades of being alone had made Jonesy angry and bitter. He used those emotions as fuel and tried many times to trip you down the stairs or get you to stroll into traffic absentmindedly. Finally, the jock was successful in busting something in your head.

At long last, you were with him. As he held you tightly, after making love several more times, he knew he'd be able to keep you there forever and he'd never have to be alone again. 

[yandere-wishes]

NEEEEEED DAMIAN X CATGIRL READER

ME TOO!!!! IT'S ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT!!! Like it's so delicious, so painful, cause ultimately it boils down to the "sins of the father". A mistake, a role, an endless game. Like it or not Damian is destined to repeat this father's mistakes. He's doomed to fall in love with the carbon copy of his father's beloved. He's Just another distorted image of tomorrow.

And can you imagine all the pain it brings back?? The fact that despite knowing the truth of how he was conceived and the bad blood between his parents. There is still a small part of Damian that longs for a happy family, that longs for both parents to live together, in love and contentment.

But seeing Catwoman just shatters his hopes, because he can see the adoration flickering in his father's stoic eyes, Damian knows his mother can never be Bruce's true love.

Also, can you imagine the other side of it? Damian looks up to his father, adores the dark knight hero in every way. His obsession with you only intensifies when he realizes that you make him more like his dad, make him more like Batman. His Catwoman, his pretty little kitty to chase and put in her place. He grows addicted to the thrill of chasing you, of hunting you. Of caging you between his arms lips grazing your neck, savoring your pulse between his teeth. You are his ethereal link to his father's legacy, the last shard in fulfilling his heritage.

────────୨ৎ────────

✧₊⁺ There's something bittersweet lodged between his heart and throat. Some sickly paramour as he takes in your figure sitting docilely on the edge of the rooftop, legs swinging to an invisible rhythm as you suck away on your milkshake's straw. Damian reaches out, breath thick in his lungs, his fingers pat your silky hair for a moment or eternity, he can never tell when he's with you. It's so much easier to process these silly perfidious sentiments when he's flinging all his energy into soaring between the skylines, heel to heel with you, narrowly skirting the swipe of your claws and the sting of your whip-like tail. Damian's never been good at peace, at quiet, serenity is when his true feelings seep out. Ripping his heart as they bleed away.

✧₊⁺ He's all so torn, emotions clawing at his skin like dragon's teeth. Heart filled with daggers as he dreams of keeping you bound by his side forever. Waking up with your limbs tangled with his. To savor your lips throughout the day. To have you sit on his lap as he reads in the library. Domestic little daydreams, he wonders if his father was ever visited by the same frivolous notions. He wonders if he's always been doomed to walk the same path.

✧₊⁺ Yet despite all his longing for such simple romances, Damian can't deny himself the thrill of the chase, the need to hunt you down. To purify your sins with his lips, to intertwining his fingers with yours, pinning you to whichever wall is closest so you don't steal off him. Forcing you to release your bag of stolen goods, forcing all your attention on him.

✧₊⁺ It's unfair he thinks as he glares at the Bat Computer desperate for any inkling of a robbery, any sign of you.

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Like I was saying I just love the idea of Damian being torn apart with so much grief and (delusional) burden for a simple obsessive crush. Bonus point if reader is his first-ever crush, the only person he's ever felt destined to be with. It's so romantic and heavy, suffocating the poor boy. All the while reader is robbing jewelry stores and stealing sweet treats in hopes of impressing her mentor. Praying to avoid another run-in with the weird boy wonder.

Kinda playing more into legacy. I find it so fascinating to write about Batman's obsession with crime being passed down to his sons. Yet also twisting that righteous obsession into a dark morbid mania. Causing his sons to go astray and fall in love with the thing(s) they were destined to destroy!!!!

Oh and since we're on the topic of heritage and sins of the father, can I take this moment to also mention. Dick Grayson x Jester reader. More specifically a reader who is Joker and Harley's daughter, who wants to be just like her parents and was raised to take up their mantle, just like Dick was with Bruce.

I'm trying to come up with a villain name for her but there are so many possibilities. Jester is my default name for now, but I also like Wildcard and Laughtrack maybe even Giggles (sounds so macabre in this context).

[hausofmingi]

spotlight | choi seungcheol

pairing: choi seungcheol x afab reader

word count: 5.6K

summary: You're so excited to get the opportunity to sound design your favorite show, Hadestown. But the new lighting guy really knows how to piss you off.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, sound designer!reader, lighting designer!seungcheol, switch!reader and switch!seungcheol, fight for dominance, unprotected piv (don't do that), oral (f and m receiving), semi-public?, munch behavior, head pusher (SORRY IM SORRY), use of petnames (babygirl, sweetie/sweetheart, good girl, baby)

author's note: so hi. if you've noticed i've been gone for like months and months, no i haven't mind ya business. ANYWAYS this was a VERYYYYY indulgent fic bc as you may be able to tell i dabble in theatre. but im not a sound person, maybe one day ill do a fic from an actor perspective but something about being in the booth got me IDKKKKKK. also this would never happen and don't do this it's so incredibly unprofessional. and thank you to my betas, @hausofwoo and T, yall always have my back (and so does neo).

It’s always exciting getting started on a new show. The new people, new creative outlets, new ideas to try. After the last couple years of being a sound designer, you really feel like you found your groove when it came to jumping into a new show. 

This is a theatre you have worked for a few times before; a small one but it paid the techies well and even got you some union points. 

The production manager, Moonbyul, was a longtime friend and had called you in to sound design Hadestown. You had to say yes, of course, to one of your favorite musicals. You had seen it on Broadway a few years before and fell in love with it, especially the production design of it all. 

Moonbyul had also mentioned that they were bringing in a new lighting designer. The last one you had worked with was very lovely, but also an older man that would fall asleep between cues so probably for the best…

At the first production meeting, you were eager to get started and fire off all the great ideas you had for the production, so you wanted to get there early to get all your notes organized. 

You walked into the theatre about half an hour early, expecting to see Moonbyul and Vernon (the stage manager) running around, but they were nowhere to be found. 

You set your stuff down in an audience seat, and head to the stage. It had been a few years since you had been on this side of things, but it always gave you a rush to see the audience from this view; standing center stage. 

Retiring from performing was not an easy choice, fueled by hate and trauma and self-judgement. But when it was time to leave, you found a space in sound design. Being taken under the wing of a longtime mentor, Jihoon, made everything come to you easy and you’ve been hooked ever since. 

Even though the stage is dark, you can close your eyes and imagine the audience in front of you, lights shining, costume sparkling. You hum a few bars of “Flowers” to yourself, slowing your breathing and your brain for just a second. 

BOOM. A bright light cuts through your vision. You hold your hands up in front of your eyes to shield them before you open them. 

“What the heck??” you shout at whoever is in the booth. 

“Sorry, sorry.” says a voice, the light too bright for you to make out a face. “You just looked like you could use a spot.”

“I’m good thanks…” you answer back coldly. 

“Alright, but just know you look great from up here. Made for the stage.” the voice says. 

“Thanks..” you answer under your breath, not sure how to react to the obvious compliment.

The spot shuts off and you blink a few times to adjust your eyesight. Standing in the booth is a figure, a taller man with broad shoulders. But it's still too dark to see his facial features. 

It seems as if he’s just standing there… looking at you.

“Um… can you bring up the house lights?” you ask him. 

“Oh yeah! Sorry..” he responds. The house lights come up a second later. “I’m gonna come down there, hold on one sec!” he says.

You step off of the stage, a little embarrassed you got caught lost in a daydream. You walk over to your stuff, digging through your backpack to get out your Ipad and pencil, if only you could find the damn thing…

A tap on your shoulder startles you and you turn around in defense. In front of you stands maybe the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. His hair was long, his bangs perfectly framing his dark, deep eyes. And man were those shoulders broad… he could probably pick you up and throw you around a little….

You were staring. 

“Um.. sorry you scared me.” you said, trying to cover up your obvious gawking. 

“No you’re good, I tend to sneak up on people. I’m Seongcheol by the way, nice to meet you.” he holds out his (very large) hand for you to shake.

“___” you respond, and take his hand. You’re too stunned to even move your hand to shake his, but he holds your hand strongly and commands the handshake. 

An obvious indicator that he can take control. 

You shake away that thought, remembering the pact you made with yourself to stay far far away from another showmance. 

Your hand is still in his, and his eyes have not left yours. Has time slowed down?

“Good, you guys have met!” says Moonbyul, walking down the aisle where you guys were standing, Vernon trailing close behind. Seungcheol lets go of your hand and quickly turns around to face them. 

“Ready to get this meeting started?”

The rest of the production team trickles in and the production meeting promptly starts; Moonbyul is not one for tardiness. 

All the designers give their presentations, and this is always so exciting for you. To watch the production blossom from pieces of paper to onstage art is a beautiful thing. You especially love the costume designers concept of using color to show contrast between the human characters and the god characters.

Finally comes Seungcheol’s presentation. He opens up his laptop to a lighting program, already set with the stages dimensions and the set design and presses play. He explains while the lights change from scene to scene, full of color and different gobos to add texture. 

There is obviously a lot of thought put behind this design. He is extremely talented. And hot. 

His presentation finishes and it’s obvious how his shoulders relax. Those broad shoulders. He must not like being the center of attention, you think.

It’s your turn next, so you shake the thoughts of him away before stepping in front of the others with your laptop in hand. 

You are always very prepared, already having the mic plot done and the sound effects downloaded to the board. You are super excited to present your concept for the final song- I Raise My Cup. Having seen the show on Broadway, you have a good idea of how the audience will react to the final scene of the show. Complete silence. So your concept is to have the characters sing this song with no help of the mics, completely acapella and completely raw. 

“But what if the audience claps?” Seungcheols voice shoots through your confidence. 

“They won't,” you reassure. 

“But they might, and then what? We won't be able to hear Persephone and then the rest of the cast will be thrown off for the rest of the song,” he pushes.

“I promise, that won’t be a problem. The audience will be stunned by the heartbreaking ending, they won’t know what to do.”

“I don’t like it,” he says blankly.

Okay maybe he’s not so hot anymore. 

This little shit is totally bursting your bubble, what the fuck? You were so proud of this idea, why did he have to embarrass you in front of the director and entire production team??

“Let’s put a pin in that one. Thank you for that great presentation, let's move on to props!” says Moonbyul, cutting through the tension. 

You take your seat next to Seungcheol, but not before shooting him a piercing scowl. 

He leans over to you once you sit down. “Hey, no hard feelings. I'm just a skeptic, ya know?” he whispers over the presentation. 

“Yeah well next time please keep it to yourself. Some of us are trying to make a name in this theatre,” you shoot back. 

The rest of the meeting is spent with your arms crossed, trying not to melt into the smell of Seungcheol’s cologne, but rather hold steady in your annoyance with him. 

The next day is the first day of rehearsal for the cast, and although you aren’t called, you decide to come in to organize the booth a little bit. 

They’re learning music on the stage, so you open the booth window so you can hear the cast sing. The music of this show is so beautiful, so romantic. It's nice to listen to while you work.

It’s when the actress playing Eurydice starts singing Flowers that you space off, lost in the beauty of the song. If you were still acting, this role would be a dream role for you. Of course you belt this song all the time in your car. 

You start to sing along under your breath, knowing that no one will hear you up here. 

Flowers, I remember fields of flowers, soft beneath my heels

You sing to yourself, imagining a beautiful field laid out before you instead of a 10-year-old soundboard. 

I remember someone, someone by my side. Turned his face to mine, and then he turned away, into the shade. 

In the field of flowers, who pops into your head but Seungcheol. That asshole is so damn beautiful you can’t help but imagine him as your Orpheus. 

The song finishes out with the final notes and you sigh as your day dream dissipates, shaking away the thought of ever seeing Seungcheol in that way and returning back to the box of mystery chords you were wrapping.

Someone clears their throat behind you. You really hope it's Vernon. 

“Didn’t know you could sing?” says Seungcheol from behind you. 

“I don’t anymore.” you reply coldly, not really interested in conversing with him.

“You should, you have a beautiful voice,” he says.

You turn away from him as he comes to the lightboard next to you, hiding your blush. 

“Thanks,” you say, trying not to show too much emotion in your voice.

Silence fills the space as he pulls up a chair and opens up the light programming app on the desktop. You direct your attention back to your cords that connect to god knows what. 

“So about yesterday…” he starts.

“Yeah, that was a dick move,” you blurt out. Maybe not so direct next time.

“Look I get that you’re upset, but I just call them like I see them. I get your idea but I don’t think it's gonna work. What's wrong with a little bit of criticism?” he asks.

You take a breath before you turn to him and give him a piece of your mind.

“What’s wrong is I don’t know what gave you the idea that I asked for criticism. I’ve been working at this theatre for a long time, you’re still fresh meat. Really isn’t a good look to come flouncing in giving everyone unsolicited criticism,” you spit at him. 

You get so worked up that you stomp over to where he is sitting on the other side of the booth. The look on his face is unwavering though, in fact it turns into a smirk as he stands. 

He is easily a foot taller than you, looking down at you without closing the space between the two of you. 

You feel so small. You swear you feel yourself throb.

“Someone’s got their panties in a twist,” he says, still smirking. 

You are stunned, mouth falling open but no words coming out. That sentence has never sounded sexier.

“It’s alright, I’ll be nicer to you from now on, knowing how sensitive you get.” he says, leaning down to whisper in your ear for extra effect. 

And then the asshole just walks away and sits back down as if nothing even happened. 

You’re still frozen in place, in shock at the intense flirting that just happened. 

“So, you said you have worked here for a while, how have you liked it?” he asks, continuing the conversation with no indication of what just happened. 

This is going to be a long day. 

After a few hours of genuinely torturous small talk with Seungcheol mixed with palpable silence, you decide to call it an early day. You got almost nothing done, besides wrapping and unwrapping a bunch of useless cords and clicking on random folders on the sound desktop. 

As you leave, he promises to see you tomorrow and sends you off with a wink that makes your knees weak.

The next day, you get there later than usual. The cast is learning blocking in the dance studio, giving the techies free reign of the stage for the afternoon. 

You’re hoping your tardiness will allow you to avoid the overlap with Seungcheol and you can have the booth to yourself.

But, no luck. There he is, sitting in the rolling chair at the lighting desktop in the sexiest skin tight compression shirt you’ve ever seen. 

You don’t even realize you’re gawking when he turns the chair around. “Like what you see?” he teases.

You come back to your senses at his words. “You wish,” you grumble as you head to your station, hoping to get some work done today. 

You swear you hear him scoff as he turns back to the desktop.

“Blackout!” he shouts down to the set people on the stage, as he presses the “next cue” button. A series of “thank you blackouts!” follow, in proper theatre etiquette.

You keep quiet though. 

He goes through a few more cues, calling blackout a few more times, and you still don’t say anything. 

“You know, it’s proper manners to say ‘thank you’ when I call blackout,” he points out after the 4th time.

“What do you know about manners?” you grumble under your breath.

He crosses over to you, again smirking, as he says “Enough to know that you need to learn some, baby girl.”

Shocks of electricity go straight to your clit. 

“Don’t call me that, get that stick out of your ass, and fucking leave me alone Seungcheol!” you shout, unsure if you're more angry or turned on or both. 

You grab your stuff to leave in a hurry, all the while he doesn’t move from his spot where he’s standing; just leans against the counter and crosses his arms to watch you angrily throw stuff in your bag. 

You turn to leave, expecting him to apologize for his inappropriate comment. But when you turn to look back at him, all you see is him looking at you with that stupidly sexy smirk on his face. He waves a finger at you before you stomp down the stairs and out of the booth. 

You text Moonbyul and Vernon some bullshit excuse about period cramps and that you have to leave early, before going home and using up all the battery in your vibrator.

Saturday no one is called, so you use this as an excuse to go in and pick up where you left off before leaving in a huff.

Luckily you have keys, so you let yourself into the empty theatre and up to the booth.

It’s really nice to work in the silence of the empty theatre, only the ghostlight lighting the stage. You leave the ceiling light off in the booth, only leaving on the string lights you and Jihoon added to make the space more cozy. 

You put on your headphones and get to work. The music director sent you a recording of the cast singing, so you make sure all your cues align with the music.

You work for about an hour before it's rudely interrupted by Seungcheol lifting one side of the headphones off your ear. You feel his breath on the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your back, before he whispers, “Boo.” 

Jumping out of your chair a little bit, you snatch his hand away from your headphones and turn back around without a word to him. 

“Sorry to scare you,” he giggles. “I just forgot my charger last time.”

You give him no reply, not interested in potentially entering another conversation where you leave dripping.

“Actually, would you mind if I stayed and worked on a few things?” he asks.

Again, you don’t respond. 

You see him shrug his shoulders in your peripherals and sit down in his chair to get to work.

Both of you sit in heavy silence as you work, and the more silent it is, the more you feel the tension rise, with anger burning in your chest.

What is the deal with this guy? Does he like just getting a rise out of people? Why does he feel the need to torture me? What did I even do to him??

“Gum?” he asks, holding out a pack to you.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you shout back.

He looks stunned as he takes a piece out and unwraps it, popping it in his mouth. “So, no gum then…”

“Why do you treat me this way, Seungcheol? It’s fucked up,” you shout, moving towards him to really give it to him.

“Treat you what way exactly?” he asks slyly.

“You just keep saying annoying shit to me, pushing my buttons and pissing me off. But then you make me leave every conversation so turned on that I can’t even think straight. I don’t get it, what is your issue with me??” You shout at him.

He looks at you in silence for a second, his expression unreadable.

“I… turn you on?” he asks.

Oh shit. You may have revealed a bit too much….

“I… what? I didn’t mean to say that,” you stutter.

“Oh well in that case… it won’t mean anything to you if I do this?” 

He stands up and turns to face you, arms leaning against the countertop, caging you between them. You swear you see the veins straining against his skin, bulging out from his thick arms as he moves closer.

He leans in close to your ear, breath fanning down your neck. You’re frozen in place, trying to focus on slowing your breathing. 

“Jump,” he says. And you do, hopping up to sit on the counter. Why did you just obey him??

“Good girl.”

Oh that’s why.

“Now,” he starts, his lips moving all over your neck, so close but not touching as he breathes the next few words onto you. 

“I’m really curious to know exactly what it is I do that turns you on?” one of his hands snakes up the side of your thigh, dipping just slightly under the skirt you’re wearing and playing with the edge. 

“Can you tell me, baby girl?” he says before he licks a stripe up your neck. 

You shudder and lean into him a little bit. It’s over for you now.

“Say the word and I’ll stop,” he says, hovering in front of your lips now. 

You grab his arm to stop him from moving back. “Please,” you say in a desperate voice. 

His lips meet yours, and slowly he starts making out with you. His big lips make it sloppy, but it's so hot you could care less.

He sneaks his tongue into your mouth, swirling around yours so sensually it goes straight to your throbbing pussy. He snakes his hand into your hair, guiding your head with his big hand to deepen the kiss. 

The strap of your tank top falls and before you can put it back, he takes the opportunity to bring it down even more, revealing your bare breast to him. He pinches your nipple between two fingers, lightly twisting it enough to make you whimper into his mouth.

He pulls away after a few seconds, a string of spit connecting your lips. You look up at his large frame through your lashes, breathing heavily. 

And then he does something you don’t expect. He drops to his knees. 

He grabs your ass and forcefully pulls you forward on the counter to access you better. You know he can see the wet spot forming on your white panties, and try to cross your legs out of embarrassment.

“Absolutely not.” he says in protest, snaking his arms underneath your thighs and grabbing them so you’re practically sitting on his shoulders.

He kisses up and down your thighs, not yet touching you where you need him. You whine and wiggle your hips, attempting to bring him closer. 

“Someone really does have their panties in a twist…” he smirks from below you. That little shit.

He barely gives you what you desperately need, lightly kissing your clit through your panties.

“Cheol, please…” you whine, attempting to get him to give you a little bit more. 

“Babygirl, I know you can beg better than that,” he says, lifting his head up. He keeps a finger pressed to your clit as he talks, rubbing in small, torturous circles. 

Your cheeks heat up, probably turning red. You’ve already given in to this annoying shit, there’s no way you’re begging for him. You just whine in response, not willing to give him what he wants. 

“You sure you don’t want to beg for it?...” he questions slyly, while at the same time moving your now completely wet panties to the side.

He gives your pulsing clit a few kitten licks, just enough to give you a taste of what you could have, all while never breaking eye contact with you. 

You whimper at the contact, starting to reach out your hand to grab his head and pull it closer. He knows what you're up to, though, and grabs your wrist, forcing it back to its place on the counter.

“Now try again baby, beg for what you want.” he says, slipping your panties off in anticipation.

You sit there a minute, chest already heaving with desire, dripping all over the counter. 

“Please Cheol, you know how badly I need it. I deserve it after all the shit you put me through,” you say, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can think about them fully.

He raises his eyebrow at you, smiling that stupid fucking smirk that makes you shiver. “Oh is that so?” he questions.

And then he dives in. It’s as if he has been eating your pussy for years, somehow finding the exact rhythm and pressure on your clit that makes the string lights turn blurry. His arms are wrapped around both of your thighs, as if he was trying to choke them out. 

You grab the back of his head with one hand, and start rolling your hips into his mouth, chasing the high that is hurdling closer. He loves it, judging by the way he growls into your pussy, barely pulling away to mumble “fuck yes” before plunging two fingers into you. 

It only takes him hooking them into your g-spot a few times along with flicking your clit with his tongue before you are cumming into him, gasping and not letting go of the tight hold you have on his hair. 

He pulls away, resting his head on the inside of your thigh, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. His plump lips are completely drenched with your wetness. He looks up at you through his lashes, as if you were a goddess.

Oh, it really is over for me. 

“Stand up,” you order.

He questions you at first, but then gets the message when you hop off the counter and drop to your knees. 

He pets your hair, towering over you, but not unbuckling his belt like you so want him to. 

“You really don’t have to, baby. But it’s so sweet seeing how compliant you are.” he says with a slight smirk. 

“Shut up,” you say, all the while undoing his belt. He continues to pet your hair, watching your every move. 

You pull his cock out of his boxers. It's perfect; long but not too long, and slightly curved upwards. He’s definitely a fucking munch seeing how much it's already dripping precum. 

You hover your lips around the tip, kissing it lightly. He hums above you in approval. 

“Now, it's your turn to beg for it.” you tease, pulling away from him. 

He chuckles from above you, fucking chuckles, before grabbing the back of your head with more force than before.

“Oh sweetie, I don’t beg.” he says, before pulling your head forward onto him.

A head pusher? Yeah… But for some reason, this time, it was the hottest thing he could have done. 

You get to work, watching his mouth drop open in pleasure while you work your mouth up and down his length. You cup your tongue around the underside of him, pulling out every trick in the book to try and get the upperhand in this fight.

He’s very obviously enjoying it, moaning loud enough for anyone in the theater to hear and eyes locked into contact with yours. He swipes his other hand through his bangs, which are now collecting the sweat from his brow. God he’s beautiful.

Even though his hand is holding your head down, you still have full control, so you slow down your pace just a little to try another trick. 

You bring your hand up to cup his balls, lightly squeezing and tugging to bring him closer. You feel his cock pulse in your mouth at the added pleasure. 

But nothing could’ve prepared him for your next trick. 

You slowly trail your finger backwards, lightly circling his rim to test the waters. But before you can even think about going further, you hear a gargled moan come from him, and he pulls you off your knees by your hair. 

Your face meets his, foreheads touching, but you divert your eyes down, scared you may have crossed a line.

“Why the fuck are you trying to make me cum before I get to feel that pussy around me?” he asks.

Your cheeks heat up knowing that it worked, filing that info into your head for another time. 

“Turn around,” he barks, but you stay still. You bring your eyes up off the floor to meet his, determined not to let him win the struggle for control. 

“Funny if you think I’m going to let you fuck me from behind right off the bat.” you say, trying to put power behind your words even though you feel so little in his arms. 

“Oh, well then what’s your alternative sweetheart?” he cuts back at you, as if humoring you.

“Take this off,” you say, tugging at his shirt, “and sit down.”

“Hm… but aren’t you going to take anything off too?” he asks, pulling away and pulling his shirt over his head from the back of the neck. 

You get distracted by his toned stomach, your retort getting stuck in the back of your throat. 

He giggles at you again, before stepping forward and grabbing the hem of the crop top you were wearing. 

“How about, we take this off, but leave the skirt on?” he says, dragging his fingers along the bottom of your shirt, waiting for your consent.

You nod at him, and he swiftly lifts the top off of you, leaving you in your skirt and bra. 

He silently backs up into the chair, sitting down and draping his thick arms over the arms of it.

You slowly walk towards him, really wanting to drag this part out, before you lift up your legs to straddle him in the chair.

You hover over his cock, but before you drop down, you make eye contact with him. He’s staring into you, as if looking into your soul, and you stutter your movements, all of the sudden getting nervous. 

It’s as if he senses the nerves, and brings a hand to the small of your back, trying to reassure and ground you silently.

You reach your hands up to cup his cheeks, before leaning in to kiss him. This one is different though, not like the intense one before. This one is slower, tongues just brushing over each other. Kissing like you have all the time in the world.

Your hands tangle in his hair as you slowly sink onto his length, pausing the kiss to moan in each other's mouths. 

As you bottom out, he holds your hips in place, not allowing you to start bouncing. “Just give me a minute, baby. You feel too good.” he sighs out.

You find it endearing how close he already is just from the kiss, and as much as you are tempted to start the game of control back up and just start bouncing, you stay still. 

You press your body against his in anticipation, so that your stomachs are pressed together. He feels so warm against you, and his arms circle around your back as he lets go of your hips. 

You take this as a green light and start bouncing on him, never breaking the contact of your forehead against his. 

He fills you up soooo perfectly, the curve in his cock dragging so deliciously along your g-spot. You can’t help but to speed up, the sounds of his balls slapping your wet pussy fill the booth. 

He’s circled his arms around your hips now, grabbing your ass and basically moving you up and down on his cock without you having to do any work. But even with that, the awkward position makes your legs burn and you start to slow down. 

“You getting tired baby?” he asks, and you nod. “Do you need me to help you?” he asks, to which you nod again. 

He wraps his arm underneath your thighs and picks you up out of the chair as if you weighed nothing. You knew those arms would come to good use. He sets you down on the edge of the counter before entering you again. 

You keep your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as he starts thrusting into you. This angle is different than before, allowing him to directly hit your g-spot every time.

His pace is somehow way more effective at pushing you to the edge than your own pace was, and you find yourself getting desperately close to your second orgasm. 

It’s as if he can read your mind, or it's probably just him feeling your pussy pulse around him tightly, but he smirks to himself. Almost too small for you to notice. But you do notice, and next thing you know he is pulling out and jacking his cock off in between you both. You whimper at the loss of him filling you up. 

“Help me cum and maybe I’ll let you cum again when I get you in my bed tonight,” he breathes out heavily. 

You huff out in frustration, but unfortunately, you are completely under his spell. You reach in between you both and take over jacking him off. Your other hand snakes around the back of his head, pulling it down towards you so you can whisper in his ear. 

“Maybe if you make me cum again tonight, I'll let you fill me up.” you whisper in his ear. 

That sends him over the edge, and he grabs the counter as he stutters in your hands, cumming all over your skirt. 

You giggle as his orgasm trails off. “You owe me a new skirt now I guess.” you say.

He catches his breath before scooping you up into his arms again. “I’ll buy you a hundred new skirts if you suck my dick my like that again.” 

With another giggle, you peck him on the nose. “So, does this mean I won the fight?” you ask. 

“I don’t know what makes you think that babygirl,” he chuckles as he sets you down. 

He hands you your shirt before finding his own. Still a gentleman even when he’s being an asshole. 

A door in the theatre opens, scaring the shit out of both of you. You both scramble into the spotlight room to put your clothes back on out of sight of the huge window.

“Hey guys! I know you’re here! The director just emailed me back with some tech notes.” Vernon yells from the audience. 

“Okay come on up, it's unlocked!” Seungcheol yells down to Vernon from the enclosed room, now fully dressed. 

He pecks you on the lips before rushing out of the room to his seat at the counter. Which you just fucked on.

You scramble to clean off your skirt with a tissue before rushing to your own chair and sitting down. But it isn’t until you sit down that you realize, you’re still not wearing panties. 

It’s as if Seungcheol reads your mind and you both lock eyes in terror. There are your panties sitting in the middle of the counter. 

The door opens and Vernon starts walking up the stairs to the booth as Seungcheol grabs your panties and haphazardly stuffs them in his pocket. 

“Hey guys, glad you're--” he stops in the middle of the sentence. “It smells like dick in here what the fuck??” he exclaims.

You hid your face, scared you might burst out laughing. 

Seungcheol takes the heat for you though, explaining it off as him leaving some leftovers in here overnight.

Vernon takes you both through some notes before leaving, with a peculiar expression on his face. 

Something tells you he has a suspicion, and you might be hearing some rumors tomorrow thanks to the nosy theatre bitches you surround yourself with…

It’s silent for a moment after Vernon leaves, before you both burst out laughing. 

“Okay well that was fun, but I’m getting my chair all wet. Can I have my underwear back now?” you ask after the laughter dies down. 

“Um, absolutely not! I’m keeping these,” Seungcheol says with a wink before turning back to his desktop to finally get to work. 

And later that night, you both get what you promised.

a/n: thank you for reading, and please reblog and leave feedback! 💕

[nataliasquote]

Can’t You See This Is Breaking Me? | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha isn’t quite ready to give her entire life for the woman she loves

Warnings: injuries, blood, stitches, no happy ending

wc: 5.2k

note: this idea was given to me by @katyaromanoffpetrova (love you 🤍) and she’s fuelling my love hate relationship with angst. Also, this was so hard to condense, so I’m sorry if it’s lacking detail. I tried to cram three years of a relationship into 5k words :)

-⧗-

It was no secret to anyone how little regard Natasha had for her own life. Even since her very first Shield mission, she’d been a force to be reckoned with, partly down to her pure destructive nature. She didn’t care if taking down Hydra agents meant coming away with a bullet wound or two. Or if destroying an enemy testing laboratory meant four broken ribs and a cracked collar bone. As long as the job was done, that was all she cared about.

Nick Fury was getting tired of how many lectures he had given a young, 25 year old Natasha in his office when he’d read her completed mission report. He knew why she had such a blatant disregard for her life but it didn’t make it any easier seeing one of his best agents beaten and bruised each week. The redhead barely flinched when her wounds were inspected, but to be honest she didn’t really react to anything.

She was more of a ghost really, a pale figure soundlessly walking the halls at night. If her injuries didn’t let keep her awake at night, then the nightmares gladly took their turn, drenching her entire body in a cold sweat and leaving her shivering in her tangled sheets. But if the dark circles under her eyes looked worse, her friend and mentor Clint didn’t utter a word.

The structure and routine that manifested week by week kept her grounded and focused. Wake up, train, eat, surveillance, sleep. Missions were a welcome break from the otherwise monotonous rhythm Natasha had found herself in. She much preferred working solo as opposed to in a team, but Shield was all about team work so she had to suck it up.

A lot of the time she found herself alongside Clint Barton who weirdly offered her a feeling of comfort. She liked how he never pried too much into how she was feeling, or her past, but kept a look out for her whenever they were together. Her icy demeanour slowly melted away thanks to his warmth that he never failed to show her.

He showed her how to let people in, how to not keep her heart so tightly guarded in fear of actually feeling something about someone. And as much as she would hate to admit it, he was right. It did feel better knowing people cared about her. But it also terrified her at the same time. Vulnerability wasn’t her strong suit.

Yet somehow she had managed to let her tough exterior be pushed aside just long enough for a certain someone to wiggle her way in and take up permanent residence inside the redhead’s mind.

Y/n Y/l/n wasn’t really anyone compared to Natasha. Sure, she was a shield agent, and a high ranking one at that, but that was nothing compared to an Avenger. She’d spend years in their shadow, always looking up to Natasha Romanoff. I mean, who wouldn’t? She’s pretty badass.

But the young agent thought her relationship with said Avenger would end at idolisation and daydreaming. She never expected to suddenly be living amongst them in the compound. But when an empty training room was suddenly disrupted at three in the morning, it was a sign things were to change forever.

Y/n relished the silence that the training room at night brought. Most of her colleagues preferred to train in a group at 7am, but insomnia often brought her into the gym a lot earlier. She loved it though; a way to clear her head and exhaust her body whilst maintaining peak physical fitness required in case of a last second mission.

Lost in a world of music playing through her headphones, Y/n failed to notice the door slowly open, caught up in her boxing routine on the punch bag. She should have been more aware of her surroundings, like she’d been trained, so that she didn’t nearly jump out of her skin as a voice cut through her music.

“You’re gonna get a sore back if you keep using the wrong form.”

Without having ever met in person, Y/n would recognise that voice anywhere. She whipped around and quickly pulled her headphones off around her neck, cheeks flushing as she took in the woman in front of her.

A black sports bra and navy sweatpants was all that adorned Natasha’s toned body. She stood there with a hand on her hip, the other holding a small towel, a water bottle and her own pair of headphones. Y/n desperately tore her eyes away from the widow’s toned abs, feeling her own insecurities creep upwards. She itched for her sweatshirt that lay discarded on the bench just out of reach. That was the last time she ever trained in a sports bra.

“You keep twisting your back as you punch. You need to move from your hips.” Y/n just looked at her with surprise, not fully processing that they were having a conversation at all. “Do you want me to show you?”

“Yeah, sure.” That snapped her out of her trance. Y/n took a step back and allowed Nat to place her things down before she packed a swift punch to the bag, sending it swinging slightly on its stand. Y/n couldn’t lie, she looked really good, arm muscles tensed as she threw a few more punches. Her form was impeccable, but of course it was.

“When you swing round you have to rotate your hips for momentum. Just turning from your back will cause injury.” Y/n nodded, mirroring her stance on the punching bag beside Natasha. “Unless you’re doing lots of smaller ones, then you need to keep your hips still. That just comes from your shoulders.”

Nat threw a few more punches before Y/n copied, missing the small smile that broke out on the Russian’s lips as she observed. Fast learner, she noted, nodding in approval as Y/n turned back to her.

“Very good.” She bent down to grab her things, back muscles on full show to Y/n who just could not stop staring. You’d think she was used to the sight of toned bodies after working out everyday, but there was something different about Natasha and she couldn’t quite work it out.

“Thank you. I’m Y/n, by the way. I work in-“

“I know who you are,” Natasha said casually, looking the woman up and down. “You work with Hill. She talks about you.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide. “She does?”

Nat smirked. “Yeah, why? Does she not talk about me?”

“No, she does- we do-“ what happened to calm and collected shield agent she once was? Reduced to a stuttering mess of words in front of a pretty redhead. God, Y/n cursed herself for not being able to talk to women.

“I’m joking, don’t worry.” Natasha gave her a soft smile before walking off to the weights section, her headphones shutting out the world so she could focus.

Y/n however, could not focus on anything except that brief interaction. It was probably so small in Natasha’s life, yet it would consume Y/n for at least a week, if not more. Maria was going to have a field day with this.

Except it wasn’t small in Natasha’s life. The flustered agent had left quite a mark and Natasha found herself creeping down to the gym at 3am most mornings, hoping to see the woman she’d grown to love so much. And, more often than not, Y/n was there, punching away at the bag and pausing when Nat came in.

Over a course of many weeks, both had changed their training plans to match each other. It felt nice working out with another, Natasha had to admit, and Y/n was so easy to talk to she set the redhead right at ease. They talked and laughed and Y/n noticed how the usually uptight Russian had come out of her shell a lot more since that very first night.

However, one night didn’t go so smoothly. Y/n was in the training room first, of course. She sat on the bench and adjusted her socks, keeping herself busy until Natasha arrived. The past couple of nights had been just her as the redhead had been on a mission, but Maria informed her that she would return tonight, so Y/n anxiously awaited her return. She was more worried about Natasha than she let on, but they had no relationship outside of those four walls so she bounced her knee, willing her new friend to walk through the doors.

And she did. Except this wasn’t the confident Natasha she usually knew. No, this Natasha was walking stiffly, almost as if she was in pain.

“Nat?” Y/n asked, standing hesitantly at the sight of her. Small cuts and bruises littered her face and what skin was exposed under the neck of her tactical suit. Agents always had to report to medical following their return from a mission, but by the looks of Natasha, she hadn’t done that. “Why- what are you doing here?”

“Can’t miss training with my favourite girl, now can I?” She tried to sound upbeat but it fell flat, her pain evident even in her voice.

Y/n pushed aside the butterflies that erupted in her chest at those words and sprung up to help her, guiding Natasha to the nearest bench and forcing her to sit. She took note of how Natasha’s hand tightly clutched her side and she feared the worst.

She thought for a second, feeling Natasha’s eyes all over her face. “May I…?” She gestured to the zip on Natasha’s suit and the redhead nodded, stiffly manoeuvring her arms out of her sleeves as Y/n tugged it down to her waist. The agent had switched to processional mode and ignored how close Natasha’s bra clad chest was to her face as she inspected her side.

“What happened?” She asked, crouching down with a hand gently resting on the redhead’s knee as she gently felt the skin around the wound.

“Some stupid agent snuck up on me and threw his knife. Shit aim though.” Of course she tried to make a joke, but Y/n wasn’t laughing as she looked into her eyes. The redhead almost wanted to roll her eyes, and she would have done if anyone else looked at her with pity like that, but Y/n was different. Safer.

“Why didn’t you go to medical?”

Nat looked down, averting her eyes. “I didn’t want to. I hate it there.”

Y/n knew not to push. She didn’t know much about Natasha’s past but knew enough to know that it must have been horrific to endure. She sat back on her heels and bit her lip in thought.

“Will you let me sort it? I keep a suture kit and supplies in my bathroom.” She caught Natasha’s eye and gently squeezed her knee, trying to establish enough trust between them to let her accept the help. But Natasha was stubborn, so there was truly no way of knowing which way she’d swing.

“Ok.” That was not the expected answer but Y/n was happy to hear it. She knew not to help Natasha up, the redhead probably would have punched her, so she collected her things and led them both back to her apartment, walking a bit slower than normal to help Natasha keep up.

Her room was nothing special and probably looked identical to Natasha’s as they both had Shield issued rooms. Although Natasha’s would be fancier thanks to Tony Stark and his upgrades.

There were no personal items on any of the surfaces, not even in the bedroom. Natasha looked around with a frown, not liking how bare everything seemed. Not homely, that’s for sure. Even the bedside cabinets were empty, not even a picture frame for decoration.

“Take a seat anywhere, I’ll be right out.” Natasha chose the couch by the small coffee table and sank down onto it. The couch wasn’t anything special and neither was the table, ring marks displaying its age and use on the surface. The overhead light was dim but brightened up as Y/n stepped back into the room, a medical kit tucked under her arm.

She worked in silence, only broken by a hiss of pain from Natasha as the alcohol stung her wound. Y/n muttered an apology under her breath but kept working, fingers brushing gently over the soft skin as she made light work of stitching it closed. They weren’t the neatest but they’d do the job just fine.

“Thank you for this,” Natasha spoke into the silence, her eyes fixed on her fingers that rested on her lap. “You didn’t have to.”

“Maybe not, but I wanted to. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Natasha stayed silent for a moment, trying to organise her thoughts. She had people who cared about her, the Avengers, but not quite like Y/n had. She didn’t care who Natasha was, or how well she could take down enemies. She just enjoyed her presence and cared for her as a human being, something she rarely felt like she was.

“Can I make this up to you?” She tentatively asked, the strong Black Widow now a weird mess of nerves. What even was this?

“No, you don’t have to-“

“Come out with me on Saturday, into the city. Can I buy you lunch?”

Y/n stifled her smile and hid her face whilst packing up her equipment. She knew Natasha was asking her out on a date, albeit in a very roundabout way. It warmed her heart though, seeing her so soft. It was a side very few people ever got to see.

“Ok, sure. I’d really like that.”

Natasha smiled. “Now I know where you sleep, I’ll come pick you up.”

Y/n scrunched her nose at the odd phrasing. “You had to make it weird.”

“You know me,” she replied with a wink.

~~~

That date was a catalyst for many more to follow, and many midnight training sessions too. It took six more months of flirting and secret meet ups before Natasha pulled her heart out and wore it on her sleeve, asking Y/n to be her girlfriend.

The agent wasn’t stupid, of course she said yes. And at first their relationship was purely in the honeymoon stages; sneaking kisses in the hallway, comforting touches underneath the table, more midnight training and also moving in together. Natasha’s apartment was bigger than Y/n could ever have imagined and she adored the bed, starfishing face down on the mattress the first time she saw it.

But that was two years ago. Sure, they were still very much in love but something had shifted between them, creating a rift that Y/n had started to notice more and more. She knew what was causing it too.

Natasha was going on missions every other week, for days at a time. And she’d fallen back into her old habits, putting the job and the result over the safety of herself. More times than not did she come battered and bruised, open wounds bleeding as she walked into the bedroom. Y/n begged her to stop, to stay home more, to reduce the amount she went on even just to one a month, but her desperate attempts were met with a slammed door and a wall in Natasha’s mind. But she still persisted, trying again the next time Natasha came home. But it was useless.

Y/n always waited up for her though, the nerves of what state Natasha would be in when she returned making sleep pretty much impossible. Whatever she imagined, somehow it was always worse. She used to quiz Natasha as she led her into the bathroom and patched her up, placing kisses on each bruise that she found.

But now they barely said a word, Y/n almost running on autopilot as she cleaned cuts on Natasha’s back for what felt like the millionth time. It was draining her, anyone could see that, and being on edge all the time had made Maria notice.

“Take a week off to clear your head,” her supervisor had ordered, not taking any protests into consideration. “I don’t want to see you in this office before next Thursday, Y/l/n.”

A week off would have been great for anyone else but her. Natasha was away, again, which left Y/n with no ways to fully distract herself like she usually did to cope. She spent the first day in bed, holding onto Natasha’s pillow as her tears soaked the pillowcase. She hated how out of control she felt when Natasha was gone. It was her job, yet Y/n often wished Nat would retire, or at least pull back from constantly being in the field. But that’s what her girlfriend loved, so she had no choice but to respect it.

But on the third day of very little sleep and increasing stress levels, Y/n hit breaking point. She stared at her ghostly reflection as she splashed her face with some water, trying desperately to snap herself out of the lie she was feeling. But under the glaring lights all she could focus on were the heavy bags under her eyes and her discoloured skin, pink blotches littering her cheeks and forehead. She’d been picking at her skin to cope, but it did nothing but make her look worse.

She remained a zombie all day, curling back under the covers at 7pm to shut out the world. There was no telling when Natasha would return but part of her didn’t want it to be yet. She didn’t want to see the state she was in, the mess that she’d have to clean up. She loved Natasha, she really did, but with no contact allowed on her missions and no updates from the team, Y/n was starting to question if their relationship was even working.

She flicked off the light and turned to face the wall, images flashing in front of her as she worried herself stupid about her girlfriend. What if she wasn’t coming home? What if she’d been kidnapped? What if-

The apartment door opened.

Y/n held her breath, pulling the covers tightly under her chin as she waited. She knew the sound of Natasha’s footsteps based on her different moods, but the assassin stepped so lightly it was hard to tell. She felt footsteps getting closer and closer and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to face the horrors to come. She wanted one more blissful moment, but her heart was racing in her chest and her throat was getting tight.

The bedroom door opened.

Light from the living room flooded in through the small gap as Natasha stepped through, brows furrowed at the darkness. It wasn’t that late, but maybe she’d missed something. Wasn’t like she was around much.

“Y/n?” She whispered, not wanting to turn the light on. But she didn’t need to worry about that when suddenly the room was bathed in light. Her girlfriend was sat up in bed, eyes blotchy as she stared at her with a hand on the light switch. “What happened?”

“What hurts?” Y/n asked, sliding off her side of the bed and padding over to the bathroom. “Stitches? Probably bruising too.” She was talking to herself more than Natasha, hands working to gather her supplies. But she was stopped when a pair of rough hands gathered hers inside them, tugging her away from the sink. “What are you doing?”

“I’m ok,” Natasha said, removing one of her hands to gently cup Y/n’s chin, tilting her eyes to meet her own. “Just a couple of bruised ribs, but that’s nothing.”

“At least let me look at them.” Natasha knew she wasn’t going to take no for an answer so she unzipped her suit and pulled it to her waist, revealing the nasty colourful sight. It was swollen and tender and Y/n cursed under her breath. She grabbed the tiger balm and gently applied it, trying to steady her shaking fingers as they touched Natasha’s skin.

“How have you been? How’s work?”

“Its fine, thanks.” Y/n wasn’t going to admit that Maria made her take a week off. She avoided Natasha’s gaze as she worked, even though there wasn’t much she could do for bruised ribs. “I’ll get you an ice pack when you’re dressed.” That was Natasha’s dismissal cue and she took it, but not without lingering in the doorway to watch Y/n for a moment.

By the time Natasha was dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, Y/n had wrapped the ice pack in a towel and handed it to her. There was an uneasy tension between them and Natasha could see something was on Y/n’s mind, just waiting to be said.

“Y/n-“

“This is your last one, right?” She couldn’t help herself but blurt out. Somehow she found the confidence with her back to Nat, sitting on her side of the bed. “Please tell me it’s your last one.”

“Of what?”

“Your missions, Natasha.” She bent one knee and tucked it beside her as she turned her body to face Natasha who was still standing in the middle of the room, ice pack pressed to her ribs. “How many times are you going to keep doing this? Coming home in a state! I never know if one day you’re just not going to come home at all.”

Natasha bit her bottom lip. She knew this was going to happen, it always did. And shutting Y/n down didn’t exactly get easier with practice. “Don’t do this again Y/n, please. You know what my answer is.”

“No, Natasha. I’m not gonna accept that anymore. I’m not asking you to quit all together. I just mean reduce the number you go on, take up desk work or surveillance, just something, anything, to get you out of the firing line.” Y/n ran her hands over her face, trying to keep herself together. But the more she spoke, the stronger her emotions got. “I can’t live like this anymore!”

Natasha had placed her ice pack on the bed, not feeling the need to hold it up right now. She couldn’t move, even though she wanted to run to Y/n. “I know you don’t like it-“

“I hate it.”

“Ok fine, you hate it,” she held her hands up in defense. “But that doesn’t mean I suddenly have to stop.”

Y/n stood up from her position, not wanting an ache in her back from turning so much. She and Natasha were now at eye level although the redhead’s stoic face was a lot more composed than her own.

“You’re not listening to anything I say. I never said you had to stop. Ever. Because that would be hypocritical coming from me.” Natasha pulled a ‘sounds about right’ face which Y/n just ignored. “I’m just asking you to reduce the amount you go on. Once a month, maybe? You can still be in the action, still do everything you love, but that way you’re safer and you’re here more. I hardly see you.”

Natasha shook her head. “Our line of work isn’t safe Y/n, even you know that surely.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She was getting defensive, having reached her limit of Natasha trying to shut her down.

Natasha was too stubborn to give up, even when she knew she fucked up. She just couldn’t let it go. “You rarely leave this place! Always stuck in the same office, the same four walls going insane every day! I don’t know how you do it! I’d rather quit than do that.”

“I do that because I can still contribute to the missions without the risk of getting blown to hell,” Y/n spat, taking full offense to Natasha talking down about her job. Sure, she didn’t go into the field as much as the other agents but she preferred to be in the chair, handling everything from above. “And you know damn well those missions you love don’t work without someone like me.”

“And that’s great, for someone like you. But I can’t do that, you have to understand me. I can’t be behind the fight, I have to be in it.”

“No one else goes on as many as you do, Natasha. Don’t you think that just once, someone else can take a mission-“

“I don’t care Y/n!” Natasha may be a passionate person but she never raised her voice. So her elevated tone made Y/n’s jaw clench, her innate response whenever someone shouted at her. “You don’t get to dictate my life! That wasn’t our agreement-“

“Agreement? What, so this is, are we some kind of, I don’t know, contract that you’re obliged to?”

Natasha scoffed, her eyes rolling back at the pure ridiculousness of her statement. This whole argument was pointless really but she entertained it, too stubborn to give in or let Y/n win. “Oh come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m just sick of lying here in fear every week wondering if you’re actually going to come home or not! I can’t keep doing this Nat.” Y/n was having a hard time keeping Natasha in her vision as tears blurred in her eyes. But she wouldn’t let them spill. Crying meant Natasha won and she was done with backing down.

“We can’t keep having this conversation, Y/n,” Natasha grunted, running her fingers through her hair and tugging out the messy braid. “You know I can’t stop. This is my life, it’s what I was made to do. I can’t live without this job!”

“And I can’t live without you!” Her voice cracked and a tear slipped down but she fought the urge to wipe it, praying Natasha didn’t see. But she did see. Of course she did. The Russian noticed everything.

Natasha went silent. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. In this line of work, relying so heavily on someone wasn’t a good idea. She knew that, it had been drilled into her since she was a child. But Y/n didn’t, and that’s where she slipped up.

“Don’t say that.” Heavy emotions and Natasha Romanoff didn’t really mix well. “You have to, one way or another. You can’t just rely on me Y/n.”

“Nat, I am in love with you but lately it feels like all you care about is your job. When is it going to feel like you actually want to be here? With me?”

“I do Y/n, I do-“

Y/n dropped her head. “I know there’s a but coming.”

Natasha looked at the defeated form of her girlfriend and winced. She never thought she’d ever be in the position where she had to choose between family and her job. But she knew what her choice would be, what it always had been. Long before she even had a family.

“This job means everything to me. I didn’t choose this life, like you did, I was forced into it. It’s part of who I am, and I can’t just stop doing that to be with you.” The second those words fell from her lips Natasha knew that was the wrong thing to say.

Y/n adjusted the collar of her shirt and started to pace. If she was sitting down her leg would have been bouncing all over the place.

“What, that’s it? You’re just gonna call this whole thing off because you can’t take a break from your job?”

“What ‘whole thing’?”

“Us, Natasha! Us!” Y/n stopped in her tracks, gesturing between them both. They were on opposite sides of the room, a clear divide in space and opinion. “Unless there isn’t an ‘us’ anymore. Maybe I’m just the girl who keeps your bed warm and stitches you up in the middle of the night, no questions asked. Occasionally gives you head if you are really in the mood-“

“Stop it Y/n.”

“Stop what? It’s the truth, isn’t it? That’s all I am to you.”

“‘No, you’re so much more.” Natasha’s fingers were fidgeting with each other and they’d stumbled across a small cut on her palm that they were now playing with, the pain trying to keep her grounded. “But you have to understand that I can’t just take a step back. I love this job more than anything because I actually get to do something good with my skills that have been used for the opposite my whole life. I just need you to understand that, please!”

“You’re not gonna stop, are you?” Natasha just stared at her, chewing on her bottom lip. “No matter what, you will keep coming back here in a mess and I will keep fixing you up and we will keep having this conversation. Is there an end to this?”

“I won’t come here then.” Natasha stated simply, eyes darting momentarily to the bathroom door. “I’ll go to medical, where I should be.”

“You hate it there.”

“You hate me here.”

Y/n sighed, her breath shaky. This was the longest they’d ever fought for, and fighting Natasha was mentally exhausting. She had an answer to everything.

“I don’t hate you here, I just wish you’d fucking listen to me for one goddamn second!” Natasha nodded, almost challenging her to speak.

“I am.”

“I didn’t want to say this, but you haven’t exactly given me much of a choice. It’s me or the job, Nat. You choose. And you know what? If you choose me, you still keep half your job! But if you choose the job, you don’t get to keep half of me.” The last part sounded stupid but Natasha knew what she meant. She only had half of Y/n right now. The half that slept in her bed and fixed her wounds. If she chose her, she’d get the other half she fell in love with back.

But she couldn’t, could she? Natasha looked down, not wanting to watch Y/n’s face respond. “I’m sorry…”

“Get out.” It was barely a whisper but Natasha heard it. “Get. Out.” Y/n didn’t want Natasha to see her cry but when their eyes met again, Y/n’s were flooded with tears. She didn’t care, how could she when the green ones staring back at her were so cold. Natasha didn’t say a word, only grabbing her sweatshirt and slipping out of the room. The faint jangle of her keys sounded as the door slammed shut and only then did Y/n allow her walls to come crumbling down.

She collapsed onto the bed, only this time hugging her own pillow close as she choked out her sobs. They echoed around the room and her gag reflex kicked in from how hard she was crying. But all she could see was Natasha’s emotionless face staring back at her, not a hint of remorse visible in her eyes.

Reaching to flick off the light, Y/n caught sight of something that made her cry harder. Her bedside table hadn’t been empty for two and a half years. A single picture frame now sat there. And it was in that moment that Y/n wished it had just stayed empty.

[romanoffsdarling]

Later Never Comes

Pairing: CEO!Silver-Fox!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your love for her knew no bounds, but there’s only so long you can hold on— only so many empty promises you can stand— before you finally have to let go. Before you finally realize that later may never become real.

Word Count: 4,779

Warnings: G!P Wanda, legal age gap, brief oral (R receiving), dirty (and slightly possessive) talk, mommy kink, slightly rough sex, neglect, and angst (with a bittersweet ending). 18+, Minors DNI.

Author’s Note: I know I promised a second part to Summertime Sadness and Time To Say (Goodbye), but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. I hope you can forgive me!

Great love always ends in tragedy.

That’s the saying, right? A stupid one if you had anything to say about it. What’s so great about love if it only ends in heartbreak? If you don’t end up with the person that makes your entire being thrum? If everything that had once been so colorful is suddenly black-and-white due to their absence?

Is the love great due to the story? To the emotions, the events, that occur throughout its long winded saga? Or is it great because it was doomed from the start? Because, even though it’d end one way, two people were still willing to fight the odds, to fight fate, even if they’d never end up winning.

You’re not sure, nor do you care, because there’s no way a love of that kind could be anything except terrible— except bone-chillingly agonizing in the way you’d have to figure out how to move on without it. Figure out how to be without the person that made everything make sense, that made you feel like the person you were always meant to be.

Even if it’s been years since you’ve seen her, years since you’ve felt her lips against yours, an elegantly lithe body pressed to your own, and the sweet scent of sandalwood and lavender mixed perfectly in your nose, you haven’t been able to figure that out. Haven’t been able to get her out of your system, no matter how much you may try.

How could you? When you’ve loved, and been loved by, Wanda Maximoff?

[Past]

“I’m just saying she’s been interested to meet you since she saw our group picture from Fiji.” Your best friend, Agatha, relayed, jovially leading you towards the small, yet upscale, café that Wanda Maximoff— CEO of Scarlet Entertainment— agreed to meet you. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, sweetie. Especially one that came about due to my own propensity to lose bets with that witch.”

Your brow furrows. “I’m just not sure what exactly this meeting is supposed to be about. I just graduated college, I barely have any experience under my belt.”

“But you have me as a mentor,” she rebukes, a small smirk on her lips. “And that’s all that you need to get into Wanda’s head.”

“Ah, yes.” You roll your eyes, amusement welling within your chest. “How could I forget about your age-old rivalry?”

“Don’t phrase it like that. Makes me sound old.” Agatha bumps her shoulder against yours, eyes narrowed.

“And mentor doesn’t?”

“Nope.” She pops the ‘p’. “That makes me sound wise.”

“And what does wisdom come from again?”

You’re just able to dodge the swat directed at your arm, a bright smile tugging your lips upward, as you finally enter the quaint café— the aromatic smell of coffee, a hint of cinnamon, and something slightly citrusy, hits you all at once. A combination that shouldn’t have worked as well it did.

Once you placed your order— a simple coffee with your usual additions— you turned back to Agatha with an expectant expression. “Anything I should know about this meetings, Ags?”

She shakes her head, tendrils of brown hair escaping the haphazard bun she had thrown them in. “You’re here.” Agatha hands you the drink the barista had just put beside you, a wane smile on her lips. “That’s the important part to achieve for any date.”

Your steps stutter, nearly causing you to trip into a nearby table. “W-What?” Widened eyes meet Agatha’s unaffected one, a certain level of calmness that you found irritating. “What do you mean date? I thought this was a meeting?”

Agatha waves her hand. “Lunch meeting, lunch date. Means the same thing in the end.” She shoulders her purse, clearly not planning on staying any longer than she has to. “You’ll be fine, Y/N. You’re a catch. Maximoff would have to be a bigger idiot than I think she already is if she lets you go.”

Before you’re able to respond, Agatha places a chaste kiss to your cheek, offers one last cheeky wink, and saunters her way out of the café, leaving you completely alone. You’re honestly tempted to just abandon ship and get out of dodge— you weren’t good on dates, let alone blind dates. Something your best friend is well aware of, and would definitely be getting in an earful about this later.

However, before you’re able to make a concrete decision on your exit strategy, a husky voice speaks up from behind you.

“Are you Y/N?”

The most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen stood in front of you when you turned around: long auburn hair, speckled with the beginning signs of gray, paired perfectly with the sharp emerald green of her gaze. An elegantly lithe body, encased in a form-fitting suit, tailored made to enhance every perfect curve, relaxed in a way that almost seemed arrogant— if it was for the confidence that exudes from her very being.

“Yes.” Your brain finally catches up with you, remembering the question she had asked. “Y/N.” You hold out your hand for her to shake. “Y/N L/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

A small smile catches full lips, a slender hand grasping your own in a firm shake. “Wanda Maximoff.” Green eyes trail down your body. “And, trust me, the pleasure is all mine.”

The months that followed the blind date went by in a blur. You could honestly say that you’ve never met anyone else like Wanda Maximoff— a woman that personified ice and fire. Watching her work— whether it be as you’re lounged on her large leather sectional, laptop balanced on her lap as slender fingers gently stroke your back, or she’s pacing back and forth with her phone pressed to her ear; voice dripping with barely concealed annoyance, underlined by a calm collectiveness that never failed to make you swoon— was an art form in itself, but being able to see the woman that appeared at the end of the day?

Where an icy facade of professionalism melts into warm smile and gentle eyes. Sharp words being replaced by sweet nothings and gentle humming.

In Wanda’s arms you’ve found a place you never even knew you were missing— home. You had a couple relationships in the past, but none of them made you feel the way Wanda does; all paling in comparison to the beautiful Sokovian.

The one thing you hadn’t expected upon beginning to date the older woman was how insatiable she was— not that you were complaining— but Wanda needed to have you as often as she could. Taking you the bedroom of your apartment, the various rooms in her penthouse, in her office within Scarlet Entertainment, hell even in the back of a limo on the way to an event. Wanda needed to have you and you needed to have her right back.

Another little thing you’ve learned about her? Or, you should say, not so little? The Sokovian sported an extra appendage that had quickly become your new best friend— not that you were going to tell Agatha that— who seemed to want you as much as Wanda did.

Which is how you found yourself where you are now— on your back, thighs clamped around Wanda’s head, as she thoroughly ate you out on the couch of her office.

“Yes.” You arch sharply, a sob being torn from your throat as Wanda’s tongue plunges even deeper into you. Your girlfriend hums happily at the sound, the vibrations sending a shockwave across your clit, and another wave of wetness gushes out of you— something that Wanda is all too happy to lap up. She had told you on more than one occasion, after she spent hours upon hours between your thighs, that you beat out even the finest of wines to her. “Please. I need you.”

With clear reluctance to leave, Wanda pulls back and easily settles on top of you. Lips and chin shining lewdly in the dim lighting of her office, darkened emerald eyes sparkling even brighter.

“You taste great, detka.” She lowers her head, offering her tongue for you to suck on. Giving you a taste of yourself, mixed intoxicatingly with her own natural one. “Could spend hours eating up your perfect pussy, but that’s not what you want, huh?” She jerks her hips, rubbing her cock against your wetness. “You want mommy to be inside you, right? Want her to stretch you out and make you scream?” Another roll of her hips causes you to arch, a breathless gasp leaving you, but Wanda doesn’t relent. “Answer me, detka. Be my good girl and I’ll give you what you crave. What do you want mommy to do?”

“Fuck me.” The cry is practically wrenched from your chest, a deep felt plea for her to just plunge into you and ruin you for anyone else. Not that she hasn’t been able to accomplish that already. “I want you to slam your cock into my pussy and make me yours, mommy. I want your cock to make my pussy its own, to shape me in its image.”

A deep, almost rumbling, snarl erupts from Wanda in response, her hips snapping forward and you’re finally filled; stretched out so fucking perfectly, an obscene slurp echoed across the room the moment Wanda’s hips met your own. She hadn’t made you cum with her mouth, but you had been so close, she had given you a mini orgasm just by entering— a feat that brings a smug smile to Wanda’s lips.

“You feel that, detka.” She takes your hand and brings it down to the slight bulge in your lower abdomen. “That’s my cock ruining you for anyone else. No one will ever be able to fill you the way I do, make you scream yourself hoarse.” Wanda snaps her hips forward after a shallow pull-back, giving out a satisfied hum at the feeling of your slick walls pressed around her. “Your pussy belongs to me, your pleasure belongs to me, and you belong to me.”

Wanda lowers her head, lips pressed firmly to your own, giving you even more of a taste of yourself than before, as her tongue practically fucks your mouth while her cock fucks your pussy. When she detaches her lips from yours, only a thin trail of saliva is left, before she’s far enough away for it to snap.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh permeates the air, an occasional grunt or moan intercepting it, and you’d be concerned about the noise level if Wanda hadn’t sent Peter, her assistant, home early— having planned to have you like this from the very moment she had invited you over.

“Just like that, mommy. Keep fucking me like that,” you babble, drunk on pleasure as Wanda kept driving her hips forward, one slender finger roughly rubbing your clit in time with each thrust. It’s of no surprise that you find your release quickly after, gushing over Wanda’s cock.

The tight contractions around her cock— as your second orgasm was much more powerful than your first— causes Wanda to groan, hips stuttering in their brutal pace. It’s clear that she was close, sweat slicked brow, causing strands of silver hair to cling to fair skin, but she obviously wanted you to come one last time— to be tossed over the edge with her.

With a shake breath, Wanda roughly brings you to the brink of your third orgasm, not even giving you time to fully get through the second. “One more, detka. You’ve got one more in you for mommy.” She dips her head, lips tenderly brushing across your forehead. “And when you come around mommy’s cock, I’m gonna fill you up like the good girl you are. Would you like that?”

You nod, practically whining. “Yes. Please.”

The older woman snarls once more, clearly affected by the look on your face, and, before you’re even aware of it, you’re crashing over the edge again— a cry of Wanda’s name passing over your lips as you spasm around her. Barely being able to catch Wanda’s own groan in response: “Yes.”

Jets of her cum paint your inner walls white, warming you up. It’s a feeling you don’t think you’ll ever get used to— or want to get used to, if you’re being honest.

Once she’s spent, Wanda gently lowers herself onto your still slightly spasming body, lips pressed softly against your cheek. “You did so good. So perfect for me. My beautiful girl.”

You happily nuzzle into Wanda’s neck, eyes drooping out of contented exhaustion. “I love you.”

You’re too out of it to feel Wanda stiffen in surprise, or to really understand what you had just whispered, but you are aware of Wanda’s arms tightening around you, her lips pressing more firmly against your skin, as she cuddles you closer to her.

And, as you begin to drift off completely, happy in Wanda’s arms, you faintly feel Wanda exhale across the shell of your ear, a shaky breath, uncharacteristic for the older woman, before her soft voice breaks through the silence: “I love you too. More than I ever thought I’d love anyone.”

[A Few Months Later…]

“How many do you want?”

It’s asked softly, one of Wanda’s hand gently running up-and-down your back in a soothing motion. Her lips pressed against the crown of your head, your face nuzzled against the crook of her neck, a place you don’t feel like leaving anytime soon.

“How many what?” You snuggle closer, delighted in the way her arms tighten instinctively. “I want a lot of things, Wands.”

Wanda huffs out a light chuckle. “Children, Y/N. How many children do you want?”

You stiffen in surprise at the question— Wanda hadn’t made it a secret that she didn’t plan on having kids. That she didn’t think she’d make a good mother due to her childhood and her busy lifestyle, but you also know that your girlfriend wouldn’t ask something unless she’s serious about the answer. Something you’ve figured out after all these months together. Regrettably, you pull your face away from the warm nest it had made so you’re able to look at her, and Wanda met your eyes calmly, sharp green softened in a way that’s only ever meant for you.

“What’s this about, Wanda?” You roll your lips, trying to process your next words carefully. “I thought you didn’t want kids?”

Emerald eyes flash warmly. “I didn’t want a lot of things, Y/N.” She easily tugs you back into her arms, lips pressed to your forehead. “But that was all before I met you.”

Touched by her words— and the clear sincerity within them— you decide to just bite the bullet, there wasn’t a point in delaying your answer. Especially if Wanda expected it.

“Two.” A gentle kiss is placed to her collarbone. “I want two boys. Twins.”

She breathes out another chuckle. “Twins, huh?” Maneuvering you both, you’re suddenly pressed against the mattress, Wanda hovering over you, smile still in place, with a familiar hardness nestled between your thighs. “That seems like something we’d have to get just right, correct?”

Even though it’s posed as question, you can tell that Wanda meant it rhetorically. That she already knew the answered you’d both settle on— an answer you always agreed upon.

Wiggling your hips, grinning mischievously at the sharp gasp that leaves Wanda’s lips at the added pressure, you throw your arms loosely around her neck.

“Yes.” You pull her closer, lips millimeters from her own. “I think it’s something we’re going to have practice quite a bit.”

Not needing any more prompting Wanda descends onto you with a ravenous hunger. One that you’re all too happy to match.

You can’t wait to experience your future if this is what’ll be waiting for you there.

The phone is cold against your overheated flesh— a concoction of anger and disappointment courses through you like lava.

“Wanda—” You pinch the bridge of your nose to stem the tide of anger. “This is the eighth time this week alone. What the hell am I supposed to tell the caterers? Again.”

A soft sigh resounds through the speaker. “Just tell them that I won’t be able to make it, Y/N.” The response, in a clearly distracted tone, does little to ease your growing ire. “I know you’ll be able to handle it.”

“I don’t want to handle it, Wanda. This is our wedding, I’d like for you to also have a say in it.” From the time on the clock, you didn’t have much time left to leave the penthouse. Not if you wanted to get to the appointment on time. “I’ve been planning this entire thing by myself, I want your help. I want to hear your opinions. I want you.”

To care goes without words, but you’re certain it rings out just the same. You had been so happy when Wanda had suddenly proposed, seemingly out of the blue. Though wasn’t that the point? Taking you to a rooftop restaurant, which she had rented out, and offered you the rare chance of getting to taste her impeccable cooking; all dishes she had learned from her mother back in Sokovia. It had been a night you’d forever cherish, memories forever ingrained in your heart: the way the stars made the green in Wanda’s eyes sparkle more, the subtle wind allowing you to be surrounded by her comforting scent, the bright smile she had given you when she dropped down to one knee, and the happy laugh that had escaped her when you said yes. It had been a fairytale, everything you had ever wanted.

Until you realized your Disney fairytale was beginning to turn into Brothers Grimm.

“You have me, Y/N.” Wanda lets out another sigh. “Look, I can’t keep talking the investors for the meeting just arrived and I need to get prepared. I promise that I’ll go over everything you discuss later, okay? I love you.”

“Wanda—”

You’re only met with the sound of the dial tone, barely getting the chance to reply before being hung up on, and the familiar aching sense of silence that follows— a hollow sound that distantly reminded you of what your heart has become.

It hadn’t always been like this. The penthouse, upon your first visit, had been cold, lifeless in a way that seemed almost inhuman, but slowly it had livened up— been filled with a sense of warmth and peace. Of love. It had been a place you could go to when you just needed an escape from the rest of the world, when you needed to be surrounded by things that remind you of the woman you love.

Now it’s suffocating in a way that you never wished for it to be.

You’re aware that Wanda is a busy woman— had been aware of it before your first date occurred— but she had always at least tried to be there. Always left you feeling like you were at least on the list of things that mattered, you didn’t necessarily need to be at the direct top; not when she had so many things to content with already. But, you’ve felt like nothing more than an afterthought lately.

Gentle kisses in the morning turned to brief parting words as she made her way quickly out the door.

Soft smiles, and inside jokes, turned to barely there quirks of full lips, and stretched out silences.

The warmth of her hold, the safety you felt from her touch, turned to an icy chill as she left you to the cold air— you don’t even remember when the last time was that you had been together properly. Since you had woken up in her arms.

You didn’t need a lot, you didn’t need all of her time, but you wanted to feel like you still mattered— that everything you have isn’t just another thing Wanda had marked off on her checklist of things to do before she turns 55.

Checking the time, a small curse leaves your lips once you realize that you’re going to be late, and, with one final glance towards the empty penthouse, you make your way out the door— hoping that the growing chill you feel isn’t indicative of a love grown cold.

Silence had become your greatest friend in the weeks that followed. The one thing that you’ve grown to count on as Wanda’s schedule only seemed to get busier and busier— hell, your relationship with her personal assistant had grown to the point that he’s been calling you by your first name now. Instead of the usually nervous ma’am or Ms. L/N.

Wedding appointments had come and gone, all of them spent alone, with Wanda barely perusing the choices that had been made before crashing out of sheer exhaustion. Conversation had grown stilted due to her own growing ire at you consistent worry— although she labeled it as nagging. That she’s been running her business for over thirty years, and she’s been doing fine.

Even now, on New Years Eve, as the clock moved ever closer to midnight, you were completely alone— expansive shadows, that seemed darker somehow, stretched out towards you like ghastly fingers, trying to tear whatever semblance of comfort you’ve found away. You’re not sure what you had been expecting, not even sure if you’d truly believed that Wanda would show herself, but you can’t lie and say that you hadn’t hoped.

Hoped that today, of all days, would be different. That you wouldn’t feel like a stranger, an intruder, within your own life, within your own home.

Fanciful musings and hopes of a lovestruck fool.

The small chirp of an incoming message pulls you from your reverie, a bright smile appearing instantly at the sight of who it’s from, before withering away once you read it: Sorry, I won’t be able to make it home tonight. Going to the Hamptons to meet some new business partners. I promise I’ll make it up to you later. I love you.

You don’t bother to send a message back— what could you possibly say? Yet another promise had been thrown to the wayside by the older woman. Even if it was just a cursory, and unspoken, one being as simple as not leaving your fiancé alone on New Years. Or waiting until the last minute to actually say anything about it.

A soft sigh escapes your lips, an acidic twang settling over your tongue, as bitterness seeps into your bloodstream, poisoning your heart and soul. You knew what you needed to do, have known since this had become your new normal, but hadn’t had the strength, or the courage, to make it a reality. Until now.

Until the heartbreak, the suffering, has become as close of a friend to you as the oppressive silence.

And, as the door to the penthouse gently closed behind you, never to be opened by your hand again, you feel a sense of bone-deep sorrow settle over you. For everything that could have been, for what you had hoped for, and all that you now had to live without. You could just step back inside, hide or destroy the letter, and Wanda would never know. She’d never find out how close you had been to giving up, but you couldn’t find the strength to do so. Could no longer gather up the power to keep fighting for something that’s been lost long ago— no matter how much your heart screams at it not being true.

Tears gather in your eyes as you take another step away from the door, away from the place you’ve lived in for the last two years, and your heart breaks with every step. But, it breaks even more at the knowledge that you were leaving your true home behind too— that doing this would destroy everything you have with Wanda, never to be salvaged. The penthouse may be expensive, and it may be beautiful, but it’d never be home to you like Wanda; it’d never offer you the same feeling of protection like her arms did.

You’ve been shut out of your home for months now, and being left out in the cold has finally frozen your heart enough for you to be able to do this. No matter how much more it was going to hurt once it thaws once more.

Shouldering your duffel bag, the only thing you’ve allowed yourself to bring, you step into the private elevator and press the button for the lobby. Hands tightening around the strap of the bag, trying to ignore the way your ring finger no longer felt the familiar press of metal against it as you do so.

It was time to look forward, to finally make your own laters, the things you had been pushing off, become an actuality.

Even if you wanted nothing more than to have never needed to say goodbye to Wanda Maximoff in the first place.

Losing the ring was one thing, but losing the love of your life?

It’s a wound you’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to recover from.

[Present]

“Mom?” The small voice catches your attention, your eyes focused back in to see bright eyes, twin grins being sported between the pair. “Can we still get hot chocolate?”

Billy and Tommy had come into your life when you needed them to most— a blessing that you’d definitely been searching for after everything imploded with Wanda. And, even if how they were conceived didn’t lend itself to a happy tale, you’d never change a thing. They were your twin miracles. Your beautiful baby boys— even if they were eight years old now.

“I thought you decided to get caramel popcorn instead?” You poke Billy’s side gently, delighted in the giggle the actions caused. “That’s what you both told me at the theater.”

Tommy’s eyes widened dramatically, in full puppy-dog mode. “But that was before you took us past our favorite store.” He points to the small café only a few feet away— one that you frequented with the twins when you could find the time. A place that you hadn’t even realized you’d be leading them towards. “Can we please get hot chocolate.”

The twins chime in unison: “Please.”

You chance a glance towards the café— deliberating your options— but you know that you’re going to cave. After all, the reason you had gone to the movies was to celebrate their stellar report cards. What harm could some extra hot chocolate do?

So, with a faux long-suffering sigh, you relent. “I suppose.”

“Yes!” Twin cheers are your immediate response, brightening the smile on your lips, and you soon find yourself in the quaint café— one that held so many memories for you. Phantoms of your past the whispered in your ear as you placed your order and directed your boys to their usual spot.

Only half-listening to their chatter about the movie you had just seen— some superhero film— you simply bask in the simplicity their joy brought you. Observing their small faces light up, little hands waving around as they discussed various points, and your heart swells with more love than you ever thought you could feel.

“—What did you think, mom?”

Billy’s sudden question tears you from your musings, his widened eyes, alight with excitement, giving you the impression that he really wanted to hear what you thought.

“About the movie?” They both nod. “I thought it was good, bug.”

Tommy pouts. “Yeah, but what did you like most about it? Did you have a favorite scene?”

“I—”

“Order for Y/N.”

Saved by the bell, you think. A wave of relief crashing over you. “You two stay put.” Standing, you ruffle their hair. “I’ll be right back with our drinks.”

At the prospect of their hot chocolate they don’t seem to mind that you didn’t answer their question— though you’d certain Tommy would ask you again. Though you’d have more than enough time to google some things about the movie before then. Small miracles.

Stopping at the counter, you take the tray with the drinks with a smile and a nod in greeting to the server you’ve grown quite fond of.

“Y/N?”

Breath catching in your throat at the husky voice sounding out behind you, the cadence and tone so familiar that your heart still burns from it. Hesitating only slightly, you turn and meet the shimmering emerald eyes you haven’t seen in a little over eight years. Her face still as beautiful as you’d last seen it, if a bit older now.

“Wanda.”

[wpdarlingpan]

Snow Falls… In Love

Part 2 ❄️

Yandere Coriolanus Snow x Innocent!Reader

Female Prounouns

Word Count: 2k

Summary: an innocent girl from district 12 is Coriolanus Snow’s tribute. She wins the capitals heart through her love and kind eyes. Now he never wants to let her go, she was his tribute. At first it was admiration, but not it’s grown into something bigger. Love.

Warnings: obsessive behavior, mentions of murder, normal hunger games warnings, self-deprecation

Click which part you’d like to read below! ❄️

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (Finale)

The kiss they shared was monumental for Coriolanus. It was as if every puzzle piece fell into place for him. His confidence overruled the idea of Y/N getting murdered in the games the next day.

But that’s all she could think about.

Y/N adored Corio, after all he’d done to keep her alive and favored it was impossible not to. It was difficult for her to process that fact she found someone this special but she would soon die in the games.

“Corio, I-“ she spoke before cutting herself off, figuring out the best way to say it. “I don’t want you to think I have a chance in that arena. Hope is a dangerous thing.”

Coriolanus was silent, staring into her eyes intently as he moved to grab her chin with a firm grip.

“You are going to get out of that arena. The other mentors? Their focus is on making their opponents strong. They will look past simple solutions in favor of brute strength. You will get out of this because of you are your strengths, agility and wits.” He never looked away, not even for a second. He didn’t even let go until he thought he got his point across.

Y/N hesitated but nodded as he goes to hand her a compact case before stopping.

“What is this?” She questions at his hesitation. Not because it’s his mother’s but because he was afraid she open it or something before he could explain. He would never put her in harms way.

“Do not open it until absolutely necessary. Do not smell it or even touch it util that point. Even just a little of it could kill you.”

Y/N understood that he wanted to ensure she’d have a weapon within moments of the timer starting. She nodded as he continued to talk about a hiding space.

“Thank you Corio, thank you for everything you’ve done to keep me alive.” Tears gathered in her eyes, silently falling as he wiped them.

“This isn’t goodbye, I will see you when you win the games. I will see you everyday when I wake up and at the end when I fall asleep.“ Coriolanus leaned in and kissed her softly as he wiped her tears with a plain handkerchief before he retreated back to his house. Not home because he truly believed his home was with you.

~*~

Coriolanus watched the games reluctantly, the blood spilled seem to engulf the screen. He stared at the screen holding Y/N.

The second the countdown stopped they were off. Y/N turned around in fear to see a spear being thrown towards her as she attempted to duck out of the way, but it still managed to cut her arm causing her to whimper in pain.

Yet It didn’t stop her as she ran into the vents, it the hiding place snow suggested but good enough. She was even able to lock it before anyone could notice.

The battle outside was loud. The clangs of metal crashing echoes through the arena. The sounds of screams and grunts as someone’s life vanished in mere moments.

Meanwhile Coriolanus was internally on edge. It wouldn’t show through his poised posture or the indifferent look on his face but the way his heart was beating faster.

There were no cameras in the vents much to Lucky Flickerman’s despair and promises to add one next year.

By sundown there was nearly half of the tributes left.

It was late at night and dark in the arena, most of the tributes were sleeping or staying in their hiding spots since it was dangerous to go out in the dark.

That’s when Sejanus snuck in. He saw the way they hung up his friend from the districts. The torture he went through while he was living lavishly in the capital with his daddy’s money.

To which he used to give his friend a proper District 2 send off.

Unluckily or luckily for Coriolanus it was his responsibility to get him out.

~*~

Y/N peaked out the vent when she heard talking. A voice sounded familiar but with how far away they were it was hard to tell for sure.

Corio couldn’t pass up this opportunity so as his friend gathered himself, he ran up to the vent.

Y/N was on edge until she saw the face of Coriolanus Snow.

The tears instantly began running as she went to along it but be stopped her.

“I have to get out of here. I’m not supposed to be here. But I had to see you, I couldn’t leave without hearing your voice in person. I’m sorry I can’t get you out.” He reached through the vent the best he could and they held hands. “There’s significantly less tributes left from earlier. Your chances are bettering Y/N, now it’s time for you to believe in yourself.”

“I will be okay, I will see you later Corio.” Y/N spoke as her voice wavered. Would she? She didn’t know. But she couldn’t bring herself to fully find comfort in his words.”

“See you later my love.” Corio spoke without truly thinking of the implication of the pet name but couldn’t find himself to be bothered as him and Sejanus ran out of the arena, no other tributes even hearing the sound of the gates closing for the last time until the winner was announced.

~*~

Y/N had begun to sneak out of the vent at night to stretch her legs. Risky but necessary after spending days sitting down in the vent, her breathing silent as tributes would walk by, not sparing even a glance at the vent.

That was until one did notice.

Y/N got out of the vent on the third night, pushing the door open quietly as she stepped out on alert.

What she didn’t know though was there was someone else in that part of the arena. They were crouched in a corner, blending into the shadows the best they could at the orders of Coral.

Tanner got up slowly, reaching to grab his weapon, before running at Y/N.

She heard the rocks cracking beneath his feet before she turned to the noise. His sickle was raised high, a battle cry falling from his mouth as he swung right at Y/N. She dodged it.

That was until she lost her balance and slipped down the slanted rocks.

~*~

Coriolanus was the only one left at the viewing auditorium. He watched closely as Y/N was crawling out of the vents.

He looked around the frames of the arena, checking peoples positions to ensure the safety of his tribute.

That’s when he saw Tanner.

Corio watched in apprehension as tanner ran at her. He was hitting buttons on the keypad urgently, looking for anything to help her after the whole faulty drones thing.

But what else could be done?

~*~

Y/N felt her head slam onto a rock, leaving only a concussion hopefully due to the lack of blood.

Tanner made his way down, almost making a game of cat and mouse out of the chase as he slowly lurked closer.

Y/N pushed her self up even with the disagreement of her head as she went to run before feeling a slight weight in her pocket. Reaching into her pocket as she kept an eye on him, she got ahold of the little ‘gift’ from Corio.

The second Tanner got closer Y/N open the container and blew the entire contents into his face before throwing the container to the center to keep her hands free in case it doesn’t work.

Nothing happened… at first.

Then he collapsed as blood drained from his nose.

Coriolanus watched as Tanner’s feed cut with a look of admiration at Y/N’s ability to defend herself. Because that’s what he saw it as, self-defense.

Y/N saw it as murder. She knew what was going to happen. It was between the two of them. They wouldn’t make friendship bracelets and stop fighting. This was life or death, she had to make her choice. The feeling of the poison in her hand made her decision for her as it brought a familiar blonde to the front of her mind.

But it didn’t make it hurt any less as she watched the light fade from his eyes before shutting them. A quiet promise of hoping he had a better time in the next life before shutting herself in the vent.

With the Rebels attacks increasing, Volumnia Gaul decided the game was over. There was no chance for a Victor. They all would die.

This was not something Coriolanus took into account.

He ran as fast as he could before stopping at the entrance of the doctors building.

Coriolanus had to make a plan… and fast.

~*~

Y/N and the others heard the commotion of something landing in the arena, followed by the sound of crunching underneath it. It was dangerous but they all inched forward as Y/N got out of the vent, watching from afar. Of course she was curious but it was the capital. There was no influence she could have but only hope for the odds and they never seemed to be in her favor.

Wovey was the first to get close

“Is it done? Can we go home?” Tears built in the little girls eyes.

The item began cracking before a sea of snake engulfed the girl like a wave upon an ocean pulling her under the tides.

All of the tributes screamed as they attempted to run for safety. There was just too many snakes, the bites would slow them down before their inevitable death due to the amount of venom flooding their system.

It was down to Coral and Y/N.

Y/N had stayed up by the vent and watched as Coral attempted to reach her but was stopped by the snakes wrapping around her arms and legs.

Then there was one.

Y/N didn’t move, maybe if she didn’t run they wouldn’t be alarmed and kill her? Maybe they would go right past. But that was hope, and she would be hypocritical to have it.

The snakes circled up her arms and legs as Y/N urged herself to calm down. This was her last few moments and she only waited for the inevitable pain of stinging bites resonating throughout her body.

It never happened.

They just slithered around her, coiling themselves as if to comfort.

~*~

Everyone was confused on why the snakes attacked everyone else but Y/N. It didn’t make sense until Coriolanus spoke up

“She calms them! You saw how empathetic she was in the interview” he looked around to see the nodding heads as he hid a smirk “They won’t hurt her. Let her out!”

Tigress yelled to let her out as well. She saw what Y/N was doing to her cousin and she couldn’t imagine what would happen if he lost her.

This brought the crowd to a chant.

Then finally, the games were over.

“The Victor of the 10th annual Hunger Games is… Y/N L/N!” Lucky announced the winner as the room cheered. Corio only talked to Tigress and Sejanus before rushing out of the room to find his love.

After all, there was no proof he cheated.

The compact was shattered upon impact with the snake container.

The white handkerchief had been deemed a tributes.

There was no evidence Coriolanus Snow and Y/N L/N cheated in the games. It was only their secret.

They say love is a weakness.

Especially in the Hunger Games.

But it made the two of them stronger. It was the two of them against the world from the start.

Snow fell in love, but what would it take to keep her with him?

The world may never know

Until the last and final part of their love story.

~*~

Note: Hey Everyone! I hope I did you guys justice with how much you liked the first part. I appreciate all the love and it greatly inspired me to write and finish this story. I know there wasn’t much fluff in this chapter but this plot had to be told.

I will be publishing a part 3 ❄️

Taglist: @diannana @olivetree420

[evilminji]

Can You "Accidental Baby Acquisition" Yourself?

Like? Say you have a You... who is NOT You, obviously, but A You in the Multiversal sense... and their childhood suuuuuucked. Just? Truely awful for reasons beyond their control.

Such as the veil NOT being so easily peirced in their reality and humanity a bit more... Reactive(tm) to ectoplasm, due to the lower concentration of it in the Everything of their Universe. Which makes their parents research? Unattainable. Dangerous.

Ultimately fatal to their elder sister.

And then later, them.

Not that they were even the loving if wildly eccentric parents most of the other You's KNOW and have. Due to that very say research and their long-term exposure to their own samples. The Reactivity.

"Pit Rage" as some circles call it.

They weren't themselves. Stopped BEING themselves long before their children ever came into the picture. If they could think clearly, they would BEG for someone to save their children. From them. From their house of horrors. From what they've become.

And well? You exsist outside of Time. In the Zone. Maybe you have a wide and crazy adventure with this grizzled, worn, badass of a You. Figure he's pretty cool. Ask if he needs anything. And he laughs this broken glass in your chest sort of sound and says:

"Not unless you could give me a real childhood."

Like? Dude. Buddy. My buddy dude. Gonna have to explain that one. You can't just drop that and walk away. We Crazy Action Bros Adventure(tm) bonded. You can tell me. And reluctantly... he kinda does.

And... Look. You exsist outside of TIME. Your mentor IS Time. You can TOTALLY do that.

This.

But like? You realize... there wouldn't be TWO of you... right? If you take mini-Bamf out of the timestream at point A... you, big guy, stop existing at every instance of point B and onwards.

Yeah. Yeah, he gets that. Fully consents. His life was full of bad decisions and dramatic bullshit. He wants a real childhood. His sister back. Wants them BOTH out of that house and somewhere safe. If he could do it himself, he would. Call it his fucked up way of healing. Finally facing his trauma. It's haunted him long enough.

.....well then. Now You've got a baby and a fussy toddler. They have superpowers because of course they do. That house was OSHAs waking nightmares and deepest fever dreams. Jazzypants is hungy. And baby You did a stinky.

This is Fine(tm).

You're a King! You can TOTALLY handle this! Teeeeeemporarily. Since it's not like they can stay HERE. The Zone is literally uninhabitable long term for the living. So time to fire up the ol Brain Meats. Gremlin Ideas formulating. Loading... Loading... Loooooooading. Got it!

You kidnapped them.

Brilliant! FRIGHTY! Where's the Trenchcoat Booze Slu-...SLUHeuth. Sleuth! Totally what I was planning to say, Starshines! Don't curse. Cursing Bad~☆

The Detective Of Loose Morales in The Trenchcoat, who's Soul I Own, Frighty! Where's he at?? *Distant muffled answer* Close enough! Time to give him a heart attack! And throw a fight! Can you toss me a nightmare medallion? I need to instill mortal terror! Thaaaanks, Frighty! Also can you change diapers? *affirmative noises* Ancients, you're the best.

Smash cut to John Constantine. Busting up some cult, as you do. When? Oh fuck. The leaders heading for the store room! Not today, fucker! They fight. They struggle. It's Manly and Gritty and dramatic! When?

A terrible CRASH. Some artifact must have activated. What... have you DONE? *dramatic musical sting* swirling green and DEATH radiates out from a pin prick of nothing. A black hole in reverse. The cold oblivion of space, given bones to claw its way free. Eyes that sear in colors too technicolor and hypersaturated to be mortal. Green. Green! GREEN.

Ice and stars and death and a terrible, unspeakable Crown.

Two... two little sprogs. Tiny bits of nothing in a monsters hand. KIDS, wrapped up in something they never should of even had to nightmare about. John's eyes catch on red, red hair. A tiny little headband with butterflies on it. Pressed so close to dark locks, as she wraps herself around her little bits of a sibling.

The other ones dressed up in stars.

Someone SOLD their fuckin KIDS. Or this damned this STOLE them. It doesn't matter. Not now, not to John. Because this bastard isn't keeping them. He slides like breathing into the waves of luck and chance, odds and fate. Is on his feet and drawing attention. Whatever it takes, he's leaving here with those kids.

He laughs and it's not a kind one.

"Oi! A word if you will?"

@hypewinter @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @ailithnight

[strawberry-halla]

now im probably the many few people who actually agreed with the way bioware handled varric’s death and here’s why:

varric has been one of the most prominent dragon age characters since dragon age 2’s release. he’s basically the mascot (well, i think solas has stolen this role now but i digress), the character everybody loves! varric has been there since almost the beginning, over 10 years of our favorite dwarf.

this is the thing that hangs people up on his death in veilguard. why did they do it? why did it happen? what was bioware thinking? well i’m not expert but i think i have a pretty good idea.

varric has always been the friend who supports you no matter what, the one to pull you away from the heavy decisions the player makes to make you laugh or try to see the bright side. he made the player feel good and your character feel good, no matter who you’re playing as.

we saw this lovable dwarf go through so much tragedy in every media possible. he was dealt a bad hand at every corner but the good parts were the friends he made along the way. even if they did something bad in the end (anders and solas), varric still sees the person they were underneath everything.

so yes i think his choice to talk to solas, only to end up dying, was how it was going to end for him. varric cares so much about his friends and eventually, one of them was going to fuck that up. he got lucky so many times, escaping death at every turn. if varric would have went home to kirkwall as viscount for the rest of his days, i don’t think that would be a good end for him.

it’s a pretty thought to have, but it’s just NOT varric. he wanted to help the inquisition and he wanted to help save/stop solas because he knew him. they were friends. good ones. so of course it makes sense varric is the one to go after him.

now i think it would have been worse if varric was dead from the start of veilguard (well, he is but we don’t know that yet) because it definitely doesn’t ease the player into the reality of it. so making him a figment of solas’s blood magic on rook was a very clever way to ease them and us into accepting his death. i cannot think of a better way if i tried.

varric’s relationship with rook was so important. he was basically a mentor, a father figure for some. his role in veilguard is not a waste. rook as a character needed their mentor to ease them into this leadership. i think it would have been incredibly jarring to just have rook suddenly know how to lead the veilguard without having someone to talk to about their struggles. solas would have worked fine, but his role as the antagonist for most of the game would have made a really unrealistic connection.

and yes. i know varric’s memory is being manipulated by solas’s hand, but solas himself says that varric would never say anything to rook that they already didn’t know from him. varric’s guidance was still at play here, not solas. he just kept up the illusion varric was still alive to make sure rook would succeed. it’s incredibly shitty of him to goad this at rook, but he was never entirely wrong that rook had varric to help them. they did have varric, even when he wasn’t there. varric’s lessons and memory alone were enough.

and when rook and the player finally come to this realization in the regret prison, it just hits you all at once. i cried for about two hours once the scene ended. i had to pause my game, get up, and walk away. it was like losing a best friend. and i know how silly it sounds to mourn the loss of a video game character, but varric was more than that to many. to me. i just needed a bit to recover from the realization.

varric made a choice. one that got him killed. but he knew that it was the right one to make. solas regrets what he did to varric. he even says if he could, he wouldn’t have done it. it was an accident. a horrible accident that doesn’t justify what solas did. there is no glory in needless death. but this isn’t about solas.

varric in all his goodness as a person FORGAVE solas for this. he knew solas was still good. deep, deep down. that solas ‘wants to be the hero’ and would tear himself apart to make things better. i don’t know about you but it’s incredibly insane that someone forgives their murderer. especially varric! who said in inquisition: ‘nobody forgives someone for killing you!’ like it came full circle.

varric’s death was necessary for us and for solas’s story. i know it sounds incredibly silly to us that one character’s redemption is another’s downfall, but isn’t that how things work sometimes? you don’t have to like it or agree with it, but that’s just one thing i find so fascinating about dragon age’s characters and how they interact with one another throughout the series.

there’s an incredible post by @/corseque that explains the parallels between varric and solas that really ties this all together. please go read it if you haven’t!

i’m so so glad we had so many good memories of varric and his legacy will forever live on in-universe and amongst fans. now’s the time to make new ones with our new favorites, shall we? and we can still honor varric’s memory by writing stories, of course.

[iridescent-flowers]

Con La Brisa (Leviathan x GN!Reader)

Leviathan x Reader

Tags: Romantic fluff, takes place on the beach and in water

Word Count: 2,849

Summary:

With the new skill you recently mastered, you plan to surprise Levi with a date underwater.

[✨Likes, Comments & Reblogs are supper appreciated!✨]

Notes: This work is also available on Ao3, feel free to leave kudos, comment or read there if you prefer Ao3 more ❤️

I forgot to add this in the original Ao3 post, but I was really inspired by the song from underwater scene in wakanda forever. So, I'd play the song on loop every time I was writing this. Feel free to give it a listen before, after, or during your reading session.

------------------------

It’s been a while since you and Levi last saw each other for reasons that he understood as well. For one, you were up in The Human World, tending to your regular life while you were on a break from the student exchange program. And for another, there were certain duties you had to fulfill as Solomon’s most promising apprentice. In other words, Solomon was keeping you very busy with the lessons he provided as your mentor. Admittedly, it made Leviathan feel a bit upset, but he would always feel better upon receiving your calls and messages. It made him even happier when you would do co-op with him, just the two of you.

This time around, you were reaching out for the most unexpected reason paired with a quite off-putting request:

“Levi! Let's go to the beach this Saturday! Solomon gave me the day off and I thought it'd be lovely to do some swimming!”

Leviathan was speechless… no… he was frozen. This is the first time you asked to do something so extroverted. It's quite difficult to think of any proper response.

“I don't know about going to the beach, MC…”

“Oh, I know you might be worried about other people in the place, but I promise there's a private part of the beach we're headed to. I figured I'd take you there because I also have a surprise to show you!” The smiley face at the end of the text made Levi think twice about rejecting the idea. Maybe it's overthinking, but he has this feeling that you might not take no for an answer.

He lets out a sigh, essentially out of awe at how spontaneous you are. Though admittedly, it made his heart race thinking about what would happen on that day. He imagined the scenarios painted by shoujo mangas, especially considering it would just be the two of you going.

His thoughts ran wildly with all the writing conventions he got from every manga he’s read. So much so that he wondered if he needed to practice playing volleyball, or maybe some tough talk when you run into a random group of troublesome strangers… What if you planned to ask him to help you put on some sunblock lotion? What about the conversation you might have as you watch the sunset?

Apart from that, you didn’t tell him to bring anything other than himself… did he need to bring anything? for him? for you? for both of you? Or—

“Stop this! It’s not like it’s gonna turn out that way anyways… even if we are dating…”

Even if going to the beach was the most typical kind of date for couples, he couldn’t believe you were inviting an otaku like him to go with you. If anything, he figured you’d bring Beel and Belphie, Asmo, or Mammon, who definitely wouldn’t refuse some downtime at the beach.

The same kind of thoughts ended up partially clouding his mind for the entire week. Luckily, not so much that it ended up becoming a problem for his duties as a RAD student and student council member. However, it did end up making him lose several rounds in the RPG game he was currently obsessing over.

When the day arrived, Levi had to make sure that the day would be perfect and ended up with a lot of stuff to bring after all. In response, Asmo and Mammon had to talk him out of bringing too many beach items. In the end, Levi just brought some sunscreen that Asmodeus shoved onto him, sunglasses, some swimwear, and himself.

“Are you sure I don’t need any of the stuff I was gonna bring?”

“Levi, if MC is the one that asked you out as a surprise, it should probably mean that  they’re  the one with an itinerary.” The 5th eldest of the brothers reasoned, speaking as if this was based on common sense.

“I-I guess you’re right about that…” Asmo was the love expert after all, despite being slightly uneasy and nervous, he adhered to his advice.

“If you’re gonna get cold feet over going to the beach, I oughta take your place and go with MC to the beach.” Mammon hit him in a way that was aggressively playful as if he was telling him to turn back and switch places with him. Levi raised an eyebrow, slightly annoyed

“T-they asked  me ! Besides…”

We’re the ones dating, they’re in love with me.  He stopped himself before he could say his thoughts aloud, it was a close call.

“N-nevermind, I’m just going because it’s MC! You should never refuse MC!”

Right as he says that, a portal emerges and he sees MC by the entrance. The timing almost made Mammon and Levi squeal.

“Hey, MC! If ya planned on dropping by, at least give us a heads up! I think I lost 1000 years in my lifespan thanks to you!”

“MC!” Asmo squeals and runs over to give you the biggest bear hug.

“Hello guys! Just coming in to pick up Levi. How did I do with the portal spell?” You turned over to Levi with a glimmer of excitement in your eye. His eyes widened realizing how close your face was to his.

“U-uh…!” He took a step back and coughed, rose pink dusting his cheeks.

“It was actually really good! Solomon’s mentoring skills are definitely not something to mess with.” You giggled and took him by the hand before turning to the two brothers who were seeing him out.

“Well… off we go! It was nice seeing you all!”

“Take care ya damn lovebirds!”

“Have fun you two!”

Before Leviathan could say anything else, you both already made it across the portal and into the beach.

Levi was expecting some intense heat rays. To his surprise, the heat wave never came. Instead, he was greeted with a healthy mix of blue hues and fluffy clouds.

“Huh…” His eyes landed on the ground, feeling the warmth of white sand on his flip-flops. It was a small pet peeve, but he was going to ignore it for now.

He looked a bit farther and that this was a part of the beach that was relatively distant from where people would often stay.

“Not bad right? Let's head over to the docks.” Levi nodded, letting MC take his hand and walk him to the nearby docks. It was old, the varnish that protected the wood faded from the sunlight. The nails that kept them in place creaked loudly with each step, no matter how gentle they were. Regardless, it seems that the dock was sturdy enough despite its age.

The waves were splashing gently that day, telling you everything you needed to know about how today was going to turn out to be.

You giggled to yourself as you looked at Levi and back to the crystal blue water.

When you reached the end of the dock, you sat down, cross-legged, by the edge. Then, you motioned Levi to sit next to you.

Awkwardly, he obliges, letting his feet hang as he sits down.

“I begged Solomon to teach me this one spell… just watch.” You made eye contact with Levi who was looking at you expectantly. You gave him a small smile, trying to contain your excitement. Then, you let your eyes close as your focus was redirected to the objective you had in mind.

“Spirit of the wind, let my lungs respire and my body steel under your power.”

A blue light glows intensely within you as you take a deep breath in, and fades as you breathe out. The unexplainable sensation of the spell you cast radiates from your chest to your fingertips.

You open your eyes, all your senses returning to reality.

Levi blinks.

“Okay, cool trick and all… but what's the spell for?”

You raise an eyebrow towards your lover before speaking.

“You mean you  don't  want to experience a day underwater?”

“Huh?!”

“Suit yourself, fish man.” You shrug before launching yourself into the water below you.

“What?! MC, Wait!” His mind was too startled to think about hesitations. Immediately, he jumped in after you. His adrenaline spiked as he looked around to find you, preparing for the worst possible outcome.

He had a delayed realization that you were trying out a spell that could let you breathe underwater, even as you reach the depths of the ocean… at least… if it was executed properly.

He can only vaguely recall how the spell goes as he didn’t need it in his demon form. Because of that, he was too worried over whether or not the spell even worked, stressing over why you acted so rationally.

His worst fears were realized when he saw your limp body halfway through making its way to the ocean floor.

He cursed under his breath multiple times in a state of panic.

With all the strength he could muster, he swam his way to you and caught you in his arms.

Your mouth was slightly open, motioning to the idea that you might’ve already lost breath. He shook your body in an attempt to wake you. But it’s no use.

“MC… fuck… please not like this… it’s too soon… why the hell did you have to go and be so irr—mnn…!”

Suddenly, he feels the slight warmth and softness of lips pressing against his, and a pair of hands snaking their way to his cheeks as they try to pull him in deeper.

Suddenly, his worst fears were unrealized.

You were the first to pull away, giggling playfully as you did.

“A-are you serious right now!? You could have  died! ”

“Levi, oh ye of little faith… Do you really think humans are that fragile?” You caressed his cheek, in an attempt to reassure him a little, but he only felt more heated up about the situation, and admittedly, a little flustered from the kiss you shared.

“Yes! Well… n-no… not you… I should’ve known that but— but you should’ve known to test the waters first before jumping into the water like that! Imagine if the spell didn’t work!”

“Levi, this is the spell I wanted to show you. I begged Solomon for literal weeks to teach me and help me master it. You had no idea how many times I had to grin and bear having to go to the beach with him and have him prepare picnic food.”

“I mean… look~! My hard work definitely paid off, and now I can venture with you whenever you want!”

Before he could even argue further, he began to recall the times he would gush over how much he loved the water. Admittedly, they were pretty rare instances, but the fact you even remembered it at all was heartwarming.

The soft-hearted thoughts came to a full stop when he realized…

“Wait, that means you’ve already done this with Solomon… more than once?!”

‘Curse you Solomon, you lucky bastard.’  He thought to himself.

“I mean… he’s the only guy that could teach me the spell in such a short time. I would’ve taught myself but I was a bit overwhelmed with the textbook Satan lent me.

“Why didn’t you ask Satan, then? Not that I want you spending time alone with him either…” Levi asked, mumbling the last bit so you wouldn’t hear it.

“I feel like he’s going to hold it over my head if I do. Like make me do his chores when I get back to the Devildom or help him with an Anti-Lucifer league scheme.” You shuddered at the flashbacks you had, recalling how it ended up with you being strung up by Lucifer at some point.

“Now come on! Let’s go see the ocean! Or—at least— whatever we can see here— or we can just float around, that’s fun too!” You giggled to yourself as you moved around freely, feeling the coolness of the ocean hugging you, and moving against the motions you made. It really did feel like you were floating off the ground.

Quickly, you took Levi’s hand in yours, pulling him as you made your way to the first coral reefs you saw under the waters.

Time passed, allowing you to see all kinds of colorful fishes and reefs. You believed it was luck that allowed you to see such sights, especially how it’s become a rare gem in today’s time. It was as if the universe willed this particular date for the two of you. The thought alone made you feel a bit giddy inside.

Pulling yourself from your thoughts, you turned to Levi and asked him: “So…how was today for you?”

Levi shook his head and smiled, it was as if he was trying to find the best reaction to give you. But at the end of the day, he felt dumbfounded and even more in love with you than he was before… even if he didn’t know it was possible.

He turned to you, fully awestruck. “You’re too amazing. Please don’t make me say more praise unless you want this little otaku to die of embarrassment.”

You giggled, raising your hand like you were taking an oath.

“You have my word.” You replied to him, “consider that as a thank you from me.”

Levi’s eyebrows shifted slightly in confusion “huh… but I didn't really do anything... I just followed your lead today ngl.”

“I know. But it's because of you that I got to fulfill my childhood dream to swim around in the ocean like this. It’s ten times better because I enjoyed it with you.”

He pulled away from your gaze for a moment, you were literally killing him with affection right now. A giggle escaped his lips in response, probably one of the cutest you’ve heard out of him today.

Suddenly, Levi let out a cough and his face shifted into a more serious expression.

“Can we d-do what we did a while ago? Minus m-me freaking out about you almost dying.”

“Which I didn’t,” You said matter-of-factly. Levi didn’t want to argue, nor could he if it was you. He just laughed in response.

“Which you didn’t.” He simply said. In response, you pretended to weigh your options before swimming as fast as you could.

“You’ll have to catch me first!”

Levi couldn’t help but scoff, this was a game of child’s play, and you knew it. So he gave you a little head start. He doesn’t know where this surge of pride came from, he just knew that he wanted to play into your set-to-fail plans.

He wasn’t always great with sports or running, but he was  definitely  a good swimmer when he wanted to be.

Levi felt his heart trying hard to escape from his chest. The moment he knew the distance was far enough, he made his way towards you. Levi could even feel his heart leaping bounds as you got closer.

But then… He realized, only at the last minute, that he had no clue what to do once he caught you.

Under a millisecond, his mind descended into panic mode. Right before he could think to stop, he had already collided with your body. From there, everything happened in slow motion.

There was something about the water that made how you both tumbled together embarrassing and beautiful at the same time. Perhaps, Levi thought, it was because the two of you seemed to circle around each other forming something close to the motion of a yin-yang symbol.

You were about to burst out in laughter but stopped yourself as you saw that ultra-rare expression on your lover's face, the one he’d hide because he was too shy to show how happy you made him.

The fondness in his eyes shone brightly under the dimness of the ocean. Your heart was beating crazily now, telling you to shower him with as much affection as you could in every kiss.

You obliged, feeling the world around you spin slowly as you did. It was something right out of a magical girl manga, but more. In Levi’s mind, he believed nothing could top the real thing, not even fiction.

“MC… I think I want… to kiss a little bit more…” Even in the depths of the sea, you could tell how much Levi was blushing as he sounded out his wants. The best thing about Levi was how he always expressed his desires shyly. He does his best to gather courage when he feels that he truly needs it. It was his cutest quality and because of that, you smiled.

“You can always have more because you already have all of me.”

His eyes narrowed, trying to hide his giddiness with a cringed expression. You shook your head, you could read him so well.

The two of you kiss again, feeling time and space disappear for the moment. In that moment alone, you were both one with the ocean and one with each other. Feeling what it is to love and be loved, your hearts soared infinitely, as though they were with the breeze.

[aeskairo]

I mean... I am a person without a lot of attachments. I don't have a lot of trust in people, and I generally view people as simply everybody on their own path.

So then when I read other people's interpretations of gk, I'm often confused because I don't really understand where they're coming from.

For example, the idea of loyalty seem to be really important to a lot of other fans. Ogata is interpreted by almost everyone as a untrustworthy, with no loyalties.

But I don't understand why anyone in this story needs to have loyalties or why loyalty is even a good thing.

Everybody has completely different motivations and wants.

Tsurumi wants to split off a piece of the military, and use it to regain territory in Russia Where his wife and child are buried.

Hijikata says that he is looking to revive the Republic of Ezo, but actually he doesn't have the resources, or the time to do that so really he's looking for one last great battle and to die under that banner rather than to set up and new independent political entity.

Shiraishi has no real goals and just likes his friends and would love to get some money out of it. He later takes on Boutarou's goal.

Ogata has no real concrete achievable goal and is looking for an abstract sense of worth.

Sugimoto also has no real concrete goal and is using the gold hunt to avoid confronting the fact that he really has no place to return to. He says he has to get the money before he returns to ume, but this is just a prerequisite he set for himself, to delay returning. Ume isn't waiting for him, has no idea that he's out trying to get the money for her, and doesn't even know if he's alive. Despite all of the importance that he places on returning to her, he is a non-entity in her life, in the same way that Ogata is a non-entity in his father's life. The similarities and differences between Ogata and sugimoto is best left for another post.

Asirpa...... is a 12-year-old girl and is still trying to make sense of the world.

Many of the soldiers don't have any goals of their their own other than following orders or impressing their commander. People like Inenaga, ushiyama don't really have any aspirations for the gold. They just seem to be along for the ride since they have map tattoos.

My point is....

These are all clearly people with individual and completely different goals, to which the gold is just a means to an end. So I don't understand why loyalty is considered important, in fact I don't understand why it's a thing at all.

So given that ..... I don't understand why Ogata is considered a disloyal betrayer....

When I read comments by other readers, it really feels like there's an expectation that these groups be a found family of sorts. A place of trust and loyalty where people support and mentor each other and it makes no sense to me.

Like that's something you expect from the military. Members of the military are supposed to be brothers in against a common enemy led by a father figure and it is explicitly pointed out that this is not the case.

People bully each other, sometimes severely. The father figure is self-interested and the only sees his men as pawns. There are shifting loyalties and factions with their own goals in the same unit. The military is not a family substitute. Gold hunt groups are not a family substitute. Even family do not present the kind of loyal loving support that people seem to expect.

So I just..... I straight up have no understanding of why Ogata is considered to be a betrayer, because I don't understand how loyalty is a thing here. I mean to me, the very concept of loyalty in this story seems to be a lie used to manipulate people seeking identity and belonging, and have them be willing to die for the group.

When I look around on forums and discussions it seems like most people do not share this interpretation. People interpret media and events is through the lens of their own experiences. And I actually keep wondering if I'm missing something huge. Like if other people interpret loyalty in a totally different more meaningful way, what are their experiences that support this belief?

Just Curious

TLDR: this is not a story about found family as much as you want it to be. Instead it's about each person finding a place for themselves....not everyone is looking for a family.

Edit: I guess this is sort of meta. The reason I have this interpretation because I have a long history of working for corporations, and despite the found family culture that they try to create and all the team building exercises, people are constantly gunning for each other, trying to get people fired, taking credit for other people's work, making people look bad in front of management to elevate their own status, trying to jump ship and go to other companies in the same industry with proprietary knowledge... so my take on this whole story is that..."this is simply how people operate."

Like I've been on team building exercises with the company where everybody an outdooring trip and bonds over canoeing, and then immediately the next day people get back to trying to get each other fired.

That's just how people are. People form connections over all sorts of things, but that doesn't mean that they aren't out for themselves or that the connection will always exist, or that the connection is deep or that the person is loyal to you.

[inchidentally]

I think there's something so poetic in the fact that, before being in F1, Oscar was a Lando fan (as we all saw on twitter) and we know (through his mom) that he thought being Lando's teammate in his 1st year would be the best thing for him since no one would expect him to beat someone so good and now, our little Osc will officially be Lando's longest teammate to date 💜

I just think that is beautiful and warms my heart, and I like to think fanboy Oscar is a little crazy about this as well.

anonnnnn I had no idea it would literally be this very weekend for that milestone ;__;

side note you reminded me I didn't add to the Oscar pre-F1 Lando fanboy compilation about him telling Nicole he would feel a lot less pressure being Lando's teammate bc "everyone knows how good he is"

and like, that moment made me think of when she saw his heartrate going through the roof on his monitor after she had the bicycle accent and how he doesn't express his love and affection in conventional ways, he shows it in private intimate ways that you have to get to know him and learn.

which leads on to him dreading replacing the beloved, Aussie icon Daniel and...

both of Lando's previous teammates being these PR slick gregarious outgoing extroverted types and not only was Oscar knowing his introduction to F1 was off the back of the Alpine drama he was also going to be replacing Daniel/a lineage of big beloved personalities as Lando's teammates and like ?? for someone who is lowkey and values his privacy and doesn't relish the spotlight that's just the w o r s t. Lola @twinkodium had followed Oscar before F1 and describes how awful it was to go through as an Oscar fan <3

and then when we all started exploring the Prema videos and realizing oh! actually Oscar's super sassy and sarcastic and even pretty mouthy with his teammates - and sure he dreaded PR filming days then too but he was SO different to that early McLaren content (and even current content tbh). and Lando was already being put in this "so you're the older mentor now" which was not comfortable and it took him some time to figure Oscar out and trust and like him! the development of his relationship with Oscar has been so rewarding in how gently and gradually it's happened ?? some ppl still want the PR bromance content but I feel like the whole charm of landoscar is that they both rejected developing a PR aspect of their relationship from the start and everything we see of them is authentic. sometimes they're feeling the challenge or interview and they're giggling and happy and funny. other times they're not feeling it so they give each other these teasing looks and just get through it. other times they're absolutely not feeling it and oh.

!!!

what's wild to me is that Lando has finally decided that he's not going to perform just because everyone expects him to be cute and bubbly and full of jokes all the time !! and he said that he's learned from Oscar “keeping calm and being yourself, it’s good to be reminded of that. I think he's been very, very good at dealing with pressure, better than I feel like I remember I was when I started." I often see ppl complaining that Lando is "serious" and "not as happy" just because he's a)grown up from a teenager to a seasoned professional adult and b)they've chosen to never see those other sides of him even when he's exhibited them all along - they were just never something he showed very often (considering people only seemed to react to him being fun and lighthearted, no wonder).

but alongside him figuring Oscar out that first year he started realizing oh, this guy has serious respect for me and doesn't expect anything of me. and I can ask for things and demand certain things and not be "on" or happy all the time and THAT is how Oscar shows he cares about me! he's not only showing me deference and respect, he also smiles fondly at every weird little shade of me I let out! (this picture will always be to me the 'oh! that's who you are! there you are!' moment bc godddd the complexity in his eyes and in his expression that seems to freeze time in the celebrations and he focuses solely on Oscar jesussssss)

so in getting a much more authentic, subtle insight into a teammate dynamic between Lando and Oscar, there also feels like a much more authentic and subtle insight into Lando as a person. the more serious, sometimes broody, quiet, shy and anxious sides of Lando stopped only happening on late night streams with Max and maybe the occasional post race where he couldn't switch it on for cameras, all started showing up at all of his media and PR that season - and he's stayed ever since.

bc for guys like Daniel and Carlos, learning PR is about controlling PR and the invasiveness that being in the spotlight brings. it's sort of a disarming attack being the best sort of defense method. which is fine for people who have the energy and won't be sapped by having to keep that up almost non-stop. or like Carlos have a family support system who will get ahead of things as much as possible (and even there, they still can't predict everything they media will do). but Lando has never been capable of that! he was a shy, self-confessedly pretty reclusive guy before Carlos and F1. he hits energy dips hard. he's incapable of lying (or lying convincingly) even to save his own skin. so he borrows those guys' energy when they're together (this includes George and Alex too) to cope and still does to this day.

but !! all of his own natural qualities generate the wildest extremes of PR adoration and persecution for him. being unable to lie and not having a skill for PR filter has created some of his highest and lowest experiences with fans and the media.

and side note it's super uncomfortable to see people literally complain about him showing more complexity and maturity alongside his usual fun, bubbly side and to have those same fans - who claim to know and adore him - totally bypass that he's a mental health advocate and say that he's not "himself" or his "old self" because he's not performing enough and daring to grow and develop each year and not restricting his on camera presence solely to fun and jokes and laughter. almost as uncomfortable as said people advocating for Lando's mental health and anti-bullying and then going on hate campaigns and flooding comment sections of major media accts absolutely trashing Oscar, trying to start rumors about Oscar's family and cultivating insane theories to twist Lando smiling, laughing and being relaxed with Oscar as suffering and hating and barely coping with having Oscar as a teammate. (and the delusions that Lando wouldn't clash with Carlos or Daniel if they were his teammate now that McLaren is at the front of the pack ????? is utterly utterly insane slfgsajlfgsalfgsafgsal. a shiver passes over me when ppl wish for that bc considering those awful carland0 'breakup' gifs from like 2021? imagine the horror of then watching it slowly die in front of our very eyes. like. the total failure to see the reality of these drivers' real personalities and on track dynamics bc of rpf is insane. I'm literally casually expecting Lando and Oscar to have battles and hugely awkward moments next season even tho it's been shockingly civil and mature this season. bc that's how drivers are in those situations! and oops it's actually rly good that Lando and Oscar incorporated that professional boundary as they've developed their relationship - bc off track besties suddenly battling each other for championship wins? have we learned nothing of how awful that is no matter how much the besties say it won't be ??)

and like, this is probably why I went from starting this blog just to follow fun F1 memes and the popular rpf ships to actually starting to use it bc of landoscar. the Silverstone hug was such a satisfying 'oh!' turning point that's even more gratifying and complex the longer they're teammates. and not in an rpf way! I go stupid and write fic etc but truly most of the things I think we love about this ship aren't crossing over into fantasy land or pretending they're eeeeeeveryting to each other or pretending that they loooove each other more than their girlfriends/girlfriend or that they're "better friends" with each other than other friends etc etc. even the fan fiction is so damn good bc the majority is based on the subtle dynamics we've witnessed between them rather than just projecting fantasy onto them. I mean we all love having ships where the guys are playing into it and share tons of content with us to play with sure. but we also know there's a blurred boundary between PR and reality that we'll never rly see for sure. whereas Lando and Oscar's relationship is a layered thing with no PR gloss to it that can just be plopped into a fic concept and see where they end up, yknow? it always ends up compelling.

and then Oscar having preferred to run the most painful gauntlet just to sign with McLaren, then his further commitment and loyalty showing itself at the first opportunity, Lando recommitting to McLaren and including Oscar in that, Lando calling them the strongest partnership on the grid, them both today saying how they both set aside ego and achieve balance through teamwork.

that is the kind of stuff that is unique and has a genuine future and strength to it. it's exhausting and often painful to watch two guys who got super chummy and friendly first and then deal with both wanting to be the winner at absolutely everything only to realize - as so many do - that it's messy and uncomfortable as hell. for instance I learned early on that it always shakes out fine with Charles and Carlos, but the fireworks that make their dynamic so exciting and fun is also why the battles are so intense and explosive. they were made so thoroughly perfectly for each other as friends but therefore in so many ways the opposite as teammates. I'm gutted at losing all the content after this season but I'm fascinated to see over the coming years how things will settle bc that pressure will finally be off.

but we're watching that whole thing consciously being done in reverse with Lando and Oscar and, considering the challenges they've faced, the professional and personal dynamic and relationship they've cultivated together (esp with the open door policy between their garages) is fucking working so far. the fans are screaming and losing their shit while those two are calmly shaking hands, shaking the whole thing off when it's done and already caught beaming and smiling at each other before they notice the camera is on for the post race. Lando is the guy who speaks with words, Oscar with actions. Lando wears his emotions on his sleeve and hates being disingenuous, Oscar would rather let the media and public get him wrong than expose himself too much. Lando has a whole life and separate company, Oscar has a whole life with Lily. they never made their off track time available to fans and don't have to feel pressure to perform there either. even Monza, they were bonded in misery and traveled home together and showed up for press the next race with the same objectives.

tee el dee are, I feel like this milestone says a lot about the potential for them as teammates - and quite frankly if the rest of us have to block out the swarms of fans who can't follow the example of maturity and reason set by Lando and Oscar - and we end up with a small but sane space then I'm all for that !

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hi darling!~ (I'll immediately stop calling you that if you don't like it/don't feel comfortable lol) Lately your girlies been obsessing over the song 'Older' by Isabel LaRosa that's been going BADSHIT popular on tiktok so I thought I'd spill some thoughts~

Teacher!Vil X Yandere(ish)!Student!Yuu

Summary : Yuu who grew up with a bad father and gained heavy daddy issues gets attached to her teacher after he starts giving her the fatherly love and care she never got, always being nice and checking up on her. at first it's a simple silly crush on her teacher but after time it blooms into an obsession where she starts lusting after him and craves constant validation from him. In her eyes he's the perfect guy, he's older and has more experience, he could never treat her wrong. even though he may be colder from time to time she believes he has a soft spot for her. Poor Yuu when the teacher who she fell so madly inlove with doesn't return her feelings and begins distancing himself from her.... Or will he?..

(Your ending <3)

Surprise me sweetheart ♡

-Prev. 🥀🦋 / Now 🎋🪭

I really like that song, might become my newest obsession... 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Yandere Teacher Vil Schoenheit x Obsessed Student Reader 

Vil definitely has that aura of an unbiased but caring mentor much like Crewel. He’s confident and quaint, praising you in any capacity thrills most who receive it. Granted it’s sprinkled with underlying insults and a general lack of faith. But for someone like you, who can barely get your own father to even look at you it means so much more:

So of course you’ll obsess over him 

Putting him on a pedestal you’re willing to do anything for 

Study and pass his class

Tell on all the naughty potatoes in class

Even framing the professor he’s wanted gone since the beginning

“Well done.”

“R-really?”

“Yes, I’m quite pleased you’ve proven to be more helpful than the other useless potatoes.”

“T-thank you M-Mister Vil!”

He doesn’t stop you or even act like he doesn’t reciprocate

A few light touches

A kiss or two

A nibble of the ear

Your friends warn you  when they realize the love of your life is the degrading teacher of etiquette 

“This isn’t a good idea…(Y/n) he’s like much older than you.”

“So? That just means he has experience!”

“He’s thinking about retirement!”

“Early retirement!”

“Nooo!”

Nothing really stops you from your newfound love 

That is until he crashes the illusion himself 

“Oh~Roi du Poison, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for the misguided doe?”

“Please, they’re just a tool I’m sharpening. A potato I’ve decided is worth polishing…for the time being.”

It destroys you

What meaning of life is there if he doesn’t even care about yours

You stop showing up to school

You won’t leave your room

“Where is (L/n)?”

“Pft wouldn’t you like to know!”

“We’re not telling you. You don’t deserve to even speak to them.”

“Fine if that’s how it’s going to be, I’ll give your regards to them.”

“What?!” “Wait!” 

Unbeknownst to you Vil is very much in love with you 

But what did you expect?!

That he’d admit to actually being just as obsessed if not more so than you

He figured the best way to keep you close enough was by taking advantage of your emotional flaw

And while he wasn’t wrong, 

he realized the way it’s been going is all too risky

Nosy obstacles friends of yours, suspicious coworkers, gossiping potatoes

It’s just too risky so he’ll promptly resign putting time and energy into his former hobby

Taking the world by storm he’ll disappear

Giving you the so-called space you want so badly

But he’ll be watching

Watching as you mend yourself together only to fall apart again with every new tragedy

Your grades suspiciously slip

Your house is going to be foreclosed

Your father disappears one evening becoming a missing person’s case

And finally, your dear poor friends suddenly die

Catching some sickness after investigating something they refused to tell you about in  the forest

It’s there, where you’ve graduated and are at your lowest once again that he makes his move

“It’s been a while, (L/n).”

He’ll skew the events that day claiming the doe was someone else or that it was all a cover

And like that, he’ll slither back into your heart with his leash fully keeping you within his grasp

“For all that trouble, (Y/n) you’re irrevocably mine.”

[respectthepetty]

I'm traveling again, so I'm coming to you from a 7" Chromebook (that hasn't updated in three years) for the sixth episode of The Trainee, so basically I'm Bon Jovi and living on a prayer since the screen resolution on this thing doesn't allow me to see if Jane is wearing blue or black, but I'm going to have faith that my newly cemented Blue Boy is committed to his color now that Ryan is very interested in getting to know the real him.

Because both of them wore pink moving those big blue jugs of water (unless that's orange on Ryan then I have no idea. Darn you, Chromebook!)

No, that's pink, right? Right?! Ryan wore pink several times as he was figuring out he was falling in love, right? RIGHT?!

Well, at least I know for sure Mee was being her normal Pink Person self with Judy still in black.

She never gets to see her boyfriend (who I think is a Brown Boy), which makes her sad.

But she still retains her color.

Even as she goes through a crisis of the heart, she has her little fuzzy pink pen.

And her pink headband as she massages the woman who is inducing her queer awakening.

Which caused her to sniff(?) Red Rascal Pie.

Who I'm convinced has something going on with Pah since she was wearing one of his Yellow/Orange Oddity colors this episode.

Wait, what was the point of this? I feel like Jo who is lost in that pink couch and who I still don't know what his actual job is!

Oh wait, that's what this was about - PINK! Like that pink top on the cookies Ryan gave to Jane with a green cookie in it for Ryan and a pink cookie for love!

Ryan had on his green text shirt but was surrounded by blue because he finally realized he is quickly falling in love with Jane!

Which is why the rain scene with its light of understanding had so many tiny touches of pink in it from the cookies to the food stand equipment.

Because Ryan is just a Green Guy falling in love with his mentor.

WHO IS A BLUE BOY!

(That's blue, right? Jane is wearing blue when he gives Ryan the brownies, right? RIGHT?! God, I cannot live, laugh, and love under these Chromebook conditions)

[forggywrites]

I been thinking about make this request,basically platonic headcanons of Miguel with a gn reader that is very young(14-15) and have a symbiote, reader meets miguel due to him as spiderman rescues reader from some bastards that were experimenting with reader for the perfect symbiosis they had, the reader is very skinny and easily scared and the symbiote is very protective over reader, miguel is also very protective over reader and theach them how to control their power,basically miguel being a mentor/father figure for the reader Who admires him and want to protect the multiverse like him(like a sidekick).

If this is so Long youre Free to ignore

I LOVE this idea!

PLATONIC Miguel x GN teen reader w/venom symbiote.

I’m trying to make this as general as possible so anyone can read it, but sorry if I make any mistakes.

CW: use of y/n, Miguel might be slightly ooc, talk of human experimentation, kidnapping, abuse, violence, medical settings, venom needs his own warning.

—————————

It was cold.

So fucking cold.

The only color on your skin was dark blotches from struggling against your captors.

You were unsure of how long you’ve been locked in this dank room.

You had barely eaten or drank anything since ending up here, so you were multiple pounds lighter than you normally were.

Your muscles had lost a significant amount of definition from only moving when they moved you.

You didn’t know who they were or what they wanted, but you did gather they didn’t target you specifically.

The experiments were painful.

No matter how much you screamed or cried they never stopped.

After one of the first experiments you started hearing a voice.

The voice was deep and grainy, it told you that it was known as Venom and it came from space.

”These people took me as well… I can help you escape.”

You had ignored the voice, telling yourself it was just the trauma and isolation.

Until a particularly painful test.

Your entire body felt like it was burning, your screams were deafening.

Suddenly the restraints that held you down snapped, and you felt something ooze all over your body.

You were unable to control your actions. The lab was destroyed and your captors were all dead. Heads had been ripped off and digested by the thing controlling your body.

You watched as your much taller body escaped from the hellhole you had been kept in.

As soon as you got out the black goo dissipated, leaving your much smaller, frail body in its wake.

”You’re welcome” the voice rasped.

Your legs started to move, you ran as far and fast as you could, tears streamed down your face as you were finally free.

Before you knew it, you had ended up in a crowded city. You were unaware your tattered clothes were covered in blood.

Your tired feet tracked down the sidewalk, many avoided you, uncaring of your beaten and bloody form.

”Hey, kid-“ a hand landed on your shoulder.

Venom did not like that.

Suddenly your body was taken over once again, wreaking havoc on anything and everything.

People screamed as your monstrous form throws a tantrum.

Then you hear a thwip and your once again muscular arm gets pulled.

A man in a dark blue and red suit starts to face off with you.

His attacks were deliberate and calculated, quickly taking your exhausted form down.

You feel your head smash against the concrete and loose consciousness once more

—————————

There you were, in another lonely room. Trapped yet again.

But this time it was warmer, you were lying in a comfortable bed with tubes and wires running from your body to various machines.

The high pitched beeping was annoying you, so off came the wires as you tried to stop the noise.

But it only got worse.

A high pitched scream came out of the machine next to you, your body felt like it was on fire once again. You covered your ears as you screamed in pain.

With the noise a group of doctors and the man from before rushed into the room, attempting to reattach the monitors and calm you down.

Your arm reached out, wrapped in the familiar black goo, and shattered the machine. Stopping the noise and actions of the oddly dressed people in the room.

Venom’s goo retreated back into you, soaking back into your skin.

Everyone in the room was frozen. Not knowing what to do or how to respond to the outburst.

”Where am I?” You rasped out, your throat was dry and scratchy from dehydration and screaming.

One of the people left the room and quickly returned with a bottle of water. You gulped it down in no time, panting from the lack of oxygen.

”You’re in a secure location.” The man from before piped up, he was still wearing the odd mask and outfit.

The doctors and nurses attempted to restore what you had ripped out, but you flinched as a hand touched you.

They stopped again, not wanting more destruction.

”Please let them help you, you’ve been injured.” The man says.

You looked at the tall man in front of you.

”Why am I here?” You question him.

”You attempted to destroy the city.” He grunts

”No I didn’t! It was that thing those “scientists” gave me!” You shout, trying to defend yourself.

“I AM NOT A THING, CHILD. I AM VENOM. AND I HELPED YOU!” Venom screamed, though only you could hear him.

“What thing, and what scientists?” The tall man inquired.

”The black gooey thing, Venom. It appeared after one of the experiments the guys who took me did…” you trailed off, struggling to explain exactly what had happened to you.

The man stands for a moment, thinking. “Were you kidnapped?” He asked.

”I- I don’t really remember…” you look down, uncomfortable with all the eyes on you.

The tall man sighs and approaches you slowly, his mask suddenly dissipated before he started talking.

”I’m Miguel, what’s your name?” He had a small smile on his face, trying not to intimidate you more than he already has.

”it’s Y/n.”

“Well Y/n, I want to help you. Can you tell me what happened?”

—————————

After a long explanation Miguel told you that he needed to work some things out, so he left you under close watch by the nurses.

While he was gone you were given a small meal consisting of a sandwich, some carrots, and a cup of chocolate pudding. The doctors didn’t want you to eat too much as to not cause your malnourished body any harm, but you were still hungry.

Until you got to the chocolate pudding.

”That is amazing, I love it.” Venom says.

”it’s chocolate pudding.” You respond.

”I need more. I don’t feel as hungry anymore.”

—————————

When Miguel returned there was a pile of empty chocolate pudding cups on the bedside table and you were asking for more.

A nurse was trying to reason with you. ”Why don’t I get you some more carrots? You shouldn’t be eating so much sugar-“

”I need chocolate, that’s what he wants.” You argued.

”Hey kid. What do you mean by “it’s what he wants”?” Miguel questions you.

”Venom. He said chocolate makes him less hungry, and I was hoping if I kept eating it he’d finally shut up.” You avoided making eye contact with the tall male.

”Interesting… I did a little research and it seems that you’ve become a host for some sort of extra terrestrial being.”

“Well duh, Venom told me that already.” You give Miguel a deadpan look.

”It would have been nice to know that…” Miguel sighs. “We can start looking into removing the…”

”Symbiote”

”Right, Symbiote. We can look into removing the symbiote if you’d like.”

Suddenly the black goo emerges once again, taking over your face.

”I AM NOT GOING ANYWHERE YOU SPIDER SHIT!” Venom roars and then sinks back into your skin. Leaving you back to normal.

…

“I don’t think he wants to leave…”

”Well that was kind of obvious.” Miguel sighs.

—————————

It had been a few days since your arrival at the “secure location”, which after enough bugging of Miguel, you found out was the spider society. A place where spider folk like him from hundreds of different universes came together to protect the multiverse.

You had started trusting Miguel, and he the same with you. It was odd to others to see such a cold man being so caring and protective of a child who had “tried to kill him”.

He wasn’t the biggest fan of Venom, but when he realized you had a certain knack with the alien he stopped trying to convince you to separate from him.

Soon enough you started to train with Venom, Miguel helping you along the way. Miguel taught you hand to hand combat, self defense, and so much more.

Once Miguel believed you were ready, you started to go on missions with him. You met many other Spider folk and even made some good friends along the way.

Miguel knew that Venom needed phenylethylamine (or PEA for short) to survive. And since the only places you could get that was from brains or chocolate, he made sure there was always a large stock of chocolate around for you and venom, at least until he could develop something to give you the PEA you needed in a different way.

Miguel was glad that he had gone out on patrol that day, knowing that if he didn’t, he might not have met the kid who changed his life for the better.

—————————

Thanks for reading y’all! This was WAY longer than I was expecting, but hey, I got into it. I might make some separate or more headcanons with this reader/scenario.

(Also I got my first dose of testosterone done this morning, so your boy is finally on T!!!)

[coryoskywalker]

History (Young! Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

Description: Maybe you should’ve taken the risk. Perhaps things would’ve been different….

You and Coriolanus have been friends since the age of six. There was a moment between you two that she couldn’t forget. It was after the war when Y/n spotted young Coriolanus walking around the Capitol, presumably searching for food. Being the kind soul she was, Y/n took a piece of bread from her basket and offered it to him. Despite Coriolanus's initial stubbornness, he eventually accepted the bread, forever thankful.

From that moment, both Coriolanus and Y/n knew they would become great friends, or perhaps something more. It wasn't until they became adults, in their last year at the academy, that Coriolanus faced a crucial day. Winning the plinth prize was his only chance to save his family from starvation and secure a worry-free university education.

Y/n, aware of Coriolanus's home situation, always told him to come to her if he needed anything. However, he, driven by guilt and a high ego, consistently refused her help. When the day of the plinth prize announcement arrived, Dr. Gaul changed the rules, making each of the 24 students a mentor and allocating them to a tribute.

Y/n, the saint she is, panicked when she got the young girl named Wovey, knowing the girl didn’t stand a chance, breaking her heart. It wasn’t until Coriolanus softly grasped her hand and reassured her that everything would be fine. As time passed, Coriolanus still didn’t have a tribute. He knew High Bottom purposely gave him a girl from District 12, Lucygray, to secure his downfall. An interesting tribute, Y/n admitted, especially the moment the girl started singing and swearing on live television.

Y/n looked at Coriolanus as the scene played out. He had a stern look, and what she assumed was admiration, a look she had never seen him have—at least not directed towards her. From that moment, Y/n knew Lucygray would be the downfall of her and that Coriolanus could have been.

———————————————————————————

“Coriolanus do you love her? Do you love lucygray?” Y/n whispered to him. It was mid way during the hunger games.

Coriolanus looked guiltily at Y/n, unable to meet her gaze. "I... I have feelings for her," he muttered faintly, without even looking at her. Y/n had noticed Coriolanus's unusual behavior — his inability to sleep, his loss of appetite, and his lack of social interaction. She couldn't figure out what had changed, but now, she knows the answer. Coriolanus felt an unexpected affection toward LucyGray. He was deeply ashamed of it, but he couldn't deny it. He looked at Y/n painfully, yet with determination.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice breaking with emotion. "I don't know when it started... I have no idea how to explain it. All I know is this: I love Lucy, and I want to win the Games for her." Y/n was stunned. She had known that Coriolanus felt something for the District 12 tribute, but she didn't expect him to put his feelings into words so soon. It was as if he had forgotten about her completely, as if he no longer cared about their shared time together. Her heart ached with pain.

"Y/n..." He looked stared at you. "Lucy... my Lucy... deserves happiness. She deserves to know what love is. She deserves a shot at a future. And I will give it to her. But that doesn't mean I haven't felt things for you. It's just... You... you and me... it's not as simple."

“I understand,” was all you replied. He had always been honest about his feelings, but it was not the answer you were expecting. You were hurt to find you had been reduced to ‘too complicated’ when you thought of him as the perfect complement. But you knew you could never be that simple, with all your duties and expectations. As much as it pained you, you could understand why he had chosen another girl. He would never have to worry about her, to question her motives or her honesty. She would be loyal and good, with no strings attached.

“Is it easier with her?” You questioned him. You were confused and doubtful. How could being an outsider from the Capitol be easy? You refused to believe him.

“Yes,” he was honest with you. No reason to hide the truth. “She’s... simpler than you. Easier to understand. She’s honest and good and pure. But our path in the Games is not that simple. And you... You’re complicated too. I’m aware of our status. I know I’m bound by duty while you’re… free in comparison.” He spoke pushing a piece of fallen hair.

Y/n stepped back, keeping a short distance between herself and Coriolanus as her heart shattered to pieces. She couldn't believe the man she loved... the man she had spent years thinking also felt the same way for her had betrayed her like this. She was lost for words and the only thing which came out of her was an uneasy breath and tears flowing down her angelic face.

"So everything was a lie, Coriolanus?" Y/n whispered, her voice shaky and broken. "Everything we admitted to each other throughout the years was a humorous joke to you?".

Coriolanus stood there, strong and proud even though the words he was speaking were breaking her heart. He said without shame, without hesitation, "Yes."

Seeing the heartbreak on her face, he softened his tone and spoke as gently as he could despite the situation. "I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry. I do care for you... it's just..."

He searched for words, and then stopped. His jaw clenched... there was nothing he could say. So he just stood there, trying really hard not to look away as her tears poured.

Y/n felt her heart break into pieces when she heard Coriolanus speak those words. She had no idea that her feelings for him were not reciprocated all this time. Coriolanus had been honest with her, but at what cost? She felt betrayed and hurt beyond measure, and the only thing she could do was let out a painful cry. Y/n could not believe that her and Coriolanus's relationship was now over. She felt like a piece of her heart was missing and she didn't know how she would ever recover from this heartache.

———————————————————————————

As y/n lay curled up on the forest floor, she took a deep breath, taking in the tranquil atmosphere. Coriolanus's arm was wrapped around her, his breath gentle and slow against her cheek. They had found refuge from their busy schedule under this old tree, and for now, nothing else mattered to them but each other. The day's worries melted away, the stress of work and deadlines no more than a distant memory.

"What do you see in your future?" Coriolanus asked casually, brushing her hair away from her face as he looked down at her.

"Huh? Oh...my future..." y/n mused, blinking slowly. She thought for a moment, her mind wandering back to the dreams and ambitions she held when she was younger. But something changed as she grew older, and she started to feel as if those fantasies were becoming increasingly unrealistic, to the point where she no longer believed them possible. "I'm not sure anymore."

"Why not?" Coriolanus pressed, shifting so her head was now nestled on his lap. The gentle rustling of the leaves in the trees above seemed to drown out their conversation, providing them with a sense of seclusion.

"I used to dream about becoming a scientist. Or becoming a journalist. But after a while, I began to realize that the odds of that happening were next to zero. So, I settled with less..." y/n trailed off, feeling her voice waver slightly.

Coriolanus reached up to stroke her cheek, the sound of his own voice now soft and subdued. "Maybe you're not giving yourself enough credit, y/n. You're smart and capable; you can do anything you set your mind to."

"Maybe..." y/n mumbled, leaning into Coriolanus's touch. But her uncertainty remained, her voice a whisper as she spoke. Even her best friend, the boy who had supported her throughout all her life's ups and downs, believed in her more than she believed in herself.

Coriolanus seemed to notice a hint of sadness in y/n's voice and his gaze met hers, his expression one of concern. Y/n tried to hide it, but was it really that easy for people to see through her defenses?

Coriolanus studied y/n closely, his hand moving up to her cheek and gently turning her face so that their eyes met. Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she felt the warmth of his touch and her gaze quickly flitted away. After everything they'd been through, she should have been used to these moments where he looked at her with such tenderness, but it still made her cheeks flush and her blood run cold. She wondered whether he was thinking the same thing as her...and if maybe this moment was about to become something more...

Y/n felt the weight of the world melt away as Coriolanus leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, so gently and sweetly that it felt more like a whisper than a kiss. Her eyes remained shut, her heart pounding in her ears as she savored the sensations of Coriolanus's arms around her and their bodies pressed against each other, a perfect moment of intimacy. Y/n parted her lips slightly, and Coriolanus's kiss deepened as he wrapped his arms around her. The warmth in her stomach grew, her breaths coming in rapid gasps.

Y/n felt a jolt of electricity run through her body as her heart pounded harder in her chest. She had always known these feelings existed, but now they were suddenly given life as Coriolanus pressed himself closer to her, his hands brushing her hair away from her face and his breath catching in his throat. Y/n tried to hold back, but the kiss was so overwhelming that she let out a tiny whimper of surrender, her hands clutching at his shirt as their embrace became deeper and more meaningful.

Coriolanus was the first to pull away, his chest heaving as he lifted his head and stared down at her. Y/n couldn't breathe, her body still trembling from the sensations of the kiss.

"Y/n..." Coriolanus murmured, his fingers slowly brushing aside the dark locks that framed her face. His eyes were fixed on her lips as he studied her face closely, trying to determine whether she truly was as affected by their kiss as he was.

Y/n swallowed hard, unable to tear her eyes away from Coriolanus's face. How could their friendship ever be the same after a kiss like that? Yet, as she looked at him, she felt as if they were the only two people in the entire world, and that nothing else besides their feelings mattered at all.

She wanted to say something, ANYTHING to break the silence, but her thoughts were too clouded by the emotions coursing through her body, still reeling from the intensity of their kiss and every touch of his fingers on her skin.

Maybe if she broke the silence, maybe, just maybe things would’ve been different….