#so this little one shot was my excuse to write that hehe

[harmonictechnicality]

helloooo harmony dear 💕 all of your wips sound SO intriguing but i am going to go with whose lips are these? so consider this your sign to add 3 more sentences to that one (and to share a lil peek if you are so inclined!! 💕)

Hieeee dear sweet mack!! ❣️ so this started out as a blurb in my tumblr drafts and somehow evolved into a one-shot (because I cannot keep things short apparently 😂)

[nightmare-niko]

Pretty When You Cry [Father Charlie Mayhew x reader]

pt. 2

Word Count: 1916

Warnings: manhandling, kinda munch! Charlie, one slap, mean! Dom Charlie, blasphemy (they fuck in the church😬)

A/N: not my gifs! I have the originals reblogged on my page😘 this was actually already being written and then I got an anon request for basically exactly what I was already writing!! Hope ya like it hehe 🙃 i also dont really ever write like this kind of smut so i hope i did good!!

Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

You weren't a religious person by any means. But staying the night at your parents had you up early, trying to find the most church-appropriate outfit. of course, your parents failed to tell you that they were planning on bringing you along to church. Your skirt was a bit too short. But it is not like you had room to complain with such short notice!

You remember going to high school with Father Charlie— or as you knew him Charlie. The two of you didn't run with the same crowds-- but you knew each other.

Now, here you were. Paying no attention to the words coming from his mouth and all attention to how good he looked. Damn-- maybe you should have shot your shot years ago when he was a personal trainer.

As you watched him at the head of the room, you allowed your mind to wander.

One extremely long and boring sermon later, you stand awkwardly behind your parents as they talk to what Seems like every member of the church. God how you regret agreeing to come-- It's not like you knew anyone here- none of your friends went to church. But here you were, being judged by middle-aged churchgoers. How fun.

The sound of your name being called catches your attention.

You whip your head around to the noise, "Father Charlie!" The name is unnatural as it falls from your lips. You quickly look at your parents- too engrossed in a conversation. “It's been a while!" You awkwardly step closer to the man.

He hums, "It has been, hasn't it? The first time in the church as well.”

“Well, you know...” You gesture back to your parents.

"I'm assuming this wasn't on your schedule.” He looks you up and down, “Given your attire.”

You gasp sharply, heat rising to your face as you pathetically try to pull your skirt down. "I-uh,” you try to think of an excuse, "I didn't pack any pants..." You lie-- lying in a church is one thing but to the priest?

If Charlie sensed your lie he didn't comment on it. "Well, I hope you enjoyed today's sermon.”

"I did!" You lie again, a little too enthusiastically.

Charlie narrows his eyes at you, "You weren't paying attention, were you?" His voice is playful.

"No, I was not," You quickly confess.

He laughs, you have to fight to not stare shamefully at his beautiful face for too long. "That's odd— because when I looked at you, you looked very focused," He teases.

“I wasn't paying attention to your voice. Just your fa-" you stop in your tracks. Utterly petrified at the situation you have just found yourself in. His eyebrows raise in surprise at your slip-up. “I mean I didn't even know that you could see me in that crowd-- I-I- just figured that-”

“That every time we locked eyes it wasn't on purpose?” he finishes your thought.

You nod pathetically, your shoes suddenly extremely interesting.

Charlie takes a step towards you, the proximity making you look up at the man. Has he always been that tall? "I want you to go into my office and wait for me.” His voice is a seductive tone you have never heard him use before. It sends a shiver down your spine.

“But what about my parents?” you ask, voice just above a whisper.

“Dont worry about them,” he assures before walking away. Leaving you standing alone— stunned.

To say you were terrified was an understatement. Sure, you weren't in any danger-- at least you didn't think so. What exactly had you gotten yourself into? Here you sat, in a priest's office. Surrounded by biblical Imagery. And you were 99% Sure you were soaked through your cotton panties, you didn't care. No one but you was going to know... right?

Five minutes turned to ten. You sat anxiously in the chair across from Charlie's desk. A clock on the wall ticked away obnoxiously. You had figured when you walked in it would take him a while for him to return. how long should you wait? Has he forgotten that you were sitting in his office, impatiently waiting? You didn't dare to snoop, or even scroll on your phone. Charlie said to wait for him, and that's what you would do.

For thirty minutes you're alone in that office. you straighten your posture when you hear the clicks of Charlie’s boots nearing. The sound of the door opening makes you flinch pathetically. You don't dare turn around. Eyes glued on the desk in front of you.

Charlie is silent as he moves around behind you. Your pulse pounds in your throat at the anticipation.

“You seem nervous.” You tense at his voice, still refusing to turn around and face the man.

You try to swallow the lump in your throat, “I am nervous, Father.” You press your thighs together in an atempt to find some sort of relief to your throbbing center.

He groans quietly from behind you, “look at me.”

Like a magnet your head whips around to look at the man. His sharp gaze made your breath hitch. You felt hazy as he stepped towards you. Your eyes locked on his as he comes to stand right in front of you. Your breath quickens when he captures your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger.

Charlies predatory gaze on you deepens, his lips curling into a smirk, "you--" he rubs the lipstick on your mouth, smudging it. "Are such a pretty mess for me, darling.”

You bat your eyelashes up at him, “I don't know what you mean, Father.”

He grips the sides of your face harshly, cheeks smushing together into a pout. “Showing up to my church dressed like a slut—” he spits, “shamlessly eyefucking me the whole time like you were the only one in the room.”

You whimper at his words— he was right of course. But that didn't stop your face from flushing in embarrassment.

“Now look at you. Slut. Sitting before me like a doe as if you didn’t wait in my office hoping I would come in here and fuck you like the whore that you are.”

You moan shamelessly when he lets go of your face, while your whole body was screaming at you to submit to the man before you. You could help but push his buttons just a little bit further.

“You know for a priest you sure do have a filthy mouth—” His eyes narrow on you as you speak. “im such a slut but here you are hard in your pants over a damn mini skirt.” If looks could kill, you’d surely be dead. You needed more.

You open your mouth to speak again. But before you could even get a sound out, Charlie strikes his large hand across your cheek. You moan again, “fuck!”

Wordlessly, he turns to the desk before you. You watch curiously as he haphazardly pushes the clutter on his desk onto the floor. Your hands tremble in anticipation as you watch him bound towards you. He effortlessly picks you up from the chair you sat on, as if a reflex you cross you’d ankles behind his back as his hands greedily grip your thighs and ass.

He gently places you on the recently cleared off desk. A stark contrast to the way he effortlessly hoisted you from your seat. You attempt to grind down in the wooden desk under you for some kind of stimulation, but Charlie’s grip stops you.

“So impatient,” he purrs. He captures your lips in a quick, gentle kiss. You whine at the loss of him, but you don’t have to worry for long as his hands greedily grasps at your skirt, tearing at your legs. He leaves you with one last opened mouth kiss as he begins to trail wet kisses down your neck.

He mumbles something you can’t quite hear. But you don’t really care when he sinks to his knees, his strong hands prying your legs open. He trails more kisses to your inner thigh all the way up to your core. He licks a stripe over your soaked through panties, your legs try to close but his hands are holding your thighs open. His eyes lock on yours as he pulls them down your legs, the speed agonizing as you whimper. In a second his lips are back on you, his wet kisses up your thighs driving you mad.

“Charlie,” You thread your hand through his hair as he bites and licks at your heat like a starved man.

He mumbles a quick “no,” as he pulls away from you. His chin slicked and shiny from you. The scene is pornographic, if you had a camera you’d take a picture. He fumbles with his belt buckle and throws it to the side, the metal clanking to the floor loudly. You shamelessly stare as he stands back up, towering over you again he gets close enough that you feel his breath on your face.

“Look at you,” he tuts. You lurch forward— pulling him into a greedy, filthy kiss. When he moans into your mouth it’s the most heavenly sound you’ve ever heard. Pushing you back into the desk, once again he’s muttering something, a prayer. You paw at his zipper and he lazily watches you has you pull out his angry cock.

“Please?” You beg, tears welling up in your eyes from sheer sexual frustration.

“Since you asked so nicely~” he steals a quick kiss before dragging his leaking tip through your folds.

He pushes into you fully in one smooth motion. Your back arches up off of the desk, wood painfully digging into your spine. You didn’t care— all you cared about was him.

Fast sharp deep thrusts have you screaming as the sounds of skin ring throughout the office. You curse- throwing your arms over your head. Charlie’s mouth gaping while he groans, pressing and thrusting himself into you.

"Just, like that, oh.. god." You wail as he slams himself into your g spot repeatedly.

Charlie greedily paws at your clothed breasts as his hips slap into yours. You clench around him— you can already feel your orgasm building from the rough pace set. Charlie’s hips stutter from your action and you clench again. A low groan leaves his beautifully shaped lips as he digs his fingers into your hips.

You moan— you try to form words but Charlie feels so good inside of you that your brain feels like mush. He seems to be able to tell your close however by the way his thumb reaches down to rub sloppy circles onto your clit.

Your vision turns white as you come undone. Your nails dig into the desk below you as Charlie chases his own release. He leans down, pressing kisses into your cheeks and necks, unlike the kisses before; these are gentle and caring. You hiss when he pulls out of you, missing the feeling of him inside you immediately.

“How much convincing will it take for you to come to next weeks service?” He breathily laughs against the side of your face.

“If it’s gonna end like this again— none at all.”

♡︎༻🌸༺♡︎

Tag list (If you want to be added just comment!)

@Nallasstuff @chmpgneprblem @qoopeeya @lilybellalana @sleepysongbirdsings

[witchywcmans]

FORBIDDEN FRUIT. | LAIOS TOUDEN

synopsis ━━ laios can't seem to get enough after he first tastes you. but the lines in your friendship are beginning to blur. it's only when your party happens upon your ex-lover in the dungeon that laios realizes what he should've communicated all along. (laios x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ cunnilingus, praise, size kink, jealousy, classic missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual pining/confession, laios and reader are not good with communication (but they work it out v well), laios is self concious but reader is so kind to him !!, monster facts as dirty talk. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 4.8k

song inspiration ━━ awkward, sza / cherry, lana del rey / hunger, florence + the machine

author's note ━━ TECHNICALLY, this could be a part 2 to please, eat, so I'm just going to link as a part 2. you don't have to read please, eat before this, but if you like laios then obvi you should read it anyway!! I'm SO SORRY it took me so long to post another laios x reader 😭 I was trying to finish the manga before I wrote something else dungeon meshi-related, but life gets the way. oh well. also, this might be controversial, but in this fic I’m refuting the “laios is a virgin” allegations. SUE ME. I simply don’t believe he’s been adventuring so long and hasn’t been with anyone, that is crazzzy to me !! but that's just me 🤗 we all have our fave headcanons! my goal when I finish the manga is to write something for laios at the end of the story hehe. I hope you guys enjoy part 2! this one-shot is dedicated to @satoogojos 🫶

🪽 part i: PLEASE, EAT. / part ii: FORBIDDEN FRUIT. / part iii: TOO SWEET.

Catching feelings for your friend was truly a fickle thing. But you guessed it was bound to happen with what you and Laios were doing behind everyone’s back. Each night, after your party tucked themselves in their bedrolls, Laios would so delicately lace your arm through his and you two would find a private area … before he completely buried his face between your thighs.

He was fixated on the way you tasted, the way he could get you to cum so easily on his tongue. You were the only dessert he wanted after every dinner. Some nights, he would have you writhing from overstimulation, but he just wanted more of you – so much more.

It was a little confusing, though, how he didn’t ask for anything in return. Laios seemed to grind against the cold, dungeon floor as his tongue lapped at your essence, sometimes cumming in his pants and moaning between your legs. Or he would politely excuse himself after he was done, taking care of himself as you cleaned yourself up. You didn’t quite understand it, and maybe neither did he. You both were just too awkward to broach the subject.

The incident with the sea serpent had changed your friendship forever. Not only did Laios save you from becoming one, but the intimacy you both now shared seemed to open you up more. You found yourself divulging more secrets to him, leaning on him when you needed someone, even being more impartial to Senshi’s monster meals. And you liked the way he smiled, how he looked at you. You liked how fearless he was. You liked how protective he was over the party, especially you. You … really liked him. Far more than a crush. In fact, you wished you could go back in time and just have a crush. But your feelings for him became deeper as you crept lower and lower into the dungeon together. Your goal was still to come out of this dungeon alive, but now … you hoped that you would make it out alive together.

What a foolish girl you had become.

You tried to remain focused on the path ahead of you, but you were clearly lost in thought today. The party had reached floor 6, which meant you were closer and closer to the deepest part of the dungeon and hopefully rescuing Laios’ sister, Falin. The last thing you expected to see on floor 6 were other adventurers, let alone your ex.

You were hesitant to call him an ex, since you two had never really been anything but a warm body in each other’s beds while living on the surface. But when your bodies collided and your eyes met his, you realized why you had taken a liking to him in the first place. He had been a butcher’s son, handy with an axe, and you had liked his big, strong hands. You almost fell right into him from the slippery dungeon floor, but those strong hands seemed to catch you like you were made of air. “It’s you,” he chuckled, setting you up straight and tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “Look at you … feels like it was just yesterday when we were on the surface, huh?”

Marcille looked like she didn’t want anything to do with your ex and his party, but Senshi was very kind to offer them food, if they needed it. Chilchuck seemed neutral, and Laios … you still couldn’t read Laios as easily as the rest of the party. He watched your ex like a hawk, standing behind you as if to protect you. Your ex’s hands were big, sure, but Laios was tall, his shoulders wide and intimidating even without the armor. Laios narrowed his eyes slightly whenever he saw your ex’s gaze roam over you, like he was undressing you with his eyes. And you weren’t sure if you caught it – it only lasted a second – but did Laios clench his hands into fists?

There wasn’t enough time in the world to dwell on it. Especially when you had ghosts seemingly pulling you into another area of the dungeon and waking up on a dirt path, a beautiful golden castle mounted ahead of you. Your party was initially confused, walking into the village and seeing monsters living harmoniously with humans. After becoming acquainted with the village, you and your friends were offered a warm, delicious meal with Yaad, the lord of the Golden Country. After Yaad explained the history of this village, you all were each given rooms to rest in for the night. The beds were small and cold, but far better than a bedroll.

You were used to Laios initiating with you every night, but by the time everyone went to sleep, he still didn’t call upon you. So you stood from your bed, adjusting the nightgown given to you, and walked across the hall to where Laios’ room was. You knocked on his door, and you heard the slip of a sword into a sheath behind the thin wood. He had been inspecting Kensuke for some reason, probably mulling over Yaad’s words. When he opened the door, he was dressed in loose pants and a linen shirt, droplets running down his neck. He must’ve just bathed. You couldn’t stop yourself from digging your nails into your palm.

“Can I come in?” You asked in a hushed voice, and he moved out of the way for you to step inside.

His room looked exactly like yours, but the sheets were ruffled from lack of sleep. Laios walked around you and sat on the edge of the bed, leaving you more confused than ever. You played with your hands as you stared at him, contemplating. “Is something wrong, Laios?” You inquired, stepping closer to him. “You’ve been acting weird even before we got here.”

His brow furrowed for a moment. “How do you figure?”

“Well, you …” Your tongue clicked. “You didn’t come to find me after everyone went to bed.”

He seemed to concede, shoulders dipping at your answer. Shifting on the mattress, he propped himself up against his pillows and moved Kensuke to lean against the wall. His silence was even more perplexing. This had to be the longest time Laios went without talking. He was a blabbermouth.

“I don’t understand,” you continued, walking over and sitting on the end of his bed. “Are you … are you angry with me?”

“No, no,” Laios was quick to reply, “I’m not angry with you. I’m just …”

You raised a brow, eager to hear his answer.

“That man you recognized. On floor 6,” he finally said, his fists clenching again at the memory. “I didn’t … I didn’t like the way he looked at you. And his tone. It was disrespectful to you. Unless I’m reading this all wrong.”

You were taken aback by his honesty. So he had been bothered by your ex. “Oh,” you replied, “well … me and him, we do have history, Laios. But it’s in the past.”

“I could tell.” He was picking at his nails now, any excuse not to meet your eyes. “Everyone has a life before the dungeon. It’s not about the past. I just … I didn’t like him. Or how he looked at you like … like he still wanted you. Or something.”

“Or something,” you repeated, nodding your head. A slow smile crept onto your lips at the realization. “Laios, are you jealous?”

His head jolted up, his eyes glued to his hands, searching for something unknown. Realization washed over his face, as if he hadn’t even considered this possibility. “Oh, gods,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “This whole day I’ve been trying to reconcile with what I’m feeling and I knew I wasn’t mad at you – maybe just mad at the circumstances – and none of it made sense, but now …” He finally met your eyes, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “I was just jealous. How did I not realize?”

“Maybe because we didn’t talk about it,” you offered in a low voice, reaching out and lacing your fingers with his. A jolt of electricity ran through your fingertips and all the way up your arm. You wished you could hide your reaction, but it was clear as day, making Laios shift in his spot. “Laios, we should talk –”

“You’re not leaving the party, are you?” His grip on your fingers went tight, and he didn’t even realize it.

“No,” you laughed, scooting closer and running your free hand over his face. His cheeks flushed instantly when you touched him. “I think … we should talk about what’s happening between us.”

Laios’ gaze went narrow as he processed your words. “Oh,” he said blankly, and then his eyes went wide. “Oh.”

“I just … because we’ve been doing this every night … it’s hard not to feel …” You sighed, unable to get the words right. But he seemed to understand, quick-witted as ever, squeezing your hand in encouragement. And then he smiled at you, all dopey and kind, and your heart began to pound. “I can’t help but think that the lines are being blurred between us. My feelings for you are … much deeper than what they were initially. And if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. I needed you to know. I’m sorry if this hurts … whatever our relationship is.”

He was still smiling, his other hand gripping your waist, pulling you even closer. “Well, I think –”

“And now I can’t help but wonder if maybe – just maybe – you feel the same way,” you started rambling, terrified to know how he was going to reply. “Because why would you feel jealous if you didn’t … I shouldn’t make assumptions. But I still wondered. And I can’t stop talking. Again, I don’t want this to ruin anything and I’m sorry if it does. My ex doesn’t mean anything to me anymore and he won’t ever again –”

Out of nowhere, Laios used his upper body strength to flip you onto your back, pinning you to the bed. Now your cheeks were flushed, completely caught off guard by the action. He sat in between your legs, his fingers just brushing over your waist, as he said, “I do. Feel the same. I feel like I’m the one who could’ve ruined this because I didn’t realize it sooner.”

You gave him a sad smile, reaching up to cup his chin. “You couldn’t ruin anything.”

He leaned into your palm when your hand moved to his cheek, humming under his breath. He then leaned down, his body just barely pressing against yours, as if he craved your body heat. Like a moth to a flame.

“Can we not talk about your ex ever again?” He muttered, his hands running up and down your sides. “Because when I saw him today, all I could think about was …” He stopped himself abruptly.

“What?” Your curiosity peaked.

“I’m going to sound like a jealous brute,” he sighed dramatically, nose brushing against yours as his hands moved higher, thumbs grazing over the underside of your breasts. The material of your nightgown was so thin that your peaked nipples were already visible. “I just … couldn’t stop thinking about all the times I’ve tasted you that he hasn’t. I wondered if he knew exactly how you liked it, which places made those funny sounds come out of your mouth. And then, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and all I wanted this whole day was to get you alone.”

You shuddered when his thumb brushed over one of your taut nipples, making your heel run down the back of his leg. His words alone made tingles run down your spine, but the second his hands were on you, you were properly soaked. The both of you lay there for a moment: him on top of you, nuzzling your nose, rolling his fingers over your nipples through your nightgown, eliciting breath hitches from your lips.

It was so slow, so patient, so good, but had you wanting more. And you couldn’t stop the words coming out when you blurted, “I want to have sex.”

He paused, opening his eyes for a moment, making sure he heard you properly.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you said quickly, feeling awkward. But why were you so shy all of a sudden? It’s not like he didn’t have his tongue deep inside your pussy every night. Maybe it was because there was a question still lying underneath the surface. “Why ... why don’t you want me to help you finish after you eat me out? Sometimes you just … walk away to take care of yourself.”

Laios’ face went bright red, and then he buried his face in your neck. “I’m so embarrassed.”

Your hand pushed back his cropped, blonde hair, trying to soothe his racing heart. “Why are you embarrassed?”

“Because it’s … it’s big,” he sighed and lifted his head. “There. I said it. It’s just big. And the last person who saw it made me feel super self-conscious about it.”

You couldn’t help but snort. “You’re embarrassed because you have a big dick?”

His pretty golden eyes were serious, but it looked like he wanted to laugh with you. “Please, don’t make it sound trivial.”

“It’s not trivial, it’s just …” You went to cup both his cheeks. The way he looked at you was unlike anything you ever experienced. You wondered why it took you so long to realize he felt the same. “I would never make you feel self-conscious about anything. I like everything about you, Laios.”

Your words had him melting, leaning back down into you and kissing you slowly. It was only when his tongue slipped into your mouth that his hand snaked down between your legs, just cupping your soaked entrance, the one thing he loved to eat more cheesecake. Realizing that you weren’t wearing any underwear had him reeling. “Gods …” He moaned into the kiss, his fingers simply running down your soaked folds.

As his lips broke away from yours, you asked in a tone as sweet as barometz, “Do you want to have sex, Laios?”

“Yes,” he replied, voice desperate. “Yes, please.”

Your hands went to the hem of his loose, linen shirt, breaking your kiss again to lift it over his head. For the first time, you were able to see what he looked like underneath all the armor. His shoulders were wide-set, his torso soft while also being oddly defined. Most tall-men your party encountered thought Laios was on the slender side, not believing how strong he was. But once your eyes beheld his biceps, you knew how wrong they all were. He was built and muscular and – gods, you could admire him for hours.

Laios stopped your hands from going any further, a pleading look in his eyes. He pushed your nightgown up and bunched it at the waist. “Can I taste you first?”

You nodded quickly, already intoxicated by the way he kissed you, the way he smiled at you, all eager and excited to bury his face in your pussy. It didn’t take him long; he was lightning fast, moving down your body and lifting your legs on his shoulders so he could eat you out easier. His tongue dove into your folds immediately, and he groaned at the first taste. You were acutely more aware every night that he could do this for hours, just lapping at you lazily, bringing you to orgasm over and over again. No monster compared to the way you tasted.

His nose bumped your clit as he tongued your leaking hole, practically whimpering at every drop of your wetness that reached his mouth. Large, calloused hands wrapped around your thighs, making sure they didn’t close and digging into your flesh. Your own hands fisted into the sheets, your ass lifted off the bed, but you could still grind your hips against his face. Soft whines left your lips, nothing compared to the groans Laios was making as he ate you like he didn’t have a three-course meal just an hour ago. You almost wondered if you should tell him to quiet down, afraid of the others hearing, but you were too lost in the pleasure to care.

It was clear to you the closer you got to reaching your peak that Laios wasn’t keen on stopping. And as much as you truly wanted to cum all over his tongue, you thought it was important that you both have this new experience together. It took you a few seconds to finally gather the courage to say something, his tongue feeling too good as he swirled it around your sensitive clit. “Laios,” you called, and then a little louder, “Laios.”

He lifted his head, your juices dripping down his chin. A primal urge made him want to dive back into you, but he controlled himself. His tongue licked at your essence around his mouth, and you shuddered at the sight.

“I want you inside me,” you whispered. “Is that okay?”

“Yes, yes,” he muttered hoarsely, placing your legs so delicately back on the bed, as if they were made of glass. “Of course.” He so desperately wanted to taste you again, but he was even more excited for this, to finally feel something other than his hand wrapped around his cock. You were the first person he ever tasted, but it had been quite a while since he was truly intimate with someone, to slide into someone and feel them clench around him.

As you tugged off your nightgown, Laios began to work at the ties of his pants. But his hands stopped as they came undone, glancing up at you with hesitation. You looked so pretty sitting in the middle of his bed, waiting for him, naked and vulnerable. He felt silly for feeling so self-conscious, especially when you were so beautiful like this.

“Laios,” you cooed, caressing his arm, “there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. And if you don’t want to, then we can stop.”

He almost choked on a laugh. “Trust me,” he replied, “I want to.”

After another beat of stalling, Laios finally stepped out of his bottoms and blushed pink from ear to ear. His cock was … well, it certainly was big. You sympathized with him; if anyone told you something about your body during sex, you would focus on that forever. But there was nothing for him to be embarrassed about. Truthfully, most males would kill to have what he did. His cock was thick and long, a few veins trailing down the shaft, curving up at his pretty red tip that was dripping with precum. You got even more wet just from staring at it, wondering what he would finally feel like inside of you. 

Your mouth opened to say something, anything to make him feel better, but he was already talking: “I need a distraction so I don’t think about you staring at it.” He crawled back onto the bed and between your thighs, immediately pressing his lips to yours. You could taste yourself still on his mouth, and your arms wound around his shoulders instantly. His teeth tugged at your bottom lip, and he asked, “Can I just … ramble about monster facts for a minute?”

You blinked, not expecting that. Laios released your lower lip and sighed, clearly still nervous. “It’ll help me get over this feeling. I swear. Or if you want to stop this, we can. I’ll … I’ll understand –”

“Laios,” you huffed, your mouth pulling back into a sweet smile, “I want you to do whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” he muttered, nuzzling his face back into your neck, placing sloppy kisses. “Did you know that … that harpies almost exclusively have the head of a female human and it is unknown if male harpies exist?”

His voice was muffled against your neck, but you could tell he was desperate and aching. You felt his hard length against your stomach, smearing precum on the exposed skin. “Really?” You breathed out, trying to engage with him but completely failing when he licked a stripe up your neck. A moan escaped your lips.

“There’s also … there’s, uh …” He was struggling to talk now, grasping his cock and giving it a few quick pumps before teasing the head against your dripping wet folds. Your legs instinctively opened wider for him, hoping to whatever gods were out there that you could take his cock. “There also exists a seabird variant of harpies called … called, Sirens. Their wings and  … their – their tail look like a seagull’s.”

You could hardly breathe as you asked, “What else, Laios?”

He began to push inside you slowly, letting you adjust with each inch. “Okay, okay … uh … bicorns … bicorns hate – oh, fuck.” Just the feeling of your tight warmth wrapped around his cock had him biting into your shoulder, like you were the forbidden fruit. He could hardly string together a word, could hardly think, as he sank deeper and deeper into you, his whole body shaking. “Bicorns hate … hate virtue. They prefer – shit – immorality. It is believed that … doing all seven deadly sins will … will allow an individual to approach a bicorn – fuck. Fuck. It feels –”

When he was finally buried to the hilt, all he could do was breathe into your neck. You whined, locking your legs around his waist. The stretch was unbelievable; your walls gripped him like a vice. But it was even better than you could’ve imagined. If you had thought originally that the night would go this way, you would’ve at least brushed your hair. Laios didn’t care though, inhaling the flowery scent as he nosed your pretty strands. You couldn’t even comprehend – whether it be from the stretch of his thick cock inside you or the overwhelming amount of butterflies in your stomach – how you were so lucky to have found him.

Not to mention, you felt even luckier that this wasn’t happening on a cold dungeon floor.

With one hand carding into his hair, you chuckled under your breath, “Had enough of reciting monster facts?”

“Mmhmm …” He groaned, unable to form a sentence. You finally felt him pull back before pushing into you in one fast, deep thrust, making you shiver. Your body was hardly used to feeling this full, but you wanted him so badly that it was humiliating, a pink blush tinting your nose. “You feel so good,” he muttered.

You pulled on his hair, and his head lifted from your neck. His lips were swollen from kissing you. Yours probably looked the same. But that didn’t matter right now as he held your gaze and began thrusting into you a little faster. His eyes were the color of melted gold, flecked with amber and brown, and you felt like you could stare into them forever while he fucked you. Laios lifted one of your legs higher on his waist, but his other hand stayed around your middle, keeping you nestled against him.

“Laios,” you whimpered, feeling him nudge your clit with each roll of his hips. Despite his desperation, his pace was tender and relaxed, making sure you were adjusting to his size. He knew he was big – clearly, it was something he’d been self-conscious about for a while – but the way you were looking at him right now … he’d never felt more at ease, more special. This was all he ever wanted: to be close to someone like this, to find intimacy with someone he had true feelings for. All the other times had been stepping stones, leading to this moment with you, where your warmth enveloped him so nicely and your gaze made him want to cum on the spot.

His hips began to move a little faster, pushing even deeper inside you, as his mouth swallowed your moans in a hungry kiss. Face going hot, you trembled, and his cock pulsed inside you with each pass. Your nails dragged down his shoulder blades, leaving marks for him to examine later, like a predator with its prey. Goosebumps raised on his skin, feeling himself get closer … and closer … and closer. If you kept digging your nails into him like that, he’d surely lose his grasp on reality. But you just felt so good, so warm, and he craved you. Craved you like you were his last meal.

“Laios,” you croaked out when his lips broke from yours, “Laios, are you close?”

He could hardly say anything else but, “Mm …” 

You thought you could get there by now from his tongue teasing you earlier, but you needed a little more friction. Bumping against your clit wasn’t enough. “Okay, okay,” you rambled, reaching down between your legs to touch yourself. “Just hold off for another minute. I’ll get there.”

Laios opened his eyes, realizing what you were doing, immediately envious of your own hand. “No, let me,” he murmured, voice like honey, and found your clit easily. “Then I can taste you on my fingers after.” His excitement made you laugh, which brought a smile to his own lips.

He shifted a little, pulling back so only his tip rested inside you, and fucked back into you at a different angle, one that brushed against your special spot. The stimulation of both your clit and g-spot had your back arching, whimpers slipping out of your lips like a chant.

“Is … this … better?” He asked, panting after each word.

Your voice was strained when you answered, “Y—Yes.”

His balls slapped against the underside of your ass, and he knew how close he was, but all he cared about at this moment was cumming together. He needed to see that look on your face when you reached your peak. He only got to see it a few times, when he lifted his eyes while tasting you, watching the way your lips parted and sweat ran down your forehead.

His fingers rubbed tight circles on your aching clit – knowing exactly what you liked – and you were close. So, so close already. Laios had a way of touching you that felt inquisitive, yet effortless. Like he wanted to learn which spots made you moan the loudest, while also already knowing without even touching you. You grew to like him not just because of his dopey grin, his protectiveness, or his positivity, but also for the way he was willing to learn with you, the way he needed you. And right now, he needed you to cum more than anything.

Tension coiled in your lower abdomen, making you gasp out, “Laios – fuck – Laios, I’m gonna –”

“I know, I know,” he rasped. His pace was nearing on brutal, his whole body shaking as he held off his release for you. “Together. We’ll – together.”

And then, your muscles tighten. You clenched around his cock, and it only took one more thrust against your g-spot to have you falling apart underneath him. You put a hand over your mouth as you cried out, careful of the rest of the party hearing. Your eyes rolled back, his fingers stroking your clit through it, and it all just felt too, too good. Your orgasm went on forever, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you. As your walls spasmed around his cock, he groaned low, finally spilling into you. His hips stuttered. His mouth gasped for air against your lips, as he felt a ripple of relief from emptying himself inside you. He bit into your shoulder again to muffle his own noises. Your pussy convulsed, milking every last drop, and you were pretty sure you saw stars.

Once the aftershocks hit you both, he slumped against you, breathing in the scent of your hair again. Your fingers traced small circles onto his back muscles, your chest rising and falling with the fast beat of your heart. When his cock went soft inside you, his fingers finally left your clit and he brought them to his mouth. Your eyes were half-lidded as you watched him wrap his lips around his fingers and suck the juices off, moaning at the taste. He looked like an intricate painting; you couldn’t help but admire the sight.

His fingers left his mouth with a wet pop, and he whispered in a voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him, “You just taste so, so good.”

Laios kissed you again, slow and full of affection. You didn’t even care that he was still inside you; you could stay like this forever, pressed into his warm skin. Gods, you liked him so much that you immediately whimpered as his tongue slid into your mouth, and when he shuddered at your fingers on his back … you couldn’t believe you once questioned if he returned your feelings. You had both been so oblivious.

His mouth moved away from yours and he cupped your cheek. He took a moment to memorize the dusting of red across your face, the way your eyes hardly opened after sex, and then said, “Are you hungry? I think we both need a snack. It’s been a long night already.”

You giggled. “You had me at hungry.”

[pedroscurls]

letters across time (one-shot)

summary: after having moved to rome for a fresh new start, you begin to receive letters from an unlikely stranger that you begin to develop feelings for... only to come to the heartbreaking realization that the two of you may never meet.

pairing: marcus acacius x fem!reader content warnings: angst (with a happy ending), strangers-to-lovers trope (?), mutual pining, mentions of war and death, sorry - i've got a lack of historical ancient roman knowledge but trying my best lol, deviation from the film (lucilla dies before marcus - sorry, wanted marcus to be single / widowed which only fuels his hatred for the emperors), reader has a nickname (rose), excuse my poor attempt at speaking italian, no use of y/n. word count: 9.4k a/n: so i'm really stepping out of my comfort zone with this one, but i've been obsessed with marcus a since gladiator 2 came out (and honestly who else hasn't lol). also a bit of a tidbit - my first ever tattoo is with the latin saying ad maiora so i had to fit it into this story hehe. if the characterization seems off or if the historical aspect of ancient rome / dialogue is inaccurate, please bear with me - it's my first ever marcus a fic and first time writing in that time period... anyway, huge thank you to @jolapeno for hosting this "dear-uary" challenge <3. my epistolary is letters and my prompt is here. hope you all enjoyed this!

Finally settled in, you walk out to your small balcony and take a seat. It overlooks the famous Colosseum and despite the sounds of chatter coming from nearby, you have to wonder how this place looked centuries ago. Rome had always been a place you wanted to visit, but never did you think that you’d move here. 

You don’t speak the language (yet), and the apartment you moved into was surprisingly affordable given the location. An elderly couple owns the small building and when you had approached them about a vacant apartment listing, they were more than eager to have you move in. It wasn’t at all luxurious–the apartment building. It was very dated, remnants of ancient Rome decorated throughout the building. It almost felt like you were transported back to that time period, given the decoration that filled not only your apartment but the entire building itself. 

The couple could speak a little English, asking plenty of questions that a usual landlord wouldn’t ask. 

American? Yes, you answered.

Married? No, you replied with a heavy sigh–memories of your last relationship flickering in your mind. 

A beautiful girl like you, not married? No, you repeated–now trying to end the conversation in hopes that you don’t have to go into detail why you uprooted your entire life into one suitcase. 

You had noticed the way the older woman’s smile drops, can see her eyes softening at the sight of you. It’s almost like she knows, like she can understand why you’re here. She’s the first one to say that you got the apartment–the brief meeting lasting only twenty minutes. 

It’s yours, she said. 

You had told them you weren’t sure you could afford it, given how close it was to the Colosseum and knowing that it was one of the hottest tourist spots. There’s a lot of foot traffic that surrounds this area and you’d be lucky to have found an apartment this fast. 

Whatever you can pay, the husband had chimed in. We will accept.

Then, the woman had touched your arm–gentle, light, almost feather-like and you could have sworn the warmth radiated throughout your entire body. This place, this couple–it felt familiar, it felt like home. 

You nodded in agreement and you shook hands with the husband before the woman hugged you gently. 

And now, sitting in your new apartment, this didn’t feel real. You still feel like you’re running, like you’re looking over your shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But the sun begins to set, the sky soon turns a shade of orange and you let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding. 

A flood of relief washes over you.

You’re safe. 

This is your fresh start. 

And you remember what the woman had told you when they had given you the keys to your new apartment: Ad Maiora, cara mia, she whispered, eyes staring into your own. A fleeting gaze of understanding. You asked her what that meant and she smiled, patted your hand and answered, Towards greater things, my dear. 

After finding luck with your apartment, you doubt that your luck would continue. But now, a month later, you have a steady job at a coffee shop that’s within walking distance and the elderly couple–Giovanni and Antonia–have begun teaching you Italian. Most nights, they invite you to their apartment for dinner where they ask you about your day along with a detailed lesson in learning Italian. Some nights, though, they ask you to teach them English–living so close to a famous tourist area, they encounter plenty of Americans and they believe it’d be good for business if they learned how to speak the language. 

Rome starts to feel more like home as the days pass. Giovanni and Antonia have welcomed you with such warmth that they soon find out the reason for you moving here. You told them you left America for a fresh start–having just gotten out of a very toxic relationship and a very meaningless job. You wanted more for yourself and you knew that staying in America was only going to keep you complacent, stagnant. 

Antonia had given you a hug at the end of that night–a hug that you had gotten so used to receiving, a hug that you found so much comfort in. They reminded you so much of your grandparents that had raised you–those were the only good memories that you dreamt of, a time where you could be a young girl again, running around in your grandparents’ home. 

You feel much freer, more at ease, safe now that you feel fully settled in here. And one day after work, you walk up the two flights of stairs to your apartment and unlock your door. There’s an envelope on the hardwood floor–almost like someone had slipped it underneath your door. There’s no writing on it, no name addressed on it, but you pick it up anyway and notice that it isn’t sealed. You set it on your small rounded table and walk to your kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine–this is routine for nights when you don’t have dinner with Antonia and Giovanni. 

You take a quick sip of your red wine and then move to your bedroom, removing your clothes to change into much more comfortable clothing–shorts and an oversized crewneck, your hair now pulled into a messy bun. You’re barefoot when you walk back into the kitchen to retrieve your wine glass. As you pass the rounded dining table, you notice the envelope. Someone must have had to slide it underneath your door on purpose, right? 

You take the envelope and then walk out to your balcony, sitting on one of the seats as you set the glass on the small table. Slowly, you pull the letter out of the envelope and open it, the writing in neat cursive. You shouldn’t be reading it, especially if this was meant for someone else. 

Confused but intrigued, you continue to read. 

Lucilla died today. I was not there to bid her goodbye. I had given her a promise–that this campaign will be my last. All of Numidia–for the glory of Rome… all for nothing. Writing this journal entry surely is treacherous–I could be punished for it, but what is the point of it all? This is not Rome. This is not the Rome I had promised to fight for.  Lucilla–I am sorry, my lady. I will love you for the rest of my days and cannot wait until we meet again. Your blue eyes, your smile… Your laugh and your voice–I will carry it with me, my love. I will speak with the Senate. I will–I will do what is right, what must be done.  For you. For Rome.  Acacius

You’re unsure of what you just read. Lucilla. Numidia. Acacius. Rome. It almost seems like this is a journal entry–the feel of the paper, the cursive writing. Maybe you shouldn’t have read it, but you’re curious. Something inside you tells you to write back–almost like a tug, a pull that you feel in the pit of your stomach. So, you grab a piece of paper and a pen and begin writing–not in cursive, though.

Dear Acacius,  I’m so very sorry for your loss. I’m not sure there’s anything anyone can say to make things better and I’m not even sure if time helps either… Shit happens. It sucks, and I want to say that life goes on, but it doesn’t. At least not for the person who lives.  I lost my grandparents when I was eighteen–it crushed my entire world and set me on a path that I’m still trying to fix. I know this isn’t the same as losing a wife or a partner and I’m not even sure if I’m making any sense. I just–I know what loss feels like and it fucking sucks.  Anyway, I think this might have been sent to me by accident and I’m sorry that I opened it and read it. It wasn’t my intention. So, I’m just gonna send it back to you–somehow–but… I hope things get better for you, Acacius (really cool name, by the way!).  Best wishes,  A stranger

You fold your letter and place it into the envelope with Acacius’s original piece of paper. You then close the envelope, grab your glass of wine and walk back into your apartment, setting the envelope onto your dining table so that it’s visible for you tomorrow morning to ask Antonia about. 

The following morning after getting ready for work, you notice that the envelope is gone. You furrow a brow in confusion, beginning to turn over your entire apartment to find the envelope–contents of your letter along with Acacius’s journal entry inside of it. When you realize that you’re late for work, you decide to call in sick and quickly leave your apartment to descend the stairs to speak with Antonia. 

She’s in the community garden, tending to the roses and when she sees you, a bright grin lines her lips. She stands and pulls you into a hug without hesitation. 

“Cara mia, no work today?” 

You shake your head and ask, “Antonia, there was an envelope in my apartment last night. Do you know who might have slid it under my door?” 

“Envelope?” she shakes her head, confusion written across her features. “Like a letter?” 

“Well, not really?” you answer. “It seemed like a journal entry. They talked about Lucilla, about Numidia–”

“Lucilla? My dear, she was the daughter of Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius.”

“Wait, that was centuries ago.” 

Antonia nods. “And Numidia,” she sighs. “So very tragic.”

“Antonia, who’s Acacius?” 

“General Acacius?”

“G–General?”

“Cara mia, cosa sta succedendo?” asks Antonia. My dear, what’s going on?

You shake your head. “Nothing. Um, I’ll have to skip tonight’s dinner with you and Giovanni. Mi dispiace.” 

“Cara mia–”

You give her a hug and walk back inside your apartment, determined to find out more about Acacius. 

Marcus returns to his chambers, distraught and overcome with grief. His bed–once shared with Lucilla–now remains cold and empty. He can’t bring himself to lie in bed, yearning for his wife who is no longer alive. After Numidia, he was more than ready to return home–returning home meant returning to Lucilla, but when news of her death finally reached him, he no longer found the need to go back to Rome, despite the emperors’ orders. 

But Marcus was a man of honor. He would ask Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla for a period of rest from war, to fully grieve the loss of Lucilla. He can’t even think about attending the emperors’ ceremony that’s dedicated to his success in Numidia–how can he when Lucilla is no longer here? 

He hears a knock on the door and he walks–barefoot–to open it. He sees a chambermaid on the other side–she has a look of sympathy across her features with a hint of fear. 

“G–General,” she mutters. “There is a letter for you.” 

“A letter?” he asks, confused.

She nods and extends her hand. Marcus takes the envelope from her and gives her a single nod, dismissing her silently. She turns on her heel and Marcus shuts the door, walking towards the candle that illuminates a small table. He takes a seat, pours himself a cup of wine before he begins to open it. He holds two pieces of a paper–one he’s familiar with and when he opens it, he realizes it’s the journal entry that he had written–and the other, much more smooth, less texture, more white in color. When he opens it, his eyes widen at the writing–all capitalized, not written in cursive. 

He reads the first line and realizes that this is a letter to him. He reads it with interest, eyes still slightly widened at the choice of words that he’s not used to. 

Shit sucks. 

Cool name.

It’s signed A Stranger and he isn’t sure how his journal entry even got into the hands of someone else. He doesn’t have any information aside from the fact that your writing is unusual and the words you use are out of the ordinary. 

But, he finds comfort in your letter. He’s known loss before–plenty of his men understand what he’s going through–but somehow talking to a stranger who doesn’t truly know who he is provides a sense of relief. He doesn’t have to be General Acacius in his response to you–he can just be Marcus. 

So, he grabs a piece of paper and his quill and begins writing to you. 

Dear Stranger,  Thank you for returning my journal entry. I am not sure how that fell into your hands and it is quite alright that you read it. However, for some reason, I feel some relief knowing that I am not alone. Maybe my journal entry was meant to find you… Do you believe in that? In fate?  Anyway, I am sorry for your loss as well. Loss is… Well, it is a part of life but that does not mean that it is pleasant either. I am sure the path that you are on now will lead you to greater things. There is a saying–if you are familiar–Ad Maiora. It means towards greater things.  Also, what do you mean by ‘cool name’? It is quite interesting that my name is associated with some kind of temperature… unless I am misunderstanding.  In any case, you may call me Marcus. If you are comfortable, may I ask what your name is?  I hope this letter finds you well, stranger. And I hope I get to talk to you again.  Best wishes,  Marcus

He re-reads his letter, furrows a brow and sighs. It sounds desperate–a plea to get you to talk to him again because he feels less alone when he’s writing to you. He isn’t sure how this letter will get to you, but he keeps his journal entry and your letter and places his reply back into the envelope. 

Marcus spends the better part of his night drinking, having ended up falling asleep at his desk and the envelope magically disappearing by the time he awakes the following morning. 

You awake the following morning, having fallen asleep on your couch with your laptop and notebook scattered on the coffee table. You had spent the entire night researching Acacius. Antonia was right–Marcus Acacius was a General for the Roman empire, serving under the rule of Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla. Empress Lucilla was his wife, but had died while he was on his way back from Numidia. But all of this–it happened centuries ago. 211 AD. And Acacius ended up dying–right in the center of the Colosseum after he was forced to fight in the arena after the emperors found out his plan of treachery. 

There’s no way that the person you had written to the other day was the same man you had researched–he was dead. Surely, you can’t be writing to someone from a different time period and to someone who is no longer alive. Right? 

You sit up from your couch and notice the same envelope magically resting on your coffee table. Quickly, you grab it and pull the letter out. Same paper, same writing. 

It’s from Acacius. 

You read it quickly, a small smile lining your lips and a quiet giggle escaping you. You feel a wave of emotion when you read his reply; it’s obvious this man is clearly still alive but how could it be possible that you’re communicating with someone who lives in an entirely different time period? And how come the envelope is your only string tying you to him? 

After you finish reading his letter, you grab your notebook and pen and begin writing your reply. 

Dear Marcus,  You can call me Rose. It’s my favorite flower and I grew up helping my grandma with her garden, which was filled with roses.  You’re cute, Marcus. Cool name meaning… You have a nice name. I think that translates the same?  Ironically enough, Ad Maiora is something I’m trying to remind myself when I have tough days. A good friend of mine mentioned it to me when I moved here. It’s been something that keeps me going every day… the hope that I’m moving in the right direction.  And fate… I don’t think I believe in it. We all have free will and everything we do in life is a choice we make… like my choice in getting into a relationship with a really bad man. Would you call that fate?  I like talking to you too… and I feel less alone too. Can I ask a question, by the way? What year is it?  Best wishes,  Rose

You take Marcus’s letter and set it aside, folding your reply and placing it back into the envelope. You’re sure that it’s going to disappear during the night and you hope that you can wake up the next day with a response from Marcus. 

Marcus attends his ceremony, dressed in white and gold as he feigns a look of pride, a forced smile when he’s standing in front of Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla. It makes his blood boil–the fact that these two young men are parading him around like he’s done something so great, so grand. All he can see is the unnecessary bloodshed, the bodies burning in that pit. All he can feel is the emptiness in his soul–Marcus doesn’t want to be here. 

And not once did they give their condolences over the loss of Lucilla. Marcus asks for a respite from this war, but they don’t grant him that luxury. He has a cut along the side of his neck due to Emperor Geta placing a sharp blade along his skin. As soon as the ceremony is over, Marcus retreats to his chamber where the envelope that disappeared that morning magically appears on his desk. 

Still in his white and gold attire, he quickly opens the envelope and reads your letter. He lets out a breath of relief as he sits down and reads your words over and over again. It gives him comfort–something he desperately needs right now. 

There’s something in the way your words put him at ease. He still has to put Lucilla to rest and he isn’t looking forward to it–that the next time he sees his wife will be in a coffin. 

He grabs a piece of paper and begins writing to you. 

Dear Rose,  That is a beautiful name and a beautiful flower. There are gardens filled with them here. Now, when I see a rose, I will think of you.  Cute–I have never been called cute before. That is certainly a first, thank you.  I believe in fate, Rose. I believe that everything happens for a reason… But I am sorry to hear that you had to endure a difficult relationship. It pains me to hear that you were mistreated and I surely hope that you are far from him now.  I believe that we have crossed paths for a reason. Maybe we will never know why, but I am surely glad that we did.  You can ask me any question you like and I will be more than happy to answer. It is 211 AD–do you not know the year? Also, I assume that you live in Rome since these letters are coming rather quickly.  The next few days will be… rather difficult. I am planned to bury my wife and I am not sure if I will be available to reply, but if you send me a response… I will do my best to write to you when I can.  I am not looking forward to saying goodbye to Lucilla. She was an amazing woman. She had to sacrifice a lot in her life–she was very brave, strong, resilient… I should have been there at her bedside. I should have held her hand when she took her last breath…  I failed Lucilla.  What kind of man does that make me?  If you choose to never respond after this letter, I understand. I just–there’s something in the way your words bring me comfort, puts me at ease, gives me a sense of relief… Anyway, I must go now. Until we speak again, Rose.  Best wishes,  Marcus 

He folds his letter and puts it back in the envelope, ensuring this time that he passes it along to the chambermaid. 

Later that night, you come home after having spent dinner with Antonia and Giovanni. You’re welcomed with the sight of the envelope sitting neatly on your dining table. You set your things down immediately and grab the envelope, taking the letter out and sitting down on the couch. 

Your heart breaks slowly as you read Marcus’s letter. You can feel his guilt through the words on the page and when he confirms the year he’s living in, it all but crushes you. This is a man that you’re slowly developing a friendship with and you know that it isn’t going to last long. 

As you continue to read his letter, you feel tears sting your eyes. So, you don’t hesitate to begin writing your response back to him. 

Dear Marcus,  With you, I’m starting to believe in fate. Would you believe me if I said the year I live in is 2025? I’m not sure how to explain how we’re able to exchange letters from different time periods, but… here we are. It’s possible. I just don’t have an explanation for it.  I can assure you that I am no longer in a relationship with that man and I am very much far from him. I moved to Rome about a month ago and I love it here. I can see the Colosseum from my balcony.  I’m sorry that the next few days will be difficult. I can’t imagine the pain that you’re feeling–losing the one person you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with. Lucilla sounded like a great woman, Marcus. I know saying sorry doesn’t change anything, but I don’t know if there’s even anything I can say to make things better.  I’m sure Lucilla knew… I’m sure she knew that you did your best to get to her. I’m sure she knew that you wanted to be there with her…  And you know, maybe you don’t have to say goodbye. The ones we love don’t ever really leave us, do they? We continue living to keep their memory alive.  You didn’t fail, Marcus. Sometimes, things happen out of our control. Not being there for her at the end isn’t a reflection of who you are as a person, or as a husband. I’m willing to bet that if you had it your way, you’d have been there for her. Maybe wherever you were… you wouldn’t have gone if you had a choice.  Finally, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, sorry.  I hope the next few days give you some closure, Marcus, and when you’re ready, I’ll be right here waiting.  Best wishes,  Rose 

You take his letter and put it on the pile you’ve collected before you place your reply back into the envelope. You turn your back for a moment to grab a glass of water and when you turn back around, the envelope is gone. 

Marcus awakes that morning to the sight of the envelope. He can’t explain how it just vanishes and reappears out of thin air on his desk. He pulls your letter out of the envelope and reads what you have written. 

2025? Surely, that’s a lie. There is no way he’s exchanging letters with someone centuries into the future. He has to wonder if this is some sort of joke, if maybe the emperors put someone up to this. As he continues reading though, he feels tears sting his eyes, threatening to spill over. Your words–it provides a sensation of warmth that blossoms in his chest. He wants to believe you, wants to believe that he’s a good man. 

Marcus rereads your last sentence repeatedly, commits it to memory as he begins thinking of what he has to do today. 

I’ll be right here waiting. 

He doesn’t have time at the moment to write you back, so he keeps the envelope and letter separate from each other. He takes one last look at your letter before he leaves his chamber. 

The next few days, you’re anticipating a response from Marcus. He did warn you that he wouldn’t write back until he’s able, but you still can’t help the disappointment you feel when the envelope doesn’t appear for the next few days. Antonia and Giovanni notice a change in your demeanor since you’ve been receiving the letters–they notice the excitement in your eyes, a much freer spirit, but you tell them it’s because you’re finally feeling more and more comfortable here in Rome. 

You learn more about Marcus through your research and you try to find someone who can explain the phenomenon that you’re experiencing. How is it possible that you’re communicating with a man from a different time period? Sure, there are theories about time travel but that never felt real to you. 

At the end of the week, you’re already getting anxious. It’s been four days since Marcus’s letter. You have to wonder what he’s doing, how he’s doing. You know how his life ends, and you have to wonder what would happen if you told him. That would change so many things, right? It would not only change history, but it would ultimately change the trajectory of how the world is now. 

On the fifth day, Marcus is exhausted. Saying goodbye to Lucilla had only fueled his anger for the emperors. He has a plan in place and he knows what end he will meet if he gets caught, but at this point, he has nothing else to lose. 

After he buries Lucilla, he finds some time to ask around if anyone knew a woman named Rose. When someone would respond with a nod, there’s a flutter of excitement that he feels in the pit of his stomach but he’s left disappointed every time. Every Rose he’s met so far has no idea of the letters and he’s starting to believe that maybe you do live in the future–centuries into the future. It leaves him with an unsettling sensation in his chest, a sad reality that there’s a likely possibility that Marcus will never get to meet you. 

Now, he finally has some time alone. So, Marcus sits at his desk, rereads your letter once more before he takes his usual paper and quill out to begin writing a response to you. 

Dear Rose,  I am sorry for the delay in my response. The last five days have been very difficult for me, but every time I saw a rose… I thought of you and it brought me a lot of comfort that I did not realize I needed.  I want to express my gratitude to you, Rose. Your last letter–I kept it close to me at all times during the last few days here. Somehow, knowing that you’re waiting for me helped me get through each day… and knowing that I get to write to you again helped me through the difficult moments I endured. Ad Maiora, I suppose. Towards greater things… and I think that greater thing is you.  I buried Lucilla yesterday. She still looked so beautiful, but she looked… peaceful. She endured a lot of hardship in her life and there is some comfort that I feel knowing she’s no longer in pain. She no longer needs to fight… and I believe you are right. The ones we love do not ever leave us. We keep their memory alive and Lucilla will always hold a special place in my heart.  I must be completely honest with you, Rose. I am the General of the Roman army. I have a lot of blood on my hands… all for the glory of Rome, but you are right. If I had a choice, I would have been by Lucilla’s side from the start. I am conflicted… It is difficult to fight for this version of Rome. So much bloodshed, so many lives lost… all for nothing. I should not be writing this–it is certainly punishable, but I am exhausted, Rose.  If you do live in 2025–which does not seem possible–how does Rome look like then? You say you moved to Rome. Are you happy here? I also tried to look for you. Asked around about you, but I did not get anywhere. There isn’t anyone by the name of Rose that knows about these letters. Do you really live in 2025?  Lastly, tell me more about you. I want to spend as much time as I have getting to know you, Rose. I hope that is okay.  Best wishes,  Marcus 

He folds his response and places it into the envelope. Right before his eyes, it suddenly vanishes and Marcus is sure that he must be hallucinating. He’s exhausted and hasn’t had much sleep since he’s gotten back, but he has no other explanation for it. 

You awake the following morning to see the envelope on your coffee table. Excitement fills your veins and you quickly walk over to the envelope, carefully taking the familiar piece of a paper out. You begin to realize the letters you have begun exchanging with Marcus are becoming longer and longer–it brings a smile to your face and heat rising in your cheeks. 

You sit on the couch, pull your legs underneath you and grab the blanket to drape over your lap as you finally read Marcus’s letter. He thought of you–the last five days and he thought of you. When he finally tells you the truth about who he is, you feel a sense of relief. You had been afraid that you’d accidentally let it slip that you know who he is, despite already telling him that you live in the future. 

The last sentence in his letter brings you back to reality. You feel the pit in your stomach drop at the realization that this is as far as you’ll ever get with him. Sooner or later, this letters will end but you can’t help the feelings you’ve begun to develop for a man you will never meet. 

I want to spend as much time as I have getting to know you, Rose. 

It’s almost like he knows what will happen to himself–maybe he knows that the plan he eventually comes up with is a death sentence once the emperors find out. 

You know you shouldn’t get attached, but you get your notebook and pen and write back to him anyway. 

Dear Marcus,  I must say, it’s such a relief to hear from you. I wish I could have been there for you, with you… supporting you. If I’m being honest, it’s hard to hear that you’re going through a difficult time. Makes me want to go back into time and pull you into a hug. Do you think that’s possible? Time travel?  You sure know how to make a girl feel special, don’t you? You make me blush sometimes with the things you say. Are you sure you’re real? A lot of the men here certainly don’t talk like you do–you can definitely teach them a thing or two.  I'm starting to think our saying is Ad Maiora, isn’t it? Moving to Rome led me toward a greater thing… one after the other, and it finally led me to you. I’d say that’s fate, wouldn’t you?  And General Marcus Acacius–sounds so formal, so official. You must be very important, aren’t you? Like I said, I wish I could pull you into a hug. I hope, at least, knowing that I’m here to listen is enough though. Also, if talking about this is punishable, then maybe we should be careful. I don’t want anything to happen to you… Yes, I live in the year 2025. I’d be surprised if someone lied to you and said they knew about the letters we’ve been exchanging. Rome is… different than what you’re used to. There are no emperors. The colosseum is no longer in use–there aren’t anymore gladiators. I’ll attach a photograph of me and my balcony, maybe it’ll help you believe me.  Well, what do you want to know? I’m an open book, Marcus. Ask away.  Can’t wait to hear from you again. I have missed you.  Love,  Rose 

You sign the letter without thinking, but you don’t bother to change it or rewrite it after you realize the word you used. You hope it isn’t too forward or too insensitive. You grab your Polaroid camera and quickly walk out to your balcony. You face the camera to yourself and smile, pressing the button to take the picture. Once it develops, you go back inside and fold your letter. After a few minutes, the Polaroid develops and you look down. It’s a good picture and gives a good view of the colosseum in the background. 

Placing the letter and the Polaroid into the envelope, you close it and surprisingly see the envelope disappear. 

“So it is real,” you whisper to yourself, a smile lining your lips as you already begin counting down the time before you receive a reply from Marcus. 

Later that same night, Marcus sees the envelope on his desk as he gets ready for bed. He sits down instantly at his desk and uses his candle to illuminate your writing. 

But he sees the Polaroid and takes it out of the envelope. Marcus lets out a quiet breath when he sees you. He isn’t sure what exactly he’s holding or how this managed to capture a realistic photograph of you but he’s distracted by your beauty to even notice the colosseum in the back. He’s still reeling over Lucilla’s death, but there’s something in the way your smile and your bright eyes somehow puts him at ease. 

“My lady,” he mumbles. “Lucilla, if you can hear me, please forgive me. This woman–She is helping me through this, through your loss.” Marcus shuts his eyes, guilt and desire mixing together. Guilt because he’s still dealing with the grief of losing Lucilla, and desire because you are absolutely stunning. Marcus isn’t even surprised–this is exactly how he pictured you when you began exchanging letters with him. 

Marcus turns his gaze to your letter, but his eyes flicker to your picture repeatedly. You really do live in the future and you will always be so out of reach. 

Then, he sees the word you sign your letter with. A warmth washes over him. His lips curl upwards just slightly and he begins to write. 

Dear Rose,  This–This picture, it is you, yes? I cannot explain how something like this exists, so it must be true that you do live in the future. So far into the future.  But you are breathtaking, Rose. Absolutely beautiful. Your smile and your eyes… there’s a kindness and warmth to them. The man you had been in a relationship with before truly did not realize what he had because any man would be lucky to have you.  The colosseum in your photograph–it looks old. If what you say is true, no gladiators and no emperors, then can I ask… is your world a better place than what it is here? I think I will dream of this, of you, of a different life. This is not to say the life I currently have or have led is not great, but a man can still dream, right?  A hug from you sounds very nice. I imagine that I would feel even more at peace with my arms around you. I am not too sure about time travel, but if these letters are any proof of what’s possible, then maybe time traveling is too. Though, if anyone is doing the time traveling, I would rather it be me. I do not want you to be in this time period here, Rose. I do not want you to be around such men because there are bad men here too. Maybe more worse here than there.  If I may be honest… I cannot stop looking at you. I believe I’m going to keep this very close to me from now on. I am sorry that I cannot provide the same type of picture of myself–we do not have this here… but maybe I can think of something else…  An open book, hm? Well, I know your favorite flower. I know that you are starting fresh here in Rome… I suppose I should ask what do you like to do then? If you are living in the future, what is there to do?  I am unsure if you have experienced this yet, but this envelope… it seems to be the reason why we are able to exchange letters. It vanished before my eyes the other day, Rose. I cannot explain how or why that happened, but maybe this is fate. Exchanging letters across time sounds impossible, but for some reason, the Gods wanted us to meet. That sounds like fate to me.  I will wait for your next letter, Rose, and I have missed you too.  Until then.  Love,  Marcus

He quickly folds the piece of paper and gently slides it into the envelope, not bothering to wait for it to disappear because his attention is pulled to your photograph. He brushes his thumb across it gently–wishing you were here. 

The following morning, you’re awake far too early but excitement fills your entire body when you see the envelope sitting on your dining table. You make a cup of coffee and open it, having grown accustomed to Marcus’s neat cursive. You can feel the heat rise in your cheeks when he compliments you, can feel the butterflies in your tummy. 

I think I will dream of this, of you, of a different life. 

You feel your heart tug just a little–the harsh truth that you will never get to meet him becomes more and more real as you continue to exchange letters with him. 

He’s seen it too–the envelope disappearing without a trace. You can’t explain how it’s possible and there is a part of you that no longer wants one. Time travel–there isn’t a way that’s possible and even if it was, how would it even work? 

You grab your notebook and quickly begin writing to him, setting your cup of coffee down. You lift the cup away from the paper, taking note that it left a coffee-stained circle at the top corner of the page. 

Dear Marcus,  You are very sweet… I’m sure there are more pretty women there. I’m just… me.  But Rome… it’s beautiful here. It’s always been a place I wanted to visit. I never did think I would end up moving here and now, I can’t even imagine ever leaving.  Considering your time period, I would say the world now is much better. I think you would like it… it might take some getting used to–it’s so very crowded here, but I think you would like it. I suppose that’s all we will have, isn’t it? Dreaming of a different life… Or maybe I’ll learn how to time travel and bring you here.  I love the beach. I love the water, the sunsets… It’s calming, almost peaceful to me. There’s just something about the sounds of the waves, the feel of the water, the sight of the sky that just puts me at ease. The beach was the one place that I felt like I could get away from everything. It became my safe haven, my safe place…  What about you? General Marcus Acacius–what do you like to do? I have also seen this envelope just disappear. I don’t have an explanation for it either, but maybe you’re right. Maybe there is a reason why we’re able to communicate across time. Do you think we’ll ever get the chance to meet face to face? You know, if I learn time travel…  Sometimes, when I go to bed, I pray that I dream of you. I think it’s the closest I can get to ever meeting you. I imagine what you would look like, what your voice would sound like… How it would feel like to be in your arms. I would assume I’d feel like how I would if I were at the beach–safe, calm, peaceful.  If by some miracle I’m able to time travel, may I come visit you instead? I think it would be much easier for me to go back in time rather than you come here. Some things might change if you were to leave your time period and come to mine… Looking forward to your next letter, Marcus. Love,  Rose

You fold your letter and place it in the envelope, already counting down the hours until you receive Marcus’s reply.

Marcus finally sits at his table after an exhausting day at the colosseum. He doesn’t find the violence entertaining like everyone else. It’s unnecessary and he wants no part of it, but he has to put on a facade for the emperors. He still plans on speaking with the senate, to conjure up a plan to somehow overthrow Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla. 

However, he’s conflicted with so many emotions. The grief and loss he feels over Lucilla lingers in his chest, but he feels hopeful–excited whenever he sees the envelope on his desk. If he goes through with his plan and he ends up getting caught, Marcus knows what the consequence will be. He knows that it’s ultimately a death sentence if the emperors find out, but his mind drifts to you whenever he thinks about what his end might be. 

His eyes drift to your picture on his desk, a small smile curling his lips. He dreamt of you last night, after he had written his response to you. He dreamt that he was in your world, somehow lying in a bed with you in his arms. It was the first time since losing Lucilla that he had woken up with a feeling of ease–just dreaming about you brought him that sense of peace. 

Marcus takes your letter out and reads it with a smile. Once he finishes reading, he begins writing back to you. 

Dear Rose,  I dreamt of you last night. The Gods answered me and I dreamt of you. I dreamt that I was in your world, sitting on that balcony in the picture I received from you. I have this image of you–smiling and laughing–ingrained in my mind. It puts me at ease. Talking with you has been my safe haven, I suppose. Things have been difficult here ever since I got back and it’s lonely without Lucilla. I am sorry to bring her up.  These letters have been able to get me through each day. Your picture, too. Lately, I have been dreaming of a different life than the one I am living. I have been a soldier for most of my life, Rose. I do not think there’s a day that has gone by where I have not fought… And it is tiring. The beach sounds like a great place to just get away from it all, I agree. Here, though, I like to go to the gardens. More so now than before. I am usually surrounded by roses and it makes me feel closer to you.  I am ready to retire, Rose. I am ready to spend the rest of my days in quiet–possibly far, far away from Rome. Maybe near a beach, hm? That would certainly be another place where I can be reminded of you.  I will pray to the Gods for a miracle that we get to meet one day. I didn’t think it would be possible to exchange letters with someone from a different time, so maybe being able to meet face to face may not seem so out of reach… I imagine that I would feel safe and calm with you near too.  Your beauty, your words… The way you have made me feel… It all reminds me of Lucilla, but in your own way. I am a man of honor, Rose, and Lucilla will always have a piece of my heart, but… you have become the reason why I am able to get up every morning. I look forward to the next time I see this envelope because it means I get to talk with you.  Maybe tonight, we can meet in each other’s dreams, Rose.  Until then, my lady.  Love,  Marcus

Days turn into weeks and your letters with Marcus become more and more frequent. You’ve tried to teach yourself the theories of time travel, but you’re just as confused as when you first started. The more you talk with Marcus, the more you begin to realize the magnitude of your feelings for him. You try to tell yourself that developing feelings for a man you won’t ever meet–a man who’s already dead–is only going to set you up for heartbreak. 

But despite knowing how this might end, you still exchange letters with him anyway. 

Marcus is set to meet with the Senate tomorrow and he knows that if he gets caught, it will be his death sentence. There won’t be any way that he will be able to get out of it. He holds onto your letters–and especially your picture–when the days and weeks become more difficult for him. Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla require his presence at the colosseum and Marcus finds it increasingly exhausting to sit there and feign interest. 

When he gets back to his chambers every day, the envelope is there waiting for him. He reads your letters repeatedly before he can even write a response. The way you talk about your world–it helps him escape his reality. He begins to realize just how deeply he feels for you and it saddens him because despite how strongly he feels, Marcus knows that you two may never get the chance to meet. 

Later that night, you see the envelope and feel the excitement rush through you. However, once you open the letter and begin reading the words on the page, you feel your heart drop–tears building at the corners of your eyes. This feels almost like a goodbye…

Dear Rose,  I am set to meet with the Senate tomorrow. In secret. I realize that this might be the last letter I will ever write to you, but I will be praying to the Gods that it won’t be, but if it is… I wanted to write to you one last time.  You have given me hope, have made me feel alive when I had lost everything. Coming back to Rome after Numidia, after losing Lucilla–I could not find the will to live, but then I received your first letter. It was fate. You saved me, Rose. You continue to save me.  I wish I could see you. I wish I could touch you. I wish I could hold you. I know I said in a previous letter that I would want to spend the rest of my days in quiet… but I think that has changed.  If I had it my way, I would spend the rest of my days with you. I imagine what my life would be like with you. I imagine a lot of laughter. I imagine that we would be at the beach or maybe at the garden and we would have plenty of meaningful conversations. I imagine my mornings would be one of my favorite times of the day because I would get to wake up every morning with you by my side.  If this is the last time I get to speak with you, just know that you now also have a piece of my heart, Rose. I will carry your photograph with me forever. I will hold onto the conversations we’ve had and the letters we’ve exchanged.  If I do not make it… please remember that you deserve all of the good things in the world. You deserve to always be happy. You deserve to live your life the way you want. You deserve to be with someone who will cherish the very ground you walk on because you deserve nothing less.  When I sleep tonight, I will dream of you… like I always do, Rose.  Yours forever,  Marcus

You know what he means when he says he’s going to speak with the Senate tomorrow. You’ve read what will happen–after all, you know exactly how history plays out after having researched the history of Ancient Rome and Marcus. 

You can feel your heart breaking–the ache in your chest beginning to throb almost painfully. You know how Marcus’s story ends, but you can’t let him go. You had been hesitant before–altering history–but you have to tell him. You may never get to meet him, but you don’t want this to be the end. 

Grabbing your notebook, you begin to write your response. Almost fifteen minutes later, you fold it in half and place it inside the envelope, watching it disappear yet again before your eyes. 

Marcus awakes that morning with a knot in his stomach–his eyes glance over at your photo before he catches the envelope. He sits up from bed and walks towards his desk, pulling out your letter and reading it carefully.

Dear Marcus,  Don’t. Your last letter feels like a goodbye, and I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to say goodbye, not yet… Not ever. I shouldn’t be telling you this because I’m sure it’s going to alter my own reality, but I don’t care. I don’t want to let you go.  You’re going to get caught. No matter how many times you’ve rehearsed it in your mind, you will be caught. Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla will find out and they–they will not take it lightly. They will make you fight in the colosseum and that is where you will die. I know how your story ends and yet, I made a choice to continue exchanging letters with you. I knew that our story would only end in heartbreak, but maybe… Maybe there’s still a chance for us.  I am begging you, Marcus… Please do not do it. Don’t go to the Senate. Just–Just leave Rome. Live the rest of your days in quiet–away from war, away from the bloodshed, away from the emperors. You no longer need to fight and I understand… I understand that you made a promise to Lucilla, to yourself, but I cannot lose you and maybe this makes me selfish, but– You saved me too, Marcus.  I will spend the rest of my days figuring out how to transcend time… to find a way where you and I can finally meet. Fate brought us together, right? We will figure this out. I will figure this out.  This is not the end of your story, Marcus Acacius. Do you understand me? And this certainly isn’t the end of ours. At the end of the day, we still have a choice… If you decide to still go through with it, then I will understand. I know you are a man of honor, Marcus. And if you do decide that you will go to the Senate tonight, then I hope you know how deeply I feel for you too. I didn’t think I would ever love again, but you… You nestled your way into my heart and made a home there. I go to sleep dreaming of you. When I wake up, you are the first person I think of.  I love you, Marcus.  Yours forever,  Rose

He sits at the edge of his bed, rereading your letter over and over and over again. You know how his story ends and you know exactly what will happen when he goes to meet with the Senate tonight. He should have known that you’d be aware of his history–you live in the future after all. 

Marcus isn’t afraid to die–in fact, it’s something that he’s come to terms with a long time ago, but for once, he doesn’t want this to end yet. He doesn’t want to let you go either and maybe, maybe you two will never meet, but he would rather die an old man exchanging letters with you. 

He reads the last sentence repeatedly and he can’t help the way the words stir something in him–the butterflies he feels in the pit of his stomach, his heart beating faster–you love him. 

Marcus knows what he needs to do now. 

The rest of the day seems to drag on–the minutes trickling by ever so slowly. Even at work, you can’t concentrate. Antonia and Giovanni pick up on your distraction, but you reassure them with a fake smile and tell them that you’d just rather spend the night alone. 

You know it was selfish to tell Marcus the truth, to practically beg him to stay, but you couldn’t imagine continuing to live your life with the possibility that you could save his life. You had only been exchanging letters with him for a little over a month, but you couldn’t help the feelings that you had begun to develop for him. The way your heart races faster when you see the envelope, or the way your stomach flips when you read his letters. 

In your free time, you had been trying to learn how to time travel. It seemed almost impossible, but you didn’t want to quit. You couldn’t explain how you’re able to exchange letters with someone who lives centuries in the past–and if that was possible, then surely it was possible to time travel. 

Somehow. 

You enter your apartment later that night–you can feel the nerves settle in the pit of your stomach when you slowly open the door. You can hear your heart beating in your ears, heart rate slowly picking up when your eyes scan the dining table.

No letter. 

Your stomach drops, so you close the door and then move your gaze to the coffee table. 

Nothing.

Tears begin to pool at the corner of your eyes and you realize that Marcus had made his choice. You sit on your couch, bring your legs to your chest and cry into it. The sob builds and builds until you let out a quiet whimper, tears now streaming down your face. 

He was gone. 

Forever.

A week later and you finally get the courage to go back to work. When at work, you fake a smile–feign happiness, but when you get back home, you cry yourself to sleep. 

Antonia and Giovanni leave you dinner at your front door, but you don’t bother to open it. You aren’t hungry–you haven’t had an appetite since Marcus’s last letter. You wonder if he ever received your letter and if he did, did he read it? 

And if he did read it, what went through his mind? 

And when you admitted that you loved him, did that scare him away? 

When you open your front door later that night, you set your things down and begin walking into the living room until you finally see it.

The envelope. 

Your heart leaps out of your chest. 

You waste no time in opening the envelope, quickly taking out the letter and breathing out a sigh of relief when you see his familiar cursive writing. 

Dear Rose,  I am sorry that I have not written back to you. I had a change of plans after your last letter and had to strategically plan how I would be able to execute it.  I am no longer in Rome. You were right–I no longer need to fight. I faked my death–with the help of some trusting men of mine–and am far away from that place.  I am living the rest of my days in the quiet–I now live in a small village where no one is familiar with who I am or what I have done. It is almost like a fresh start–a chance for me to live a different life… a life that I might have chosen from the beginning if I had the choice.  I want to thank you, Rose. For telling me the truth, for warning me. I am much happier now than I have ever been, and I am more than ready to spend the rest of my days with you. Traveling to this village was not easy, but you gave me the strength–like you always do–to keep going.  I love you, Rose. I wanted to tell you that once I was safe–once I was finally settled in. Ad Maiora, right? Towards greater things... So, my lady, what do you say? Shall we continue our story together and maybe–one day–finally meet? Yours forever, Marcus

the end...?

[hvnlygrl]

Hiiii! Ok I want to start off by saying I love love love your work! Can you write a blurb about reader flirting with JJ to make bf!Rafe mad bc she wants his attention and wants him to take her home and give it to her rough

flirt.

pairing — rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count — 0.6k

warning — smut! minors dni

synopsis — when rafe isn’t giving you enough attention at a party, you find a way to get it yourself, even if that means going to jj maybank for it…

notes — yes absolutely yall know i love a good spicy!rafe fic hehe :) thank u smm omg ur too kind and thank u a million for the request 💌you can read a similar one-shot that i’ve written here!

join my follower celebration — until feb. 3rd!

you and rafe had gotten into a brief, meaningless argument on the way to the party, and he was making it his mission to ignore you until you learned your lesson.

you recognized his petty plan and immediately began devising your own plan, one that was sure to get you the attention you craved from the cameron boy.

the two of you walked in together, however you each went in separate directions with him heading toward kelce and topper and you going straight for the booze. you poured yourself two shots, making sure to hold direct eye contact with rafe as you downed them both. then you smiled, winked and walked over to your favorite group of pogues.

rafe listened to kelce drone on and on about his new girlfriend, eyes watching you curiously to see what type of shenanigans you were about to get yourself into. he couldn’t help the fire that began bubbling in his chest when he watched you walk up to jj maybank.

you struck a conversation with the blonde immediately upon arriving at the group.

“hey, jj!” you made sure to be animated enough that rafe would notice, but not so animated that jj would be put off or turned on.

“what’s up, y/n?” he raises a curious brow at you as he notices the lack of a certain kook by your side. “where’s rafe?”

“talking with kelce and topper,” you shrug innocently, “i need a favor…”

jj immediately picks up on the situation, “you want me to fake flirt with you to piss rafe off, right?”

“oh my god, how’d you know?”

he winks at you before moving a little closer, leaning down to whisper into your ear, “because he’s already staring at me like he wants to kill me.”

you laugh, making sure to throw your head back, letting your hand go up to very lightly touch his forearm. you’re sure not to look back at rafe, needing the situation to look as legit as possible.

rafe doesn’t bother to excuse himself from the conversation, simply just walking away from topper and kelce and heads straight to you.

jj sees him b-lining to you, deciding to give you a heads up. “bogey, twelve-o’clock.”

you nod, “thanks, jj, i owe you one!”

“anytime,” he huffs out a laugh, “good luck, y/n.”

rafe grabs the top of your bicep without saying a word, simply dragging you up to the bathroom and locking the door behind you.

“what’s up, rafey?” you ask innocently.

he pins you up against the wall, “you think you’re cute?”

“i think i’m adorable,” you wink at him, “you think i’m cute?”

he rolls his eyes at you, “you are so in for it when we get home.”

“aw,” you frown before leaning up to whisper in his ear, “i was hoping i was in for it now, baby.”

he feels himself growing hard in his shorts, his breathing growing shorter and shorter. “oh yea? you sure you can stay quiet for me?”

you nod quickly, biting at your lip, “i’m sure you can keep me quiet.”

rafe eyes you up and down, contemplating for just a second. you opted to wear a cute (and very short) dress to the party.

“take your panties off and bend over the counter,” he commands as he unbuckles his belt and drops his shorts, his hand gripping his hard cock.

you follow the instructions, one hand holding the panties out for him to do whatever he wants with them. he grabs them from your hand and shoves them in your mouth, “tap the counter twice if you want me to stop.”

you nod, heart beating loudly as you feel his hands make their way up the insides of your thighs.

you’re in for a long night.

-> back to masterlist.

[perdidosbucky-yyo]

𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛

Pairing: Exotic Dancer!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader (no mention of gender or ethnicity)

Summary: Hi, you've reached [your name]. I can't come to the phone right now, please leave a message after the beep!

w/c: 3.7k

warnings: cheating (on reader), lots of cursing, smoking, heavy drinking, weed smoking, body image issues (I'm sorry), this is a smutty fic (but there’s no smut), dry humping. Please let me know if I missed anything <3

a/n: This is the first fic I've posted in years lmao, I'm a bit rusty, but omfg I enjoyed writing this so much, it's very self-indulgent hehe I hope you love it just as much as I do.

this is not beta'd, any and all mistakes are my own.

Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply encouraged🥺

7:51 PM

“Baby please, You know I’m an idiot…she means nothing” Jake whined through the phone. 

As of 5 hours ago, he became your ex but kept on calling you, each call pleading for your forgiveness and saying the same stupid excuse “I felt you pulling away, what was I supp-”

Before you could interrupt him yourself, your best friend and roommate took your phone “Listen closely you little shit, if you don’t stop calling I’ll personally chop off your balls, fry’em up and feed them to your mother in a fucking salad… it’s Wanda by the way” she huffs as she hands you back the phone, “Colorful” you grimace.

Shoving you inside the car, with you and Wanda on the back, Bruce behind the wheel and Tony as co-pilot, “Why do you even answer his calls?” Tony asks while Wanda lights up a Marlboro, and gives you a drag “Because I want to tell him to go fuck himself… I- I just can’t seem to find the right words”, “That seems right” Wanda quips and you roll your eyes, “Don’t worry you’ll find the words when the time’s right” Bruce adds, “Dr. Banner is right, tonight is all about getting shit-faced” Tony adds.

You all clap and turn up the volume to the perfect song “I don’t wanna hear, I don’t wanna know” Wanda sings, the wind on her face, while Bruce shouts “WE LOVE YOU MADONNA”. 

They were right, fuck Jack, tonight you wanted to let go, you weren’t one for parties or clubbing but you couldn’t stay at home feeling sorry for yourself, partying with your friends seemed like the perfect distraction “LET’S FUCKING GO” you shouted at the top of your lungs.

9:05 PM

“The Hush-Hush Hideaway?” you laughed as you finished your first beer after two cherry vodka shots, sounds like a place where 50 year olds would come to have an affair, “Alright, alright before you keep on talking trash, there is more eye to meet” Tony argues, to that Wanda snorts “are you seriously drunk right now? after three piña coladas?”, Bruce laughs “they’re stronger than they look” Tony defends himself as he stands up, signaling you all to head to the dance floor.

You honestly loved the place, the lighting was incredible, the atmosphere was hot pink with hints of dark red and deep purple, the ceiling was decorated with hundreds of disco balls shining down on you, the bar had tables so crystalline and so red, it looked like solidified blood,  each one surrounded by the comfiest leather couches. There was also the dance floor which you were dancing on now, it had the perfect stage for dancers or any kind of show, the whole place had the perfect mix of chic and urban.

10:39 PM

“This round’s on me” Tony shouts over the loud music as he hands you what would probably be your 5th drink, stumbling around as you danced to a song that suddenly became your favorite, as you downed the liquid gold you took Tony’s hand and started giving him a lap dance of some sorts which made everyone laugh along with you. 

And then everything went pitch black, for 5 seconds the music was over, lights were out, for a moment you thought you passed out but then a huge white light shone straight into the middle of the stage, “Girls Gays and Theys!” a deep voice over the microphone started, “is this a gay bar?” Bruce genuinely chimed in, making you giggle.

“Tonight we encourage you to let that wild side of yours out! Please give a warm welcome to The White Wolf” the voice cheered with excitement and the crowd roared and cheered back, “he must be really good looking” you sassed, and in that moment, red ropes descended.

Not a second later a man dressed in a kevlar suit swirled down as if swimming in the red fabric, wrapping himself in a cocoon in the air so the next second he rolled down to the stage, the top of his leathery suit gone, leaving his gorgeous toned abdomen exposed making the crowd go wild. The lights enhanced his beautiful body. “D-does he have glitter on?!” Tony shouted in awe, everyone absolutely going crazy over this tall, brown-haired, thick oh so fucking thick specimen.

On the other hand, you were finding breathing a difficult task, especially because his eyes were trained on yours, maybe it was the several drinks in your system or the empowering song that heightened everything, but his stare was intense, the ice blue of his eyes chilled your spine and for a moment you thought he was going to stop the show, come down and rip your clothes off… yeah you definitely felt tipsy now.

This man knew the power he held, not only was he drop-dead gorgeous, he had autonomy of every nerve and every muscle on his body, your heart and pussy were practically pulsing as you watched him dance. The magic was broken when you felt your phone ring in your pocket, taking it out, you saw it was Jake calling AGAIN, you knew your friends would tell you not to pick up, but part of you wanted to hear him out and scream at him, you didn’t know which one you were going to do.

Leaving the dance floor and heading to the bathrooms where you hoped it’d be quieter, you swipe to the green bubble “Please please forgive me” is the first thing the man says, making you sigh in frustration “S-top stop saying you’re sorry” but it’s like talking to a wall, you’re not even sure he heard you because he just keeps on whining. 

??:??

You don’t know how much time you spent listening to him in the bathroom but eventually, you give up and hang up on him, splashing some fresh water in your neck you exit the room and bump into a rock-hard wall, but then unexpectedly the wall starts talking and you think maybe it’s not a wall.

“it was rude to bail” a grave voice rumbles in your ear through all of the noise, looking up you see it’s the white wolf, making you almost choke on air, but you were quick enough to react and raise an eyebrow in response “sorry?”.

Without even noticing, the man had cornered you into a wall “Don’t apologize, you can make it up to me” he said with a wild smile, “oh he’s good” you thought, then he looked at you as if he read your mind, “you look like someone in desperate need to have some fun… let me give you a hand” he whispered, his confidence made you forget he was a stranger, and oddly enough it felt like you knew him perfectly, the thought of spending your night with him made you shudder.

Taking out what looked like a big fat blunt from one of his pockets, he dragged the little bundle of joy from your exposed thighs, up your arms, slowly passing through your neck, and finally grazing your soft lips, his eyes never once leaving yours, he leaned in and the smell of cedarwood with a touch of french vanilla made your eyes roll.

Man, you’re really not keeping your cool, but he’s too beautiful for you to care, you might as well pucker your lips, but then he backs away, taking your hand and leading you to the backdoor between the kitchens. The sound of music and people dancing start to disappear until it’s muffled, “are we allowed in here?” you laugh as he lights up the joint and takes a big gulp, your heart pounds with excitement, this is exactly what you needed.

Your inner demons whispered that he really wasn’t interested in you, he looked like he was sculptured by frigging Michelangelo, he’d never want to be with someone as big as you, plus you felt sweaty from dancing most of the night, but honestly, it was more about the nerves you felt around him, but just as easy as the negative thoughts came, he batted them away with a single kiss to your cheek, near enough to the corner of your lips “lost you there for a sec” he teased.

As he handed you the joint, you took it with hesitance, “I usually don’t take marihuana from strangers, you got a name or does everyone call you the white wolf?” you teased, carefully eyeing him, realizing that he was still shirtless unconsciously making you bite your lip.

A lazy smile spread on his face “Waddaya mean you don’t know me? Pfft I’m your latest conquest”, it threw you off but he looked so sincere it made the butterflies in your stomach dance, “I’m Bucky” he laughed, he was so at ease with that pretty smile you couldn’t do anything but swoon.

Taking a drag of the blunt you breathe out the smoke through your nose as you offer him your name in return,  not wasting a second he repeats it, slowly, maybe he was high but it seemed as though he enjoyed the sound of your name on his tongue, he savored it, your legs pressed against each other and you had to take another drag so not to seem desperate as you were for him.

He might be a stranger but deep down you felt unbelievable attraction, in less than 10 minutes of knowing him he made you feel powerful, and free, like maybe in a past life or somethin’ he was your soulmate… Pfft, you wanted to crack up at your own thoughts, somehow Bucky knew and started laughing, slowly leaning into you and crashing his lips with yours, it was sloppy but fuck you’d never been kissed like that, it was passionate, you felt wanted, right then and there you were ready and willing to let him swoop you off your feet.

12:59 AM 

Bucky was showing you his best moves, his calloused hands gripped and groped your body as you both swayed your hips against each other perfectly in sync.

He was so smooth, the fogginess of the joint rumbled through your body, each touch, every one of his strokes felt like a wave, you were floating in a sea of music and his scent, nothing was wrong with the world, nothing could harm you because he was right behind you, worshipping you, telling you how he loved the feel of every roll and every curve, you couldn’t help but smile and he couldn’t help but kiss that beautiful smile.

Not long after your friends found you and you introduced them to the dancer who blew their minds, some of his friends joined you, and not long after you were the life of the party, shots and blunts came pouring, and just like you wanted you became one with bucky, you didn’t know where you began or where he ended, pain and misery were a strange and unknown concept tonight.

1:55 AM

Wanda had to drag you away from Bucky to chat with you a bit, she couldn’t hide that grin even if she tried “Dude I don’t even recognize you right now” you laugh with her knowing very well what she means, squeezing her wrist you stop the urge to squeal, “I don’t know how this happened but fuck he’s just so pretty I wanna cry” you both giggle, understanding the Rachel Green reference. 

Turning to see Bucky you caught him already watching you, it looked like he was chatting with his friends but he wouldn’t look away from you, you realized he was waiting for you, and honestly you were eager to return to his embrace and intoxicating scent “Fuck Jack, you have men waiting in line” Wanda practically shouts as she pushes you back to the dance floor.

2:12 AM

After a while your social battery was low and you needed a break, so now you leaned against the wall in the back alley of the bar, a cigarette lit, resting on your fingertips as you recalled the events that brought you here tonight.

You didn’t blame Wanda for reminding you of Jake and what he did, after all, she was just hyping you, but now your mind was plagued, you memorized with detail how you found them, as some sort of self-punishment, why? you didn’t know, after years of therapy, you were still trying to unlearn self-deprecating thoughts that your family and society shoved in your face.

Jake cheating on you with a leggy blonde who was quite literally a Victoria's Secret model was a kick to your stomach, it made you realize that maybe every bad thought you had about yourself was true, and that was terrifying… 

Realizing that the cigarette burned itself out, you stepped on it, but before you could come back inside Bucky opened the door and grinned “There you are, was worried I spooked ya”, to that you chuckled, somehow the laws of social battery didn’t apply to the handsome trapeze dancer “Never”.

Stepping outside and standing next to you, he takes your hand and starts playing with your fingers “What’s got my sweet doll so down?”, you expected the pet name to make you cringe but instead swooned. Lighting another cigarette you take a drag and blow it on his face, and he just bites the smoke, making you giggle, after a beat of silence you show him your heart.

“About… 11 hours ago, my boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, cheated on me” you sigh, trying with all your might not to shed a single fucking tear, Jake didn’t deserve them, “Gimme his address” he deadpans, a look so deadly in his eyes, that spark was almost snuffed, but just as quickly his attitude changed, “I’ll kill 'im with my bare hands, I’LL FUCKING KILL ’IM” he shouts with foux determination, making wild animal noises that are making you laugh so hard you can’t breathe “you’re not funny” you say out of breath.

His thumb cleans away a single runaway tear, his touch is so gentle at first you’re not even sure he’s holding you, he’s so close you feel his breath on your cheek and his nose caressing your skin oh so lightly, “you’re dreaming”, you think incredulously. 

In a second his touch becomes rough as he grips your face with both his hands, holding you still so you can’t look anywhere but his eyes, “he’s a fucking moron” he spits out, almost insulted, “and I don’t mean a jerk or plain stupid, I mean he’s missing some fucking brain cells to let go of someone so insanely beautiful as you”.

Your heart’s pounding in your ears, you’re about to explain but he cuts you off “And I don’t even need to know him, to be sure of what I’m telling you right now” he scoffs,  “Hell, I don’t even have to know you to be sure, in the very short time I’ve known you, you’ve been everything” bucky almost can’t believe he’s saying this to you, suddenly the tension is palpable and neither of you can breathe… 

“You’re driving me insane” is the last thing he says before pushing you against the wall, with a grunt he grips your waist and your lips crash with his, in a fight for dominance your tongues swirl, it’s as if Jake or any other man never existed, washed away by the ocean that is Bucky. 

You loved how vocal he was being, he moaned into the kiss as you practically humped him, he bit your swollen lips as a warning to slow down but it only turned you on more. You could feel your hardened nipples rub against his chest, and it drove both of you nuts, with all his strength he pulled away, leaving you dizzy and pulling him for more, he’s never wanted anyone the way he wants you but he would never have sex with someone so drunk, even if that person begged as nicely as you were right now.

He laughs as you start leaving hot open kisses throughout his neck and jaw purring like a cat, “Bucky please” you mewled, asking him for more, his hand flew to grasp your hair in a tight grip, nibbling on your skin as he reached your ear “We aren’t doing anything except kissing the fuck out of each other doll” he whispered.

You made for a grab to his groin but he was able to take your hand and hold it above your head “I want you nice and sober when I get you to cream on my cock”, he groans as you make a final attempt to lure him in, but you know he’s right, so you huff in defeat, a pout on display to make your feelings known, “baby doll what’s wrong? you look flushed” he teases as you gasp in faux offense.

3:45 AM

The bar kicked everyone out but you still had some party left in you and apparently, so did Bucky because he’s already got you piggyback riding him to his car, you said goodbye to your friends assuring them you trusted Bucky, his place was less than 10 minutes away and you’d send them your location. 

Once you got to the car Bucky stopped in his tracks, “we’re drunk and high as hell” he stated, and like a bucket of iced water you realized he was right “Accurate statement” you snort, carefully dropping you on the ground he swiftly turned to face you “so we should… perhaps, maybe take a cab” he goofs around as he steals small kisses form you “or we can walk? your place’s near right?” you reply, everyone was already gone to ask for a ride but he liked the idea of having some alone time with you, so,  he picked you up and placed you on his back “To the Batcave!” he runs as you hold onto him as tight as you could.

4:05 AM

You peacefully walked on the side of the street as cars passed by, one thing that you loved about walking at night was the lack of noise, the night wasn’t completely quiet, you could still hear the cars in the distance, people coming in and out of bars or whatever, the breeze was the perfect temperature and the city lights of New York were shone beautifully.

Hand in hand you walked with your latest conquest as he so eloquently put it, conversation flowing, “I got cheated on once, it fucking sucks” You both laughed at the obvious statement “I thought we were going steady and she got bored” he shrugged, “it was a while ago, but it definitely messed with my head” he whispered as he squeezed your hand, it brought him comfort and you as well. 

“You know what’s fucking hilarious though? I was planning on breaking up with him…ok don’t judge me” you laughed, “but I just stayed with him because it was easier to stay in a mediocre relationship than actually fight for my happiness…plus he had a hot tub” you felt stupid for saying it, but he didn’t judge you, his face remained the same, attentive.

Bucky took your hand and kissed each one of your knuckles “I got a really nice bathtub” he murmured into your skin with a smirk, your heart fluttered to what he implied so you jumped and kissed his cheek, holding onto his arm for dear life, content with how the day turned out.

4:38 AM

After smoking yet another joint together you were now straddling your dancer’s lap on his bathtub “It really is a nice bathtub” You grinned between kisses and he laughed, his hands roaming your soft skin under your clothes, you were heaven on earth he kept thinking, he was about to kiss you again but was interrupted by your phone ringing, which made both of you sigh in frustration.

You knew who it was, Jake had been calling over and over for the last 20 minutes and Bucky had enough of the bastard, “Answer him” he ordered, to which you raised an eyebrow “I- can’t I- seriously?” you say almost shocked “You know what you wanna say to him, so say it” he encouraged with a soft smile.

Without thinking twice you pick up, “Finally! what took you so long to pick up?” Jake barks, you have the phone on speaker so Bucky could listen, and he already hated how the jerk talked to you, making him grip your waist with possessiveness.

“What do you want?” you ask almost uninterested, “Baby please forgive me” he cries as if you could ever believe anything he said to you, “I’m so so fucking sorry, what else do you want me to say?!”, to that you let out an unamused laugh “just stop fucking saying you’re sorry, time to put on your big boy pants and take responsibility” you snark, which oddly, turns on bucky beyond belief.

Like a magnet, his lips start leaving love bites on your neck, making you gulp, “Babe let’s be honest, in a month you’ll be begging me to get back together, we both know you need someone to take care of you, you can’t be alone, you need me” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and then you really were done with his bullshit.

“Listen closely you fucktard, stop saying you’re sorry, stop begging me to forgive you, you were a waste of my time and the only reason I didn’t break up with you sooner was because it was convenient for me to stay with your sorry ass” you bark.

You could keep going but now Bucky was humming against your pulse, finding it incredibly hot how you stood up for yourself, he peppered you with hot open kisses that made your mind even fuzzier than the weed, “And I can take care of myself ass” you hiss in delight, it was meant to be an insult but Bucky was making you feel so good…

“Fucking drop that call”, bucky growled into your neck loud enough to be heard over the phone, then sunk his teeth into your soft skin, making you moan, unintentionally into the phone, before dropping it and gripping Bucky’s hair for support as you rubbed against the bulge on his pants “Fuck I can’t wait to make you mine” he moaned, dreaming of all the possibilities, of everything he wanted to do with and to you.

Despite the chills you felt down your spine, despite feeling exactly the same way, you laugh, “Honey… do you think it’s gonna be that easy?” you coo, drunk in power, you devour his perfect pink lips.

[whalesforhands]

I just stumbled across your page and I am LOVING the whole stsg×reader collection ❤️❤️

Not sure if you mind me dropping this here but I love a good cliché truth or dare!!! (sry for any grammar mistakes btw English isn't my first language)

Imagine stsg, shoko and reader all sitting in suguru's room and just spinning an empty bottle to see who the next poor unfortunate soul is going to be. It lands on reader and the attention flusters her too much, so she panics and picks dare, only to regret it instantly when an evil grin is etched on everyone's face (esp satoru's).

Unfortunately for reader, satoru is quick to suggest ideas, most of them getting shot down by the other two as they deadpan at his (very obvious) attempt at getting you to fulfill his little fantasies.

The chaos was absolutely unimaginable, with satoru whining dramatically and suguru smacking him, shoko aiding the latter as she (most definitely not) gently kicks him.

In the end everyone agrees on you kissing each of them on their cheeks, though satoru might have snuck a little peck on your lips while the other two weren't looking hehe.

ANON THE WAY I DROPPED MY OTHER DRAFTS TO GO WRITE FOR THIS ONE AHHH

I HOPE U LIKE THIS CAUSE I LIKED THIS IDEA

party games are my way into your heart (gojo x reader x geto, shoko x reader)

warnings: gojo’s harassment, kisses, only shoko and geto have rizz, gojo stans why are so many of you in my inbox, and why are all of you so damn horny for him

“Excuse my intrusion…” You had said, taking your shoes off before you entered Suguru’s room.

You could swear you didn’t mean to be late. It’s just… You weren’t used to meeting all three of them out of your uniform.

(You spent majority of the time thinking about what to wear.)

Your infamous thigh high socks, and a comfortably casual outfit consisting of a skirt Shoko had lent you, an inner shirt and a jacket.

(Shoko picked out the outfit for you. “The highlight are your socks.” She had smirked, digging them out from your closet.)

Now, sat inbetween Ieiri and Satoru on Suguru’s carpet, you felt nervous as you politely crossed your legs.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!”

It spun and spun and spun.

It landed on you.

Oh. You’ve never had that happen before.

(You never even played this game in your life.)

“Truth or dare?”

Uh… What are you meant to pick? Is truth too safe? Will choosing the easy option make you lame? Does Ieiri like it when people choose dare? Why does Satoru look so excited? Does Suguru-

“Uh, uhm… Dare?”

You’ve really gone and done it now.

Satoru grins, Suguru smiles. Ieiri downs another sip of her drink.

Satoru speaks first.

“Take off your thigh highs and give them to me.”

…what? Your… socks? You stare dumbfoundedly at Satoru. Why would he want that?

You looked him in the eye. His eyes were glowing, a thin smile on his lips as he shifted a bit closer to you.

Oh. He’s being serious. Not a bad dare, you suppose.

You slowly begin to peel them off before Satoru was dragged away from you, Suguru’s hand coming to stop your own.

“No, no. You don’t have to do that.” He had sweat on his brow, worry etched on his face as a pink blush encompassed his cheeks. “He was just joking.”

Shoko’s grip on Gojo’s collar tightened. A smile on her face as her eyebrows dipped downwards in irritation. “Just. Joking. Right?” Each word was enunciated with venom.

Gojo sputtered, “What about just one sock?”

Another elbow to his gut.

(“Sit on my lap?” No.)

(“Wear my clothes!” Absolutely not.)

(“Let me feed you alc-“ Nope.)

“How about just… Giving us all kisses?”Glares direct themselves at Gojo, what, how uncomfortable is he trying to make you?

“On the cheek!” He put his hands out defensively, as if trying to shield himself from any incoming attacks.

——

Gently pecking one of Ieiri’s cheeks, you gently turn her head and place another sweet kiss on the other, smiling as you part ways from her.

She is always so sweet. Her perfume emanated fragrantly from her, dressed in her cute sweater and shorts.

You hold her hand in one of yours, gently squeezing it as you stare at her.

(“You both done over there yet?”)

——

He watched you as you turned over to him. Your eyes hazy as you settled by his side, a hand on one of his broad shoulder as you leaned up, closing your eyes.

Suguru pleasantly sighs as he feels your lips upon his face, your other hand reaching across his chest to steady yourself on his other shoulder as you land another shy peck on his other cheek, a smile on his face throughout.

He opens his eyes to look at you, staring deep into your eyes. He sees you shift forward once more.

(Did you just give him an extra one? Adorable.)

(“Can you both hurry up?”)

——

Gojo Satoru feels wronged when he has to go last. He was the one suggested this, why does he need to go last?!

He pouts when he feels you press your cute lips to one of his cheeks, his sunglasses teasingly removed from his face by you and carefully held in your hand, the other pressing itself against his chest to steady yourself.

He deserves more, doesn’t he?

As he feels you move to his other side, a devious plan forms.

He closes his eyes, shifting to be face to face with you as you lean in to give him his other kiss. He can’t mess up this timing.

You were surprised to feel his soft lips against your own instead of his smooth cheek. A strong hand coming up to pull you in closer as you kneeled, wide-eyed and surprised before the hazy feeling disappeared all too soon.

Satoru pulled away first, winking at you as he reached for his sunglasses.

masterlist

Notes:

“That’s harassment, you dirty, disgusting man!”

“Satoru… I’m disappointed in you…”

You were still in shock, your fingers reaching to feel the lip balm smothered on your lips. It was strawberry flavoured.

“Satoru,” Your quiet voice began, stopping the two shaking a laughing Gojo Satoru around.

“What… Brand is your lip balm?”

He gave you a brand new one he had in his dorm room later on.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Undercover (part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: Am I really that bad?

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1411

A/n: I AM FINALLY BACK WITH UNDERCOVER YALLL WOOHOOOO 🥳🥳🥳

i dont know why, but everytime there is a fic i dont write for a long time, i have the most fun writing😭 i am so happy and satisfied with this, and i hope you like it too 🥹

also, im just gonna say, this is the series that will be my main focus for now, so you will get updates more sooner until its finished hehe 🤭❣️

ANYWAYSSSSSSSS, ENJOYYYY 🥳🥳🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

The women’s barracks made Y/n grateful for the room she had at Omega point.

It was not that the barracks were unclean or anything. Quite the opposite. They were a little too clean. Almost sterile. And while Y/n did not mind the sterileness of the place too much, she did wish for the touch of home her room had, with her worn clothes dumped onto the chair she rarely used, the empty can of food on her nightstand, the small duckling plush her father had gifted her when she was three that barely was holding itself together at the seams-

She still had that duckling stashed at the back of her suitcase.

The main problem she had with the barracks was that they ended any illusion of privacy she had at Omega point. Sure, she knew the wooden door hiding her room away from the world did not do its job, sounds penetrating through the barely there excuse for protection. But at least it was there.

There, she did not have to smell other soldiers’ sweat, she did not have to share a bunk with them, she did not have to plug her ears with her fingers because some of them wouldn’t stop talking, even well into the night.

The only good thing out of this mission was the warm food they provided. That was the only thing Y/n looked forward to in her every moment spent in misery.

Of course, her fellow undercover soldier was a comfort.

Sarcastic. That was sarcastic.

Y/n did not understand what his problem with her was. Even now, when the two only saw each other during training, he would shoot her sneers and dirty looks when he thought she wasn’t looking.

What does he think of himself?

Y/n wondered if he thought she wasn’t paying attention to him. It was a constant thought prickling the back of her mind. Did he really think she was so bad for this mission? Did he think she knew nothing of how to spy?

She was better than him, for god’s sake.

Despite her constant reassurances to herself that she was good, she couldn’t help but wonder. Was she bad? Was there a reason Castle had picked her as a last resort for this mission?

Obviously, he wouldn’t dislike her without cause. Would he?

"Miss Y/n."

Y/n shot up from the top of the bunk she was sharing with the soldier he had not cared to know the name of, eyes zeroing in on the guard that was glancing around the room in search of her.

"Yes?"

His eyes shifted towards her voice, nodding. "Captain Sanders has summoned you."

Y/n’s brows furrowed, and she hurried to grab her jacket to throw over her thin undershirt. "At this hour?"

He shrugged at her. "I am but a messenger."

Y/n pondered over it as she followed him out of the barracks, ignoring the curious gazes following her. "Did she at least mention why she needed me?"

He shook his head. "No."

The guard walked away from the rooms higher officers occupied, instead leading her out of a back door and through a long patch of grass towards a dilapidated building.

Finally, after walking for long minutes during which nerves churned in Y/n’s gut, he stopped in front of a door. The walls like they would crumble the moment the wind blew stronger, the door looking worse than her bedroom door back home.

Is it home if it never provided warmth?

Shaking her head to get rid of those thoughts, Y/n focused back on the guard, who turned to look at her for a moment before he dipped his head in a nod.

"Kishimoto is waiting for you."

Y/n turned away, then whipped her head back to him.

"What?"

His lips tilted to one side. "What? Go on. Hurry before someone catches you two."

Y/n blinked, staring at him for a moment, trying to remember if she knew the man before she walked inside the room.

Kenji sat in front of a broken window, eyes fixed on a point in the distance.

"Kishimoto? Who was that guy?"

Kenji sighed, shaking his head in what seemed an awful lot like disappointment. "Do you ever listen? Castle had mentioned it."

Y/n’s brows furrowed. "No he didn’t."

"He did."

"Look, I might have been mad at the time, but I remember every single word he uttered."

Kenji looked at her like she had lost her mind but didn’t comment on it further. That look made her wonder if she really had.

Did Castle mention it? Y/n had always been a good listener. She would have remembered, right?

Maybe I am bad at this after all. I should have known.

"Whatever. He’s an old undercover. He’s been working here for over a year now." He shook his head again, taking a step closer to Y/n. "I don’t even know why I expected better from you, considering you’ve always been an ungrateful brat."

Y/n stiffened, eyes narrowing as her heart beat painfully in her chest that felt too hollow to be normal. She wrapped her arms across her chest, glaring at him. The action had always felt vaguely comforting, like she could physically protect her heart from the harsh words of the people that surrounded her.

"I am really hoping you did not just invite me here in the middle of the night to berate me and lecture me about how ungrateful and useless I am and how everyone is just wasting resources on me to keep me alive for no reason."

Kenji returned her glare in equal measure. "I did not say that."

Y/n scoffed. "Sure. Why did you call me?"

Kenji watched Y/n quietly for a moment, then sighed. "I received a missive from Castle some time ago on how to proceed."

Y/n straightened, shoving her hands into her pockets. "And?"

"He wants us to mingle, try to get as much information as possible from fellow soldiers."

Y/n nodded. "Okay."

Kenji raised a brow. "That’s all you got to say? No oh how will I survive the torture or go to hell or why me or-"

"Is that all he said in the missive?" Y/n muttered, trying to not lash out at the condescending tone of his voice.

He snorted. "That’s all. At least, that’s what I was supposed to tell you. He told me to keep the more important stuff for myself, considering you would probably babble to the first person who is willing to listen and blow our cover."

Y/n blinked.

Do they think I will betray them?

Sure, Y/n might be very cold towards Castle and Kenji, but she would never purposefully leak important information that might one day endanger Omega point and its residents. She did not dislike the residents, after all. She loved them. Most of them, if not all, were survivors like her. People who did not have shelter and food to fill their bellies at times of war begging for a roof over their heads.

She adored the older ladies who told stories to entertain the younger ones. She loved the young children who always insisted Y/n play with them, giggling happily when she agreed. She loved the older men who reminded her of her dad, their fatherly grins and their touch on her head when she did something for them, blessing her for her heart.

Did she really give the impression she did not care?

"Hey, Y/n?"

Kenji’s voice broke Y/n’s thought process, and she flicked her eyes up at him, surprised to find a trace of concern intertwined with his voice.

"Are you okay?"

Y/n blinked a couple of times to clear her head, grateful for the darkness outside and the lack of light inside the house. She was sure Kenji wouldn’t have seen the tears gathering at her waterline.

Even if he did though, Y/n doubted he would really care.

"I’m leaving."

"Y/n listen-"

But Y/n had already turned away, opening the door barely holding onto its hinges and walked out. The guard still stood there, his eyes trained on her face as she jerked her chin at him to ask him to lead the way.

She was too tired to speak.

And too emotional for her voice to not break if she did.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

permanent taglist: @berryzxx @serenescureforboredom @cassie6392 @harrystylesfan2686

Shatter Me Taglist: @dahliawarner @berryzxx @mrsjna @yucanbmylxdy @lemon-lav @sheisntyou @kitkatlover015 @dnfhascorruptedme

Kenji Kishimoto Taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @aaaaaaakenjikishimoto

Undercover Taglist: @lady-of-tearshed

[forget-me-maybe]

✨ 2024 Blorbo Awards ✨

Thank you @little-paperboat for inviting me to the awards this season!

I'm taking some liberties with the categories from the original post, hehe. And it's all BG3 because I don't have any other interests 🤷‍♀️

Invites to the gala (if you want to): @reverieblondie @redroomroaving @faerie-with-a-knife @barbwillbrb @fangbanger3000 @heytheresunflower (I'm a bit out of the loop because of the holidays so if you've done this already please tell me because I want to read them all!!!), and everyone who sees this and wants to do it as well!

This got long and kinda horny for some parts so, more under the cut!

First off, we have the blorbo of the year;

✨ Rolan ✨

Not only did I fall head over heels for this grumpy stray the moment he said damnation, he's also the reason I got back on tumblr and found this amazing community. I owe him as much as he owes me for saving his tail all those times.

Secondly, the bastard of the year;

✨ Aradin ✨

Excusable? No. Redeemable? Maybe. Fuckable? For sure. Congrats on being the most punchable face in the game, and still managing to have me thirst like a wildebeest during dry season. You just can't see red flags through rose-tinted glasses.

Speaking of red flags, we shall follow suit into the third category, the villain of the year. And I think this is where I might surprise some of you, because it's not Raphael, it's no other than the saddest and wettest meow meow of them all

✨ Ketheric Thorm ✨

Why, you may ask? Well, apart from my incurable old-man fucking tendencies, he's got it all. Tragic backstory? Check! Family man? Check! Completely irredeemable? Check! And the man's got a whole act for himself.

Continuing onto my own contributions, here come the OC's of the year.

And of course, it's a tie between Tav and Tav (and another reminder that I should come up with names before I start writing 🤷‍♀️).

First out;

✨ Ester Tavanthuriel from You keep showing up ✨

A naive and one-track minded sorcerer with a heart of gold, and, at times, a whole lot of sass.

✨ Tavaxeni Tumbledown from A change of heart ✨

While her whole characterisation is a bit of an afterthought (since it was supposed to be a one shot), she's turned into my funny and kind of angry punching bag. I love her dearly (she does not love me).

[sheisaquarius-blog]

Ian day prompt if you're still accepting prompts? hehe just really want an ianthony meet cute since we don't have enough of those lol maybe ian out in public? a party? cafe or somewhere and then it's a play on this canon fact of ian not really knowing someone is flirting with him. so maybe he catches anthony's attention and every time anthony locks eyes with him he looks away and then when anthony finally tries to talk and flirt with him, Ian is completely oblivious to all his advancements and anthony thinks he's just absolutely adorable (another canon fact lol)

i have had a seriously hard time writing lately, but this is my best shot! i'm hoping to get all my other prompts completed between tonight and tomorrow, but i've been struggling with writing so much. if you have a kind thought to spare today, think of me and hopefully my fingers will start typing again.

i did my best here, i doubt it's what you had in mind but i hope you still enjoy it!

Anthony is about to get the hell out of this party that he’s been over since before he even got there, but there’s a whole barricade of people before the front door and they all know him (well, they don’t know him, which is part of why he wants to get out in the first place), which means he’ll get so much shit for leaving after only an hour. He barely slips out of view as one of his “friends” scans the room—maybe not for him, but Anthony isn’t about to take that chance, so he ducks back around the corner.

God, he hates making friends in college. It feels like some high political drama where he has to make alliances instead of actually liking people. It’s always who-knows-who? Who can get me here? Who can I trust? At every turn, and Anthony finds it so exhausting. Fucking fake.

Three and a half months into college and he’s really starting to wonder whether this was the right move. He isn’t really sure what else he’d do, but this hasn’t quite felt like the right choice yet.

He’s caught up deliberating the merits of being one of those drop out tech guys in Silicon Valley, trying to find the least crowded room, when he hears a laugh he kind of recognizes. It might be the least crowded room, but Anthony’s stomach still turns over when he sees the kitchen of this college apartment complex. Some number of people too big for Anthony to figure at a glance congregates around the island, but he figures this is his best chance to meld into a group with the least number of people. Plus, not one of the guys in his hall who dragged him here is bothering with the kitchen. It seems more like cool artsy types. Anthony leans into the corner, and then he hears that laugh again. This time, his eyes fall on a guy a couple inches shorter than himself with brown fringe hanging in his eyes. Anthony recognizes him from his film class—he talked about some Korean film Anthony never heard of during the sound design unit—Ian. Ian . . . something about dicks.

He seems cool, to be honest. Unfortunate last name though. College is a little better than high school, but still. Anthony wonders if he’s had trouble making friends too.

Ian’s eyes catch his and Anthony raises his solo cup in acknowledgement, but Ian’s eyes slide away.

That’s fine, there are a lot of people, and Ian seems . . . kinda popular, actually. Maybe he isn’t having the same troubles as Anthony. It doesn’t register until the third time Ian looks away from him that, oh. Oh! Anthony is staring. Yeah, no wonder Ian’s vibe seems weird.

Okay, that makes sense. He needs to be way less intense.

Ian’s eyes are a pretty blue, and he’s funny, so being less intense proves to be a bit of a challenge, actually. Anthony isn’t sure how long he spends at that kitchen island, but it’s easily the best time he’s had at this party or any other, and he’s hardly said a word himself.

The conversation, of course, turns to film, and Anthony feels like maybe he should excuse himself before anyone notices he doesn’t fit in here, either. Everyone’s answer is something highbrow, something foreign. Anthony knew that would be the case, but as the circle goes ‘round and gets closer to him, he feigns like he needs a new drink and slips away.

The front door is still guarded like the fucking Pentagon, so Anthony heads out back to the little lawn area. There are more little groups, but at least in the fresh air, Anthony feels like he can breathe. Plus, maybe if he finishes his punch, he’ll be fucked up enough to actually try and vault over the fence to get out.

He looks down at the drink in his hands that must be pure nail polish remover and Capri sun.

Absolutely nasty. “Cheers,” he mutters to himself, holding his breath and bringing his cup to his lips.

“Hey.” Anthony could thank god from saving him from that chug, but then he turns to see Ian and now he wishes maybe he’d had a little more booze in his system. “Hey,” Anthony says, furrowing his brow. “What are you doing out here?”

Ian shrugs. “You never said your favorite movie. I was curious.”

“Uh,” Anthony stumbles, because he absolutely cannot say his answer. “Citizen Kane?”

Ian frowns, considering. “What a film studies answer. Did you want to try it again, a little stronger, and maybe I’ll believe you this time?”

Anthony is bitten by how direct that is, how absolutely called on his bullshit he is. It makes him laugh, although he’s surprised that he doesn’t feel more uncomfortable about it. “Citizen Kane,” he repeats, in his most deadly serious tone.

“Rosebud,” Ian says, and . . .

And Anthony has absolutely nothing for that. “Huh?” he asks.

Ian shakes his head and laughs—Anthony likes that sound. Even if he isn’t sure why, he’s glad to have been the cause. “Okay, dude. Sure. What’s your real answer?”

What the hell, he’s a lost cause, might as well be honest about it. “Home Alone 2: Lost in New York.”

Ian’s eyebrows shoot up under his fringe and he blinks in surprise. “You could have said anything else.”

Anthony grins a little and shrugs. “You said you wanted the real answer.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?” Ian replies, a little smile creeping over his mouth. “We’re in film class together, right?”

Anthony nods. “Yeah, that’s why I tried sneaking into your table, but I can’t exactly fake it.”

“Yeah, I hear that’s harder for guys.” It’s Anthony’s turn to laugh—this guy is stupid funny. It would be annoying if it were less funny. “You, uh, you like it? Class, I mean. Or like, all of this, I guess.” He gestures vaguely around them.

Ian considers for a moment, his eyes drifting around thoughtfully. They’re nice eyes. A kind of blue Anthony’s never seen before. “It’s alright, I guess. To be honest, I think about dropping out at least once a day, but I don’t exactly have something better to do.”

“Really?” Anthony asks. Ian seems so with it in class. He always has the answers, he can discuss things like he knows what he’s talking about—he seems perfectly cut out for this.

“I probably won’t,” Ian admits. “But it’s so . . . I dunno. It’s not easy. Not the classes, that stuff’s fine. The rest of it.” He throws a skeptical glance back inside. “I can’t be pretentious for four more years just to end up never making a goddamn movie.”

Boy, does Anthony get that. “Dude, I so get that.”

Ian’s gaze turns back to him, then away once more, but Anthony can’t help but think there’s something in it this time. “What about you?” Ian asks.

“I was thinking of leaving for San Francisco, like, seconds before I walked into the kitchen,” he says with a chuckle. “How hard can it be to be the next Bill Gates? Besides, it’s not like I’m gonna get anywhere in the film department, I just like fun movies.”

“I’ve seen Home Alone, I’ve never seen the second one, but it’s a good movie. John Williams’s score? Unbelievable.”

“I know!” Anthony says, far too excited, a huge smile on his face. “The music is so good! And Joe Pesci could make me piss myself laughing.”

“Is he in the sequel?”

Anthony feels like this is perhaps a moment. A moment for him to test the waters, to see if there’s anyone out there, if there’s a reason to stay. “You wanna watch it?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Ian says casually, taking a drink from his own cup.

Anthony can’t quite tell if Ian is turning him down or completely oblivious, so he pushes harder. “Do you wanna watch it with me?”

“Yeah, that’d be cool.”

Oh.

A little smile climbs from one end of Anthony’s lips to the other. He can work with oblivious.

“I meant, like, do you want to leave this fucking party and go watch it right now,” Anthony clarifies. “I have it in my room on DVD.”

Ian blinks at him, curious.

“With me,” Anthony adds.

Anthony seems to have taken him by surprise for the second time tonight, and there’s a little bit of satisfaction in that. Maybe he’ll have to make it three times before the night is over. “Oh—oh!” Anthony can see the realization happen in his eyes in real time. “Yeah, absolutely, let’s get the hell outta here.”

Anthony smiles. “I think you’ll like it.” Ian chuckles and jerks his head towards the complex, and Anthony doesn’t dread heading back in too much, and only a little bit of that has to do with the fact that he’ll be leaving right away. “Unless you wanna go over the fence,” Ian offers.

Anthony shakes his head. “Next time,” he says as they head in together.

[allastoredeer]

If it's not too much work, could you share what your outlining process is like? I always feel a little lost when I try outlining my fics and I know the process is different for everyone but I feel like it would help to know what others do. Every time I try to google help I get processes for original novel writing, and it doesn't feel as applicable to writing a short fanfic.

I would love to :3

There are actually a few different ways I outline, and sometimes it depends on the length of the fic and how complex the plot is.

I'll use one of my saved radiostatic prompts as an example (it also gives me an excuse to sit down and actually outline it hehe)

So, sometimes just the prompt itself is a good enough outline for me (this is dependent on how long I think the fic is going to be. If it's short, sometimes the prompt itself works and I don't need to go in-depth. I say "prompt" but that also can mean a specific scene in your head that you want to write, or a concept, or even a piece of fan-art that inspired you).

Here's the paragraph prompt I wrote for this radiostatic one-shot/short fic (spoilers, I guess):

So sometimes, just this is enough for me to start writing the fic (my prompts do tend to get a little big because I like to add a lot of detail - about the scene or concept that grabbed my attention - so that I capture all the vibes and emotions that I want to incorporate.

But sometimes, it helps to go more in-depth so I'm not overwhelmed trying to get to the part of the fic that I want to write (NOTE: It is totally fine if you write out the scene/parts that you want to write the most, even if it's in the middle or the end. You can always fill in the blanks after. Or you can just post the scene you wanted to write without adding more. It's up to you).

I like to figure out what scenes happen that lead up to the parts I want to write, so sometimes, I'll make a bullet-point list of chronological scenes, plot-points, and details. For example:

And etc... you continue on until you've hashed out the sequence of events that take place in the story. This doesn't have to be super detailed (it can be really brief and to the point) and doesn't it have to be super clinical either. Just have fun and write down whatever silly thoughts you have in your head.

You bullet-point list can be as simple as:

Alastor goes downstairs to do exercise.

Vox shows up to do the exercise as well (invited by Charlie)

They get into an argument about modern technology.

Vox leaves.

It's really just about putting down the sequence of events starting from the very beginning to the very end. You can keep it simple like the above example

OR

You can make it even more detailed by doing an in-depth summary of the fic, scene by scene, plot point by plot point, until you get to the end (this is what I usually do because it gets everything planned out and on the page, down to the smallest details). For example:

And then it goes on like this until I've outlined the entire fic. You can be silly with this. Just have fun. Let yourself ramble and get all you're ideas out. Don't try to stick to a rigid plan, let the story flow naturally.

Then, once I've finished my outline, I use it as a guide as I write the rough draft. The thing about outlines is that you don't have to follow exactly what you planned. It's okay to diverge or adds things or cut things out. It really is just a loose guide to help you through the events of the story and get your thoughts on paper.

Additionally: You don't even have to fully finish the outline if you don't want to. Sometimes you get half of it done before you want to start writing, and that's fine. The rest of the story will reveal itself as you go.

If I'm doing a multi-chaptered fic, sometimes I'll break the overall idea of the story into pre-determined chapters and summarize it section by section. Or, I'll just be a maniac and summarize the entire fic in one big, super long, super detailed block of text. Another staticradio fic I'm currently outlining is 16,152 words long and I'm not even close to being done. I expected this fic to get super long and complex, so writing it out in a very chronological and detailed manner helps it feel less daunting. AND now I have every plot point, twist, emotional scene, and bit foreshadowing planned out and already placed where I want it to show up in the fic. It's great. It makes me life easier when I actually buckle down and write the rough draft.

Just as a final note, I want to say that everyone's process is different. This is how I outline, but I know it won't work for everyone. It's all about finding what method works for you.

I'll say that one of the most important to do while outlining is simply having fun with it. Make it your hype list. Make every scene you jot down a scene you're excited to write. Make yourself want to write it so it doesn't feel like a chore to slog through.

Best advice I've ever recieved: If you're bored writing a scene, the audience will be bored reading it.

Have fun and write the story you wanna write 👉👉

Hope this helped!

[heyiwrotesomethings]

lady nagant x female reader

lady killed a target and got spotted by R who instead of calling for help starting clapping and smirking 😏. When the cops asked her who did it she just said she didn't know anyone that wOulD dO sUcH a tHiNg

then nagant tracked R down and broke into her house to ask about her actions.

friends who became lOveRs hehe byee

The Victims of Heroes

Kaina Tsutsumi (Lady Nagant) x She/Her Reader

A/N: Thank you for the excuse to try to write for Lady Nagant again. I tried two other times and both turned out bad, so I’m glad I’m finally getting a fic out for her. Warning: Brief allusion to reader’s father attempting s*icide because of the work the Hero Commission made him do. Word Count: 2,134

Kaina had to take the shot.

A very influential Hero Commission sponsored politician was running for governor of the Greater Tokyo Area. Though not public information, his plans would include creating a special task force to search for more children with outstanding quirks to begin their hero training at a criminally early age.

Kaina couldn’t allow that to happen, to have those poor, starry-eyed children’s hands be covered in blood like her own. It was difficult to move freely after killing that Hero Commission Chairman a few months ago, but she would do what had to be done.

Heroes were vigilant, searching for her to lock her up for her traitorous crime, and with the politician’s election campaign gaining traction, his security only grew tighter. Kaina became more anxious as Election Day closed in, but as fate would have it, she found her opening late one night when the self-proclaimed ‘family man’ snuck out for the company of someone other than his wife.

She watched him trail a woman on the street and when he caught up to her, he flashed her an obscene amount of cash. Kaina waited for the woman to pocket the money at least. Perhaps she could afford a therapist with it, she mused, before aiming her rifle at the man and taking the shot.

No wind, no obstacles, no moving target, she might as well have had shot him at point blank instead of the roof of a nearby convenience store. He fell into the gutter like a sack of potatoes.

Kaina expected the woman to scream, but she seemed eerily calm. She blinked, then looked up, somehow spotting Kaina right away. She was no average citizen to parse out the trajectory of a bullet that quickly. Kaina stood frozen as the woman sent her a smile accompanying with a little wave then a light golf-clap.

“You might want to make yourself scarce, Lady Nagant.” She called out, though her voice did not carry too far, “I’m going to need to put on a show here, you understand.”

Kaina slowly backed away from the edge of the roof and as the woman fell away from her line of sight, she heard a scream.

“Oh my god! Someone help! Call 119!”

Too curious for her own good, Kaina hopped a few rooftops down to continue to watch the show. She observed the once nearly empty street roar to life as police cars, ambulances and nosey neighbors flooded the street with light and sound.

“My god, it’s governor candidate Sato!” A police man gasped, “Ma’am, did you see this happen? Did you see anyone suspicious?”

The woman continued to sob as she spoke, “I-I just needed a few things at the convenience store and— and he was laying there when I came out! I just, I don’t know why anyone would do such a awful thing!” She wailed.

Kaina watched on as the officer tried to comfort the woman, her mind filled with questions. Why was this woman helping her get away with murder? They would know it was her soon enough once they found her signature bullet lodged in the politician’s head, but with this woman’s show of hysterics, the police and emergency personnel were all scatterbrained and not following any protocols.

“Let’s get you out of here ma’am. Can I drive you home?” The police officer asked.

The woman shook her head, “I live in that apartment building right there, but if you could walk me in, I would be so thankful. I’ve never been more frightened in my life.”

Kaina watched the officer lead the woman inside before making herself scarce until the chaos winded down in the early hours of the morning. She wanted answers.

It took a little snooping into the apartment records to find the right number, but she found it and climbed a couple stories up to the woman’s balcony and slipped through her unlocked sliding glass door, flinching when a lamp clicked on as soon as she slid the door behind her.

“I was starting to think you wouldn’t come.” The woman yawned, leaning further back into her cozy chair, crossing one leg over the other.

“Who are you?” Kaina demanded, “Why didn’t you tell them what really happened?”

“My name is (L/n) (Y/n),” she decided to uncross her legs and stand up for a more proper introduction, “And I didn’t give you away, because I believe you did the right thing.”

Kaina was skeptical. All the news stations could talk about was how much of a traitor she was. The Commission paid through the nose to leave no doubt in the public’s mind that she was the enemy, so how did (Y/n) come to that conclusion?

“My father was recruited by the commission when he was five years old. He did the same kind of work for them that you did, wiping out troublesome undesirables. It really messed with his head. Except, instead of taking it out on the people who raised him to do those things, he took it out on himself. I’ll never forgive the Hero Commission for what they did to him.”

“I’m sorry.” Kaina rubbed the back of her neck. That would explain it, wouldn’t it? No one truly understood the horrors of working for the Hero Commission unless they were in the trenches or reaching out to the people within.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. He survived, he’s just not all there anymore. Probably for the best, I think he’s happier this way. He smiles when I get to visit him in the hospital anyway. But that’s not what I wanted to say, I wanted to thank you. The chairman you killed a few months ago, he was the one who gave my father the ultimatum that broke him completely. You gave our family justice.”

“I’m not so heroic.” Kaina looked out to the balcony, “It’s not like I knew I was doing you any favors.”

“Justice is justice.” (Y/n) shrugged, “Anyway, I imagine being on the lamb while you do all this vigilante work has been wearing you down. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like. Visit whenever you want. Food, shower, a bed, someone to talk to, whatever you need I want to provide it for you.”

“I can’t. That’s too much.”

“Come on, Lady Nagant, where else do you have to go?” (Y/n) held out a hand to her, “Stay.”

It would be nice, wouldn’t it? Kaina had been living on the streets. No apartment and no money because she couldn’t risk the heroes finding her. She often toyed with the idea of letting herself get caught just so she could have a place to sleep. She often wondered if she had made the right decision, and now with (Y/n) standing before her, hand outstretched and offering her home to her, it was hard to think that she had ever been wrong.

“Call Me Kaina,” she said, accepting (Y/n)’s hand.

***

“Yes!” (Y/n) jumped up from her seat as the somber newscaster reported on the list of inmates who had escaped during the Tartarus Prison Siege.

There were many troubling names that preceded and followed the name she had been desperate to hear, but she hardly cared. As long as Kaina had escaped, that’s all she needed to know.

Years had passed since Kaina had been caught. She had been fed false information and went out to take care of another Commission figurehead, but it had been a trap. (Y/n) had been devastated when she saw the news. Kaina had wanted to tell her something when she got back… (Y/n) had never gotten to hear it.

When Kaina had been locked away, (Y/n) wrote her letters. It wasn’t a crime to write a letter to a criminal after all. People wrote love letters to serial killers for god’s sake. She didn’t write anything about their time together because she knew the mail would always be read by someone else before it would reach Kaina’s hands. She didn’t even use her real name when signing the letter, but she did hide a code within the words that she prayed Kaina would see through. She did.

(Y/n) had tried to get her to tell her what she had wanted to tell her that night she got caught, but Kaina was stubbornly tight-lipped, saying it was only something she wanted to say if they could meet face to face again.

While everyone else in the city was battening down the hatches, (Y/n) was making sure her balcony door was unlocked, waiting for Kaina’s return. She had accidentally fallen asleep while she waited, but was awoken by a few thumps and bumps.

“(Y/n), (Y/n), are you home?”

Oh, how long she had dreamed to hear her voice again.

“Kaina!” (Y/n) stumbled to her feet and threw herself at Kaina, arms and legs wrapping completely around her.

Kaina held her weight easily, wrapping her arms tightly around her.

“I missed you so much.” She murmured.

“I missed you too,” (Y/n) withdrew her head from Kaina’s neck and took a minute to really look at her. She ran her fingers through Kaina’s hair, noticeably shorter since they last saw each other, “I love the hair.”

“Thanks,” Kaina chuckled, then a more serious look came over her face, “Hey, um, I know this is kind of sudden since I just got here but, I really want to tell you something that’s been eating at me forever and I got a, uh, a ‘friend’ waiting outside that really shouldn’t be left alone for too long, but I wanted to tell you without any distractions.”

“Kaina, I’ve been waiting for this for years, I think we’ve waited long enough, don’t you?”

“You’re right,” Kaina sat (Y/n) down on the counter, “wait here a second… You didn’t deep clean the apartment at any point, did you?”

“What a riveting question,” (Y/n) teased, “but no, I haven’t. Thanks for exposing me.”

“Oh, you’re fine, it’s just us.” Kaina smiled, reaching up into the far back of the highest shelf and something weakly banged on the balcony door, “Ignore that, please.”

(Y/n) shook her head in disbelief, but did as she was told. Kaina worked her way back around the counter with something behind her back and came to a stop in front of (Y/n).

“What I have behind my back was a supposed to be a part two a ways down the line after I got to say what I initially wanted to say, but I’m so, so tired of waiting. (Y/n), you’re my best friend, my confidant, my home, the worst torture in that prison was not getting to hear your voice or see your face. God, what I wouldn’t have given just to smell your shampoo. I love you, and maybe I misstranslated some code, but I feel pretty confident you feel the same way.”

(Y/n) chuckled and nodded, using her legs to pull Kaina in closer to the counter, waiting impatiently for the other shoe to drop.

“I uh, don’t think we could get away with a real wedding, but will you take this ring and be my wife? Even if it’s not exactly a legal union?”

“Yes, Kaina, you sweet, beautiful woman, I’ll be your covert wife. I love you too.”

(Y/n)’s hands snuck back into Kaina’s hair, grasping at the root before pulling her in for a kiss that was long overdue.

“Should we make our way to the honeymoon?” (Y/n) breathed, when Kaina finally gave her enough space to catch her breath. Kaina winced.

“Yeah, probably gonna need a rain check on that.” She looked to the balcony door, so (Y/n) peered over too, seeing the distressed young man sitting out there for the first time. “The poor guy isn’t right. It didn’t feel right leaving him to fend for himself, so I took him with me. Is that alright?”

“Of course, let him in.”

Kaina slid the door open and Kai slowly shuffled in.

“Where’s pops?” He hiccuped, looking around the room hopefully.

“I told you, I don’t know your pops,” Kaina gently reminded, “But we’ll help you find him when it’s safe, okay?”

“Pops… I’m sorry.”

“Here, come sit.” (Y/n) lead him to the couch and helped ease him down. “Let’s make everyone a little something good to eat, hm? I’m sure you’re both tired of prison food.”

“You’re too good to me.” Kaina smiled, putting a cartoon on for Kai in hopes that it would keep him distracted while they worked in the kitchen.

“Well after you just proposed to me so nicely and kissed me so wonderfully it’s the least I can do.” (Y/n) winked, earning her another breath stealing kiss behind the wall of the kitchen nook.

[moonlightpetalz6]

The Love of a Sister

Character: Sabo

Reader: Fem! Reader, Sis! reader 

Warnings: Violence, loss of eye, Amnesia, harsh language, angst

Context: The reader is Sabo's younger sister. Due to Sabo's incident with the celestial dragon he loses his memories that includes his own precious little sister.

Wc: 3,961

A/n: So this is actually from a one-shot I posted a long time ago when I used to write on Wattpad all the time! I edited it a lot and changed a couple things around! This is finally a good excuse to finally write up the second part of this story! Let me know what you think! I hope you enjoy it! ______________________________________________________________

"Sabo-nii! Get down from there!" Your voice rang throughout the forest, causing some birds to fly from the trees nearby. You stood there cranking your neck up as far as your little neck could go as you shield your eyes from the sun, trying to get a better look at the shadowed figure above. Sabo, who sat high up in the tree, hummed as he looked down at you, tilting his hat back a bit. "Hm? Oh! Haha! Hey Y/n!" He laughed, smiling down at you with his usual toothy grin. You stood there looking at him, a pout on your lips as you went to shout your next words at the blonde boy. "Ace said he wouldn't be here till late because of Luffy, so spend some time with me! I'm bored, and you guys always do cool things without me!" You whined, cheeks puffed out in anger as you stomped your foot. 

Sabo smirked down at you, finding it so much fun when his little sister got angry. "If you want to hang out, climb up here with me!" He laughed as he watched your pouting face turn into shock and horror. "EEEEEEH?!?!" You yelled out in disbelief. You looked at the tree, slowly following its trunk from the ground to where your brother stood proudly. Your shocked expression soon turns to a glare as you look at the older boy. Seeing as he was your older brother, Sabo knew all too well that you weren't a good climber and had a slight fear of heights, so he wanted to try teasing you. You turn from him, placing your hands on your hips as you puff out your cheeks, not wanting to give your brother the satisfaction of watching you suffer. "Humph! I'll wait down here for Ace! After all, he's way more reliable and cute, too~" You sang, a mischievous glint in your eyes, one you knew your brother could not see from his position in the tree. 

You knew Sabo was an overly protective brother regarding boys, even ones he was close with, such as Ace and Luffy. Sabo never liked you hanging around boys without him and would always chase them away when he would finally notice. You see Sabo's body stiffen in the corner of your eye, causing you to laugh as you push your teasing a bit more. "Who knows, maybe Ace will be my husband in the future!" You declared, shrugging your shoulders as you pretended to shake your head innocently. Glancing back at Sabo, you saw the look of horror cross his face as he almost stumbled off the tree branch he was on, quickly trying to regain his balance. "L-LIKE HELL YOU WILL!" He yelled in a voice filled with utter fear at the thought of his sweet sister marrying his troublemaking friend. You watched as he quickly climbed down from the tree, running over to you. 

You giggled as he ran up to you, taking your hand, a slight pout on his face as he looked you in the eye. "You're not allowed to get married to any guy so long as I'm around!" He protectively yelled while tapping a hand to his chest. You just smiled at him as you held his hand while rolling your eyes at how ridiculous he was. "Hehe, I got you to come down! So now you can spend time with me!" You proudly proclaimed while jumping up and down, relishing your small victory over your older brother. 

Sabo looked at you, shocked for a moment, before smiling as he joined in on your laughter. The two of you hunched over, holding your stomachs as tiny blush on both cheeks as you try to catch your breath. "You little brat!" You let out a squeal as Sabo went and pounced on you, efficiently trapping you in a tickle attack, causing you to roll around in the dirt and grass, tears flooding your eyes. "Hahaha! N-no, stop! Don't do that!" You pleaded, trying to escape his grasp, but to no avail. "I won't stop until you surrender!" He shouted, a cocky grin on his face as he continued his tickle war. "Hahaha! OK! OK! I surrender! I surrender!" You shouted, trying to push him away, your child's lungs trying to regain some air quickly. Sabo smiled at this victory over his little sister before stopping his assault as he backed away with a small laugh, watching as you tried to regain your breath. "That's so not fair, Sabo-nii!" You whined, hitting his shoulder, causing him to flinch. 

He smiled nervously at you while rubbing the spot you had just hit while sitting in the grass next to you. "Brothers never play fair! Remember that!" He grinned while pointing a finger at you, laughing. You rolled your eyes at him, shaking your head as you waved him off after a few years. After a moment of silence between the two, you spoke up, pulling your knees closer to your chest as you glanced at your brother. "Hey... Sabo-nii?" You asked, causing him to hum and look at you curiously, his hat falling forward as he tilted his head in your direction. "Yeah?" He questioned, a small smile on his face. You looked at him briefly before smiling nervously as you hid your face in your knees before speaking, "I like it better out here...away from momma and papa." Sabo didn't say anything for a moment before nodding as he went and took a leaf out of your hair. "Yeah, me too! I'm never going back!" He shouted quickly, jumping up, causing you to flinch at the sudden action. "All I need is my little sister by my side, and we'll be able to rule the world!" He cheered, smiling down at you as he offered one of his tiny hands towards you. 

You looked up at him in awe for a moment before smiling a giant smile as you nodded. "Yep!" You cheered, taking his hand in yours as he helped you off the ground. "Hehe! We'll always be together, right Sabo?!?!" You laughed, looking at him with bright (e/c) eyes. Sabo nods at you, giving a big thumbs up, "Yep! That's right!" The two of you laughed at each other before hearing your names being called from behind. "Oi! Sabo! Y/n! Where are you?!" Ace's voice echoed throughout the trees. Sabo smiled as he waved a hand to get his friend's attention. "Over here!" Ace looked at you guys and smiled quickly, running over to you, Luffy following close behind a piece of meat hanging from his mouth. Once Ace reached you both, he placed his hands on his knees, catching his breath before jumping up with immense energy. "Ready for some fun?!" Ace asked, that usual mischievous smirk on his face as he put his hands behind his head. The two of you looked at each other, smiling. 

"Let's do this!" 

________

You silently walked down the halls of the Revolutionary Army's base, your boots clicking against the cement floor echoing off the blank white walls. "Ah! Hey Y/n! There you are!" You heard the familiar voice of a Koala cheer from behind, causing you to stop in your tracks. You looked back and smiled slightly, an eyepatch over your right eye, a bit of a nasty scar leaking out from the small piece of fabric. "Oh, Koala, hello." You greeted softly, slightly nodding as she approached you with a bright smile. "So, how are things? Due to your mission, I haven't seen you in a few days." She whined, giving your shoulder a slight shake, cheeks puffed out.

"You didn't even say goodbye! I was so hurt!" You just smiled at her words as you reached into your pocket, pulling out a small piece of candy before tossing it at the revolutionary officer. "My apologies, Koala, everything just happened so fast that day." You confess sincerity in your voice as you give a small apologetic smile as compensation. Koala hums as she tosses the piece of candy into her mouth. "I guess I can forgive you this time." You just chuckled, giving her a slight nudge, which she returned as you continued to walk down the halls. "As for the mission everything went by smoothly. So I would say it was a success for the revolutionary army!" Koala and you cheered, giving each other high fives for your success against the damn government. 

After a moment of silence, you cleared your throat before glancing over at your friend. "... How's Sabo?" Your tone was a pained one filled with love and concern. Koala gave you a sympathetic smile, nodding in understanding to your sudden question as she went and put a slight skip in her step, placing her hands behind her back. "He's doing good! We just got back from a short mission ourselves." She admitted, nodding to herself as she recalled the mission from memory. You just hummed, not giving much of a response at first as you continued to stare ahead at the floor. "Has any of his memories returned to him yet?" Silence filled the hallway as the two of you stopped walking momentarily. Koala could hear the hope in your voice, causing her to frown as she shook her head sympathetically. "I'm afraid not. I'm sorry, Y/n." Koala whispered, her face showing genuine empathy for you and your situation. 

A frown crossed your face as you sadly looked to the floor, not muttering a word for a moment as you took in all of Koala's terms. You let out a small sigh before continuing to walk down the halls, a defeated smile crossing your face as you shrug slightly. "Oh well! There's nothing we can do about it!" You laughed as Koala tried to keep up with your sudden steps, a sad look in her eyes as she stared at your side profile for a moment before deciding to ask the question she's always wondered about you. "Y/n... isn't it painful?" She questioned, causing you to hum and look over at her, a brow raised in curiosity at her words. She stops a few feet behind you, causing your steps to cease. You turn to her halfway, watching as she looks at you with a mix of emotions in her eyes. "Aren't you sad? Knowing your brother doesn't even remember you?" 

You look at her surprised momentarily before smiling, a small laugh leaving your lips as your fingers gently caress the black fabric covering where your eye had once been. 

________

You had gotten separated from your older brother Sabo, who had been running towards the gates that lead to Gray Terminal to warn Ace and Luffy, along with everyone else, of what was to come soon from the nobles. "Sabo-nii! Sabo-nii, where are you?!?!" You cried out desperately, tears falling from your face. You stood there, right eye wrapped in messy bandages from throwing yourself in front of Ace to shield him from a sword when fighting against the pirates who had taken Luffy away. 

You quickly try to rid the tears from your eye as you begin to run in search of your brother once again. As you run, you feel your foot gets caught in a crack in the cement, causing you to trip and fall flat on your face. "Ouch…" You hiss slowly rising to your feet as you glance down at your scrapped up palms and knees. 

You felt more tears in your eye as you tried to ignore the pain from smashing your face into the cement. "Ace...Luffy..." You cried, gripping the hem of your shirt. "SABO-NII WHERE ARE YOU?!?!" You screamed, just wanting to be with your friends and older brother, scared of what would or could happen to any of them. You hated this place more than anything, as the nobles here only cared about themselves. Your parents didn't even properly care about your brother and yourself either, as they just saw a chance to rise to a higher status while using their children as stepping stones. "I just wanna go home!" As you continued to cry, someone stopped in front of you. "Why are you crying child?" The voice asked. You opened your eyes, tears still blurring as you tried wiping them away so you could see the person standing before you. Finally, being able to look at the person, you see a man wearing a green cloak, his face tattooed. "I...I don't want to be here... it's scary here...I want to leave this place. I want to be free again." You cried, biting your lip. 

"I just wanna be with my friends and big brother!" You cried, looking at the ground. The man said nothing at first while he looked at you, seeing your bandages and the cuts on your knees and hands. Dragon frowned at the sight as he slowly bent down to your level, being cautious not to scare you even more than you already were. "Little girl, are you sure you want to leave here and be free? The world outside can be terrifying and dangerous." He confessed to you, his tone serious as his eyes showed many emotions that overwhelmed your little mind, but you shook that off as you clenched your fist at your shirt. "I know that! I don't care! I can get strong! I can handle the world!" You yelled, eyes filled with determination as you remembered what Sabo had said once about you both being able to take on the world. Dragon smirked at your words as he went and picked you up, catching you by surprise as he carefully placed you on his shoulder. "Then I want you to remember those words you declared out into the world, little girl. Because where I'm going you're gonna have to try and rule the world with your hand." Dragon glanced at you after speaking those words. You just looked at him, your eye showing determination, causing him to smirk as the two of you left your horrible home. You looked back, watching the smoke rise from what you could only assume was Gray Terminal. "Sabo-nii ... .everyone." 

_________

The next day, you stood on Dragon's ship staring out at the kingdom of Goa. 'So...this is a celestial dragons ship.' You thought to yourself, carefully watching as it sailed by. You felt your throat tighten as it became harder to swallow, fear consuming you as you thought of all the stories you had heard about the celestial beings. 'Sabo-nii...where are you?' You thought, worried as you bit your bottom lip, playing with the hem of your shirt once more. As you stare at the kingdom, Dragon walks next to you. 

"Who are you looking for?" He asks calmly, his eyes following your gaze. "My older brother..." You whispered, not finding any reason to hide the truth from the man who saved you, treated your infected eye wound, and is now giving you the freedom you and your brother so desperately craved. "I-I don't want to leave him alone." A frown crosses your face as you think of how worried Sabo must be for you and how you hate causing him problems. Dragon didn't say anything as he silently watched with you. As time passed, you noticed something sailing near the celestial dragons ship. 

"Huh?" You questioned, leaning slightly onto the railing of the ship. Your eye squints to try and see what that figure could be. 'There's a sail as well...' You thought about trying to see who was on the sail. Your eye suddenly went wide in shock when you finally got a good view of the tiny flag. "Sabo-nii?!?!" You cried out in surprise, unable to process what was happening or why he would sail to sea alone. "Hm?" Dragon glanced down at you before following your gaze once more. 'Sabo-nii…were you also finally ready for our freedom?' You thought, gripping the ship's rail, knuckles practically turning white from nerves. You watched as the tiny boat started to pass the celestial Dragon's ship. "This can't be good." You heard Dragon mumble, causing you to shoot your head back up at him with a worried look in your eye. "What do you mean?" You asked confused. A loud explosion sounded before anyone could say anything, causing you to slowly turn your head back to where you had last seen your older brother. 

Your eye widened in horror as you watched your brother's ship get fired at and soon shoot up in fire. "SABO-NII!!!" You screamed desperately, tears forming as you tried to throw yourself over the railing. Dragon grabbed you, making sure to cover your eye so you wouldn't witness the gruesome sight that was taking place as you tried to escape from him. "NO!!! SABO-NII!!!" You screamed, tears falling from your eye as you tried pushing Dragon's hand away from your face. Dragon didn't budge nor say anything as he held you close, glaring at the celestial ship. Once the firing stopped and some time passed, he removed his hand from your eye. You quickly looked at the sea, seeing a destroyed boat. 

"No..." You cried, feeling your entire body start to tremble. "Please! You have to look for him!" You yelled, looking up at Dragon desperately. He only stared down at you, not showing any signs of movement or command to those who followed him. "Please! He's my brother!" You clung to Dragon's clothes, your body trembling as you started to beg the man before you. Dragon watched as your small hands that gripped his cloak violently shook, causing him to let out a small yet heavy sigh. "We'll try." Was all he said before walking away from you, leaving your small form to cry on the ship while thanking him. After searching the water for a while, they were able to find Sabo. "Sabo-nii!" You called, running towards where he was. Once up close, you saw the left side of his face was all burned, causing your eye to widen. You stared at his unconscious form for a moment before quickly going and hugging him while some of the men balanced both of your bodies so neither of you got hurt any further.

"Sabo-nii, I'm sorry! I'm here, so please don't leave me!" You cried, looking down at him. No one on the deck said anything; they could only watch the two of you with sadness. "I'm right here! I won't leave you again, big brother!" 

______

After a few days on the ship, you heard that Sabo was finally awake, causing you to happily run to where he was staying. Once there, you happily threw the door open. "Sabo-nii!" You cheered a giant smile plastered as you saw his eyes look toward you. While unconscious, he sat there surrounded by some of the others on the ship who had been helping take care of him. "I'm so glad you're awake!" You cried, running over to him. He looked up at you with a blank stare before speaking. "Who...are you?" He questioned, tilting his head. Your eye went wide as you stopped in your tracks, no longer running towards his bedside. You felt your entire world crumble as your heart shattered while looking into his eyes. 'He... doesn't remember me..' You thought in disbelief that the brother who loved and adored you so much could suddenly not know of your existence. Dragon and Ivankov watched you in pitied silence, waiting to hear what you had to say to the boy who no longer recalled being your older brother. You stood there momentarily, bangs shadowing half of your face before smiling a pained smile. 

"I'm... I'm a friend!" 

__________

You open your eye, a tear gently falling down your cheek as you brush it away with your thumb. "Of course it hurts..." You admitted going and placing a hand over your chest. "Every day, I remember that my older brother doesn't know who I am. Every day, I watch him go by, smiling at everyone without knowing that his little sister is standing right before him." You said, tears burning your only eye as you hiss, cursing your emotions. "It hurts so bad, Koala..." You cried, looking at her. "I've watched him grow up by my side but not as my brother…as a friend, a comrade, someone he thinks he met for the first time on a ship that gave us our freedom from the hell we called home." Koala looked at you with tears as she witnessed all your pain come out at that moment; your eye told her everything she needed to know. 

 "But...at least I'm still by his side." You sighed, removing the last tears before returning to your usual monotone self. Koala stood there for a moment before practically tackling you in a hug. "I'm so sorry! Y/n!" The officer cried into your ear, catching you by surprise before you slowly hugged her back, whispering a small thank you for her empathy towards you. "Thank you, Koala..." After a moment, the two of you pulled away. You nod at her before pointing towards where you both were heading. "Shall we move on?" You quiz, raising a brow at her curiously with a slight grin. She only nods her head as the two of you start walking. 

"Hm? Oh! Y/n-San! Koala! Hello!" You heard that familiar voice cheer from ahead. You looked up to see Sabo smiling happily at the two of you, his hand waving. "Hello, Sabo!" Koala called, waving to him. You just smiled at him, giving a small nod of acknowledgment. "Are you two going to see the paper?" He asked, tilting his head. "Yes, I was just on my way there." You spoke calmly, causing Sabo's attention to turn to you, and he smiled. "That's awesome! Mind if I tag along with you guys?" He asked, putting his hands together in a pleading motion. You laugh slightly, finding your brother's actions so dumb. "Sure, I don't mind at all!" You spoke with a gentle smile on your face. Koala glanced at you and frowned, knowing that you are most likely still not recovered from opening up to her about the situation a few moments ago. Sabo just smiled at this as you walked down the halls talking. 

You looked over at Sabo, who was happily chatting away to Koala. 'Sabo-nii... it's OK if you don't remember me as your little sister.' You thought, watching as he laughed while hitting Koala on the shoulder. You felt a slight smile tug at your lips, remembering him from when you could still call him your older brother. Sabo hummed, looking over at you, still smiling. 'I'll live with this pain no matter how long it takes....because...' Sabo tilted his head at you while placing a hand on your head, catching you by surprise as you looked at him in awe. "Something wrong Y/n-San?" He looked concerned as he tried to read what was wrong based on your expressions and body language. You just smiled at him, shaking your head. "No, I was just thinking that's all." You reassured him with a slight wave as he removed his hand from your head. He smiles at this, letting out a sigh of relief while scratching the back of his neck. "That's good! Can't go having you get all sad on me now Y/n-San!" He laughed when you looked at him for a moment before laughing at yourself, the two of you placing your arms around each other's shoulders.

'Because as long as I'm by your side I'll live with the pain of you not seeing your little sister is right here...after all I'll always love my big brother.'

[voiidvagabond]

For the fandom asks - 1, 14, 15? Xx

Woo, hello! I didn't know which list you wanted, so you get a TRIPLE ATTACK! >:3

end of the year asks

1. favorite fic you wrote this year. I'll go by what I've posted, and I did post a lot! I'm so proud of myself :3 One fic I keep going back to and re-reading because it just gives me giddy giggles is "Better Without the Poison" which is a DS9 fics and a little on the darker side hehe.

14. a fic you didn’t expect to write. I had no idea that I would get sucked so completely into Dead Boy Detectives and end up with my most popular fic to date, "Like Knives Clattering to the Ground", which is also up there for my favorite fic.

15. something you learned this year. I got well-acquainted with the delicate balance of writing/finishing fics and doing my coursework for uni. I'm not sure why, but this term it was much harder for me to stop writing fic and work on my graded stuff 😅

author asks

1. How long have you been writing fanfic? I have been writing fic since 2016! I've been posting on AO3 since 2017. Almost a decade :D It's been such an amazing time and it has helped fuel my creative endeavors in all modalities and in original works as well.

14. What's the average word count of all of your published fics? I went and did the math with my stats page just now! My average count is 5,737 words. That's a pretty interesting number, because I often think of myself as a longer fic writer. I suppose the number is skewed though, because I have some illustrations that have 0 words.

15. Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chapter fics? This is a difficult question. I feel like the answer should be multi-chapter but statistically I think I have more one-shots? I feel like I prefer one- or two-shots but sometimes I have trouble keeping my ideas short and I end up with longer fics than I intend. It really depends on the story, though. I bend to the whims of the story and format accordingly.

more fic writer asks

1. the last sentence you wrote. A sketchbook, three different models of comms, a loose diamond credit card, a tangle of multicolored wires, and a wide black box fell out.

14. where do you get your inspiration? The world! It's a cheesy answer, but it is the truth! Often I get inspired by moments in a respective fandom's canon but I do a lot of AU work and divergence so much of that will come from experience or some random strike of "Oh! That's what I want to say!" I'm fascinated by what characters will do if I put them in situations that they've never been in, be it physically, emotionally, or mentally. So if I'm reading something or I see something in life that clicks, it goes in the ideas bin. I also enjoy exploring disabilities, disorders, and variations on the human condition. Much of my recent work has included some facet of that which ties into my love for research. I also have a myriad of playlists for different fandoms/pairings/AUs that I can set to play if I need a jumpstart.

15. favorite weather for writing. Ideally, I love an overcast or rainy day because it's a perfect excuse to sit inside and write. I also love a day that's far too cold to be outside in but has that crisp, bright sunlight. I sit next to a window and get the slightly warmer sunlight on me while I type away! But let's be real, any weather is my favorite weather for writing if the inspiration is there!

ask me stuff!

[crystallineconflict]

i got tagged in a post awhile ago to share my five favorite fics i've written (ty @lilbittymonster !) and i love any excuse to share fic so teehee wahoo. :^)

if u see this post, feel free to consider yourself tagged!

medias res - aka dsr fic. another timeline's warrior of light dies, triggering a timeloop. arcelia is pulled in to that timeline to help. unfortunately, that means fighting the alternate version of her (still tempered at the time) boyfriends. the longest fic i've published to date and a labor of love, this one means a lot to me. i had a lot of fun writing one of my interpretations of how an ultimate raid might look in a canonical context (though, i'm still not sure if it's canonical for arcelia). lots of angst and very bittersweet the whole way through.

all this, and love too - aka little wife fic, aka breeding kink fic. grinnaux decides they're ready for a baby. arcelia considers. it's exactly what it sounds like. i still think it's sweet, too. even with all the cum.

once more, with violent feeling - aka monsterfucking fic. an alternate universe fic in which a tempered, kotr-ified (primal) paulecrain catches his ex-situationship out on her way through the aetherochemical research facility. they both need to kill each other. instead, they do something else. :^) i think this one's still underrated hehe.

apricity - the first grinncelia fic i ever wrote, and the first time i got hit with the "ah, oh no, maybe this isn't as much of a crackship as i initially thought it was". a short one-shot morning-after fic. still one of my favorite fics, too.

burning hour - aka heatfic. arcelia's a miqote. it was obligatory to write. humor smut fic in which the men are fighting for their lives for once as they try to deal with their hopelessly horny not-girlfriend. still cute, i think, too.

[merrycrisis-if]

okokokokkAYHSAHAHJA i had to turn off my notifs for your blogs for a few days to avoid all the spoilers bc i was literally so so excited for this update shsjsksjs

BUT before i talk about qiu i just wanna talk about shay for a sec because PleajsjeksSksja they’re the sweetest 😭😭 when they gave mc their band merch and said “you can have it for free because i like you so much” THAT WAS SO CUTE SHAY IS SO CUTE 🥰🥰🥰 also i love the irony in the breakfast scene of shay being the neighbor mc just met and the first meal they make for them is the closest thing that reminds mc of their grandma ugh i love shay’s spouse potential <33

NOW. QIU. THAT NERD HAS ME BY THE NECK!!!!!!!! i waited for this very update for so long and it cost me my emotional stability. i’m genuinely emotionally drained but it was so So worth it. that flashback took all of my energy. i wasn’t already feeling good about the grades scene and qiu unintentionally insinuating “we have the same grades but i need to do better” but when they almost said the L word i gasped SHDJSJ but yeah i was stupidly hoping that was just the incident

i thought i was prepared for it because i already knew it was gonna be sad. but mannnnn my heart was not spared from the heartbreak. qiu saying “we’re just friends” without stuttering <////3 but no matter how justified it is to be upset with them i just can’t pick the angry options because i Get it. i relate to them being a helpless kid incapable of making their own choices because of the pressure their parents placed on them. and their mom being so harsh like i know they’re all fictional but her words felt personal 😭 also qiu holding back their tears when they asked mc to leave………. pain

and the breakup. my god. when qiu was begging mc to not let them choose and said “please i can’t” istg i wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. i played both the breakup variation and pretending the whole thing with their mom never happened <//3 when qiu was like “so this is it?” and kissed mc’s forehead before walking away :((((( pls it truly fucked me up how they never had any labels but had to go through an actual breakup. but also the scene before the little going away party where qiu was like “do you want me to cry and beg you to stay?” :((((((( EVERYTHING HURTS! qiumancers are put on this earth to suffer

but qiu finally saying i love you and then the love scene before the goodbye :((( them being less calculated about it and just fully giving into their feelings really felt like a goodbye 💔 and when they were like “if we’re both still single let’s give this another shot” like qiu pls don’t make this harder for me and my mc 😪✋🏼

Omg HELLOOOOO ngl I re-read your ask (and your second one) like, at least 20 times. Thank you for sticking by merry crisis, and your messages truly never fail to singlehandedly make writing this IF worth it :P

I know you love Qiu but the fact that you enjoyed Shay's scenes too makes me so happy. Absolutely 1000% spouse material. Like excuse me they'd water the plants and cook and probably dance in the kitchen with ya.

Hehe I'm so happy that you enjoyed (ok maybe enjoyed is the wrong word) the "please I can't" moment, and the "so this is it" moment and the "do you want me to cry and beg you to stay" moment (OH and the last love scene!). Those were definitely the highlights of writing the flashback for me.

qiumancers are put on this earth to suffer

HAHAHA. Yes. But also.... a semi happy ending is possible, I promise :)