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kanerallels · 11 months

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My story for @sw-olives-and-grapes, which I finished JUST in time last night! It's a little messy and I'm not totally satisfied with the ending, but I hope you guys like it nonetheless!

Read on AO3!

(note for those who don't follow the link: Hera and Kanan's outfits are inspired by pictures I've seen of the Chinese hanfu! Also there are no real content warnings here)

“COME ON GUYS WE’RE GONNA BE LATE!”

“Since when is Ezra the one who wants to be on time?” Caleb Dume muttered, tugging at the collar of his tunic for the thousandth time. His formal Jedi robes might have been right for the occasion, but that didn’t stop them from being more uncomfortable than his usual attire.

Hera’s voice was muffled by the closed door of her room, where she was changing. “Probably since Sabine’s the one doing the fireworks after the ceremony. And he’s grown up more than we give him credit for, dear.”

“Don’t remind me,” Caleb said, sighing and letting the back of his head thump against the wall he was leaning against. “Seems like just yesterday he was falling off of roofs and causing international incidents with Mandalorians. Now he’s well on his way to becoming a Knight.”

As painful as it was to see his Padawan growing up, he was also proud. Ezra had become much wiser and more powerful since Caleb had first met him, and he was growing into a fine Jedi.

“You’ve done a good job of teaching him,” Hera pointed out, her tone knowing— as it always was. It sharpened into something a little more amused as she added, “And as I recall, you had a little something to do with that particular international incident.”

“Well, what was I supposed to do?” Caleb grumbled as Hera’s bedroom door hissed open. “Just leave you and Sabine to— wow.”

Hera lifted an eyebrow at him as she stepped out of the room. “You’re staring, Caleb.”

“I’m not,” Caleb said, staring. “You just… you look really nice.”

Nice didn’t quite sum it up. She was wearing a dress— a simple dark blue undertunic, with a full, fluttering skirt over it. It shaded from blue to a pale silver towards the hem, as did the light blue edged robe she wore over it. The upper half of the tunic had a blue panel, embroidered with silver and darker blue. Similar embroidery marked the hem of the robe.

The colors shimmered against her skin, and the flowing fabric made her look elegant and beautiful and Caleb felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of her, like it so often did.

Judging by the half amused, half embarrassed smile Hera was giving him, he was still staring. Clearing his throat, Caleb said, “I, uh, I assumed you’d be wearing your dress uniform.”

“I was going to,” Hera said wryly. “But somehow, there was a mishap in the laundry, and Ezra turned it an unflattering shade of pink. And then it happened to be out when Sabine was working on getting the fireworks ready, and she set it partially on fire.”

Caleb snorted. “Wow. You’d almost think they were planning something like this.” Knowing Sabine and Ezra’s propensity for mischief, he wasn’t exactly surprised. Especially when he noted how similar the color of his blue and gray robes were to Hera’s dress.

Rolling her eyes, Hera said, “Oh, yeah. That would be such a shock, knowing these two.”

“HERA, CALEB, ZEB’S HERE AND HE’S IMPATIENT TOO,” Ezra yelled from down at the entry bay. “CAN WE JUST GO ALREADY?”

Exchanging an amused look with Hera, Caleb said, “We should probably get going.” Offering her his arm, he asked, “Are you ready?”

Looping her arm through his, Hera replied, “Always, dear.”

Together, they headed down to the entry bay. Ezra was waiting, wearing his own set of formal robes and bouncing up and down on his heels with impatience. Zeb was with him, looking bored and slightly fancier than usual in his Lasat Honor Guard uniform. Chopper was, for once, waiting near them without making trouble, although Kanan had a feeling that wouldn’t last long.

“Finally,” Ezra said, spotting them. “Let’s go! You look really nice, Hera. Uh, sorry about your uniform.”

“Don’t worry about it, Ezra,” Hera assured him. “And you’re right, we should get going. We don’t want to miss Caleb’s ceremony, after all.”

Letting out a groan as they headed down the ramp, Caleb said, “Don’t remind me.”

“What, you’re not looking forward to getting up in front of all those people?” Zeb asked, his grin just a little too wicked. “Getting that award and whatnot?”

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Caleb told him. “And it’s not an award, it’s just a ceremony honoring some of the people who fought in the last battles of the war here on Coruscant—”

“Like you,” Ezra said cheerfully. “And Rex— he’s gonna be there, right?”

“I think so— Ahsoka said she wanted someone there to distract her from being bored out of her mind,” Hera said, and Caleb snorted.

“Skywalker’s gonna be there. None of us are going to be bored.”

Together, they made their way to the speeder parked at the edge of the landing platform. As Zeb, Ezra, and Chopper slid into the back seat, Caleb took the front passenger seat, and Hera arranged her skirts neatly around her as she sat in the driver’s seat. Bringing the speeder to life, she moved them forward and into the flow of Coruscanti traffic.

Despite the general nature of traffic on Coruscant, especially in the evening, it wasn’t long before they arrived. Their goal, a small meeting hall in the upper levels, was lit up for the occasion, and surrounded by speeders— most of them piloted by droids dropping off their occupants.

As Hera brought their speeder to a stop nearby, switching it off, Caleb vaulted out and headed around to her side. Offering her a hand, he said, “Can I give you a hand?”

Accepting it, Hera let him help her out of the speeder, remarking, “Such a gentleman.”

“Well, I was raised right,” Caleb said, and behind them, Ezra groaned.

“If you guys are just going to flirt all night, I’m leaving.”

“Come on, Ezra,” came a familiar voice, and Caleb turned to see Ahsoka Tano heading towards them, grinning. She wore a sleeveless black dress with a high collar and a long skirt, her sabers hanging from a belt on either hip. “If you say that, you’ll be gone before they serve the food. Let alone the fireworks.”

“Fair enough,” Ezra said, heaving a long, dramatic sigh. “Guess I’ll just suffer.”

Rolling his eyes, Caleb turned to Ahsoka. “Good to see you— have you seen any of the others, yet?”

“Rex is inside,” she replied. “I came out here to look for you, and the Skywalker-Amidala brood.”

“I have a feeling we’ll hear him coming,” Hera said wryly. “Ezra, Zeb, Chopper, we should probably find our seats. I’ll be with you in just a minute.”

Ezra didn’t protest— another sign of how much he’d grown over the years, Caleb mused— just nodded and headed towards the hall, Zeb and Chopper on his heels.

Turning to him, Hera studied him for a moment. “Are you nervous?” she asked, moving forward to smooth down the front of his robes and straighten the sleeves.

Caleb let her. He’d be lying if he said he minded.”Not really,” he said. “Mostly it seems like a big deal over nothing. I didn’t even do that much, and it was years ago.”

“You and I both know it was more than nothing,” Hera pointed out. “There are people here today— Jedi especially, who wouldn’t be here without you.” Checking him over one last time, she added, “If it helps, I’m sure this is far from the only thing you’ll be remembered for.”

“As long as you remember me, that’s all that really mattered,” Caleb told her, which drew a smile across her face. Stepping a little closer, she pressed a kiss against his cheek, and Caleb had to resist the urge to turn it into a proper kiss, to pull her closer still.

Drawing back, Hera smiled at him in the way that said she knew exactly what he was thinking. And I’m supposed to be the Jedi around here. “I’ll be watching in the crowd. Good luck, love.”

And with that, she turned and headed inside, taking most of Caleb’s concentration with her. It was more than a few seconds before he registered Ahsoka calling his name. Glancing at her, startled, he saw her grinning at him. “Way to be subtle, Dume. You’d put Skyguy to shame.”

“Okay, that’s just mean,” Caleb told her as a speeder zipped out of the traffic towards them, coming to a sharp stop that nearly slammed into the side of the landing platform. Caleb was not remotely surprised to recognize Anakin Skywalker in the driver’s seat. He was steering with one hand, smiling easily as he hopped out and moved to assist his wife, Senator Amidala. The senator wore a dress of satiny, dark purple fabric, simply and elegantly cut. The bishop sleeves were a sheer, paler purple, beaded in sparkling patterns. Her hair was twisted up in a mass of braids around her head, strands of gems shimmering in the braids. This provided a sharp contrast to Skywalker himself, who wore simple dark brown and black robes and had his hair cut short.

Two of their children, Luke and Leia, were with them. Leia was dressed in simple but elegant white with her hair pulled back in braids twisted with silver, and Luke wore black, like his father. The blonde boy caught sight of Ahsoka and Caleb and waved as he followed his mother and sister inside. Anakin headed in as well, but not before stopping to chat with a group of men clad in blue and white armor.

“It’ll be good to see Anakin again,” Ahsoka remarked. “He gets so busy with his… mechanic shop that isn’t a front for any kind of vigilante activity.”

“I always forget how subtle your lineage is,” Caleb quipped, lifting an eyebrow at the Togruta Jedi, who rolled her eyes at him.

“You’re not much better yourself. How are you feeling about the ceremony?”

Caleb took a minute before shrugging. “Fine. It seems a little unnecessary to invite me— I mean, I barely did anything. Everyone handling the Chancellor were Jedi Knights at the very least. All I did was talk to one clone trooper at the exact right time.”

“You saved his life, and the lives of others,” Ahsoka pointed out quietly. “Don’t underestimate that.”

“Hm. And then there’s you, who—”

“Showed up fifteen minutes late with Spacebucks?”

“I was going to say who took out a former Sith lord, crashed her ship, and showed up here in time to help me,” Caleb said wryly. “But sure, that too.”

Ahsoka laughed. “Come on, let’s get in there before we get wrangled by some poor event organizer. The sooner it’s done, the sooner we eat.”

“Now you’re speaking my language.”

They headed into the hall, following Skywalker and a few others who were chatting quietly. The antechamber they entered into still held a few people, but Caleb could see most of them had moved into the main body of the hall. It was filling up quickly, and he felt his first twinge of nervousness.

“You’re feeling nervous now, aren’t you?” Ahsoka asked, sounding amused. “I’ve seen you wrangle bloodthirsty mobs— all you have to do now is stand there.”

“I know, I know,” Caleb grumbled. “Unlike you, however, I’ve never done one of these things before. Since, you know, I didn’t actually do all that much.”

“We can have this debate later. Come on, we’re supposed to be backstage.”

Heaving a long sigh, Caleb followed her down a side hall and into a back room, where there were a handful of others. Among them were Skywalker, Masters Tapal, Junda, Fisto, and Windu. The latter of which looked up at their entry, and gave Caleb one of his non-smiles. “Caleb.”

“Master Windu,” Caleb said, smiling at him and giving a respectful bow. “Good to see you.”

Ahsoka gave a brief nod, muttering under her breath, “I still can’t believe you two get along so well.”

“He’s my grand-master, Ahsoka. Besides, the only reason you don’t really get along is because your lineage is full of lunatics.”

“Okay that is not why AT ALL—”

The sound of applause from onstage cut Ahsoka off, and Master Junda said, “That’s our cue. Skywalker, Windu, take the lead?”

The duo exchanged a slightly amused look, and headed out onto the stage together. Caleb, resisting the urge to run a hand through his hair, followed the rest of the Jedi, Ahsoka right behind him.

The stage held only a podium, where Senator Bail Organa stood. Caleb knew the man— not well, but he liked him. Senator Organa gave them an encouraging nod and smile as they lined up behind him on the stage, along with a small crowd of clones. Caleb recognized Rex and Commander Fox, and gave them a quick nod as Senator Organa started speaking.

“Welcome, everyone,” he said, his voice amplified by the microphone. The murmuring crowds quieted down anyway, turning their attention to him. Caleb started looking for Hera as the senator continued.

“I’m glad to see you all here. Today we celebrate the twenty year anniversary of the end of the Clone War. While there were still battles fought with the Separatist remnants after this point, this was the day, twenty years ago, that the Jedi engaged and defeated the Sith Lord who had taken over our Senate, and, with the help of some of our noblest members of the Grand Army of the Republic, retook the Senate building from the troopers under his control.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Caleb saw Fox shift fractionally, and he held back a wince of sympathy. The commander had been one of the ones Palpatine had been controlling, along with most of his men. He’d nearly been responsible for a lot of lives lost.

“When the Jedi’s valor is mentioned, I find that, far too often, we gloss over the role of the GAR,” Senator Organa continued. “Both those who arrived on site with their generals and those who, once freed from the Chancellor’s control, joined our side. Without the help of men like Commander Fox, our Republic would not be where it is today.”

Caleb couldn’t hold back a grin as he heard raucous cheers coming from the audience, where several armored troopers were pounding their feet against the ground in approval. Senator Organa smiled as well, and waited for silence until he continued.

“The revelation of the Chancellor’s deception and his intention to tear down the Republic, replacing it with his dictatorial Empire, was a shock to everyone. Our trust was shaken, but we kept moving. Life as we knew it was suspended, an interim chancellor was put in place. We turned to the Jedi for help, and they came through as they often do, as did the warriors of the GAR, to whom we owe so much.”

The senator paused, looking somber. “There is much that could be said about this time. About how we finally righted some great wrongs against certain citizens of our Republic, or how we managed to bring the Separatists back. About how we managed to bring a time of peace. That last part is what I would like to focus on tonight, though.

“Our time of peace was only brought about by working together, by setting aside differences for the greater good. And that, my friends, is something I would like all of you to remember.” Leaning forward, Senator Organa said, “Our greatest times will come when we work together. Not when we are divided by strife or arguments.”

He paused, letting the words sink in, then smiled. “But we didn’t gather here tonight so I could lecture you. We’re here to celebrate— to celebrate those who sacrificed their lives for us and those who are still here. And to celebrate the victory we achieved together. Because together, we’re better.”

As Senator Organa spoke the last words, Caleb finally found Hera in the crowd. She caught his gaze and smiled, and it was like she was the only thing in the galaxy that existed. Together, we’re better, he thought. I’ve never heard something more true in my life. A smile crossed his face.

He barely heard the applause as the senator ended his speech and the crowd rose to their feet. All that mattered was the moment when they moved off the stage, and Hera was with him, catching hold of his hand and giving it a quick squeeze.

Later would come dinner and reuniting with old friends, speeches from other veterans and Jedi and the most incredible fireworks in the galaxy. But all that really mattered were the people at his side now.

#star wars rebels #swr #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #kanera #ezra bridger #garazeb orrelios #chopper swr #mace windu #ahsoka tano #bail organa #writing stories is a kind of magic too #sw-olives-and-grapes

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gummybugg · 1 year

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🗡️Writeblr Battle Royale!💥

Super glad I to got to work with @quisyop on this battle scene between my oc Blair (from Crater City) and their oc Io (from Orbit of Thieves)! Thanks @writeblrbattleroyale for hosting this event! Really enjoyed it and yall should Really check out the other opponents' fights :'D

Without further ado, welcome to the violence and gore of the battle between Blair vs Io! 🎉⚔️

POV: 1st person, Blair

Warning: mentions of blood and gore

...

I woke up with a splitting headache that would put jackhammers to shame. I must have had a massive hangover.... Except, I found myself in a place I had never been before.

Somewhere vast but enclosed. Somewhere bright but also dark. Somewhere starch but gruesome. Reminded me of the dentist’s. It sent shivers down my spine.

Maybe I really had blacked out drunk. I was in some sort of stadium like I’d seen in an old gladiator movie. Man, do I really gotta fight a lion?

Someone overhead was speaking, interrupting my thoughts, but I couldn't make out all the words due to its intense reverb. Looks like someone needs to get their speakers checked. I would have offered to take a look at them with no extra charge, except I didn’t take this whole killing-game-thing too lightly.

"Welcome to the battle my...contestants. Welcome to....bloodshed. I am M, your humble game master. In front of me are our contenders....The only way out is either killing your opponent or dying. These two are a...interesting duo! I just can’t wait for the show!"

Soon, "Livin' la Vida Loca" by Ricky Martin began playing in the overhead speakers. Well, at least they have good music taste.

I wonder what M stands for. Maybe their name is so embarrassing that they only want to be known by a single letter. Or maybe if you utter their name you'll get cursed. Or die. Or summon Satan! Gah, focus on the task at hand, Blair, your life is at stake!

I saw Elijah in the stands among a sea of blank faces. I waved back, but he didn't seem so enthused. He yelled something at me but I couldn’t really make it out too well.

M announced my name and the name of my opponent. I couldn't exactly hear what their name was or see what they looked like so far away (about 50 feet, more or less), so I decided to go and ask them.

Surely they don't take that ego-inflated asshat M that seriously. Battle to the death? Come on, I have better things to spend my time on. Like running from authorities.

"Hey, dude!" I waved at the figure in the distance that seemed unmoving.

As I approached him, I began to piece together a better picture: this guy was much taller than me. He had a dark complexion, gray hair, and a serious vibe. And he was wearing formal attire. Why didn't anyone tell me this was a formal event? I looked down. Yep, I was still in my t-shirt and cargo shorts. How terribly underdressed!

There was no response from the man, even though we were six feet apart at this point.

"Hi, so–" I kept my hands visible.

Then he performed one of those roundhouse kicks and made me fall on my ass! My croc flew up in the air. I grabbed it before it hit the ground, then proceeded to bat his face as he attempted to strangle me.

"Io knocks Blair down and strangles him!" The speakers blare.

"What is wrong with you? Are you irradiated or something?" I gasped, struggling to get back on my feet.

"Stay still!" He clocked my jaw with the hilt of his gun, then placed his hands around my neck, "I said, stay still!"

"Why are you so mean?" I spit out a tooth. Metallic fluids filled in the gap.

I wedged my hands between his grip on my neck, pulling him down for a kick in the chest. This didn't seem to slow him down because he lunged at me again. I dodged in an effort to slash his arm with my balisong. But he was too slippery! I couldn't even grace the hairs on his body!

"Wait, you can't kill me! I don't even know your name!" I called, wiggling around him. I clawed at his face to unsteady his aim.

Then a gunshot sounded.

I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder. Blood soaked through my shirt. Something must have grazed my shoulder…? Well, at least it blends in, I reasoned.

Oh, shit. Wait, he really does have a gun, doesn’t he?

"Hey, what was that for, man?" I beat him with my croc, the jagged jibbitz drawing blood on his cheek. I peeled back a small chunk of his eye with the edge of a heart charm.

"You bastard, get that shoe–" He took my croc and tossed it across the stadium "–outta my face!"

"Hey, you owe me 60 credits for that!”

Then he aimed a gun at my face.

Rude.

“And you owe me your life. Goodbye, Blair." He sneered, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair.

Oh, I don’t like it when they sneer.

With record speed, I swung open my balisong. A few tricks ought to knock his ego down a few pegs! I decided to perform a classic: the old Van Gogh trick. A toss of the knife up in the air to be snatched next to my ear.

But before the knife could slip comfortably into the crook of my neck, a bullet ricocheted off the blade midair and right into some guy’s head in the audience. His head exploded like a piñata, showering those behind him in red. The crowd cheered. Well, except the dead guy.

My knife clattered to the ground.

“Io’s bullet ricochets off of Blair’s blade!” M announced.

Oh, so that’s what his name is. And what was with the old-timey ammo? Didn't everyone use electric weapons these days? Well, at least he’s human and not a droid. Right? I'm at least 80% sure he's human.

“How did you…?" Io narrowed his eyes, shifting his weight. I wasn't sure how I pulled off that stunt either, but I wasn't gonna tell him that. "Doesn't matter," he positioned his aim. The ground pulsed dramatic shades, syncing to the beat of the song. It was like some sick and twisted dance battle to the death.

Click.

Click. Click. Click.

The sweet sound of an empty gun.

"Uh-oh! Seems Io has run out of ammo!" M inserted himself. The crowd gasped.

"Shit!” He rubbed his temple.

My eyes caught the large crates in the distance behind Io, who fumbled with his gun for a moment. They were probably chock-full of that precious old-school ammo.

But Io didn't take his eyes off of me. In fact, he raised a brow at me. But just before he could follow my gaze, I pulled a fast one. I grabbed my knife.

It spun swiftly around my finger, flicking upward in a triple somersault. But gravity wasn't on my side, since it launched the first two joints from my left pinkie at Io's face.

Well, you win some, you lose some.

"What the–did you just throw your finger at me?"

"And Blair uses a secret family technique: confuse-your-opponent-by-slinging-a-severed-finger-at-them!" M announced as the crowd oohed and ahhed.

The look on Io's face was horrifying. Truly a look of pure bloodlust. He wiped the severed finger off with the back of his hand as if it were a chip crumb. My finger lay on the ground in a small pool of red, all alone.

"Uh, oh."

I booked it to the large, wooden crates, which sat on the other side of the stadium. I had to get there before he did, or else I’d turn into Piñata Man. Thankfully my years of running from the law finally paid off. Suddenly I was the poster boy for the Presidential Challenge, and no one could stop me!

"Come over here, you slippery bastard!" Io swung his gun at my head as he got closer and closer. He was definitely a fast one.

"Yeah, for you to turn me into swiss cheese? Everyone knows string cheese solos!" I called into the wind. Whether or not he heard what I said was out of my control. I had a pile of crates waiting for me to guard!

Along the curved wall of the stadium were ads for movies I had never heard of before: Chess vs Brooke, Mary vs Ametrine, Herschel vs Jackson… Then I saw our reflections bounce off the reflective gaps in between each poster. Io ran with the speed and grace of a gazelle before being attacked by prey. Except I was the poor excuse of a bush that he was chasing after.

"And Io and Blair are racing to the crates! Who will get there first?" The speakers announced. "It was about time they noticed. I thought the materials were going to go to waste…"

Io finally threw his gun at my head, but missed due to my tendency to run in a zigzagging motion.

From the sidelines, Elijah cheered me on, a stained paper bag in hand: "You better not die, Blair!"

"Not in the plans!" I shouted back.

I was about as nimble as a baby hippo, but used this feature to my advantage–suddenly stopping, dropping, and rolling to catch Io by surprise–causing him to trip. I rolled back, putting all my weight on his spine, planting his face on the ground. Quickly, I pinned one arm with my knee and one right arm with my hand.

"You don't know what you're doing, Blair!" He wriggled like a worm in a petri dish. Probably because the ground tasted like ass. I held the blade of my balisong to his neck.

Io seemed confused at my special fighting techniques I picked up from the city streets because he mentioned something about my freakish skills and complete lack of self-regard. I shrugged it off; it was just a couple of flesh wounds. The pain was just now setting in, though, so I was getting a bit antsy.

"In a shocking turn of events, Blair has Io pinned!" M sounded as if he were smiling. At least someone got a kick out of our pain. "Will this be Io's last few moments?"

"Get off of me!" Io wriggled more viciously.

"Listen, I really don't want to kill you," I pressed the blade into his skin. "But your attitude is telling me to reconsider."

"I don't need your pity." He spat on my croc. "Eat shit."

This felt…too easy.

But I couldn't just release him. No, this man was even more unpredictable than me. I couldn't take any chances.

It wasn't like I enjoyed any of this. Just yesterday I took Elijah to his favorite restaurant after news of a new lead. Info on the guy who tried to kill him for his debt that one night. I'd get to avenge Elijah, finally. I was so close. We were so close.

Is this what my life has come to? Fighting violence with more violence? Am I really as heartless and impulsive as they tell me?

It’s not supposed to end this way.

I dug the blade deep into Io's neck with a sickening squelch, watching the blood pool around his head in the shape of a halo. Reflecting back was the blank stare of a cold-blooded killer. I pressed harder into the wound my hands had inflicted.

My blood–no, Io’s blood–sputtered on the arm that pinned him down. My eyes were unmoving. They did not look away until the pressure of the liquid calmed.

There was not a single twitch. No retort. No fighting back.

Maybe there really is no other way to save things. I am doomed to repeat these violent tendencies.

"It seems Blair has delivered the final blow! What a conclusive ending to such a speedy battle!" M's voice echoed in stereo, the audience absolutely losing their minds.

I don't think I like this anymore…Does this make me a monster? I was just doing what I had to do to survive. What does Elijah think of it all? My thoughts spun faster and faster.

I turned to the crowd, but his face was nowhere to be seen. Had I just imagined it? Was he ever there to begin with?

I looked down at Io's lifeless body. Nothing had changed. He was still dead, and my hands were still connected to the weapon.

The crowd cheered my name. My name. The name of a murderer.

I released the balisong from my grip. Io's sticky blood coated each finger like a coat of cheap paint, the same way kids play with red paint when pretending to be a vampire. But I wasn't a kid, this was real life. I wasn’t a vampire, but a murderer.

“Congratulations, Blair, you have made it to the second round!” M roared, the crowd continuing to chant my name. The stadium lit up in an array of bright colors, and confetti poured down from the invisible ceiling. Cannons and fireworks went off, making me jump. Their popping sounded similar to that of a gun firing.

I buried my face in my hands. They smelled of metal. They stained my lips. I saw red through my fingers as I tilted my head up to the source of M's voice.

What has he done to me?

No.

Why did I let him get to me?

...

🚗 Want to rot your brain with each sporadic Crater City post? Join the taglist! Maybe I'll finish this wip someday, who knows! (ask to be added/removed): @writeouswriter @lyra-brie @digitalsatyr23

#writeblr battle royale #writeblr #co writing #crater city wip #blair vs io #mention of blood #mention of gore #writing game #writeblr game #creative writing #quisyop: Orbit of Thieves #yayyy!

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deepspacedukat · 7 months

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Hey Fren! 😄 I know I kinda drop off but I’m popping back in to check on y’all. How are you? -AzoraStarr

Also just a thought, just leaving this here. So two versions of the same thing, next post is gonna be the second version. Sorry it’s slow at the beginning I’m setting the scene 😂

Version one: Is in modern Star Trek. Star fleet was having a Gala that was being hosted on Vulcan and a vulcan Star fleet Engineer named Vorant had met up with one of his old childhood friends a Vulcan Artist named Perren (He is tall, slender but not wiry he has toned compact muscle, angular jaw, medium brown skin with stunning silvery eyes and black longer for a Vulcan hair) who was on the committee in charge of putting the gala together- (Remember that scenario I had with the fish tank and a vulcan saying he has a high maintenance friend that would be perfect for her, imma call her Zephyra, she’s a science officer, minored in medical, creative and dabbling artist, loves music and animals, very energetic and adventurous, smart but kinda flaky unintentionally)

Of course at first Vorant began with the proper formalities which he made sure to move past quickly knowing his old friend Perren had a particular dislike for small talk and for a Vulcan would get impatient or disinterested quickly, disliking the mundane conversational routine. However Vorant mainly kept the conversation light discussing work, interesting developments, and art not wanting to immediately get into such a sensitive topic such as relationships and Pon Farr just yet. Especially since Perren was especially sensitive to the topic between his first marriage arrangement had fallen in love with her coworker and threatened kal-if-fee if he (and his family) didn’t agree to drop the arrangement and the second possible choice had declined after only two short visit meetings saying his emotions were too close to the surface, saying he was disorganized (for a Vulcan), led by his passions, always traveling and not ready to settle, and of course too sensitive. Obviously after that word had gotten around and Perren’s chances of finding a mate and surviving his quickly approaching Pon Farr were considerably bleak.

Vorant after getting Perren on the topic of comparing alien art to their own Vulcan art was about to approach the topic of mates seeing at Perren’s mood had improved with the turn in conversation when Vorant heard his name called by a familiar voice. Vorant acknowledged and gave a slight wave to signal Zephyra that she wasn’t interrupting and was welcome to approach. Perren however had gone still the emotion swirling in his silver eyes betraying him. Zephyra had gotten dressed up for the occasion, wearing black-dark blue gown with silver sequence stars that brought out her hazel eyes, and her white hair half down framing her freckled face. “I clean up nice don’t I?” She laughed trying to hide her nervousness at meeting Vorant’s friend. At her comment Perren’s eyebrow twitched up and a ghost of a smile threatened to grow on his face, he was amused finally someone who wasn’t so stiff.

”Indeed.” Vorant agreed and turned to his friend who was strangely silent. “I do believe Perren finds your gown Aesthetically pleasing.” Vorant spoke breaking the silence and covering for Perren, giving his friend time to collect himself.

“I-Yes indeed it is an interesting choice of attire, pleasantly so.” Perren caught himself from saying ‘I do find the gown to be a very pleasing choice’ it would’ve been far too personal especially having just met Zephyra.

“Thank you-Perren. If I’m correct?” Zephyrs held up a Vulcan salute in greeting but turned her focus to Vorant briefly for false confirmation as she knew full well that was him. Vorant had told her about Perren being a like a brother, his likes and dislikes, the trouble he’s been having finding a mate especially with Vorant recently getting married to pour salt into the wound, and when prompted for a picture had conceded as long as she didn’t tell anyone he shared such private information.

“That is correct and you are-?” Perren answered recapturing her attention.

“Oh I’m Zephyra, it’s nice to finally meet you. Vorant had briefly mentioned you before, only good things I promise. You know how meddling us humans can be, we care so we pester, the crew’s like one big family- and I’m rambling. Sorry” she nervously laughed it off, internally facepalming. Perren had a suspicious look cross his face and eyes Vorant seriously.

“The crew of the human ship have dinner together and seem to enjoy to reminisce. In the spirit of sharing stories had asked about my childhood. I simply mentioned I had gone to school with one of the committee members organizing the upcoming gala.” Vorant stated while Zephyra scrambled to wipe the stunned look off her face before it caught Perren’s attention. ‘Vulcans don’t lie my arse’.

”Is that all?” Perren drawled eying his friend and Zephyra was sure Vorant would be sweating profusely if Vulcan biology would’ve allow it. Before anything more could be said some earth music came on in the background which was for the ballroom dances in the garden courtyard.

“You all included human dances?!” Zephyra gasped out looking out wistfully at the garden lit with twinkling rows of lights which captured the attention of both Vulcan men. Vorant stifled a sighing exhale relaxing as Perrens full attention was back on Zephyra who blushed when she noticed they were looking at her “Sorry, I was just surprised. I’ll uh let you two gentlemen resume your conversation.” She turned on her heel slipping into the crowd and Perren watched her form disappear into the crowd with a forlorn look in his eyes. Vorant not willing to give up now, despite the scandalous prospect he was about to suggest, decided to speak.

“My friend, I know your affairs are not my place but I think you should follow her and ask if she will dance with you.” Perren whipped around blinking at his friend, no proper Vulcan would dare dance with anyone but his own wife which is why the committee decided to host the requested human ballroom dance out in the garden, it was out of the way.

“That would hardly be appropriate.” Perren shook his head adamantly, his longer dark hair swishing around his eyes.

“It would be, if Zephyra was a Vulcan woman but she is a human woman-“ Vorant paused glancing around before stepping closer, lowering his voice inconspicuously “I know for a fact that she has always wanted to participate in a slow dance as her schools prom got cancelled. I recommend that you should go find her and ask.” Vorant stepped back and tilted his head in the direction that Zephyra disappeared in. Perren thought for a moment before giving his friend a single nod and gathering up his courage, taking a deep breath and walking into the crowd with a newfound confidence. Zephyra had ended up at the drink table grabbing a water glass with some Vulcan fruit slice in it; her throat was dry from the awkward embarrassment, the need to ramble when anxious not helping her inherent shyness. “Zephyra, my lady. I would like to inquire about a dance…with you.” Perren approached, making sure to slow to a stop prematurely and leave ample space in between them as to not intimidate her.

“I would love to.” Perren felt his chest swell with warmth seeing her beam up at him. Zephyra held out her hand excitedly for him to take and after flicking his eyes from her outstretched hand to her face he hesitantly laid his open palm down on hers barely having time to register the tingling sensation with the brief flickering of her excitement bombarding him before he strengthened his mental walls and was being guided to the garden.

“I am at a loss unfortunately.” As the two found a spot near the fountain a new song was starting up and sudden Perren found himself freezing not knowing what to do. “It’s alright, if it makes you feel any better I’ve never done this before either but-here if you don’t mind.” Zephyra stopped just before grabbing his other hand looking at him for permission.

”Go ahead.” He affirmed, tilting his head slightly in curiosity. She gave a smile and placed one of his hands on her hip and placing her coinciding hand on his shoulder then with his other hand that she was holding intertwined their fingers and explaining how to waltz.

They each got more confident as the song progressed (I’m thinking of the dance scene from enchanted with the song “so close”) and Zephyra taking the liberty to spin once laughing as the corners of Perren’s mouth twitched up for a fraction of a second. When the song was reaching its end Perren forgot himself briefly staring into her eyes and his mental blockade came crushing not only laying his emotions bare for her to experience but allowing him to feel hers.

“That was inappropriate of me and I cannot express how deeply sorry I am.” Perren was quick to throw up the mental block feeling he had violated her privacy and stepped back, pulling away ashamed, he inwardly cringed wanting to close his eyes and disappear.

“Perren it’s alright-“ Zephyrs took a few steps forward closing the distance Perren had created.

“No. No it’s not.” This time he did allow himself to close his eyes preparing for yet another rejection.

“Honey look at me.” Zephyra said softly and at his lack of response carefully used a finger to turn his head towards her, Perren jolting at the contact surprising him forcing his silvery eyes open. “I know this may be inappropriate for you but we humans can share our emotions, I’m not offended. But I’ll understand if you don’t want to dance anymore, it means so much to me that you did dance with me at all though, more than you know.”

A silence between them passed, Perren’s eyes swirling with unspoken emotion and Zephyra smiling reassuringly trying to convey that everything was alright. Finally after what felt like an eternity Perren stepped closer to Zephyra and hesitantly lowered his head to rest his forehead against hers with Zephyra stretching up to meet him. The pair stood there like that for a little while as the next song faded out.

“Zephyra?”

“Hmm?”

“I would like to buy you a meal sometime soon. If you wish to accept.”

“I’m free tomorrow.”

Hi Azora!! I'm doing alright, how about you?? 💙

I'm sorry, but now I'm officially in love with Perren and Zephyra! They're so cute together, and Vorant was such a good wingman for helping Perren flirt! 😭💝 Thank you so much for sending me this, my friend!!

#deepspacedukat asks #anon asks #azorastarr

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dream-meister-translations · 2 years

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WONDER TEA PARTY - PART 1

━

ROUGE : I'm already stressed out!!!! SHAYMIE : Sooo stressed. Hehehe~♪♪ ROUGE : Oh? Shaymie, you know how I feel? It's just too much pressure, I had to drink. EMMA : But Rouge, you usually drink even without any problems? ROUGE : True, but this situation makes me wanna drink even more. Oh, blue~ Blue deeper than the sea~ FELD : Hey, you guys have been really loud for the last few minutes! You've almost downed that whole bottle!

MEL : No amount of whining is going to solve the problem, right? You guys really are useless.

OSCAR : Rouge, you're a grown man, if you want to get drunk that's fine. Just remember to have respect for the food in front of you. VOLKS : Hmm, indeed. It would be a shame to consume such fine food and drink out of mere desperation. They should be cherished. ROUGE : Thank you so much for the delicious food and drinks. See, I respect it very much. I'm sure both of you are a little nervous inside as well?

VOLKS : I wouldn't say that I am nervous, however, it is true that this request is quite challenging. FELD : Oscar…It's been a long time since I've seen you this angry. Just why are we all having a party right now? And why do we all look so upset? The reason for all of this lies in a request I received from a certain royal family to "produce a perfect tea party."

ROUGE : Even though it's supposed to be a tea party, I want it to be relaxed and not too formal. You should be able to lay back and enjoy your time.

ROUGE : Shaymie, let's go with a fun, easy going, up-tempo song. OSCAR : How about a fun and carefree atmosphere with free choice of confectionery? VOLKS : Then the dress code should be fun and loose opposed to the traditional rigid formal attire. ROUGE : We've made a lot of proposals, but they were all rejected! My recommendation of an "all-you-can-drink party" also got rejected, didn't it? EMMA : I think it was fair to reject that one...

EMMA : Your Majesty's opinion is certainly not in line with your concept of "carefree fun." FELD : Are you fucking kidding me!? ROUGE : Of course~ I knew when I heard this job would involve the royal family I'd hate it. VOLKS : The client this time is an excellent politician. But maybe because of that rigidity, he dislikes things that are laid back and fun. It seems some people can't break out of their shells easily. But, I'd like to help him try. OSCAR : Hmm…If this keeps up the tea party attendees will be forced to eat a full course of "nothing."

FELD : Then why not refuse? It's not too late. OSCAR : As much as I'd like to, there is more merit in accepting the offer. We are dealing with a country that produces fine food. Rare food at that. He is prepared to offer some as a reward for this request. It's an investment for the future of the gastronomy guild, so to speak. VOLKS : As a dream weaver, I intend to complete this request as well. His majesty is a good person, if we can break him out of his shell, he will be an even more dignified king. MEL : So you're going to polish him up because he's not good enough? You're still a real sucker, aren't you, Volks? SHAYMIE : And why is Rouge here?

ROUGE : I'm a good poet, and I'm also the kind of poet who always takes on the hardest jobs一 EMMA : They are finally threatening to kick Rouge out of the Moon Wanderers. He has to do this to stay in the guild. I'm his chaperone. SHAYMIE : Aaah! I drew that in my picture diary~! Let's see… Rouge spent a lot of money. Rouge said, "I spent a lot of money." Gran said, "I'm so mad at you!", Rouge replied, "That's why I'm going to work hard even if I hate my job."

FELD : I'm beyond angry, I'm disgusted. MEL : Are you ashamed to be alive~? ROUGE : Don't say something so hurtful in such a silly pose! It's breaking my heart!

I take a sip of my cocktail and watch as Rouge is goaded by the black fairies. EMMA : (Of course, we should take the client's wishes into consideration. Hmm…I'm really not sure what to do.) With every suggestion the royal family rejected, I was beginning to lose hope...

ROUGE : Emma, are you okay? You look a little tired. EMMA : I'm fine! I'm just getting a little impatient… VOLKS : You're doing the best you can, Emma. OSCAR : It's not over yet. You should eat up and get your strength back. EMMA : Thank you very much…

While complaining about how much we hate work, we all enjoyed a drink together. EMMA : (…..Huh……?) A sudden drowsiness hits me, and my vision blurs. EMMA : (….I can't…open….my eyes….) ?? : Wake up, Emma! EMMA : ………..?

ROUGE : Oh, thank goodness! You had me worried sick! SHAYMIE : Emma, are you okay~? EMMA : (I was just having a drink with the guys at Edouard's Castle, I think…So, how did we end up here?) ROUGE : Where the heck are we? I suddenly felt sleepy and when I woke, it was daybreak. SHAYMIE : Hahaha~ Where are we? I don't remember how I got here! EMMA : Rouge…Shaymie…

I'm trying to figure this whole thing out, but I can't help but notice... EMMA : Um…What the heck are those ears!? ROUGE : Hahaha, these? I dunno I just woke up and they were on my head. They're like Rabbit ears or something. SHAYMIE : Jump! Jump! Jump!

EMMA : Shaymie, I don't think this is the time…Why do you both have bunny ears? ROUGE : You have rabbit ears on your head, too. EMMA : Wait, what!? They're really on my head!? FELD : Where the hell am I!? Why am I dressed like this!? EMMA : Feld!? You look so flashy! FELD : It's not my intention! ?? : Hmm….

I heard the sound of a cloak fluttering and when I turned to look, there was Oscar. Clad in an immaculate outfit that would make anyone want to prostrate themselves. OSCAR : What is going on here? ROUGE : Wow, cool! EMMA : So cool! MEL : Hey, what's going on? Why am I suddenly dressed like this? VOLKS : What an interesting outfit, Mel. ROUGE : Wow, yours is nice too Volks! I dig the stylish hat~! EMMA : Yes, it's lovely!

SHAYMIE : Emma is copying Rouge~♪♪ VOLKS : You look lovely too, Emma.

EMMA : Oh, thank you…? MEL : No, seriously, what is going on!? Were we all kidnapped at the same time!? ROUGE & EMMA : Kidnapped!? ROUGE : What are we gonna do, Emma? The Moon Wanderers don't have the money to pay a ransom! EMMA : Calm down, Rouge! We aren't sure we've been kidnapped yet. VOLKS : Right. Let's first get an accurate picture of what is going on. Oscar, do you recognize these woods? OSCAR : I don't know…I know we are nowhere near the castle of Edouard.

?? : Hey…. MEL : Who's there? EMMA : (I think I just heard a voice…Was that coming from my feet?) I glanced down and saw all kinds of brightly colored flowers blooming underfoot. SHAYMIE : Did that flower just speak? FELD : Flowers don't talk. FLOWER 1 : Welcome, welcome! If you want to know anything, I'll tell you everything! If you don't want to know anything, I'll still tell you everything! ROUGE & FELD & MEL : It talked!? FLOWER 2 : Everything is weird here! FLOWER 3 : It's Wondermare!

#Otome #Yumekuro #Yumekuro Translations #YMKR translations #YMKR #Dream Meister Translations #Otome Translations #Dream Meister And The Recollected Black Fairy #Dream Meister And The Recollected Black Fairy translations #tea1

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ky-rar · 4 years

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Khezal art compilation + new sketch I’m working on Because I started playing some swtor again this weekend and I missed my handsome edgelord

You can tell which ones are old drawings because he didn’t have the prosthetic yet. Not by the quality though.

#also that picture of him in formal attire and the one working out still get notes occasionally #I wonder why #art.rar #oc khezal #swtor oc #sith warrior #oc #swtor #zabrak

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scaryspears · 2 years

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Fem Young Severus Snape - Let's discuss

So I'm working on a story on archive of our own where Severus Snape leaves Hogwarts, but it's a fem Snape and it's tagged as Snape/Sirius and James, which I'm still unsure about. I love stories where characters realise their self worth and the toxic people behind and having character growth. Fanfiction or not those stories are the best.

But I'm mostly wondering what people think young female Severus Snape would look and be like, ignoring my fanfic counterpart that I already wrote up. I will be switching between him and her for addressing canon and fanmade Snape.

Now before any Snape supporters or bashers get onto me, I'll just quickly reveal that I haven't read the books and have only watched at least 4 films, but did some research in my mid teens in curiosity. I've always been interested in the characters, their dynamics, and what if scenarios, but never the magic.

There's a lot of fanart where she's given the same hair style as her male counterpart, and honestly I believe her hair would be much longer. Long to the point where it's unusual and makes her look unhinged. Long to the point where it's too easy for someone to pull it. Most of the time using it to cover her face, unsuccessfully hiding herself from the marauders. I can imagine her eyes and face glaring creepily at anyone who disturbs her, with her nose sticking out through it. She would have a really ghostly appearance, and if you count the mudblood incident you would sense the distress, anger and sadness waving off of her. I'm also thinking of this fanart made by @iscawen.

For an obsessive personality I would take inspiration from Palm Siberia. Palm starts off as creepy but goes off to become someone we sympathise with. Not saying that you have to sympathise with Snape, but I think he's someone to pity at a logical standpoint. I'm also speaking as someone who could relate to certain parts of his character.

Her obsession with Lily has more to do with being her first and only true friend. I think Snape wants love, but that love needs to come in different forms other than romance. With the whole unpleasant parents thing, and people staying many feet away from her due to her unruly appearance, it's safe to say that Snape latches onto Lily for a reason. She wants to be appreciated, cared for, recognised for something good rather than the bad omen that the people she's stuck with think she is. And she doesn't want to be punished for being a bad omen. I guess the same could be said for canon young Snape.

I don't ship them together, and I cringe whenever I come across a fanfic that does. Not only is it fun to hate Lily, but the whole marrying your former friend's childhood bully even though he's changed is super suspicious.

With the leaving Hogwarts thing Snape would have to realise that Lily isn't the angel that her mind made her out to be, but I don't know if that's while she's at Hogwarts or after she leaves.

By this time Snape gets a makeover, none of that altering physical features stuff. Just giving her healthier hair and skin, I don't think she needs make up but I think something Goth related would suit her. The story is set in the 70s so it was more of a decade filled with punk fashion (not everywhere of course) which would suit Sirius. (Another note that isn't relevant, when the fandom gives Snape makeover stories they always change his nose to be smaller, you'll be some hating ass people). I bet Snape had a thing for formal attire so I think she'd wear something similar to Wednesday Addams. I can definitely picture her with a black pencil skirt and blouse.

Also the 70s where a different time when it comes to beauty standards compared to the ones of today, I genuinely think a lot of guys would be into her even though a lot of people in the fandom love making Snape out to be some hideous creature. I think she would resemble Shelly Duvall or Angelica Hudson.

Note: @iscawen sorry that I didn't use your permission before putting up the art, if you want I can edit this post and remove the picture. I really love it and wanted to use it as a reference as well as inspiration.

#female severus snape #harry potter #hp fandom #marauders #snape love #snapedom #young snape #snape apologist #Lily Evans Potter bashing #snape content #snape community #hp snape leaves au

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weepingvoidpenguin · 3 years

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One of Your Favorites

Jealous Bucky x Reader

Summary: You have an objective. Get Rumlow to confess. Simple enough, right? No. Aside from his usual condescending attitude towards you, Bucky has made it extremely apparent that he doesn’t think you’re capable of - well, anything, but especially not handling Rumlow. And yet, he is the biggest challenge of this entire ordeal.

Warning: T R I G G E R WARNING!! ATTEMPTED SA, DRUGS, language, light smut. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT READ IF SA WILL TRIGGER YOU.

Word Count: 8.3k

“We have good intel stating he’s working as a double agent for HYDRA. Selling information, exploiting tactics, even going so far as to tell them where we’ll be and when.” Natasha scanned the room, making sure she had everyone’s attention during the briefing.

You slouched back in your swivel chair and twisted to-and-fro slightly with your hands gripping the arm rests on either side. It took all of your willpower to act engrossed in her words. And you meant every single drop. You’d been paying attention, sure, but the only issue was the dominating presence two seats to your right and directly in your line of sight to Natasha. You rolled your chair to the left to clear the path for the third time, only for him to block your way without missing a beat. The growl that left your mouth was nearly involuntary. Nearly.

How long would this man act like a child? Despite his graceful and seemingly unsuspecting movements, you were fully aware his placement was intentional. This was not the first, nor did you doubt that it would be the last, time that Bucky acted impudently toward you. Frankly, you’d grown bored of his behavior. It was the same thing everyday. He would act a nuisance during the briefings, speak over you whenever he had the chance, steal the limelight from you and invalidate any concerns or thoughts you shared. The whole charade grew tiring and he had been dancing on thin ice for months now.

You averted your gaze from burning holes through the freshly washed, brown locks and switched your attention back up to the redhead. Thankfully, too, because you managed to catch the end of her sentence just as she locked eyes with you.

“And that’s why Y/N is going to be the one to extract the information from him,” she finished.

You blinked, “Wait, what?”

Bucky straightened his posture and threw a quick glance your way, “Yeah, what? She’s got no heat, couldn’t toast marshmallows if we gave her all day. She shouldn’t lead this, she wouldn’t know how,”

“Well, tonight might be a good time to start learning, then,” Steve chimed in, throwing a wink your way. You smiled and appreciated his aid, not because you needed it but because at this point, you were seething and if you opened your mouth to defend yourself this meeting would go south, quickly. Luckily, Steve always believed you were capable of a great deal of things and knew you strove for more experience so any opportunity to lead or expand was one he thought you should take.

“Besides,” Tony spoke up, twirling a platinum pen between his fingers from across the table, “our little double-agent has always had the hots for Y/N so unless you’re gonna be the one to bat your eyelashes at him and get him alone in a room, Mr. Barnes, we have to use his own flaws against him.” He turned to face you and held up a hand, “Not to say that liking you is a flaw, you’re great Hot-Stuff but exploiting him is our best option indefinitely,”

“Do I have to seduce him?” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and raising a brow towards Nat, trying your damned hardest to avoid the unmistakable glare the brown-haired super soldier was sending your way.

“The only thing you have to do is extract any information on him that you can. Get him a little drunk, catch him in a slip-up or two, take note of any inconsistent stories and be on your merry way,” she reassured, “How you manage to do that is up to you,”

“Ooh, extortion,” Clint chirped up from the far back corner, his hands rubbing together maliciously around an arrow he pulled from his sheathe, something you noticed he did a lot when he was uninterested; be it a person, mission, or conversation.

“No. Not extortion,” Steve shut it down and you chuckled at how Clint’s countenance fell into one of disappointment.

“Not yet anyway,” Natasha mumbled and you sighed as she walked around the room and handed each of you a folder with your individual objectives inside.

“But he’s such a pervert,” you grumbled.

“All the easier,”

The rest of the day was drudged with Nat while she taught the pertinence of body language (both yours and theirs), verbal ruses, and overall ensnarement. You bat your eyelashes until you were certain you would catch enough wind to fly away, smirked enough that your cheeks began to ache and raised your eyebrows ‘til you felt the impending wrinkles on your forehead. By the end of the drill you weren’t sure you were even going to make it to the company party from the migraine creeping its way on.

“How’s the bait coming along?” His voice alone caused you to roll your eyes but you paid no mind while you rubbed at your temples and stood up alongside Natasha.

“She’s not gonna be able to lie to me any time soon but she can flirt her way to whatever she wants,”

“Benefits of targeting a narcissistic misogynist, they don’t think anyone can fool them.” Tony belted as he sauntered into the room with strawberries, offering them out to you while he munched on one.

“She’ll still mess it up,” Bucky countered, “Make someone else do it,”

You plucked the fruit off Tony’s tray and examined it, trying to figure out whether you were going to consume it or use it as a weapon.

“I really appreciate your words of encouragement, James. Unfortunately, they’re not wanted, nor are they needed.” You bit into the fruit and glided towards the door, looking over your shoulder at the super soldier, “So unless you actually have something to contribute, I suggest you stay the hell out of my way while I get the job done,”

Nat walked out behind you and handed you a tiny, skin-colored device meant to conceal itself and you placed it in your ear.

“The conversation is gonna be recorded so we can catch any inconsistencies. We’ll all be able to hear what you’re saying so tread on delicate waters but don’t be afraid to shake mountains if you have to,”

You nodded and opened your door for her to enter your room knowing she’d want to help you get ready for the event. Natasha, shocking as it turns out, enjoys company while preparing for events. She would much prefer to be surrounded by people than be alone. You never had gall to ask her why that is. Or maybe you respected her too much to ask.

An hour had passed, maybe two, but you enjoyed the silence between you both. There was no need to fill the empty quiet when it was so comfortable and welcoming. You two spoke without words at times and that was probably your favorite personal skill. Eventually, there came a knock on your door and you opened to find Wanda with her flat iron and make-up bag in tow. It’d long since been decided that your room was the gathering center.

Wanda helped you finish touching up your outfit and you waited on your bed while they finished getting ready. Nat occasionally quizzed you on certain situations and how you should act depending on the tones and moods of the conversation. You tried to explain that you didn’t have difficulty reading a room but Nat tested you all the same.

“And if he puts his hand on your thigh?” She called out from your bathroom.

“Then he loses it,” you practically sang in response.

You were met with a flying hairbrush and laughed at the onslaught.

“You’re not the only one with that mentality,” Wanda called out as well, her iron glossing over thin strands of hair.

“Nat knows I can handle myself.” You sat up on the bed and went over to your closet to collect your favorite pair of shoes to go along with the formal attire Nat selected for tonight. “What a coincidence that we happen to have a company party the same night we have to extract information,” you hollered over your shoulder, moving aside terribly worn shoes while you scoured for the pair you had in mind.

“This objective has been in the works for weeks now,” Nat released the tendril of hair from around the barrel and pinned it to her head so it could cool.

“Wow, thanks for the heads up, then.” You gripped the desired pair and placed them beside your nightstand for later.

“The plan wasn’t solid until we knew for a fact that Rumlow was coming. It’s a company party so it’s not mandatory but once he heard you were making an appearance, it didn’t take very much persuading,”

You rolled your eyes and plopped back down on your mattress, “He’s so annoying, I doubt I can hold much of a conversation with him,”

“Take a shot or two to ease your nerves, if he sees you drinking it’ll put him at ease too. He’ll be more inclined to drink,” Natasha recommended. “But don’t act too out of character. If you were always curt and short with him and suddenly you start acting over-friendly, he may get suspicious. He’s an idiot but he’s a paranoid one,”

You nodded, taking a mental note to have a half-empty bottle in your grasp when Rumlow arrives. If he thinks you’ve already been drinking, he might also consider catching up.

“Y/N? Not uptight for once?” Wanda sarcastically questioned. “I can’t picture it,”

“Oh, fuck off,” you grumbled and in turn received laughter from the two girls. “Besides, of all of us I’m by far the least uptight. Barnes takes the cake for that one,”

There was a beat of silence that you didn’t register before you were met with a response.

“Ya know, he’s not as bad as you paint him out to be.” Nat unpinned the curl from her head and moved on to the next section, “He’s got some serious loyalty and always willing to volunteer first for everything,”

You lifted your head to stare at her reflection through the mirror, “What are you talking about? He’s annoying and irate and lacks a filter,”

“Mmm, irate isn’t the word I would use,” Wanda countered, looking over to Natasha.

Nat shook her head in response, “I’d lean more towards . . . over-protective,”

“Much better,” Wanda agreed.

You squinted your eyes at their image and felt the corners of your lips turn downwards, “Over-protective? Since when are you two defending Barnes?”

“We’re not defending him, per say.” Wanda glanced over to Nat, “We’re just trying to give you a fresh perspective,”

“You could give me a brand new pair of eyes and I’d still see him the same,” you retorted, now leaning on your elbows due to the strain on your neck.

They ignored the comment, “And he’s only annoying to you,”

“You’re telling me he doesn’t annoy you at all?” You asked, an eyebrow raised.

“More like . . . he doesn’t go out of his way to mess with us.” Nat applied a nude color onto her lips.

“So you agree that he goes out of his way to irritate me,” you stated rather than asked.

“That’s been made very apparent,” Wanda responded. “But you have to wonder why,”

You huffed a little and sprawled back out on the bed just to result in staring at the ceiling above. If you looked hard enough your mind would create pictures from the chaos of the cracks and shapes began to form. Sometimes, when the night lay still and life seemed to dwindle at the edges of your reality, you could swear a familiar face fashioned together and your imagination ran wild with the images you’d see. Some that brought a warmth to your cheeks even now.

You shot up out of bed and shook the memories from your vision. Ugh. He haunts you even when he’s not actively tormenting you. How he’s managed to crawl his way so deeply within your skin you had no idea but you fought for control of your thoughts whenever you caught them slipping into that hellhole.

“Or slipping into euphoria,” Wanda chimed in.

“Wanda!” You scolded, crossing your arms, “Euphoria my ass,”

“Yeah, he thinks so too,” she continued and you chucked the abandoned hairbrush back their way.

“Stay out of my head,” you jokingly sniped at her but was met with a low chuckle.

“I didn’t even have to be in your head to know what you were thinking of,” Nat defended and caught your weapon of choice.

“Are you guys done yet?” You rolled your eyes and stretched yourself out before swiping up the pair of heels you’d chosen and sliding them onto your feet.

“Why? Are you in a hurry to see a certain someone?” Natasha teased and Wanda let out an eruption of laughter.

“All right, I’m done.” You made a beeline for the door and threw it open, “Lock up when you’re finished!” You bellowed over your shoulder and made your way to the top floor of the building where all the parties are typically held.

You didn’t run into anyone on the way up and you used that time to calm yourself, prying inch by inch away from the invasive thoughts that called for you in the darkest hours of the night. But, then again, maybe those tormenting thoughts weren’t that bad? You mean, he certainly IS handsome, very much so actually. And he has the most knee-wobbling smirk you’d ever come to know, not to mention those little tricks he does with his knives always manage to entrance you. God, did he know how to use a knife.

On more than one occasion had you caught yourself staring at how his hands encapsulated the hilt of the blade. How they clenched and relaxed, drawing out some of the more prominent veins on one of the extremities; of course, you were even more so enticed by the hand he hid as well. You’d imagined what it felt like to have such strong hands grip onto your thighs and coax you into spreading them open with just a few teasing touches here and there. You couldn’t fathom the front you’d put up would last very long, he was stellar at pulling reactions from you. He’d see you break under his caresses and he’d degrade you like he always did but this time it’d emit a different response from you, one that made you whimper and shake. At that, he’d probably call you a good girl, he definitely seems the type to switch between degradation and praise, and would press his mouth up just where you wanted it the most. You’d try your hardest to be quiet but damn the way that tongue moved against you and the way he’d pull you harder against his face at each sound of pleasure you let slip past your lips. He’d enjoy it, too. Eyes closed as he devours you, he likes to put on a show for you to watch. Give you a memory that’ll slick your thighs later that night if he hadn’t fucked you into a coma by then. He’d make you watch him and if you dared to close your eyes you’d earn a firm, cold smack on your ass. He knows you like when he uses temperature play. He growls a little too, he can’t help his innate behavior. Then, just as the accumulation is coming to its apex he’d pull away abruptly and kiss you straight on your mouth so you can taste yourself and that’d earn him another whimper which would result in another smack that leads to that cold metal trailing its way to your core and just as he pushes the tip of his finger inside-

You cough and straighten your posture as the elevator door opens. When had you leaned up against the back wall of the elevator? Oh Gods, you could feel the slick at the apex of your thighs and you squeezed them together as inconspicuously as you could in fear that you were producing a . . . scent that would be rather difficult to conceal. But the slick only grew worse when you locked eyes with the person stepping into the elevator.

Fuck.

“That’s what you chose to wear?” He asked, a certain venom in his tone that immediately calmed the ache in your heat.

“And what would you have me wear instead, Barnes?” You quipped back, your body facing forward as he took his place beside you in the cramped space.

There was a beat of silence. Then another. “Not that,” he responded.

“Well I’ll make sure to ask you next time since you have such impeccable taste,” you retorted, your eyes yet to abandon the sight of the closing doors.

You weren’t sure of all the effects of the Super Soldier Serum that had been injected into Bucky and all that it heightened but you prayed to any God that would listen that his hearing wasn’t one of those things. You were too preoccupied with attempting to settle the hot pulse beating between your legs to worry about how loud your discomfort came across.

“What do you look so nervous about?” Bucky’s gruff voice prodded. “You can’t possibly be nervous about the mission considering how big-headed you are,”

You took a deep, long breath and held it to soothe you. Had you not been so previously preoccupied, you’d have given him hell for the insult. “I’m not nervous about that,” you sniped and rested back against the cool wall to satiate your burning skin before lifting your gaze to him only to find him already examining you.

“Of course not, I just said that,” he retorted, bringing a gloved hand to his face to rub along his jaw, “there’s obviously nothing for you to worry about,”

You scoffed, “And why is that, Barnes?” Cue the dramatic crossing of your arms.

“You’re smarter than Rumlow and significantly better trained. Overall, he really doesn’t hold a candle to your ability,” He paused for a second, his whole frame tensing until he remembered to relax, “But that’s not really saying much considering it’s Rumlow,”

You hadn’t noticed you raised your eyebrows until you felt your face fall, “Ah, there he is. You had me worried there for a second, Barnes. Thought you might actually try something new and display common decency for once,”

A corner of his mouth turned up subtly and he shook his head. You trailed your gaze down to his hidden hand and stared long enough to burn a hole through the fabric.

“If something’s bothering you, Dollface, go ahead and speak up,”

You weren’t sure what possessed you to say anything, especially knowing how touchy the subject was for him but the words left your mouth anyway, “I don’t know why you insist on hiding yourself,”

He lurched his head back, your statement seeming to have a physical affect on the man and you mentally slapped yourself for saying anything.

“I’m not hiding myself,”

“But you are,” you interrupted, your thoughts coming out in pools of candor, “you aren’t your hand. You aren’t your past. You are you. Presently. You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore. That’s not even the same hand you had back then. It’s not tainted and neither are you. I say drop the gloves,”

“And why would I care about what you say?” He growled, his eyebrows furrowed together and his neck tight in potential restraint.

The elevator dinged and you looked towards the opening doors, “You don’t have to but they don’t look right with your suit either.” You walked through the exit and sauntered over to the others who had already gotten the party started, leaving Bucky dumb-founded behind you. “I need a shot,”

“Already ready,” Tony quipped up, holding the small glass in the air for everyone to behold before bringing his cheek to yours in mock welcoming, “This’ll up your tolerance for the next hour, try to get all your drinking done within that time-frame,”

You pulled away with a warm smile after faux kissing his cheek, “Finally!” you displayed and threw the liquid back in one swift motion, your face scrunching together against your will.

“Yeah, she’s got a kick to her,” he mumbled and handed you a fruity drink to chase it down with.

You went around and said hi to everyone as you recognized most of those present. You made small chatter with those lesser known and drank the liquid in your hand significantly quicker than you’d like to. You excused yourself after you finished the drink and walked over to the bar, scanning the room as you were handed another glass. No Rumlow in sight.

You headed towards the foosball table and gripped the handles after setting the beverage down on the counter beside you. You flinched as a reflection of light caught your eye and at first you thought your glass was the source. Until your eyes fixated on the reflection’s actual origin. To your far right, and up a few steps you found Bucky conversing with Steve, a dull light emitting from his hand. Not a glove in sight.

“So, where’s your boyfriend?” Sam inquired when he filled the opposing spot.

You rolled your eyes, “Bucky’s not my boyfriend,”

“Bucky?” Sam’s tone chirped up teasingly, a knowing look wearing on his face.

Your grip tightened around the handles and you slowly pulled away to throw the little white ball through the circle, your hands immediately twisting the miniscule players around. Your eyes shot back and forth, your sight never leaving the darting sphere. Sam still managed to win the first point.

“Ha!” He shouted in triumph, bringing his finger up as if to scold you, “Don’t think you got away with that comment either, Y/N,”

“What comment?” you questioned and gulped most of your drink before slamming it back down on the table.

You heard your earpiece come to life with quiet static and you tried to keep your face masked. Rumlow had entered. Not a surprise either, the party was finally starting to pick up now.

Sam threw the ball in and you turned the players meticulously this time, brute strength hadn’t helped you earlier so maybe you should take it slow. Steve made his way over to the table and threw his drink back, the liquid trickling down the side of his face before he wiped it away. Sam won the second point.

“I play winner,” Tony chimed, standing beside Steve.

You made a point to catch up and now you two were tied at three each.

“Best out of five?” You proposed, quirking an eyebrow at Sam.

“If you didn’t want to play anymore you could’ve just said that,” he teased and you smirked at him as Tony made a subtle show of handing you another drink and you finished your second. “Loser takes two shots?”

“Deal.” You nodded, knowing you didn’t have much of a choice as a small crowd began to form around you two. Rumlow amongst them.

Your jaw dropped when Sam shot the ball directly into your goal as soon as he’d let the ball go.

“What the fuck?” You shouted, “No fair! That doesn’t count!”

Thor erupted in laughter to your right and you blinked slowly, staring at the gargantuan man.

“It most certainly does,” Sam shouted back, his grin practically touching his ears.

“Sam, take it easy on her,” Bucky muttered from beside him, quickly averting his gaze from yours and his expression loosened, “The brat hates losing,”

“Brat?” You snarled.

Bucky took a swig of his beer, watching you the entire time and you reeled back the fire beginning to form in your chest just to bring your drink up to your lips and chug the entire thing down. You handed it over to Tony who left to replace it.

“Last point,” Sam stated, “It’s not too late to quit now,”

You shook your head and blinked away the feign distortion you were supposed to have. “Just play the ball,”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he teased and threw the ball in.

You wanted to win. Desperately. But you had a character to play tonight and she was supposed to be drunk. So you hit your hand against the corner of the table just as Sam happened to make the winning point. You grumbled and threw him a glare when Tony broke through the crowd.

“Coming through,” he shouted, handing two small glasses to you while you gripped your knuckles in pain. “Noooo, you’re not getting out of taking these. C’mon, take your punishment,”

“Yes, Daddy,” you grumbled and cringed at your own words when the realization hit you. Whatever. You were supposed to be drunk, anyway.

“Daddy?” Tony quipped and pulled the drinks back towards himself, “Maybe you should be cut off,”

“What?” You argued, leaning slightly on the table with your hand and snatching the drinks from Tony’s hold, effectively spilling some on yourself. “See?” You lifted up the half empty shot glass, “This barely counts as a shot,”

“I’ll get her a new one,” Rumlow offered and disappeared before anyone could argue.

“She really doesn’t need another-” Bucky tried to interject and take the shots from you but you twisted around and chugged down the one full glass.

Water.

You looked up at Tony and his smirk was barely noticeable. But you could tell. Bucky nearly ripped the other drink from you but Tony blocked his path and you exaggerated your next drink as Rumlow broke back into the crowd, shot in tow.

“Here.” Rumlow’s calloused hand held the drink up above you and you stared at him with a questioning look. “Open,” he ordered and the fire burning in your chest fought to destroy everything in its vicinity. You bit your lip in refrain but tossed your head back and opened your mouth.

Static broke over your earpiece. Don’t drink that! Wanda’s voice erupted.

Your eyes widened as the liquid made its way down but you coughed hard to stop whatever you could.

Why? Steve’s voice came through right after.

You choked on the liquid and shut your eyes at the way it burned its way down. You reached your hand out to grab someone’s drink to ease the burning and grasped a tall glass and tossed it back. The burning didn’t ease up and you felt a hand rest on your back.

“Are you okay?” Rumlow’s voice rang out and your skin nearly recoiled from the contact, “How about we get you some water?”

You looked up at him when the burning subsided minimally and nodded your head, letting him lead the way to the bar. He parted the crowd and someone took step right behind you to follow when the presence suddenly died out abruptly. You turned around to check who it had been and found no one.

Why? Steve asked again.

Where’s Wanda? Bruce broke through.

You lifted your head and flitted your gaze around the room until you found the familiar Sokovian on the couch, laying down with her eyes closed. You pulled away from Rumlow but his grip on your hand tightened and his steps grew in haste. You whirled your head to yell at him but the way the room swayed with the movement cause you to shut your mouth in surprise.

Didn’t Tony say you would have a higher tolerance?

“Couch...” you muttered, pointing over your shoulder just in case your target was curious enough to ask but the message was delivered.

Rumlow hoisted you up onto the bar stool and stood on your open side, using his body to keep you from falling over. Or to cage you in.

“I don’t feel good,” You rested an elbow on the countertop and held your head up.

“I can’t imagine you would. You’ve been chugging those drinks like they’re water.” Despite that, Rumlow motioned to the bartender and asked for two more.

You giggled and your head lulled forward with the action. You let Rumlow catch you from tumbling over. Why did your body feel so heavy? Not to mention the way everything around you dazed about. You couldn’t catch a single action, let alone attempt to read Rumlow’s body language. But you did happen to notice the way his eyes searched the room before coming back to you.

“You okay?” You rested your forearm against his chest and pushed slightly to allow yourself a better view of his face.

A small smirk, “Am I okay? What about you?”

You smacked your lips and brought the ice cold glass to your lips. That’s not water. “I’m doing reeaalllyy good,” you drawled.

Rumlow chuckled and pushed you deeper into the chair, “I can tell.” He took a sip, his attention never faltering from your body, “Just be sure to pace yourself from here on out,”

You made a show of cocking your head to the side and letting a smile sprawl onto your face as you studied him.

“What?” he questioned, a curious lift in his brow.

You shook your head gently and kept your gaze on him over the brim of your glass, “You’re just . . . not what I was expecting,”

“And what were you expecting?”

Don’t forget to bat your eyelashes. “Worse,”

“Sorry to disappoint,” he jeered, his attention once again cast throughout the room before centering back on you.

You followed his action but quickly came to the conclusion that moving any pace faster than a sloth was going to make you nauseous and you could barely keep a thought together. Your stomach began to rise in your chest and the fear seized your throat shut. Why couldn’t you hold onto a thought for longer than a second? It was like you were aware of your lack of consciousness but could do nothing about it because any thought or bout of panic phased through just as soon as it arrived.

“What are you so tense for, Rumlow? You know you’re not currently on the clock, right?” You teased, your head leaning on your shoulder as you spoke.

He brought his drink up to his lips and finished it off in three gulps, “I’m not tense. It’s just hard to turn it off sometimes,”

You nodded slowly and pushed your drink towards him, “Relax. You know everyone here,”

He shook his head and placed your drink back in front of you before asking for another beer.

“And two shots!” You shouted to the bartender, throwing two of your fingers high up and instantly regretting how fast you’d done it.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” He asked you, a side smirk beginning to form.

You placed your finger over your lips and hushed, “Shh, I won’t tell if you don’t.” You dragged your lower lip down and his eyes fixated to commit the scene to memory. “Besides, I always feel dumb if I’m the only one drunk,”

He motioned to the rest of the party, “Believe me, Sugar, you’re not the only one enjoying yourself,”

“But are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Enjoying yourself?”

Your skin crawled when he placed his rough hand on your barren thigh, “Absolutely,”

Don’t forget what you’re here for. Don’t let the objective slip. Gods, how the fuck were you supposed to retain anything when you were so sleepy? And why was it so warm?

“Hot,” you mumbled, fishing around in your glass for an ice cube to rub on your face.

“Thank you,”

You threw your head back in laughter and nearly earned yourself an up-close and personal view of the floor had Rumlow not wrapped an arm around your waist and held you steady. Once he was certain you weren’t going to toss yourself onto the ground, he parted your legs and stood between them to keep you rooted to your seat.

All the movement had you spinning and you white-knuckled Rumlow’s cotton shirt to keep yourself grounded to something, anything. Red warning lights were firing up in your chest and you tensed with the way your body buckled to the panic coursing through you. Your heart pounded in your ears and danced across your skin, lighting it on fire and making the room too stuffy to bear. Please, no. Not now. Focus. Snap out of it. Come back, stay back. Your breathing hitched and you looked down at the sensation crawling its way up higher on your thigh. Too hot. Everything was too hot, if you didn’t get out of this now you would never-

“Vision!” You cheered, happy to see your friend.

The presence on your thigh recoiled slightly.

“I’m taking Wanda to her room, seems she’s had a bit too much to drink,” Vision informed and you’d only just then noticed the body in his hold.

“Wanda!” You smiled, admiring her peaceful features as she slept in his arms. You poked at her cheek then jerked your gaze back up to Vision. “What? Wanda doesn’t drink,”

She’s not acting, Sam’s voice erupted in your ear and you flinched at the sound.

Vision’s eyes went from you to Rumlow then back to you slowly, “Y/N . . . are you okay?”

You beamed at him and slowly brought up your thumb. “Good,” you responded.

You followed Vision’s gaze back up to Rumlow and smiled at the agent beside you. You guess he’s kind of cute. In a strange, unsettling way.

“She’s had a lot to drink, so we’re just trying to slow down the pace. Aren’t we, Y/N?” Rumlow looked down at you.

You nodded fervently, “Yup!”

Vision hesitated but knew he didn’t pose much of a threat with Wanda in his arms unconscious, so he quirked a smile and walked towards the hall.

Someone get to Y/N, something’s not right, Vision ordered and you lifted your head up to find him. You could have sworn he just left.

“Here.” Rumlow handed you a glass, “Drink this, it’ll cool you down,”

You stared at the glass in his hold and looked up at him, “You drink it first,” you slurred, holding your finger up at him.

He cocked his head to the side but took a swig of the drink and you watched it go down his throat. You shrugged and grabbed at it.

Do not drink that, Nat ordered from somewhere and you looked around in wonder at who she was yelling to.

Bucky, Sit down! Steve growled.

Like hell, responded a voice you knew all too well.

Your smile grew and you looked through the crowd, “Bucky!” You feverishly called, completely expecting to see him before you. Rumlow’s head lifted instantly, his eyes scouring the area.

“I’ve got this, Pretty Boy,” Tony hastily spoke, “How ya doin’, Hot Stuff?” He interrogated and you reeled at the tone.

“Quite well, thank you,” you responded tenaciously and attempted to take a swig of the drink in your grasp.

Tony’s hand shot out and covered the top, slamming the cup back down on the counter and effectively getting the drink all over your dress.

“What the fuck?” You tried to shout but the words came out heavy and required too much energy to speak.

“You’ve had enough for tonight,”

“It’s just water,” Rumlow defended but Tony paid him no mind.

Your jaw dropped open and you glared at the older man. Who the hell did he think he was? Tony’s stare burned through your skull and despite your irritation, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was so pissed.

“Are you mad at me?” You drawled, lulling your head to the side.

“No,” he responded curtly.

“Am I being too loud or something?” You pushed. You couldn’t imagine you were any louder than any other drunken bastard at this party.

“No,”

Get her out of there or I swear to God I will, his voice hissed into your ear.

Your eyebrows rose slightly in excitement, “Mmm, Bucky,” you smiled and Tony nodded.

“’Mmm, Bucky’ is right. Wanna go see him?” Tony offered, sticking out his hand for you to take.

You fell forward into Rumlow’s chest but shook your head furiously none the less, “For what? So he can tell me I’m horrendous at my-”

Oh shit. Your job. The job.

If only your body didn’t feel so heavy and your mind so light.

You pushed off Rumlow’s chest and glared at Tony, “I can handle myself,” you insisted, a new sort of sober tone making its way through that caused him to do a once-over. “I know what I’m doing,”

“How many drinks have you had?” Tony challenged and you fell silent.

Then you felt a tap, and another and a few more.

“Six,” You said, hoping you’d counted right.

Tony, don’t you even fucking consider it, Bucky threatened.

“You could at least change, recuperate and then come back,” Tony offered and you sighed a breath of relief before nodding.

“Deal,” you agreed, “I’m hot anyway,”

Tony gave you one last glance before turning around and blending into the crowd on the other end of the room.

You looked up to Rumlow who’s gaze was still locked on the sea of people, “Don’t you wish you’d taken that shot now?” you tried to jeer, every last word bringing you deeper and deeper.

“Are they always that intense?” He questioned, not turning his attention to you.

“They can be over-bearing,” you admitted, hand grabbing the water from earlier and pressing it up against your forehead, “They consider me the baby so they’re always criticizing and suffocating until I just wished they’d disappear.” You took a gulp, “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the family and I like that I have a cause but . . . they don’t let me do anything. It’s exhausting,”

You let out a long breath and smeared the condensation from the glass onto your chest. Rumlow studied you then, not just your body but your reaction. He was watching how you dropped your shoulders at the confession and how you faced your back to them to block them out.

You plastered your torso on the countertop and tried to slow your heartrate down. You couldn’t be the only one here unfathomably hot.

“Why is it so fucking hot?” You questioned, fanning yourself weakly.

“There are a lot of people around,” Rumlow offered, “how about we go somewhere else? Tony did say you had to change,”

You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes and meekly groaned in compliance. “Fine,”

You lifted yourself away from the counter and gently placed your feet on the floor. You’d touched the ground faster than anticipated. Had the ground always been so close?

“Don’t worry, I gotcha.” Rumlow threw an arm around your waist and helped you trudge towards the elevator.

Where the hell are you going? Bucky yelled and the sound of shuffling could be heard from his end.

We can’t let you leave with Rumlow, Y/N. We’re not even sure you’re acting anymore, Sam stated.

Rumlow pressed the button when you couldn’t muster the strength to do it yourself. The level that your room was on lit up and the doors began closing. You thought you saw Rumlow wave at someone but the mock smile on his face didn’t make it seem like a warm good-bye.

Your legs had all but given out by the time the elevator reached your shared floor.

“Heavy,” you muttered, letting Rumlow carry your weight fully.

“I know, Sugar. We’re almost there,” he soothed and you conceded to the fatigue wearing you down.

Your head hung low and your arm dangled uselessly at your side. The familiar sound of your door sliding open caught your attention but you did nothing. You couldn’t.

“How . . . know . . . my room?” You questioned, each word causing you to pull from an empty well of energy.

“I’ve been here before.” Rumlow tossed you onto the bed and sprawled you out.

“Oh. Ok.” You tried to turn on to your side but strong hands gripped down onto your ankles.

Rumlow sighed and slipped the heels off your feet, examining the pair like he wanted to wear them. You extended your feet until you felt every muscle in your leg stretch to its capacity and let out a groan of pleasure at the release. Those shoes hurt so bad.

“You seem . . . intelligent, Y/N.” Rumlow dropped your shoes onto the floor and slithered to the side of your bed, standing beside it with his hands tucked into his pockets.

A bead of sweat trickled down your forehead, “Hot . . .” you croaked and he nodded.

“You’re right. It is getting kind of hot.” He brought a hand up to his neck and ripped off the tie hanging around it.

Get the fuck out of my way, a growl erupted in your ear.

We’re going with you, Buck, Steve responded before knocking something over.

“So, what I have a hard time understanding is. . . why you’re here?”

You groaned a weak ‘huh’ but even that didn’t sound right.

“You’re good at what you do, you finish every mission successfully and yet you’re underappreciated.” He took a seat at the foot of your bed and placed one of your legs into his lap, “Why do you allow them to treat you like that? We wouldn’t,”

The shuffling in your earpiece halted.

“We?”

He began to massage your calf and brought your knee up to his lips, peppering light kisses on it. “We could use someone with your skillset, babe. We’d take real good care of you,”

The shuffling started again.

Rumlow had made his way onto your thigh at this point and you let out an involuntary moan when he skimmed over a delicate part on your inner knee.

“Ya like that?” he questioned but didn’t wait for a response. He brought a hand up to his temple and grabbed the earpiece. You figured he just hadn’t taken it out from his earlier shift but when he pulled it apart, you understood why he always kept it on him.

“Flash . . . drive earpiece?” Your weak tone tilted a little. “W-why tell . . .”

“I figured I’d give you the option to leave since you seem so . . . suffocated. If you said yes tonight then I would remind you tomorrow. If you didn’t,” he chuckled, “well, you wouldn’t remember anyway.” His hands trailed to your mid-thigh and you squeaked. “I’m impressed though, I’ve never given anyone else as much as I’ve given you tonight. The drug usually works so quickly on others, but not you. It’s kind of hot, actually,”

Sick fuck, Natasha growled through a ragged breath.

The world around you was slow or maybe it was you that was slow? You couldn’t tell, honestly. But when Rumlow moved as if he could predict your actions before you could make them, you wondered whether you were moving at all.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon,” Rumlow sighed.

You shook your head, or thought you did but despite the way your body was live-wired, it remained still against all desire.

Fight. Move.

You managed to push your legs shut but his hand slithered between and spread them open similar to opening a door, but this required much less force.

“Kill,” You threatened and the sinister smile that crawled its way onto Rumlow’s face was vile enough to sink your heart into your stomach.

“Kill is fucking right.” Someone snarled and your door was ripped from its hinges.

Rumlow’s hand jerked away from your body and Bucky seized his open palm, intertwining their fingers and pushing Rumlow’s so far back that they touched the back of his own hand. The cracks were sickening onto themselves but had you not been so weak you would’ve turned from the sight altogether. You really couldn’t fathom how his fingers were still attached at all.

“Lay another hand on her and you won’t be able to use it again.” Bucky spit.

Despite Rumlow’s pain, the sinister smile remained sprawled on his face, “You should’ve heard the noises she made,”

Bucky’s grip tightened and the bones in his palm broke next, “I did,”

Natasha flew in right behind Barnes but completely dismissed the two and headed straight for you with a needle in hand. Your eyes shifted from the needle to Nat’s face and back again until she stabbed it into your upper arm. Ouch.

“Wha-”

“Shh,” Natasha hastily hushed, “Keep your strength, you should be back to normal soon,”

Steve came behind Nat and scooped you up to lead you out of the havoc going on in the room. Nat turned her focus to Bucky and reached over to grab the earpiece from Rumlow. Who knows if his nose will ever heal back normally. You held one finger in the air as Steve stepped over the splintered door.

“Goddamit, Y/N,” Steve huffed, jogging towards the elevator and pressing the floor that led to the infirmary.

“We won,” you croaked out, a small smile on your face and Steve shook his head.

“I’m never going to hear the end of this,”

Steve looked you up and down for bruises but couldn’t find any and you promised you weren’t lying to him when you told him Rumlow did not get very far in his ‘advances’ at all. You had to swear the mid-thigh was the worst that it came to.

Bruce was the one that took a few blood samples and made sure everything was reversing back to normal. Apparently, as soon as Rumlow took you to the bar Tony handed Banner the shot glass that Rumlow gave you and Banner ran analysis on it. The cure was pretty easy to find.

After being given strict orders to lie down for the next hour or so, it had been decided that Rumlow was to be turned in considering all the evidence required to make the arrest was in the flashdrive and everyone was to gather together for a ‘family night’. Whatever the hell that meant.

You were in the middle of debating which movie to pick with Steve when the infirmary doors flew open.

“Where is she?” Bucky nearly shouted upon seeing Bruce.

“That’s my cue.” Steve stood up just as Bucky rounded the corner, “If you need anything me and Banner will be right over there,”

You smiled and thanked him then turned your attention to the super-soldier who just arrived at the foot of your bed.

He didn’t say anything for a while, just looked at you. No, not really. Not at you but through you. A few painstakingly slow seconds went by that way.

“You owe me a new door,” you joked, a half-smile on your face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, finally registering your presence.

You nodded slowly, “I am,”

Then a few more seconds.

Bucky turned his gaze down to his hands, both of them barren and on display for the world to see, before shifting his weight between either foot, “Did he- did he touch you?”

“Not really. Just really liked my legs for some reason,” your attempt at another quip didn’t reach Bucky. He stared back up at you waiting for an answer, an honest one. You sighed, “The damage is more mental,” you admitted, now you were the one not able to look up, “I didn’t like being in this altered state of mind. It’s invasive and . . . scary. He could’ve done things, much worse things but it never got that far or that bad. It was more realizing that I wasn’t completely conscious or present and having that state of mind be taken advantage of, that mostly frightened me. Ya know?”

“More than anyone,” he answered immediately.

You looked back up towards him, finally making eye contact, “But I’m fine now, really. Just a little spooked. Steve wants to do a movie night tonight and I would actually prefer that over being alone.” Your eyes fixated on the way his hands clenched and unclenched on the bar by your feet, “If I’m alone then I’ll get stuck in my head about it. Besides, I consider this a hard victory with a few bumps in the road,”

He chuckled, lulling his head a bit, “You’re too stubborn for your own good,”

You shrugged, “Maybe. How’s Rumlow?”

Bucky hissed and moved over to the side of the bed where he took a seat, “He’s unconscious. And has a hand that he’ll never be able to use again. But other than that, he’s fine,”

You chuckled and Bucky watched how the laugh met your eyes. He liked that look on you. It was one of his favorites.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You questioned once it fell silent between you two again.

“You called me Bucky earlier,” he remembered.

You scoffed, “I call you Bucky all the time,”

“Not to my face,”

“Not to your face,” you agreed, a teasing smile dancing on your lips and Bucky had one that mirrored yours.

“It was nice. Hearing it, I mean,” he admitted and a wave of warmth made its way to your face.

“I see your hands are exposed,”

He looked down as though he weren’t aware that he’d taken off his own gloves, “These bad boys? A friend of mine reminded me that I’m not my past. I’m my present. Why hide my growth?”

You twiddled your thumbs together, “She sounds smart,”

Now he scoffed, “Oh, it wasn’t a girl, it was some old buddy of mine.” He quirked up a brow, “Unless the person being a girl would make you jealous because in that case it was most definitely a girl,”

You fought against the natural tug at the corners of your mouth, “Is she at least pretty?”

“Stunning,”

“Smart?”

“Genius,”

“Good at her job?”

“Amongst the best,”

“Then consider me jealous, Barnes,”

Bucky chuckled and you watched how the laugh met his eyes. You liked that look on him. It was one of your favorites.

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 4 years

Text

Brilliant Plan [Anthony Bridgerton x Reader]

Title: Brilliant plan Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Female!Reader Word count: 3.3k Published: 10 February, 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: My first ever Bridgerton fic, please don’t be too hard on me :) Summary: Even as a new debutante you have your eyes on the eldest Bridgerton, Anthony and it seems he is just as interested in you. That is until he halts your relationship in the courting period, leaving you confused.

Bridgerton Masterlist | Masterlists

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You stood in front of the enormous, wooden doors leading you to the unknown. As one of the new debutantes of the season, you felt slightly pressured and nervous. It’s been an endless waiting game, or so it felt like one, but now that you stood in front of the entrance of your future, every little problem you ever had felt mediocre.

Taking a couple of deep breaths seemed to calm your nerves, but as soon as your mother placed her hand on your shoulder, all your worries came back at once. The event has been one that you have been waiting for eagerly, you were happy to be a part of such an elite society, but no one prepared you for the mental battle you were going to be having deep inside you.

“Shall we wait and take a seat, dear?” your mother interrupted your chaotic thoughts, gesturing towards a golden bench outside of the ballroom. A voice within you screamed for those additional seconds away from your grand entrance, but instead you shook your head.

“No, mama, let’s head inside,” a small, phoney smile spread across your face. Your mother nodded in agreement and gently nudged your back as if wanting to help you to take the first step.

As the gigantic doors opened, your gaze fell on the sea of people dancing in the middle of the room, each wearing their finest attires of the most expensive materials with the shiniest jewelleries. You felt slightly out of place even though you were just as stunning as anyone in the room.

First step, second step, it took a couple of them to finally make yourself present and when you finally felt more comfortable walking into the room, you felt as if hundreds of eyes watched every step of yours, making you feel self-conscious once again. It was scary to feel all those eager eyes on you, but after an inner monologue, you finally lifted your head high, straightened your back and forced a small smile across your face.

As you looked around you recognised quite a few people, for instance the Bridgerton sisters, Daphne and Eloise who were although younger than you, had found a dear friend in you, someone they could turn to if needed. Gazing around the room you found the Featherington sisters who you only knew through the annual dinners your family organised.

You were older than the usual debutantes as your mother wanted you to be highly educated before marrying you off. Although you couldn’t wait to be a part of these high society gatherings, you understood that your mother didn’t want you to marry just anyone.

Finally, the curious gazes felt less intimidating and as Daphne walked up to you, you greeted each other with a smile. “I thought you’d never join us,” she joked with you, but you just shook your head with the least lady-like laughter.

“I couldn’t have deprived you from my company. I’m delightful,” you chuckled at your own joke. Your mother placed her hand on your shoulder excusing herself as she headed off to the opposite direction.

“Are you excited?” Daphne asked with an innocent, but enthusiastic smile painted across her face.

“I have been waiting for it for quite a while. Of course, I’m excited,” you replied giggling.

“Shall we find you a husband then?” she chuckled joyfully. You cleared your throat, feeling slightly awkward, but Daphne wasn’t silly nor was she naïve. She immediately understood that her question made you feel slightly uncomfortable. “Do you not want to?”

“Daph, I really wanted to be a part of these gorgeous balls and chatting away with people throughout the evening, however I can’t picture myself getting married just yet,” you offered her a pleading look, hoping she would understand you.

Of course, it was a dream of yours to finally start attending these balls, but there was a reason or two for your hesitancy. You didn’t feel ready to marry anyone, especially not if you didn’t love your significant other, on the other hand, you already had your eyes on someone. Someone who was closer to Daphne than she could ever imagine.

“Sister, I have been looking for you,” his voice made you shiver, tiny goosebumps revealing themselves on the surface of your skin. His slightly messy brown hair and curious brown eyes wandered up and down on you, studying every inch of your body shamelessly as he joined beside Daphne, making you feel flustered under his intense gaze. “I don’t think we have met before,” he spoke to you finally, for the first time ever, reaching for your hand to leave a soft kiss on your silky gloves as you formally introduce yourself. “What a beautiful name,” he smiled confidently, a trait that seemed to radiate through his whole presence, almost knocking you over.

“Interestingly we have met before,” you added, trying to avert the subject, before you felt overwhelmed by a simple compliment to your name, which your parents decided on and basically had nothing to do with you. “But then you always seem busy when I visit,” the confusion across his face was evident, trying to organise the little pieces of the puzzle he seemed to be missing.

“My apologise, I don’t seem to remember and I’m sure I would have remembered such a pretty sight” he shook his head with a smile that sent your heart into overdrive. His words made you feel 20 pounds lighter, but instead of letting the compliment get to you, offering him a small smile, you continued the conversation confidently.

“Don’t you worry about it.I usually only catch a glimpse of you as I pass through the hall,” you lied. In reality you caught yourself not once staring at the man as he worked in his office and your steps halted just in the right spot to take a moment to admire his handsome features.

“I’m certainly glad to have officially met you,” he replied with a proud smirk across his face, leaving you gazing at him for a moment longer than it was deemed appropriate. The moment was quickly interrupted by Daphne who seemed to feel slightly out of place, but before she could have said anything, Benedict joined your circle, quickly dragging Anthony away who endlessly apologised, before following his brother.

“Hmm,” you heard Daphne, slightly lost in her thoughts. “And so, she said no to marriage,” she stated with a wicked smile.

“Whatever do you mean?” you asked furrowing in confusion.

“I might be younger, but I’m not an idiot. I saw the way you looked at my dear brother,” she watched you eagerly with a sceptical gaze.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” you replied casually, trying to disguise your embarrassment, which only confirmed Daphne’s suspicion.

“If that makes you feel better, I would gladly be your sister-in-law,” she chuckled loudly at the astonished expression on your face.

“Daphne!” you tried to scold her, but deep down you were imagining a future with the eldest Bridgerton, shamelessly planning each and every single detail of your shared life.

Throughout the evening you have caught Anthony’s eyes on you not once, shamelessly watching you as you danced with the most eligible men of the evening. You wished he was to ask you to dance with him, but he never attempted. He forgot his eyes on you at all times, making you feel as if you were a unique jewellery, one that everyone admired, but when it came to actions, he has taken none.

You walked out to the terrace with a glass of champagne in hand, watching the dark blue, night sky covered in a sea of stars. It was a beautiful evening, although slightly colder than you initially expected. Gently rubbing your skin, you tried to get rid of the small goosebumps that started spreading all over your body. You knew it would have been smarter to go back inside, but it was a slightly suffocating feeling, smiling at everyone, dancing with every other person. Whilst you enjoyed it, it was certainly exhausting.

Feeling two cold hands on each side of your arms, you jumped in the least lady-like manner, before they were replaced by a warm material. “You scared me,” you breathed, holding your hand in front of your chest, before you pulled the two sides of Anthony’s tuxedo coat together, enjoying the warmness engulfing you. “Thank you, you shouldn’t have-,” however before you could have finished your sentence, he interrupted you.

“I still don’t understand how I didn’t see you,” he spoke as he leaned against the terrace fence, gazing up at the sky. The confusion across his face earned a small smile from you as you placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Sometimes you don’t see what’s right in front of you,” you replied as he turned around, watching your hand rest on his shoulder, before you quickly removed it, hoping he didn’t think you meant to be disrespectful. However, the playful grin playing in the corner of his lips reassured you, making you smile just as well.

From that night there wasn’t a day you didn’t meet in his house or he didn’t come over to yours with an excuse, even though he needed none, your mother was delighted to see the Viscount in her house. Although he didn’t make it official that he was courting you, it was a known fact. He had his eyes on you and he made sure everyone knew of his unspoken intentions.

But Anthony was also a man of freedom. He had to take over the Bridgerton household, he had no place to object, but the freedom he practiced in his personal life was a necessity. You thought your relationship was going in the right direction as he courted you and you accepted his advances. However, after months he seemed as if he still had no intention of proposing to you, whilst he still kept other men as far away as he could from you.

You were tired of waiting. You didn’t want to marry just yet, but you have been waiting for his proposal for the longest of time and his indecisive manners made you doubt his intentions. Of course, you voiced your concerns to Daphne, who concocted a brilliant plan to make his brother jealous. Or so you thought it was brilliant.

As the next ball came and you walked inside the room with an innocent smile, dressed as beautifully as never before, many men gazed at your beauty, lips parting in astonishment. Surely, you enjoyed the attention, especially the one whose eyes seemed to burn holes into your body. But you didn’t look at him. You decided that if he couldn’t take your relationship a step further, then you would pay no attention to him.

“Miss, would you like to dance?” you heard from behind you as Benedict appeared in your vision with a mischievous smile. Although you were aware of Daphne’s plan, she was very secretive about the details.

“Daphne, isn’t it?” you asked, chuckling.

“Let’s just say I had no objection as soon as I heard that there was a way to irritate my brother,” he smirked proudly.

“Is this some twisted way to show your love towards your brother?” you asked, giggling as you felt Anthony’s eager eyes on you.

“I just enjoy seeing him sulking,” he shrugged carelessly.

“I take no responsibilities for any consequences,” you pointed your index finger at him with a mocking seriousness.

“Don’t you worry, miss,” he chuckled as he took your hand in his and led you to the dance floor. Eager eyes watched the pair of you, amazed by the bravery Benedict showed, even though everyone was aware of Anthony’s interest in you.

“If eyes could kill, I would drop dead at this moment,” he laughed, taking a peek at his brother as he led you around the circle, the quartet playing a rather slow song.

“I certainly feel daggers piercing through my back,” you snickered at the absurd situation.

“My brother means well, he is just an idiot,” he added.

“I wish I could object. I mean against the idiocy, of course,” you replied casually earning a heartfelt laughter from Benedict.

“Surely, he will open his eyes now,” he tried to reassure you which earned a sceptical look from you.

“I thought we had just established that he was an idiot,” you raised a questioning brow.

“I certainly think they are mutually inclusive,” he scoffed, earning an eye roll from you.

As the song stopped, Anthony walked up to you with a stern look and serious expression painted across his face, holding his hand out to you. You raised a questioning brow, before you placed your hand in his, letting him take you into the sea of people.

“What was that all about?” he asked as he pulled your body flash against him, his chest pressing against yours. Your breath hitched at the sudden closeness, his proximity clouding your mind. You could feel your body move to the rhythm of the music, but it didn’t register in your head.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you breathed, completely engulfed in his scent.

“Why were you dancing with my brother?” he asked in a stern voice, pulling you out of the mist covering your mind. You certainly didn’t like his tone, nor did you like the way he looked at you.

“Why wouldn’t I? You never ask me to dance with you nor am I engaged to you. I can dance whomever I would like to,” you replied with a straight face, hiding all your emotions.

“You know how important you are to me. Don’t play such games with my brother,” he hissed in frustration.

“Would you like me to play it with someone else?” you asked, feeling as if you were playing with fire, waiting for the moment he’d had enough.

“You very well know that’s not what I meant. You know of my feelings for you,” he groaned in anger, feeling useless, unable to find how to solve this problem.

“Do I? Have you ever expressed them clearly? As far as I know, we are just a man and woman in a close friendship,” you shrugged as the song finished and tried to pull away from him. However, he didn’t let you.

“There is no friendship between women and men,” he replied, clearly dissatisfied with your answer.

“We are acquaintances then,” you scoffed as you removed his hand from your waist and turned around, walking away from him. It felt as if your lungs were about to explode, as if you couldn’t breathe. The fact that he dared to say he had feelings for you when he clearly chose his freedom over you made you feel more upset than you wished to be.

“Where are you going?” you heard his voice as you headed towards the exit, trying to get some air into your lungs. “Where the hell are you going?” he tried again, his tone more frustrated this time.

“None of your business, Bridgerton,” you hissed in anger.

“B-Bridgerton?” he questioned, slightly stuttering, clearly astonished by your choice of name.

“That’s your name,” you replied with a groan as you headed down the stairs, grasping the side of your dress as the chilly weather hit your warm skin unexpectedly.

“Just stop for a second and let’s talk,” he attempted to catch your wrist, but you pulled it away just in time.

“I don’t want to talk to you, Bridgerton. You are the last person I want to see,” you scoffed.

“Surely, that’s not true,” he argued.

“You had months to talk to me, don’t come looking for me now,” you replied, but before you could have comprehended what was happening, Anthony got hold of your wrist and dragged you behind the building, away from the praying eyes, closing your escape route with his palms against the wall on each side of yours.

None of you spoke up, both of you studied one another as if waiting for what the other would say. You had the time to admire his handsome features, his messy hair that resembled more of a bird's nest as the wind blew it in all kinds of directions in his hurried steps.

“Why did you do this?” he asked, his tone finally calm and collected.

“I wanted to see your reaction,” you confessed, not even feeling guilty.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he frowned at your words.

“I thought there was something between you and me. I thought it was more than a friendship. I honestly believed you felt more. But you never attempted to talk about the future, you never wanted to discuss marriage, you never even mentioned wanting a family. I was certain that you would never look at me as a lady. I would always just be a friend,” you scoffed with a small, pained smile in the corner of your lips.

“What are you talking about?” his confusion sat clearly across his face. “I always tell you how madly I miss you when I can’t be around you. I keep saying how I wish to be near you more often. I couldn’t be clearer about my intentions,”

“You see, it’s still not clear to me. What are your intentions exactly?” you asked, cruelly ignoring his previous words.

“Surely, you understand,” he scoffed in disbelief.

“No, I don’t,” you replied, shaking your head.

“I- I just,” the stuttering mess he has become gave you the answer to your questions.

“You see, Bridgerton, you can’t even get yourself to say it,” you heaved a deep sigh and pushed his arm away from the brick wall, heading back towards the entrance. However, before you could have taken another step, he caught your wrist and pulled you back against the wall, his body pressing against you, the cold bricks making you shiver. You could feel his breath on your lips, one of his hands on your waist. You have heard so much about that first kiss and even though you knew it was wrong, that it shouldn’t happen, you waited in utter anticipation.

Anthony tried to control himself, knowing how important you were to him, but the proximity between you clouded his mind as he abruptly closed the gap between you, attaching his lips to yours, hungrily exploring the new territory.

It was wrong, so wrong, but the moment was bittersweet. The kiss was sweet and passionate, one you couldn’t even imagine in your wildest of dreams and you couldn’t even care about the consequences if anyone saw you.

The shock across his face as pulled away from you scared you for a mere second. “I sincerely apologise, I have no idea what came over me,” he tried to take a step back, but you got hold of his arm.

“Why did you kiss me?” you asked, still under the influence of his actions.

“Because I love you. Because I wish to marry you. I want you to be my wife,” he breathed in a sudden confidence. You gently slapped your hands against your lips, his words surprising you, making you feel as if it was a dream.

A small smile spread across your face. “You do?” you asked, uncertainty lacing your voice.

“I would like nothing more,” he rushed to add.

“Is that a proposal?” you asked, chuckling, but what came next was something you didn’t expect.

He dropped down on one knee, pulling a tiny, blue box out of his pocket, opening the lid as he looked up at you, admiring your astonished expression. “Would you do me the honour of marrying me?” he asked, his eyes full of hope.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you shouted excitedly, jumping in his neck, engulfing him in a hug, his broad shoulders barely fitting your embrace.

“Thank you,” he chuckled happily as he placed the ring on your finger, not expecting the quick peck you placed on his lips in the process. He stood up, wrapping his arms around your waist, before he lifted you up from the ground and spun you around with a happy laughter.

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random-imagines-blog · 4 years

Text

Voices {Diana Prince x Fem!Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2343 Summary: Jealousy is hard to tame, even in an Amazonian Princess. Warnings: Smut.

Diana had never been the jealous type. That was until had come along and joined the Justice League, the only other female in this male-dominated group. You weren’t quite as powerful as Diana, but you contributed a lot to the team, and knew how to handle yourself in a fight. Your powers of creating a force field had saved the ass of each one of these lunatics at least once. Even Superman had owed you a debt of gratitude for your powers, all of which you took with a grin. But out of all of them, the one that you seemed to be the closest with was Bruce - and that is where Diana’s jealousy came in.

You, like Bruce, were also from Gotham, so there had been that instant connection there. You would often talk about restaurants, about high school, about people and if there was any overlaps in where you used to hang out. It turns out you used to frequent some of the same places, despite being from totally different backgrounds. You two could often be seen talking and laughing around the coffee machine, or going out to dinner - which made the tabloids go wild. The rest of the league knew that you two were just friends but Diana had always suspected something.

She had originally thought that she would be the one that you would bond with, given that you were a woman. And yes, you two were friendly enough but it wasn’t quite what she had pictured. You would catch eyes in the hallway and nod at one another, and you worked well out in the battlefields of the world. When she saw you with Bruce, your voice would flow through her head like music, while Bruce’s was grating, like nails on a chalkboard. It affected her relationship with Bruce, which had once been friendly but now, being around him just felt like the annoying co-worker.

You and Bruce came into the Batcave from going out to dinner, and you were talking about the couple who had been sitting next to you. “I think it’s romantic,” You were saying about them.

“I think it’s convenient,” Bruce was shrugging off his jacket. “I know a thing or two about gold-diggers, y/n, and that man was one of them.”

“Sometimes, Bruce, I think you see the world in too dark a light,” You said, finally noticing that the others were gathered around, with only Diana and Barry eavesdropping. Cyborg was hooked into a supercomputer, and Clark was in his ordinary Clark attire, looking at his phone. “Oh, was there a meeting?”

“No, I was just bored,” Barry said. There was a flash of yellow, and he was standing right beside you, offering you a bag of chips. “Hungry?”

“Just ate, but thank you. I don’t think I could take another bite,” You protested. Bruce did the same with an elegant gesture of his hand, and you went your separate ways. Bruce went to hang up his jacket while you strode over to see what Clark was doing. Diana was sitting alone at the table now, watching the way that your dress moved about your body. She admired it on you. It was white and gold, and reminded her of home, though this was much more formal than functional. The sleeves draped over your shoulder, exposing the soft flesh of your collar and arms. As you bent over to peek at his phone and see who he was texting, she caught the curve of your breast, and looked away quickly, face glowing red in shame.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to look. But rather, she wanted you to be the one to show her, of your own free will. She wanted you to ask her to unzip the dress and watch as you stepped out of it, completely bare. These thoughts clouded her mind to the point where she didn’t notice that Barry had slipped into the chair beside her and was staring at her, grinning.

“You’re so obviously in love, just go ask her out!” He said, a little loudly. Diana shushed him quickly, and darted her eyes back to see if you had noticed. But you were teasing Clark about his girlfriend, Lois at this point and didn’t seem to have overheard.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Diana said, turning back towards Barry. “Isn’t there some marathon that you should be running?”

“Ouch, you get mean when you’re jealous.”

“I am not jealous,” Diana said, though she knew that it was a lie. Jealousy was a snake that was making it’s way through her nerves, and if she didn’t do something about it soon, she was afraid she was going to burst. The toxicity was unscrewing itself.

She stood up and made her way to the bathrooms. There were two, side by side, neither of them labeled as male or female because it seemed stupid. Just pick a bathroom and use it. She went inside and ran some cold water over her hands and patted at her flawless face. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw the red coming across her cheeks. She saw that glint in her eye that she didn’t like. Though alone, with the only sound being the pipes, she thought she could hear your voice. Laughing. Then Bruce. Probably saying something witty. Oh, I’m Bruce Wayne, I’m rich. I’m Batman.

She splashed herself again, trying to get control over these negative emotions. She dried her face with some paper towel and went to step out, planning on leaving the Bat Cave since she wasn’t needed here, but when she opened the door - you were standing there. You looked startled by the door opening, but your open mouth turned into a frown. “Are you okay?”

You pushed your way into the well lit bathroom with her, and closed the door behind you. Your hand then went to her forehead, reaching up because the Amazonian woman was so tall, and tried to feel for a fever. “Do I look sick to you?” Diana asked, raising an eyebrow, but let you touch her skin, her face. It brought that heat back but it was a different kind.

“Well, your cheeks look a little flushed, and you have been more quiet than usual,” You said, stepping back with a frown. “But you don’t have a fever, so hurray for small miracles.”

“Good,” Diana said with a nod. “But I could have told you that I’m not sick. I don’t get sick.”

“Of course, your immune system is probably as crazy powerful as you are,” You chuckled. “Is there something else wrong then? I mean, you look amazing as usual but there’s something up with you. If you wanted to talk about it, you know I’m here, right?”

You were just so nice, it was hard for Diana to really comprehend it. She only wished that you were this nice to her, and not to everyone else, as cruel as that seemed. In what was at first meant to be a reassuring motion, she put her hands on your arms and rubbed up and down, and then up, past the thin off-the shoulder sleeves, to your shoulders. Once she had started, she found it hard to stop.

“You’re here, and that’s part of the problem,” She admitted. You tilted your head in confusion, exposing more of that beautiful neck that so tempted her. The way that she was looking at you - with eyes ablaze - it was a wonder you weren’t running off. “I have to ask you a question, and it may sound a little strange.”

“Of course, what is it?”

“Do you have feelings of any sort for Bruce?”

“Oh, gross, no,” You said, shaking your head. Her hands were still on your shoulders, keeping you grounded. “He’s like a brother, especially since we grew up in a lot of the same places. Why do you ask?”

“You two seem very close... very close.” Her hands went up your neck, caressing the soft and exposed skin until she reached your jaw. Your breath hitched in your throat, she could feel it. But you didn’t become meek or shy. Instead, you surprised her.

“Hmm... are you jealous, Diana?” You asked. You didn’t attempt to push her off, or get her to move. In fact, the reason why you had been going towards the bathroom in the first place was easily forgotten. Diana was caught of guard by your direct question, and responded to it with a nod rather than verbalizing. A smile went across your lips - closed lipped, tantalizing. “Then my plan has been working.”

You were the one that initiated the first kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck, bringing her in. She was in her full gear in case something had come up, and her metal breastplate rubbed roughly against the soft fabric of your dress. It was a good feeling though. It was a bit cold - and it permeated through the dress until you could feel it on your nipples, making them grow hard. In contrast, Diana was now feeling the soft, the flowing feeling against her elbows as her arms bent when she came closer. Lips smashed against lips, and that jealousy melted away.

You were the first one to pull away, take a step back and looked over that outfit of hers. The infamous Wonder Woman outfit. Turned into cheap costumes the world round. “How do you take that thing off?” You asked. Surprising her again.

“Are you asking me to take it off, or are you curious?” Diana asked, pushing her hair out of the way, behind her neck, so that she could get back at yours with kisses.

“Both,” You said, leaning your head back so that she had more skin to get at. Diana grinned into these kisses, and showed you exactly how the form fitting top came off.

Diana felt very comfortable in her skin, and was fine with showing it off - to you. There were plenty of perverts out there who wanted to see this view, but it was only for you. Her chest was heaving with excitement, the pink that had been on her cheeks blushed her tan body. The skirt had come off as well, it being a one piece, and now she was standing there in only her underwear. For you.

You brought her back in for another kiss, this time with no hard breast plate in the middle. Diana’s hands deftly made their way to the back of your dress, and found the zipper. You moaned in encouragement, and gently - so as not to ruin the dress - she pulled it down until it reached your lower back. You shrugged your way out of it, pulling your arms out of the sleeves and let it fall onto the bathroom floor. At least Alfred kept this place spic and span himself. These floors had only been mopped that very morning.

Diana kept the kisses raining down upon you, your neck, your shoulders, your breasts once they were exposed. It was just the two of you in your underwear now, pressed against one another but it never felt close enough. Lifting you with ease, Diana swept you off of your feet and put you up onto the sink. You leaned back against the mirror, surprised at how quick all of this was going on. Both of you were. But neither of you were putting a stop to it. This was what she had been thinking about doing. Taking you from Bruce’s side and showing you how she really felt. This, this was a dream come true.

She kissed her way up one of your thighs, right along the inner skin, got to your underwear and started to pull it off slowly, leading it with kisses among the other thigh, to the calf, the to your pretty feet, bound in heels. Those, she would leave on. Just like she would her own thigh-high boots. “You’re very beautiful, y/n,” Diana said, getting a real good look at you.

“So are you, Princess,” You said with a smile, watching with eyes full of adoration. She existed for your compliments, and made her way hungrily between your legs. She was soft, just like those plump lips of hers, and she was gentle. She was also quite slow, which made you want her all the more. Her tongue was wet and warm and seemed to know exactly where to go to bring out the little whimpers in you. Your hands went to your own breasts, squeezing them. You pulled at your own nipples, making a display of it as Diana watched. Her dark eyes stayed focus up on you as her mouth worked.

As you began to reach your climax, miscellaneous things in the bathroom started to rumble. The garbage can for one, began to shake. The paper towel roll became entirely undone. The soap started to squirt out on its own. The lights flickered on and off as that force-field of yours affected the electricity around you. When you did finally reach it, your legs tightened around Diana, trapping her there as you thrust your hips up and down against her face, mewling with satisfaction.

The afterglow must have been amazing, for you grew a lot more loose and limber afterwards. Once you let Diana out of your grip, she joined you, hopping up onto the counter and put her arms around you, bringing you in for more kisses. These ones were more so lazy, just little pecks, as you started to recover from that rush of emotions. “What about you?” You asked, looking her over with a grin on her face.

“In time,” Diana smirked. “We have all of that in the world.”

#Diana Prince #Diana Prince x reader #Diana Prince oneshot #Wonder Woman #Wonder Woman oneshot #Wonder Woman x reader #Justice League #Justice League Oneshot #DC #DC oneshot #request #oneshot #x reader #dianap

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spasmsofthought · 4 years

Text

rituals. (zuko x water tribe!reader)

+This turned out to be far longer than I anticipated it to be, but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. I’m sorry if Zuko feels out of character; I tried my best to not make him so. I wrote him in my mind to be older than 16 and with, at least, a year of Fire Lord experience with him. All of the things he says in this fic may not be completely on point, but I hope I made sense of his character in this situation and kept an accurate frame of reference for you to hold onto!

I’ve been thinking: What would it have been like to marry the Fire Lord if you were an outsider, from another nation/element? And where that question led me is what produced this.

I tried my best to have accurate research, but if something’s off or wrong, please kindly let me know! I’m not an expert about the fandom here.

Otherwise, I hope you enjoy this mess of fluffy Fire Lord Zuko and a Water Tribe OC just trying to navigate the way between two different cultures.

Read Part II here!

Like, comment, reblog!

“Thank you.” You smile softly as some Fire Palace officials make their way out of the giant, ornate room. Their faces are more stoic, but there is one older man who gives you a slight quirk of his lips before they are back in a thin line. He’s been the only one who has been semi-kind to you. The rest of them have just been rigid and downright insufferable. It takes a few moments before their footsteps recede and you are surrounded by silence.

It turns out that the Fire Lord asking you to become his wife comes with a lot more than you thought it would.

And of course, you had never been blind to the fact that Zuko is of royal lineage. His family has passed down the title and office of Fire Lord for generations. The people of the Fire Nation have known this family for over a century.

The blood definitely feels thicker than water here, though Zuko’s own familial situation may testify against that.

How naïve of you to think any of this would be simple and easy. Nothing about this past century has been.

You press your head to the solid table beneath you, hand-crafted and polished so that it shines like the stars you remember seeing at night back home. Frustration and stress knit your shoulders together, your arms curling in towards your midsection.

Deep breath in, the voice of your mother reminds you. You can barely remember her face now, lost to time, but her voice still somehow stays clear. You hope it stays that way for a long time. Now let it go, she says, too.

If you close your eyes, you can almost picture your little family’s home. The sea squid hanging out to dry so that it can be prepared for supper and her bed disheveled but lined with furs that keep you both warm at night and during the coldest days. It’s probably empty now, a home to no one.

You exhale, forehead still pressed against the table. You repeat the process a few more times, trying to somehow expel the tightness of your shoulders. The weight stays. Despite whatever you may lose, being with Zuko is the closest to home you will ever feel now.

You get up from your seated position at the table and move to a window, looking down at the picturesque landscape of a quiet pond garden. You lean against a pillar supporting the ceiling and try to absorb yourself in the peaceful scenery. You close your eyes and try to listen to the sound of the soft breeze rustling the leaves of the tree. You just want it all to go away for a second.

“Have they exhausted you yet?” A gravelly voice behind you asks.

You turn to see Zuko standing in the open doorway. He’s dressed in all his formal attire, of course, but he seems to carry his own weight on his shoulders today.

Idiot, you think, of course he looks stressed and weighed down. He’s trying to re-establish peace among four nations after the 100-year war his ancestor started.

“Yeah, sure.” You mumble and smile softly.

The moment doesn’t last long before you turn back to the pond, stomach churning now. The grief and the stress mingle together. You miss home, you miss the weather and wearing your furs. You miss your parents, who have been gone for four years; your father to the war and your mother to sickness. The ache never seems to go away, but it dulls when Zuko is able to be around.

Zuko makes his way to stand beside you, saying nothing as he directs his gaze also to the peaceful pond, undisturbed by people or the noise of the outside world.

Despite what you had been told about the Fire Nation your whole life growing up, and what you’d been told about Zuko during the War, you’d always appreciated when he did this. Despite his title and the lineage he carries, he’s always treated you like an equal. You are no less to him because you are female, and you are no less to him because you come from the Water Tribe.

If it had been a few years ago, you wonder if he would have thought differently. Or perhaps he has always been able to understand honor more than most since he was a child, and that was part of the reason he was the one who was destined to be Fire Lord all along.

You take in the side profile of his face for a moment, trying to gather the strength you’ve always had inside you.

“I don’t want to worry you,” You begin, turning back to the view of the pond.

It’s still and quiet and sounds like a great place to escape to in this present moment.

“I’ll let you know when I can’t handle it,” His sardonic tone answers back.

You know he means it as a joke, but there’s a stark truth to his words. He’s handled much more than a trivial conversation about what may be bothering you.

You take a moment to organize your thoughts so that you don’t come across as an emotional train wreck. Zuko has always seemed to have infinite patience with you while you express your emotions, but emotional intelligence is new to him as well. You don’t want to burden him with trying to figure out your emotions while he’s trying to cope with and understand his own.

“I just... I didn’t know how difficult this would be.”

“What?” He sounds a bit surprised.

“Adopting your culture as my own,” Zuko opens his mouth but you stop him before he can even begin. “From a shallow frame of reference, I had always known your culture and your people would be different than mine. And the time I spent traveling back and forth from the Water Tribe to here when I was only your girlfriend gave me some exposure, but I didn’t know. Not really. Most of your people have been so indoctrinated by nationalistic propaganda that our union wouldn’t have really even been conceivable a few years ago.”

There’s another moment of silence as you take a breath and exhale it. In and out. Zuko doesn’t try to interrupt the moment with platitudes or words of comfort, and that’s another thing you’ve grown to love about him.

He doesn’t say something he doesn’t mean. It’s not in his nature to do so.

In allowing each of you to struggle with the weight of your words and emotions, he honors your emotions without dismissing them. Sometimes, it leaves you speechless because the practice is so ingrained in him, there are times he doesn’t even notice he does it.

“I can adapt. That’s not what I’m worried about. My people are strong because we are so willing to adapt to change, just like the ocean: strong and flexible. I can belong here without losing myself. I just don’t have anything to bring with me. There is no recognition of my culture, and since these meetings have started a few days ago, I get shut down every time I try to bring something into what should be the happiest day of my life.”

You turn to him also and take a step closer. His expression remains neutral and you can tell it’s going to take some time for him to digest all of this. For a moment, you place your hands on his chest, clothed with the finest robes available in the Fire Nation.

“When I said yes to your proposal, to the reality of a life with you, I meant it with all of my heart. I still do. But I have nothing tying me to my homeland or the place of my birth like you do here.”

He looks like he has a thousand things to say, but then the words fade away before they even make it out of his mouth. Zuko’s face turns back towards the outside, looking out at the pond as a soft breeze again disturbs the tree by the water. He always gets this look in his eyes when he’s in deep thought. The dilemma is less with him and his position as Fire Lord and more with how to integrate you in his world without making you “fit in” in ways you were never supposed to.

“If I’ve learned anything over the past few years,” He begins, still standing straight and looking outside. “It’s that nothing in the world is right if there is no balance.”

He reaches inside his formal robe and pulls out a box. Your brows furrow in confusion, because Zuko is not one to give gifts.

“I was going to give this to you later, but it seems like the right time now.” He shrugs and hands you the box while a hand goes to rub his neck.

He always does this when he feels shy or flustered. It’s kind of cute to see the “decisive Fire Lord” act like a teen aged boy. He had rare opportunity to act like one before.

The box is like a square and a silk ribbon is tied around it. Your fingers work at the knot while you raise your eyebrow at him. You place the ribbon on the windowsill once it’s unraveled and gently pull the lid off the box. It may have looked inexpensive, but you never truly knew in the Fire Nation.

The thing inside almost takes your breath away. It’s all blue, every single bit of it.

It’s a betrothal necklace.

You didn’t even know Zuko knew they existed, let alone what it would have meant in your culture if he gave you one. (Granted, he’s already asked you to marry him, but for the moment you dismiss the thought.)

It’s true, most marriages are arranged by parents or parental figures in the Water Tribe. Most people at home are not as lucky as you have been to freely choose a partner, whether inside the Tribe or outside of it. Sometimes it seems a more hollowed out gesture when neither party is truly looking to get married for love. But the ones that do always give the necklace its meaning and purpose.

“I asked Katara for some help,” He began to explain as you stare at the necklace. “I didn’t know what I was doing or where I should go, so she was the one who guided me. She gave me some ideas of what the carving in the stone should represent, but in the end, I came up with the design by myself.”

Zuko rubs the back of his neck again as you glance between him and the necklace.

The choker is dark blue as always, but the color gives you some semblance of peace. Blue isn’t a very prominent color displayed in the Fire Nation. Indeed, the stone fastened to the choker has already been carved into. The design is somehow intricate and simple at the same time. It is intimate without being gaudy or overdone. It is all blue and reflective of the culture you grew up in and the one you still carry with you.

“You carved it yourself?” You whisper, not doubting the answer but still needing to ask it. Zuko just nods and your eyes well up with tears. He doesn’t even know how sacred this necklace is to you in a place where no one else will ever understand its full importance and meaning.

“Will you put it on for me?” You hand the necklace to him as you also discard the box on the windowsill and turn your back to him. You’re thankful your hair is already tied back (still adorned with various blue beads from your background) as you sweep it to the side so Zuko can clasp the necklace around your neck.

The weight of it is unfamiliar but grounding. It anchors you to the truth. It reminds you that no matter what marrying Zuko looks like, you carry your culture with you wherever you go. The way you treat others, hold yourself, and what you, hopefully, pass down to your children is far more important than what traditions you do or don’t adhere to in a ceremony.

“I’ll talk to the officials,” He offers as he clasps the choker together. “You should be able to have all the customs that are important to you when we get married. You have always been my equal, but this time it will be a fact and not just an assumption.”

You touch the stone with your fingers as you turn back to face him. The tears are already sliding down your cheeks, but you also give him a sweet close-lipped smile. He knows but he doesn’t. And that is what makes him so beautiful.

You cup his face between your palms and feel him relax a little. Physical affection had never been a priority in his childhood or adolescence, but you can tell he’s starting to understand why you think it’s important to give and receive it.

“Thank you,” You say, smiling wider.

You close the distance and bring your mouth towards his. The kiss is steady and soft but also full of unrestrained emotion. Zuko gives you a second one before you both pull apart. He just shakes his head.

“I think I’m the one who should be thanking you.” He whispers back as he brings you to his chest.

He is home now, and that is what matters.

#avatar the last airbender #avatar: the last airbender #atla #atla zuko #zuko x oc #zuko x reader #prince zuko #fire nation #water tribe #avatar the last airbender one shot #zuko one shot #zuko imagine #zuko #avatar: tla #fire lord zuko

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jgnico · 3 years

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Okay, I'm going to elaborate on my earlier post and to do so I'm breaking this down into two very important sections:

1. The JJK fandom's feminization and fetishization of Gojo as a character and in his relationships, and

2. The general issues with racism when portraying queer poc characters in relationships that happens in fandom culture.

PS: I'm not touching the topic of why male ships shouldn't be characterized in terms of sex or why saying one character is a bottom vs another is a bad thing. If you want breakdowns about that, I guarantee that there are resources and posts that you can find through google. It's a well-known debate and I'm only here to talk about the issues that come up with Gojo's portrayal in fandom.

Staring off, I'm gonna to remind everyone that Gojo is neither skinny nor pale. He's an Asian man that's not only well into the 6'3 range, but he's also extremely fit. He is not skinny. He is not a twink. He has never been portrayed within the manga as such. In fact, if you want a clear picture of his physique, Gege has given that to us in the most blatant way he ever could.

Gojo's a big dude. He has a broad chest, straight shoulders, and big hands. There is absolutely nothing slim about him.

Even if you wanna go strictly off the anime, he's still larger than pretty much every other character in the show. I think the only character that possibly has him beat size-wise is Todo, but they're still the same height (give or take a cm) with Todo having a more obviously muscular build.

But let's look at some official art for the anime as well.

If seeing him beside Geto and Kuroi doesn't make this obvious, I want you to look at Gojo in comparison to literally everyone else in this picture. (We're not counting Panda, because Panda's literally a bear.)

The only reason that Gojo looks "skinny" is because he dresses in clothes that fit his body type without clinging to him. They sit comfortably on his frame and give off a more lithe impression of his build. (Which I would hope that they do because his shirts cost more than my car and that's how any properly fitted/tailored outfit should look.)

When he's not in uniform or more formal attire, he tends to wear hoodies/jackets over loosely fitted shirts and pants, which gives him the same effect while using a different method.

So he's not a twink. It's just the clothes.

Now, I don't think that I should have to point out why he's not white just because he has blue eyes and pale hair. I don’t care if you can’t picture him as Asian, because that just means that you have your own issues to work through with someone more qualified than me.

He's Japanese, end of discussion.

That being said, the problem that we run into with Gojo despite all of this is that fandom thinks of and portrays in him the same way that they would any white twink character. He's described effeminately when nothing about his personality or physique are "feminine" in nature. A lot of his canon qualities and traits get left out or out-right contradicted (such as describing him as "slim/boyish" or “timid/coy" when he's none of those things) in an effort of making him fit the image that's been assigned to him, regardless of if it's true to canon.

And you see this very clearly when you look at the role he's given in fanfiction vs Geto, who has more obvious Asian features and a darker skin tone.

This is without any additional filters (as in no specific ships, ratings or languages, etc. No filters!) and while, yes, you can make the argument that Geto hasn't really been in the anime yet, it's a trend that continues and is a point I'll touch on later in this post. So bear with me.

Note: I’ll also go out on a limb and say that the majority of the bottom Gojo fics are written from his POV vs the POV of the person that he’s with.

The reason that this is a trend is because Gojo looks like a "white" character. He has a lighter complexion, pale hair and blue eyes, which makes it easier for mostly white, female author's to put themselves in his place when they write him. And this is something that's been an issue in anime fandoms for a long long time. But broadening out into fandom culture as a whole, it's also how we get situations where white ships with white characters gain way more popularity than poc ships with one or more poc characters.

Fanfiction and fandom as a whole is dominated by white female content creators. They make up the majority of authors and artists, and always have. But this issue becomes even worse when you bring in poc characters, because you run into the problem where the character with more ethnic features (darker skin, darker eyes, etc) becomes the "male" stand in of their ships, regardless of personality or body type or age.

The top or bottom role that's assigned to characters often has absolutely nothing to do with those characters themselves. Its a form of self-insertion without being obvious and if you were to ask most writers/artists why they've given the characters the roles they have, they often won't have a solid answer other than a general feeling or their own preferences.

In contrast, a lot of poc content creators will fall to the other end of the spectrum and advocate for poc or more clearly ethnic characters to be portrayed in the same way as their white or white-passing counterparts. But they'll ultimately get shut down by white creators for "fetishizing" minorities. I've seen this happen so many times in the 10+ years that I've been in fandom and I know other poc creators have run into this issue as well, but if you point this trend out to white people in the fandom, they either won't agree with you or they'll be shocked that its a problem because its never occurred to them.

Which leads me to Gojo's ships.

While, I can't speak for Nanago (and won't speak for Gofushi/Goyuu; I'm not touching those ships with a ten foot pole) I'm going to take a wild guess that most explicit fics boil down to Nanami being Gojo's dom and any non-smut fics still mostly keep him in this role in a less obvious way.

So we still run into the self-insert through canon characters issue, but it's probably not because one is more obviously Asian that the other like we see with Satosugu.

I want to reiterate that this is with no additional tags other than the one for their ship. I haven't filtered out anything else.

Even if you take away the "bottom" tags, the majority of their fics place Gojo in that role anyways. Despite Geto having more traditionally "feminine" traits that in a fully white ship would typically lead to most people making him a bottom (such as a more empathetic personality, tendency to crave familial bonds, and a more reserved demeanor on top of being smaller in stature to Gojo) he tends to get slotted in as the top in the relationship, oftentimes at a cost of those very qualities.

Note: Again, with most fics being from Gojo’s POV, just like what I’m guessing we see with Nanago.

I cannot begin to stress how many time I've seen Gojo and Geto described through actions and speech that don't fit their characters at all and while, yes, I completely agree that having certain qualities doesn't mean that you should fit into a certain role when it comes to sex, there is an issue that comes up when the default work around to that is "pick the pale character." Especially when you add in a heap of mischaracterization and physical descriptions that don't fit that character.

I guess to reiterate my original point, stop portraying Gojo as a twink, or worse, a thinly veiled self-insert that came with a backstory.

I genuinely don't care if you prefer him as a top or bottom. Do whatever you want with that because I can't dictate your preferences. I just ask that if you find yourself always putting him in a certain role or enjoy consuming media that does, try to do so in a way that fits him and is faithful to his character.

#this is incredibly messy #but i've ranted about it enough to my friend that I think it was time to make a post #gojo isnt you free space for a self insert #he's a fully realized character #and changing aspects about him to fit the image of him in your head #to make him more palatable is a garbage thing to do #get well soon #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #thoughts

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cycat4077 · 3 years

Text

Proposing Permission

Summary: You and Sonny have been together for a year but your idea of celebrating is slightly different than his. Set during S18 - roughly November 2016. Pairing: Sonny x Reader Warnings: None, except fluff...and maybe suggestive hints here and there ;) Words: 2479 AO3 here

Technically part 13 in the Changes verse, but can act as a stand-alone, too!

“Mom!” you exclaim as soon as you hear her ‘hello?’ on the end of the line. “You'll never guess what just happened! – Wait, how'd you know? – He did? Of course, he did!” you laugh happily, flashing a bright smile up at Sonny who sits beside you on the sofa.

Sonny would give you the abridged version of the events that led up to this moment later, but at the time, things went a little like this:

-x-

“Uh, Carisi? Where are we going? The turn-off for the I-87 South, is that-a-way…” Amanda turns her body towards the traffic junction that passes by. She then whips back around to stare at her partner in the diver’s seat, a disgruntled look on her face.

“I need ta make a detour,” he states, eyes never leaving the highway.

“But we’re on a case!” she protests, growing irritated.

“Yeah, but we did what we came upstate to do. Got some answers, relayed them to Lieu. Technically, we’re off duty right now.” Sonny taps the wheel with his thumbs, trying to avoid his partner's gaze.

But Amanda Rollins is not one to concede so easily. “Tell me where we’re going, Dominick,” she drops her voice to a stern tone, eyes boring into the side of Sonny’s head.

Sonny lets out a nervous breath and says your name. “Remember how her parents live upstate? Well…” he reaches into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, producing a velvet box. Amanda gasps and nabs it from his grasp. She flips the little box open, finding a ring. “I wanna propose,” admits Sonny, “but I wanna ask her folks first.”

Dragging her eyes away from the box, Rollins frowns. “It’s twenty-sixteen, Sonny…you don’t need parental permission anymore.”

“I know, I know,” dismisses Sonny. “But that’s how my pa did it, and, she’s really close with her parents. It seems right to ask ‘em first.”

Amanda smiles in spite of herself. The gesture is very much a ‘Sonny Carisi’ thing to do. So, she cracks a joke instead. “What’re you gonna do? Salute her dad and say: ‘Requesting permission to marry your daughter, sir!’”

“Rawllins,” he groans, trying to act annoyed while keeping his eyes on the road.

“Do what you gotta do, partner,” she winks before turning her attention back to the box. “This ring is gorgeous!”

-x-

The drive was absolutely beautiful. Being October, the further away from concrete Sonny and Amanda drove, the denser the colourful forests became. It was picture perfect and Sonny’s only wish was that you could have been along to see it too.

Pulling up to your childhood home, Sonny leaves Amanda in the passenger’s seat. Afterall, this detour had to be relatively quick to prevent Lieu from breathing down his neck about it.

As Sonny makes his way to the door, his legs are a little wobbly and his pulse is racing. He has met your parents before and they adore him, yet, as he waits for his knock to be answered, his nerves get the better of him. This is a huge step and he hopes that they believe him worthy of it.

Then the door clicks open to reveal your mother. “Sonny!” she exclaims happily, but immediately her face falls. “Is everything okay?” In hindsight, an unannounced, unaccompanied visit does seem a little concerning.

Clueing in, Sonny immediate puts your mother at ease. “Yeah, yeah!” he reassures with a smile. “Work brought me upstate and I, uh, I wanted ta ask y’both somethin’ while I was up here.”

“Of course, of course!” Your mother ushers Sonny into the house before giving him a giant hug. Just as she releases him your father walks into the room, coming over with a large smile and firm handshake.

“Sir,” greets Sonny with a nod.

The three of them then take a seat at the dining room table; your mother unsurprisingly offers Sonny everything in her fridge. Once satisfied that he’s not lying about not being hungry, she continues. “So, son, what’s on your mind?”

The Italian swallows nervously. He looks to his fingers, thrumming them on the table top while his right knee bounces anxiously. Finally, he begins to speak: “Well, as you know, your daughter and I have been together for a while now and, we love each other very much. I love her very much.” A grin begins to break out on your mom’s face, her intuition giving her a good idea of where the conversation is headed. “And I, uh,” continues Sonny, “well, it seemed only right for me ta ask the two of you first. I w-wanna ask her ta marry me.”

Suspicions confirmed, your mother squeals with delight, grabbing onto your father’s arm and giving it a loving squeeze.

“I got a ring already and everything, if ya wanna see it,” Sonny adds quickly as if it will reenforce how committed he is to you. He pulls out the box once more and hands it over to your mom.

“Oh, Sonny,” she sighs looking up to your boyfriend. “She’s going to absolutely love it.”

“So, I, uh, have both your blessings then?” His blue eyes dart nervously back and forth between your parents.

Finally, your dad chimes in. “Of course!” he exclaims happily, his voice choking up ever so slightly. “You’re a good man and I couldn’t imagine my girl with anyone else.”

Sonny’s stomach does a somersault as he is immediately flooded with relief. “Thank ya!” he leaps to his feet. Your parents stand with him, both delivering their future son-in-law a squeezing hug. Parting, Sonny reluctantly explains that he can’t stay and that he must be getting back to the city.

“Alright, hon,” your mother coos. “Let us know what happens. Your secret is safe with us for now, but we’ll be waiting anxiously by the phone for the happy news!”

“Will do,” beams Sonny before he heads back to the squad car. Your parents wave him goodbye until he’s out of sight.

-x-

It’s your anniversary! One complete year of you and Sonny (finally) getting together! But…the universe really didn’t care about that. Nope! Because a faculty meeting was called on the one day where you didn’t have classes to teach. It ran from midday and into the evening and there was no possible way of getting out of it either. You loved your job, you really did, but today was supposed to be for you and Sonny. Nothing fancy, of course, but you had planned a lazy morning, followed up with cooking together and turning it into a romantic evening celebration.

“Uhhggghhh!” you groan, hanging your head and slouching your shoulders.

Sonny places his warm hands on your arms, grinning. “It’s alright, sweetheart.” You can feel those blue eyes shining down on you and, the next thing you know, a finger is gingerly tilting your chin up towards his. “I ain’t mad at all, okay? Shit happens. Jeez, how many times have I hadta cancel a date with you ‘cause I got called in or hadta work late?”

You bunch your mouth at the corner, frustrated. “I know, but it’s our anniversary and I was looking forward to spending all day with you!”

“So was I, but we can still make the most of it.” He kisses you on the nose. “I’ll go ahead ‘n make dinner and then when ya get home we can celebrate.”

“You sure? It was supposed to be a team effort. I can just grab some takeout on the way home –”

“Nonsense,” Sonny grins. “Besides, my cookin’ is way better than any takeout in the city.” His words make you laugh. “There’s that beautiful smile,” he beams, sweeping the hair back from your eyes.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, doll. Now, go on before you’re late ‘n try not ta fall asleep.”

You give Sonny a sweet kiss and make your way to the door. Before exiting, you flash a sultry look over your shoulder at your smiling boyfriend. “I promise I’ll make it up to you later, babe. It’s just a shame you have to wait so long to see what’s underneath this dress.” You slip out the door before you’re able to see the sign of the cross Sonny makes in attempt to absolve himself of his sinful thoughts.

-x-

The journey back home never felt so exhausting. Maybe it was the fact that the meeting seemed to drag on forever, especially when all you could think about was curling up next to Sonny. Your feet ached in your pumps and you cursed your wardrobe choice. Though, you were still new at the college and thus wanted to make a professional impression.

Once you finally reach your floor, a distinct cooking aroma floats down the hallway. Your stomach grumbles, knowing exactly which apartment is the origin and eager to taste what smells so delicious.

Opening your door, you are greeted by your wonderful boyfriend and his smiling eyes. He’s dressed up in a crisp shirt and slacks. “Welcome home, sweetheart and happy anniversary!”

You smile up at him and step into his outstretched arms. His attire seemed a bit formal, but you weren’t complaining. The way button up shirts hugged his arms and torso always made your face flush and heart beat a little faster. Those same arms also fit perfectly around you when he held you close.

As you begin to withdraw from his embrace however, you notice just how much Sonny is perspiring. “Babe, you alright?” Your brow knits with concern. “You’re sweating a bunch…”

Sonny quickly averts his gaze and turns towards the kitchen. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” he gives a dismissive wave. “The oven’s been on all day.”

You know him well enough to tell that something is not quite right and his half-hearted answer gives you reason to follow him and press the issue. But as you round the corner, you’re stopped dead in your tracks by an elaborate display.

Sonny has gone all out. A hearty meal sits steaming on a table set for two, a single rose in a crystal vase resides at the center, and he’s even arranged some of your candles to provide low lighting. The sight of it all leaves you feeling as though your heart will flutter right out of your chest.

"Sonny," you whisper, hand over your heart. "You didn't have to do all this." You then peer up at him with glassy eyes.

"I wanted tonight to be special. Just you ‘n me celebrating a whole magical year of being together.”

Closing the distance, you lean up and place your lips tenderly to his. Sonny bends forward, deepening the kiss. You run a hand tenderly up the front of his shirt feeling the contours of his muscles beneath your fingers. Sonny reaches to cover your hand with his, grasping it carefully and reluctantly pulling it away. Breaking apart, he smiles, "Food's gonna get cold, doll."

The two of you sit down to a quiet, romantic dinner, clinking glasses in a toast to your relationship. But Sonny still has beads of sweat forming along his brow. "Babe, are you sure you're alright?" you point to his forehead. "It's not that hot in here..."

He swallows thickly, looking away. "Yeah...I'm just a little nervous is all." Sonny then focuses on you with big, blue eyes.

Yours narrow in confusion. Nervous? Why would he be nervous? It just us here...

Sonny flashes you shy smile before reaching across the table to take your hand in his. He stares at it in contemplation as he runs his thumb lovingly over your knuckles.

Biting his lip, he shifts those gorgeous eyes back to yours. "We've been through a lot in a year, doll," he begins. "And last summer I never knew how my life would change when you walked through that squad room door. I never knew that I could love someone so completely until I fell in love with you. My whole heart is yours and -"

"Sonny!" you release a sweet laugh. "You don't owe me a speech! I know how much you love me, silly! And I hope you know how much I love you too."

Suddenly, Sonny seems a little terrified. Had he rehearsed this or something?

"Just hear me out, ‘kay?" he implores following a shaky breath.

You smile softly and squeeze his hand signaling for him to continue.

"Believe me, doll, I've never felt more loved by anyone but you. I love waking up with ya in the mornin' and fallin' asleep together at night. My heart skips a beat thinkin' about a future with you. So, I guess that's why I'm sweatin'."

All of a sudden the warmth of Sonny's hand disappears. He shifts to get up from the table, slipping his fingers into his pocket. Then you realize that he's getting down on one knee. Your heart begins to thunder in your chest and a gasp catches in your throat.

Sonny's eyes lock onto yours as he produces a velvet box and opens it. There sits a white gold ring topped by a dainty solitaire diamond. Your eyes immediately rim with tears as you hear Sonny softly speak your name. "Will you marry me?"

A large smile erupts upon your face and you instantly blurt out a "yes!"

Sonny's expression changes to one of pure love. He delicately slips the ring on your finger and quickly rises to capture your lips in a kiss.

You wrap your arms around his neck and he effortlessly scoops you up. "I'm so happy," you speak against his lips, eliciting a tight squeeze from your fiancé.

Fiancé! Sonny Carisi is your fiancé! The man you love with your whole heart. You've always believed that it isn’t the ring on their finger that make two people married – that’s at least how committed you feel towards Sonny – Yet now, you couldn’t be happier to make what you share official.

"I'm so happy too, doll! I love you! I love you! I love you!" Sonny reciprocates in between swift kisses to your cheeks, nose and lips. Then his eyes darken and he bows his head towards your neck, nibbling and suckling at the sensitive skin that resides there.

You sigh, a tingling sensation spreading throughout your body. God, is he good at this! But then, your mind comes back to reality and you gently, albeit reluctantly, push him away. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!” you chant, tapping your hands lightly on his chest.

Sonny pulls back but his eyes still hungrily flicker to where his lips were focused mere moments before.

“I have to go call my mom! She’d kill me if she knew I didn’t tell her right away.” You watch as Sonny smirks. “But then I promise we’ll celebrate properly…after all, you still haven’t seen what’s underneath this dress.”

-x-

Fluffy enough for ya? Heehee

Tag list? @barbasbodaciousbeard @teamsladsandgents @adarafaelbarba @caracalwithchips @averyhotchner (let me know if you want to be added/removed)

#Sonny Carisi #sonny carisi x reader #Sonny Carisi x You #sonnyshine of my life #law and order svu #SVU fanfiction #the Changes Verse #my fanfic #changes #SVU s18

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popopretty · 3 years

Text

Storm Bringer Spoilers (10)

A small part from the Epilogue where Chuuya and Dazai met up with Dr. Wollstonecraft. It was from one of the translation requests I got long ago and this part is fun, everyone is so adorable, so here it is.

Feel free to retranslate if you want. Just note that I am not a native speaker in either Japanese or English so I make mistakes sometimes.

Chuuya went back to the pier, and as he was about to get on his bike, a black car slowly approached him. The window at the back seat slowly came down and the person inside called out, "Chuuya".

That was Dazai. It was a rare sight. He had his black suit and his tie on, the formal attire for guests greeting.

"Work is in five minutes."

Chuuya and Dazai were standing under the gangway of a luxury passenger ship.

That was a ridiculously expensive fancy liner. The ship that Shirase had boarded before that was incomparable to it, both in size and materials. Its paint was chalk-white without a spot, the five-story guest rooms were decorated like the finest hotels. No matter where the passengers went, they would be accompanied by a skilled guide on board. The ship was also known for its navigational capability. Even when it sailed at twice the speed of an ordinary ship, its turbulence was less than one tenth of a normal one.

That ship was called "The Boswellian".

The government's passenger ship that only high-ranking government officials were allowed to board.

The gangway was lowered and delegation descended in front of Chuuya and Dazai's eyes.

First were the guardsmen in black suits. They cautiously looked around at all directions. The bulges around their waists showed that they were all carrying guns.

After that came some bearded men who looked like officials. Old, capable, with gray brown eyes that showed no hints of what they were thinking. Their clothes were of top-quality. A man carrying a cane with a golden spiral pattern on it was pushing the crew who was trying to help him off board with the tip of his cane, so crudely as if he was chasing away a stray dog on the street.

"The noble demons of England have showed up." Dazai murmured in a voice that only Chuuya who was standing next to him could hear.

Those people were high-ranking officials of the British government who came here for the post-incident investigation, the “Assassination King incident" that occurred through multiple levels of state secrets. A team of investigators were dispatched to Japan to investigate this serious case that went beyond a normal criminal case, and report to the government. And Port Mafia had come forward to welcome the team and cooperate with them in the investigation, as a party to the case.

Illegal organization Port Mafia is in charge of welcoming the investigation team of the British government.

It was an odd situation, but there was a certain rationale and calculation of the Boss behind it.

First of all, the one who had the whole picture of the incident this time was neither the Ministry of Foreign Affairs nor the police, but Port Mafia. As from the beginning, the European governments had been trying to hide it completely from the Japanese government. Also from the Port Mafia side, they also had a reason to keep a close eye on the movements of the mighty British government.

That was because they suspected that these people might try to eliminate every person of Port Mafia who was involved in this incident to cover up the "Assasination King incident" that arose from the state secrets.

Obviously, Port Mafia had no intention to reveal the truth and the secrets of the case. But it was hard to tell how much the British would believe in words of a criminal organization. That was why Dazai was sent to greet them. If they really had the intention to eliminate the people involved, Dazai would have to negotiate to stop that from happening. If the negotiation failed, then Port Mafia would have to eliminate the investigation team before the other party had the chance to eliminate them. That was why Chuuya was accompanying him. Depending on the other party's actions, this might turn into an interstate war that involved the whole Port Mafia.

“Well, let the fun deception game begin.”, Dazai said excitedly as he headed towards the investigation team.

The guard men immediately reacted to the person approaching, their hands reaching for their waists where the guns were.

“Thank you for coming all the way here, ladies and gentlemen of the great British Empire.” Dazai's attitude changed completely as he greeted the guests with a fluent and courteous voice. “You must be the members of the investigation team? I know this is sudden but may I ask who your representative is?”

“Representative?” the guardsman whom Dazai directed this question to looked rather confused and tilted his head. "This is the technical advisory unit of the investigation team so if you say representative, I think that might be Dr. Wollstonecraft...”

Dr. Wollstonecraft?

Chuuya tilted his head. He had heard that name somewhere before.

“Aa!” Dazai seemed to get it right away. “I heard that name before. That’s the skilled engineer who designed Investigator Adam Frankenstein, right? Hmm... you must be Dr. Wollstonecraft then?” Dazai followed the gazed of the guardsman and called out to the most dignified and oldest man in the investigation team. He had a shaggy white beard, a receding hairline, and two medals for achievements in the military science sector pinned to his chest.

The old man noticed Dazai’s voice and laughed out cheerfully.

“No no, I’m not Dr. Wollstonecraft. I’m just tagging along. Doctor is... Look! She's getting off the ship right now.”

Dazai and Chuuya followed the old man’s eyes and looked up at the ship’s gangway. At the top of it, an oversized travel suitcase was left there unassisted. Wait...

“Okay. Nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Wollstonecraft... Oh so this is the said country? It looks bigger than on the map.”

The small figure that appeared from behind the suitcase, no matter how you looked at her...

“... How old is that?”

That was a little girl.

Blond hair, white blouse. The suitcase was big, but she was also small enough to be completely hidden behind it. She wore a big pair of round glasses that covered half of her face. And on her chest were more than twenty medals for achievements in science.

“Hey hey...” Chuuya made a drawn face.

“Oh! It's getting interesting.” Dazai laughed happily.

The little girl struggled down the gangway. She was holding the oversized suitcase, or rather, clinging onto it as it dragged her downwards.

“Heave ho! I am.. heave-ho... Dr... heave-ho! Wollstonecraft Godwin Shelley, heave-ho!”. The girl spoke every time she got off one step, still clinging on to the heavy luggage. “People call me the girl with a genius brain but, heave-ho, those are people who don't have the ability to see the essence of things. Heave-ho! My achievements are thanks to my special skill that make any designs possible. Heave-ho! And because I am a genius.”

“Hey, aren't you going to help her with that heavy luggage?” Chuuya couldn't stand it anymore and asked the bearded old man next to him.

“Hahaha. Doctor is the type of person who doesn't want anyone to touch her luggage.” the old man laughed cheerfully. "Even Her Majesty wouldn't be able to take that from her. Because if we do so, she will start crying and screaming, just like a kid who has gone back 10 years in time."

“If she goes back that much, isn't she gonna end up in her mother’s belly again...?” Chuuya said with a tired face.

“Also, she may look like that, but Doctor was really looking forward to this trip. That case is filled with her favorite essentials for this trip. No-one will be able to take it from her.”

“Old man! Don’t go around talking about me like I am just a normal little girl! I might be short but I will be a full-grown decent adult very soon.... heave-ho!”

Dr. Shelley finally got to the end of the gangway. She wiped off the sweat on her face and fixed her clothes with her hands. “Phew! Nice to meet you again, people of Japan. Well... you are Chuuya-kun right? Thanks for taking care of Adam.”

Upon hearing Adam’s name, Chuuya's face looked like he just shallowed a bitter thing down his throat. "I am not sure." , he then said. "The one who was taken care of was me."

The little girl fixed the big glasses to the middle of her face and stared at Chuuya.

“He died saving me... Doctor, Adam is your best work, right? I'm sorry for breaking it.”

“Hmm.”

Doctor Shelley observed Chuuya from the left, from the right, then stared at him closely from the front. Like she was observing an interesting research subject.

"You are right, Adam is my greatest work." , she said with her arms crossed. “Rather than sending him to a good-for-nothing island country like this for investigation, I’d have him in the lab and continue the research to upgrade him.”

Chuuya listened in silence. His expression was not looking at something in front of him at that moment. What he was seeing was some scenes of the past.

Doctor Shelley cleared her throat like a child then continued, “The best thing about Adam is that, he is equipped with the intelligence to think and judge the situation by himself. In other words, Adam chose to sacrifice himself out of his own will, his own judgement.” Dr. Shelley smiled. “Because you are worth it. I believe in Adam. I appreciate your apology, but it’s not something you need to worry about.”

Chuuya opened his mouth, trying to say something but he couldn't put it into words. Just like a child who had forgotten his way home, he just stood there with a stunned look on his face.

Seeing Chuuya like that, Dazai giggled as if he couldn't do anything about it.

“First off, from the beginning I didn't like the idea of using Adam for such a worthless investigation.” Dr. Shelley crossed her arms, looking sullen. “The government is always like that! They send out machine investigators for missions and when they are done with it, they just blow it up together with all the secret information. Even though we could have got the best test data from interacting with different cultures from those solo missions! Just because it's for the sake of human's life, they think that they can neglect science like that?”

To Chuuya and Dazai’s surprise, Doctor Shelley ordered her subordinate for “that” and had a black tube the length of an arm brought to her.

"That's why, such an ill-natured person like me had installed a detachable sub-processor and non-volatile memory. Without telling the government.” She took out the thing inside the black tube. “In here.”

The thing inside the tube that had the length of an arm, was actually an arm.

That was Adam’s right arm, the arm that Chuuya sent flying and stuck into the ground when he was escaping from inside of the Demonic Beast Guivre.

“This is...” , a question mark appeared on Chuuya’s face. “After the incident, I searched the scene but couldn't find it anywhere. Why is it here?”

“I mean, it's rather obvious to do this, isn't it?” Dr. Shelley put her finger on her huge travel suitcase. After her vital signals were verified, the auto-lock was released.

The figure that came out from the suitcase took the arm. And he said as he was attaching it to himself, “Do you want to hear an Android joke, Chuuya-sama?”

Chuuya stood still in shock. He kept his mouth open in surprise. Finally, he took a breath slowly through that mouth. A deep breath, as deep as he could. Then his expression changed as if he was about to burst.

And he laughed, "Hahaha...!"

#bsd #storm bringer #sb spoilers #bsd spoilers #spoilers #nakahara chuuya #dazai osamu #mary wollstonecraft #bungou stray dogs

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elfy-elf-imagines · 4 years

Text

Begin Again | Thranduil

Pairing: Thranduil x Elf!Reader

Genre: Fluffy new beginnings

Warnings: ---

Words: ~2k

Note: If you’d like to be added to a tag list for any of my works, there’s a link on my page 💕 Also, I’m big dummy and lost the original request, so I couldn’t remember what all you wanted in this one-shot. So requester, whoever you are, I’m so sorry! And if you’d like another part to expand on your full request, please let me know!

It’s strange.

You’re whole life, you’ve always heard about how horrible it is for an elf to lose the one they love. It’s been described as feeling as though you’ve been ripped into two pieces, forced to live on without your second half. You’ve heard it feels like tiny needles stabbing into your heart until you can’t feel anything but a stifling anguish that seeps into your bones, poisoning your body from within until you eventually fade away.

Yet you feel none of that. You feel nothing at all, like a soul wandering aimlessly for the rest of eternity, cursed with never finding a purpose or reason to stick around. But being forced to endure, none-the-less. You can sail, as an elf that’s your right, and perhaps you would find peace, wrapped in the warm embrace of Valinor as you forget all your fears and pain.

But you don’t want to be happy, because being happy means you forget, and you're not ready to forget your beloved yet.

The forest floor beneath you is damp from the rain that blessed Eryn Galen a few days ago. The mud sinks in between your toes as you nearly melt into the soft ground. The forest around you is lush and green, wrapping you in its warm embrace that allows for a moment of respite from your thoughts.

The forest is empty, only the gentle sway of the trees and emerald leaves falling to the ground your company. You stare up at the sky that peaks through the canopy of leaves, the stars are out tonight and they burn brighter than you’ve ever seen them. And you wished to climb to the tops of the trees if only to feel the soft glow of moonlight on your skin.

But that would be a foolish thing to do, a whimsy only a child would fulfill. So you simply stand in the clearing, selfishly hoarding the only spot you’ve discovered that the sky is visible.

You thought yourself alone, something you covet more often than not.

And yet.

“Forgive me, I did not realize this spot was currently occupied,” a baritone voice sounds behind you.

Your heart pounds against your chest, the owner of the voice easily recognizable through your deep daydreams. Whirling around quicker than you’ve ever moved, you see King Thranduil standing at the edge of the clearing. He’s lacking the usual extravagant attire he usually dons, instead opting for a slightly more casual outfit. But he still wears clothes that could’ve been woven from silver and gold, the cloth glittering in the dim light.

“My king,” you say, immediately bowing your head down in respect, thoroughly inspecting your dirtied feet. “I will take my leave.”

“There is no need, it was I who interrupted you,” he moves further into the clearing and closer to you. His movements are smooth like a cat, his icy blue eyes lazily focusing on you.

“Yet you are the king,” you reply, voice hardly above a whisper.

King Thranduil is an intimidating figure, anyone within five feet of him would agree. Not in the way that lady Galadriel of Lothlorien is - her power so great you can’t help but feel suffocated, yet it is her kind smile that soothes even the most skittish. Lord Elrond carries himself with a warm presence, like a father he is kind and caring, but stern as well.

No, King Thranduil carries a sense of tragedy with him that can’t be masked by his cold eyes or looming figure. He is the shining example of how horrible things could get for an elf when their other half passes. So far gone is he, they whisper, that not even his son can pull him from his melancholy.

“Then as king, I order you to stay. It would be nice to have some company,” he responds, leaving no room for argument. So you nod your head in agreeance, but keep your head lowered, tracing every speck of mud covering your toes.

“Would you not even look at your monarch?” he asks, but his voice isn’t laced with anger or malice and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think there’s a hint of humor in it.

“I apologize, My King,” you say, lifting your head to meet his gaze. Your eyes meet his and for a second, you jolt, a sensation filling your body, something you haven’t felt in years.

“I have never seen you before. How have I never seen you?” he questions, thick brows furrowing in frustration and confusion, but his eyes remain locked on you, as do yours.

“Y/N, My King. I just arrived here a few moons ago from the Lorien,” you respond. He says nothing for a few moments, keeping his intense gaze locked on you. And for a brief second, you swear that he could read each and every thought that passes your brain, that’s he seen every memory you have.

“Well then, allow me to formally welcome you to Eryn Galen, Lady Y/N. Tell me how have you found my kingdom, thus far?” he asks, sweeping his arm out in a grand gesture as he welcomes you.

“It is very beautiful, My King. The trees are so tall and the leaves so green,” you say, glancing up towards the sky, enraptured by the emerald canopy above you.

“Do they not have trees this tall in the Lorien? I was under the impression their forest was quite beautiful,” he replies, sharp eyes locked on you.

“They do but not quite like here. Do not misunderstand me, the Lorien possesses great beauty, the mallorn tree is magnificent to look upon, but Eryn Galen offers a different beauty. I find myself in great need of change these days, it would seem.”

“Perhaps one day you could humor me and tell me of what would need to warrant such a drastic change?” You turn to look at him, meeting his steely gaze, and he raises a single eyebrow at you. However before you can open your mouth to speak, he turns and leaves. Leaving you behind in the small clearing, and for a moment, your heart starts fluttering in a way it hasn’t in a long time.

And you turn back around, watching the leaves dance through the sky, free from the confining grasp of the branches. A small smile rests on your face, losing yourself in daydreams you never thought you’d see again.

“Lady Y/N, how lovely of you to join me,” King Thranduil's voice is crisp and clear, perfectly projecting across the large room. He sits languidly at a chair, carved from wood with delicate engraving dancing on the tops of them. A glass of wine in one hand and the other slung over the top of his chair, he is the picture of ease.

“It is my pleasure to join you, My King,” you reply, lowering your gaze to the floor once he meets yours. With slow and tentative steps, you move towards the open space to his right, where a glass of wine already poured. Your heart is racing, sweat building up in the palms of your hands as you open and close them. What feels like a lifetime later, you reach the chair, a guard so still he could’ve been a statue, pulling it out for you as you sit in it.

“Thank you,” you quietly say as the guard pushes your chair forward.

“Please, leave us” Thranduil’s voice is commanding and firm, not allowing any room for questions he does not wish to answer. Silently and quickly, every guard in the room filters out. And as their light footsteps disappear, you and Thranduil are left in the room...alone.

A small burst of courage surges through you, your gaze leaving the fine china it was tracing over and over again to meet his gaze. His eyes are just as icy blue as you remember, but somehow they seem softer than they had been in the forest. Or perhaps the light is playing tricks on you.

Everyone knows that elves only truly love once.

Your mouth is dry, nerves suddenly overtaking you. What are you supposed to say; to do? You’ve never spent much time in the presence of royalty, often preferring to stay in the shadows, content with a simple life. Yet fate seems to have other plans for you. Or is this just simply Thranduil, and the gods have nothing to do with his intentions - whatever they may be?

“Do not be so nervous. Please, drink. The food will be ready momentarily,” Thranduil says, motioning towards you with a wine goblet in hand. You nod, still silent as ever.

With a shaky, damp hand, you reach towards your wine goblet, grasping the cold metal in your warm hands. Taking a deep breath, you pick it up, bringing it towards your lips. The wine is smooth as it pours down your throat, cool and soothing to the dessert inside your mouth. It’s slightly sweet, not at all holding the bitter aftertaste the wine of Man possesses.

You set the glass down, turning your attention to Thranduil. He watches you with sharp eyes, an expectant look on his face.

“It is very good, Your Grace,” you mutter, and in exchange for speaking so quietly, you manage to keep your voice steady.

“Excellent.”

You smile, and it’s all nerves and anxiety, closely resembling a grimace rather than a beaming grin. Your heart is fierce against your chest, and you fear in that moment he will hear it. But if he does, he doesn’t comment on it.

“If I may be so bold, Your Grace, might I enquire as to why you’ve called me here?” Your voice is louder this time, but there’s a slight waver towards the end, betraying everything you feel.

He’s silent for a moment as if he’s gathering his thoughts, figuring out a way to deliver whatever is running in his mind. You nearly crack, the apology for overstepping your boundaries on the tip of your tongue when he finally speaks.

"Am I not allowed to simply get to know my subjects?" Thranduil asks, a sly smirk resting on his lips. He brings the goblet of wine to his lips, slowly sipping it. He lowers it slightly so that it rests just below his chin.

"Of course, but I suppose I'm just curious as to why you've invited me to a private meal with you. Am I correct to assume you don't do this with every one of your subjects?" you say, your eyes wide like a doe, with hands in your lap. Your fingers intertwine with each other, a way to distract you from the anxiety in you.

Thranduil continues to watch you, an unreadable expression in his ocean eyes. He inhales deeply, leaning farther back into his chair. After a few moments of silence, he opens his mouth.

“I find myself wanting to get to know you better. I find you intriguing.” Your mind turns blank, all sense and reason leaving it. For a moment you don’t believe you’ve heard him correctly, not grasping that a king would be so curious about you.

“I do not understand, what about me is so interesting? We’ve only met once, hardly having a full conversation,” you say. Your voice is firmer than before, drowning with disbelief.

“Then it would seem you’ve made an impression.”

You open your mouth, and then promptly close it, not sure how to proceed. Your heart is fluttering, though due to anxiety. Not this is something… different, a type of nervousness, but not due to fear. A light feeling that also leaves you light with giddiness and not weighed down by dread.

But it can’t be.

Elves only love once. Yet the mantra you’ve repeated over and over again seems to be losing its weight, the words no longer feeling as true as before.

“Would it be alright, if I were to get to know you better, My Lady?” he asks, his voice softer than before, his fair face still neutral, yet less austere than it had been the first time you met.

Elves only love once.

And yet.

“I would like that very much, Your Grace.” Your smile widens, less unsure than before, your eyes shining like starlight. The prospect of something new is exciting yet also terrifying at the same time. You should run and hide, fiercely guarding your already fragile heart like a dragon watches over its treasure hoard.

Elves only love once. And yet.

You push aside those fears, in favor of welcoming a chance at a new beginning.

And yet.

o0o0o

Tags:

#thranduil imagine #the hobbit imagine #thranduil #the hobbit #lord of the rings #thranduil x reader #the hobbit one shot #mirkwood elves #mirkwood imagine

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pure-kirarin · 4 years

Text

Forbidden fruit - Doflamingo x f!reader (nsfw)

Summary : You fell for the trap, caught like a butterfly in a spider web, his spider web. You, a new counselor at impel down, met with the ex warlord Donquixote Doflamingo for a counseling session. However, he had other plans in mind... TW: smut, manipulation, unprotected sex.

A/N : Heyo !! I am finally coming back with a DOFFY X READER smut this time. Actually it’s my first *blushes* and...honestly this is so..sinful...please don’t judge hahah. Buuut...any feedback is welcome and I had LOTS OF FUN writing this, so enjoy <3

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Why was the taste of forbidden fruit so tantalizing ? Why did the mere thought of him make you shiver and yearn for his touch ? What was with the tone of his voice and with his flesh thirsty lips that just drove you insane ? You cursed yourself for the time you set a foot in that place. If only you didn't wake up that day...It all started a month ago when you got a new job in the great prison also known as « Impel Down ». You were surprised at first when you heard from some of your sources that the prison was recruiting a counselor for its prisonners. You were even more surprised when you heard that your candidature was taken. In fact, you have just got your diploma and you only worked in some local hospitals for a few months. It didn't even occur to you that no sane person would want to deal with the criminals of Impel Down. You were an idealistic and optimistic girl that had a strong faith in humanity. You were empathic and devoted to make these people's lives a little better. You didn't care what anyone did, who were you to judge after all ? At this point, you have never dealt with criminals and it showed, your innocence was going to get the best out of you.

A few days in, you learned that your presence was needed for a program set up by the world government to incorporate the less dangerous inmates in society later on and to help the most dangerous ones collaborate.

In just a few weeks you did an amazing job with the level one inmates. You became trusted and loved. These men were thrilled to see what they called « fresh meat », however, they didn't lay a hand on you as you were given a bracelet that called the gards whenever you felt in danger and also because you only accepted to meet up in your own office. Weirdly enough, you felt like you were making a change, it was a selfish feeling, the feeling of a girl that needed to prove to herself that she was needed. You started bringing the newspaper to some inmates that wanted it and even sneaking in some of their favourite food. You never felt endangered by these men. You started to gain confidence in your skills and in yourself. You were playing once again the rôle of the nurse, as if you were responsible for other people's mis-steps.

After a month of that rather fulfilling daily routine, you discovered on your planning that you were meeting for the first time an inmate from level six. It was a name that you knew well...Donquixote Doflamingo, the famous former warlord of the sea. No inmate from level six has ever wanted to take part of the program, so you were puzzled. You felt a bit scared just like your first day there, but then, you gained confidence when you remembered your good experience till now.

That day, you were convoked to Hannyabal -the chief warden's- office. He was a weird and disgusting looking man. He was also extremely gullible and easy to seduce. You knew it too well since that's how you convinced him to have no guards with you when you were working. You wanted to make the inmates feel comortable enough to trust you and talk with you after all. You stepped into Hannyabal's office, It was cold and gloomy, he asked you to take a seat :

-Good morning Mrs. Y/N. You are looking good today.

-Good morning Sir. Thank you sir. You say, uncomfortable.

-So today you are meeting with an inmate from level six, Donquixote Doflamingo, he is extremely dangerous. Don't hesitate to use your bracelet if you feel in danger I will come to save you-- I mean, everyone will be right there to assist you ! This whole counseling thing is a formality, so please don't feel pressured or anything. The world government obliges us to offer counseling for inmates that ask for it...However, no one from level six has ever asked. If you'd like, If you're ready I will escort you to Doflamingo's cell.

-Thank you Sir. I would like that. You get up from the chair and take a folder with the ex warlord's information from the chief warden's insistant hands.

You both got going till you reach the elevator. You suddenly felt a bit stressed but you try not to show it. Level six was humid and extremely cold. Your legs were shivering a bit under your skirt. The blue atmosphere, lighted by the faint flame coming from the lantern, made you feel extremely uncomfortable.

- Doflamingo is staying in a solitary cell. He slits the key in the key hole opening a first door. A unique cell was there, at the back of the corridor in total darkness. I will come look for you after two hours. Are you sure that you don't want assistance ? I mean, it's true that he is chained in sea stones and can't do anything but still....

-Don't worry about me sir. I have some experience now Sir. Also, I have the bracelet with me. However....Could I ask for a little favor ? You said, getting closer to him.

-Y-yes of course ! He answers with heart-shaped eyes.

-You won't need to come get me later...I will do it myself...I just need those keys...your voice was sensual and soft.

-B-but...Mrs (Y/N)...

-I will be alright please...

-Alright...alright...He gives you the keys and the lantern. But don't tell anyone and give them back to me once you are done...Are we clear ?

-Thanks a lot ! You say with a bright smile, leaving a kiss on his cheek. You really are the best.

The chief warden leaves you after that, heart still pounding from your burning kiss. You have a little victorious smile then get close to the cell. Only the sound of your heels slamming against the stone floor was heard. As you get closer, you start hearing the slamming of chains. You bring the lantern closer to the cell and slit the key in before getting in and closing it behind you. You discover what you have guessed to be Donquixote Doflamingo. He was chained on the floor with a crazy smile on his face and curved sunglasses that prevented you from catching his sight. The cell was medium sized, there was also a little table and two chairs, which was probably a new addition just for your consultation. The man's face turns towards you, at his sight, you felt an incredible energy that made you take a step back. But you tried to bring yourself back to your senses. You had to assert yourself and your position. You weren't here to be scared but to help.

-So, it's Mr. Donquixote Doflamingo if I am right. You get close from the little table and put the lantern and the files on it. Then, you get closer to him, and you bend over to be at his height. I am Mrs. (Y/N). I will be your counselor for today following your request. I will unchain you but keep your handcuffs on...I would like to have a talk with you as we are sitting right there.

Even the worst criminals needed dignity, you thought. You were here to help your clients, and you were ready to treat everyone as human beings. You didn't feel comfortable speaking to a chained man on the ground. Once you unchain him, he gets up. He was extremely tall, even more than you have expected. He must have been around three meters tall and next to him, you looked like a little mouse, fragile and harmless. You didn't want to make him see through your intimidation, so stepped back and held your arm up ;

- This bracelet, if I press this button, the guards will come and an alarm system will be set off. So let's have a nice session and cooperate, Mr. .

His smile was crazy, No, no normal man would smile that way. You then heard his laugh, a throaty and menacing laugh. He looked at you with the look that you have never encountered in the eyes of any other inmate. You could feel it through his sunglasses, and that's when you realized that he wasn't just another inmate.

-Oh, drop the threats already, Miss (Y/N)...Let's have a nice session....

He just repeated what you said but out of his lips, it was so indecent that it made you blush, realizing the sloppiness of your phrasing. You cleared your throat and took a seat, then made a gesture with your hand pointing towards the other seat.

-Please take a seat. Make yourself comfortable Mr. Donquixote. You say, ironically feeling extremely uncomfortable. You took advantage of the few seconds of silence to examine his appearance discreetely. He looked a little different from the newspapers pictures. In person and without his usual eccentric attire, he looked more menacing. You didn't notice that you held your breath as he took a seat in front of you. His face was partially illuminated by the lantern. His tan skin looked like that of an oil panting under the dancing flame. Don't lose your calm. Don't get destabilized by that aura of him, you repeated in your head endlessly.

A pen was resting between your thumb and your index. You pretended to look at the files for a moment. Then, his voice came, low and intense.

-Oh...I will get comfortable. My. If I knew that you were this beautiful I would've asked to see you earlier. He says with a smirk, looking at your clevage without even a trace of embarrasment.

You gasped, surprised, it wasn't the first time that an inmate complimented you, in fact, it was common. Imagine a place full of men without even a woman in sight. Some of these men haven't seen a woman in more than ten years, they looked at you like caged beasts, but his look was different, he had a strong energy that made you feel naked. You were quick to put him back in what you thought was his place.

-Mr. Donquixote. That is inappropriate. Let's start the consultation right now.

-I do like the sound of Mr. Donquixote...But you can call me Doffy. Make yourself comfortable.

He says with an enigmatic smile, and you weren't sure what was his motive, but as naive as you were, you kind of believed that maybe after staying so long alone, he wanted some kind of company, or to feel like someone he knew was there...After all, there weren't visits allowed in Impel Down unlike any other prison.

-So..Mr. Donquixote, you repeat, ignoring his request and turning the pages, looking at his info, you were incarcerated for opposing the world government, underworld illegal activities, allying with one of the yonkos and overthrowing a legitimate king and stealing his throne, am I right ?

He looks, amused, at your shaky hand, you were almost endearing to him, he almost wanted to take a bite. He corrects you then, smiling as always, looking at you and leaving you harmless as you couldn't look at him back, his eyes hidden behind the shaded glasses ;

-Oh I see that you reviewed your lessons pretty well. You just have something wrong right there. I didn't overthrow a legitimate king. I am the legitimate king of Dressrosa. I also orchestered the mass murder of my subjects by controlling them, just like this. He holds his hand up, amused, looking right in your fear-colored eyes. He suddenly gets close to your face, almost jumping towards you and you couldn't stop a little shriek of fear from crossing your lips. He then starts laughing, his laugh echoeing in the small cell.

-God, look at you, poor little lamb, are you already scared ? I'm just teasing you right there...There is nothing to be scared of...

He was getting close, too close for your own wellbeing. You weren't able to hide your turmoil anymore. He leans back again on the chair and looks at you, you were quite the entertainment. He surprisingly found you to his taste and he didn't even try to hide it. He was going to get his way anyways, but it was a nice bonus that you were of a delectable beauty. Looking at your lips, he licks his own, disarming you yet once again. You try to asses your now diminishing control and clear up your throat.

-Mr...Let's start shall we !! Well, why did you ask to see me ?

Alright, that was extremely stupid, but it was as if you almost forgot how to use words in his presence. You bite your lower lips, you felt so uneasy but you didn't want to be so transparent under his hungry gaze. You really did feel like a lamb and he was the starved wolf, you felt as if you were his prey right there.

-Do I need a reason to ask to see my counselor ?

-Oh..No you don't I was just...curious...

And here you are, acting totally unprofessional in his presence. You should assert yourself, you are the one asking the questions, you are the one in charge, even if that man is more than one meter taller. Your start twitching your leg as you keep writing something on your paper, it was a quirk that you had everytime when you felt stressed. The smallest of details caught his eye, as they say, the devil was in the details. He liked destabilizing you and he was surprised at how easy it was. He wondered how did you make it up to one month in this place full of dangerous criminals.

Your job as a counselor consisted at first of understanding the motives behind your client's actions and to create a trusting relationship in order to help integrate them later on. You didn't lose any further time and asked :

-So, tell me about your family. It was a basic question to get him to open up. Generally, relationships with relatives and family were meaningful for understanding the mind of a criminal.

-My family ? He laughs, so that's what you want to chat about, beauty ? You flinch at the sound of this word out of his lips. Alright. I will satisfy your curiousity. I killed both my father and my brother. I am sorry to disappoint you Miss (Y/L/N), if you are looking for a sad story to feel empathy over, this isn't one. Everything I have done I did out of my own will.

He gets closer to your face, once again, and you feel paralyzed, as if you were just a puppet and he was pulling the strings. He have commited the worst thing a human can commit, parricide, and for a second your eyes looked at his restrained hands and you wondered how could a human's hands do such a thing. He had long and slender fingers, he had the hands of an artist, was that what the hands of a murderer looked like ?

-Oh sorry miss, did I scare you ? I was just playing a little bit, no need to feel so tense.

His voice was suave, dripping with poison. He was having his fun, you thought. He was pushing your buttons and enjoying every second of it. He was toying with your mind, knowing how little experience you had. He was reading in you because he wasn't one of these other patients you had dealt with, he showed you how tough you had to become in order to handle the tension from such manipulative creatures, monsters that would kill mother and father to get what they want.

-Mr Donquixote. I am trying to do my job right here, this isn't a game. Shaky voice, fake toughness.

But if you were aware of such things, where did that thrill come from ? Why did you see him as a man and not as a demon, despite his evil laugh and impredictable behavior ? Was it the demenaour of a charismatic male that was a warlord and a king just a few months ago that had that effect of you ? Or was it the same kind of irrational and stupid attraction that a middle schooler feels for bad boys ? But you weren't in middle school anymore and he was a criminal. You weren't the protagonist of some popular soap opera. You were a counselor and he was a man whose hands have killed more men than you could've imagined.

-Look at yourself trying to act tough and to impress me....Drop these little games already, we both know that it's useless... Miss (Y/N)...I didn't just want to talk to my counselor...I think that you would've guessed it by now...? You're a smart girl after all...

He says in a voluptuous whisper, and you forgot how to breathe for a second. No word crossed your lips, you froze, skin cold while his breath was so hot on your flesh. What was wrong with you, getting flustered by his tricks ? You couldn't get caught in his spider web, you couldn't let him lead the session and act as he wanted. But...Why was everything he said so sensual ? Why did the way he talk make you feel helpless, make you feel like you wanted to see what is coming next ? You were flirting with fire, some morbid curiousity made you keep your mouth shut, waiting for the gratification of his next words just to push him away afterwards.

He leans in and licks your neck, from the starting of your clevage to that area behind your ear. You shiver, feeling his hot tongue on your skin and his steady breathing on your cheek. Your body that was so cold starts tingling, was it fear or anticipation ? He was a dangerous criminal and Hannyabal has warned you more than once. What were you waiting for to press the button on your bracelet ? Were you too scared to do it, or perhaps, did you want a taste of what's forbidden ?

-It's alright to indulge from time to time sweetheart...Come on...I see that you're dying for it.

You try to push him away, putting your tiny hands on his broad chest, blushing from his insinuations. It was unaccaptable, assuming that YOU were dying for it when HE was the one making these filthy advances. Your ego couldn't take it, and the thrill that was once there vanished as you threatened ;

-Are you out of your mind Mr ?! What you are saying is unacceptable ! If anyone ever found out about this you will-

-No one would. He cuts you right there. You made a huge mistake my dear. I will tell you what it is right now....You should never play with fire if you don't want to get consumed by it...

He places his cuffed hand on your throat, applying just a bit of pressure on it. Those hands that he used to...they were on your skin. The tension in your body released as you looked at him as if he had hypnotized you. His touch was extremely warm and you were curious for such a man. You were curious about how a man like him could love a woman. You wondered for a second about how such a man treats his lovers, and if the hands that killed were capable of taking someone to heaven. You didn't realize that you were slowly falling like a ripe fruit in the palm of his hand.

-I will press the button...

-You won't. His voice was firm, almost like an order. The pressure from his hand releases and his hand lays now on your cheek, caressing it softly. You didn't move, you didn't press the button. You felt a knot in your stomach, your cheeks extremely hot and your heart throbbing. You were ready to give years and years of life just to see what was going to happen. Before you even realized, you already hankered for that throbbing.

He placed his hand on your collarbone and it was slowly slipping, deliciously moving towards the fraction of your exposed chest, making you shiver. You felt terrified by the carnal desire that took over you, pure instinct. You felt frightened by your lusting over that forbidden fruit ; a complete stranger, a patient, a monster. He was thrilled by the look on your eyes, only encouraging him to go on. His hand now explored your bare chest under your shirt, making your breath heavier. It was the point of no return. You left your head roll back a little, letting out of a whisper of ease. He brushed and pinched your hard nipples, pushing your buttons, making you want him more and more. You bite your lower lip and murmur softly ;

-We really shouldn't be doing this...

-Do you want me to stop ? He said as he took off your shirt.

You cursed him for letting you have that choice, but he knew all too well that you were already dancing in the palm of his hand. You weren't able to say anything. He lifted you up easily and put you seated on the table. Your were startled by his move, scared and thrilled about what's going to happen. He softly caresses your neck, kissing it softly, whispering into your ear ;

-Say it and I will stop...He repeats.

Shit..Shit...shit ! I am not going to give in...no ? I am not going to give in to him, he is a criminal...I worked hard to get this job...I will lose my job...I won't give in to him...Will I ?...Your eyes were veiled by lust, he was dragging you in as if he was pulling you towards him by invisible threads. You were charmed and intimidated, he has such a sexual presence, you felt it through all your body and especially down there. You mumbled, your voice shaking, feeling ashamed but tempted ;

-Don't...your voice was a bearly audible whisper, to which he smiled, victorious.

-See ? It's not that hard....What a good girl you are. Here...I'll give you what you deserve...

His praising made you blush. You were yearning for his validation and affection. You moan softly when he slides his hand under your skirt, caressing your inner thigh. He squeezes your warm skin, getting closer to your slit.

He lays a finger on your dampening panties, feeling your depths over the fabric. You couldn't help but bite your lower lip, shameful.

-I haven't touched you and you're already so worked up doll ? He smiles in that detached way of his. I am very flattered.

-Please...touch me already. You look away, unable to face him.

He chuckled at your desperate words and one second after your skirt was down and your legs up on the table. Quite the sight. He licked his lips seductively before caressing your slit slowly over the fabric.

-What an impatient girl you are...It's almost cute.

He slides the fabric away now gently pressing on your entrance. His fingers were experienced and precise, he knew where exactly to touch you. He started caressing your clitoris in circular motions snatching moans out of your lips. You swallowed hardly, you weren't holding back anymore, fuck it. You already gave in to his touch. He continued to stroke you while his other hand gently squeezed your breast. You didn't understand how such hands could bring pleasure and also bring mourn. You whined, unable to wait more, wanting him to touch you more, to love you more. He slit a finger inside of you, effortlessly and you whined and squirmed under his touch.

-You are so wet that I feel like you're swallowing me...Such a horny slut.

Your blushed violently as he started thrusting his finger in and out of you in slow motions, driving you insane, leaving you yearning for more. Your hips were shaking with every thrust, he then suddenly added a second finger, carefully preparing you for his lenght.

-Oh....my...are you sad because I called you a slut ? He brushes your hair softly, but then why is there such a hungry look in your eyes ? You certainly enjoyed it, don't try to hide it...The eyes say it all.

-Doffy..

You tightened around his fingers, feeling the pleasure coming in waves, taking over you. Your legs were so weak and you wanted to close them already to make the motion stop as his increasing paace was getting overwhelming. He stopped you from that, forcing you to take in the pleasure that you were asking for. All logic and reason was away, your head was so clouded to even think about the danger that you were putting yourself through. As you were close to climax, he took off his fingers, leaving you puzzled.

- I...

-Do you think that you deserve it ? No I don't think that you do..not yet...

He smirked, getting closer to your face then captured your lips in a passionate kiss. You were taken aback as you kissed him back, hungry for more. You gathered your courage and slid your hands under his shirt, exploring his manly torso. You then lifted his shirt slightly, inviting him to take it off so you could feel his skin against yours. You just wanted to see all of him. If it was going to be a one time thing then, you wanted all of it...

Noticing this movement, he pulled back and took off his shirt, revealing perfectly sculpted abs. You were amazed by how good he looked despite being in prison. He was flattered by the eager look in your eyes and without giving you time to rest he started licking and sucking on your soft bud. You didn't expect him to do that but you couldn't say that you weren't waiting for it from the start. He sure knew how to pleasure a woman as his tongue made you quiever. His movement were once again slow, it was some kind of soft torture and you wanted more of him. Your nails digged into his shoulders, trying to contain your sloppy moans. His hands were holding your legs spread out quite firmly so you don't move. He then proceeded to slide two digits into you in conjunction to his tongue circling your clit. At this point, you were moaning so loudly that you got scared that anyone would heard the two of you. You almost fell backwars rom how much you were trembling and Doflamingo gently held you with his strong arm ;

-Careful honey, we're just getting started...

-P..please

-Please what ? He says with a smirk, teasingly tweaking your nipple before giving it a lick, reinserting his fingers inside of you.

-Hmm...Please..I want...I want you to..put it in...

-Shh...he whispers.

You felt shameless and humiliated but you felt no need to hold back as you were already playing with fire. You looked at the bulge forming through his pants and judging from the size you started to wonder wether you could take it in or not. You have never seen anyone bigger. He inserted a third finger, preparing you carefully for his lenght. He then took off his pants giving you a glimpse of his massive cock. He laughs at your shocked look and pushes down his fingers in your mouth, which you instinctively start licking tasting your own wetness. You were panting in anticipation, your chest going up and down, heavy breathing.

-Don't be scared...It will fit in just fine..He says as he presses just the tip on your entrance. You slightly moved to slide it in but he kept you forcefully in place with his free arm.

-Who told you to move already, (Y/N) ?...

The sound of your name out of his lips made you want crave for him even more. He continued teasing you by sliding it in just a bit, making you expect it to go in then stopping. This sweet torture was making you lose all control but he seemed calm and in perfect control.

-Please...Please Doffy..I'd do anything I..I just...I want you

He looked to the side, unable to contain a little smile, an endearing smile. He puts his hand on your cheek with his thumb on your lips and can't help but say ;

-You are so cute. So desperate for me to fuck you, huh ? You would do anything...What a shameless girl...Wanting me to fuck you so badly while you were acting so tough earlier...He gently starts to push his cock inside, earning a moan from your sweet lips, Alright, I'll give it to you...

He suddenly thrusts it inside of you, making you let out a soft cry of surprise but also that of discomfort because of his size. It didn't take you long to accomodate to his size since he prepared you so well. You finally felt relieved and complete, having him fill you so perfectly. You encercled his shoulders with your arms, finding support on him. His thrusts were getting more and more intense and deep, hitting that spot that made you feel so good. You couldn't help but moan in his ears, showing him how much you felt good, engraving each sensation into your brain so you never forget about him. It was hard to believe that it was the same controlled man that was going in so slowly only minutes earlier. His pace was aggressive and unpredictible. You felt overwhelmed by pleasure, sinking your nails once again in his tan skin.

-Oh...god...

-You're taking me so well...You are getting so tight around me.

He groans and holds your hair back tightly, forcing you to look at his face ;

-Look at me while I am fucking you

Your heart was pounding so fast as you felt him go in and out. Your moans were getting louder to the point that you were biting your lower lip quite hard in a failed attempt to contain yourself. As you were getting closer to climaxing, he just stopped all movement and completely slid out of you, leaving you empty. You looked at him with huge eyes as he sit back on the chair, his erection dripping with precum.

-If you want it so badly then come get it, dear.

Without any hesitation, you stepped on your feet, almost falling, legs shaking in front of him. You then sit on his lenght taking him in entierly, making him smirk and groan. You felt hesitant to move at first, ashamed of that slutty side of you that no one before him, a stranger, a criminal, has ever seen. And maybe it's only because you knew who he was that you were able to be so decadent. You started moving your hips slowly, feeling him against your walls, nipples brushing against his strong torso. He caressed your hair, almost lovingly and grunts ;

-You're a good girl...Fucking yourself like this-

He then suddenly lifts you up while still inside of you.

-But you're going too slow, I'll fuck you good, because that's what you deserve...

He then holds you against the table once again, his pace much more intense than yours. You held onto the table really tightly letting a cry of surprise and pleasure. He spread your legs wider filling you with every inch of his warm cock. It was a feeling you have never felt before with any man, the feeling of being with someone who knew how to pleasure you, someone that could break you with a snap of his fingers but who decided to take you to heaven instead. At this point, you only wanted him to free you from that longing in your loins.

-I..I am going to...

You couldn't even finish your sentence. He was going deeper inside of you with each thrust. Now, his hand was around your neck. He was losing control as well as you swallowed him inside.He was also getting close to the paroxysm of pleasure.

-Come for me, sweetheart.

You got overwhelmed by his pace and you finally could let it all out, you felt your insides twitch and pulse with every thrust. You held him tighter, letting out high-pitched moans, feeling your legs tremble as you came around his cock. Your whole body was spasming and your breath louder but that didn't stop him from pounding you even harder. For a moment you felt as if you were going to pass out but you managed to say nonetheless;

-I..I..Please..Come inside...

Were you out of your mind or did he really unleash that dark side of you ? Maybe a bit of both, but you knew that you wanted him to fill you up. He was surprised himself, but your words turned him on even more. He then let out a loud groan as he filled you with his seed in a last thrust.

-You're naughtier than what I expected...

He caresses your cheek and slides out of you, some of his essence dripping out all along your thighs. You felt so satisfied and out of breath, letting yourself fall back on the table. He looked at you with a smirk .

-You did so well...Now I will take this...

He pulls his pants up and bends down to where your bag was. He flips it over and its contenants spill on the ground. He takes the key of the cell and hold it up while looking at you ;

-I'm gonna take this now as my payback...Thanks doll..

You were too tired to even move, thinking that you were fucked, unironically. You have succombed, you have lost, but why didn't you even feel even a slight shadow of guilt ? You looked at him turn his back to you, walking all along the hallway. The only thing that you were able to think of was wether you were going to see him again. He has just unleashed the beast inside. -------------------- Thank you for reading <3 Leave feedback if you liked it hihi

#doflamingo #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo x reader #donquixote doflamingo x reader #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece scenario

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