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itadorey · 2 months

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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐏? — wriothesley

pairing: wriothesley x reader summary: after months of pestering, wriothesley finally gives in to charlotte's request for an interview, only to be surprised when you arrive at the fortress of meropide in her stead. genre: fluff, strangers to romance, kinda love at first sight, slightly awkward interactions notes: inspired by that line where charlotte says it's impossible to get an interview with the duke, i think wriothesley is def ooc but i also think he would be a decent flirt idk he has those vibes like he can definitely tease wc: ~4.2k

a shiver runs down your spine as the elevator you're on descends deeper underground, and you waste no time in exiting when you finally come to a stop and the doors open.

you carefully step out into the large hall, intuitively following the path as the elevator doors close behind you. the air feels even colder now that you're actually in the fortress of meropide, and you do your best to ignore the curious glances sent your way as you finally approach the front desk.

"hello! can i help you?" the receptionist, monglane, asks with a friendly smile. you take a moment to answer, too busy studying your surroundings as you lean forwards against the desk.

"um, yeah," you begin to say, pausing to shake your head lightly and give her a smile in return. "i'm with the steambird. i'm here to see the duke."

the receptionist's smile tightens considerably, and you manage to catch a glimpse of the mildly annoyed glint in her eye as she turns to shuffle some papers. "i'm afraid the duke doesn't have time for interviews today. you can always try requesting an appointment some other time."

"oh no!" you say hurriedly, waving your hands in an attempt to catch her attention. "i actually do have an appointment."

the skepticism in monglane's eyes is as clear as day, and you find yourself shrinking back when she studies you closely.

"so," she begins, hands dropping the papers she had previously been holding. "if i were to go get the duke and ask him if he has an appointment with the steambird today, he'd say yes?"

"yes," you respond confidently, tilting your head up slightly in a silent challenge. monglane sighs at your words, her lips parting to say something before someone else interjects.

"are you the reporter from the steambird?"

both you and monglane turn to face the newcomer, and the first thing you notice is how shockingly blue his eyes seem to be. you shift in place as his eyes trail over your form, studying him in return and barely registering the half-hearted smile he sends you before turning and giving monglane a nod. she nods once in return before giving you an apologetic smile, holding out her hand to press a visitor's pass into your palm.

"i am," you finally say, standing awkwardly as the man continues to stare at you. there's a slight clearing of the throat from monglane, and the soft noise seems to snap the man out of whatever thought he'd been lost in.

"you're not charlotte," is all he says, curiosity tinging his words as he motions for you to follow after him. you give monglane one last wave before trailing after him, reaching for the pen in your pocket as you introduce yourself. he repeats your name quietly, and you find your cheeks growing warm when you notice the look he sends you as he does so. "that's a pretty name. i'm wriothesley."

"it's an honor to finally meet you. charlotte sends her apologies," you say, choosing to dismiss his comment in an attempt to remain professional. you're scared a flirty remark might leave your lips otherwise. "she's recently fallen ill and asked me to go through with the interview for her. she walked me through all the acceptable topic and she also sends her thanks. she's aware that you're a busy man and both her and i want you to know that we're incredibly thankful you finally gave us the opportunity interviewing you."

"i thought it was about time," he says in return, shooting you a teasing grin as he leads you out of the tunnel. he sighs to himself as he wonders if you're deliberately ignoring his compliment, or only doing it to preserve your professionalism. the way you flush at his smile suggests that it's the latter. you remain silent as you finally step into what seems to be the center of the fortress of meropide, pausing in slight shock as your eyes take in the large structures around you.

the large tower in the center immediately catches your attention, and you let yourself turn in a slow circle, your eyes tracing the upper levels and taking note of the tunnels that seem to lead in and out of the central hub. you straighten up when you finally notice wriothesley standing in front of a door, his arms crossed as he watches you with an amused smile.

"may i take some pictures?" you ask sheepishly, tucking your pen back into your pocket before grabbing your kamera. you gesture vaguely to the room around you, unintentionally doing another turn and drawing out a soft chuckle from wriothesley. "i'm sure some pictures would only help people realize that the fortress of meropide is quite different from what they expect it to be."

"sure, knock yourself out," wriothesley says, nodding as he leans against the door behind him. you give him a smile in return before snapping a few pictures, doing your best to imitate charlotte's style of photography and capture images you think she might like. by the time you finish, wriothesley's eyes are still on you, and you find yourself unable to do anything but give him a sheepish smile.

"don't worry, i made sure that you're not in any of the images," you say quickly, nodding firmly as he gives you an unreadable look. "i know that was one of the interview requests."

"i don't mind," wriothesley blurts out before he can stop himself. he does his best to refrain from slapping his palm to his forehead as you give him a pleasantly surprised look, and he hopes that you don't notice the way he inhales sharply as you give him an excited smile. "i mean, as long as it doesn't end up on the front page."

"well then, may i?" you ask, fumbling with the kamera when he nods. you step forwards to position him in front of the door, making sure there's enough light to get a good picture. you're quick with your work, and before you know it, you have a picture of wriothesley standing in front of heavy metal doors, his arms crossed and the hint of a smirk on his face as he looks at the kamera.

it's a good picture, and you can't help but notice how handsome he looks in it. you're half tempted to disregard his words and put him on the front page anyways.

"shall we continue?" wriothesley asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. you nod softly, following after him as he finally pushes the door open and immediately being engulfed in cool air. you thank him when he holds the door open for you, stepping into a smaller room and waiting for him as he shut the door behind him.

there's a brief silence as the two of you stare at each other, and you're suddenly very aware of the fact that you're alone with the (incredibly handsome) duke of the fortress of meropide.

"shall we continue?" you repeat softly, causing wriothesley to clear his throat and nod before going up the stairs. you follow after him, holding on tightly to the railing. the staircase lead to another room, and you take note of the bookshelves lining the wall behind a large desk, which seems to be covered in scattered papers. you avert your gaze as wriothesley darts forwards to gather them all up, placing them neatly into a drawer before gesturing towards the sofa.

"we can take a seat over there," he says calmly, taking note of the respectful way you avoided looking at his documents. he follows after you as you make your way towards the couch, settling into the comfortable cushions before bringing your pen and notepad out. a shiver makes its way down your spine as you make yourself comfortable, and you find yourself absentmindedly wondering if the entire fortress is as cold as wriothesley's office.

"are you cold?"

you let out a distracted hum, turning to face wriothesley as he looks down at you with a soft frown. a slight shake of your head is all you give when you finally process his question, only to receive a disbelieving look in return.

"it's okay," you reassure him, flipping your notepad open to the questions charlotte had prepped in advance. "nothing i can't handle."

"i can make us some tea, if you'd like?" he asks, reaching for the teapot sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

"oh no!" you protest, shaking your head as you reach forward in an attempt to stop him. your hand closes around his forearm, and wriothesley finds himself frozen in his spot as you smile up at him. "i wouldn't want to be a bother."

"i assure you it would be no bother," wriothesley says in an attempt to reassure you. he reaches forward with his free hand, picking up the teapot as you let him go with a quiet apology. "if anything, it would make sense to chat over a cup of tea, would it not?"

"well, if you insist," you respond softly. a comfortable silence ensues as as he busies himself with preparing the tea, his movements smooth and almost graceful as he feels your gaze on him the entire time. you're half-mesmerized, watching him as he prepares everything and ends up with a pot of steaming, perfectly brewed tea.

he almost stops in his tracks when he turns around and immediately meets your gaze, the sparkle in your eyes almost causing him to lose both his confidence and his grip on the tea tray. he hurries towards the couch to avoid any potential embarrassment, smoothly pouring out two cups of tea before settling into the couch.

you flinch slightly when he half-accidentally, half-purposely lets his thigh press up against yours.

"let's get started?" you ask after taking a sip of your drink. you take the opportunity to scoot a bit away from wriothesley, trying to maintain your composure as you set the teacup down and reach for your pen and notebook. you flip through the pages until you reach charlotte's neatly written inquiries, and you inwardly cringe at the thought of marring the page with your slightly messier scrawl.

you angle yourself in wriothesley's direction, raising an eyebrow in silent question when you don't receive a response. he nods his head hastily when he realizes he's been silently staring at you, and he puts his cup down next to yours before making himself comfortable. your mouth goes dry as he sinks back into the couch, and you avert your eyes when he casually throws one arm across the back of the couch.

"so," you begin, clearing your throat before leaning back against the armrest. "to start us off: what do you think makes the fortress of meropide different when compared to other prisons?"

there's a moment of silence as wriothesley ponders your question, and he tilts his head to side as he tries to come up with a good response.

"to begin with, i think people tend to forget that prisons aren't just made for criminals to serve out their punishments," wriothesley says slowly. you nod along to his words, glancing up at him every so often as you try to jot down everything he says. "people are sent here to serve out their sentences, yes, but this place also serves as a type of... rehabilitation, if you will. as you could probably tell, there has been a community established over the years. people do what they can to contribute and earn credit coupons and it's become a place where they can feel like they finally belong."

you hum in acknowledgment as you scribble down his response, the scratching of your pen filling the silence between the two of you. wriothesley takes the opportunity to observe you more closely, taking in the way your hair shines in the dim lighting and the way your eyebrows furrow in concentration. he fails to avert his gaze when you finally look up, too distracted by the way you fiddle with the notebook pages to realize you're asking him another question.

"pardon?" he spits out, tilting his head towards you slightly. "can you repeat the question?"

the corners of your lips twitch in amusement, and you simply nod before taking another glance down at your notes. "a lot of people credit the success of the fortress of meropide to you. would you agree with them?"

wriothesley nods absentmindedly, freezing slightly when he realizes his response can come off as a little cocky. you try your hardest to keep yourself from giggling at his actions, simply choosing to wait and see what else he has to add.

"i mean, i wouldn't take full credit," wriothesley finally says, nodding to himself in approval. "i can admit that the place wasn't the best when i first arrived, and after i got to the position i'm in now, i thought i owed it to myself and the others to help that sense of community grow. a lot of folks here aren't as bad as they seem, and i think that if they really want to atone for their crimes, who am i to make their life more difficult? besides, it's always helpful to have people like sigewinne around. they always do the most to keep the place running smoothly."

"that's very admirable," you comment, shooting him a quick smile. there's a pause in your words as you take another drink from your teacup, and wriothesley is quick to copy you, his knee bumping against yours as he leans forwards for his cup. the two of you freeze for a split second, and wriothesley feels his heart speed up just the slightest bit when you don't move away from him. a smile threatens to spread across his lips.

"why did you choose to stay down here and take on the role of warden instead of heading back up to the surface?" you ask once the two of you have emptied your cups. wriothesley freezes at your question, and you give him a confused look before you take another glance at the notebook only to freeze as well.

there, scribbled in the margin next to the question, is d.n.a.

d.n.a. do. not. ask.

you feel yourself flush with embarrassment as you scramble to apologize, half formed words leaving your mouth as you try to avoid looking at wriothesley. you curse yourself for not paying close enough attention, worry flooding your veins as you think about how charlotte might react to your interview fumble.

"i am so sorry. please forgive me, i didn't notice charlotte's note saying not to ask that. we can move on to the next question or we can even end the interview here if you'd like," you manage to say in one breath. there's a noticeable tremor in your hands as you neatly gather all your notes and shove them into the notebook, not even waiting for wriothesley's response before acting. you only stop when his hand wraps around yours, halting your movements and drawing your attention back to him.

there's a tense silence as you wait for him to speak, and you find yourself wondering if his eyes are more blue or silver. it should be easier to determine considering how close the two of you are, but the dim lighting make it harder for you to decide. you fail to notice the way his gaze briefly drops down to your lips.

"it's fine, i'll answer the question," wriothesley finally says. you're brought out of your thoughts when you hear him speak, and your eyes widen in surprised as he leans back and makes himself comfortable again.

"are you sure?" you ask softly, letting out a soft sigh when he raises an eyebrow. "i just mean that you don't have to if you don't want to."

"i'm sure," is all he says. he gives you a reassuring nod when you don't make a move to reach for your notebook, and you gingerly remove your hand from his when you realize you've been still for too long. you try to channel your professional persona once more, but the embarrassment from earlier still has you faltering slightly as you uncap your pen.

"alright, go ahead."

"as i said earlier, things weren't always the best down here," wriothesley begins, immediately capturing your attention when you notice his softer tone. "having credit coupons is incredibly important if you want to survive, and although sometimes people don't always recognize it, having connections is equally as important."

there's a brief pause as he waits for you to scribble down his words, and you nod firmly when you catch up, eager to hear what else he has to say.

"you also tend to get used to life down here," he adds, his gaze now focused on the teapot in front of him. "a lot of people don't want to return to the surface because their afraid of being judged for their actions. down here, it's as if they got some kind of new start. it becomes a sort of save haven for them, and they might even get to live a life they can say they're satisfied with.

"i had a rough experience when i was still serving out my sentence and thought i could change things for the better. as i said earlier, who am i to make their lives more difficult if they're willing to put work in. these people just wanted somewhere to lead well-ordered lives, and i gave them the 'tranquility' they required," wriothesley reiterates. "by the time my sentence was up, the position of warden had mysteriously opened up and i thought i could do a pretty good job at cleaning up and running the place. i've been able to fix most of the things that were wrong here when i was still an inmate and i haven't had many complaints yet."

"you haven't," you agree, nodding softly before giving him a smirk. "even neuvillette has been known to sing your praises from time to time."

wriothesley barks out a laugh, earning an amused huff from you as you continue to write. he watches you for a while before softly speaking up once more.

"why did you choose to work for the steambird?" he finally asks, interest lacing his tone as he leans forwards. you blink at him once, twice, before bashfully shaking your head, aiming your gaze back down to the notebook to finish writing your thoughts down.

"im afraid my story is nowhere near as interesting as yours," you murmur, glancing up when wriothesley huffs out a laugh.

"i'm sure that's not true," he replies easily, a smile tugging at his lips. "regardless, i'd still love to hear about it."

"maybe after we're done with charlotte's questions," you say noncommittally. the rest of the interview goes smoothly, your earlier blunder forgotten as your confidence returns. there's a lot of soft smiles and banter exchanged between the two of you, and you find yourself wondering why wriothesley always refuses interviews when it's clear that he's great at giving them.

you don't even entertain the notion that the only reason he's so willing to speak is because you're the one asking the questions.

"well, that's it," you finally say, scribbling a few more comments before carefully shutting the notebook. you look towards the other end of the room, catching sight of the large grandfather clock and doing a double take when you notice the time.

"i believe i'm still owed an answer to my earlier question."

you turn to see wriothesley giving you a playful look, and you huff out a laugh before standing.

"i'm sorry but i hadn't realized it had gotten so late," you say quietly, eyebrows furrowing as you give him an apologetic look. "i'd love to stay but i have another interview in an hour and i was hoping to ask sigewinne a few things as well before leaving the fortress."

"that's quite alright," wriothesley states as he stands up, motioning for you to follow him. "i suppose we'll just have to reconvene at a later date. come, i'll show you to the infirmary."

you can't help but smile at his words before trailing after him, following him down the staircase and out the heavy metal doors as you reemerge into the central hub.

"if you really want those answers, perhaps you'll consider scheduling another interview with me and charlotte," you propose airily when you're in the elevator, noticing the amused glance wriothesley shoots you out of the corner of your eye. "i'll answer your questions if you're willing to answer more of ours."

a chuckles leaves wriothesley's lips as he leads you out onto the upper level of the fortress, heading towards the right and passing one of the pipe tunnels. "is that so?"

you hum in agreement to his question, following him up a set of steel steps that lead into the next pipe tunnel. you steal a glance at him when he slows down to walk besides you, raising an eyebrow when lets out a breath.

"how about we talk over a cup of tea?" he asks, eyeing you briefly before continuing. "but just you and i? perhaps i can show you my favorite cafe in the city?"

the two of you come to a stop in front of the entrance to the infirmary, and you see sigewinne wave at the both of you before tidying up the table in front of her.

"i think that sounds marvelous," you chirp, unable to fight the grin spreading across your face.

"great," he says, unable to keep from staring at you.

"great," you parrot, feeling your cheeks heat up under his gaze.

"it's a date," he states, smiling when your eyes widen in slight surprise. he wastes no time before turning away from you, facing the head nurse who has been pretending not to hear your conversation. "sigewinne, i trust you'll help our guest with whatever they need? i'll take my leave now if there's nothing else you need."

you nod at his words, cheeks still feeling abnormally warm as you walk past him and enter the infirmary. your hand comes up to squeeze his arm in passing, and now it's wriothesley who finds himself with a faint blush tinting his cheeks. "thank you for your hospitality, wriothesley. it was a pleasure getting to interview you."

"trust me, the pleasure was all mine."

sigewinne resists the urge to turn around and give wriothesley a knowing look.

"so? how did it go? did you manage to get on his good side?" charlotte asks, her eyes sparkling with excitement even as she lays under a large pile of blankets. you barely have one foot in the door before she begins to interrogate you, and you laugh lightly as you approach her bed.

"i think so," you murmur in response, reaching out to feel her forehead and humming in delight when you notice her skin feels cooler to the touch. "your fever has broken."

"yay!" she giggles, wiggling underneath the blankets as she takes the glass of water you offer her. there's a moment of silence as she drinks, and you take the time to organize her notebook and neatly place your rewritten notes within the pages. you're so engrossed in your actions that you almost miss charlotte's next question. "but what do you mean by 'i think so'?"

"you tell me," you answer slyly, holding out the leather notebook. charlotte takes it from you eagerly, skimming through the pages and reading your notes. her jaw drops when she sees which questions had been answered, and she wastes no time before fixing you with a bewildered stare.

"he answered one of the questions on the 'do not ask' list?" she nearly shrieks, kicking her feet underneath her blanket in excitement. "i would've added a few more questions if i knew he'd be so willing to share!"

"i'm sure he wouldn't mind being asked a few more questions if they aren't too personal or invasive," you respond breezily, trying to make your next words seem casual. "maybe i could take some time and ask him the next time we meet for tea."

you easily take the glass from charlotte's bedside table, moving over to the carafe you had left on her dresser and refilling the cup. when you turn back around, you're met with an expression of exaggerated shock.

"what!" she hisses, hands tightening considerably around the notebook. you fight back a smile when she flings it to the side, motioning you towards her and waving away the glass of water. "what does that mean?"

"i may or may not have a date with wriothesley sometimes next week," you admit, smiling bashfully before turning and rummaging through your bag. "oh! before i forget, here's your kamera. i wanna get your opinion on the pictures i took."

"forget the pictures!" she exclaims, tossing the kamera onto the pillow next to her. "you have a date?"

"yes, a date," you confirm nodding and breaking out into giggles at the same time as charlotte. the two of you gasp for air as you finally settle down, and you find charlotte giving you an impish look. when you raise an eyebrow in question, she simply dissolves into giggles once more.

"a date! wow, who knew i was such a great matchmaker!"

ty for reading!! reblogs are appreciated <3

#wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley x you #genshin x you #wriothesley fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #wriothesley imagine #genshin imagine

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fev3rish · 3 months

Note

so um, can we get some kenji Sato x Baseball reader? something like enemies to lovers, where Kenji is jealous of the reader for being one of the best baseball players in the women's league in Japan? to the point where some people say the reader is better than Kenji at the game? (or something like that idk loll) (I'm NOT good at english, I'm sorry if there are any mistakes or something like that)

PUZZLE PIECES. kenji sato x reader

you truly held no ill intent—you just couldn’t stand him sometimes—and maybe there was potential between the two of you. not chemistry. potential. potential to be friends. not anything else. you wouldn’t mind if anything else came to be, though.

cw. i decided to combine these two requests because it would be easy to fit them into a story. rivals -> friends -> lovers, reader is shown to be kind of nonchalant, drunk confession, frequent and unpredictable perspective switches, gn!reader, reader’s ex is desperate, kenji and reader banter for half the story. if i wrote it in full, it would be too long to share to tumblr but too targetted to share anywhere else, so it’s only 4.5k words, weird pacing of the story, there are sprinkles and references to my previous drabbles with kenji, all around a rollercoaster, i wrote this in a day so i apologize if it’s wonky as hell, unproofreaded, lowercase intended, rivalry is kind of one sided because reader is written to have a sort of muted admiration of kenji

notes. i’m not as confident with this story as i am for my other ones :( i usually write mini fics, but this is a full fledged one shot and i am very critical of my one shots. i hope i don’t disappoint ! thank you all for enjoying my work :)

you remember him more than anyone. kenji sato, baseball star, highschool heartthrob with a heart of stone. you remember how arrogant he was too. you hate to admit it, but you understood why. you wanted to be as skilled as he was, and he didn’t believe you could be anything else but a water runner—something he said. to your face, too. you didn’t find it in yourself to hate him, infact—you were his biggest admirer then.

even now, you are. just subtly. he is the first name that comes up on your feed, and the last thought that leaves your mind when you finally go to bed. you smile, lazily, as you scroll through your phone and see his latest win. you want to dislike him, but you can’t; so you pretend. you filter it. it’s an act that comes down whenever you are in the comfort of your own home; where you can freely adore him.

he’s still so fucking cool.

kenji sunk into his beloved couch, exhausted after yet another game. he threw his head back, staring at the ceiling, relishing in the afterglow of victory. “hey mina!” he called, a cocky grin on his face as the a.i. assistant glided over to him. “yes ken?” she asks, knowing that he’s probably up to something but giving in anyway. “who can outmatch the greatest living player?!” he boomed, his voice bouncing off the walls as he flat-out refused to get off his high.

mina, tonight, decided to have fun. so, with a quick skim of the internet, and a particularly informative article—she pulled up a face on a projected screen, and replied with an answer he didn’t expect. a name. kenji’s smile left as quick as the light in his eyes did. “what? no way!” he laughed it off, but the faraway look in his eye said it all. it got under his skin. what did you have that he didn’t? that made you better than him? what was your batting average? how many stolen bases did you have? how can he schedule a ‘friendly’ game between your team and his?

how can he win?

“no way, mina.” he scoffed, trying to collect himself—the afterglow leaving him for a dullness he couldn’t explain. “there’s no way i just won one of the biggest games of my life and they’re just there, and the public’s eating them all up and calling them better of a player than i am. what makes them a better player than me?” his arrogant rambling leaves a bitter taste in his mouth—and kenji steps back a bit, actually recollecting himself because he knows better than this. he knows better than to let his emotions get in the way; atleast now. mina’s spinning around in circles, the bot observing kenji’s improvement. if she could, she’d smile. but she can’t, so she speaks to him as if she were smiling. “they cooperate well with their teammates.” she states, simply.

kenji pulls at his hair.

you stare in utter disbelief as the crowd cheers your name, wondering how exactly you got this far. you couldn’t even hold a bat properly once, and now, a couple years later, you run the bases after yet another home run. you’ve been carrying your team, but they’ve been the ones ordering you around because if you’re being honest, you genuinely have no idea what you’re doing. what are you even doing? how have you gotten this far? well, you know the answer—amazing teammates, good eye-to-hand coordination, and most importantly, luck.

kenji sits in the stands, mouth parted as he watches you run. you improved, he can tell, and he hates that he’s proud. the only luck he’s been given is that he’s disguised. his sunglasses don’t show his disdain (is it truly disdain? he wants it to be. he ignores that he’s amazed.) and his facemask, in response to how gagged he was, just wrinkled a bit. “you’re shitting me…” he thinks aloud, watching as you celebrated with your team; another win to cross off.

he tries to leave discreetly, he really does—but you make eye contact with him. he goes rigid. you walk over, bidding farewell to the rest of your group as you approach him. you look up at kenji, and something in you just knows. but you want to pretend, you have to pretend; and it wasn’t your fault if you wanted to have a little fun, too. you put up a sweet, sweet smile—

“are you a fan?” you ask, “would you like my autograph?” you ask again, and he sucks in a breath. no one is here, not anyone that matters atleast— everyone’s skittering out of the dome and suddenly kenji is, too. he wants to walk pass you, but in fairness, he was provoked first. “no, actually.” he replies, coolly, and there’s this glint in your eye that has maggots forming in kenji’s stomach, eating away at his insides—or perhaps, they’re butterflies. kenji doesn’t want to think about it. he just wants to think about you. “you win a couple games and suddenly you think you’re the star of the show?” he tilts his head, walking closer to you. his sunglasses are taken off, and now he’s really looking down on you. you, who only shrugs. “i mean, maybe.” you say. “i definitely outshine you though, don’t i?” you retort and he hisses. the scene is reminiscent of two cats, circling eachother as they bare their fangs. “wow, and here i was,” kenji dramatically began, “about to apologize to you for all that shit in highschool!” he continued, and he was about to open his mouth again before you intervened. “oh, you mean where you peaked?”

“excuse me?” said through grit teeth. “highschool?” you chirped, “where you peaked?” “oh, excuse me.” he gasped, taken aback. you snickered, and he sneered. “you’re the worst.“ he leaned in close, eager to get that through your head—eager to get under your skin as much as you got under his, but you only blinked up at him with a slight blush on your face.

“are we about to kiss right now?” you raise an eyebrow promiscuously, and kenji almost claws at you before he clasps his hand together. he stays like that. you take a second to realize he’s doing breathing exercises. “why the fuck is he doing breathing exercises?”

it slips out. it genuinely, truthfully just slips out—you think out loud and kenji sato, the man of japan himself, literally goes red in the face. he turns to you, then turns around and walks away.

even when he’s all red and embarrassed, he is still so freakishly cool.

it seems all kenji wants to do is one up you, and all you really want to do is go to dinner with him. it’s embarrassing, the hardened glare he sends you when he sees you in the stands, ready to watch his games. you want him so bad and he thinks you take joy in his displeasure, and you know that this is such a stupid misunderstanding but it’s… well, it’s fun. and you haven’t had any opportunities to even try and talk to him, because he always gives you sass. how could a man have that much sass? even you don’t know, and you like to think you know everything. you know that kenji’s cute as hell, and that you want him really bad, and that’s all that you need to know. ever.

meanwhile, kenji is irritated at the mention of you—and he makes it known with a scrunch of his nose and a frown on his lips. when you walk into the room, he rolls his eyes. when you run your hands through your hair, you swear you see his gaze linger but you don’t know if it’s truly a gaze, or a glare. you want to speak to him, but with the way he holds his bat like it’s a weapon around you makes it seem like he wants to spar. you do not want to spar. it’s the same as always, today—another game won by the giants, another game you attended, and another game kenji had a harder time locking in on.

you try and try and you keep on trying—actually, you don’t plan on stopping. kenji sees you as an enemy, but all you see in him is a potential husband. he can’t be that bad, right? not as bad as your last one. no one can be as bad as your last one, and it irks you just thinking about him. you don’t even want to call him an ex of yours, because he was never truly yours in the first place.

no, he wasn’t. four months down the drain just like that, because he couldn’t keep it in his pants when a pretty girl asked him to dance.

what a shame.

you had a visceral reaction to your own mind, and your face soured before you even felt it. kenji saw that, and his eyes darkened. “you have a problem with how i play today?” he was up in your face before you knew, his face as sour as yours. you jump back. “why do you care if i do?” you bring up, “you wanna impress me?”

“to hell with impressing you.” “to hell with you.” “oh, you’re the worst.” “is that all you can say?” “if i said all i could, you’d sue me.” “no, i wouldn’t care enough. my parents raised me better.” “so did mine.”

you bite your tongue, then. you’re silent as he looks at you, and under his scrutiny, you shrink. the smirk on his face is smug and insufferable, as expected of someone so hellbent on one upping you.

“hey now, why so quiet?” there he is again, getting all up in your face and rubbing his seven seconds of victory to you. “cat got your tongue?”

“precisely. that’s the first thing we’ve agreed on.” “no, it isn’t.” “yes, it is.” “no, it isn’t.” “no, it isn’t.” “yes it is—hey!” kenji caught himself, or tried to, but it was already way too late. “hah! you’re a complete ditz—“ you exclaimed, before kenji shushed you with a light punch.

“i’ll have you know that we have an exhibition game tomorrow and i plan on destroying you.” he talks big, but the chances of him serving up a win is small. you have to thank kenji for making you more confident in your skills, because of just how butthurt he is over you. he’s waited long for this moment; to finally be able to face off against you—show the people who the top dog truly is—and now he has it.

and he won’t disappoint.

the game ended abruptly due to a kaiju targetting the dome it was set in, and you couldn’t help but notice kenji’s panic in the corner of your eye. you couldn’t blame him, you were scared out of your mind too—but then he didn’t run towards the exit, he ran towards you. “watch out!” he called, and you looked up and froze.

debris was coming down on you, and fast.

when you looked down in a panic, trying to see where to go—ken was no where to be found, and from behind you, the famous ultraman made his appearance. he greeted you, albeit a bit… sassy. a familiar kind, one that you seemed to recognize—you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

“bro, can you get moving—i mean— cease this.. dawdling! faithful citizen, leave at once or you might get hurt!” he boomed, his voice echoing the same way a certain other person’s did. he held the debris that was going to crush you in a single hand, and you could only gawk.

who were you to deny ultraman?

after that encounter, you didn’t see each other for a while. it admittedly made you a bit sad, you truly held no ill intent—you just couldn’t stand him sometimes— and maybe there was potential between the two of you. not chemistry. potential. potential to be friends. not anything else.

you wouldn’t mind if anything else came to be, though.

tonight, you had decided to treat yourself; a night at tonkatsu tonki would do for sure. you placed an order and sat tight, bundled up in one of the comfy booths in the corner as you scrolled through your phone. it did do, so far! you felt your muscles loosen and your jaw unclench with each smile sent your way. for once, you felt yourself relax—then you heard someone call out your name. someone you couldn’t forget. not yet, atleast—the wound was still healing. you refused to pick at it even further. you looked up and—“oh fuck.”

“what are you doing here?” your most recent mistake asks. he tries to get close to you, to sit in your booth and disturb your peace—but you stand up before he does. “why do you care?”

“because this was our spot.” he replies, “we came here for our three month anniversar—“ he tries to continue but you’re so tired. you stop him with a raise of your hand, “this was not where we went. you’d have known if you paid attention to me while we were together.” your response is curt, and you see hurt flash in his eyes—similar to the way it flashed in yours whenever he pulled the same bullshit he promised not to pull. “listen, i’m sorry—“ you ignore him the same way he did when you tried to speak. you turn, going back to your booth but he pulls you by the wrist and you realize that he doesn’t want to say sorry.

rather, he wants to show he’s sorry. or maybe that’s not the case either—maybe he wants to make you sorry.

regardless, you yank your hand away and stomp on his foot—he curses. you’re lucky the restaurant’s nearing closing time, otherwise you’d have more of an audience and therefore more of a PR nightmare. he raises his hand, and you raise your own to block what you know will be a hit—but nothing comes. well, no one except kenji. he has his hand on your ex’s wrist, as he squeezes it tight—enough to bruise.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” his face is scrunched up in anger, and you sigh in relief. “none of your fucking business.” your ex replies—he tries to act tough, but his voice cracks and you know he’s scared. kenji takes the chance to get a good look at him, and he cracks up. “you… you play for the tigers, don’t you? we decimated you. had your team’s heads on the ground from how embarrassed they were last time we played; you wanna take another defeat?” he snickers. your mouth drops in awe of the sudden juicy drama unfolding, and also partially because kenji is really, really handsome.

the restaurant’s emptied out by now, and you three are only accompanied by the employees—who are reluctantly waiting for the two men to settle their little scuffle. you watch as your ex tries to struggle against him, tries to run off, and the only thought in your mind is: what did i ever see in him?

“let me go!” he yells, “let them go, first.”

your ex looks between him and you, who only calls a waiter over to order a drink. two drinks, to be exact. he stomps out of the restaurant right after. kenji is about to leave, as well, but tonkatsu tonki closes in thirty minutes—and you have a drink and a free seat. he can’t resist. he slides into your booth with an undeniable swagger, relishing in yet another victory as you smile kindly. “you didn’t have to do all that.” you start, sheepishly—he just takes a sip of the drink you ordered him. “yeah, well, i did. what about it?” you raise your hands in mock surrender, and he lets out a lighthearted laugh. “thank you, then. thank you for doing all that.”

“don’t get used to it.” he points, and this time—you laugh. you ask him about his day, and suddenly thirty minutes feels like forever. by the time you two get kicked out of the restaurant, he has your number unblocked and a promise to be annoyed every single day that a part of him hopes you’ll keep.

there was a spark, then, and it lit up so evidently between the two of you. a piece of eachother, found in each other. it was an epiphany to kenji, and an honor for you. you fit together like puzzle pieces, and yet you didn’t even realize it because you were both so intent on making the wrong parts of yourself fit, when they didn’t.

eventually, unblocked numbers turned to frequent messages, and frequent messages turned to inside jokes—inside jokes became personal hangouts. kenji sato found himself a part of your life, and he ended up loving it. your bickering became friendly, and lighthearted bullying was always a welcome notion— he made it a point to beat your ass at baseball as often as he could, but he always took you out to drink, on him. if he won. if he didn’t, you’d be the one treating him. it was a win-win situation for the both of you, even though one of you lost.

eventually, feelings blossomed.

kenji’s smiles made you smile, and he started buying things because those things reminded him of you; his heart beat a little faster as you walked over to greet him, and your cheeks burned whenever he winked at the screen during games. eventually, that friendly banter became more… flirty. you were toeing the line between friends and lovers.

you loved it.

kenji snaked an arm around your shoulder as you sat, thigh pressed against thigh, your head leaning on his bicep. you were at another bar, and ken was in another world. it was no surprise to you that he was a light weight, and with several swigs of his second bottle—he had been reduced to a blabbing baby of a man. a blabbing baby of a man who was getting suspiciously close to you—too close to just be platonic affection. you wonder if he’ll remember this the next day. you hope he doesn’t, with all the nonsense he’s spouting about being ultraman and how saving the city from kaiju is his ultimate duty. it’s going to be embarrassing, especially since it’s in such a public setting.

you take an uber to your house; he’ll have to deal with it if he wants to save his career after all. it’s a complete pain in the ass to haul his ass to the cab, but the way his hair frames his face just right—reddened face still handsome as he glances down at you, you just accept that some men are born as apologies for the existence of the entire male gender.

the entire car ride is full of the uber driver trying not to laugh as you struggle against kenji, who wants to sleep on your lap but can’t because the car is too small. the driver bursts into laughter as kenji starts crying, and you pull out your phone.

it can not be this hard to take care of a drunk man.

kenji is laying on the cold tile of your floor, tapping at the air because he thinks it’s an ipad and you have to resist the urge to just leave him to his own devices. you know damn well he won’t let you, anyway. he’s had his hand wrapped around your ankle for the past two minutes. “kenji.” you start, “let go.”

“erm… no.” “kenji.” “i love it when you say my name.” he says, amidst an abundance of giggles. you’re being pulled down onto the floor with him, and there’s remnants of that one strawberry cocktail he had before shit really hit the fan in his breath. “say my name again.” he asks, and you say it again—not knowing it’ll unleash a conversation you never knew you wanted—needed—to have.

“kenji.” you say his name again, for the third time, your face heating up as he buries his face into your stomach, inhaling your scent. “you’re perfect.” he says, slurring over his words and you freeze. “didn’t know that was something you’d ever say to me. usually, you’d be focused on strategizing how to keep beating me at baseball.” you mutter, softly—and a part of you finds humor in the situation. you want to, atleast. you find no humor, but you do find hope—for what, you don’t know.

“i find myself focusing on you more, hehe—“ you bite your lip. you muffle out his laughs. he’s just drunk. “you know, i’m better than him.” he’s just drunk. “i don’t see why you haven’t just thrown me over your shoulder yet,” he pauses, to let out yet another intoxicated laugh. “if you gave me a chance, i’d prove it too.” he hiccups.

you’re on your tiled floor, laying down with a six foot tall man and he’s confessing his love to you in drunk rambles. he’s promising he’s better than all your exes. he would be.

how did you get here again? why don’t you want to leave?

“bro, i want you so bad….”

ah, that’s why. you turn to face him, and he’s already looking at you. his eyes are glazed over with love so strong you know he’s been hiding it for too long, and you decide maybe it won’t be too bad just laying here. “…how long?” you inquire. his eyes sparkle, “since you ordered me that drink at tonkatsu tonki.”

“that’s a long time.” “i have a hard time communicating how much i truly value a person.” “i can see that.” “i can see you.” “and what do you think?” your lip quirks up, and he grins. “you’re perfect.” his hands find themselves on your waist, and you want to pull back—but he pulls you in faster, not into a kiss, but into a hug. “i’d treat you so good.” he starts again. “better than any one of your miserable exes. i’d take you out on dates weekly, and we’d have movie nights bi weekly where we interchange who picks the movies, and when we go to the bar together, i’ll show you off. when i win my games, i’ll point at you.” he babbles, and you look up at him as you listen to him promise a string of temptations you can’t help but give in to. “i’d treat you so, so good. make you come over, and then come over and ov—“

“okay, i get it.” “can i get you, then?” “maybe, when you’re not drunk.” “i’m not drunk. my name is kenji.” “okay kenji.” “my last name is sato. can you get that too?” “when you’re not drunk, kenji.” “no, it’s just kenji. not drunk kenji.” “do you want to sleep here or in the guest bedroom?” you deadpan. he blinks. “here. it’s comfier.” “okay, goodnight—“ “stay with me. just this once.”

you want to reject him, but you also don’t want to. so you cave, again, to his charms. he holds you so gently, cradling the back of your head with his palm as you listen to him babble. he seems to never stop professing his love for you, and you, lowkey, aren’t complaining. you deal with his blabber until he blacks out, and you look around to see if kenji has all he needs when he wakes up. it’s a chaotic situation, and you’re seconds away from going out of your mind—but you look around as if you’re looking around a baseball field. a glass of water and the bottle of tylenol is in arms reach, his things are on the couch, and you are in his arms.

you don’t want to leave, and it makes you sick.

you wake up and you’re faced with the bare wall and raging back pain. you groan, your eyes scanning the room—kenji isn’t here anymore. you make a mental note to check your phone, later. maybe he texted. you stand up and stretch, and before you can recover, a pair of hands poke your sides. you jump away, shrieking as you’re met with a kenji who’s as equal of a mess as you are. his eyes are framed by dark circles, and his hair isn’t as immaculate as it usually is—it’s the most attractive state you’ve ever seen him in.

“hi.” is all he says, and you take deep breaths. “you’re fucking crazy.” you say, “crazy over you.”

he remembers. your eyes bulge out of your own skull, threatening to fall out at any second, and you hold onto the wall for support as you try to keep it cool. “what—what.” well played. super smooth. the swagger is evident. what time is it? it’s only eleven am and you’re humiliating yourself. you’re dazed as kenji walks over to you, his eyes never once leaving yours—you want to look down, but you can’t stop looking at him. “so…” you start, but he doesn’t let you finish. not yet, atleast. he’s always been fond of edging. he liked the control, and being controlled— “so?”

“you remember.” you gulp. “i do, yeah.” “okay, well.. what do you think?”

“i think you’re perfect.” he bites the inside of his cheek, “—and i think i could treat you better than him.”

your whole world shakes. your heart’s beating and it bruises your ribs, and that would be enough of a confession—but he continues.

“and i truly don’t see why you haven’t thrown me over your shoulder yet, because i could prove it too.” he’s restating every point he made last night and it’s killing you. your silence only makes him want to continue. “i’ll treat you so good. movies, money, gifts, dates—anything you want as long as it’s you. i’ll treat you better than any one of your miserable exes.” when he smirks, you notice that one side of his lip quirks up higher than the other; a flaw, but one he let you see. no one’s gotten this close, after all. only you.

“that is, if you’ll give me a chance.” his confidence wavers, but the sparkle in his eyes gives you all the convincing you need. “you didn’t need to do all that.” you start, the familiar words rolling off your tongue easily. his smirk becomes a smile. “yeah, well, i did. what about it?”

it’s an unspoken truth that the both of you know. he holds out his hand, and you place your smaller one on top—he inches it closer to his lips, and kisses each knuckle.

he’s all yours.

“you took a long ass time trying to confess. and you didn’t even do it sober.” you call out, and kenji cringes at his own cowardice but he defends himself anyway. “hey! i re-confessed now!”

“re-confess? what?” “i just redid my confession.” “more like re-use—“ “can i kiss you now?”

the question is so sudden, you place your free hand on your chest as you gasp. kenji cringes, again, at how direct he was—he opens his mouth to apologize, but he barely gets a word in.

when your lips find eachother, they fit together like puzzle pieces.

#kenji sato x reader #ken sato x reader #kenji sato #ken sato #ultraman #ultraman rising #ultraman 2024 #ultraman rising x reader #ultraman kenji sato

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ryomens-vixen · 1 year

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GrievingSukuna! HEADCANONS

Summary: You passed away from an incurable illness that plagued you almost your entire life, and even as his favorite concubine, his most cherished, hell his only one left since he had disposed of the rest. The one thing he liked, that her genuinely cherished was now withering away in his arms.

⚠Warning⚠ Minors dni, mentions of death, Sadness, idk what else to put.

GrievingSukuna! Who has never once said "I love you" to anyone not even you. The thought of those words ever leaving his lips made him want to gag except right those words meant everything.

GrievingSukuna! Who listened to your frail voice reassure him that your time spent with him was a joyous one, and that your were just another concubine, that he shouldn't mourn the life of someone who was merely brought to his temple over a year ago for his enjoyment alone.

GrievingSukuna! Who silenced you with the most tender, loving, heart stopping kiss to ever grace your soft yet dry lips as he just could not bare to hear another word. You chipped away of his walls, held his cold heart in your warm hand, and yet you had the nerve to utter nonsense? You had become his pride, the air he breathes, almost his wife, and possibly the barrer of his supposed heir.

GrievingSukuna! Who listened to you final goodbye to him after one last kiss to which he finally spoke those three words...

"Oh, Lord Ryomen, Serving you was..was the best thing that life could have ever given me. Every moment I spent serving you.. I spent without regret, my only regret now is being too weak to serve you any longer. What kind of concubine am I? Heh, forgive me..please forgive me, I- I-..."

You had spent all your energy speaking this blasphemy to him. If he could he would have scolded you right then and there, but there was no time that. All he could was catch your fallen hand that reached for him in an attempt to hold him one more time. You didn't have enough energy left to finish your sentence yet he finished it for you in those last moments he uttered for the first and final time.

"I Love You, (Y/N)... You foolish woman."

He said it, he finally said it, those words from him you would carry into the afterlife with you, A tear fell from your beautiful (E/C) eyes. But these words were only meant for your ears, not even his servant that stood outside his chambers could hear him whispering those three words into your delicate ears.

GrievingSukuna! Who's world came crashing down once your chest rose and fell taking your last breath. Oh the heinous things he would do, the sacrifices he would make, the blood he would give to just hear your sweet voice once more. This hurt him, this pain.. It petrified him, it was like no pain he had ever felt before.

GrievingSukuna! Who after hours of holding your cold corpse, finally allowed his servents to come in and ready you for burial. His face was unreadable to them, but on the inside he was ready to explode with rage, he was ready to curse the heavens and hell for taking what was his away.

GrievingSukuna! Who stayed locked away in his chambers for the next few days leading up to your burial. Oh how you wounded him worse than any man or woman ever could. This wound wasn't something he could just easily no, no, this wound would forever be etched into his mind, body, and soul for as long as he lived.

GrievingSukuna! Who's face remained unreadable during the ceremony, you had no family to join him, just his loyal servents who had grew quite fond of you once upon a time.

GrievingSukuna! Who quickly storm away once your casket was lowered into the ground, he felt his eyes were burning... What was this? Tears!? Never in the beginning of time would Sukuna ever shed a pathetic tear, but he heart could not deny the human emotions that came with once being human. He wouldn't dare let anyone see such an ugly sight, him experiencing sadness.

GrievingSukuna! Who's sadness was quickly replaced with pure, unadulterated rage, every village in 100...No a thousand mile radius was fucked. If he couldn't have the one thing he cherished more than anything in the world then why should everyone else?

GrievingSukuna! Who would go days without returning to his temple until he's had his fill of bloodshed, maybe this was his new found way of coping with the loss of his concubine?

GrievingSukuna! After days of slaughter he would return home to your grave absolutely drenched from head to toe in the blood of the innocent and lay at your grave.

GrievingSukuna! Who would stay at you grave for hours, cursing you to the heavens for leaving him in disarray, for not ripping his heart out his chest to take with you so he wouldn't have to FEEL this pain any longer.

GrievingSukuna! Who would soon slaughter all that were loyal to him as he would rather live in solitude, then to be reminded that he has no one to share the servitude of his people with. Sukuna would rather be alone than to enjoy the finer things without you by his side.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #jjk fanfic #jjk drabbles #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #sukuna angst

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princesssmars · 5 months

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i'd love just about anyone, so why was it you?

a victoria neuman x reader

your talent for singing is finally starting to take you places in the city of lights. so why did it have to introduce you to a woman who might ruin it all?

wc : 10.248

contains : fxf relationship. readers hair and skin aren't described. fluff. angst.nsfw including sex and language. the french. barely proof-read.

a/n : i cant believe there are no fics for this fine ass woman yet but i am nothing but a pioneer idk. in my daydreams this was like mafia au victoria but i literally never write or dream of those so i opted out lmao. go watch gen v. everyone always talks about how good the cover is but nonante-cinq by angele is a beautiful album so i recommend listening to that for french vibes. enjoy <3

it was the most stereotypical and overplayed song ever, but damn did you love la vie en rose.

just the concept of the song was romantic to you. to live every day like it would be magnificent, like you could know a day would be your last and look back at it and not regret a single thing. it meant looking at the world with a positivity that these days was mostly faked or artificial.

after the life you've lived, the things you've seen firsthand, you need that positive light in your life more than anything else. especially right now, as your manager is hounding you over the phone about your next gig.

now you loved your manager, nancy, you really did. she took you in and was honest when no one else would be, stood by you when no one else wanted to give you a real chance. but sometimes it felt like she didn't really believe in you. obviously, she believed you had talent, or else she would have 'left you in the dust for the rats to pick apart,' in her own words. it was almost like she couldn't fathom that what you had was real, like you didn't truly deserve all the things that were coming to you.

but as long as you were paying her, she didn't bother to speak up on it.

you were listening to her drone on and on into the speaker from your phone, holding the object up to your ear with one hand as you hold a menu to order something from the cafe waitress who's waiting beside you.

"ill have an uhhhh... le marie antoinette, and a coffee with sugar and cream please," you hand the menu to the waitress after she writes down your order, heading back into the cafe with a smile. this cafe was one of your favorites, nestled below an apartment building in one of the inner city arrondissements so you could sit outside beneath an umbrella and admire the city before you. "nancy, i don't see why i can't just...politely turn it down? it sounds like it's a glorified pin-up girl gig, le bellevilloise is offering for me to sing there exclusively for three months-"

"no, that's what im trying to tell you if you'd let me finish." you can hear nancy's telltale sigh through the phone. she had a short temper when she was stressed, something you sadly had in common, and you could hear her clicking a pen through the receiver. "this is an international gala slash fundraiser, attended by the one percent of the one percent. billionaires, senators, diplomats, everything. the event organizer asked for you specifically, so turning it down is a bad look. aka, you're doing it. go out and get a pretty dress. ill send you more details later."

the phone shut off and you let out a huff of air, crossing your right leg over your left beneath the table. once you have your meal and bite into your pastry you can't help but close your eyes at how good it tastes; the combination of the crunch of the macarons, the near-overwhelming sweetness of the cream, and the savory juice that leaks from the raspberries never gets old.

you don't know how you feel about this whole gala thing. sure its a great way to make connections and earn a fat stack of cash that will probably last you few weeks, but you've learned before that the people that you most admire, celebrities, politicians, even superheroes, can't be trusted. and being in a room full of them to perform wasn't at the top of your christmas wish list.

but like everyone else in the world, you were finding money hard to pass up on. just by the lowball nancy told you, you'd be able to comfortably pay the next month's rent and fix up your electric scooter, maybe even enough to save up for that beautiful flat you saw online with the grand windows and nice floor plan.

it'd only be a few hours of singing and kissing up to a bunch of snobs and you'd be done. easy peasy.

finding a dress wasn't to hard. your modeling connections from before you started to focus on singing gave you access to a few, good quality clearance pieces for your picking. you figure that the people you were performing for would prefer something classy and elegant, so you picked out a sleeveless black dress with black opera gloves, accessorized by a diamond necklace and earrings. one of your stylist friends, alex, who you asked to help do up your hair told you 'you're definitely gonna shag a rich man looking like this, just ask them if they have any friends for me!' and after a quick 'please don't wish that upon me' and a spritz of perfume you were ready.

the hours before you got on stage were nothing short of both nerve-racking but exhilarating. you rode in a standard taxi, your slight jitters noticed by the slightly balding man in the front. he eyes you pretty oddly when you got in the car before using you if you were a model, telling you that his daughter would like an autograph if you were. you felt slightly flustered when you had to tell him you weren't, but gave him some tips to tell his daughter if she wanted to pursue it. after around twenty minutes of driving through the city the car stops and you're escorted by a crew member into a grand building, those types you pass by and dream of getting the chance just to step into.

after that its a rush of meeting the event planner who gives you another run down of the evening and then meeting with the band members, a nice group of jazz players who you had heard about on the news for their blends of old and new methods of performing music. they played you a piece on their instruments in their dressing room, and it felt like hanging out with old friends listening to tunes as one twirled you around and the others laughed and the air felt warm and fuzzy.

later its time for your set, where you'll sing as the guests come in and take occasional breaks to save your breath and let whoever is hosting this talk. so you get up on your mini stage, make sure you look alright and you're in tune with the band, and then you do what you do best.

you've never felt better than how you do while you sing. every time you do so you tell a story, tales of success and tragedy and love and heartache. while you sing your favorite thing to do is to admire the crowd. when you were younger it gave you horrible stage fright, but as you grew up and saw just how much people loved your voice it made you confident, if not the tiniest bit narcissistic.

as you look out at the guests of tonight you see what's expected. important and powerful men donned in suits, their wives standing on their arms in glamourous gowns, you swear that you even see some fairly famous celebs in the mix, and they were all listening intently to you and your voice.

and that's when you saw her. near the back of the room with a glass of red wine in her hand, dark hair flowing over her shoulders, and darker eyes trained on you. in this profession you get used to people staring at you for hours on end, but something about this woman unnerves you slightly.

a short while later your set is over and after a round of applause the organizer tells you to enjoy yourselves, and that you're free to indulge in whatever food is left. after a brief touch-up in the dressing room and making sure you look presentable, you head out to get yourself something to eat. you keep getting stopped by people telling you how beautiful your performance was, how they'd love to get in contact with your agent to book you for future events, and your regular dose of creepy old guys hitting on you. but besides that things were going pretty well.

some servers were waking around with trays of champagne, but you figured since everything was complimentary you would treat yourself to something stronger. you head to the bar and order yourself a strong cocktail, and as soon as you finish your order a figure sits on the stool next to yours.

"get me a scotch on the rocks, thanks."

you glance at them from the corner of your eye and feel your heart beat faster when you see

it's the woman from before. from this close distance, you can admire her entirely, and god is she gorgeous. she looks so put together, not a hair out of place, and wearing a perfectly tailored suit that makes you guess she's some kind of wealthy businesswoman.

after not so secretly checking her out, she turns her body towards you and looks at you with a smile.

"im sure you already know, but you have an enchanting voice."

you look down bashfully, thinking the same about her. she speaks like she's so sure of what she's saying like there's no room for debate or argument.

"thank you. no matter if i know or not, it doesn't take much to make me a little nervous every time i perform."

the bartender brings over both of your drinks and she tilts hers to you.

"trust me, theres no need. you're nothing but a natural, one of the best singers i've ever heard."

"ah, now you're exaggerating. is there a reason you're complimenting me like you're being paid to do so?"

she shakes her head, setting down her glass of liquor with a clink. "not anything nefarious, if that's what you're thinking. just glad i get to talk to a beautifully talented woman."

jeez, she was laying it on thick. normally this was coming from some fifty-year-old man with greasy skin and weird teeth, but it felt nice coming from her. she was obviously gorgeous, leaving her body language open in case you wanted to decline and she would walk away in a moment's notice.

"im glad i get to talk to you too, miss?"

"victoria. its a pleasure to talk to you, miss y/n."

for around an hour or two the both of you sat at that bar, blocking out the fake laughs of investors and boisterous noises of people who got a little too friendly with the free champagne. she was so attentive to you. asking about what got you into singing and what brought you to paris by your non-native accent. you normally kept the finer details of your past a close-guarded secret, but you figured there couldn't come any harm from telling this attractive stranger a few things about yourself before never seeing her again.

"you're telling me at only sixteen years old, you flew to paris by yourself and made a living for yourself? you've got balls on you, sister."

"yeah yeah, but im nothing special. i just got tired of all the bullshit in the u.s., y'know? the greed, the cynicism, the-"

"superhero bullshit?"

you giggled while she smirked, observing your smile and how it made your eyes squinch.

"well i wouldn't put it like that but...superheros? really? its just, they make it so american, in a really really annoying way. i just couldn't deal with that being a reality. and where better than paris? it seems like voughts all but forgotten about it recently, thank god.”

"i understand. and i know we just met, but it does suit you. 'beautiful runaway finds passion, life, and love in the city of lights'. best cliche there is."

"and what a damn good cliche it is to be. although i haven't been that lucky on the love front."

her eyebrow raises and her nail traces around the rim of her glass.

"im sorry but i simply cant believe that. someone like you would have people lining up for a chance to talk to you, let alone date you."

you dryly chuckle before taking another long swig of your glass of champagne, dancing just on the edge of being intoxicated. you understood why everyone else was drinking this, it was sweet but strong.

"people have tried, of course. but sadly most of my escapades end in tragedy. very melodramatically. but enough about me, I'm guessing this isn't gonna go my way and you have someone waiting for you at home?"

"im offended you still think so low of me. but no, there was someone but it didn't work out. now its just me and my daughter."

god, she was a milf. if there was a god you prayed he would let you get lucky tonight.

"well, im sorry to hear it didnt work out."

"are you really?"

she looks at you with a smirk on her face.

"no, im not."

that was all she needed to ask you to come back with her to her hotel.

and not just any hotel, she was rich enough to be spending two weeks in the damn ritz. asking again what she did for a living didn't get you very far, the only hint you got being that it helped her change the world. ominous but whatever. it had to be legitimate if she was invited to that gala.

the cautious and common sense side of you is snuffed out for the night the moment she set her hand over the covered skin of your thigh in the car, the feeling of her hand on your lower back leading you through the pristine lobby of the hotel, that same hand helping you take off your dress and take you apart slowly over the rest of the night.

when you wake up the sun is peeking through the curtains, the softness of the sheets your laying on calling you back to sleep before you get up and look around.

you only got a few seconds to admire the room last night before victoria was on you, and now in the light of day you could truly take everything in. you find a note left by the woman, letting you know she had to leave temporarily for an important job thing and that she'd be back my lunch, inviting you to call up room service and enjoy the room intil then.

you were expecting for her to tell you to pack your shit up and go, so despite the oddness this was a nice surprise. besides, there was no way you were gonna pass up on ordering a five-star breakfast you didnt have to pay for.

after indulging in a meal brought by room service and finding ways to pass the time, you text your manager after she happily lets you know that your night was a success and that your payment should be cleared shortly. while you're in the middle of wondering if you should answer her query about the host wondering where you wandered off to last night, the sound of a door opening makes your head jerk towards the small entry area, victoria coming in through the doorway dressed in a tan suit and carrying a large black briefcase on her arm.

"ah, youre still here!,” she sets her bag on a glass table near the door and strides into the room, eyes connected with yours the whole time. you weren’t feeling nervous before, but under her gaze you wonder if maybe you should have taken that free meal along with some tiny soaps from the bathroom and headed back home.

“yeah, figured i’d stick around for whatever. besides, i had to stay and blame you for my manager thinking i got kidnapped.”

“i’ll make sure to apologize and send her an edible arrangement. besides, i hope to take up more of your time in the future.”

your eyes bulge so hard you’re sure you look like a moron. you cover it up by getting up to get yourself another cup of coffe from the tray the food came in on.

“well i should’ve guessed this was more than a one night stand when you allowed me to order up breakfast. but now i have to admit i’m slightly scared you’re actually plotting to traffick me.”

"trust me, that wouldn't be good for business. id just like to see you some more, if that would be alright with you.

was that an actual question? after the night you had and the way she’s been treating you, you didn’t see much of a choice except to say yes.

she tells you that a few hours later she has a flight back to america, but that she wouldn't mind spending the day with you if you're free. you agree to get a little bite to eat and it turns into a whirlwind day of showing her around the city you call your home. she has to wear giant sunglasses the whole time and have a mysterious security detail not too far behind, but you wouldn't change anything about it.

at the end of it all, she bids you goodbye in front of your taxi, admiring the cute outfit she bought for you so you wouldn't have to go home in your dress from the night prior, promising that she'll keep in touch with you once she gets settled in back a new york, jokingly telling you she'll send you a postcard. as you sit in the back of the taxi, your heart inflates a little as you take in the events of the last day. you never liked to mix business with pleasure in this way, partly because most of those business people were gross perverts and also that it could damage your career beyond repair, but with victoria you can't help but think that it was worth it.

eventually, a few days pass by, and the only calls you've gotten are from friends congratulating on what they heard was another great performance. and as nice as all the praise and the new gigs you started to get felt, the longer you heard no word back from victoria, it started to eat away at you inside.

back at your favorite cafe you sit with two of your oldest friends, jamie and chloe, as they ramble about the details of their changing lives and jobs. you don't know when you zoned out but eventually, chloe's manicured finger lightly pokes at your cheek, giggling when you make a playful motion to bite it.

"where'd you go just now? take me with you before jamie keeps talking about his new lover."

"hey!" jamie pouts, "you're just jealous because i've been regularly having passionate sex allll night long while you're still vying over your boss." you hear a shocked gasp behind him and you all turn to see an elderly couple looking at jamie like he's said the most blasphemous thing they've ever heard.

"really classy, james." you snort.

"what the hell! you're supposed to be on my side! everyone has noticed how you've been in a better mood since that gala. alex told us how they checked up on you afterwise and you showed up a day later with a new outfit and a hickey on your neck."

"that is- god, that’s so intrusive and so like them,” you rolled your eyes. you knew as soon as alex saw you that morning that they’d be gossiping to everyone about the state they saw you in. “and i don’t kiss and tell like that. at least not in public like this.”

“ok, so we’ll stop by your place tonight with some wine and talk all about it tonight. agree?”

“what? no-”

“agree!” chloe beams and shakes hands with jamie across the table, blowing you kisses before leaving her share of the bill on the table and leaving with some excuse of having to be somewhere. you glare at jamie as a warning before he gives you a kiss on the cheek and does the same. you grumble before biting into your muffin.

a few hours later you’re sitting on your soft sofa with jamie’s head in your lap and chloe on the other side, talking and laughing about old stories from your jobs. you take a sip of merlot right before jamie brings up what you were hoping they’d forgotten about by now.

“ok ok, enough chatter. seriously, chlo, you cackle like a seagull. y/n, when are you going to tell us about this mystery lover of yours? do you need another glass of wine to start talking?”

“don’t even think about pouring me another glass. look, there’s not much to say, ok? i was singing, she was staring at me from across the bar, we flirted a little, that was it!”

they stared.

“you want more?”

“how could we not? we haven’t seen you like this with anyone! not since we took you on that tourist tour on the seine!”

that…that took you for a spin. you remembered it clear as day, them tugging you along when they’d heard since you came to paris you’d been focusing on building up your image and working. it was more a joke, but the lights of the boat, the sky and the lights made you feel like you were in the most perfect moment of your life. hearing them compare that to how you looked now had a nervous feeling building in your gut.

“we spent the night together. and it was…good. really good. she let me stay while she went out, bought me a new outfit then said she’d be in touch.”

your friends are silent. way too silent. you’re afraid they’re about to laugh and judge you before they’re squealing and tackling you, pulling back when you groan after you almost spill your wine on your clothes.

"god, why are you always the lucky one? this isn't fair! at all!" chloe groans while dramatically resting her head on your shoulder, jamie still giggling as the wine clearly starts to take an effect on him. "please, please tell us what happens next before i scream."

"no thats- i mean, thats it. so far. for now." you stutter along your words as your friends' faces go blank yet again, except this time without a hint of a chuckle or smile.

"what the hell do you mean 'that's it.'? she ghosted you?" jamie gasps.

"no, she didnt ghost me-"

"sweetheart, im sorry to say this but you have been ghosted. in a really dickhead way."

"its not like that! she's a busy person with a serious job and a kid and responsibilities!"

you briefly hear chloe snicker "milf?" before you roll your eyes.

"she's gonna contact me. and even if she doesn't, maybe it was just a nice one-time thing! everyone knows I'm great at those."

jamie snickers before chloe smacks his shoulder in a second.

"why? why did you laugh?"

they share a look before she smacks his shoulder again.

"would you stop? i have pains, you know this. but y/n, we know you. we love you. but your latest stints haven't been...the most successful. or left you in the best headspaces."

"he's right, honey. remember the last girl, hannah? one of the worst situationships i've ever seen. you told us you would be alright when she broke it off and then we found you at that lousy bar at eleven in the morning..."

you start biting at your lip. there was nothing you hated more than when they told you the truth about how you could act. it wasn't your fault that all the time your relationships got messy, or that you got attached a little quickly. people didn't understand but a life like yours could be lonely. standing up on a stage and performing for people who want you to do just that and only that: sing and look like a glamourous pin-up doll. most of the time its the other performers who even bother to ask if your throat is alright after singing for hours.

so yes, sometimes you rushed into relationships. and you might have done it again in the dumbest way possible.

"i just...she let me stay after, y'know? and she came back and brought me with her again. why go through that effort just to leave me behind like trash?" your friends pouted before closing in to comfort you, rubbing your back and giving you small affirmations.

for a month you go into a rut. unless it's performing or going to the dentist for a checkup you don't leave your house. you become pretty good acquaintances with the grocery delivery boy, benny, who started panicking when he realized he forgot one of your items until you assured him it was fine. it wasn't the first time you'd grown so oddly attached to a romantic prospect, and it wasn't the first time you'd gotten hurt by it. you spend your time moping on your couch and binge-watching your favorite show for the third time when your phone buzzes from beside you.

nancy schmancy : call me.

you rolled your eyes. she could have just called you in the first place, but no. she had to be extra about it. you press the call button and don't have to wait even five seconds for her voice to ring in your ear.

"do you want to know what mister barbier just emailed me?"

"i think you already have that answer for me."

"he said, and i quote, 'tell y/n i send my best wishes. her performance last night was hauntingly beautiful, and i'm hoping it was one of her greatest acts yet.'"

"if you ask me, it sounds like i did a pretty good job."

"it sounds like he thought you were singing your damn suicide note!" she groaned, and you could hear her face scrunching from over the phone. "i don't know what is going on with you recently, and i don't want to sound insensitive, but if you can't manage to keep your work and personal life separate, even i can't help you make it far in this business. clients may say they want you to be expressive but they only mean so far. unhappy music means unhappy customers, capeche?"

"i understand, nancy. ill send a personal apology to mister barbier."

"good. ill call you soon to let you know about any new gigs. take care of yourself. seriously."

the line clicks and you toss your phone onto the couch and take another sip of sauvignon blanc from your rose-shaped wine glass. it pained you to admit it, but nancy had a point. if you kept letting yourself mope in your feelings you'd run out of people who wanted you to sing, and if the point came where you were out of gigs...you didn't even want to think about it. if you weren't singing you weren't living.

only a few hours after that call you manage to get back to normal. you go out and get your own groceries, deciding to indulge yourself and buy the ingredients for some recipe you saw online months ago. one of your clients cries at your performance, ecstatically telling you they'll be in talks with your manager to set up a stable contract. things really start to look up. two weeks later you even manage to get the number of a cute girl, elise, a tall woman with dyed hair who reached for the same vintage music box as you at an open market.

you're smiling as you look down at the messy ink on a slip of paper, the numbers and tiny smily face distracting you as you enter the hallway to your apartment. so distracted that you nearly trip over a object on the floor, looking down to see...a bouquet?

a really gorgeous bouquet you notice as you bend over to pick it up. its a collage of dusty blues and off-colored ivories, and when you brought it closer to your nose for a whiff you felt a sense of bliss. you bring it into your apartment with a skip in your step before you spot a piece of paper among the flowers, plucking it from the collection and reading it over.

upon closer inspection, you can see its a postcard, the cover a flattering shot of the statue of liberty with text that reads "love from new york city!". you try to calm your heart down at the location and the 'love' part, but you've already gotten your hopes up when you turn the card around to read the message:

xxx-xxx-xxxx

sorry for the wait. i'll make it up to you, angel.

you'd never felt so conflicted as you did in the past five seconds. half of you was vindicated that yes, this attractive woman didnt leave you high and dry and did actually have a deeper interest in you, but the other part was angry. and embarrassed that you were angry, because again, you spent less than a day with this woman, she didn't owe you anything. but also yes the hell she did.

before you could get yourself together you were harshly tapping the number into your cell, biting at your lip as the phone slowly rings.

"y/n, is that you?" echoes from the line, victorias voice sounding and running over your head like soft silk. no, no, stop it. focus.

"howd you know it was me? im sure you have other people who'd be calling you this late."

"certainly not anyone with a phone number from paris. besides, i was hoping it'd be you."

"well, i would have been flattered two weeks ago but unfortunately i dont think your words could phase me right now."

she sighs and the line goes silent. you feel bad for being catty for a few seconds before you brush it off. she's the one who played with your emotions and promised to call you but never did. she had this coming.

"im sorry, really i am. i've been busy with things at work and my daughter-"

damn it, she pulled the kid card again.

"i just...dont like being lied to. or led on. maybe its my fault for beeing too clingy-"

"no, no. dont apologize. if it means anything youve been on my mind for weeks now."

"yeah, same here. except my thoughts havent been all that nice." you laugh.

"deserved. and id like to make it up to you."

"oh yeah? let me guess, this time we'll spend two nights together?"

"close. how about two weeks. in new york."

you don't know if you should laugh. you feel like you should, so you do. but she isn't.

"you...you're being serious."

"im being serious."

what do you even say? what do you even do? of course, whatever higher power there is would make your life stable and steady for the past few months then throw this in to shake you up. you really should have been expecting it, considering...

you shake yourself back to the present. victoria is still waiting on the other line, unwilling to rush you into a decision, apparently. you'd applaud her for her chivalry if you weren't so stunned.

"victoria, come on. we've only met once, and while it was nice it was brief. now you want me to upend my life and career to jet off to america? it sounds crazy."

"you make me a bit crazy, honestly. besides, you were telling me in bed you haven't been in the states since you left, i have a feeling you miss it more than you let on."

you shuffle in your spot, reminded that you're standing in your cold-ass kitchen and you haven't changed out of the outfit you wore out today. but half of your uncomfortableness is from a feeling gnawing at your chest because she's right. at this point you can barely remember the night you left your childhood home, but you know it was rushed. you wanted to forget everything.

"i think you're also forgetting that i have a blossoming career here. are you gonna pay my definitely going to be pissed off manager her wages? plus i was supposed to be first pick for this really good gig-"

"i'll pay for everything, i promise. dont forget that i have connections. in two weeks they''ll be singing you praises across the globe."

you close your eyes and take in a breath.

"can you make my ticket first class?"

one thing you didnt miss about america? just how...much everything was, all the time.

your flight was quiet. victoria didnt hesitate to book you an expensive ticket, almost taking offense to your request for a nice one and scheduling you for business class, sending you a text to get lots of rest in the ultra-luxe beds on the plane. it was probably one of the best nights sleeps you'd had in months.

when you got off the plane there were two tall escorts holding a sign with your last name on it, taking the suitcases from your hands before you could say anything and leading you into a sleek black car. a voice in the back of your head starts screaming but you ignore it. for now.

the men in the car give you some basic rundowns, how they'll constantly be hovering over you during your stay for your "protection", and that they'll be taking you to settle into a hotel until victoria makes contact, and the little voice starts freaking out again and telling you that you've slept with and are fraternizing with a mob boss. at least it's more exciting than your last few flings.

the car goes silent after that, and you put in your earbuds as you watch the city go by. you weren't from new york, but you loved watching movies set in the bustling cityscape. the buildings really are humongous, and you see so many different types of people it sets your brain on a whirlwind.

you look back down at your phone after the fifth 'the seven' advertisement in one block.

yet again you're led into a clearly extremely expensive hotel, breezing through reception before you are led to a luxuriant hotel room, the bodyguards ignoring you as you giggle and flop onto the bed, waving them off when they tell you they'll be posted outside.

the sheets feel heavenly on your skin, and with the soft sunshine from the window beaming down on you and the gentle hustle and bustle of new york outside, you think you could fall asleep in a minute. but, begrudgingly, you peel yourself form the bed and open your suitcase to start putting your clothes away before taking a quick shower in the giant bathtub.

just as you exit the shower and wrap your body in a towel, your phone starts ringing and as soon as you read the 'v' in the contact name you push answer and bring it to your ear.

"hello? vic?"

"hey, hon. eager to talk to me?"

"you called me. and 'hon'? really? we've moved to petnames already?"

"figured id start making up for those weeks with no contact. and id like to do so again tonight. i wanna bring you somewhere."

your mouth quirks up in a smile as you re-adjust the towel around your body, the phone nearly slipping from its quick placement between your phone and ear, "id really like that. i hope its out to dinner, i didnt care to eat any of the plane food."

“yes, it’s to dinner. but its up to you if you want it to be fancy or casual. i know its tacky but there’s this pretty cute french place near where i live...”

“that vaguely sounds like an invitation to your place, but ill let it slide. are you gonna pick me up or are your special agents going to escort me everywhere for the next few weeks?”

“special agents? what agents?”

a bead of water drips from your neck down your back and it feels like the tip of a knife. a pressure builds in the back of your throat and your fingers grip the fabric of your towel. “what…that’s a joke, right?”

her laughter rings in your ear and you are seconds away from hanging up the call.

“sorry, sorry. i sometimes have a weird sense of humor. you'll get used to it.”

“i doubt it.”

“and i'm hopeful. i'll let you go so you can get ready, i'll be by in under an hour.”

you hang up after a sweet goodbye and gently sit on the toilet. your brain is rushing to catch up after the conversation like your body goes on autopilot when you hear victoria's voice. its terrifying and its thrilling. and you don't know why a part of you likes the feeling.

after you brush your teeth, do some quick skincare, debate over shaving just in case, and spend twenty minutes picking out a cute outfit, you finally hear the gentle knocking on the door while you're double-checking over the content of your purse.

rushing to open the door, you're greeted with the sight of a smiling victoria, her hands tucked into the pants of her clearly expensive pinstriped pantsuit. you're admiring the look of her hair tucked back into a ponytail when she's reaching forward and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"you look perfect. come on, i made us a reservation."

and it turned out to be a perfect night. she did end up taking you to the french place, allowing you to order whatever you wanted. that place was weirdly empty, only a handful of other patrons inside. you were pleased to see that the waitress was french herself, having a small chat about the customs and foods she missed while she praised the authenticity of the food at the restaurant.

only a day and you had already forgotten how forward the people back home could be, because the waitress throws a subtle look at victoria and compliments you on finding such an attractive woman. when she leaves vic just smiles.

“ok, id say at this point we’re doing pretty good with the communication thing, right?” you ask, taking a sip of the pricey wine your date ordered.

“yeah, id say that.”

you finger the rim of your glass, the nerves getting to you before you ask your question. "i want you to tell me what your job is. your actual job, not some vague ass title. you have security following gus around, so i feel like i should know."

"no, no, you're right. i just didnt wanna scare you off. or have you think differently of me once i told you." she sighs, thumbing the napkins on the table. "i work in the government. i'm a congresswoman, to be exact."

you don't doubt she's a politician for a second, because she shows no hint of nervousness at your lack of emotion.

"are you...a good congresswoman?"

"i don't really know how to answer that." she laughs.

"i'm sorry. i knew you were important enough to be at that gala, but a politician is...tricky."

she reaches across the table and lays her hand palm up, smiling when you rest yours on top of it. "look, i get it. i should have told you sooner but please understand why i didn't. i wanted to get to know you as normally as possible, without all of the press and politics in the way."

"normally as possible, huh? that includes sleeping together on the first night?"

you're trying to show your acceptance of the situation with your humor, but you can tell victoria can sense your uneasiness at the situation. here you were thinking you had found some under-the-radar millionaire to dote on you and instead, you'd roped in someone whose job was entirely in the public eye that could be put in danger at the flip of a switch.

"how about we finish up and take this back to my place? i'll tell you everything that you wanna know about me. no matter how personal."

you stare into her eyes for a few seconds and decide that she looks genuine, getting confirmation that her daughter is staying with a friend before ending your meal and following her to her place.

for the amount of money she's ready to spend on you, you're surprised to see that victoria lives in a chic but quaint townhome only a twenty-minute walk from the restaurant. she gently takes off your coat and instructs you to sit with her on the couch, pressing on a remote to turn on her fireplace.

after a few hours and two more glasses of wine, victoria had opened up to you about nearly everything in her life. the mysterious death of her birth family, being adopted by a man who helped pushed her to go into a political career, her polite but loveless marriage with her ex. she even shows you a picture of zoe that she has in her wallet, taking the chance to gush over her daughter. she seems like such a sweet girl.

maybe it's the wine or maybe it's the way vic is opening up to you so freely, but you decide to tell her more about your past. how you always wondered why you barely stuggled moving to another continent at such a young age, or the fact that you dont even remeber why you had the drive to leave your parents home in the first place. you didnt even remember the last words you said to each other.

and throughout it all she's nothing if not attentive, she doesnt ask questions unless you give her permission too, keeping her eyes on you and gently placing her hand over yours.

you feel a turning in your stomach when she moves a stray hand of hair behind your ear. you told yourself to try taking things slow this time, but your body is starting to feel fuzzy and shes looking at you like she wants to devour you.

she decides to indulge you and gently brushes her lips against yours, smiling at the way your breath staggers. your head moves forwards to finaly get her to kiss you but she jerks her head back.

"i want you to tell me what to do."

god, your stomach feels hot. this is new, but a really arousing style of new. the last time you both slept together she had taken a careful but unwavering charge, unraveling you with a steady hand a sweet smile.

"cmon just...please?"

"no. tell me what you want me to do."

you sigh and bite at your lip. "i want you to lay me down and fuck me. right now."

so she laid you down and she did. there were no words to describe how much you enjoyed that night on her couch, the way she could read your body like a book and brought you to ecstasy again and again and again...

and when you wake up a soft blanket is draped over your body, a brekfast of coffee and some crepes set in front of you.

the days after are a whirlwind. discreetly as possible victoria takes you on a tour of new york city, to more expensive restaurants and hidden jewels that most tourists skipped over.

youre lounging in your hotel room when you decide to inform your friends of how your trip is going. while slightly hesitant they seemed more than happy that you were enjoying yourself with someone who took a genuine interest in you.

until you told them her job.

"my love, are you insane? a politician?"

"an american politician?" chloe gasps, continuing off of jamies shock.

"hey, im american too dont forget!"

"of course you are, but please, you understand why this is not good, no?"

"you know how fishy they are, especially with all the supe business going on. that place is getting more dangerous by the day, and i dont think you should be seeing someone whos contirbuting to that."

it pained you to admit it but jamie had a point. the three of you would always laugh in amused horror at how badly things were going on in your birth country, and the politics...it was less than pleasant.

not to mention the supe business. every corner of the world had to deal with the annoyance that was vought and their "products", even france. but so far you'd just had to deal with a few perverted looks from traveling supers and talks of some stupid theme park a few miles out of the city. meanwhile, it seemed like every day a new superhero was being introduced to the American public. it unnerved you.

"i understand. i appreciate both of you looking out for me. trust me, i'll be on my guard for now on." you mumble, picking at the material of your sleeve.

"of course, songbird. we'll call again soon."

the call ends and drop your phone on the nightstand. you look at the eiffel tower cutout in your phone case and your heart aches.

the next morning you're eating a a breakfast of coffee and fruit crepes when your phone rings, dragging your atttention away from the trashy dating show you were watching on the bedroom's tv. when you see nancy's name you hesitantly answer the call.

"nance? is everything alright?"

"everything is great. i'm just here to check in about your next gig."

"my next- nance, im on vacation. please tell you didnt forget and booked me for a job when im across the ocean."

"no, im not that stupid, hon." she sighs. "i didnt even arrange this job, victoria did. im just the messenger."

you blink once. then twice. you remember vic saying something about helping you with a job but you honestly just thought that was bullshit to get her to come stay with you.

(or get in your pants. but you don’t think you’d be too upset about that now.)

“ok. thank you, nancy. tell me the details.”

it’s a lot more extravagant than you expected. victorias friend, an actual senator, was holding a fundraising event for some government program he and vic were both involved in. nancy wasn’t told what the program was, but that you would have to go through a security debrief before being told you'd be given a team to help you prepare. and picking from a selected closet of dresses. fun.

you ignore the feeling of nervousness that’s building up in your gut. because while all of your gigs were important, they were never this important. you push it down as you call victoria and thank her endlessly, when you tell your friends the minimum amount that you can tell them, and when victoria picks you up from outside your hotel twelve hours before the event even starts.

she pressed a small kiss to your hand, laughing at the grumpy and tired mumble you let out when you sit in the car seat. it only passes once she gives you a coffee she picked up, the caffeine waking you up and putting a smile on your face.

the content feeling turns into shock when you enter victorias' place and see zoe, vic throwing a short explanation of “busy babysitter” over her shoulder as she heads into the kitchen.

its a bit awkward at first, sitting on one couch as she plays on a black nintendo switch on the other. it helps when you ask her about whatever she’s playing, the girl diving into a rant about the farm game she’s playing and how she’s trying to catch a certain type of fish.

victoria comes back with a tray of breakfast for the three of you before asking her daughter how school is going, how her friends are, etc. its nice to get a glimpse into victories private life during the morning, the close bond she has with her daughter. you notice some tension but decide not to bring it up.

the morning goes by too quickly, zoe being picked up to be dropped off at a friend's house after giving you a sweet goodbye and you getting rushed upstairs as the team comes to the townhome to help you prepare. its a nice change, having other people doll you up instead of having to worry about trying to do everything correctly and by yourself. and its a perk you don't have to spend your own money to do it.

the team members are nice but punctual, finishing your hair and makeup in record time with not a second wasted. you barely get time to notice yourself in the mirror before you're ushered into a gorgeous gown, soft fabrics and a chic and elegant style.

when your finished you’re finally allowed to observe yourself while your transportation and is prepared, and it feels like you’re looking at a dream version of yourself.

as you admire yourself in the mirror vic comes up next to you, clearly enjoying herself as her eyes slowly drift up and down your body.

“you look…ethereal.” she whispers, pressing a small kiss to your cheek after you turn to smile at her.

“only because of you. i don’t know how i could ever make this up to you, vic. this is just…”

“trust me, you’ve already done enough.”

while you knew there would be some press at the event, you didn't expect over two dozen paparazzi to quickly start flashing their cameras in your direction as soon as you got out of your ride. questions about who you were wearing, the relationship you had with vic, etcetera etcetera. you would've buckled from the sudden pressure if it weren't for victoria’s steady hand on your waist, the press of her arm through her red pantsuit.

the venue is downright insane, so grand you start to wonder if you're in one of those gilded age mansions you used to read about in new york magazines. climbing pillars and art on the ceiling of the main hall, which you don't get to admire since you’re yet again whisked away to get ready.

after a few more touch ups you aren’t afforded a minute to prepare, guided to the edge of the performance area. the sinking feeling is back in your stomach. the biggest moment of your life and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

the lights dim and you glide onto the stage, able to see the shadows of the guests faces from the flickering table lights. it’s eerie, the amount of them staring up at you with eyes you can’t even see.

you were given a set list a few days prior, only a couple of songs for the payment you would apparently receive after this. the songs piqued your interest, a collection of classical melancholic pieces from around the fifties. vic told you her friend was a vintage nut, but you didn't know why he chose these for you to perform when the event seemed to have an uplifting aura.

either way it felt…different, singing this time. the spotlight was on you and you’ve never felt as beautiful as you did in this moment. everyone was watching you, so hooked on the melodies escaping your body that you could see the emotions brining some people to the edge of their seats.

you don’t let it show but you grow a bit anxious at the sight of supers in their uniforms in the crowd. you don’t see anyone from the seven, but you do notice a woman you recognized from some commercial about climate change and earth preservation, the green of her dress and the nature motifs in her outfit give you a clue as to what her power was.

just when you feel yourself about to slip, dangerously close to hitting a note at a weird pitch, you see victoria, getting deja vu at the sight of her staring at you from the bar like the first night you met. she's looking at you like she's never doubted you for a second, like you're an angel sent from above that's blessed her life.

you hold her gaze when you sing. noticing the soft smile on her face when you sing a lyric about how the feelings in your heart feel so intense you fear you're going insane.

when the first song ends the lights come back on and you're met with a polite yet thunderous applause, the smile on your face so wide your cheeks start to hurt. the presenter comes back on stage, praising your performance with a swipe at his eyes before telling the guests that the host would be on shortly, and after he gives a short speech you'd be back to sing some more. with a gentle nod and wave, you step off the stage.

you feel like you're walking on air, with no doubt that was one of your best performances yet. your emotions got a little intense there but nothing you couldn't manage, and everyone seemed to like it anyway.

you're able to send a quick text and a picture to jamie and chloe before you hear the sound of the door to your quaint dressing room open, not able to turn around before you feel hands around your waist and plush lips on the side of your neck, the sight of victoria wrapped around you in the mirror making butterflies swarm in your stomach.

"i take it you liked my singing?"

"like doesn't even begin to cover it," she mumbles into your neck, raising her head slightly to be able to hold eye contact through the mirror. "i'm so lucky i found you, y'know that?"

you playfully brush her off, telling her you have to freshen up for some mingling before you get back on stage. she gladly helps you with your makeup, and while you weren't expecting her to be so touchy tonight you definitely aren't complaining, especially when her hand starts to drift closer to the space between your legs. it takes an embarrassing amount of mental strength to deny her, promising you'll continue once you go back to her place.

once you're finished getting ready she leads you back out to the hall, introducing you to numerous business people, politicians, celebrities, etc. you try not to fangirl when you meet a singer whose songs you've been obsessed with lately and when she asks you to perform at her cousins wedding. victoria just smirks when she leads you away and you let out a tiny squeal under your breath.

once the networking is done you're able to take the time to sit down and eat some of the catered food, almost moaning at the tastes of the food. you sometimes forget just how good food could be in the states, and these rich people pulled out all the stops. you try not to eat too quickly or impolitely as victoria talks with her tablemates, some people from her job apparently. after the first introductions and praises they gave you you mentally tapped out of the situation. she luckily covers for you when they question your mood, laughing when she tells them you've had a long day of being treated like a singing barbie doll.

everyone in the room quiets down when the hos taakes the stage and starts his speech. he introduces himself as robert stendham, and you feel a little embarrassed that this man gave you the chance to sing here and you didn't even know his name. you're thinking about how odd it is that you weren't introduced before this when he mentions something about the program and you perk up.

"...extend a personal thank you to general jameson for finding the time to escape his duties to fly in and be here with us tonight, and a special thanks to director neuman for helping me with this project and finding the beautifully talented y/n to perform for us tonight."

there was a brief few seconds of applause, victoria looking around and giving out smiles while you wondered what the hell she was the director of.

"as you can see, we have a few supers with us tonight. people like hazelwood, whose efforts against climate change have lead to over a dozen organizations plating millions of trees and clearing millions of pounds of trash for the ocean. because that's what supers are supposed to do-protect us. not act like degenerates who get to do what they want because of their abilities."

your eyebrow twitches, sensing the slight anti-supe propaganda from the end of his speech. well, not anti every supe, just the ones who act like gods among men, which you could understand. but you still felt an uneasy feeling rising in your stomach. you feel vic's palm rest over the top of your hand under the table.

"which is why im incredibly honored that director and congresswoman neuman has extended a hand to me to invest in the federal bureau of superhuman affairs, and to further extend that hand to you to help participate in this monumental institution..."

everything is a fog and your brain taps out once he starts talking about what this burerua does, how they closely monitor supes and jail the ones who've caused public harm. your head feels hot and your chest feels cold, and you can't stop your body from going on auto-pilot and excusing yourself to the bathroom before finding some balcony on the higher floor.

the cold air of new york shocks your body back into normalcy, but the pounding in your head persists. it feels like a panic attack ut so much worse, like your fight or flight has been activated without anything even happening. had you rushed into all of this? chasing a girl and a dream like you were a teenager again?

yet again the door opens behind you and someone comes to stand next to you, able to tell who it is by the scent of brown sugar and the glimpse of dark hair blowing with the slight breeze.

"you alright? mr. brandon from the tech startup was asking about you, tried to make me invest in some room light plant grower hybrid-"

"why did you bring me here?"

you cut her off and the air is quiet, save for the sounds of cars and the city and the wind. it's weird, standing in a tense silence like this with her.

"how are you feeling?" she whispers .

"are you- " you turn, nearly giving yourself whiplash with the speed at which you turn to look at her. the look on her face, like she's just observing you and how you're reacting. it only upsets you more. "are you being serious?"

"yes, i am. tell me."

"no, answer my question first. why are you avoiding it?"

she sighs, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face before reaching to grab your hand, which you hesitantly let her hold.

"as you heard, im part of a buereau that monitors supherhumans, keeping track of them, making sure they cant use their powers for harm. so far we've only had to deal with supes here in the states. until one day, this couple comes in that believe their daughter has used her powers on them."

she reaches for something in her pocket and your grip tightens. she pulls out a polaroid and holds the picture up for you to see. you feel like you're going to vomit when you see you, smiling, standing with your parents in a backyard.

"what...what is this? how'd you get this?"

"the couple gave me this picture, and told me how weird the least few years have been. friends and family asking where their daughter went, how she was doing, a daughter they didnt even remeber having."

you bring a hand up to your head, hopelessly trying to dissipate the splitting headache that's forming.

"but then they said the memories started coming back. glimpses of a child running in the grass, birthday parties, graduations, talent shows-"

"stop, please just stop." you gasp, hunching over as good as you can with the restrictions of your gown. it doesn't even feel like the world is just spinning, it feels like its being played in some celestial game of pool. "so what, you're saying...you're saying i did that? to my parents?"

"yes," she reaches for the side of your face, guiding you to look up at her. "and you can do so much more. you already have."

this can't be happening.

"why do you think people react so emotionally to your singing? you think its just because you're amazing? that's not even half of it."

your breathing is picking up again.

flashes of memories start appearing in your vision. so many happy times with your parents that you forgot, friends that you left behind. how your parents didn't support your half-thought-out plan to become a singer, how you made them forget. made yourself forget.

"i don't want you to think i did all of this just for what i want. i didn't. i care about you, and i want you to help me. but you need to trust me."

the blood is rushing back and from your head, and you think about how weird her eyes look against the backdrop of the city before you pass out.

finally. FINALLY. ong i wrote like 1k in the past day because i said just get this shit over with but its done! 5 months later! hope you enjoyed :)

#the boys #the boys x reader #the boys series #the boys smut #gen v #gen v x reader #victoria neuman x reader #victoria neuman #victoria x reader #victoria neuman fluff #victoria neuman angst #victoria neuman smut

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eccentricallygothic · 6 months

Note

Since I don't see much of it,may I request a dark robber Bucky AU? That turned soft dark? It can be a home robbery. Or a bank robbery. Whichever's easier for you. But I feel like a bank robbery would be way more thrilling. Maybe he held her as a hostage and had his way with her. But then decided he wants to keep her for himself after all and add kidnapping to the list <3 Ski mask and all. Like the one Seb wears for his role in that Destroyer movie with Nicole Kidman. Except I want to request the long haired Civil War Bucky looking Bucky in this one. Just imagine how hot it is when he takes off his ski mask & reveals himself to her in all his glory with his long hair falling to the sides of his face and framing it perfectly. And reader is just stunned,because he's too beautiful. Again,if you want to do a home robbery instead,it's fine too. He went to rob a house but wasn't expecting the pretty little thing hiding under the blanket/in the closet. Decided to have some fun on his "quest" and had his way with her but had a change of mind and decided to correct his way, "moves in" with reader in her home and get a proper job now so he can finally marry her in the near future and propose to her with a diamond ring,one that doesn't belong to reader's mother/grandmother/aunt lol. And finally have that break,that normal life he's been craving for so long now and a beautiful wife by his side to spend his whole life with. Sorry if this request sucks,just haven't seen much robber AUs of Bucky so I thought why not? Okay,that's all I got. Whether you want to take it up or not,thank you so much <3 I'll keep enjoying your other works :D

so… um… idk if you know me or not but i am kinda known on here for being a mad slut… i hope you like it and please don't hate me if you don't i know i am greedy af. ill redo it with one of the scenarios if you don't like it <333

| Small World |

Pairing: Dark-Soft-Dark Robber!Bucky Barnes | Naïve!You.

Warning(s): Non-con/Dub-con, Dark!Bucky, bank robbery, violence, knife play, gun play, fear kink, unprotected p-in-v sex, missionary, doggy style, corruption kink, sir kink, power imbalance, Daddy kink, stockholm syndrome, he's lowkey mean, size kink, naive!Reader, virginity loss, fingering, spanking, dacryphilia. Minors do not interact.

MASTERLIST

Panicked and horrified eyes turn to stare at you when you are pointed out of your group of hostages to stand up from your position on the ground. Some of your colleagues look at you with pity, others with hope and plea in their teary eyes.

Please, do it for us.

The greater good, and all.

Before you can decide whether you are the sacrificial lamb type or not, the masked man who has called out for you wraps one of his gloved hands around your arm and tugs you away from your group. Your meek and wheezed out requests fall on deaf ears as you are marched down the main hall.

“P- Please!” You turn your head to look back at his covered face with tear stained cheeks, head slightly shaking as your hands tremble beside it from their position in the air.

“I won’t repeat myself” the soft volume of the man’s voice can easily be easily mistaken for mercy if not for the menace in his tone. And the fact that he has the biggest stature out of his entire group –practically a giant- does not help your case. “Get the fuck inside or I’ll make you” he nods towards the door of the manager’s office, gun trained at you threateningly. “Move it.”

Within the next few moments, the man has you pressed up between him and the heavy wooden desk while he towers over you, toying with the loose strands of your hair with a little pocket knife that he has brandished out of his leather jacket.

“Please…” You helplessly plead in vain, thighs quivering from the way he rests his gun between your legs. Your shaking thighs tightly hug the barrel as the tip presses into the table.

“Aw, honey” he is relaxed and unfazed, almost as though he is unaware of the severity of the situation. Or perhaps this is more natural to him than you can ever know. A chill rises in your back as realization hits you. He cannot care less. “Why are you crying?” The man gathers a drop of your panic on the tip of his blade before bringing it to his mouth and taking a lick before humming at the taste. “I just wanna be friends… don’t you wanna be friends?” Your bottom lip wobbles as you shake your head stupidly.

“P- Please lemme go join the rest…” He sighs at your sob, disappointed.

“Out there with all those average Joes?” His teal eyes watch you from behind the mask as he traces the shape of your clothed boobs with the knife. “Oh, come on, pretty girl” terror fills you when you feel his hard-on rubbing against one of your knees. “You’re too special to be out there with those lowlifes, baby” your body freezes when the knife trails its way up your chest to rest on your bottom lip.

“P- Please…” A whisper shudders its way out of your still lips while your widened eyes watch the blade trail along the opening of your mouth. “D- Don’t hurt me, s- sir…”

“I won’t have to if you behave…” The tip of the weapon clinks against your teeth as the crown of his gun caresses your intimate part at the same time; having found its way into your pencil skirt. “So say, doll. Will you behave for me?” You would be a fool if you think that you have any other choice than to nod. “Use your words now, come on” his muffled coo is so soft it nearly triggers something inside you.

But before you can ponder over it, his hand thumps against your cheek to bring you back to the present moment and you find yourself instantly nodding again. "Y- Yes, sir. I- I'll behave for you…" Something scratches at you from deep inside, but the sickening stimulation that you're being subjected to keeps you bound in the present moment.

"Good girl" you let out a relieved exhale when he pulls the blade from your lips and now brings it to the buttons of your blouse. "Tell me, honey. Do you have a boyfriend?" Your cheeks flush despite the situation and you gulp, lowering your eyes to watch him bounce the stitch holding your button together against the sharp metal. "Or… maybe a little girlfriend?" You can't help but loudly gasp when the thread finally comes undone and your swells bounce into his view.

"P- Please, sir…" The man tuts and shakes his head.

"Remember, baby. I'll only be nice to you if you are nice to me…" As if to put emphasis on his words, he straightens the knife and softly pokes one of your boobs by sliding the tip inside. You can't see it but your hurried apology makes him smirk under the mask. "Now, then. Where were we…?"

"N- No, sir…" You softly sob, unable to control your tears. "I d- don't have a boyfriend…"

"Good girl" he speaks as if he knows you and like you owe it to him, his gun-holding hand disappearing inside his jacket to put the weapon away. Though the relief that washes over you at the sight is short-lived because said hand then comes to grip and caress one of your thighs… under your skirt. "You're too good for silly little boys" your mouth falls agape when he suddenly catches two more of your buttons in a single strike, making your boobs jerk downwards due to the sudden change in pressure.

"Please–!"

"Shhhh" his rough hands yank you closer and against him by the help of your ass, your clothed core colliding with his bulge as he now presses the wider part of the knife against your lips. "I won't remind you again, baby. I'll only be nice to you if you shut up and behave like a good fucking girl" his eyelids flutter a little when his hips move against yours. "Because you'll look just as pretty to me without a tongue as you do now, so make your choice" you freeze as blood drains from your face.

The man gives you a few moments to try him and then he hums in satisfaction when you don't dare.

"See, that wasn't so fuckin' hard, was it, baby?" Your eyes sting from how tears keep spilling out and down your face in thick streams, the saltiness pricking at your lips as you feel his knife cut your skirt open from the middle before he tears an opening in your pantyhose, groaning at the sight of your pussy before you feel the leather of his gloves tease your folds. "Fucking hell, honey. You've such a cute little pussy on you" you can no longer clearly see what he's doing due to your blurry vision, but the violation of your intimate parts leaves you devoid of any desire to do so.

Your mind screams at you to stop him.

No one should touch you.

You don't know why exactly, but every fiber of your existence is screeching at you to run.

Not so much to escape, instead to avoid being defiled.

But what match are you to an armed man who is thrice your size?

"It's so tiny and fragile, do you think she can handle me, huh baby?" His voice is heavy as he now pumps his huge leaking cock with one hand, hissing when he touches the tip against your opening to gather some of your slick before spreading it on himself. "You can cry as many of those pretty little tears as you want, angel. Your naughty little pussy is telling me everything I need to know" a sob leaves you at his words as you helplessly sit wide legged with your head hung low, hands resting flat on the table behind you like you had been instructed to do so a few moments ago, now awaiting the inevitable.

"Fuck" he can't help but roughly curse when your opening refuses to accommodate him and his thick tip slides off it a couple times. "A feisty one" he snickers casually like this is the most normal thing ever. "Good thing I am in the habit of taming–" his words abruptly disappear into a grunt that is accompanied by a jerk of his hips, the action eliciting a loud moan of discomfort from you, "–silly brats like this sweet little pussy here" your back arches as your features scrunch in discomfort, nails pressing against the wooden tabletop. Your pussy squelches around his cock as it is being pried open by his thick girth.

"Ohhh, sir!" You grunt and more tears escape your eyes. "N- No, no…" Your thighs tremble as you shake your head in horror. "N- No… This is wrong…" Your voice is barely a whisper but he seems to understand you clearly.

The man cruelly chuckles, the action causing vibrations to travel up your body from where they are connected. "But it sure feels fucking great, don't you agree?" The flat part of his knife digs into the side of your leg as he tightens his hold on your thighs and settles on a rhythm, hips rocking back and forth between the space of your legs.

Your arms give out and buckle in, causing you to land on your elbows as the loud squeaks of your pussy squeezing at the skin of his cock before letting it go with humiliating clicks only for it to repeat fills the air.

Your lack of response makes him snort. "What, you don't agree?" When you still don't say anything and just continue to stare at his ski mask, a competitive glint appears in his teal eyes. He brings the knife to your lips and holds it against them. "Kiss it" when your shoulders shake with silent sobs, his hips speed up and the blade presses harder against your skin. "I said, kiss it!" The harshness of his tone forces you to succumb to fear and you obey, nearly sliding up and down the table as you peck the metal. "Now thank me for fucking you" your lips wobble against the weapon but he is relentless as he pants for air in the mask, one hand tightly curled around your knee as your other leg dangles from the table.

"T- Thank you for fucking me, s- sir…" He twitches inside you with a satisfied growl, each thrust fucking into you deeper and deeper.

"Now tell me I am the best cock you've ever had" your head is splitting. You feel as though you are being pulled in two opposite directions. A chaos has erupted in your mind and you can barely register his demands anymore. "Do it!" The slap he lands on your boob breaks your train of thought but the hit triggers something inside you and you speak before you can think it over.

"Please, sir! He won't like it! I can't!" You have no idea who you are referring to and the way his eyes narrow down at you signals that he doesn't either.

Just what the hell is going on?

The entirety of today feels like one big Deja Vu.

"Who won't like it?!" His thrusts have turned animalistic but his voice is much less nonchalant than before. "You said you didn't have a boyfriend!"

"I don't!" You squeak out through your tears as your pussy clenches around him and your stomach flips over, the overwhelming sensation in addition to the cruel way in which his hips snap causing your elbows to give up at last.

"Then who the fuck are you talking about?!" Your shoulders knock over the stationary holder as you shake your head helplessly.

"I- I don't know!" His hot seed explodes in your tight cavern as you whine loudly, desperate to get away from the assault his cock is inflicting on your worked up gspot. "I don't know! I don't know!" You are at a puzzling loss of words. "But he won't like it! He won't!"

His concluding thrusts feel almost angry -not that they were much tender in the first place- as a string of muttered curses release from his clenched mouth, the man's long dark hair swaying over his broad shoulders every time he moves.

"Fucking hell, angel" he rasps once he has finally stopped, though he still remains inside you. "They really did do a number on you, didn't they?" His mask is nearly snatched off his face in the next moment to reveal the most handsome man you have ever seen.

Utterly remarkable features accompany the teal eyes that watch you angrily, shiny long strands framing them in the most attractive way as the wide shoulders of the man rise and fall with each furious exhale of his flared nose. His sharp jaw that is covered in light stubble is tightly set as he scans your face, fingers tightening around your flesh more and more with the passing second.

You feel your nether region blink against his cock as you numbly take notice of every detail that he has to offer. Your eyebrows furrow after a few moments when you realize just what you are doing. Then as your eyes begin to widen and palms find the surface of the desk to press against it in order to hoist you up, the realization of why you are doing what you are dawning upon you.

Your face is next to his within the next second, the discomfort of your joint bodies long forgotten as you reach a finger out towards his face to touch it.

"Oh, my God…" You whisper as you slowly trace out what the mask had been hiding and like a dam broken, a barrage of memories hits you so hard your vision falters momentarily. "No way…" Your hand falls limp at your side in shock.

"Small world, eh?" His grin glints in the dim lighting of the room.

. . .

A loud thump sounded right outside the door of your wardrobe and you couldn't help but whimper, the sound making you widen your eyes before you hurriedly buried your mouth in your fuzzy yellow blanket.

It was an ordinary Saturday night and you had been watching a movie when you had run out of snacks. So you paused it and got out of bed to grab yourself something from the kitchen but faint unexpected footsteps in the hallway leading to your room forced you to halt your quest.

Thankfully, you had made it into your current hiding spot just in time before the door to your room slowly opened and a huge figure stepped in, peeking around the room before it stilled in front of the TV. You watched through the slits of the doors as the mysterious man had put two and two together before beginning his search.

For you.

You slowly shifted a little to see better when he disappeared momentarily, but then he suddenly walked by the wardrobe and you had to stuff the blanket in your mouth to keep yourself from gasping. The man paused and scanned the room again. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as he turned towards your bathroom and vanished from your field of vision again. A door opened before clicking close and you sighed in relief.

Letting a few moments pass before slowly opening the door to a crack, you half turned to grab Kiki, your cuddle buddy and favorite teddy in the entire world from where she had fallen off your lap a moment ago. Though when you went to exit the wardrobe to find your phone and figure out your next move, you found a pair of teal eyes watching you from the crack you had just created, the shock causing you to jump out of your skin and land against the wall behind you with a loud gasp.

You clutched your blanket and teddy close to your pounding chest as you hid your face in your knees, shaking in fear as your heart hammered against your ribcage.

Some moments passed in complete silence before you felt hands tugging at your cocoon. "Please, please, please!" The most soothing voice you had ever heard responded to them.

"I'll be nice to you if you'll be nice to me" his words were the most convincing you had ever heard. "What do you say, angel?" You raised your head just enough to see a metal arm extended towards you.

"Please don't hurt me" you whispered through a wobble of your bottom lip.

"I won't have to if you behave yourself" his form towered you like a vulture hunching over its prey. "You're a good girl, aren't you?" Your furniture had given him some idea of the kind of person that you were.

And the rest Bucky wanted to find out for himself.

He had decided that he would have you before he had even stepped inside this room when the framed pictures of you with friends and family decorating the living room had caused a tent inside his pants.

"Use your words for me" you whimpered before slowly nodding your head.

"Y- Yes, sir. A- Am a good girl" he hummed before thrusting his held out hand in your direction.

"Come on, then. Don't make me repeat myself" the menacing edge to his tone made you gulp and comply before the minute's end.

You were slowly and carefully helped out and onto your feet. The stranger's silky hair rushed forth to frame his face when he lowered it to look at Kiki as she landed with a thump on the floor.

Holding your hand in a firm grip, the man bent to pick her up but didn't hand her back to you.

"And who is this?"

"K- Kiki, sir."

"Is she your… friend?"

"B- Bestie, s- sir…" Unbeknownst to you, his cock hardened at your choice of words.

Fuck.

"Do you want her back?" You slowly nodded with pleading eyes.

He hummed again before speaking. "There's a condition."

"C- Condition, s- sir?"

"You will be quiet and obedient."

You agreed, not that you had much of a choice but Kiki's wellbeing was your top priority.

The stranger placed you on your bed within the next few moments, pulling your blanket away and giving you a pointed look before threateningly waving the poor teddy in the air when a low whine escaped you. The warning was enough for you to shut your mouth as you curled your toes, flushing under his violating gaze that scanned your underdressed form.

You were clad in nothing but a tank top and some strawberry pattern underwear. The sudden shift in your body temperature due to the lack of a blanket made your nipples harden against the sheer material of your shirt and the man cursed under his breath before his free hand traveled to his bulge.

"Why don't you show me how well you and Kiki get along, huh, angel?" You eagerly nodded when the teddy was finally allowed back in your safe hold and you protectively hugged her before going to speak but his next action had you gasping in shock instead.

"Sir–"

The man clicked his tongue. "One little peep and you can sweep little Kiki from the hearth tomorrow morning" your eyes became glassy at his words, bottom lip wobbling. And then you inaudibly vowed upon your teddy's safety.

"S- Sorry, sir."

"See?" His breathing was labored when he stripped you of decency, spreading your legs to examine what was between them and inaudibly grunting at the sight. "That wasn't so hard now, was it, baby?" You shuddered and exhaled heavily through your mouth when his hand curved over the shape of your pussy, thumb swiping over your moist folds.

"N- No, sir." He clicked his tongue.

"You're too little for that, honey. Call me Daddy." Though questions emerged in your mind, you kept them to yourself for Kiki's sake. "Well?" He raised an eyebrow as his digit found its way to your entrance and he poked at it, the sensation causing you to jump up in shock.

But you knew better than to express it.

"... Y- Yes, Daddy…" The word felt foreign and awkward in your mouth, but the intrusion of your private areas overpowered every other feeling.

"Tell me how it feels, honey" the man's tone turned into one of coaxing as the tip of his thumb glided up and down between your folds before circling your entrance. But he kept it from invading your privates for now.

Your eyebrows were tightly furrowed together as you whined, nuzzling your face into Kiki. "W- Weird, Daddy" that seemed to please him, and he hummed in approval.

"Good girl" a loud and confused squeak escaped you when he pushed the tip of his digit up your glistening slit next.

"S–" the click of his tongue stopped you and you corrected yourself just in time. "Daddy!"

"It's okay, honey. Daddies are supposed to take care of their little babies like this" his thumb was soon replaced by his middle finger and you couldn't help but let out a moan when it began to toy with the hood of your clit now, his finger working you open all the while. "See, getting better, isn't it, angel?" It was nothing but strange for your inexperienced body. Your hips tightened but you had no idea what it meant or led to.

And the intimidating visual was not helping the puzzle.

"L- Looks so scary, Da- Daddy" your bottom lip jutted out as you sniffled, unknowingly clenching around his finger and making him twitch inside his pants in turn.

"Aw, baby" he could swear you were the most precious thing he had ever come across. "Too much for your innocent eyes to handle, is it?" He had to have you. "Daddy can help you with that" his finger plopped out of you and your hole retracted, a shudder running down your spine at both the feeling itself and the loss of contact.

A small pout made its way on your face as you snuggled into Kiki, subconsciously missing the penetration.

Bucky moved further onto his knees and grasped your naked thighs in his strong calloused hands. "Turn around for Daddy, angel" you were moved to your knees in front of him. He spread your legs apart before moving back to undo his own pants, admiring the handiwork that he had made of you all the while.

Then he told you that it would feel a bit strange at first, that it may even hurt, but then it was sure to feel good.

You panicked when he entered your narrow opening as he hissed out curses, his metal hand curling around your thigh while the other rested on your ass cheeks that it fondled every now and then.

His words that you had initially suspected turned out to be true the more he moved inside you. Your tight, warm channel of moist flesh gripped at his cock in the same way your arms bracingly choked Kiki, whines drawling their way out of your gaping mouth as you nuzzled your flushed face in her soft body, feeling a small flame ignite in the base of your stomach.

"Hnnng owwhh, Daddy!" You whined as stars clouded your vision when his thick tip hit you deep up your cavern in a certain tender spot.

"You're so fuckin' tight, angel" his breathing was laboured as his muscular thighs slapped against yours, the collision causing your skin to sting as well as fill the room with a loud clapping sound which was occasionally accompanied by a squelch or two. "It's like you were waiting for your Daddy all along, huh?" You winced when one of his hands wrapped around your hair to pull you back as gently as he could manage. "Tell me you were waiting for me to come along and fuck this pretty pussy broken" you yelped when his free hand landed a harsh smack to one of your ass cheeks. When you didn't respond, he gave a demanding yank to your head. "Don't make me repeat myself, now."

Bucky could see that you had some difficulty with carrying out orders.

So he added that to the list of the things that you would have to work on.

"I- I…" Your chest ached as you struggle to breathe, feeling your senses battle between pain and pleasure. "I w- was waiting for you to co–" your words dissolved into a moan as your form swayed under his rough fucking, "come- come, come and–!" Your fingers tightened around Kiki to brace yourself against the influx of sensation that burst out between your legs when he spanked you one last time before trailing his fingers down your pussy.

"Go ahead, baby" his lips found the crook of your neck before his sharp teeth grazed against the skin. "You're doing so well for me" your back arched when he pecked your skin right before biting down on it.

And all of a sudden, the sensory overload was too much for your fucked out mind to handle. Your hips clenched and a lava of what you could only classify as pleasure exploded between them, your vision paling and hearing becoming muffled, mouth falling open to let out raspy stomach churning moans. Suddenly, the intensity of every stimulus that had been tearing its way into your body decreased and a faint ringing swam in your ears. The skin piercing hammering of your heart morphed into heavy thumps and your body went limp as it hung from the robber's cock, being held up solely by the tangle of his arms that encircled your body.

Bucky felt himself twitch when your orgasm gave way to obedience and you guzzled out your words to fulfill your command. "W- Waz wai'ing for D- Daddy to come along and f- fuck my pussy b- broken" his curse went unheard by you due to your temporary vertigo.

"Now tell Kiki that" he had to tap one of your cheeks to bring you back to the present. "Look at Kiki and tell her that" the sternness of his words fueled the overstimulation that your core was suffering, the hypersensitivity causing you to clench hard around his girth that pounded into you at a barely registerable pace, your knees shaking uncontrollably.

"K- Kiki…" Your arms were jelly as you forced them to wobble the pink teddy up in your sight since your head was locked in place by the grip he had on your hair. "I- I…" You whined out a loud moan. "W- Waiting on D- Daddy to c- come and b- break l- little pussy o- open" the brokenness of your voice coupled with the omission of words reached out for his climax and pulled it through. Bucky loudly cursed out in between moans as he rammed into you animalistically, his seed searing into your worked up walls and coating the flesh pale.

You had never been praised the way you were that night when the man– Bucky, he told you once he had placed you in the comforting bath he drew for you, cleaned and washed you thoroughly as he pressed reassuring kisses to your tear stained cheeks. When he declared the next morning that he was moving in, you did not say much for he still intimidated you but you had your suspicions. However, as time passed and you two grew closer than ever, you realized that the transition had been much easier and natural than you had expected.

Your lover excused you from your outdoor obligations and gave you a list of rules to abide by to make sure you would well fulfill your role as the homerunner. He made a promise with you to mend his ways and he actually did it by finding himself an honest job that paid well enough for your household. Then, even though you reassured him that he could just give you your grandmother's ring to propose, he was adamant on buying you one with a big rock. One that would match the shine of your pretty eyes, he said.

In other words, everything was going well.

Yes, the beginning of your relationship had been unconventional to say the least.

But fate had a strange way of bringing people together.

That eventful night had been your share.

What did such silly things matter when the both of you loved each other so much?

That was, until one day…

. . .

"I told you, angel. I'd always find my way to you" the man speaks as he fixes his pants while keeping a vigilant eye on you.

Your mouth is wide as tears wet your cheeks like an unceasing waterfall. "Daddy…"

"Yes, Daddy" passive rage drips off his smug words. "You thought you could report me and flee the country and that'd be the end of it?"

You shake your head vehemently and sputter out all the words you can manage in your honest defense. Your labored breathing turns into sobs as you grab at his hands and plead your case desperately.

You hadn't reported him. You could never do that to your Daddy and future husband!

Not even in your worst nightmare!

What had actually happened was that you had been tending to your daily tasks as usual when some strange men with badges you did not understood had shown up to your house while he was at work. They were mean but they had not hurt you. Instead, they had thrusted all kinds of files and records in your face, saying unbelievable things about your Daddy that simply could not be true and then demanding you tell them where he worked.

But you were too little to know those things.

So they ransacked your house before one of them found a piece of paper from one of Bucky's jackets before showing it to the rest. Their boss had turned back to look at you one last time with pity in his eyes before he called someone on his phone and joined his fellow men in one of the sleek black SUVs that they had arrived in. Your Daddy had not come home that night. Instead, your sobbing mother who lived in a different city had approached you where you had been waiting for Bucky out on the front stairs of the house.

She had forced you away from your home. You kept telling her that you had to inform your Daddy of what had happened and that he never ate without you and that he would be looking for you. But your sweet mother had become a tyrant with your safety -like you needed it- and you just could not understand the hysteria until she placed you in therapy that you thought you did not need.

But when you finally did start responding to the kind lady at the funny smelling clinic, you had slowly understood your mother's manic behavior.

"... And she said you were a terrible man that I best forget all about and move on in my life, Daddy. I didn't mean to blank you out!" You finish your speech, squeezing his fingers earnestly as your eyes beg his to believe you. "I didn't want to. But they said you were bad and a criminal and, and– I didn't have a choice" you sob and shake your head desperately, the awareness of just how hurt he must have felt when you disappeared choking your heart out. "And they wouldn't listen and they kept saying that you kidnapped me and–" he doesn't interrupt you. In fact, he hasn't done much of that in the past few minutes.

But then a heavy bell goes off in your head all of a sudden and you understand why he has been quiet, the horrific realization causing your muscles to freeze and shrivel as you feel foam rising in your mouth. Your eyes widen to the shape of saucers as the pattering of your tears literally becomes audible in the quiet room. "... But… Y- You…" Your clammy fingers try to yank themselves out of his. "You… did kidnap me after…" Terror grips at your throat.

Unreadable emotion passes by his teal orbs faster than you can process. Bucky lowers his head as he restricts your hands from pulling out of his by interlocking them in an iron-strong hold. Heaving in a deep sigh, he snickers to himself humorlessly, the long strands of his hair falling over his face as his shoulders shake.

"Oh, angel" he looks up once he finally gains composure over what had turned into sneering chuckles. "You will have to relearn everything all over again, won't you?" Your body feels petrified as the graveness of the matter sears into your muscles. He tugs his gloves off before cupping your face with his metal hand. "Good thing we have the rest of our lives with no one left to trouble us this time, huh?" With a promising kiss to your lips, he pulls his mask back down and fishes another one out of his jacket before slipping it over your face. "Come on, let's go home" Bucky effortlessly hauls you onto one of his massive shoulders after he swipes your nose with his thumb on which he had poured a strange substance out of a vial. The liquid instantly numbs your mind and your eyes go heavy, not that your terrified body was moving much in the first place.

The next few things that you feel through your melting senses include Bucky pulling your tattered skirt down before giving a powerful smack to your ass, turning in the opposite direction of the way you had come here after exiting the Manager's office, descend the fire escape that he chooses to exit the building through before briefly jogging to what you figure is probably a vehicle since you hear the beeping open of a lock.

And then everything goes dark.

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