#this was made bc I was trying to find a saved gif of this moment

[personinthepalace]

My favorite Mr. Gold moment

[forever-rogue]

i saw you wanted tasm Peter requests and I’m here to provide! 😭✨💕

how about a fake dating-ish meet cute where you feel scared walking home bc of some sketchy looking people following you and you grab Peter’s (who lives in the same building as you) hand and ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend and he readily goes along with it bc he’s always had a crush on you. I just think he would be so sweet and worried later when you get home bc you’d looked super scared

AN | No but I love this idea!! It’s sort of a meet-cute!❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings | mild language

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You weren't drunk.

Not drunk-drunk anyway but mildly tipsy. Or wholly tipsy if you were being completely honest with yourself. 

Anyways, that wasn't the problem, at least not entirely. Walking home through New York, late at night and tipsy by yourself, a young woman on her own, probably wasn't the best idea. But the party had dragged on and on and your friends had already left with their…friends for the night, and you were tired, hungry, and bored.

So you decided to walk home. You somehow managed to convince yourself that brisk evening stroll would make you feel better. You hadn't been wrong for the most part but as once you got closer to your apartment building, an uneasy feeling started settling into your stomach. 

You looked around, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, but you could see that there were two guys that seemed to be watching you. You ignored it for a bit, but when you noticed that they seemed to cross every street that you could, and turned all the same corners, you grew worried. 

Trying to keep the panic at bay and act normal proved to be difficult. You thought for a moment that you might have been paranoid or overreacting but you'd seen enough true crime documents to know that it was better to be safe than sorry.

Your salvation came in the form of the man that lived in the apartment across from you. 

You vaguely knew him and were almost positive his name was Peter Parker. You just hoped right now that he'd help. 

Speeding up, you caught up to him a few moments, quickly reaching for his arm and stepping in front of him. 

“Hi, hi,” your eyes were wide and he immediately grew concerned, “I know we don't really know each but we live in the same building, you're actually across the hall from me. I - this is - can you please pretend to be my boyfriend? Just for a little bit? There's these two guys that have been following me for a while now and I'm-”

“It’s okay,” he whispered, gently cutting you off as he instinctively reached for your hand. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted as you laced your fingers through his and fell into step with him, “I'll take care of you.”

You squeezed his arm, “thank you.”

He nodded and turned around a corner to see the men you were referring to. When he spotted the duo that you had to be talking about, he shot them a warning glare. At a few moments, he could see realization cross their features before they seemingly altered their path.

He made sure to keep an eye out on the rest of the way back to the building. Luckily he didn't see them again. He hoped that they hadn't decided to go and find someone else. 

It felt like you could breathe again as you pulled your hand from his and turned to face him. You were taken aback for a moment by how beautiful he was. Sure, you'd been him around the building plenty of times before but you'd never gotten to look at him this closely. 

“Thank you,” your voice was soft - gentle - was you offered him a small smile, “I thought that maybe I was going crazy for a bit and then I kept seeing them. I just didn't want anything to happen. Thank you for probably saving me from them. It's, sorry, you're Peter, right?”

“I am,” he nodded as you offered him your hand for a proper shake and introduction. He said your name and you looked at him in surprise, “we've been neighbors a while and I just…caught it sometime. I'm glad I found you too. Are you sure you're okay?”

“I'm cold, hungry, and slightly buzzed but I'm alright,” you promised, “thanks to you. I swear I owe you big time.”

“You don't owe me anything,” he insisted as he started to shrug off his zip-up sweater. He'd noticed the dress you were wearing and wondered if you'd been cold. He held it out to you, causing you to look at him with sweet eyes, “take it. I don't want you to be cold.”

You already knew better than to argue with him so you gratefully it took and slipped it on, immediately overwhelmed by his delicious scent, “thank you, Peter.”

“Do you want to get something to eat?” He wasn't entirely sure if he'd meant to ask, but it just sort of blurted out, “I-I was thinking about ordering some pizza.”

Liar. He was a damned dirty liar. He hadn't thought about pizza but he also hadn't wanted to let you just leave to go to your apartment. Not now, not yet.

“Yeah?” Your face lit up and he nodded shyly. He'd order the whole pizzeria if you wanted just from that smile alone, “that sounds good.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Realistically, you probably shouldn't have just trusted Peter so readily, especially since you'd just had the run-in with the creeps on your walk home. But there was something about Peter that told you that he was trustworthy. 

So you didn't hesitate to follow him up the stairs to the floor where both of your apartments were. You stopped instinctively at your door and Peter paused for a moment.

“Listen, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything,” you appreciated the fact that he seemed to be able to read your mind, “do you want to meet on the fire escape once the pizza's here?”

“Yeah,” you nodded softly, “I'll see you in a little bit.”

“Sounds good,” he started to open his door but quickly turned around, “wait! I didn't even ask you what kind of pizza you like.”

Your laugh was pretty as you turned and gave him your requests. He offered you a small salute before both of you went into your respective apartments. You closed the door gently and leaned against it, letting out a small sigh.

This evening had definitely taken a turn that you hadn't been expecting. But somehow, it turned out a lot better than you had imagined. Plus, you finally got to really meet and speak to the cute boy next door. He'd caught your eye from the moment he'd moved into the building, but you'd never quite managed to work up the courage to say anything besides the neighborly hello here and there. And now…now you were wearing his sweater and going to have pizza with him.

You almost danced to your bedroom and spent entirely too much time trying to pick out something comfortable but cute. You wanted to be warm and cozy but didn't want to look like you were trying too hard.

You ended up settling on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, but pulled Peter's sweater back on. You wanted to hang onto it for as long as possible. You managed to slide on your slippers as you heard a knock on your door.

“Pull yourself together,” you hissed at your reflection, “and act normal…somewhat normal.”

Slowing your walk to the door, you opened it in an attempt to look casual. Peter had the same idea and had changed into a pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. You almost choked on your spit at the sight. What a bastard.

“Ready for some pizza?” You nodded as you followed him towards the fire escape at the end of the hall. He slid open the window and stepped out, offering you his hand to help you. You didn't hesitate to take his hand, trying not think too much about his large his hand was compared to yours, “nice sweater by the way.”

“You better watch it or I'm going to steal it forever,” Peter really liked the sound of your laugh. He wanted to bottle it up and keep it with him forever. 

“Keep it,” he insisted sweetly, “looks better on you anyway.”

“Stop,” you groaned as you sat down, gently pushing his side, “that's how you get a girl to call in love with you.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow as his cheeks pinked, “is it working then?”

He didn't know why he felt so bold or what had gotten into him but he was feeling something. Maybe it was just your magnetic presence but there was something about you that made him feel so warm and comfortable.

“Peter,” you weren't about to admit that the answer was yes so you just scoffed and rolled your eyes playfully, “I should have said makes all other girls fall in love.”

“Mhmm,” he opened the pizza box and nudged angled it towards you, “dig in. I hope you like it because it's from one of my favorite places.”

“It better be good then or I'm afraid I'll never speak to you again,” you teased, grabbing a slice and taking a big bite. Peter watched you with an amused as you quickly realized that this was indeed delicious pizza. You quickly finished the rest of the slice before offering him a nod, “alright you've passed this test. The pizza is delicious.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“It's getting pretty late,” you said softly as you looked at the softly glowing screen of your phone. It was a lot later than you had realized; the two of you had ended up talking for hours, the pizza all but gone, “we should probably head inside.”

“Yeah,” he agreed reluctantly, “you're right.”

“I had a good time though,” you promised as he nodded shyly, “thanks for saving me tonight…and all of this. It's times like this that remind me that not all people are terrible.”

“It's no problem,” he insisted, “I'm glad I was there when you needed me. I had a good time tonight, regardless of how we got here.”

“Me too,” you offered his shoulder a squeeze before heading back inside and waiting for him to do the same, “I'll see you around, Peter.”

“See you around,” the two of you went into your respective apartments and you quietly shut the door, trying to hold in your sounds of excitement. Your night had taken a complete 180 but you weren't complaining. You'd been wanting to meet the boy for the last couple of years and now that you'd gotten to spend some time with him, you only wanted more.

The question then was - how do you spend more time with Peter Parker without making it obvious you might have fallen in love with him?

You’d figured that out sometime later. Right now you were going to soak all of the good feelings you had into your body as you went to bed.

Little did you know that just across the hall, Peter was doing the exact thing. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You tried to run into Peter after that evening whenever you could. You would slowly leave for work in the morning and then take your sweet time coming home in the hopes that you would run into him somewhere in the building. But over the next couple of weeks, you managed to have no luck. It suddenly seemed like he had an opposite schedule of yours. For a moment you wondered if it was on purpose, but you knew that he wouldn’t do that.

Peter was hoping for the same thing; work and his…extracurricular activities kept him busier than ever. He had to be at the lab early in the mornings and often wasn’t coming home till the midnights hours. There were a few times when he’d contemplated knocking on your door, even if he just got to see your pretty face for a few moments. But he didn’t want to disturb you so he kept on waiting for the right moment to see you again. 

It turned out that the right moment happened to be when you were getting ready to go out with some friends one evening and Peter was coming home, looking run down and tired. His face and entire being lit up at the sight of you. Your heart was beating so fast that you were sure that he would be able to hear it (unbeknownst to you, he definitely heard it) or it would burst out of your chest. 

“Hey-”

“Hi-” the two of you spoke at the same time before looking at each other sheepishly. You felt like your entire face was on fire as you looked at your feet for a moment to study your nerves, “hey Peter. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I know,” he tried to contain his excitement when he realized that you had been missing him as well, “I can’t believe our luck. For years we saw each other all the time and now…nothing. Kind of feels like the universe is laughing at us.”

“I thought about coming over,” you admittedly sheepishly, “but I didn’t want to bug you. I wasn’t sure how you late you were working or…yeah.”

“I thought about the same thing,” he confessed as you grinned at him, “but I’ve been working longer hours so I’d get home late and didn’t want to bother you.”

“You wouldn’t have been a bother,” you shrugged it off, trying to make it seem like no big deal when in fact it was a huge deal.

“Good to know,” he huffed a small laugh before clearing his throat, “I should, ugh, let you go. I don’t want to keep you from your date or whatever plans you have.”

“It’s not a date,” you said quickly, wanting to shut that train of thinking down right away, “I was just going to meet a few friends for dinner and drinks.”

“Cool,” he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved to hear that, “I hope you have fun.”

“Unless you’re not busy and want to get dinner,” you only had a bit of courage left as you got the words, wondering how he’d react, “like together I mean.”

“I’m not busy, I’m free,” his stomach felt like it was doing backflips, “but are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll just text my friends,” you waved your hand dismissively as you pulled out your phone, “they won’t mind. Trust me.”

They really wouldn’t. They’d been hoping and rooting for you to get with the pretty boy next door for some time now. 

“Cool,” that was an understatement, “let me just go and change and then we can go. I’ll come to yours in a few minutes.

“Okay,” you breathed nervously, unable to hide the smile on your face.

“Okay,” he agreed softly, his eyes and smile big and pretty, “luckily this time it’ll only be a few minutes and not weeks.”

“It was too long.”

“Definitely.”

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: 8:45 PM 🔞

Tags/Warnings: Adult, smut-heavy, making out, Idol!Jungkook, Fluff, Established Relationship, implied foreigner!Reader, not home AU though, Jungkook struggling hard, misunderstanding, angst with happy end, emotional smut, oral (fem. Receiving), protected sex bc this is me writing this and I teach you kids the true life lessons

Lenght: long.

AU-Masterlist

Languages are marked as English / Korean.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

He still can't believe your first time got interrupted by something as ridiculous as his manager calling him.

It's like a reminder that his career will always somehow wiggle itself between him and whatever happiness he tries to find outside of it- nothing ever truly personal for him, everything always meant to be well thought through so it fits into his public persona.

But he refuses to give you up, even knowing all of that.

Apologizing for it just feels.. odd now, like bringing up something awkward you did ten years ago that everyone forgot about anyway before you decided to rekindle the memory in their heads. But the problem here, right now, with you, is that he knows he should bring it up. Somehow. Because he's struggling hard to keep himself in check, even having had to embarrassingly rub one out in the shower this morning after you'd made yourself tea in his kitchen wearing nothing but a shirt and panties.

It's a problem.

He's hesitating to initiate anything now mainly because what if it happens again? He can't just put his phone on silent and ignore what could potentially always be very important calls from people who only want what's best for him in the long run- real life doesn't work like those movies where the protagonist throws it all away for his girl. He wants to, he truly does- but at the end of the day, he's also scared, because if he falls, he'll potentially take you down with him, and God knows how deep he'll fall with where he stands right now.

A drop from a height this high would shatter you inevitably, and he's sure he'd crack like delicate porcelain just as much by having to watch you suffer the consequences of his actions. You don't deserve that.

"..-ungkookie?" You try again, and he snaps out of his thought, looking at you.

"Hm?" He responds, looking at you next to him.

"I asked if you want me to cook for us tonight. Is that alright?" You wonder, and he nods, eagerly so, because of course he'd love to have you do something so domestic with him. He's always dreamed of being able to experience these things after all, despite his curse of being a public figure who's not supposed to appear unavailable. "Alright-!" You hum. "Gonna have to put pants on now though, gotta go get some groceries.." you whine under your breath as you stretch on the couch naked feet pushing against his thighs and oh, how your back arches-

No, bad brain. Not right now.

"I'll give you my card, hold on." He tries to save himself, getting up to fetch his wallet as you begin to laugh.

"Jungkook baby, I can cover some groceries, don't bother!" You argue softly, getting up as well before walking over to him. "You'll just have to survive some minutes without me, that's all." You tell him, hugging his middle as you put your chin on his chest, looking up at him. "Also, people would think I'm a gold digger for using a black card looking like.. well, me." You joke, as he can't help but reach out to affectionately brush some hair out your face, hands holding your cheeks.

"M'sorry." He mumbles, and you part a bit from him, serious at his tone of voice used.

"Hm? For what?" You wonder, and he sighs. Why did he bring it up now? This is going to be so awkward, he already dreads it. But now that he's put the noose around his neck, he might as well stand on the chair too.

"Yesterday. Or.. day before? Technically it was, wasn't it.." he rants, before sighing. "I hate that we.. had moment, you know, and then.. nothing. Ruined." He complains softly, and you can't help but look at him affectionately. He's such a soft soul sometimes, worries about so much that doesn't even need to be worried about.

"Jungkook, it's fine." You answer.

"Not fine-" he shakes his head. "Not fine, I- ugh, I want you, you know? Want to, but now, it's awkward and I don't know how to initiate it because every time I plan to I keep thinking of that moment he called and-" he groans in frustration, head thrown back before he looks down at you. "I'm sorry." He apologizes yet again, and you laugh.

"I forgot to pack socks for this trip, that's why I'm always barefoot in your apartment here." You say, and he blinks once, twice, before he looks at you, confused but amused the same.

"What?" He questions, tilting his head for a split second and you shrug.

"Now I've made an awkward moment for myself too. We're even." You explain, and he laughs.

"Thats not how that works-" he wants to argue but he inevitably leans down to kiss you- a peck quickly deepened by you, because God knows you want him just as much. But the struggle of initiating isn't solely his alone, because you don't know how to either. All is still new with your relationship, you don't even live together at this point in time, only a week more and you'll be back home trying to figure out how to move most of your stuff to his country so you can be closer. This was all a test, after all- to see if it's worth it. If you'll be okay.

And you know now, you'll be just fine with him at your side.

"Hm I need to get going now though-" you say, trying to escape him now- but he won't let you, hands firm on the small of your back as he keeps you against him, lips chasing yours making you giggle as you lean back as far as you can. "Jungkook!" You laugh, but he just playfully bites at your neck.

"No, I'm hungry." He mumbles against your skin, and you look at him, pushing against his chest.

"Yeah that's why I have to go? Get everything to cook?" You remind him, but he shakes his head, gaze making it clear that he doesn't care for that.

"Not.. that." He tells you. "Hungry for you." He says, raising his brows and you laugh at how ridiculous he's being. How can he be both so cute but also attractive at the same time? It's truly unfair.

"You're so cute." You tease, catching him off guard to escape his grasp and run into the bedroom to get some proper pants at least. But he's faster, palm slapping flat against the wood of his door before the momentum of his move slams it into the wall with a loud noise, making both of you jump for a second before he stalks towards you.

And once the backs of your legs hit the edge of his bed, you know you lost.

It's like his patience had finally snapped, his hands eagerly helping you out of his shirt, happily running his palms over your skin, warm and soft as you move around a bit to get comfortable. He sighs when his phone vibrates somewhere close- probably having fallen out of his pocket on the couch earlier, and you laugh, visibly uncaring of his misery. "Go get it." You tell him when it sounds again, and he groans out loudly as if he's in pain, angrily stomping back into the living room, where you can hear him answer the call with an annoyed tone to his voice. It surprises you when he walks back into the bedroom however, pointing to the shirt you're attempting to put back on, before he motions for you to put it back on the floor where he'd thrown it down earlier.

Just what is he thinking right now?

"Yeah, that's fine." He talks into the phone, his free hand untying the strings of your sweatpants, before he pulls on the hem, tapping your hips as if to silently ask you to lift them so he can get you out of those pants. "Not right now, but tomorrow is fine." He continues to talk to whomever is speaking to him over the phone, while simultaneously running his hand from the side of your knee, up to the hem of your underwear, the last item of clothing covering you at the moment. It's oddly exciting to see him so serious, yet clearly more focused on you than anything else.

You've never felt so adored before.

His fingers slip underneath the side of your panties, teasing you, so close yet way too far from where you'd like his hands to be most right now. And he's clearly aware of it too; if the hooded eyes and the small smirk on his lips was anything to go by. "No, right now.. I'm pretty busy. Sorry." He speaks again into the phone, thumb running over the dip between your inner thigh and your by now more than aching heat. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip for a second, before the whole thing visibly seems to edge him just as much- then tent in his pants evident.

"Alright, yeah, just- text the schedule to me and I'll talk to you tomorrow about it, okay?" He offers into the phone, moving to stand up and search for something in the drawer of his bedside table- colorful foil package pretty obviously hinting at what he means when he's said he's currently busy. "Alright, hmhm, yup- bye." He rushes out, ending the call before he throws his phone somewhere onto the shirt you'd been wearing, his eyes rolling in an annoyed manner before he takes off his own shirt, joining you on the bed.

"Did you really hang up on him like that?" You wonder, giggling when he has to sit back to slip out of his loose grey sweats as well, jumping on one foot for a bit as his other gets stuck in the fabric for a second.

"I'm not sorry." He shakes his head, crawling closer to you on the mattress to get a hold of both sides of your panties. "I've got my hot girlfriend all pretty and ready, no one can ever blame me for being needy." He shrugs, shaking his hair out of his face before he tries to pull your underwear off. "Hey come on now!" He whines almost, a stark contrast to the tattooed, muscled appearance of him currently already flushed and fully erect, straining against the cotton of his own underwear.

"Needy." You tease, and suddenly, as if you'd pushed a button, as he suddenly pulls on the fabric with more determination, successfully getting rid of the item of clothing with a gaze that screams fake innocence. Jungkook isn't new to sex, and neither are you- but it's the first time doing it with each other, which naturally places a bit of pressure onto you.

Or maybe it usually should be like that- because somehow, it all comes naturally.

When his hand finds your heat, you're already melting underneath his gaze, no words spoken as he leans further over you, catching your lips again. Only that this time, he truly seems hungry; no longer offering you fleeting pecks but desperate kisses that try and convey just how much he wants you right now. He knows that he could never truly make it clear to you though- because he himself doesn't even know if that's possible.

He's never wanted anyone so bad.

And while usually not too fond of it, his need to prove himself as the perfect lover- emotionally and physically- makes him detach himself from you for a second, before he adjusts his position, leaning down to have you lay your legs over his shoulders, hands holding your thighs apart as he lays his mouth onto your heat.

It's an entirely new experience for you, and he knows.

But luckily, if your Impatient whining was anything to go by, you're definitely enjoying yourself as he flattens his tongue over your sensitive nerves, eyes focused on you while he has to use a little strength to keep your legs apart, especially when you grow close to your first orgasm. He's eager to see it, moving away to gain a better view before one of his hands finishes the job, gaze on you as you arch your back and come undone from his actions.

And its now that he really can't take it any longer.

"Fuck I need you." He curses under his breath, finally getting rid of the last item of clothing he still had on until now, no need to give his length any form of help to get ready for you. He can't help but groan a little under his breath at how sensitive he feels, rushing the act of wrapping the condom over as to not rile himself up too much.

After all, he wants to be inside you for his own orgasm, no matter what.

"Hm I'll go slow, ok?" He asks, and you nod, hands reaching out for him, making him chuckle. "You're cute." He comments, earning a roll of your eyes in return. He lets it go for now- giving you a pass this time, but only because be truly feels needy now.

He'd love to tease you a little, make you all whiny and desperate for him, but right now, he just wants you as close as he physically can get.

Though in his haste to get onto his own road towards pleasure, he never forgets you- pride swelling as he watches you hold onto him, wanting him just as much as he wants you. He's a little sweaty already, and the sheetsbare tangled badly at this point from all your squirming, arousal already staining some parts of them but right now he really can't bring himself to care.

He uses one of his hands to aid him in finding your entrance, positioning himself to carefully push himself inside, and at this point, he just feels as if he truly became one with you. It's the last key experience in a way he's had to have with you, and now that he's in exactly that moment, things start to feel real.

"I love you." He almost whispers into your neck while he starts to move. "I'm.. so grateful you're here." He tells you, hips moving at a steady pace. "I want you to.. stay forever." He almost asks, in a way, and while you can't give him an answer to that right now, you probably will later.

After you're back with the normal thinking human beings, because right now, with his pace and strength gaining as he chases his high, your head is definitely unable to form thoughts.

In a way, he loves the sight of you like this. It's awfully sinful, a sight only he wants to ever be able to see, no one else.

He can't control his own noises at this point, uncaring of his groans of pleasure as he chases after his peak, noticing you growing antsy as well, visibly eager to cum as well. And he will make sure you'll get your attention as well- he'd never let you down, ever.

And with his hand reaching in between you both to find where he needs to be, you're gone and out; head thrown back into the pillows while he pushes himself in deep, condom filling with his seed while he slows down into almost no movement at all.

Catching his breath, he leans down to you to kiss you once more, ticking of his clock on the bedside table coming back into the background noise, as well as the cars outside from the opened window, and your breathing underneath him. His senses return one by one as he pulls himself out, moving to get rid of the condom and start the shower.

"Come on." He asks, tapping your thigh, but you just whine all grumpy at him. "Noo get up, get up- the bed's all messy and we're too.!" He laughs, all energized from his own afterglow, while you seem to be the exact opposite, having to be physically pulled into a sitting position by your wrists. Jungkook himself can't help but simply laugh, before he takes matters into his own hands, lifting you up over his shoulder-

And of course, landing a loud smack onto your butt for good measure.

[nonexistent-introvert]

History

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Content: the usual narcos stuff and Javier, smoking, childhood friends , drifting, angst?, and some fluffy memories

A/N: this wrote itself. Everything was spontaneous. It started from wanting to write a young Javier to something else entirely. It's probably a mess bc of that.

The series of photos displayed in the Peña’s household was like a personal journey for you too. Most of the photos were of Javier and you. Each memory replayed in your head as you slowly dusted the pictures off. 

==================================

  You watched bitterly when Javier was on stage being awarded for being top in the cohort.  “Why the look cariño?” Javier sat down beside you, a teasing grin on his face. You rolled your eyes at him, flipping the certificate in your hand over to hide it from him. Javier laughed lightly. “Sooo, I guess I was the one who got the last laugh.” Taking the certificate from your hand to reveal the words “second in cohort” 

   “I think they already saved a seat for you.” Your eyes turned to the girls sitting a few rows behind you. The exact moment he glanced behind, a series of giggles and squeals erupted from behind making your blood boil even more. “But I already have the perfect seat next to you.” Javier simply replied. You clicked your tongue in response when he nudged you lightly while turning his whole body in your direction. “Smile” he muttered into your ear, placing his hand over your chair. The bright flash of the camera shone in your face before you could hide the smile and blush upon leaning against Javier’s arm. 

   You weren’t so immune to his charms after all.

—----------------------------------------

   It was a lie when you told your friends that the scenery was prettier on this side of campus. Your eyes gravitated towards Javier who was with his friends. He was the reason why you hovered around this part of the school while wearing your graduation outfit, trying to find the courage to take a picture with him despite being friends since childhood. You really shouldn’t be so nervous around him, you never were for the past decades of your life. 

   You swallowed your feelings when you watched a group of girls approach him, hoping to take a picture with the heartthrob of your school. Javier took a few pictures out of politeness, then his eyes suddenly caught yours across the field. You turned your head so fast away that you could have sworn you stretched a muscle. Your hand reached the back of your neck to slowly massage at the sore spot. Javier smirked knowingly, excusing himself from the girls despite the disappointed sighs that came after. 

   “You were checking me out.”

   “Fuck off Javier.” You walked away from him while he came jogging up next to you. “I definitely saw you looking at me.” He insisted. “I was staring off into the distance.” You defended, Javier smirked. “Staring directly into my eyes you mean.” He teased, watching as you sucked in your cheeks in an attempt to stop the blush. “Go back to your fanclub.” you shooed.

   “Ah so this is where you kids are at.” The sound of Chucho’s familiar voice made your eyes lit up. “Chucho!” You greeted the man who was practically a second father to you. “Quickly, the both of you. It’s a once in a lifetime photo available only today.” Chucho gestured with his arms. Javier easily closed the distance between the both of you, bending down slightly. His eyes widened slightly when you wrapped your arm around his neck. Javier quickly recovered and erased the distance between the both of you when he placed his hand on your waist and pulled you closer. 

   You gasped when you felt his arms behind your legs. Before you knew it, your arms was wrapped around his neck for safety as he lifted you from the ground. “This is so embarrassing.” You muttered to him, hiding your face from the crowd who was curious to who Javier was bridal carrying. “Take it as a graduation gift to me.” He whispered.

  His brown eyes twinkled in the picture while your smile was so big that your eyes turned into smiley lines. 

==========================

   You were there when he was promoted to sheriff. You were still his friend when he dated Lorraine. You were the first person he told that he finally could achieve his dreams of getting out of the small town he was condemned to live in. You were the one who pointed out that he couldn’t have it all in life, and that he had to make the choice between Lorraine and the DEA. 

   Javier congratulated you when he found out you were studying medicine. He was the one who spent the long nights with you when you studied, making you recite the possible treatments and symptoms to the neverending information you had to study. He was the one who let you hold onto him while he drove you around in the motorcycle that he bought despite Chucho’s protests. Javier was also the one who sent you off overseas to pursue your studies at the airport with a handsome grin and a promise to see you again soon. 

  It has been almost a decade since you last talked to him. 8 years to be exact. The last time you had seen him was when he saw you off at the airport. You gently traced the patches on the jacket that you’re wearing, the jacket that he had given to you at the airport. It was his favorite jacket, the brown leather jacket with his favorite basketball team logo patch sewn onto it. It had become your go-to jacket over the years, subconsciously, it also reminded you of him.

==============================

   “If any man hits on you, tell them you’re wearing you’re wearing your boyfriend’s jacket.” “And why should I?” You replied. “Becuase you said you were gonna marry me.” You furrowed your eyebrows at him, sure you may have had a crush on him but he never found out right? 

    “So you tell that casually to every guy? You don’t seem to remember.” Javier looked at you with his hands at his hips. “I bet you’re just lying anyways.” You shrugged. His eyes widened as he reached into his small shoulder bag and pulled out a picture. He let out a whistle as he flicked the corner of the picture to prove a point. Your jaw dropped when you saw the picture. 

  A young Javier that was no older than 7 stood beside a young you. His hand held tightly onto yours. On your ring finger was a light blue plastic ring. A blush tinted your cheeks while you smiled shyly. Javier’s head was tilted to the side as he pecked you on the cheek. 

   “Scratch the boyfriend part. I’m practically your husband.” Javier’s voice snapped you out of the daydream you were having, trying your best to remember that moment. You lifted your ring finger at him, mimicking a middle finger. “As you can see, my ring finger is bare. Must have finally realised I had shit taste.” You joked. He simply gave you an amused look, “Whatever you say hermosa. I know some part of your heart wishes that we can remake that photo but this time, we can have a real shiny ring with a legal document.” 

   “You wish,”

   “Don’t miss me too much cariño.” 

====================

  “Many people thought I had a daughter.” Chucho suddenly appeared beside you. “You’re in practically every photo. Not that I’m complaining. Javier and you were integral to each other’s lives.” You awkwardly nodded your head in acknowledgment. It was true that he was a big part of your life, especially your childhood but it has been a whole 8 years. You weren’t even sure how he looked like now or was he still the same person who made you laugh through your worst times. 

   It wasn’t like you didn’t keep up with him. You still read the news, paid extra attention when the news brought up anything DEA related. Sometimes you’ll catch a few mentions of his name and split seconds of traces of him in the background of photos. You stared at him through the picture that he had taken with your parents along with Chucho when he came back a few years back for his cousin’s wedding while you were stationed for an overseas conference. 

   At the end of the day, you refused to dwell over Javier Peña. You wanted the best for him simply because he was a big part of your life. You are proud of him. The part of you who wanted to get together with him romantically faded into the shadows over time. 

   “You know what they guess next?” You tilted your head in confusion. Chucho’s words was a blur as you fell into your own thoughts.

  “Everyone thought you are my daughter-in-law.” Chucho gestured to the series of photos that featured both you and Javier. He pointed at the picture of young him and young you with a ring around your finger. His finger then moved to the picture where Javier was bridal carrying you. “I would like to think these photos are the reason why people thought so.” You shook your head. “We’re just friends, maybe even less than that.” Chucho’s smile faded ever so slightly as his eyes studied you. You looked away, pretending to dust the other items on the shelf. Chucho’s gaze felt awfully similar to Javier’s. 

   “He hasn’t forgotten bout you, you know?” You hummed, acting nonchalant. “He calls back on those rare occasions. I can tell he went through some stuff. But he… he asks about me and then there’s always this silence. This silence where he contemplates asking about you and when he eventually does, I wouldn’t know what to reply him.”  Chucho explained. “I’m fine Chucho.” You assured. “I know you are. That’s what I tell him. But you know Javi, he doesn’t want to hear that when it comes to you, he wants updates about you. If you’re eating well, how you’re doing as a doctor now.” Chucho explained further. 

    “Chucho, it has been 8 years. I definitely don’t mean as much to him anymore.” You said, staring at the happy smiles on the pictures. Your heart used to ache at this realisation. Now, your heart just feels numb. 

   “Javier’s coming back. For good this time.” Chucho announced instead. You chuckled, knowing Javier’s personality, it would probably take a few months before he’s off scrambling out of town again. Eager to make bigger contributions. 

  “Papi! Im Home.” 

  That voice was enough to make your blood still. Only just realizing the trap that you had fallen into. Chucho never asked for help, it was always you volunteering to help him with the farm. You should have caught on when he decided to call you over on a weekend, weekends which he always deemed as “time to rest and spend time with people who matter”  

   You knew exactly when Javier’s gaze fell upon you. When his words trailed off and the sound of his heavy footsteps came to a stop. The faint smell of smoke was still on him. 

   “You didn’t forget her did you?” Chucho teased his son. He shook his head quickly, “I-“ Javier muttered out your name, his hand extending before he quickly retracted it and pretended to run his hand through his hair instead. You smiled softly, at least you weren’t the only one who was at wits end. 

====================

   You were sitting with Javier opposite you, watching as he devoured the dishes you had helped Chucho cook. Chucho said something about “forgetting to feed the horses” and left the both of you alone. Both of you knew he was lying, Chucho was a creature of habit, he lived every day through a planned schedule that had worked for him for decades. The chances of him forgetting a task were zero to none. 

  “What are you doing here?” Javier awkwardly started, taking a mouthful of water from the glass you had placed beside him. “Chucho called me to help.” Javier ducked his head down to hide the smile, he knew what his father was up to. Chucho was trying to play Cupid. 

   “You smoke now.” It was a curt and simple sentence. A sentence that carried hints of disappointment. Javier glanced at you for a while, the distance that had grown between the both of you was evident. He was a fool that he could come back and you guys would be just like when you were kids. You would be reprimanding him if you knew back then, calling him an idiot to pay the price of health in return for a few moments of ecstasy. All he got now was a simple statement. 

   “I’m sorry.” He apologised, “I was supposed to quit, didn’t want Chucho worrying.” A small reason was also because he knew how much you despised smoking. You shrugged, pulling out a lighter from your pockets. Your initials were on it. “I can’t judge. But I would still advise you against it. As a friend and a doctor.” Javier's eyes widened, he shouldn’t be surprised. 8 years is a long enough time to change anyone. 

  “Had a shitty period of time. Was lucky I never got addicted or anything. But I guess I got quite attached to the lighter.” Javier wanted to ask, he wanted to know what had happened. He held his tongue back, it wasn’t his place to ask, not anymore. “I thought I’ll see you at the wedding.” Javier changed the topic. You fidgeted with your lighter, watching the flames dance. “I was at an overseas conference.” Javier hated it, hated the small talk. He wanted to listen to you talk for hours on end, rambling on small details that you thought no one cared about. 

   There was something different in the air as you sat opposite him. He wasn’t the Javier Peña you knew back then, he wasn’t the same person in those pictures you were just admiring moments ago. He was more like DEA agent Peña. The man who had a cold exterior, a constant scowl on his face and the worry lines that decorated his eyes. His eyes had lost its shine, the eyes that used to twinkle whenever he smiled, it was no longer as bright. He didn’t smile as easily either. “Oh your jacket.” You removed the jacket that was on your shoulders, the jacket that you wore everywhere, the one which you wore to sleep when there were times when you missed home. Javier immediately waved his hands, “Keep it cariño. You had it for so long already.” He argued. Javier always called you Spanish nicknames, you wondered if he did the same to other girls. You were once special to these nicknames but you doubted you were anymore. 

   Javier squared his shoulders, laughing a little as he stared at the jacket that was once his favourite. “ I don’t even think I fit in it anymore.” He pointed out. You studied the jacket that you held in your hands, laughing along with him. “You’re right.” The jacket no longer fits him anymore, it was still a little oversized for you but it was not even an option for him anymore. Javier’s shoulders have grown wider, he had grown taller even if you thought that was impossible then. The height difference between the both of you had grown more. 

   “Everything’s changed.” You commented. Javier hummed, “8 years is a really long time.” Your heart paced a little when he stared intensely at you. In a desperate attempt to get away from his stare, you changed the topic again. It seems to be what you and Javier always do anyways. “Yeah it is, Lorraine got a whole family now.” You should feel bad for mentioning her. Javier wasn’t a bad person, at least not to you. Despite not talking to him after he had called you telling you he didn’t want to get married, you still knew he lived in guilt everyday for leaving her at the aisle. 

    “Yeah, she deserved it. Deserved better than I can ever give to her.” Javier finished his drink, using the water to drown the guilt that was forming. He should have never dated Lorraine. He was an asshole for doing that, he don’t think he truly loved her. She was simply there for him when he needed someone. It was the time when you had left for university overseas. When he was swamped with work as he did his best to earn the opportunity to leave. Lorraine was there for him and supported him, even when Chucho himself didn’t support Javier becoming a sheriff, being part of the danger. 

    Your eyes fell onto the series of photos on the shelf again. Your heart sank ever so slightly. No matter how much both of you tried to deny it, the fact that both of you have changed was undeniable. That he was no longer the Javier you remembered and nor were you the person he remembered. Life events that changed and impacted both of you, not to mention the 8 years that flew by with no contact. You used to talk to him with ease, the both of you could spend the whole day together and still hog the landline at home when you eventually had to leave each other’s company. Now, the conversation topics were scarce and the tension was constantly in the air. The small talk that ended within a few sentences was enough proof. If you told this to your younger self, she would laugh in your face and call you a liar. 

      “I’ll get going now. You enjoy your time back.” You announced. Javier's eyes widened, if it was back then he would openly tell you that he didn’t want you to leave and make you promise that you would call him when you get home. Now, however, he opened his mouth but nothing came, he didn’t know what to do to make you stay. “I-I’m back for good.” He said instead. You raised your hands as you wore his old jacket again, “Mm, I heard.” You made no signs of stopping, no sign that you would stay and continue talking to him. 

    “It was nice seeing you again Javier.” You told him. Javier shifted from one foot to another. 

   “I’ll see you around right?” He asked, it was a small town after all. 

   “If fate lets us.” You mutter back to him, your mind on the information you had just received two days prior. 

   An offer was made, an offer for you to leave. To work in the big city in the hospital. A hospital with better facilities and better pay. They even had a lab to run their own tests, you no longer needed to wait for days just to receive your test results back after sending them to another hospital and no waking up at the break of dawn to travel to the secluded hospital that you worked at now. It was a good opportunity, one that you would be a fool to refuse. 

  The biggest decision was that you would be leaving the place you grew up in. You would be leaving Javier Peña again. Especially when he had just decided to return home. 

   Fate always seemed to work against the both of you. 

   With one final glance at the photos, you sighed. You would forever be thankful to Javier for creating your favourite memories, the memories that you looked back on when you had a tough day and smile. A part of your heart would forever be his, the boy who you wanted to marry as a kid and the boy you had a crush on through your teenage years. 

   You stared at the handsome man who now stood before you as you wore your shoes at his door. The man that had changed so much but still possessed qualities of the boy you knew like the back of your hand. It was selfish, to not tell him that there was a high possibility that you would accept the offer to move away. 

    What he doesn’t know wouldn’t hurt him right? 

    “Bye Javier.” 

    “See you.” 

    That was how the long chapter of your life came to an end. The fairytale dream starring Javier as your prince charming. You hoped that he gets everything he ever wanted but for you to move on, you also hoped that you never hear about it. He was once your best friend and your other half but now he was merely a long lost friend, a familiar stranger. 

   In a blink of an eye, everything has changed. 

[genocidehim]

Can you make a part 2 for nacho falling in love with Lalo’s wife!!!

PS: I loved the first one 💙💙

TROPHY WIFE

part. 1 here

notes: Keep in mind that this part is directly related to bcs and the episode of Something Unforgivable, the facts will try to be as canon as possible, but I will change a lot of things. words: 2143

"Hay un portón en la parte de atrás del lugar de Salamanca. A las tres de la mañana esta noche quítale el candado. Ábrelo, lárgate de ahí"

Nacho spent the whole day pondering the instructions given in that unknown call. He knew they were direct orders from Fring, and he sensed that he would do something when Lalo was more vulnerable, and his house was the perfect place. Nacho seemed to agree with that plan and even looked forward to the night, but there was a major inconvenience: You were in the house along with a bunch of other innocent people.

No matter what Nacho said or asked, he knew he wouldn't have a chance to get you out of that situation because, unfortunately, you were also a Salamanca and a potential victim of Fring's plans.

Even though you and Nacho had only had some silly flirting and slightly heated words, neither of you believed the other was interested, so there was only a sort of odd friendship between you. But you had already wormed your way into Nacho's heart, and he was enchanted by you.

He was restless throughout the day as he thought and thought about that situation. He couldn't find a fair solution that would only involve Lalo's death and not yours. He trembled with fear at the mere thought of you getting hurt because of Fring's plans, and the fear of you dying was much stronger than Nacho's desire to see Lalo dead.

Nacho needed to find a quick solution, and as the sky grew darker, he felt panic and dread flood his body.

"What ghost did you see? You're all shaky." you said as you approached Nacho and gave him a big smile.

Nacho had been lost in his own world since morning and hadn't noticed that you had just returned from the horse stable. You were slightly sweaty from taking care of the horses all morning.

"I think I'm just a little hot. It's quite sunny today" Nacho managed to look good, but he had that worried face as always.

"In Albuquerque it's not sunny or what? Man... you're a softie, you need to get some good sun in Mexico".

Nacho felt his heart beat faster as he saw how your relationship had become so strong and trusting. He adored how you treated him so naturally and enjoyed your sincere words. He couldn't imagine not hearing from you again; he didn't want to.

"I'll have time to get used to it."

Before you could respond with a tease, Lalo's voice in the distance caught both of your attention. "¡Ignacio, ven y ayúdame a reparar una cosa por acá!"

"I'm sorry, Lalo needs me..."

"It's okay, go," you smiled in response, but before he left, you took his arm and held him back for a second. "Lalo will have dinner at the house tonight... You should come down and eat with us. I'd like to have you at dinner."

The way you looked at him made Nacho's heart melt, and guilt struck harder in his chest.

"I will. Save a seat for me next to you."

Nacho bid you goodbye for the moment and went to help Lalo with cleaning the engine of his Montecarlo while trying to keep his mind clear and come up with an effective solution for what would happen that night.

It was already quite late, almost two-thirty in the morning, when Nacho remained awake and on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He was desperate and paced back and forth in the kitchen, debating whether he should continue with the plan or sabotage everything. But it was impossible for him to think clearly when he knew that if he didn't act quickly, he would die that night too.

Nacho decided to stick to the plan and open the gate of the house. He managed to cut a tin can and took small pieces to pick the lock. After checking the time on the kitchen clock, Nacho headed to the backyard, and before he could react, he found himself face to face with Lalo in front of the bonfire, drinking a beer. Ignacio sweated and hid the pieces of tin in his pockets when he saw Lalo invite him to sit beside him.

"Take a seat."

Nacho sat on the wooden chair next to the bonfire, feeling his heart pound forcefully in his chest. Lalo grabbed a beer and offered it to him, looking somewhat calmer than usual.

"Are you still hungry?" Lalo spoke with a playful tone in his voice.

"No, it was a good dinner" Ignacio replied as he took a sip of the beer and tried to loosen the knot in his throat.

Lalo laughed in response and kept watching Nacho with some joy in his eyes. He was really starting to like him.

"She really knows how to keep a man at the table, huh?" Lalo mentioned you, and something inside Nacho made him feel awful knowing that you were asleep upstairs. "I never understood why she enjoys having dinner together so much, but if it makes her happy, well…"

Nacho couldn't understand how Lalo was incapable of understanding you. Was his ego so big that it prevented him from seeing beyond his own desires? It was obvious that you enjoyed having dinner with everyone for the feeling of being in someone's company.

"She must be a family-oriented woman…"

"She was like that when I first met her, but I think she no longer sees her family... They hate her for marrying a narco. Ugh, son puras pendejadas de la plebe" Lalo revealed as he scratched his mustache with his finger, apparently feeling confident enough to talk to Nacho about you.

Lalo wasn't even aware that you had no contact with your family because of him, and he had no interest in acknowledging that simple fact. He probably imagined that you were fine with the whole situation.

"She's somewhat lonely" Lalo continued. "I'm not complaining. She's quite intelligent and a good wife. I couldn't ask for a better woman than her, but she's somewhat... complicated, you know?"

Nacho tried to hide his expression of disgust and shook his head.

"You know, she demands a lot of attention... Sometimes she seems like a child" Lalo shrugged and took a sip of his beer. "She should have friends and go out or something, but she's at home all day waiting for me to return."

"I imagine it must be difficult for her to have friends while being your wife... right?"

Lalo observed Nacho for a moment and paused to silently contemplate what he had said.

"It could be... Maybe she's just as distrustful as I am and finds it hard to trust other people" Lalo smiled as he reached the conclusion that you were as reserved as he was. It only made him feel more secure to have you by his side. "But it seems like she really likes you."

Those words made Nacho's skin crawl. Was Lalo aware of the strange friendship you two had?

"I'm glad she gets along with you. Maybe someday you can introduce her to those pretty girlfriends you have, and she can make some real friends."

Lalo laughed at his own comment, and Nacho tried to play along while realizing that Lalo didn't suspect or feel threatened by his presence with you. Lalo's ego was probably so big that he couldn't feel jealous of Nacho. Or perhaps he trusted you too much and your loyalty to him.

Suddenly, Lalo fell silent and sat up straight in his chair, appearing attentive and alert. Nacho swallowed hard and quickly glanced at his phone to check the time: 3:37. He had missed the deadline to open the gate.

"Did you hear that noise?"

Nacho remained silent and looked towards the gate he was supposed to open thirty minutes ago. Lalo noticed that Nacho also sensed something was wrong and decided to focus all his attention on that spot.

Nacho felt out of himself. He had lost the opportunity to escape; he should have left before Lalo had kept him entertained. But he couldn't blame him. When the memory of the dinner with you invaded his mind, he became lost and forgot about everything else.

"Someone is stepping on the leaves outside…" Nacho whispered, pretending surprise.

"Chingad-… Go call Miguel and tell him to get the boys ready."

Nacho nodded and stood up from the chair. But before he could take another step, Lalo mentioned you, "Go to her and make sure nothing happens to her. Grab the revolver on the nightstand next to my bed and protect her."

The orders were clear, and Nacho felt a great relief knowing that he could ensure nothing happened to you. He quickly ran towards the house and informed Lalo's guards to be on alert for his instructions. Nacho began to climb the stairs of the house towards the master bedroom…

Ignacio hesitated, his hand on the doorknob, unsure if he should enter or not. He didn't know how you would react to being approached by him in the middle of the night. But when gunshots started ringing outside the house, he hurriedly pushed the door open and closed it behind him. He went straight to the nightstand next to your bed and searched for Lalo's revolver.

"Ignacio…?" Your sleepy voice snapped him out of his trance and made him look directly at you.

Nacho almost let out a sigh as he saw you in soft, almost transparent pajamas. Although he wished he could admire you in detail, he quickly reloaded the revolver.

"You have to stand up…. They are attacking the hacienda".

Your look of terror became more pronounced as you heard the sound of bullets and the noise of the garden's metal gates opening.

"Where's Eduardo?!"

"He's downstairs. He asked me to keep you here..." Nacho approached the bed and helped you get up. "I need you to stay behind me at all times... Is there a bathroom here?"

You nodded, trembling, and pointed shakily to the bathroom next to the bed.

"Good. Listen... Go into the bathroom and stay there while I guard the entrance, alright?"

"W-What?! I don't want to be alone, please... Come with me."

Fear flooded your body with each noise from outside. The sound of gunfire and Lalo's men shouting made your body tremble with fear. Nacho noticed this and felt his heart constrict. It was the first time he had seen you in such a vulnerable state, and a sense of protectiveness grew within him.

"Alright... Let's go to the bathroom, but listen to me: if they manage to enter, I will have to go out, but you have to hide. I will try to buy you some time to escape and find a hiding place."

"But Ignaci-"

"Only if they manage to enter... Come, follow me."

Nacho offered you his hand, and you held it tightly as he guided you to the bathroom in the room. Once inside, he locked the door and stood in the middle of the room, still holding your hand tightly. With each sound of gunfire, the tension between both of you grew, and terror filled the dark bathroom. You couldn't see much, and the only sense of security you had was the warmth provided by his strong hand.

"Nacho…" your whispering voice called to him, and he turned to see your frightened face in the darkness, trying to make out your features.

"Stay calm… Nothing is going to happen to you. I won't let anything happen to you."

"And Lalo?"

"Lalo will be fine… You are the priority now."

Those words struck deep within you. The way Nacho was trying to make you feel safe and prioritizing your well-being, it all made you feel… important.

You were his priority. He was looking out for your safety and making sure you felt good by his side. The sensation of his hand holding you tightly, how his entire demeanor was focused on keeping you protected… And even though the situation was terrifying, you felt an incredible sense of happiness.

As the sound of bullets intensified, you moved closer to Nacho and wrapped your arms around his torso, seeking some security in his touch. Nacho felt his heart skip a beat as you got so close, but he remained steadfast for you. He enveloped you with one arm while holding the revolver with his other hand.

When the noise and gunpowder ceased, a sense of calm seemed to settle over the hacienda, and all you could hear was the sound of your heart pounding in your chest.

Both of you heard a knock on the bathroom door, and Lalo's voice seeped through. Ignacio quickly opened the door, revealing a tired Lalo with dirt on his clothes, completely sweaty.

Nacho let go of you, and he watched as you ran towards your husband, embracing him tightly while Lalo reciprocated and reassured you.

He felt empty, but he couldn't say anything about it.

[dearest-painter]

I’m not my father! PT.1

Summary: All her life everyone who knew who her father’s job and secret job,they only compare her to who he is. When she meets more spider people who want her as her daughter but keep mentioning her father she gets hella pissed off!

TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship,abusive behavior,abusive relationship,Reader is Zoey Lawton,Reader has anxiety,very out of character characters,this is a series,Reader knows how to shoot almost every gun and has an amazing aim after their dad taught them,Reader is unwillingly in the spider society,Reader call Harley Auntie Harley,Suicide squad is Reader’s adopted aunts and or uncles,Reader has a gun on them bc they live in Gotham city and their powers can’t always save their ass,people might be out of character,tell me if I need to add more

All your life people have known you as deadshot’s daughter, it wasn’t your dads fault as he actually tried to hide you from his life style but one way or another they were gonna find out soon. Your dad is supportive of you being spider-women even if he doesn’t understand. You balance Black web as your his positive counterpart which made you feel a bit good about yourself as this lets you be yourself.

Usually you’d be with auntie Harley but no here you here stuck in some stupid ass society that you want nothing to do with! Sighing as you sat down and took out your gun that was empty you started aiming until your aim ended on someone’s head which scared you both. “HOLY FUCK!” “DON’T SHOOT!” You put your gun away very surprised. “I wasn’t gonna shoot you! Jesus Christ!! Where the hell did you come from and how the fuck are you!?” “I’m Miles morales and I ain’t sure honestly! I’m just trying to get home!” “Ah, Y/N Lawton, I’m from earth-50101(Got this from one of my chats with an AI so deal with it). I know a place you can hide for a bit”

Miles thanked You as you lead him to you hideout, unlike the rest of the spider-people you don’t have a watch as you deliberately try to destroy it as you never wanted to be here. You calmed Miles down while putting your gun in your backpack to make him feel a bit calmer. “I think I know how to get you home but it’s a wild chance…ya willing to take that chance?” “YES! Anything to get home!”

Sighing you nodded your head but you saw Gwen and hobie so you watched them carefully, no one is to be trusted at this moment as your mission or job in this time is to get Miles home safely. “Miles we wanna talk” miles just got behind you and you ready to attack to protect miles. “Y/N we aren’t going to hurt him” “mhm sure, just because I’ve known y’all doesn’t mean I trust y’all. Just let Miles be and let him go home!” “You know I can’t” “Why not!? He has a family that he was taken away from like me! Fucker is gonna go home one way or another” Gwen sighed as she knew you were gonna be stubborn

[itsfuntobeavampiree]

Vincent’s SO having him try a paraffin wax dip for his hands and feet for the first time

Slashers when their SO has an asthma attack; staying with their SO in the ER optional. I’m a Bubba Sawyer and Thomas Hewitt girlie :)

I think I will go with the second one bc I have asthma lol so yk kind of a "I can relate to this* moment. But if I do the Vincent one I will tag u if you'd like.

Slashers with an S/O having an asthma attack

Michael (og)

Now you know this man is NOT dumb, you've told him before you struggle with asthma just to warn him and he'd silently keep that in mind. He'd never thought you'll have an asthma attack this bad, like you always came prepared. Always had more than one inhaler on you, always knew when to slow down and you knew how to take deep breaths but I guess the cold autumn air really got to you one day.

Obviously he was watching you from afar as he noticed you had slowed down and held on tightly to your chest. He didn't want to interfere straight away because he knew you always had it but when you started to wobble and your breathing wasn't even breathing anymore he was ready to run and save you. Unfortunately the resident of the house you collapsed infront was ahead of Michael,coming to your aid he tensed and watched intently.

When he found out that you were at the ER being treated he was kinda annoyed. He's a possessive type, not liking people to talk to you unless he's hearing what's being said. He was actually thinking about slaughtering half the people there just to see you but he held himself back, just for you <3

When you're out the next day he is already there in your home, looming in the shadows. Be prepared because he will actually hug you back tonight! So you won there a bit. He wouldn't show it but he was absolutely petrified. You were the only person who understood him and he didn't wanna see you go because who knows what will happen.

Thomas

He found out you had asthma after realising you were slowler and more easy to catch out of your group. He also keeps this in mind ever since making sure you don't push yourself into chores you won't be able to do. He's always there to help you. He would be more protective and always listening out for your breathing, you could be a mile away and he could tell that your wheezy and so he would pester you into the living room to sit and he would pull out the inhaler he kept his his trouser pockets just for incase (omg he's so cute🥺) and would make sure you're okay. But I guess this time he couldn't.

On this specific day you all were out over working yourselfs, lately more people have became victims to the hewitt household and that meant more chores being forgotten about so today everyone was piling in on themselves making sure they got everything out the way before any more trouble comes rolling down their street. You were the unlucky one to have gained more chores and also had been forced to do some of hoyts as of his lazy ass command. Thomas would've helped you but hoyt scolded him for being too soft. You had soon realised your breathing had decreased the past 10 minutes but you being stubborn just took some deep breaths and conitued over working yourself.

You realised you had fucked up as the texas heat had made your breathing become painful and burnt your throat. As you tried to reach for your inhaler in your pocket, you couldn't feel it your eyes widened in realisation as you had probably dropped it in the hay as you were moving about. You had no patience to scurry around on the floor trying to find it so as you did, you tried to find Tommy.

Tears pricked your eyes as you struggled more and more and your vision blurred. You squinted and saw a large figure in the distance you tried and walked faster towards it but you couldn't even catch a breath when you were going at a slow pace. You fell to the ground with a loud thud and that alerted Tommy he turned quickly and his eyes turned to panic when you saw you on the ground your chest struggling to go up and down. He ran towards you shoving his hand in his pocket to grab the inhaler.

He knelt down next to you and puffed the inhaler into your mouth, making sure you inhaled it properly and making you take an extra one. Thomas carried you into the house and plopped you down on the sofa, wiping the tears from your eyes. He couldn't even imagine how painful it was for you but luda mae came by his side and helped him comfort you.

Luda as the Queen she is scolded hoyt for putting to much hard labour onto you knowing that you had a medical condition. For now on you either had inside chores that didn't need to much running around or some simple quick and easy outside tasks...close to Tommy.

(I love this gif of him he's so silly <3)

Bubba sawyer

I'm sorry but you know his house is damp and dusty and that's just perfect for your lungs! (Sarcasm if you couldn't tell) You told him what asthma was like a week in and you had to explain it to him in depth because sorry but my boy isn't so intelligent. He responded in little grunts of understandment and just patted your head. He also similar to Thomas will keep an ear out for you because after being here for a while your breathing had decreased and omg...those god awful chesty coughs. Now he has a mission! To dust the house for you I mean he can't really stop the dampness but he does try by opening windows during the day.

It was a day like no other, you were washing up, making the bed, doing laundry basically just helping out and doing work the boys were reluctant about. But all this running around made you wheezy so you went and looked for your inhaler, unfortunately this meant going up, down, side ways and under ways and your chest couldn't take it so you sortve gave up and sat down closing your eyes and taking in deep breaths. It hurt so bad but you just had to focus, you continously told yourself.

you heard the door swing open and your eyes squinted open to see your bubba. He looked at you with eyes of worry and made his way towards you. He grunted and snorted asking if you were ok. You just let out a wheezy cough and he knew what was wrong placing an ear to your chest as a way to ask if it was that and you slowly nodded he ran up the stairs and you could hear rustling and furniture moving. You tried to let out a chuckle but a whole lot of pained coughs replaced it instead.

Couple minutes later he came running down the stairs and sat by your side. He moved his hand holding your inhaler up to your mouth and helped you inhale it. After around 2 or more puffs and steady breathing your chest was no longer rising rapidly. He slung his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in for a side ways hug, you smiled up at him and tilted your head onto him so you snuggled quite nicely together.

He then scolded you playfully but he had a sort of seriousness to him that you kept in mind and didnt want to actually disobey,you nodded along before sighing, laying back into the sofa as he watched you with his gorgeous puppy dog eyes.

Yeah hi, sorry I haven't been writing as much recently, nothings being going on I js cant be asked if I'm honest. Another apology for bubba as I gave up half way in his awhile ago and now js remembered I better finish this off. So rn pls don't request anything bc unfortunately you won't get it till next Christmas.

Love you all my favourite lil slasher fuckers🩷🩷

[cognacandlilac]

To the Depths - Part Five - NSFW

(Pirate!Silco x F!Reader) The Pirate's Waltz

AO3 - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3.1 - Part 3.2 - Part 4

Rating: Explicit/MDNI Chapter Summary: You struggle with the terms of your punishment even as you begin to win over the crew. For a moment, all is well even though you are technically a prisoner. Will the sea allow a moment of peace? Chapter Tags/Warnings: def a little nsfw but not nearly as much as other parts, nothing that hasn't been in past parts. Not beta'd bc I was too impatient to get the update posted lol *edited on 8/5 to fix mistakes that would have been caught with beta reading. There is a lesson here...*

You flee the cabin immediately without another word. Your entire body hums, rages, cries, and begs for release and you know you will not find it in that room. Something stings and burns in your chest, wrapping around your heart and squeezing tight. You’re reminded of Silco’s sea serpent tattoo but immediately shake the thought away. His body is the last thing you want to think about right now. 

Especially since the ache between your legs only grows with each step. You briefly entertain the idea of finding a dark, shadowy corner of the ship to bring the relief denied you, but that thought flies out of your mind the moment you see the crew standing idle on the deck, their faces all turned toward the short stairwell you’ve just climbed. You freeze on the last step.

Before Silco dragged you back down to the cabin, you’d passionately declared for all to hear that you were the reason they had to spend the night fighting a violent storm and why thick pools of drying blood now stain the deck. No doubt you’ve made an enemy of yourself to every single person staring at you now. 

You could return to the cabin but the thought of being enclosed with Silco is unbearable. You are caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. Almost literally. 

Luckily, you aren’t trapped in your frozen state for long. Jinx darts into your field of vision, her eyes wide and frantic. 

“You look awful ,” she says, cupping your face in her dainty hands. The coolness of her skin alerts you to just how scorching your face is. No doubt flushed, too. “I hope he wasn’t too harsh with you.”

Harsh certainly isn’t the word you’d choose to describe what just happened in his cabin. “I received the punishment I deserved for my error,” You say, hoping to avoid bringing up any particulars of that punishment, not when your ass still stung in the shape of his hand. Before Jinx can ask another question, you make your way across the deck to the poor crewmate you tricked. 

“I owe you an apology.” You speak to him with the same grace and dignity you would reserve for a noble. “Tricking you wasn’t just wrong, it was cruel. If I thought for even one minute that things would turn out the way they did, I never would have done it but that does not make it acceptable.” 

You bow your head and sink into a half-curtsy. 

“Please, accept my sincerest apologies.”

The walleyed crewmember says nothing at first. Your cheeks grow red from embarrassment as you try to figure out what you ought to do next. He saves you from your discomfort when he lets out a loud, cawing laugh.

“All those fancy words for me, miss?” He guffaws. “In all me days I never thought a lady would speak so pretty to me.” He throws an arm around you in a friendly, but rough, manner and you straighten up to avoid falling over altogether. “So, am I forgiven?”

“Ya ran a bad scheme and it bit us all in the ass. We’ve all done it,” he assures her. “But it’s nice to know you aren’t too high and mighty to take the consequences.” Relief floods you as the other crewmates circle around. They give you approving nods, though you won’t go as far as to say they look upon you with trust or friendliness. 

“Surely, the Captain requested more than just an apology,” Sevika says with a suspicious glint in her eyes. 

“The apology was my own doing,” you say as you approach her. “His punishment dictates that I am to report to you. I am to clean the deck.” Her eyebrows twitch as the corners of her mouth quiver like she’s trying not to laugh. 

“I wouldn’t trust someone so soft-handed with the care of my deck but if the Captain insists…”

She trails off as she walks away. You realize you are meant to follow and hurry after her. She doesn’t offer anything by way of instruction. She tosses a bucket and a thick bristled brush towards you, which you fail to catch. The items clatter onto the floor. Your cheeks burn when you hear chuckles behind you. “Get to it,” Sevika grunts. You look at the empty bucket, noticing that it’s…well, empty. 

“Where would I find water?” As soon as the words are out of your mouth, you realize your mistake. Everyone who heard begins to laugh. 

“I think you can figure that one out on your own, princess,” Sevika smirks before heading below deck. 

Jinx appears at your side, silent as a ghost but with the energy of a toddler who has had nothing but sweets all day. 

“I rigged up a pulley system so you can fill your bucket. I’ll show you.” 

She loops her arm through yours and pulls you across the deck. You fill your bucket with saltwater and approach one of the more gruesome remnants of the morning’s violence. Your stomach heaves as you spot something that might very well be a skull fragment. 

Determined not to look foolish or weak, you get on your knees and scrub. You work diligently and without complaint, even when your arms start to ache and the wood remains stained despite your efforts. 

It isn’t the approval of the crew you want, exactly. But you are going to be trapped on this ship for two weeks. While you aren’t looking to make friends with your captors, you also don’t want to find your throat slit in a moment of anger. 

“How long are you going to keep doing that?” Jinx materializes by your side. Her braids fall into the puddle you’ve created with your scrubbing efforts. She doesn't seem to mind that she might be getting blood in her long hair. 

“Is this a trick question?”

“No.”

You lift your head to find wide blue eyes staring at you with curiosity. 

“I will keep doing this until the deck is clean.”

She barks out a laugh. “You’re never going to remove all the gross stuff with just water. Didn’t you know that?”

“I don’t often find myself in positions where I am scrubbing up gross stuff ,” you reply. “What else am I supposed to use?”

“Did Sevika not tell you?” Her brows knit together in a mix of concern and confusion. 

“Tell me what?”

Jinx studies you for a moment longer before giggling. “Oh, I get it. Sevika’s having a go at you. Don’t worry. Everyone knows you’ll work without kicking up a fuss. I’ll be right back.”

She bounds off, leaving you confused. You take a moment to give your aching arms a break. You are aware of eyes on you, though the crewmates scattered around the deck do a decent job of not staring at you directly. You know this is some kind of test, one you’re determined to pass with flying colors even if the reward is earning the respect of pirates. 

Jinx returns with a small tin. 

“Watch this.” With a grin, she opens the tin to reveal vibrant purple powder. She sprinkles a little over the blood-soaked wood. “Pour a little water on that.”

You do as she instructs. With wide eyes, you watch the water hiss and bubble. It takes on a pale purple hue as it spreads. It eats away at the blood but leaves the wood unblemished. 

“More water,” Jinx instructs. You comply. The bubbles wash away leaving behind smooth, clean wood. 

“What is that?” You ask, eyeing the purple power. 

“We’re still working on a name. I have several ideas but they always get shot down,” she says as she replaces the lid and tucks the tin into one of her many pockets. 

“We?”

“The ship’s doctor. He likes to experiment.”

“This is the same doctor you got that strange drink from before, when I was first brought aboard?” You press. 

“Yup!” Jinx beams. 

“Well, the Captain tore that drink from my hands and threw it overboard before giving me water. What was wrong with it?” You shudder at the thought of drinking a substance that is capable of dissolving blood and chunks of brain matter being served to you in a cup. 

“Nothing!” Jinx raises her hands, palms facing you. “Sometimes it has side effects, but usually it’s completely safe.”

“Usually?” You arch a brow. 

“Sometimes it makes your veins swell and glow and you can occasionally develop abnormal growths on your body,” she explains. “But that’s only if the batch is made wrong or you take way too much.” 

“None of the words coming from your mouth are bringing me comfort.”

“It’s science! It’s all about trial and error,” she shrugs. “If I thought it would hurt you I wouldn’t have given it to you.” 

Despite everything, you believe her. You haven’t seen a hint of malice in her since you were brought aboard. 

“But you still haven’t told me what it is,” you press. 

“It’s…a tool,” she says with thoughtful consideration. “Depending on how we process it, it can do a lot of things. It can be medicine and poison at the same time. It can clean wood with gentle precision but also dissolve bone. A tricky thing, it is. Truly fascinating.” 

“Interesting,” you murmur as your mind wanders to a person who possesses that same versatility. Another tricky thing. 

You see Silco’s face in your mind’s eye but quickly shake his image away. You don’t want to think about the Captain right now. You’re still cross from the way he teased you and denied you. You’re even more cross knowing how much you would have begged for your pleasure had he not chosen to punish you the way he did. “Thank you for the help. Can I have some of that powder to help me clean?”

Jinx almost seems like she’s going to agree but she holds back. “I’ll just stay with you. We can talk and I’ll sprinkle a little whenever you need it.”

“That works for me.” You offer her a warm smile, a genuine one. She smiles back and settles between two crates to keep you company as you clean. ******** Though you finish cleaning the blood and gore from the deck the very day they were spilled, Sevika isn’t shy about giving you extra tasks. She never gives you anything too difficult though you know it’s not out of consideration for you, but for the ship. 

You’ve scrubbed the deck twice a day for three days. When you aren’t scrubbing, you put your sewing skills to use mending sails. The thick material is hard to work with and the needles are little more than scraps of half-rusted metal but you make do. 

With the help of quick hands, fast learning, and the strange purple powder Jinx offers you soon have far too much idle time on your hands. 

You aren’t particularly fond of aimlessly pacing the deck. The Captain’s cabin is always open to you, but you spend as little time there as you can manage.

Despite Captain Silco’s demanding schedule, he always manages to be in the cabin whenever you are. The room is small enough as it is, but when you are in there together, the very air seems to struggle for space. You don’t speak to him. You don’t look at him unless you can help it. Yet, he never misses a chance to brush close to you. You feel his eyes on you, always. Even when you sleep. 

Sharing his bed is a necessity but you keep your limbs tucked close to you and your body curled toward the cabin wall. He never touches you, which brings both relief and unimaginable frustration.

On the third night, you lay wide awake. Your entire body hums with pressure from the release that was denied days ago. The longing never went away but tonight it’s nearly unbearable. 

You listen in the dark. Silco sleeps beside you. His breathing is deep and even. Though there is a soft glow from the ember of his ruined eye, you know he’s asleep. Slowly, very slowly, you shift onto your back. You wear only a borrowed shirt to sleep in. Your legs are left bare and your undergarments never recovered from your unexpected dip in the ocean. Tonight, it’s an advantage. 

With great care, you slowly lift the long hem of your shirt until you feel the skin of your lower belly. You part your legs only an inch or two before letting your hand slowly wander between your legs beneath the shared blankets. 

You listen intently as you move. Silco’s breathing never changes and you keep the rustling of bedsheets to a minimum. 

You find it safe to assume that Silco is a heavy sleeper. Between the winds and rocking of the ship, it would be difficult for a finicky sleeper to find peace here. At least, that’s what you tell yourself. As sound as your logic may be, logic is not what drives you at this moment. 

The sensation of your fingertips against your skin is enough to make you shiver. You freeze, silently admonishing your lack of self-control before making another attempt. You don’t need much. Just a few light, indulgent touches. Just enough to remove the biting edge of desire that has taken up permanent residence in the back of your mind since Silco bent you over his knee. The pad of a single fingertip brushes against that sensitive, soaked bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, hard enough to hurt. The pain is necessary if it keeps you from making even the softest of sounds. 

You wait for a moment, listening to Silco’s breathing. When you are certain there is no change, you allow another slow drag of your fingertip. Then another. And another. Pleasure spins through your mind and soothes the needy ache you’ve carried in your core for days. 

Fragmented images from the night of the storm slip through your mind. The memory of Silco’s soft groan when you rode him so slowly sends another ripple of warmth through your body. You can recall the exact sensation of his tongue as he teased your nipples. You can feel the way he throbbed inside of you when you drove each other to maddening releases. 

Yet, somehow, you manage to keep your movements minimal, discrete, and silent. Even as your blood heats up and your heart pounds, you have enough self-control to keep yourself quiet as you relieve your desires. 

An intoxicating sense of smugness adds another layer to your pleasure. Though it was memories of Silco that fueled that pleasure, he remains asleep beside you. Completely oblivious. 

His ability to consistently underestimate you was truly something-

“What do we have here?” His velvet voice slides through the darkness and wraps around you as his hand finds yours. You’re grateful for the pitch blackness of the cabin so he cannot see the redness of your cheeks. Your mind, still caught in the haze of pleasure from your fingertip, struggles to come up with any sort of explanation. 

There is nothing you can say for yourself. You’ve been caught. 

His hand, still covering your hand, moves. He presses down on your fingers, forcing you to tease yourself. You push your hips down into the mattress to avoid the pressure of your own touch. “Oh, now you wish to follow the rules?” He taunts lightly. 

You roll so that your back is to him. You tell yourself that you remain silent because you will not sink so low as to dignify his taunts with a response. Yet, deep in your belly where that spring of desire sits tightly coiled, you know that you cannot trust your own tongue right now. If you open your mouth to slice him with scathing words, there is a chance you’ll simply end up begging for pleasure. 

Hatred blooms within the blush on your cheeks. How dare he toy with you in such a way? How dare you struggle so much to keep yourself in control around him? What happened that night, within the violence of the storm, was about control more than it was about pleasure. 

But now? You have your hand between your legs, sneaking pleasure when you’ve always been able to go without when it suited you. 

He’s made you desperate. 

You remove your hand from between your legs and tuck both arms against your chest. You clamp your thighs together and pray that the sweet ache between them fades soon. 

“If I catch you doing that again, I will not hesitate to bind your hands behind your back.” Silco’s voice comes through the darkness once more before he falls silent. You continue to say nothing. When the sun rises, you dress as quickly as you can and flee the cabin. Silco sits at his desk and you do not even have to look at him to know there is a smug smile on his mouth. Embarrassment and irritation propel you through your daily tasks in record time. It is not yet midday when you find that you have nothing to do. 

The rest of the crew mill about at a comfortable pace. They don’t seem to be in any particular rush. Jinx is nowhere to be found. You assume she’s below decks with the strange doctor you have yet to meet. Disappointment flutters in your chest. As strange as it is, your favorite parts of the past few days were when she would perch near you ask you worked, and ramble on about everything and nothing. She often jumped from topic to topic without rhyme or reason and rarely bothered to make sure you had the proper context to understand anything she said, but you enjoyed listening. She helped you keep your mind busy. 

When your mind is not busy, even for the briefest of moments, your thoughts always turn to Silco. More specifically Silcos’s hands. Or his mouth. Or his voice or his cock or his insufferable personality. Without care, it’s so easy for you to lose yourself in a whirlpool of obsessive, never-ending thoughts about that ridiculous, despicable, revolting pirate bastard. 

Prickles of pure fury ripple over your skin. With a soft snarl of annoyance, you scan the deck for Sevika. You find her near the bow, watching the calm sea. 

“I need something else to do,” you say. 

She initially seems as though she does not hear you, but you’ve come to realize that it’s part of the game she plays. She makes you wait before turning slowly and looking at you as though you’re a piece of flotsam. 

“Mend the sails,” she says. 

“They’re all mended.” Despite their somewhat worn-down appearance, the sails are of remarkable quality. Even after that vicious beast of a storm, little mending was needed. 

“And the deck?”

“As spotless as it can be with all of the wood rot.” 

“And the spare line?”

“In perfect condition. It may as well be coils of silk.” 

“How many pickled eggs are in the barrel?”

“Two-hundred and seventy-three.”

Her thick, dark brows shoot up. “You’re kidding.”

“If you want to double-check, you’re more than welcome but please give me something to do first before I throw myself overboard.” 

Several emotions fight for dominance on Sevika’s stern face. You see flashes of surprise, humor, annoyance, and perhaps a little bit of respect though that might have been a trick of the light. 

“Arlo is doing one of his big cooking hauls today,” Sevika says. “I’m sure he can use an extra set of hands.” 

You had yet to venture below deck to meet the ship’s cook and see the mess deck. Jinx preferred to eat in the open air and had taken it upon herself to bring an extra serving for you at mealtimes. 

You find the meal offerings of the Zaun’s Revenge to be, frankly, repulsive. At first, you assumed it was because your palate was used to Piltover’s fresh vegetables, vibrant spices, and choice cuts of meat. But you’d seen the way others look at their meals with disgust and longing and you knew you weren’t alone in your dislike of the cuisine. 

Of course, could you truly expect to find something tasty aboard a pirate’s ship?

Sevika does not wait for you to answer. She turns away as though you are not there and focuses her gaze on the sea once more. You wonder if she’s looking for something or simply pondering. It’s not hard to imagine that those aboard this ship have had difficult lives filled with strife. You have more than most ever will, despite your losses, and you often need to take a moment to deal with the weight of it all by gazing at a soothing view. It clears the mind. 

You make your way below deck, passing the crammed tables of the mess deck. 

Arlo isn’t difficult to find. The mess deck and the kitchen are one and the same. A heavy-set man covered in a light sheen of sweat frantically tosses…something in a wide pan over a massive flame. The air carries a scent of burnt food and vinegar. Arlo watches the pan as though he believes the contents will jump out and bite him. To be fair, that doesn’t seem impossible. 

“Hello?” You call softly, over the violent sizzle of the ill-fated meal. 

Arlo looks over his shoulder and sets the pan aside, looking relieved to do so before a stern expression overtakes his somewhat doughy features. You can’t help but notice the red tinge to his watery grey eyes, irritated by the fumes of cooking such a creation. 

“No early meals. You should know the rules by now, princess.”

“Oh, no,” you shake your head. “I’m not here to beg for food. Sevika suggested you might need an extra hand. She said you were doing some kind of…food haul?” While you understand what each of those words mean separately, you are unsure of the combined meaning of them in this context. 

“Aye?” He sniffs as he brings the corner of his apron up to rub at his eyes. “I like to cook big batches of things all at once and preserve them so it is easy to handle mealtimes. This lot is hard to feed.” 

“Preserve them?” You ask. “You have enough salt for such a task?” 

“Of a sort,” he says. “The good doctor below decks whipped up a preserving powder that works wonders. It tastes like nothing.” 

Arlo jerks his chin towards a bowl sitting on one of the stained, cluttered counters. The bowl is filled with a grainy substance the same vibrant shade of purple as the powder that helped you get blood out of the deck. 

“What is it?” You ask, leaning forward just a little. 

“Beats me,” Arlo shrugs. “It’s not my place to ask questions, especially not when I’m given something helpful for free.” 

“I can understand that,” you nod. “Do you need help with your food haul?” 

“I won’t say no. Can you cook?”

You hesitate for a moment. “No. But if you have a recipe I can look at, I can surely figure it out.” You’ve always been a quick learner. And so many people know how to cook so how hard can it truly be? You doubt whatever concoctions Arlo makes take much skill. 

“I don’t waste my time with recipes.”

“Then how do you cook?” You ask, unsure if you want to know the answer. 

“I do what feels right.”

What feels right often leads to grey foods that are both mushy and crunchy at the same time. 

“Did you study somewhere to become a cook?” Your training in polite conversation rears its head before you can stop it. Of course, he didn’t train anywhere. He’s a bloody pirate. 

“People are trained to be cooks?” He looks at you with utter confusion. 

“They prefer to be called chefs, but yes.”

“Ach,” he waves her off. “I’m no chef and I do not pretend to be. I just do my best to use whatever isn’t rotting or foul to keep the crew fed.”

Well, at least Arlo seems to have some sort of self-awareness. “Were you not able to gather more ingredients when we stopped at Port Fairna?” You ask. You vividly remember plenty of spice sellers and bakers lining the dirt streets. 

“No,” Arlo answers sharply. “I do not mess about with such things.”

You tilt your head in confusion. “You do not manage your own stock?”

“No.” Came another curt reply. The cook avoids your gaze, choosing instead to look at his own hands. 

You decide not to push the matter and instead, turn your attention to the shelves of the well-stocked scullery. Unfortunately, your confusion only deepens. The shelves are lined with rich spices from all over the world that look untouched. You spy garlic, onions, potatoes, carrots, and all manner of staple ingredients labeled and stored with heaps of the purple preservative. 

“What are all of these?” You ask. 

Arlo looks at the shelves you point to but quickly looks away. “Don’t know. Never seen ‘em before. Don’t know how to cook with ‘em so I don’t use them.”

“But it says what they are right on the containers,” you point out. “Surely, you’ve heard of garlic and potatoes even if you’ve never had them. Right?” 

Arlo goes quiet for a moment and you briefly wonder if you’ve made some unforgivable error in an innocent question. “Aye. Yes, I’ve heard of them but I did not know we had them.”

“But they’re labeled. Did you not label them yourself?” He controls the kitchen, does he not?

Arlo’s cheeks turn a patchy red color that is not from the fumes or heat. “No, no I didn’t. I…can’t.”

You stare in confusion before shame and embarrassment creep into your gut. “You do not know how to write?”

“Or read.”

Arlo can’t meet your gaze. He seems frozen in place. Though he is nearly the side of the large, tattooed crewmember that once pulled you from the sea, he looks like a small child. 

“Oh,” you say softly. It’s clearly a point of tenderness for Arlo. You don’t wish to upset him even more. “Well, then this seems like a perfect arrangement.”

He lifts his head and looks at you with a quizzical expression. “What?”

“I can read but I cannot cook. You can cook but cannot read. It seems like an ideal pairing to me.” You offer him a smile. 

For a brief moment, you wonder at your own actions. You’d never go out of your way to be unkind to someone who did not deserve it and you always try to do what’s right, but you know yourself. You have a temper and a spiteful streak that prevent you from ever calling yourself a nice person, though you like to think you are kind in all of the ways that matter.. Arlo is a pirate. Arlo likely knew of the plan to kidnap you and hold you for ransom. Arlo is one of Silco’s men and, therefore, cannot possibly be a good person. 

Yet, you find it easy to be nice to him. Natural, even. He doesn’t seem like a scowling, sneering member of a villainous pirate crew determined to put you through hell before returning you to your father and fiance. 

He’s just…a person. 

So is Jinx. 

You are surrounded by people. Just people. 

You shake away the thought. Yes, the crew of the Zaun’s Revenge are people but they are people who willingly follow a terrible man capable of terrible things. There are no innocent people aboard this ship and you cannot allow sentimentality and loneliness to cloud that fact. 

Still, if a little teamwork can yield some decent food, you’re willing to give it a go. 

With Arlo’s approving nod, you push into the scullery and examine what you have to work with. The stock aboard this half-rotted ship rivals your larder back home. You gather up ingredients you know work well together and read the labels to Arlo. His eyes light up with inspiration. 

“If I had known we had such things, I would have used them ages ago,” he says with an excited smile. 

“No one helped you until now?” You press. 

“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not exactly a helpful bunch. We handle our own responsibilities and we don’t gripe to anyone else. No one wants to be seen as a weak link in the chainmail. Weak links don’t last long. Asking for help would mean dumping some of my responsibilities on someone else’s lap. It’s just not done, you see?” 

“No, not really,” you answer. “Asking for help is not a weakness.”

“We can agree to disagree on that but let me ask you something.” Arlo took a head of garlic and began peeling and mincing the cloves with speed and precision. “When was the last time you answered a call for help?”

You open your mouth to answer but falter. You cannot remember a time you were last approached by someone in need of help. 

“Well, no one has asked me for help in recent memory so I cannot say,” you answer. 

“And that automatically means that no one around you needed help?” 

“I-” you stammer. “I don’t know.”

“I bet you live in a big, fancy house. Yeah?”

“Yes,” you say, your cheeks coloring with embarrassment as you pass a vial of dried green herbs to Arlo. 

“And lots of people get paid to be in that house and make your life easier?”

“Yes,” you repeat. 

“And you don’t think those people have struggles that you could probably help with?”

You want to say no. You want to believe that everyone working for your family is happy and content with their job as well as their personal lives but you are not that naive. 

Except…perhaps, you are. 

“I never thought about it,” you admit. 

“And they never asked because that’s not how it’s done. Their burdens are their own. My burdens are my own. It is the way of things.” 

You let his words sit heavy on your chest as you rummage through the scullery. You’re almost grateful when you smell the thick stench of rot from ingredients kept too long. You clear out everything that doesn’t look right and shove it into a bin to be disposed of later. 

You think of your lady’s maid and realize you know little about her. You do not know if she has siblings, a lover, a best friend, or even if her parents are alive. You have no idea why she applied for a position with your family. As much as you’d like to think your family are good employers, you know it’s foolish to believe her greatest joy in life is tightening your corset and brushing your hair. 

“Would this be a tasty addition?” Arlo calls, bringing you out of your thoughts as he holds up a jar of dried peppers. You read the label and wince. 

“Are spicy dishes popular among the crew?” You ask. “Just one of those would set your mouth on fire.”

“Better leave it for another day, then,” he shrugs. “I don’t want to overwhelm anyone with too many new flavors.” 

Though Arlo never had any training, his instincts as a cook come to life the moment he fully realizes just what he has to take advantage of. Vegetables are minced and sauteed quickly. You find some bone broth tucked away in the scullery. There is no shortage of fishmeat to choose from. You read the labels to Arlo who looks on in wonder. 

“I thought this was bass and this was carp,” he says, pointing to two containers of preserved fishmeat. “I never knew that was eel. It all looks so different when it’s sliced up and skinned.”

“Who does the fishing?”

“A few crewmembers have a knack for it. All of Sevika’s gadgets make her the obvious choice for skinning, deboning, and filleting,” Arlo explains. “It’s brought to me all packaged up like this.” 

It seems odd to you that the systems around food are so sloppy, especially since Silco seems to thrive on order. Upon further reflection, you realize you haven’t actually seen him eat. He left his plate untouched at the tavern. He let you eat his bread and potatoes. You saw him drink from his tankard but you cannot recall him taking a bite of his food. 

Surely, he must eat. Though he is a pirate, he’s displayed a sense of elegance and taste on more than one occasion. You simply cannot see him eating the food prepared by his illiterate cook. 

But why does it matter to you? He’s obviously eating enough to keep himself alive. Why would you care what he eats? 

You don’t care. And you don’t want to think about him. You have an important task on hand that is, truthfully, quite fun. You’ve come across many of the spices and herbs stored in the scullery during your travels. Smelling them brings pleasant memories. While you do not know how to cook, you know how to describe what things taste like. In the event Arlo knows nothing about an ingredient, you are sometimes able to provide some knowledge. It’s a strange system, but it somehow works. 

Arlo keeps your mind busy. He even teaches you how to chop a few things. Your hands are clumsy but you make it work. Within an hour, you are dutifully stirring a massive pot of fish stew. While it’s not something you’d choose for yourself, it’s an improvement on whatever Arlo made before. “It’s strange to be a cook on a pirate ship in the middle of the ocean and have access to things I never even knew existed growing up,” Arlo says, holding a potato in his hands. 

“You never had a potato until joining this crew?” You itch to ask why he joined in the first place but you allow him to reveal information about himself at his own pace. 

“Potatoes grow from the earth, yeah?” He asks. You nod. “Which means they need something in order to grow.” He gives you an expectant look. You know you’re being tested again but potatoes are a safer topic than the unknown personal lives of your staff. “Sunshine, water, and fertilizer, I presume.” 

“There is no sunshine where I come from,” Arlo says. “Water can’t be wasted on plants but even if it could, there is no earth. You can’t grow something of the earth if there is no earth for growing.” 

“Oh,” you murmur softly. “You’re from the Undercity, then?” 

“Almost all of us are,” Arlo says. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that.”

“Well, I haven’t been in a very social mood as of late. Being kidnapped tends to do that.” You offer a small smirk, which Arlo returns. 

“Fair enough,” he nods. “You seem like a decent sort for a spoiled heiress.”

“You seem like a decent sort for a pirate who can’t read.” 

Arlo barks out a laugh. “Perhaps, your ransom money will buy me a tutor.” 

You can’t help but laugh at that as you continue to stir the stew. With a little thrill of accomplishment, you realize that you’ve not only assisted in the preparation of a meal but you’ve done so without thinking of Silco for more than a few moments. He’s hardly entered your mind at all. 

Footfalls thump on the wooden stairs leading to the deck. You spot tall, well-kept boots wrapped around slender legs. 

It is as if your thoughts - or lack thereof - summoned him like some kind of devilish moth to a flame that would prefer to be left unbothered. “Ah, there you are,” Silco says as he enters the mess deck. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Working,” you reply, keeping your eyes on the stew. 

“I did not assign you to the kitchen.”

“You told me to take orders from Sevika. Sevika sent me here. Arlo and I are getting along brilliantly, aren’t we?” You look over your shoulder at the cook who glances between you and Silco with a look of panicked confusion. Eventually, his gaze stops on Silco. 

“I didn’t know you didn’t want her working in the kitchen, Captain,” he says quickly. His voice trembles with nerves and you feel anger flickering to life in your stomach. 

“I should warn you, Arlo,” Silco speaks as though the cook said nothing. “Our prisoner does not have a talent for following directions. She can be sneaky and disobedient if she believes she can get away with it.”

Your cheeks burn as you understand exactly what he means. 

Before you can stop yourself, you pull the wooden spoon from the stew and chuck it at Silco. He dodges, but barely. His good eye widens in surprise as you search for something else to launch at him. Perhaps a nice sharp butcher’s knife. Instead, you find a whisk. You throw it without hesitation. 

“Have you gone mad?” Silco snaps, dodging the second projectile. How can someone with one working eye be so good at dodging and judging distance? Although, you don’t know for certain if the ruined eye still has a vision. Could that be possible?

You let out a frustrated groan as your mind tries to give in to your curiosity about the infuriating pirate before you. 

“Oh, I see,” Silco chuckles. “You’re just upset I won’t let you cu-” 

He is silenced by a spatula spinning through the air as it hurtles toward him. He dodges once more. 

“I have plenty of things to throw at you,” you warn him. “And if I have gone mad, it’s entirely your fault so I will not feel bad if I crack your nose with a rolling pin.”

“I don’t have one of those,” Arlo murmurs softly. 

“Temper, temper,” Silco tuts before backing up toward the stairs. “Don’t let her poison me, Arlo. I don’t put it past her to try.”

Arlo gives you a concerned look as Silco vanishes. 

“Don’t worry,” you say with a bitter note in your voice. “I won’t poison anyone.”

“It’s not that, though I’m glad to hear it,” he said. “But you just threw things at the Captain. Have you lost your bleeding senses, woman?”

“Most likely.” You find another spoon to stir the stew with and continue on as though Silco did not interrupt your work. 

“Just be careful,” Arlo warns. “The Captain is not to be trifled with.”

“Neither am I.” ******** The stew is well received, but that’s not a surprise. Even if it still tastes off to you, it’s a massive improvement. The mess deck is packed with crewmembers licking their bowls clean and sniffing out second helpings. You and Arlo made enough stew to last several meals but it is all gone in the span of an hour. Arlo frets about rationing ingredients but his worries are soon put to rest from an overflow of praise. Even Sevika cracks a smile as she sips her broth. 

Silco does not eat with the crew, but that doesn’t surprise you. A spiteful part of you is glad that he will miss out on such a delightful meal. It serves him right for being so…so… Him. 

As night falls, the crew settles into a leisurely state. 

You get to work scrubbing the dirty dishes, eager to have a task that will keep you out of the Captain’s chambers for as long as possible. 

“Ach, leave it to me,” Arlo says. “You’ve done enough.”

“I don’t mind,” you protest, even though dishwashing is not an appealing task after seeing the way the pirates eat. “I should be helping.”

“Come have a drink with us,” comes the deep voice of the tattoo-covered man. After listening to the conversation during mealtimes, you gleaned that his name is Locke. 

“Oh, I-” You stammer, surprised by the invitation. A slender crewmember with dark choppy hair moves to Locke’s side. You’re fairly certain they go by Ran. 

“Come on,” they urge. “You’ve worked hard enough. And none of us have given you proper credit for taking Walley’s punishment the other day. It took nerve to speak up like that. Most of us wouldn’t have done that.” 

You look back at Arlo, who gives a nod of approval. Your gaze returns to Locke and Ran. Though they do not look as intimidating as they did when you first came aboard, you wouldn’t call their demeanors friendly, either but that’s something you’ve come to expect. Everyone on this ship comes from a rough place. It makes sense that even kindness looks abrasive in your eyes.  “Okay,” you nod. A part of your mind begins to scheme. If you can befriend some of the crew, perhaps you can pull off an escape after all. The other part of your mind is simply glad you have a reason to stay out of the Captain’s cabin. Besides, it will surely irritate Silco that his crew is being so welcoming to you. That’s a lovely bonus to this situation. 

You follow Locke and Ran to the main deck where quite a few members of the crew including Jinx and Sevika stand around a cluster of torches bound together in a damp barrel. It doesn’t seem like the safest arrangement, but you don’t say as much. You move to Jinx’s side. She beams when she sees you and throws a playful, but rough, arm over your shoulder. 

“It’s about time you started being social,” she says with a glint of mischief in her eyes. You almost want to remind her that you are a prisoner, a captive. Socializing is not a priority. You decide against it. She’s just a kid. She’s happy and she’s aware of the situation. You’ll leave well enough alone. 

“Here, princess.” Sevika presses a tin into your hand. You can smell the alcohol even though the tin is nowhere near your face. 

“What is it?” You ask. 

“The finest vintage imported from uppityland courtesy of Star Crossed Shipping,” Sevika snorts before taking a gulp of her own drink. You try not to bristle at the mention of your father’s company. 

“Seriously, what is it?” You whisper to Jinx. 

“I don’t know. I only drink coralberry juice,” she shrugs. “Nothing else is sweet enough.” 

You’ve never heard of coralberries or their juice. It’s entirely possible that Jinx is making up a random drink for the fun of it. Either way, your cup is filled with something dark and pungent. It is only when you notice that many crewmembers are watching you with curious and expectant looks that you realize they’re waiting for you to drink. They probably expect you to choke and sputter, proving that you’re too soft and fragile compared to them. 

You don’t know why the idea bothers you, but it does. You brace yourself and take a drink. 

And it is awful. 

If you had to guess, you’d say it was some kind of spiced rum but that doesn’t make the burn any easier to bear as you swallow it down. Your eyes water so much that everyone blurs together in a smudgy mess. For a moment, you think you’re going to be sick. Or that your skin is going to melt off. It’s hard to know for sure. 

Even when you swallow the liquid down and the feeling passes, your tongue feels numb. Surely, that’s nothing to worry about. Right?

You are rewarded with approving glances but never any outright praise. Not that it matters. Why would you want the praise of a bunch of pirates? Why would you want praise for choking down something that tastes like it was made in a boot? 

You shudder as you realize that it likely was made in a boot or something equally foul. 

Thankfully, attention moves away from you as everyone settles down to swap stories. Jinx pulls two crates together and urges you to sit on one. 

“Every word of these stories is utter shit, but they’re entertaining,” Jinx whispers to you. “I hope Locke tells about the time he caught a deep sea spineshark with nothing more than a stick and some fishing line.” 

You listen to the stories and Jinx’s words ring true. It quickly becomes clear that the purpose is not to share experiences, but to outdo each other with fictional feats of glory. Though, when Sevika speaks of punching a ravenous whale right in the eye, you feel as though there is a measure of truth in her words. Especially if that punch was done by her three-pronged attachment. 

“I wonder who is going shout liar first,” Jinx murmurs as her eyes scan the faces of those around her. 

“What?” You ask. 

“Eventually, someone tells a story that’s so impossible, so unbelievable, that someone else calls them a lair. Then they fight over it.” 

“Fight? As in, fight ?” You shake your head. How is this considered a fun activity? 

“Yup!” Jinx’s eyes sparkle with excitement. “It’s the best part.” 

“If you say so,” you shrug and continue to listen. 

Sure enough, a skinny sailor with sunken eyes and a permanent scowl tells a tale that is just a little bit too farfetched and it sends Locke over the edge. 

“Lair!” Locke booms, spilling some of his drink. 

“You wouldn’t know the truth if it bit you in the ass,” the other sailor snarls. 

“This is going to be a boring fight,” Jinx mumbles. “No one will throw a punch at Locke and Locke is too honorable to punch someone smaller than him.”

Never in a thousand years would you have looked at Locke and thought the word honorable applies to him. But Jinx’s prediction rings true. The two sailors shout and swear at each other for a little while but they do not come to blows. 

“At least I am a decent shot,” Locke grumbles as the argument reaches its head. 

“My nan is a better shot than you are and she’s fuckin’ blind,” the other man snarls, earning a round of snickers from the rest of the crew. 

“Your nan died three years ago, you twat.”

“Yeah! And she can’t see for shit!” 

You nearly spit out your tentative sip of likely-rum at that. You try to rein in your laughter when you realize everyone else is doing the opposite, especially Jinx. 

“Bring me a rifle,” Locke snaps. “We’ll settle this now.”

“You don’t have any targets to aim for, you buffoon,” Ran quips as they drain their cup. 

“That don’t matter,” the skinny sailor says with a dismissive wave. “I’m so drunk I can see just about as well as my nan.” 

“Then how are we going to settle our little disagreement?” Locke demands. “By proxy?”

“Sure, I’ll choose a proxy to defend my honor,” the sailor scoffs. His bleary eyes scan his surroundings before his gaze lands on you. “I bet the little heiress can outshoot you.”

Locke rolls his eyes and your cheeks flush red. 

“I’ll bet my life’s earning she’s never even held a firearm before,” Locke mutters. 

“Yet she can still outshoot you,” the sailor slurs. 

Your apprehension melts away as you realize everything is said in good fun. For reasons you are unsure of, you decide to join in. 

“I’ve never held a firearm but I’m certain Locke has never danced a waltz,” you say. 

Locke levels you with a hard stare, one brow arched. “Who needs waltzing?”

“Who needs to be a good shot in alone in the middle of the ocean?” You point out. 

“Good marksmanship is very useful in piracy,” Locke says. “Waltzing is not.” 

“Waltzing requires grace, balance, self-awareness, spatial awareness, and the ability to read those around you. You don’t have only your partner to worry about but other pairs around you. Can the same be said for shooting?” 

“Yes!” Jinx exclaims. “Well, maybe not the bit about a partner but that’s all true.”

“What a load of shit,” Locke grumbles. 

“It’s true,” Sevika chimes in. Her word seems to make all the difference even if she only speaks up for the sake of her own entertainment. 

You look at Locke who still seems to be struggling with the idea that a waltz and a rifleman use the same skillset. “I propose a challenge.” 

That gets everyone’s attention. 

“If I can shoot better than Locke can waltz, I win,” you say. 

“Win what?” Locke asks. 

“Bragging rights?” You suggest. You don’t want to trade away any chores since you need them in order to avoid being alone with Silco. 

“Done,” Locke nods with a smirk. Despite his menacing appearance, he looks almost…giddy. Like he’s happy to take part in something that’s truly ridiculous. “Come take your shot.” 

You stand and approach Locke as Ran brings a rifle to him. 

“Do you have any idea how to shoot this at all?” Locke asks. 

“Nope,” you admit. 

“In the spirit of good sportsmanship, I’ll show you just enough to keep you from hurting yourself,” he says. 

“How gallant.” 

He shows you how to hold the rifle, which is far heavier than you imagined. As per instruction, you keep the barrel pointed toward the open ocean at all times. As you hold it, your arms start to tremble. Locke prepares the rifle for firing and you suspect he’s taking longer than necessary just to see you struggle. 

“If there is no target, how can we know whether I’ve made a good shot or not?” You ask. 

“Don’t worry. That won’t matter.” 

“But my part of the challenge is a test of marksmanship,” you protest only to be met with a chuckle. 

“Okay, princess. Go ahead and fire.” Locke gives you a nod and you gently tap your finger against the trigger. Aiming at the endless, empty expanse of the black ocean, you pull the trigger fully. You expect the loud boom but you do not expect to feel the entire rifle revolt against your grip, slamming into your shoulder. You stumble back with a small yelp, much to the enjoyment of the spectators around you. 

Locke tosses his head back and laughs, his shoulders shaking. 

“What the hell was that?” You stammer. Ran takes the rifle from you, freeing your hands to rub at your shoulder. 

“Recoil. To be honest, I expected to you land on your ass,” Locke chuckles.

“You might have given me some warning.”

“Where is the fun in that?” The pirate says. 

“Well, once I confirm that my shoulder hasn’t been launched from its socket, I’m going to make you waltz and we’ll see how you do,” You mutter, still testing the soreness in your arm and shoulder. “If you complete the waltz without tripping, you’ll win. Is that fair?” That seems fair to you since Locke expected the rifle’s recoil to send you to the ground. 

“Easy enough,” he agrees. 

“Good. Stand here.” You direct him to stand in front of you. “Watch my feet.”

With a phantom partner, you demonstrate the basic steps of a waltz before returning to Locke. 

“Got it?” You ask. 

“Yes,” Locke nods though he does not seem very confident. 

“Good. Remember, if you trip, I win.” You place his hands in the correct positions and do the same for yourself. He’s much taller and broader than anyone you’ve ever danced with. Your arms feel suspended in an awkward way that almost makes you laugh. 

“I don’t suppose we have any music?” 

“Depends. Can one play a waltz on the side of a barrel?” Jinx asks. 

“Likely not,” you chuckle. “It’s no matter. I will count out the beat. That won’t be too difficult for you, will it?” You taunt Locke who only nods. 

You begin to count, but nothing happens. Locke stands stock still. 

“You’re the man. You’re supposed to lead,” you prompt him. 

“Right. Naturally,” he grumbles and waits for you to begin your count. When you do, he steps forward instead of backward, trampling your foot. You hold in your laughter as you shake your head. 

“I didn’t think you’d stumble on the very first step,” you tease. “Had I known such a game would be so easy to win I would have joined the fun sooner.”

“I’ve never done any of that fancy Piltover dancing before. Let me try again,” Locke mutters. “It’s a stupid dance. It’s not that hard.”

“If you say so,” you shrug before taking up position again. You begin to count once more. To Locke’s credit, he manages two steps before stumbling, earning a round of laughter from the crew. 

“What is the meaning of this?” A voice like a burst of cold wind blew over the deck. Silco stood at the top of the stairs leading to his cabin. The laughter amongst the crew faded into nothing. Only Jinx looked unaffected by the Captain’s sudden presence. 

“A friendly challenge,” you explain. “Nothing more.”

“I can see that,” Silco says as he steps closer to the cluster of burning torches. The firelight casts his face in harsh shadows that make him look even more inhuman than he already does. “But I cannot allow the crew of the Zaun’s Revenge to look incompetent. Locke, step aside.”

“Aye, Captain.” The confusion is clear in his voice as he stumbles back. You are unable to fully hide your confusion as well, especially when Silco steps before you and takes your hand. 

“The honor of the Zaun’s Revenge is at stake. You will not leave this ship under the misbelief that no one here can execute a decent waltz.” 

Well, that’s an unexpected development. 

“Do what you are able,” you reply with a note of challenge in your voice that does not go unnoticed by your new partner. You bring your hand to rest on his shoulder as you prepare to dance. “One more thing,” he says before looking to his crew. “Walley, do you still have that old fiddle?” 

“Aye, Captain.” 

“Fetch it.”

The crewmember scurried away and quickly returned with the promised fiddle. 

“Play Across a Sea so Clear and Blue, ” Silco orders before looking down at you. “I doubt you know it but it will suffice for a waltz. Surely, you can adapt.”

“Surely,” you bristle. 

Walley beings to play his fiddle. Though you do not know the song, the time signature is well-suited for a waltz. You wait for Silco to lead you into the dance, expecting him to miscount or falter but he doesn’t. The pair of you move across the deck as though you’ve done this a hundred times before and plan to do it a hundred times more. 

You quickly adjust to each other’s movements and soon he leaves room for you to add flourishes to the simple steps, which you do without hesitation. Your movements are slow and precise. As you dance with him, you cannot help but think of how different this is from the passion you shared during the storm. Silco leads you through the dance expertly, trusting you to be a competent partner. This isn’t a show of dominance or power but a display of grace and unity. Two bodies moving as one to create something elegant and lovely. 

The song ends far too soon, as does the dance. You feel breathless even though the dance was not at all physically demanding. You’re speechless even as your body moves you through the motions of curtsying to your partner. 

Thankfully, Jinx appears at your side. She’s nearly vibrating with excitement. 

“How did you do that? You looked like you were floating!” She says, looking between you and Silco. Her question is a good one. 

Where does a pirate learn how to waltz, let alone waltz so well? 

“I…” You start only to trail off. “I need a drink.”

You move away from Silco, back to your abandoned cup. You force yourself to take a sip and you are grateful that it goes down easier this time. The alcohol settles in your belly and dulls the unwanted feelings swirling through you. 

Jinx joins you soon and within minutes, the crew is back to swapping stories and boasting as though the waltz never happened. 

Your gaze wanders to the bow. Though that part of the ship is kept in darkness, Silco’s figure is even darker and you can see him easily. 

Curiosity and something deeper that you do not wish to think about tugs at you. You do your best to ignore it for as long as you are able, but it’s like a persistent buzzing fly hovering around your head. 

With a resigned sigh, you get up and move toward the bow. No one stops you or questions you. 

You reach Silco’s side and stand quietly in the darkness for a moment. You can hear the gentle lap of the water against the ship’s hull and you can see the sparkling array of stars above, but everything else is black. 

“If you’ve come to beg for another dance, I’m afraid I will disappoint you,” Silco says, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it, as though he does not wish the stars to overhear him. 

“I wasn’t going to,” you say. “But I was going to ask where you learned to dance like that.”

“It does not take much to learn how to waltz,” he says. Though you cannot see his face, save for the glow of his ruined eye, you get the sense that he’s avoiding something. 

“It’s not just that,” you say. “You dance like a gentleman. You carry yourself like a gentleman. You speak like a gentleman, for the most part. Yet, you’re…”

“A pirate? A sea hound? A scoundrel? A criminal?”

“You could have stopped at pirate but yes,” you nod, earning a soft chuckle from Silco. “But even still, you’re nothing like the pirates my father has encountered.” 

“I’ll admit to that,” he says. “I am not like any other pirate roaming the seas. I have no wish to scavenge from trade ships. If I wished to fight for scraps with a thousand other desperate fools, I would have stayed in the Undercity.” 

Silco does not need to see your face to know his words have thrown you. 

“Is it more believable that a pirate can carry himself well than it is to believe a gutter rat can do the same?” 

“I have not known what to believe for several days now,” you say. “I’d be willing to believe almost anything.” 

The chuckle that leaves Silco’s throat is dry and humorless. “The Piltover Naval Academy loves bottomfeeders with a sad story.” 

Your eyes widen in the darkness. 

Of course, that makes perfect sense. He wasn’t daunted by the storm. He runs his ship with precision and discipline one would not attribute to ordinary pirates. He’s managed to instill a sense of both fear and loyalty in his crew. And those who attend the academy are taught etiquette, dance, deportment, and anything else that can shape them into shining jewels of society. 

Your mind snaps back to the day you were kidnapped, before everything went to hell. Captain Vander spoke of the academy briefly. There was a moment when a shadow fell over his features as he spoke of his past. And he knew Silco. As did Quartermaster Benzo. 

“Did you know Captain Vander?” You ask softly, unsure if you wish to know the answer or not. 

Silence stretches out between you and Silco. Even though you are within arms reach of him, you feel as though you may as well be an ocean away. 

“Yes.” His voice is soft yet somehow still harsh. Bitter but sad. 

“Were you…close?” you ask, unsure if there is a better way to phrase it. The way Captain Vander looked at Silco aboard The Hound went beyond normal anger. There was history there. 

“For a time,” Silco replies. 

You’re shocked that he gave you any kind of real answer. 

“What happened?” You press, wanting to see how far you can take your questions. 

“Professional differences,” Silco mutters. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does.” 

Silco turns to look at you as silence falls once more. Though you can barely make out his features, you can see he is fighting some kind of war within himself. You are about to take the high road and apologize for prying, as the rules of polite conversation demand, when the ship suddenly heaves hard to one side. 

Unable to right yourself in time, you start to fall. Silco’s arm snakes around your waist as he pulls you to him, allowing you to use his body to steady yourself. Farther down the deck, the crew voices their confusion amongst themselves, unsettled by the sudden jolt. 

“What was that?” You ask, turning your gaze to the sky as though you expect another terrible storm to blow in out of nowhere. But the skies are perfectly clear and the wind is calm. The ocean, however, tells a different story. The faint light of the torches reaches the water closest to the ship. Instead of the calm, docile sea, the Zaun’s Revenge glided on only moments ago, the water was as violent as a bubbling cauldron. 

“Get back,” Silco urges, guiding you away from the railing. 

“What is it?” You repeat. 

Silco does not get a chance to answer. In the blink of an eye, the sea erupts. At first, you fear the ship has nudged some kind of explosive. You can think of nothing else that would explain the towering column of water rising just off the starboard bow. 

The water crashes back down to the ocean’s surface except that it doesn’t. Water rolls off the form of something huge, something that also looks like water. You blink over and over, trying to make sense of what you are seeing. 

You spot two glowing orbs that shine brilliant blue, brighter than any star in the sky. They look like glowing stones that are somehow perfectly round. Your stomach drops as the crew leaps to action around you and more torches are quickly illuminated. The glowing stones are not stones at all. 

They are eyes. 

Glowing, unnatural eyes deeply set into a massive head made entirely of living water. The head boasts a long snout. Water vapor floated like smoke from what you believe to be nostrils. Its long, curving neck ripples as the water that made up its body somehow managed to keep its shape. Its serpentine body vanishes into the sea as its proud head takes in the sight of the ship. Its watery jaw opens revealing long, sharp teeth that look deadly despite also being made of water. 

The creature let out a shriek that makes your vision go blurry for a moment. Your mind still grapples with what your eyes attempt to understand but there is one thing you know for certain. You are not safe. 

The water monster shrieks once more and dives toward the deck with open jaws. 

[stinkysam]

Monkey D. Luffy - Maybe the paradise was the friends we made along the way.

Warning : slight marineford spoilers

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : "let's say reader's dream is to find "paradise" and he's so so close to get it but that means leaving luffy and the crew behind so he has to say the goodbye (with some tears ofc) then the crew leaves but days even months later they're under danger and unexpectedly reader arrives to help them, when they all see him back it's bc he realized that the crew and luffy were his home and paradise (ofc he confesses to luffy in that moment lol)" - @vainillacookie

Reader : gender neutral (you/yours)

A/N : since it's canon everything that happened before the timeskip happened in a few months, readers comes back before the timeskip, so during the marineford arc

"Are you sure ?" Asked Nami.

"Mh. I have to."

"We're going to miss you." Said Usopp.

"We better hear about you." Added Zoro.

"For once, I agree." Sanji said, lighting a cigarette.

You chuckled at their words and hugged them too, your hand patting their backs. You were going to miss them.

"You will. And I'll be back before you get to miss me. I'm close, I can feel it."

They smiled back at you, supporting your need to go a separate way for your dream.

"If you need us…" Nami began.

"Yeah, call us and the great captain Usopp will come to you !"

"Thank you, guys…" You smiled as you gave them a wave, before turning and walking away, leaving the kitchen.

Only one person remained.

Luffy.

He didn't understand why you had to go alone to find that damned "paradise".

You could find it together in the Grand Line ! But you had apparently already made up your mind.

"[Name], I'm sure we'll find it on the way ! Just like the All Blue for Sanji !"

"It isn't said it's in the Grand Line, Luffy."

"And ?"

"It means I have to roam all the seas to find it, but you, it's said it's in the Grand Line so you only have there to go !"

Luffy crosses his arms and frowns, clearly disagreeing but unable to come up with something.

"I still don't think it's a good idea."

"I'll come back when I find it."

"..." He stared at you, unsure. "You promise ?" His voice is softer, interest piqued.

"Yes. I promise, Luffy."

"Because if you don't, we'll come for you." He announced, still frowning.

"I know. I hope so."

He hummed, groaning, not wanting to let you go. You smiled sadly at him, ready to say your goodbyes and he quickly wrapped his arms around you to hug you.

"You better come back." He said quietly, a small smile on his face. "You'll always be a part of our crew."

You nodded, hugging him back, holding him as close as you could before parting. You tried your best not to cry, not really wanting to leave just yet. But you had to.

"Find it. Find that paradise."

"On it, Captain." You smiled in return, kissing his cheek on a whim before leaving the Merry, planning to stay in Logue Town for a few more days to continue your research.

Days had passed and your search continued. You had found a small boat and left Logue Town. You visited islands after islands to find your paradise and quickly days turned into weeks as you roamed the other seas. You couldn't stop thinking about your friends and Luffy, often seeing their bounty show up in the newspaper, always growing. It seemed like he made new friends along the way. Chopper, Robin, Franky and Brook.

-

Months had passed and you were now on the Grand Line, looking for Luffy.

You hadn't given up on your dream, you still knew that Paradise existed but now you knew where.

Why did pirates have to speak in riddles all the time and hide everything ? Couldn't they just say things ?

Luckily for you, you knew where to find Luffy. You've heard his brother was going to be executed and there was no way he wouldn't go there to try and save him. So you did the same, hoping you'd find him amongst all those marines and pirates.

You ran and ran, killing everyone that tried to stop you until you saw him, wearing a yellow shirt.

"Luffy !" You yelled running to him.

His eyes widened and a smile instantly appeared on his face. He kicked a few marines on the face as he ran to you, arms wide open, ready to welcome you in.

Within seconds you were reunited, lengths of arms wrapped around you, caging you against him as he laughed.

"What are you doing here ?! Did you find your paradise ? Are you coming back ?"

You laughed at his questions, he looked so happy to have found you.

"Yes, I found it now, it's by your side, Luffy."

He looked at you, slightly confused by your words.

"What ? I'm the paradise ?!" He smiled, laughing, not understanding.

"Yes, no. The crew is the paradise. You're my paradise, Luffy !" You cupped his cheeks and he grinned.

"So you're coming back ?"

"Yes !"

"Good ! Because I was growing impati-"

You cut him off by kissing him, unable to wait any longer, not caring if it was in the middle of a war with deadly enemies everywhere.

When you parted, Luffy giggled, smiling. Despite everything going on, Luffy was happy. He had you, and was going to save Ace.

[x-plain-cherik-ffs]

AVENGERS ASSEMBLE VS MCU - the post.

We’re going to compare both universes :), so buckle up and get ready bc this is gonna be a wild ride.

( this isn’t my way to try and point which one is better, I love them both, but it’s my opinion )

1- THE AVENGERS.

MCU’s avengers are full of angst. I think their film has the biggest joke count, but they spend like 80% of the saga arguing, which, I gotta admit, makes better their bonding moments, but still.

Steve’s the leader.

AA’s avengers are the dream team. They do not work together anymore but they assemble one more time to save their friend ( because that’s what they are, friends ) and then keep working together. They know each other, they understand how everyone works and are practically a well-oiled machine.

Tony is the leader.

MCU’s Avengers work together because they need to, AA’s because they want to, and it shows in the team dynamics.

2- STEVE AND TECH/PAST

Both Steves are old men, so we obviously can’t expect them to be as skilled with technology as anyone who was born after the eighties.

MCU’s Steve lives in the past. He tries to adapt to the future but we can’t see him actually trying to live there. When he has the chance to go live with Peggy in the 50s, he takes it. We don’t know if he gave it much thought, but he spent years in the twentieth century and he still couldn’t find a single reason to stay.

( Natasha and Tony were dead, but he still had Buck, Sam, Clint, Thor, Bruce Sharon, Peter P, the rest of the avengers… )

When AA’s Steve was given the opportunity to return to the Second World War with Peggy, he realised that his life was now there.

He was used to searching on the internet, and holograms, and murderous robots, and phone calls, and spaceships and else. He was used to the avengers, to having a team. A family.

And he knew he couldn’t give that up.

He wants to honor his past, not live in it.

[ also here’s a link with cool headcanons I really liked about this ]

As OP said in her post: people like to forget that modern technology is really intuitive, and Steve shouldn’t have that much trouble using it.

Pd: in AA there’s a scene in which Tony promises Steve to help him understand technology, one step at a time without it being overwhelming, if he teaches him how to be a little more “Analog”.

I’m not saying either of them ( Steves ) loves technology, but only one of them introduces it into his life and is eager to learn about it even if it’s hard for him.

3- HOWARD STARK

I wanted to talk about it given that in both universes Howard has appeared and/or has been talked about by Tony.

Neither AA nor MCU had me satisfied with this point.

⛔️( TW: alcoholism, parent abuse, underage drinking until after the green light )⛔️

Howard Stark is known to be a shitty dad in every universe. In the comics, he verbally and physically abused Tony and because of that he turned his back to people, because they, unlike machines, were too unpredictable. He forced him to drink alcohol from a young age, he tried to trade him to Dracula for immortality, he fought him in hell, he sent him to a boarding school because he wasn’t “man enough” and there are many fucking more.

Both Tonys have trouble with self-worth, building relationships, talking his problems, showing weakness and are always trying to make themselves necessary, and whose fault is that? Exactly. ✳️

They spent years resenting Howard for everything he did and everything he was not ( a caring, supportive, DECENT parent ) ( which they had all the right to do ), and still they tried to live up to his expectations. Even dead he was still making them feel not enough.

He always compared them to Steve Rogers, the perfect soldier and the perfect man, which made Tony resent Steve too when he met him.

What does this prove? Resentment is corrosive ( see what I did there? ) and Tony had no reason to love Howard! He only felt bad, insecure and unsafe around him, and all he makes him feel before and after his death was self-loath and resentment.

Maybe AA and MCU’s Howard didn’t do all that, but the series/films still showed that he wasn’t a good father either.

MCU’s Howard told Tony in endgame he already loved his son even if he hadn’t even been born yet. [ literal words: Let me tell you, that kid’s not even here yet, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him ] This initially comes as sweet, right? Because he loved Tony.

But when you think about it, this means that Tony didn’t live up to his expectations, like it was his fault his father didn’t like/love him and he failed even if he didn’t do anything. He literally said he loved him more when he wasn’t there than when he was. He told him he did something wrong, when all he was doing was be himself.

No wonder he has self-esteem issues.

He didn’t do anything for him, except filling him up with trauma.

Both Howards said that Tony was their greatest creation. ( MCU’s a few moments after neglecting him and make him feel like a nuisance ), as if the way Tony turned out ( a good, intelligent, caring man ) had anything to do with him. He turned out that way TO NOT BE like him. Because all the shit he had to go through made him care.

He was never there for Tony, he TAPED himself doing fatherly-things instead of teaching them to his own son personally ( okay, he died, but Tony was like 17 when he did, he had the time, he just didn’t spend it with him ) [ https://smthgavengersassemble.tumblr.com/post/160060510540 ]

And when Steve talks about them in both universes, he does it as if he were a hero and Tony had to make him proud. AND TONY AGREES.

[ AA 2x17- Transcript -

Tony: you don’t get it, Arsenal was my father’s greatest creation

Steve: no, you don’t get it. Arsenal’s not you father’s greatest creation. You are. Make him proud, Tony ]

*GASPS*

THE AUDACITY!

When they met him as their adult-selves, they hugged him and had conversations with him as if he wasn’t ( in the best case ) an absent parent and ( in the worst ) an abusive one.

[ Here’s a nice post about that ]

So can anyone really be mad about Tony not trusting people or coming off as “mean” or “harsh” just because he’s afraid of getting hurt?

Next time I talk to a Howard Stark apologist I will commit a crime.

4- TEAM DYNAMICS

AA’s Tony is the leader, though he’ll take Steve advice blindly. He usually calls the shots but everyone’s free to give their ideas ( which will be heard and taken into consideration ). The rest of the team mostly just follow Steve and Tony’s orders because in the heat of the battle there isn’t much time for consideration.

AA’s Tony is sarcastic, charismatic, practical, intelligent ( duh ) and mathematical. He’s all about probabilities and physics and stuff, but he also has his moments of what I call “believing in the power of love”, which basically means acknowledging that being human, “vulnerable” and different from each other is what actually makes them invincible and unbreakable.

When he jokes he does it to make people believe he’s funny or to make them laugh ( at least that’s what I think )

MCU’s Tony is all of the above except “the power of love” moments. He loves humanity but he doesn’t acknowledge it as much as AA’s does.

When he jokes he doesn’t do it to come up as “funny”. He’ll say everything and If it’s fun, cool. If not, he doesn’t care.

He’s cool, tired, and he has spent all of the saga adopting every child he’s come across [ Dad!Tony Stark ]

AA’s Steve is way less problematic than MCU’s. He’s lighter, takes things seriously but not to an extreme. He cares about trainings and being prepared, he takes his job seriously and is very responsible.

MCU’s Steve is more serious, we don’t see him worry a lot about everyone training, just him. He cares about plans and preparation. He is also more conflictive.

In AA when Steve and Tony have a disagreement they talk, and they don’t attack each other ( verbally or physically ). They communicate. In the MCU all they do is fight and accuse each other, never really talking, but arguing because the other doesn’t make things the way they would.

[ this post shows the differences between AA and MCU’s Steve ( and Stony ) perfectly: ]

Clint ( ah, where to begin with )

AA’s Clint has nothing to do with MCU’s.

They literally just share the name and the aim.

AA’s is more like 616’s Clint. He’s carefree, cocky, fun, cool… he’s like the teenager who thought he was a cool kid. He loves food and 80% of his dialogues are bad puns ( or really good ones ), and he wears glasses because of the aesthetic.

MCU’s is serious, a certified dad. He jokes sometimes but nothing to really remember him for.

Nat is Clint’s best friend in every universe.

Gotta admit it, I like MCU’s Nat more than I do AA’s ( even though

In AA she is like this serious, mean, badass, harsh, mom of the group lesbian. ( she’s not a lesbian but she could be ), and I love her, but MCU’s more elegant while still being all of the above, and that’s the Natasha we love and would die for.

AA’s Thor is comics’ Thor. He talks like he’s a thousand years old ( which he is ) and has all this respect for the war and the customs of each culture.

MCU’s Thor is like some dummy in comparison. In the first two movies he’s serious and war-like, but in the last two he’s a lighter, funnier, sort-of-dumber version. ( Don’t saying I don’t love him, NOBODY CAN HATE THOR )

Now Hulk. In AA we usually just get to see Hulk, not Banner, and we gotta admit that Hulk is smarter in the series than in the MCU.

In the MCU we get to see Banner, which is a plus, and even though he’s not my favourite character I don’t dislike him.

And last, but not least, Falcon. Now if the hawkeyes were different, this is a whole other level.

They don’t have ANYTHING in common. Not even the age.

They’re both Sam Wilson and they’re both Falcon. That’s it.

In AA he’s practically still a kid, he’s like 20 years old and really smart. He usually helps Tony in the lab and creates stuff of his own too, but he shares Steve’s patriotism. He’s a mommy’s kid and he’s the newbie, but he doesn’t really shine.

In the MCU he’s a middle-aged man, ex-soldier and gives the best advice. He’s really sure of himself, he started off as a secondary character but now he’s a protagonist and captain America ( loved that ). He really steals the thunder when he’s in the scene, and he’s cool af.

AA’s avengers are much closer than MCU’s. They share things in common, experiences, they live together. There’s a certain domesticity we can see in each chapter, plus the banter and the “Hulk finished all the popcorn” stuff. They also help each other out, they have their bonding moments, they get over their pasts with each other’s help… they can count on each other unconditionally.

[ There was a time they were fighting Thanos and they won, so they were in the tricarrier and Steve felt something was off. He acted in consequence, and told the team Thanos was messing with their minds. He said “don’t you feel something’s not right?” ( or something like that ) and Tony answered “No, but if you do that’s good enough for me”. AND THEY ALL FOUGHT AGAINST THANOS. Now, THAT’s TRUST. THAT’s TEAMWORK ]

( credit to @justlous-art )

In the MCU they have some sort of strict-work relationship because they’ve proved that they can’t be together without a war for more than five minutes, at least on screen. We’ve seen them have parties and eat together, but it’s not like they’re actually connecting ( short of Nat & Clint, Nat & Steve and Hulk/Banner & Thor ).

That doesn’t mean they don’t care for each other deeply or that they can’t be considered friends, after all they’ve been through together there’s no doubt they care, just that they don’t share the same relationship and there are some parts missing.

5- AVENGERS DISASSEMBLED/CIVIL WAR

Now here’s something really simple and really complicated at the same time.

These two events happened because of different reasons.

When the avengers disassembled in AA it was because Tony kept important secrets regarding the team’s and Earth’s well-being and safety. He was putting them in danger, running blindly into the unknown, and Steve gave him a few opportunities to amend that, and he knew that he was on thin ice, but still he didn’t.

Steve told him he couldn’t be in a team where he couldn’t trust the leadership, so he left, and Hulk, Falcon and Natasha left with him.

They formed two different teams, one lead by Tony and other by Steve ( who was working with shield ) and even though they weren’t on talking terms, they still worked together ( not merrily, there was a lot of angst between them ) to save the Earth.

MCU’s reason to disband was that they didn’t agree on the sokovia accords

( here’s how each Steve thinks about that btw )

I admit it makes a little sense given the government’s punishments, but it all went downhill in the moment the winter soldier came up.

Now, I understand that MCU’s reason to cause a civil war was much bigger than the accords, and their reactions weren’t so off given that the winter soldier was the murderer of Tony’s parents and Bucky was Steve’s best friend, so I’m not gonna comment on that because I myself couldn’t have done it better.

We all can understand that in the heat of the moment we don’t make rational decisions, and peace was not an option in the moment Tony discovered Steve knew almost everything from the beginning and didn’t tell him. ( that was a shitty-person move ) ( Steve totally took Tony’s trust, spat on it and threw it under a truck )

In the link above we can see this gif, which I think counts as a conclusion for this point.

6- STONY

This is the last point, and the one I’ve been looking forward to.

There’s no doubt AA’s Stony is full of sweet, playful banter, care, mistakes, amends, fun, trust and forgiveness.

AA’s stony is the home of gay!Tony and bi!Steve, the fluff one-shot. Mutual pining, best friends to lovers, idiots in love!

MCU’s is more of a bi!Tony, gay!Steve, angsty 300k slowburn. It’s the enemies to lovers version, full of hurt/comfort.

It completely depends on what you want, and that’s totally up to the viewer/reader.

( I personally love AA :)) )

AND THAT’S IT!! THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TED-TALK!

This one is the friends-to-lovers, established relationship, fluff, one-shot version. The bi!Steve, gay!Tony version.

MCU’s Stony is the Angsty enemies-to-lovers and emotional hurt-comfort slow burn. The bi!Tony, gay!Steve version.

( credit to @dakt37 )

What you choose depends on what you like best, it’s simply a matter of preferences.

[bonkwosher]

Poly!Lacho x GN!Reader ~ Enemy Within

A/N: Cheesy title? Lmao Idc. This is to go along with this pitch I made. I'm so excited to make it I have been planning this out in my head for days. Also, there simply aren't enough gifs with both Lalo & Nacho in them. I already know this is going to be long so you guys are getting a word count section LMAO. Side note: I may or may not have stolen the pet names Lalo & Nacho give the reader from @asgardianangel03 (CHECK OUT THEIR LACHO X READER FIC IT INSPIRED EVERYTHING I WRITE) bc they fit so well.

Prompt: Lacho (Lalo x Nacho) x Reader where Lalo & Nacho live in a big home & eventually the reader either stays the night or ends up living with them. This is in the time when Lalo & Gus are going head to head & thanks to Mike, Gus knows about the reader. Gus orders his men to kidnap the reader, beat them up, then frees them & pretends to be a good samaritan that saves them & brings them home to Lalo & Nacho. Gus uses this to get into Lalo & Nacho's home to find out their plans & Lalo & Nacho, who haven't told the reader about their business, are freaking out that Gus is now basically the reader's best friend. ~ Yours Truly

Contains: Kidnapping, short mention of assault, blood, manipulation

Word Count: 3818 (I WENT CRAZY)

[Part 1] | Part 2

Lalo & Ignacio sat in the former's study, trying their best to keep their argues to a whisper. They had convinced you they were going on a business trip that night. Inconspicuous, easy, nothing could go wrong. That's what Lalo told his husband over & over but Ignacio would not hear it.

"Fring has to know about Y/N, you know what he'll do. I don't want to leave them here!" He whisper yelled, shoulders tense & clear fear in his eyes.

"Ignacio, it will be two nights alone & my men will be here. If you don't remember, you two are married to a cartel don (CANON AHH), my people will keep them safe."

Ignacio shushed his husband, stopping his blatant gloating. He had three things he wanted to protect, his father, his husband & their partner. Ignacio knew Y/N was in danger.

"You think Fring cares about the cartel!? YOUR UNCLE KILLED HIS BOYFRIEND!"

Lalo jumped up & covered Ignacio's mouth. You heard yelling from the living room where you had been waiting for your partners to finish discussing. It was incoherent but the volume alone scared you. You walked briskly over to Lalo's study & knocked on the door. Lalo opened the door enough to reveal his signature Lalo smile.

"Sí, querida?" He asked cheerily.

"Are you guys okay?" You asked, genuinely worried.

Ignacio pushed past Lalo, opening the door fully, & held your face in both hands, "Yes, ángel, we just had a disagreement about one of Lalo's restaurants, El Michoacáno."

Ignacio placed a kiss on your lips & gave you a soft & terribly convincing smile. You couldn't help but melt.

"What does Lalo want to do with El Michoacáno?" You asked, looking past Ignacio to see your other partner.

"He wants to abandon it," Ignacio glared back at Lalo before walking off into the kitchen.

"Abandon is a strong word, mi corazón!" Lalo chased after him.

Lalo grabbed Ignacio's arm & he whipped around, poking angrily at Lalo, "If they," Ignacio took a gulp, "If your business gets hurt... that's on you!"

Ignacio ripped his arm away from Lalo & went outside, likely to work out his emotions. He wanted to stay home with you, to keep you safe, but Lalo insisted that Ignacio had to join him for this meeting. Being asked to choose between his partners is impossible, so in the end he told Lalo this would be the one time he left Y/N home by themself. Lalo thanked him too many times to count & promised you would be safe.

In what feels like a whole different world, but really is just across town, Gustavo Fring was planning. His best man, Mike Ehrmantraut, sat across him at his desk inside a Los Pollos Hermanos restaurant. Mike placed a set of photos on the table & spread them out all facing his boss. Gus took a long moment to take all the details in. The images were all of you. You at work, you at home, you in your backyard, & you at dinner with Lalo & Ignacio. Gus pulled the last photo close to him & picked it up. The three of you looked so happy. Nacho sat next to you in the booth, you sitting next to the large window allowing a clear view of each one of you. You were all dressed nicely & waiting for your food. You held one of each of your partner's hands.

"This is their partner?" Gus asked with a monotone voice.

"Yes, as far as I can tell they have been together for a long time. Y/N lives with them down on acapulco drive."

"Put your men on the house, when you find the right moment... take them."

"Alright," Mike replied, standing up.

Gus waited for Mike to open the door before speaking, "If there are any witnesses, kill them. This needs to be foolproof."

That night, Lalo brought both his own & Ignacio's bags to his car. Their meeting would be tomorrow morning, they'd stay the night for one of Eladio's parties & bring him gifts, then return home the next night. He heaved the bags into the trunk then closed it while Ignacio gave you a tight hug.

"I love you so much, Y/N. I'll miss you every second," he spoke into your hair as he ran his hand through it.

It was oddly sentimental like it was the last time he was ever going to see you. You brushed it off knowing it was just a trip to one of Lalo's restaurants in Mexico. Lalo turned with a huge smile on his face & Ignacio beelined to the passenger side door, still upset with his husband. Lalo pulled you to him with an arm wrapped around your waist causing you to blush.

"We'll be home as soon as we can, querida," he promised genuinely.

"I hope so, I love you both. It's going to be hard by myself."

"You'll do fine, call us if you need anything."

With that Lalo took a step back, kissing down your arm. With each kiss, he got a bit further away from you until he reached your hand.

"I love you," he smirked, giving you one last kiss on the hand before heading to the car.

You watched them pull out of the driveway, Lalo putting a comforting hand on his husband's thigh which was inevitably swatted at. You could hear Lalo's, 'Aye! That hurt!' from his cracked window as they drove off, causing you to chuckle. You let out a yawn before heading inside, ready to go to sleep after a long day.

Mike, who had heard the whole conversation from his car parked a bit down the street, lifted a walkie-talkie to his mouth, "Give it five minutes, if the coast is clear go in."

You got into some comfy clothes, one of Ignacio's shirts & Lalo's pants, & climbed into bed. You laid down in the middle of the large bed & pulled one of your partners' pillows to your chest. You already felt a bit sad that they were gone, letting out a soft sigh. It's okay, you'll make it. The door flung open causing you to lurch out of bed, four men with guns piled into the room pointing their guns & flashlights at you.

"What- Who are you?" Your voice trembled as you raised your arms above your heads.

One man walked up to you wordlessly & slammed his pistol into your head, effectively knocking you out. The man threw you over his shoulder & got behind two of the men, one behind him, & the group made their way out. They walked out of the house past a car with two of Lalo's men inside who were shot dead. You were bound & placed in the back of one of the cars that your assailants had come in. One of the men in the group left to dispose of the car & the bodies while the others headed off to Gus.

You woke up feeling immense pain in your forehead. You were trapped in a room with white walls & gray, concrete floors. You weren't bound any longer but you felt weak. You got up & walked to the door, turning the knob. It was locked. Panic raced through your body as you remembered the men in your home. You were kidnapped. They must have targeted you because they knew you were home alone, at least that's what you thought. A large, buff man entered the room & dragged you by the shirt into another room.

"No, please- don't do this," you begged as he grabbed your wrists, locking you into cuffs above your head.

"Shut up!" He grunted.

You obeyed, not wanting to get hurt any worse than he intended to hurt you. Hours & hours of grueling pain, you swore if there were windows it would be broad daylight by now. When the man uncuffed you, you fell to the floor. You couldn't bring yourself to stand up or even move, for that matter. He lifted you up to make you sit against the wall & pulled out a camera.

"Smile," he mocked before taking a picture, "Your husband is going to give me so much money for your dumbass."

A fabrication made to think you were just a ransom. Gus Fring had come up with such an intricate plan to weave himself into your life, it even scared Mike a little. Using you as a way to get into Lalo & Nacho's personal life with you on the verge of finding out about their real business as leverage, not to mention showing he could kill you if he wanted to. The man left the room, staring at his phone. He did exactly as he was told & left the door unlocked. Gus noticed, from behind a two-way mirror, that you had realized the door was unlocked.

"Nows your time to shine, Fring," the man walked into the adjacent room.

Gus nodded & walked out towards his car, turning it on & pulling out of the parking lot. You used all your strength to get up & hobble over to the door. You opened it & let out an airy laugh, you could escape this. You looked out into the hallway to see a door open to the outside, baiting you in that direction. You sprinted outside just as Gus pulled back into the parking lot. You begged him to open the door & he quickly leaned over & opened the passenger side door. You climbed in & ordered him to pull away. Once you couldn't see the plain white building in the distance you turned to Gus.

"Thank you so much."

"Are you okay?! What was that, why are you covered in blood?" Gus flawlessly put on a scared good samaritan act.

"I- this man took me. He- he-" You began to feel really dizzy.

"Are you alright, do we need to go to the hospital?"

"I- I think I'll be..." You fell forward, going limp.

Amazingly, just as Gus planned. He turned around & right back to the building. His man met him at the passenger side door & carried you inside & into a separate room. Dr. Barry Goodman, his doctor from Mexico, was flown in just for this to work. The man rested you on the hospital bed & Dr. Goodman gave you meds to knock you out. He watched the torture that you had been through, instructing the man to stop when he thought you'd be close to losing enough blood to pass out. Now he had to patch you up. He placed you on your back & peeled back your shirt, knowing you'd be in immense pain if you were awake. This was going to be a lot of work.

In Mexcio, around the time the doctor finished patching you up, Ignacio & Lalo were preparing for Don Eladio's party. Ignacio paced the room wiping sweat off his face.

"Qué ocurre, mi corazón? (What's wrong, my heart?)" Lalo asked as he buttoned his shirt.

"No respondieron a mis mensajes de texto (They did not respond to my texts)," Ignacio spoke softly, worry coursing through his veins.

Lalo grabbed Ignacio's shoulders & put on a reassuring smile, "¡Todo está bien! Estoy seguro de que están demasiado ocupados divirtiéndose (Everything is fine! I'm sure they are just too busy having fun)."

"¿Llamaste a tus hombres? (Did you call your men?)" Ignacio looked deep into Lalo's eyes, looking for either hope or comfort.

"Sí, sí, Ignacio. ¡Dijeron que nuestra querida está bien! (Yes, yes, Ignacio. They said our darling is fine!)" Lalo reassured his husband, pulling him into a hug, "You're too paranoid, go get dressed."

"Alright, te quiero (I love you)," Ignacio sighed before turning to his suitcase.

Lalo pulled out his phone feeling fear finally hit him. His men hadn't responded. He thought they were just ignoring his texts, he refused to believe any worse. He began furiously typing, 'Idiotas, contesten su teléfono. Necesito una actualización sobre la seguridad de mi pareja. (You idiots, answer your phone. I need an update on my partner's safety.)"

You woke up to the sound of a heart monitor beeping. You saw Gus on the other side of the small room, seemingly giving a police officer a summary of what happened to you. When the man dressed as a cop noticed you were awake, he walked to your side.

"Hello, Mx. can you tell me your name?"

"Y/N L/N."

"I'm sorry that we had to meet on such circumstances, Mx. L/N, but I need to know anything you know about the man that kidnapped you."

You told the man everything you remembered down to the mole on the guy's cheek. You noted the color of the building on the outside & any small detail that came to mind. The man nodded as you rambled, writing down the things you said.

"Alright, thank you Mx. L/N. We will find this man & bring him to justice. I have given Mr. Fring my number & I'll get you updates on the case through him."

You nodded & thanked the man, his weird method of communication made sense in your drugged up stupor. The doctor took the officer's place with a small bottle in hand. Gus walked to your other side.

"The doctor said you can go home after he gives you the medication you were prescribed. If you tell me where you live, I can drive you home."

"Umm, 712 Acapulco Drive. I don't have my keys but I think there's a spare key hidden under a rock," you blabbed.

"Mx. L/N, I'm going to give you some pain medication. They're going to make you really sleepy, alright? Then your new friend Gus will take you home," the man tried to make light of the situation while giving you Fring's name.

You nodded, feeling the meds hit you seconds later. You laid back in your hospital bed & let yourself fall asleep, believing you were in safe hands now. By the time Gus got you home it was late at night & Lalo had a bad feeling in his gut. He texted you that he & Ignacio were coming home. Gus had laid you down on the couch on your stomach & taken your phone & neglected opening any messages to avoid getting caught. Gus walked into the kitchen & made you a cup of tea, he heard you wake up when the pot went off.

"Gus?" You asked while sitting up on the couch.

"Yes? I thought I'd make you some tea, it always makes me feel better!" He gave you a cheery voice, the same he'd give his customers when he asked how their food was.

"Oh," you paused out of shock from the stranger's kindness, "Thank you."

The moment Gus stepped into the living room, the front door flung open, scaring you both. Lalo had his hand on his gun, which rested on his hip, hidden in the waistband of his pants. The world froze for Lalo. He pulled Ignacio behind him & analyzed every inch of you & Gus. Fring has tea in his hand, not a gun. You look more scared by him kicking open the door than you do Gus. You look tired out of your mind & in pain, was he hurting you? He decided to play it safe.

"Who are you?!" Lalo yelled, pretending he didn't know who Gus was.

You understood Lalo's fear, realizing you hadn't been able to check your phone. You walked up to him & placed your hand on his chest, feeling a racing heartbeat.

"This is Gus, he saved my life. Everything is okay, Lalo!"

Lalo dropped his hand from his gun, hoping you hadn't taken note of its existence. Ignacio stepped in front of you & cupped your face with his hands, something he had picked up as a nervous habit.

"What do you mean 'saved your life,' ángel?"

You felt a pit grow in your stomach as you prepared an explanation. Lalo walked up to you & wrapped an arm around your waist like usual, causing you to jump & cry in pain. Ignacio wrapped his arms around your head protectively as you cried, he glared at Gus.

"What happened?" Lalo asked as he stepped towards Gus, his voice having an eerily threatening tinge to it.

Ignacio whispered sweet nothings in your ear in an attempt to draw your mind away from the conversation as he led you to Lalo's study.

"Your partner was kidnapped, sir. They escaped bravely & hopped in my car. I took them to the hospital & brought them here," Gus explained, knowing you were still in earshot.

Ignacio used one arm to close the double doors to Lalo's study, always keeping one arm on your body to remind himself you were alive & at least okay. When the door shut loudly, Lalo's face dropped.

"What do you want, Fring?" he spat out his words like poison.

"I was just trying to be a good samaritan, help a fellow person in need," he gave Lalo the same customer service smile despite being alone with him now.

"What did you do to them?" Lalo would not let Gus keep up this facade.

"I only helped! I drove them to the hospital & contacted the police. I heard those kidnappers hurt them pretty bad though," Gus' last sentence stung, "I'm so sorry that happened, I'm just glad they got out."

"I could kill you right now & no one would know," Lalo's voice became gravelly from pure rage.

Gus looked off towards the study, letting his smile soften, "Y/N would know."

Lalo gritted his teeth. He could only imagine how upset Ignacio was with him. You were crying in his arms from the pain.

"The doctor gave me meds for the pain, I think Gus has them."

"Don't worry, ángel, I'll go get them. You stay here & don't move a muscle," Ignacio stood up & his heart ached as he let go of you. He didn't want to spend a second away from you, but he didn't trust Fring.

Ignacio walked out of the room, being met with his husband's death-wishing glare directed at Gus. He didn't dare turn his head, knowing he had already fucked up he intended to not let Gus out of his sight.

Ignacio held his hand out in front of Gus, "They said you had pain meds."

Ignacio seemed downright unamused & completely unphased. Gus took the medication out & placed it in Ignacio's hand. He gripped the small container, opened it, & poured one into his hand. Ignacio raised his hand a bit, holding eye contact with Gus.

"Take it," Ignacio spoke simply.

"Those are for your partner... for their back."

"I said take it," His voice never wavered from what can only be described as bored.

Gus shrugged his shoulders & swallowed the pill, "The doctor gave this to them, not me. Just oxycodone."

Ignacio studied Gus' face once more before turning on his heel & walking back to the study. Lalo waited until the doors closed once more to continue talking. Ignacio returned to his spot on the couch with you laying between his leg & on his stomach. He grabbed a bottled water from behind him without getting up & handed it to you.

He read the label out loud, "Alright, 10 milligrams every 12 hours with food. Have you eaten, ángel?"

"No," you groaned, "Not since the dinner Lalo made before you both left."

Ignacio was taken back to the moment he finally agreed to go with Lalo, when he was cooking that very dinner. If he just stayed, you would be safe right now. He hadn't even looked to see your bruises, possibly just pretending you were never bruised.

"What did you do to my men?" Lalo asked, already assuming the answer.

"What men?" Gus asked innocently.

With that, Lalo grabbed Gus by the jacket & pulled him outside, throwing him onto the grass. He pulled out his gun & pointed it at Gus, the man on the floor quickly raising his hands to protect his face.

"There, I don't know if you're afraid of cameras or what! Tell me what happened or so help me I will shoot you & tell Y/N you went home!"

Gus stood up silently & patted the dirt off his pants. He looked up into Lalo's eyes, his smile finally fading to a deadpan look.

"Your men are dead, my men disposed of them."

"Why didn't you just kill Y/N?" Lalo was now poking around for information.

"Would you rather I did?" Gus caught on immediately.

Lalo sighed, "Give me the name of the man that hurt them & I will consider not telling Eladio."

"Don't lie to me, Lalo. You'll tell Eladio either way, you can at least say that to my face. But as a sign of goodwill, Brian Clarke. There's an e at the end of Clarke."

"Goodwill? You kidnapped my partner! How is that goodwill, huh?" Lalo asked, taking a step towards Gus & placing his gun into his waistband once more.

"Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to-"

Lalo could not take any more of this bullshit & punched Gus in the face, "Oh, I'm so sorry. That looks like that will leave a mark."

Lalo, once again, grabbed Gus by the shirt & dragged him inside. He threw the poor man to the sink the moment he realized he had a bloody nose. He pushed a roll of paper towels in his direction. The sound of Ignacio trying to convince you to go back in the study made Lalo turn his head for a second before stepping back to keep both the area you were coming from & Gus in view.

"Querida! Did the pain meds work?" He tried to sound positive in a caring way, it was hard in the moment.

"Yeah- Wait, what happened?!" It took you a second to notice Gus' bleeding nose.

"You know, bloody nose season. Right, Gus?"

"Yeah, I get them all the time. Nothing to worry about," Gus spoke as his blood dripped down the sink.

You let out a big yawn causing even Lalo's eyes to soften. Ignacio nervously placed his hands on your hips, "Can I see your bruises so I can know where not to touch you?"

You reluctantly agreed, afraid to try to explain what happened, & turned around so both of your partners could see your back. Nacho slowly lifted the shirt to show bandages covering your back, soaked with blood.

"They cut you?"

"A lot," you admitted weakly, "It felt like hours, I don't know for sure."

"Oh, ángel, I'm so sorry," Ignacio's arms found themselves wrapping around your head again, "Lalo, grab Y/N a snack to go with their meds & I'm going to take them to bed. Oh, & mata a ese pollero, mi vida" (Kill the chicken man, my life (pet name))

A/N: Part two? I would be so down. Reblog or comment if you want it. I am so proud of this & I'll proofread it when I can.

[blueiight]

I see some people compared revolutionary girl utena and iwtv I don't get it I watch both series and don't get the comparison (I'm very slow)

ik it sounds hypocritical cuz i call myself slow but i promise u ur not! ur curiosity alone suggests u care & u have something up there. the comparison lies in how both adaptations tackle similar themes. the vampire and the prince are both parasites by definition, sold to u as the pinnacle of species but really leeches on life who so desperately want to cling onto a facismile of humanity bc theyve been locked out of it forever someway somehow. the sterile opulence of akio ohtori’s tower reminds me a bit of the dubai penthouse dont u think?

the 1973 first interview tapes with louis are all but said to be very similar in tone to a jilted ex complaining about his lover. “i was his superior in every way”. it wasnt even a tale of triumph over an abuser, it was mania, a bender, a second hand high off sampling the lives of drug addicts in a gay bar. ep3 louis all but saying he encountered an older jonah in europe who saw the devil in his eyes the way his mother did, encountering multiple vampire cults & the open question as of the writing of this post on amc claudia’s life in the 1970s. is it any wonder he saw europe as a failure & wanted to try again in america, in the epicenter of black empowernment going on in the state of california.. u can imagine how this creature pushing 100, when asked to recall his maker, can be so resentful in his recollection of him at the moment?

speaking of blurred boundaries.

what was the full quote : the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb? yea..its all a lie. we got daughters thats makeshift brides thats also makeshift brothers and siblings who despise the broken mirror showing them the child they once was.

modern day louis attempts to sell this tale of triumph in the face of a fucked up gothic romance & the consequences of death made eternal to mortals. louis says this is a warning, but it serves more as his eulogy. louis wants u to believe claudia & him triumphed over lestat: first lover, his progenitor, all in one, but this story collapses when revisiting the monstrosity of recollection. at a time where death consumes the world, where death is brought from the push of a button in boardrooms thousands of miles from the scene, we are bought to the question of memory, intimacy in the eternity of death, and just what it even means to remember something. just as a vampire is born from trauma, a prince is born as the witness to eternal suffering.

utena posits very similar questions w regard to what it even means to recall, what happens to u in the midst of memory formation. we are introduced to utena, a girl who wants to be a prince, who was saved by the prince when she was young& wants to be him, whos said to wear a boy’s uniform and the whole universe shes in sees it as such. the audience sees it for what it is, a poor man’s imitation, unusual attire, something marking her as the odd man out. we are initially introduced to some of what made utena want to be a prince thru saionji. saionji realizes in this moment, that he would have to age out of his companionship with touga to become a “Man”. eternity to saionji, represents the accursed day before he found the girl. but it is through mikage’s utter distortion of mamiya’s entire existence, through anthy, that we find out utena was the suicidal little girl seeking eternity, neither touga nor saionji brought it to her, and the eternity showed to her was the ghost of a prince showing the eternal suffering of his little sister who sacrificed everything for him. a girl who cannot be a princess is doomed to become a witch. all vampires are creatures born of trauma.

what does it mean to be eternal?

is the question both of these shows ask u. what is eternity, if not living the same miserable life over and over again? repeating the cycles of duels to get the hand of the bride, whos revealed to be a witch all along, and the endless pursuit of a prince whos never existed in the first place.

there was never an escape from the constraints of mortality, u could never escape the sorrow that surrounded u in death. u r permanently the traumatized, broken creature u were on the verge of death/suicide/some other intimate tangle with a mortal death. now what do u make of it? unlike utena tho, there is no true way at liberation. u r the beast of the outside world.

[justallihere]

chapter 30 lets goooooo

i looooove how you're making violet miss xaden !! listen as much as i love my men stupid the amount of ppl last chapter that were happy with his suffering made me feel bad !! i feel like xaden needs shooters and i have to step up to defend my man. and it's like ... they're so married it makes me sick. ofc they cant sleep apart when they're under the same roof. it just goes to show that the foundations of the relationship are there and that there's hope !! i also think violet needs time to digest everything and what better time to do that than at night when she cant sleep bc she misses her hubby??

2) Tairn and Sgaeyl paralel with Xaden and Violet you will always be famous. Mr. "humans are too emotional" Tairn and yet he also cant sleep when he's mad at Sgaeyl ... i know what you are.

3) Riorson house needs better guards, wdym violet can just avoid them ??

4)

She was Xaden’s wife. She was queen. Him, the house, the city, the entire country—they all belonged to her as much as she belonged to them. Maybe she should start acting like it. 

(i know i use this gif way to much but i cant help it it's perfect)

Oh we looooove a violet that knows how powerful she is, even without a signtet !! she's just understanding she can command the whole country and i love that for her. Xaden gave her the power and i think in the next few chapters we're gonna see both of them understanding that they're more powerful together than apart.

5) Now let's get into Garrick and Liam's business bc there's so much to unpack. For once Garrick can't mind his business to save his life ... he's so gossip girl coded and tbh can't blame him I too am nosy.

the worried glanced they shared when they thought she wasn't looking ... your honor they're so scared lmao.

But now on a more serious note, I loved the conversation they had about the whole affair. Both parties trying to rationalize their hurt and understanding each others sides was important. Garrick and Liam needed to understand that Violet is their ruller alongside Xaden, she's not a flower they need to protect. And if she's to rule she needs to be informed of stuff, they can't go behind their back. And ofc the order came from Xaden but they actively participated in it which is why she's so upset. But Violet also needed to understand that this secret can't just be shared like this and they did the best they thought would work under the circunstances.

I also think Violet knows she just needs time.

6)

“Is there something you want to say, Tavis?” She raised an eyebrow. “Some comment about my marriage you’d like to share?” 

Oh she knows people have been talking about her marriage. But I love how protective she is about her relationship with Xaden. It's no one's business and they'll figure themselves out without outside intervention. She knows she misses him, she knows she cares, or she wouldn't be this upset, she just needs to be angry a bit more while they work on it. And she has aknowledged she doesn't want to live like this: hurt and upset, so she knows they need to work it out somehow.

Can't wait till she aknowledges he's her rock, can't wait for THAT moment.

7) Violet and Liam made up !!!

(i could not for the life of me find the whole gif so enjoy this one, you know what comes next)

just like canon Liam is too busy defending Xaden's actions to violet *cries*. But yeah i think we need to have a conversation about nuance. We as readers, can be upset for Violet due to Xaden's behavior while aknowledging why Xaden did what he did. and i think it's what's so beautiful about this narrative. bc at the end of the day i probably would've done what he did. and i think violet knows that too even if she's not ready to admit it to herself just yet.

8) touched starved Xaden enters the scene so ofc angst ensues. His little touch didn't hurt at all ... ahaha ... (you are very mean miss ma'am)

9) Love how Xaden is like: okay you know now so get to work come with me to this drift. like my guy give her a day ??

10) Violent andarna u will always be famous

11) Cat is very pathetic, like omg girl GET UP like i'm embarassed for her. All that over a man ?? a crown ?? bestie don't u literally have a crown at home ?? Violet absolutely destroyed Cat was a highlight and Xaden was turned on.

12) Imogen will always come through !! that's a girl's girl

13)Now while i feel bad for Syrena Xaden is correct its not Tyrrendor's problem they're dying. In fact, he's already doing more than he should bc the moment Tecarus was like: "no luminary for yall" i would've been like "oh sure you're on your own then, say goodbye to the weapons". I feel like Xaden's being too good.

14) and you explained perfectly why Xaden and Violet are made for each other !! Yes, they both have some sort of moral compass, but above all that they're loyal to themselves and to those that they love.

15) The Squad capital T capital S being ride or die will always get me. Liam just takes it my poor boy.

16) Now Cam ... the way you've been here for a month and haven't found anything is very useless behavior. But we forgive, he's a man after all.

17) Violet wants a healthy relationship with Xaden and thats exactly what i asked for !! yes, get to talking like adults. I love how she has childish thoughts of vengence but she's like "yeah that isn't really what i want to do" and doesn't act on impulse.

18) why do i feel like next chapter xaden is gonna be so stressed when he hears of this suicidal plan and also why do i feel like the equivalent of varrish torture scene is coming. you are scaring me.

19) i wanna be you when i grow up alli. the way you release chapters so damn fast ... my readers could only wish lmao. you are literally not human (i mean it as a compliment <3)

Okay this comment is so beautiful and so well thought out??? I’m in love with you??

I don’t have the time rn to respond to every one of these points but just thank you thank you thank you a million times over for the love on this chapter (and the fic as a whole) 🥰🥰

But: yes I’m obsessed with possessive Violet claiming Tyrrendor and Xaden and her own. I LOVED writing that. Whatever problems she has with either of them, they’re hers and Xaden’s to deal with and no one else’s. They are, for better or worse, a team, and no one gets a say in their relationship and she will shut it down so fast if they try

[smolvenger]

(Not) Alone On Christmas (Bucky x Trans! Masc! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: Buckys about to spend a holiday by himself. You run to him with a proposition: you need a fake boyfriend for Christmas Day. But don't worry, it's all gonna be fake hahaha...unless?...

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of drinking and of children, Reader's family not using the right pronouns but Bucky corrects them. Fake Dating.

A/N: Hi there, @riley-writes!!! Tis I!!! Your secret Satna for @startrekkingaroundasgard's Holiday Fic Exchange! Just want to say, thanks to @riley-writes for helping me out bc I am not a trans person and for the HUGE help in getting the details right! Also thanks to @jamesbuckybarns for all the ideas about this fic, many of which made it to this final draft! I hope y'all like it! Here is a link to the song featured in the fic

COMMENTS, REBLOGS, AND ASKS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED!!!

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BUCKY’S POV

“No, you earned the chance to have Christmas in Paris!” Bucky insisted.

Sam laughed at the other end of the line.

“It’s been Sarah’s dream to see Paris since she was a kid and why shouldn’t the boys go too? They were hopping up and down when they got the news. So…are you sure you won’t mind me traveling?”

Bucky shook his head, the phone hot against his ear.

“You should go, Sam…when was the last time you had a genuine break? You’ve been saving all our asses for months!” he replied.

“Guess you’re right. The shield’s heavy in more ways than one…” Sam admitted.

Bucky began to pace around his apartment. He then glanced out at the window. It was freezing cold and grey, but no snow. And Christmas was in about a week!

“Go spend Christmas in Paris with your family Sam, you earned it.”

“And you’ll be okay? No more of that Hydra or Winter Soldier crap, alright? Nothing, I repeat, nothing that will make me fly back there?!? This is my vacation we’re talking about!” Sam asked.

“It will all be fine!”

“Please, I don’t want to babysit any more Super Soldiers!”

“But I’m your best one!”

“You have a point. And for once the wizards and aliens have stopped and…I wouldn’t mind having an actual French croissant…”

“Go spend Christmas in France and don’t feel the need to babysit us…” Bucky insisted.

“Thanks Buck.”

“Thanks Sam.”

“I’ll get you a souvenir…”

“Get me French Wine and we’ll call it a deal.”

“Alright, man. Deal- I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay, bye.”

He hung up the phone. He was glad Sam could go but it meant…the holidays alone. Truly, truly alone. Not that Bucky minded solitude or didn’t find worthwhile moments when he was by himself.

It just hit different on a holiday like Christmas.

He gave out a sigh. He should mention this to his therapist.

He remembered the old Christmases in Brooklyn. Steve’s mom would bake him a small version of his favorite pie. You could hear people’s Christmas records sometimes as you walked by apartments. He and Steve would pelt each other with snowballs. They’d walk around New York admiring beautiful decorations and hot chocolate was worth an extra penny to spend on for the warmth around your hands.

He looked down on his own…Well…both of his hands at the time.

As he slid down to the couch to turn on the tv, he heard a desperate knock at the door. Fear hit his stomach and he slowly walked, metal arm ready, to see who it was. He opened the door and poked his head through, just to check. Then his muscles relaxed and he swung it wide open.

It wasn’t an enemy. Not at all. It was Y/N.

But he was not looking chipper as usual, but desperate.

Reader’s POV

“You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend!?” Bucky cried, hands on his hips

“Yes! Please!” you begged, sitting on the couch.

 The Hallmark Christmas movie that was turned out was drowned away to the more interesting, real drama between you both. You even folded your arms and looked up at him, like a puppy.

“All because your relatives are trying to set you up with some other guy?” Bucky tried to recall.

“Yes! Bobby! He’s the actual worst! So damn annoying. I hear his voice and lose brain cells, and not in a good way. He won’t even say my pronouns. Refer to the dead ones. Like he’s in love with the dead me and not the me me!  And he’s going to be there all day at Christmas at my family’s house! I just know he’s going to ask me out in front of everyone!  Please, Bucky- I’ll pay you if you need!” you said, reaching in your pocket to get your wallet.

“No, it’s just…it’ll feel a bit weird…”

“Not as weird as shoving this guy who’s going to be there and force me to date him?!? No sir- I’d rather it be you there! Besides, if you were there-Bobby would stay away. He’ll respect you. He and everyone else will think I am taken! It’s just for Christmas, I swear!” you insisted, shaking your head.

You saw him smile. You didn’t want to admit it, but Bucky had the most handsome smile you had ever seen. You clasped your hands together on your lap and bounced your leg as he paced, awaiting his response.

“Alright. I’ll do it. Sam’s gone- might as well spend the holiday with you.”

You let out a sigh of relief and a hundred thank you Bucky and you’re the best friend ever, Bucky.

In a flurry of baking and shopping and movie re-watching and carol blasting, Christmas Day and the big Family gathering arrived.

BUCKY'S POV

He initially didn’t know if he wanted to accept.

But which was better: another holiday watching the newer movies and ones he had seen tons of times before and hearing the same songs about togetherness while alone…or having company? And above all, in Y/N’s presence…

Bucky was a lonely man. That was, until he met you. But you had a whole family, and he did not. Maybe he could turn away but seeing as how you were about to wrap your knuckles on the door on a bitter cold Christmas afternoon, it was too late.

Here he was, awkwardly standing at the door holding macaroni and cheese- the warmth still radiating to where he felt it in one hand and under his chin. How would they react? As you were hugging your cousins and parents and aunts and uncles, he was still eyeing everything carefully as if it was a battlefield of it’s own.

As he gingerly stepped in, he found himself ducking and looking around, maybe to make himself smaller, less of a target. Eyes immediately turned to him.

“Guys, this is my boyfriend- James Barnes! But you can call him Bucky!” you introduced with a grand sweep of your arms and a cheesy, circus-performer sized smile.

“Oh, Y/N! You finally have a boyfriend! Wonderful!” your mom cheered.

Bucky nodded his head with a shy smile as “hellos” were exchanged. Once he put the macaroni on the kitchen counter- already the building was warm from all the cooking- and shook every hand he could, he went to the corner coat rack.

He took off his coat and then carefully put his gloves in his pocket. Once his gloves were off, the little children of the family looked at the undeniably metal arm. They gathered in wide eyed curiosity at it.

“What’s that? Why is it metal?” one little boy asked.

You had just gotten a drink to await the lunch and were sipping at it while watching.

“I, uh, had an accident and I lost it. So, I got it replaced,” he answered.

It was technically the truth after all. They didn’t need to know the details about Hydra.

“Can I touch it?” one little girl asked, her brown eyes getting bigger.

“Sure…”

She poked it, feeling how cold and solid it felt to her fingers.

“Wooooaaahhhh!”

“Can I touch it? Can I??” they all asked like meercats sticking their noses up in the air.

They followed him as he went to the kitchen to get his plate of appetizers and then plopped onto the couch. Out of the corner of his eyes were more of the younger kids. Their parents brought them their activity books, knowing that there would be a lot of “grown up” talking when it wasn’t present time. One bold little girl crawled up to him.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“You can call me Bucky…” he said gently.

Her eye went to the inevitable- his arm.

“Bucky- your arm is so cool!? Can I put stickers on it!” she asked.

You nearly snorted out your drink, putting a hand to your mouth to keep from laughing. She ran over, picked up her activity books, and returned.

“Uh…yeah, sure.” He replied.

Other kids ran up with their activity books and sticker pages insisting the same. Before long, his whole arm was surrounded by strawberries, cats, big eyed Disney cartoons, dinosaurs, and glittery planets (one of the kids was going through a space phase). One boy laughed a little, but they all admired him.

The first little girl said, “it makes your arm even prettier!”

Pretty? Huh…he never thought of it that way…

“Thank you- what do you think, Y/N?” Bucky asked, turning to you.

You smiled at it.

“It does make your arm look pretty, Bucky!” you confirmed with a nod of your head.

READER’s POV

Oh gah, there was something different about the way he was looking at you- what were you to do? Why did it make you feel those things? No- nonononono. You had to focus. You had to survive this day. Your stomach was grumbling and the cheese and crackers you stuffed in your mouth were digested already. How long until the meal and presents so you could make the quickest exit out?

The doorbell rang and you felt your cup shake in your hands.

“Come in, Bobby!” your mom greeted cheerfully.

Dang it, why can’t it just be family and not his stupid face? You cursed silently.

There was a sudden swing of the door and Bobby was there, the guy your parents wanted you to be with. Ugh, Bobby may be an engineer with money and an apparent obsession with a version of you, but he looked and acted the exact opposite of your type. And the fact your parents wouldn’t stop singing his praises even though Bobby quietly engaged your fight or flight response immediately.

“Hey there! What’s up! Merry…” Bobby’s stupid, obnoxious voice was cut off at the sight of a certain handsome, well-built man with short dark hair and a metal arm.

“And who exactly are you?” Bobby asked with fake politeness.

You stood up, downing the rest of your drink, and smiling wickedly.

“Oh, you haven’t met my boyfriend yet!” you exclaimed, putting an emphasis on the last word.

Bobby’s lips tightened. You walked forward to Bucky.

“Here is the best boyfriend in the world- Bucky Barnes!”

You threw your arms around him and gave him a peck on the cheek and Bucky smiled. Just enough for Bobby to nod in frustrated respect and defeated acknowledgement.

“I brought green bean casserole…” he said, lifting the red dish with tinfoil over the cover.

“Oh, good! Take it to the kitchen!” Bucky insisted, gesturing there.

Bobby stomped away. He only stayed twenty minutes to drink a soda, drop off two lumpy Christmas presents, and chat around. He then said he had a bad stomachache and left.  Bucky looked at you and you gave him a small wink. From behind, you gave him a small high five.

BUCKY’S POV

Since that asshole had left, you were practically glowing. You were smiling- huh, what a smile. Bucky thought. It made his stomach flutter when you smiled. And you were laughing too among your cousins. Not that fake laugh to flatter someone’s bland joke. No, this was real, happy, belly laughter. Your laughter, your voice. It had been in his head. Bucky spent Christmas Eve secretly counting down the hours until this. Yes, it was a test and charade. But it meant…he could spend more time with you.

What was this? Obsession? Lonleiness? Or maybe…maybe it was…

“Hey Bucky!” your dad called out.

Then your dad approached Bucky as he shook away the thoughts from his head, back to Planet Earth. The dad placed a hand on his shoulder and began to speak.

“You know…when the time comes for Y/N’s birthday or if you stick around for next Christmas…could you help me find a right Christmas gift for her?”

“Him” Bucky corrected.

He sighed and shook his head but then took in another inhale.

“I mean, a gift for him.”

Bucky shrugged. “Of course!”

Suddenly, there was aloud, shrill beep from the kitchen timer. He heard your mothers voice ring out just like the Church bells would in Brooklyn on that snowy, holiday morning.

“Dinner’s ready! Wash your hands and get plates, everyone!”

READER’S POV

There was a lack of ham on your plate. Ham was your favorite thing to eat on Christmas and apparently it was everyone else’s. When you finally reached it, there wasn’t that many left. But your parents knew there would be a multitude and so a second ham was placed in the oven to bake. After eating your pitiful slice and enjoying some side dishes, you could get some more.

“Is there anything I could do for you?” your aunt Lydia asked.

She was standing up and eyeing everyone else’s plates.

“Oh yeah- I got my fill of Mac and Cheese, but I’d like some of the ham, please,” you asked.

There was the sound of the mixer like a power drill and then it paused.

“What?” You heard your mom from the kitchen. Her apron was splattered with the cookie batter she was mixing.

Aunt Lydia went over to the corner, the threshold of dining room and kitchen, cupping her mouth.

“Hey! Y/N just said she wants some ham!!”

Your lips went tight, and you placed both hands on your green plastic cup, face lowering down. Your shoulders bunched up to your ears. You wished you were a tortoise and had a shell to vanish inside.

Bucky stood up and walked to the aunt, hands in his pocket.

You perked your head out of your cup. Bucky gave a quiet, angry look. Maybe the Winter Soldier was never truly gone after all, you thought.

“He wants some ham,” he corrected her.

“HE wants some ham,” your aunt repeated with a little sigh.

“Thank you, there you go!” Bucky said, even giving a little bow.

He walked over to you.

“Thank you, you see, it’s so awkward and I hate it…” you whispered.

“Anytime.”

“She always makes me feel like less of a man…” you confessed into his ear.

He took your hand with his own flesh one and squeezed it.

“Listen, you are a man. No one can take that, okay? I don’t see some faker in front of me- I see a real, genuine man. So why can’t you see that in yourself too?” he whispered.

“Okay…” you whispered back.

When you realized eyes were on you both again, but blinking in ignorance of what was said, you gave Bucky another peck on the cheek and returned to your seats.

You finally got your ham helping. All was going smoothly even when it was time for dessert.

“Dear, would you like some cheesecake?” Bucky asked loud enough for any relative to hear.

“Sure thing, love!” you answered with a practiced smile.

Once he gathered a plate with cheesecake on it, as well as a plate for you, everyone’s head at the table was turned towards the two of you. The other twenty side conversations were dropped.

“Oh, so you’re the Prince Charming, eh?” an uncle asked.

In the back, one could hear your mom turning on the Christmas Playlist but adjusting the volume so it wouldn’t overpower any conversations.

“Yes, I am!” he said plainly.

“How did you two meet?” your father asked.

“Uh…it was…” Bucky began, he squinted his eyes and scratched the back of his head.

“We met at a bar. Bucky’s good friend is Captain America right now and there was a segment on him on the tv. So, I bought him a drink and asked him more and then next thing I knew, we were dating!” you piped in quickly.

That was all true. It was nerve wracking how Bucky would take your new gender and new identity. Especially concerning the truth of what time period he actually came from. But you had struck gold. He managed to let you talk and explain it, and always referred to you as who you were.

Maybe he would really be like that if we were really dat-

The thought made you pause before you could swallow your bite.

No, no, noononononono! You thought. Get that thought out of your head now Y/N! You got to focus! You got to make it through to the end!

“So you really know Captain America!?” an aunt asked excitedly.

“Both of them. Don’t want to talk about the middle one. Long story short, John Walker wasn’t a good guy.” Bucky explained.

“But that’s so cool! Both Steve Rogers and now Sam! What are they like?” a cousin asked.

You scooped up some of the caramel drizzle on your plate with the edge of your fork.

“They’re both the bravest men I know,” Bucky answered.

“And how did you meet Steve?”

He froze a little, his forkful of cheesecake still down on his plate, yet to be eaten. Bucky’s face became paler, and his jaw hung in mid-air.

“Uh-“

“Brooklyn, wasn’t it?! You were in Brooklyn when you met him!” you said quickly.

Again, not a lie. Just certain details had to be censored.

“Yes, I was in Brooklyn when I met Steve!” Bucky agreed, playing along.

“You’re so lucky, always wanted to see New York City! Just must pick the right time when it isn’t being attacked by something…” another cousin sighed.

Then the Playlist switched to some instrumental. It began dreamily with some bells playing a twinkly tune. And then a jazzy melody was picked up by some horns and a female singer. Bucky perked up.

“Hey! That’s ‘Santa, Bring My Mommy Back To Me!’” he commented excitedly.

“Really, you know that one?” your mom asked.

“Yeah, I remember I heard it when it first came-“

Your eyes went big, and you whipped your head, dipping into a fake cough to interrupt it. Then you turned to him with a stiff, forced smile as a warning. Bucky stopped himself from blowing his cover.

“You heard the record, right?” you corrected.

“Uh yeah, my mom bought a record and would play it at Christmas,” he confirmed.

If there was a dime for every half-lie you told at desert, you were on your way to becoming rich.

“My Bucky here loves all the oldies. Just like his parents did. It’s so relaxing to listen to!” you boasted, patting his back.

“Well, I like some oldies too! They bring such a nice, classy feeling to every event!” your mom agreed.

You let out a steady exhale through your nose. Bucky bit into his cheesecake.

BUCKY’S POV:

“Can we pleeeeease open our presents now!!!!” one kid begged, hopping up and down in his chair.

“Oh, alright! C’mon everyone- let’s open some presents!” your dad invited, throwing his arms up.

The kids cheered and ran over there. Adults cleared their plates and followed them right after. There was much violent delight in kids squealing and ripping open papers. Even that innocent greed flashed in the eyes of all the adults. Present by present under the tree was passed around and opened. Some to enthusiasm, some with just a polite smile. You and Bucky sat on the couch, holding hands when you weren’t opening a gift.

Your parents then reached and got a red and white box with a bow under the tree.

“Here Bucky…we don’t know you well yet, so it was hard to pick a gift but…we hope you like it!” your dad wished.

Bucky blinked and then opened the gift. How long had it been since he had an actual gift given to him? As he opened the little green bag and looked inside, he saw it was a bunch of new socks his size, a wad of cash, and a little bag full of homemade cookies.

“We know it’s not much, but-“

He waved his hand, shaking his head.

“No, it’s not! It’s perfect! Thank you!”

Your parents both smiled warmly at him.

It struck him. This was just as comfortable as he could be with Sam and his family. He felt safe. Very safe. Too safe in fact.

Once you let go to hand out your gifts to your family, you realized Bucky felt incredibly warm he felt, head to toe. You were a foot away, but he already missed you.

READER’S POV:

Goodbyes were said, empty dishes and presents collected and stuffed into the car, and as you turned the key, you drove back to your place. Once you both walked inside and set all the stuff down, you let out a big sigh and laugh.

“Holy shit, that was something! But I could use some hot chocolate after that- want some, Bucky?” you offered.

“Of course,” he replied.

 You poured milk into a stove and turned it on to medium.

“They’re nice, but your Aunt Lydia is…something else” he commented.

“You can say she’s a bitch, Buck.” You confessed.

“Alright- she’s a bitch!” he said with a shrug.

That did make you laugh. Despite his sad past, so much about him made you…just smile and laugh. Naturally.

You returned with two steaming mugs and turned on a Holiday movie you liked and could watch while it was still the season (only six more hours to go!).

“Well, thought I would need this earlier- let’s not waste it,” Bucky said,

He reached into the pocket of his pants and got out a mini size bottle of vodka, dumping it into his mug. Apparently, you could take the Super Soldier from Russia, but you couldn’t take Russia from the Super Soldier.

Both of you clinked your mugs and took the first drink.

“Wait a minute…Bucky! Your arm!” you pointed and let out a laugh.

As Bucky looked down, he realized that he had forgotten that the stickers were still on there. As the movie played on and your laughter cooled down, you peeled it off of him, one by one, and tossed them aside.

“By the way…Y/N, are you doing anything on New Year’s?” he asked.

“Eve or day?” you asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied.

You put a hand around the handle and another on the mug to feel the warmth.

“New Year’s Eve, my family usually throws a party…” you answered.

“Then let’s go! We can fake this again- it’s not too bad! It’s kind of fun, this danger of being caught. We’ll survive it!” he suggested.

You shook your head.

“No, no not really!”

“Why?” Bucky asked.

“It’s not that you’re a good fake date- it’s that…I…I’m busy…” you told him.

He took a larger drink of it. His face was turning a bit pink from the warmth. The movie blared on as a familiar carol was being played in its score.

“Oh…what do you have?” he asked.

You set your mug down and rubbed your hands together slowly.

“It’s…it’s uh…I’ve been planning this for months and I finally got the money to…I’m getting top surgery New Year’s Day,” you confessed.

“WHAT? Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I wasn’t sure it goes through! And a million things can go wrong in the surgery and I didn’t want to make anyone too unrealistically hopeful- least of all myself! And I have a right not to tell you every last bit about my life!” you protested.

It’s not like we’re dating or anything…yet why did that thought make you sad?

“So yeah- super occupied! And I gotta get ready for life after, it’s gonna be tough…

“Oh, I just thought…

‘Thought what?”

“Thought you’d need a fake date again,”

You shook your head.

“No, not really…not any other upcoming things I can think of. But I’ll let you know..”

“Alright by me” he said, taking a bug gulp of his spiked hot chocolate.

Something was boiling, bursting inside him. He set the hot chocolate down.

“I need to go outside…”

“You can, Buck,” you replied.

Buck, Buck- Buck. Buck! His name getting shorter, smaller...cuter. As if James was too much and now Bucky was too much. Making it smaller, smaller-smaller to where he could only be held and embraced not as a lion but as a kitten. It was too much for him to bear. He stormed outside.

You sat there. Your stomach churning. He wasn’t a smoker. And your apartment didn’t feel stuffy at all. No, something was up- you put on your coat and followed him out.

Right as you opened the door, you noticed that it was dark now. Outside, there was a steadfast snow. No gusts were blasting it into your face, it was gentle. A lot, but gentle. You saw that Bucky had walked outside enough to where you could see his footsteps and saw the top of his head was covered in snowflakes.

“Bucky…Bucky, please!” you called out.

He turned to you, his face was red but his eyes were soft.

“What…what is it…”

You wanted to hear him say it.

“I…I feel…”

“What do you feel?”

“Mad!”

“Why mad, what have I done?”

“Nothing! No! I guess-just…I’m frustrated, that’s all.”

“Why…what’s making your frustrated?”

You felt as if the floor would give out from beneath you. He walked closer to you, blinking a little. He brushed the snowflakes from your hair.

No, it couldn’t be…were you being too hopeful…

“Do you know what about your surgery makes me frustrated? The fact that you hid it from me? IT’s not that you hid it at all…it’s just it means so much to you. That I’m not…not special enough that…you can’t even trust me with it…”

He paused, swallowing.

“I don’t want to sit on the sides as you go  through this- I want to be there with you!”

Your breath was knocked out of you. You felt the snow fall on your head, the arms of your coat, your eyelashes, like small, gentle kisses from the sky. Yet you didn’t dare let your eyes leave his.

“Why? Is it because…because…” your voice trailed off, getting quieter and quieter.

“It’s because…I want to be a part of your life, Y/N. I want to be there for you, for all the moments…that’s why…that’s why I asked about your family…that’s why I agreed to pretend to be with you, why I wanted to do it again…”

“Because you really do want to be my boyfriend?” you asked.

He was still, his eyes still blinking.

“I…uh…uhm…yes. Yes, I do.”

You opened your hand, offering it. With both- flesh and metal- he took yours.

“Then…let’s be boyfriends. For real.”

“Okay…”

“But one thing you gotta do- my arms are gonna hurt like a bitch after this top surgery. You’ll have to take me to the hospital and help me out once I get out. It’s four weeks of recovery and it’s intense. Do you promise?”

“Absolutely, babe.”

“I like hearing you call me that.”

“I like saying it.”

You leaned in to kiss each other right as another draft of snow fell on your heads.

[wipethetape]

maybe it wasn't bad after all

Ajak x Goddess!Reader

Request: Hi! I was wondering if you could do a one shot with reader and ajak? But it’s after the emergence stuf and she’s alive? Maybe it’s how the reader ( who’s some type of non—human creature), and ajak meet? And how ajak gets flustered easily around the reader? If you could that would be great! Thank you so much!

A/N: two things: established hela x thena relationship, hela x reader bestfriends bc they're goddesses AND IM SO SORRY THAT IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO POST IT

Something shifted in Ajak's behavior after the whole stopping of the Emergence plan and Ikaris flying to the sun. She considered Ikaris as her closest companion, maybe not comparable to her relationship with Thena. 

She treated her as the favorite child out of everyone on their team. Ikaris leaving and choosing to protect Arishem's design left a void not only in her heart but in the purpose of her living as well. All she wanted was to stop the birth of the celestial and save the Earth even if it means disobeying Arishem, but it came with a price she cannot bear to accept: Ikaris. 

She blames herself for Ikaris' decisions. Maybe if she hadn't told him the truth and the purpose of their existence, he wouldn't have left Sersi. Maybe Sersi may have convinced Ikaris to join them in saving humanity and not go against his 'family' despite his unwavering loyalty to Arishem because his unwavering love for Sersi was more. Maybe he was still together with them, with her. 

The Eternals are not dumb to not notice how their Prime Eternal was still affected by all that happened to them. She was always level-headed, strong, and impartial as their leader. But this, with the whole Ikaris ordeal, no one exactly knows how to help her. Ajak was always there to help them deal with their issues, the mediator, their emotional and rational pillar, but who would be the pillar if she requires one?

That's why they collectively agreed to frequently visit Ajak's cabin, taking turns but always overlapping with one another. The most frequent visitors are Sersi and Sprite, who are now visiting together after their reconciliation. It is working, but it couldn't do much. It came to the point where Ajak tried to convince them to stop, but they didn't listen.

Tomorrow morning, she noticed Makkari and Kingo laughing in front of a monitor. Ajak silently walked towards them to see what they were doing. 

They were too immersed in the monitor that they didn't hear Ajak coming to them. 

"No, don't say that. It's a turn-off," Makkari signed. Kingo just smirked and sent the message he typed. 

Kingo sent the most terrible reply after what seemed to be a suggestive exchange of messages then unmatched with the person. 

"What were you doing?" Ajak asked. In a sudden moment, they exchanged glances in realization, which didn't go unnoticeable to Ajak. Is she in trouble? Yes. Was it a bad idea that she let her curiosity dominate? Without a doubt.

They made Ajak sit down, briefing her about how the internet works, then explaining what they were doing and how it works, mainly how you can find someone to talk to. Ajak is a fast learner, but they knew she wasn't interested enough to try this so they made her an account and forced her to make a match while they were there. 

Ting. Match successful.

Ajak sent "Hi" as her message. Kingo grunts and Makkari stoops down her shoulders. She's a starter, let's give her that, they think. 

You replied with a greeting, and thankfully you asked a lot of questions that kept the conversation going really interesting. The three Eternals were so invested in you.

At one point, you unknowingly asked her if she believes in God, and the two masterminds beside Ajak wanted to laugh their asses off with the question. With the way you asked, "Do you believe in God?", that's what religious emissaries spreading the word of God would say. 

I see why you said you don't believe in God.

You sent it, and it was an understatement to say Ajak was utterly confused. She's clueless about whether it's genuine, a joke, or sarcasm. She saw the typing icon, so she waited on what were you going to say. Kingo already understands the reason why you brought up this out-of-place topic. 

I don't think He could create someone as stunning as you.

Ajak felt her cheeks heating with what you said. Add that to the embarrassment she feels knowing that two of her team members were watching this whole exchange. Kingo was right, people on the internet can be really.. scary. How can you manage to be cocky in front of a monitor and say whatever you want to someone? 

Well lucky you, because that message would be the reason Ajak is always on her phone to talk to you for the whole day in the next months. 

When you finally dared to tell your best friend Hela about your chat buddy on a dating app, oh how she takes great pleasure in teasing you. It did not help that her wife Thena was in the game. 

You've been single for years now, and Hela (courtesy of her brothers Thor and Loki, but mainly the mischievous one) introduced you to a dating app. She says she wants you to get laid so you wouldn't bother the couple on holidays, again. The last time you asked to drink with them because you were lonely on holiday, they (Hela) almost kicked you out the moment you got sober after making them take care of you. 

The bad thing about divulging into this dating app was not only just letting Hela get into your mind about it, but you forgot how small Earth is. You never told the couple the identity of the person, and they didn't pry about it because they're just delighted you're finally entertaining someone. Until Thena invited you to join them on the family dinner slash reunion with the other Eternals.

You didn't want to be there, because as Thena mentioned, it's a family dinner. On holidays, where you can wander around the world or just talk 24/7 to Ajak at that time. However, thanks to those wives who have their own world and are scary when they join their forces together, you can say you just have to make bad choices sometimes. 

The dinner is hosted in Thena and Hela's house, and you were the one in charge of the decoration of the house and mostly helped in the preparation of the dinner itself. 

Everything is almost done except for the main course when someone knocks on the door. Thena fixed her apron and walked towards the door. Opening, she was greeted with smiles and hugs from every Eternal. One by one, as if by cue, they go inside after offering their greetings and small gifts to Thena. 

Something tells you to glance over the visitors, and you did. Only to see the Eternal Thena is currently hugging. 

You knew Ajak as the Prime Eternal whom Thena always seemed to cherish the most whenever she tells stories about her family. You never realized that the Ajak you were talking to online was the same Ajak that was almost killed by her favorite child and saved the Earth with the other Eternals from the emerging celestial. 

Idiot. It should have occurred to you when you thought it was too unique for a human to bear the name. 

Before removing herself from Thena's embrace, her eyes found yours. She saw you. She saw you. Not even in your best form. You're aware of how much of a mess you look having a few minutes to dress up and fix yourself. However, it was too late to retreat now. 

Makkari and Kingo noticed the subtle shock on their Prime Eternal's face. Following her vision, they finally saw the woman who was making Ajak's day filled with joy rather than sadness after the incident. 

You noticed the other pairs of eyes as well, chuckling at how the two were signing to each other about you and Ajak. You don't want to gossip, but you discovered that they refer to you as "the God". Ajak told you during one of your calls that she was forced by her friends to join the app and helped her through it, and you put the pieces together. 

———

The time has flown by fast. Everyone is currently enjoying their booze before retiring for the night, except for Sersi who went first to bed after tasting the alcohol from Asgard, with Sprite and Phastos following moments after. Only the three of you, Ajak and Thena, were not drinking—though Thena took some when she was trying to stop her wife from drinking more. Ajak, being the mother figure that she is, you assume, chooses to be sober to take care of the remaining Eternals. You? You feel drunk with her presence alone.

It was a challenge to maintain your interest to have a chat and listen to the other Eternals. You weren't rude enough to ignore their questions, but the only times you opened your mouth were to respond to their inquiries and feed yourself. You don't know what they're talking about because you were too occupied being mindful with the Prime Eternal by your side, not wanting to look more foolish in her presence.

Whenever she needed something, whether the condiments or to taste the food placed on the other side of the table, you were fast to move even before she spoke about it. You find charm in watching her being flustered and trying hard to hide her emotions by avoiding your eyes whenever your fingers graze on each other.

"Wrong. It is my Makkari." Druig glances at Makkari sweetly, to which she reciprocates and smiles. 

It seems that Druig and Hela were bantering about their partners. Hela is already conceited, which gets worse with a combination of a topic about her wife or her reign and journey as the queen, and liquor from Asgard.

"Morons. It is Thena, my beloved, who was worshipped as a goddess by the midgardians, befitting as her wife is the queen of Asgard." 

"I have to throw up," you seriously said, earning a glare from Hela. 

"Me too." Thena butted. 

Both of you stood up but went in different directions. Thena went straight to the kitchen, still pretending to throw up about Hela's comment which gained laughs from everyone, while you went outside the porch to breathe. 

You didn't know that Ajak plans to follow you shortly after. When she made her way to the porch, you noticed her and rubbed the chair beside you of dust knowing that it was clean. She sat on it while looking at how you seemingly shine so brightly, complementing the night sky. 

After a few minutes that seemed long to you, you heard her speak. 

"So do you always say those," she pauses, contemplating if she should continue, "things when you talk to other people?" She starts the conversation, ending her question with a tone stronger than she intended to. You were confused for a second about what she was referring to, then you realized it was your messages with her. You believe you simply misheard the jealousy and insecurity in her voice. 

You shook your head. "I learned from the Avengers. The phrases. Really a bunch. My first and last time using it. It just slipped my mind that humans like those phrases, and I tried." You explained while trying to check her reaction.

You don't want Ajak to think you are a flirt. Sure, being a goddess entails experience, but you were not an expert on it in contrast to your Goddess of Death friend. You innocently thought she was a human from your first interaction, so you tried to apply what you've learned from humans during your stay here. 

Silence enveloped the two of you. It is totally fine with you since you can admire the woman beside you whose eyes wander at the now appearing stars in peace. 

"Your voice is more enticing than in phone calls."

"Only my voice?" 

Ajak raises her eyebrows in shock and embarrassment. How she wants to melt in your gaze while she listens to your voice. 

"You're ravishing," she replies, her voice a bit wavering. 

The silence once again made its presence known around the porch. Both have no intention of wanting it to leave, yet they want to hear each other's voice even if the words don't make sense. 

"That Arishem should have a little credit for creating a beauty like you," you complimented. "Probably the best," you whisper. 

And that's where Ajak lost it. The composure she's been trying to maintain the moment she set foot in the house and saw you in the kitchen cooking. The moment your eyes met in shock and joy when both realized your unconventional first meeting. The glances you steal at each other at the table when one thought the other wasn't looking. 

She kept on looking everywhere except your eyes. The floor, the walls, and the whole night sky became her best friends. 

You simply smiled at how adorable her reaction is. You thought it would be the other way around, aware of your tendency to develop a whole personality to cover your nervousness. 

"Would you go with me, Miss Prime Eternal?" 

"To where?" 

"To get married." 

That gains her full attention to you. She heartily laughs. 

You add, "For a walk. And other things," pausing, "More like exploring each other's universe and be a part of it." 

She finally stared right into your eyes lovingly. 

"Haven't you already?" She inquires, a tiny smirk forming on her lips. 

[heartpascal]

THE WORLD IS BRIGHTER

"The dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins—but in the heart of its strength lies weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back. Love is more than a candle. Love can ignite the stars."

- MATTHEW STOVER, ROTS NOVEL

(r)

• youth by daughter

"my eyes are damp from the words you left,

ringing in my head, when you broke my chest,

ringing in my head, when you broke my chest,

and if you're in love, then you are the lucky one,

'cause most of us are bitter over someone,

setting fire to our insides for fun,

to distract our hearts from ever missing them,

but i'm forever missing him."

• home by catie turner

"feelings were fleeting, but now i'm surrounded,

visions of you shaved into the side of my head,

and as i sleep on the other side of the country,

i wonder how it feels to be safe in the palm of your hand,

and i just want to go home."

• broken by anson seabra

"if you see the boy i used to be,

could you tell him that i'd like to find him?

and if you see the shell that's left of me,

could you spare him a little kindness?"

"am i broken? am i flawed?

do i deserve a shred of worth,

or am i just another fake,

fucked up lost cause?

and am i human? or am i something else?

'cause i'm so scared and there's no one there,

to save me from the nightmare,

that i call myself."

• runaway by aurora

"i was painting a picture,

the picture was a painting of you,

and for a moment i thought you were here,

but then again, it wasn't true, dah,

and all this time i have been lyin',

oh, lyin' in secret to myself,

i've been putting sorrow on the farthest place on my shelf."

• overwhelmed by royal & and the serpent

"i get overwhelmed so easily,

my anxiety keeps me silent,

when i try to speak,

what's come over me?

feels like i'm somebody else,

i get overwhelmed."

(joel to r)

• leave a light on by tom walker

"and i know you're down and out now, but i need you to be brave,

hiding from the truth ain't gonna make this all okay,

i see your pain."

• it'll be alright by cody francis

"oh, my child i know,

you're hurt and you can't let go,

it's not your fault and you don't deserve,

all the bad and the hurt."

• half light by banners

"it makes me feel nervous,

you have that look in your eye,

oh, what takes over?

what is it that holds you tight?"

"when you're in the half light,

it is not you i see,

and you live a half life,

you only show half to me."

(joel & r)

• daylight by david kushner

"two sinners can't atone from a lone prayer,

souls tied, intertwined by our pride and guilt,

(oooh),

there's darkness in the distance,

from the way that i've been livin',

but i know i can't resist it,

oh, i love it and i hate it at the same time,

you and i drink the poison from the same vine."

HOWL I LOVE YOU!!!! your song recs are actually my favourite things EVER. i can’t even express how much i love these. so so amazing. edit: howl. after going through all of these….. you have outdone yourself. you are amazing.

also yes this whole thing is just going to be me sobbing and crying and making myself sad about how much i made r suffer. WHAT OF IT. leave me to ramble!

ALSO ALSO heheh he this gif is so good. giggling. gonna watch that film JUST for this moment BAHAHAH

youth — sobbing. this song is just … emotional. its so good. and i think it’s just so :( poor r she’s going through it. “i’m forever missing him” is just so so real for this fic. bc she really just … can’t not think about her dad :( also the lyrics “shadows settle on the place that you left / our minds are troubled by the emptiness” is so r and joel coded. they are both suffering sm OOPS

home — i know this is going to be a common word here but.. sobbing. once again. this song is so :( AND ITS NEW TO ME!! i like hearing new songs and i trust in you and you specifically howl. ANYWAY. also the “so when are you coming home” is so …….. heartbreaking. gut wrenching. R’S DAD ISNT COMING HOME. and she knows it. and the exact lyrics you said like the sleeping on the other side of the country …….. bc her dad never made it there with her … it just makes me so sad.

broken — AAAAAHHHHH. (this is me violently sobbing and crying). and and and. i really like “please, wont someone take me home / before i lose my mind?” BUT SHE CANT GO HOME. and she really does feel like she’s losing it but like … she can’t bring herself to care. AND THOSE LAST LYRICS YOU SAID???? reader my beloved joel will be there soon :( also,,, that is exactly how joel felt and he just didnt want r to be stuck in that mindset yk, to be alone, to have nobody to pull her out of that nightmare yk

runaway — (i accidentally deleted this one…. i-) anyways AS I WAS SAYING. I LOVE THIS SONG. and in relation to this????? what if i cry, specifically, “and for a moment i thought you were here” is so so so. like you know those moments after losing someone and then like. you forget, even if its just for a moment, and then you remember and its just the worst all over again??? yeah, i know that. and yes i will be applying that to r. soz. r suffers with me. and and and “but no, take me home / take me home where i belong / i got no other place to go” like r just wants to be back home with her dad. she’s so sad. UGH. yeah. this song &lt;3

overwhelmed — omg i’ve never actually heard the full song before now :0. anyway. also. this is so r on the journey to bill and frank’s like … before she just … fades. its mfing debilitating dude. also yes bc every time she gets .. overwhelmed, r fr does struggle to hold on to herself

leave a light on — JOEL TO R CODED YOURE SO RIGHT. “i see your pain” has me sobbing and crying because :( I KNOW I PUT A BIT OF A SPIN ON JOEL’S GRIEF AFTER SARAH but tbf we dont see it in the show or anything yk??? like we KNOW he did some … bad things, but lets be real. he didnt deal with it at all. he just fell into darker habits. and i just think him knowing exactly what r is going through, even though it will be different, he still KNOWS. and he can recognise it. and joel just makes me so sad. “but i need you to be brave” sobbing so hard. yes i will relate every song lyric to joel miller/my own fics. what about it. as we should. joel of all people KNOWS how much courage it takes to NOT fall into that headspace. my babies

it’ll be alright — howl ive never heard this song before and i……. im not ok. what the hell. this is so joel miller coded. yes he would relate this to ellie as well canonically. but r…….. its so much worse. joel KNOWS about the bad and the hurt. and joel KNOWS that out of all the people who deserve it .. r is not one of them. AND AND AND “how much longer will you suffer in this life? / but dont give up, just hold on tight / it’ll be alright” what if i sob and cry. joel just wants to reassure r man. these poor tortured souls. maybe one day ill write a happy fic (doubtful)

half light — yes on each and every level. THIS ONE IS SO PERFECT. “it makes me feel nervous / you have that look in your eye” bc joel recognises it :( joel KNOWSSSS. he knows. he’s all knowing. he knows exactly what that look means. he’s seen it in his own eyes. “it is not you i see / and you live a half life” OH WHAT JOEL WOULD DO TO TAKE AWAY ALL OF R’S PAIN. to make her ok and whole and happy. he wishes he could fix it. but he knows he can’t :( nothing can fix that pain, after all, he would know. im losing my mind rn

daylight — THIS ONE FITS SO WELL TOO. idk how you ALWAYS do this. how do you never miss???? “souls tied, intertwined by our pride and guilt” ??????????????????????? no because joel and r literally are mirrors of each other. they both feel the exact same guilt. and they always will. and the pride that they BOTH have in trying to handle it all alone. like yes r accepts joel and tess’s help (not that they really give her a choice) but she doesn’t WANT to connect, she doesn’t want to talk about it. and i imagine joel to have been the exact same way, only going on for tommy, and yes eventually tess, though u can imagine how long he spent refusing to admit even to himself it was bc he cared about her SMH. ‘business/survival’ is what he woulda told tommy about looking out for her. “you and i drink the poison from the same vine” hmmmm yes they really do. they r one and the same. they’ll self destruct till there’s nothing left tbh. and and and “tellin’ myself its the last time / can you spare any mercy that you might find” is joel coded and no i needn’t say more.