#i just wanted this little moment specifically idk why

[eunoiaastralwings]

Fragments of Blue

featuring Bucky x reader

fandom mcu- pre catcw

a/n based on my idea here - here part one (can be read alone too - I think LMAO).

warnings running away ? - idk if there was anything else tell me otherwise

You were simply lying on the on the couch bored when he came in again – with presuming a packet of bread in his hands.

You momentarily looked over the man that was once the deadly assassin – the one who had been assigned to bring you back to your father and his Hydra, every time you tried to escape or occasionally protect you.

He was always so anxious and nervous now – now you saw the real man being the Winter Soldier, trapped underneath Hydra’s torture who was finally free.

But the world didn’t see it like that however – the world still saw him as a murder and a true weapon of evil and you could almost see he saw himself like that too now.

Like he was signing the picture the outside world painted him as.

You always wondered why he came back for you – you were Alexander Pierce’s daughter after all. You were once even called as Hydra’s daughter by your father’s men.

But unlike your father you didn't want to be part of Hydra – but you were forced to know Hydra, including the Winter Soldier.

Little did you know, the blue-eyed man before you remembered as the Winter Soldier, he told to watch over you and made sure you didn't escape from Hydra like you tried countless times.

It was like you were something constant – something different than the usual assassinations he was tasked with.

You father was dead – yet you weren’t sure how to feel about that, he was your only family after all – though he did put Hydra above you.

Once the man was freed from the mind control and for whatever reason he had broken into your father’s house helped her escape and went on the run together.

You had known the moment he stepped in – he wasn’t Blue anymore.

He was the man behind those blue eyes again – still he seemed to be refusing to tell you his real name.

“So. . . you going to tell me your real name or do I keep calling you, Blue?” She asked – as he places the packet of bread on the small table in tiny rundown apartment you were sharing.

You had hated always calling him Soldat or the Winter Soldier, like your father and Hydra did - so you always stuck with calling him Blue, because of his blue eyes. He didn’t remember his own name - and no one would tell him or you either. . .and you wanted to make him feel just a little human. . .

He looked up giving you a once over – as if still debating inside him whether to trust you or not.

To be honest the only reason you were was because of him anyways.

You were almost certain he was going to brush you off again.

But then you heard a small mutter.

“Bucky. . .”

************************************************************************

You disguised yourself the best you could, wearing one of Bucky’s baseball caps – as you looked around the market stalls, trying to follow him.

You were always annoying him – that’s for sure. He had specifically instructed you to stay at the apartment but you clearly hadn't.

“Y/N you shouldn't be here. You’re not supposed to be out without my permission.”

He sounds annoyed.

“I deserve to at least see the sun, Bucky!”

You scowled at his behavior.

“I get it. . . But we can't let anyone find the either of us!”

He sighs.

“The only reason you’re not in the base is because it's me babysitting you.”

He mutters.

“You’re not babysi-“

You tripped over something because of your vintage heeled boots as you tried to follow – needing to hold onto Bucky in case you fell face flat on the ground.

You sighed – knowing he was gonna be mad.

“I told you not to wear those heels!”

He glared – now mad with you.

“Oh, I’m sorry – I didn’t exactly get to stop by at home to grab shoes before going on the run!”

You answered sarcastically.

“Don’t talk back to me. I’m only looking out for you. You really need to take more precautions!”

He warned.

You knew he was mad.

“I cannot go bare feet!”

You still stubbornly scowled –  knowing what he was picking at how you failed to escape multiple times during their time in Hydra and how he as the Winter Soldier always dragged her back kicking and screaming.

“Well, at the light’s still there, princess!

He grumbles and grabs you by the wrist. He pulls her along with a grumpy looking glare.

“We don’t have time for this. I have to keep you safe!”

He mutters, that was something he always said – but Bucky himself didn’t know why he was keeping you safe.

He didn’t know he came running to you – when he was freed from the mind control.

But here you were now.

You simply rolled your eyes and followed him to a farmers’ market.

He glances over at you.

“Why can’t you just listen to me for a change!”

Bucky sounded exhausted and anxious – he walks fast with you still holding your hand and you were trying to keep up with his pace.

Once again – stubborn as ever you didn't answer. The farmers’ market was large, with lots of stands and stalls, some selling fruit, spices/herbs, meat, or vegetables, others selling handmade crafts.

You easily got distracted with handmade crafts and toys.

Bucky looked – noticing how you got easily distracted, he just sighs an tries to not get annoyed.

He notices as your eyes were filled wonder, even glancing at your hair too.

You seem to have a soft, sweet face with the eyes of an angel.

“Why cant you just stay focused for once Y/N. . .”

He said – being a hypocrite as he found himself, getting distracted by you.

Before his eyes dart around nervously as they search for any threats. He seems on edge – always looking around as he looks for Hydra members or even agents.

He then went over to the fruit vendors – still keeping a close eye on you while spoke in Romanian trying buy a few plums for you and him.

You then picked up a little wooden carved wolf smiling at it as Bucky looks at the fruits.

Bucky glares at you – you smile and your beauty makes him stop and stare for a few moments.

“Y/N, put that down. We don't have time for that.”

He said – now coming back over to you.

“I told you we're on the run and we can’t risk letting the enemy find either of us.”

He whispers – now close enough only you could hear him.

You sighed, a small pout on your lips as you put back the carved wolf.

Then spots a grumpy unhappy looking plushie bear.

“Oh look! It's you!”

You said – picking up the blue grumpy looking plushie bear.

“Put that down you brat! We don’t have time for this!”

He looks at you – there was a look of annoyance and frustration.

Bucky was also nervous as he looks for any signs of a threat – and he glances at the plushie.

He thinks of it as a waste of time.

“I’m buying it!”

You said to Bucky.

“No, you aren't. Put it down. It’s a waste of good money!”

He tries to reach for the plushie to take it from you.

“It’s not wasting if I love it!”

You said – cradling it protectively close.

“It is also wasting since we’re on the run and it’s not the time for toys!”

He seems annoyed as he tries and snatch the plushie bear away from her.

 “Ooo, ok blue bear, I’m gonna call you Bucky!"

You hugged the plushie bear.

“Stop it you brat! You are so annoying!”

Bucky said annoyed – but he thinks you looked adorable.

Though it made him roll his eyes – when she insisted call a plushie by his name.

You just held it protectively close.

“Give it to me!”

Bucky tried to forcefully take it from you.

You held it protectively – “no!”

You scowled.

Bucky tried to take the plushie away, he grabs the plushie’s arm as he tries to force it away from you as you tried to protect it.

 “Give it here kid!”

“I’m 25, not a kid!”

You argued – though it seemed hilarious right now.

“You are acting like one.”

He glares at you – still holding onto the plushie’s arm as he refuses to give it to you.

“No!”

You said again.

It was then Bucky spots a few familiar looking agents up ahead behind her.

Bucky seems to pause – then glances again over at the agents, who are still unaware of their presence.

He looks back at you.

“We need to get out of here!”

He tries to move you in a direction, but you were still holding onto the stupid plushie.

You frowned looking behind yourself – your eyes widened and she froze seeing the familiar Hydra general blending in with the crowd in casual clothes as he and his men were seemingly looking for them.

Bucky grabs the plushie, tossing it aside – then grabs your hand and pulls you in a different direction.

He is now trying to act fast as he leads you away from the general and agents. He seems to be on edge as he eyes dart back and forth quickly trying to find a safe place.

"Just..."

You looked around then at Bucky – if the acted casual too blending in with the crowd, they wouldn’t be spotted.

"Blue, put your arm around me and pretend to laugh at something I said!"

You say seeing more agents – the former nickname you had for him slipping out in the mist of the situation.

Bucky has an annoyed look on his face – but he still decides to follow your plan for the moment – seeing how it made sense.

So he puts his arm around you and pretend to laugh at something you said.

“Heh. . .Heh, Heh heheh. . . Very funny. . .”

He said – and you almost had to stop from laughing out loudly yourself at how horrible that sounded.

So you simply rolled her eyes amused – seemingly their role-playing worked as the agents paid them no attention and walked past without noticing either of them.

“You need to work for on your acting skills though!”

You said – once they passed.

“I’m not an actor. I'm a super soldier, princess. . .”

He mutters – annoyed by your comment as he seems to be on edge – always looking around nervously.

“We’re still not safe. . .”

You rolled your eyes again at his former words – “anyways let’s go!”

Bucky was still seemingly on edge as he follows you.

He keeps looking behind him to see if they are still being followed.

His blue eyes were darting around nervously.

You had almost tripped onto the escalators – again because of your heeled boots.

Bucky scowling seeing almost trip again – but he still tries not to yell at you as he glares and sighs, shaking his head.

“You really need to get some new shoes, doll. . .”

He keeps his eyes darting around as he follows you.

You were going to answer – but her eyes widened as you saw a few agents taking the opposite side of the escalator – but you were crowded in you and couldn't move.

Bucky stops and freezes as he spots them too.

“Crap. . . We have to go.”

He tries pull you away in a different direction – his eyes dart around nervously as he looks for any escape routes.

The escalators were too close – you’d be spotted.

You looked around then suddenly said to Bucky – “kiss me!”

Bucky pauses and his eyes dart to you as he looks at you in disbelief.

He blinks in surprise.

 “What?”

He says confused – nervous, an unsure of what to do.

“Why?”

He says, seeming a bit skeptical of your plan.

“Physical displays of affection make people uncomfortable!”

You said blurt out – knowing the agents will look away seeing a couple kiss.

Bucky still seems unsure of it but he looks at you with the most serious expression.

He sighs and thinks about it for a second as he makes a hard decision.

“. . . Okay. . .”

He says as he slowly leans towards you to kiss you – he still has a annoyed look on his face but tries to relax.

He kisses you softly and he sighs.

He still feels annoyed about your plan – but he seems a bit relieved that they didn't get caught by the agents as he looks at you.

He’s still not sure if he likes you or not– j but he still seems to really enjoy the kiss.

You both then slowly pull away the moment the agents were out of sight.

But stops kissing you – the look of annoyance reappearing.

“You’re crazy.”

He sighs and rubs his face – “. . .I can’t believe I kissed you. . .”

“Oh please, it’s not I like just kissed Richard Madden or something!”

You grumbled sarcastically – as you reached the floor.

He looked at you with the same serious expression – but it quickly changes into a pissed off expression.

“. . .What? Richard, who?”

Bucky sounds agitated as he looks at you.

He’s not only annoyed by what you said – but the kiss. He tries to put the kiss out of his mind.

“Richard Madden. . .? The British actor. . .?” You said “You know the guy who played in Bodyguard or even prince charming in the live action Cinderella!”

“I don't care about no British actor we just kissed!”

He scoffs as he glances away angrily.

“. . .And?”

You ask – raising an eyebrow.

Bucky was shocked by your response as he looks at you in disbelief.

“You’re. . . You’re not embarrassed?”

He asks.

“Well. . . yes. . . but hey, it got us out of there!”

You said.

“. . .Right.”

He grumbles looks away as is pissed. He rubs his face in annoyance again and he just tries to forget about it.

“What?”

You ask – seeing the annoyed grumpy expression on his face.

“Nothing. . . Nothing at all. Just shut up and stop talking about Ricker Maddened.”

He grumbles – getting you both back out into streets again.

“Richard Madden.”

You corrected him.

“And – I don’t care.”

He grumbles under his breath.

You just rolled your eyes as he quickly pulled you back into the apartment – that kiss continuously replaying his mind. . .

He’d be lying if he said – the warmth of your lips against his didn’t feel good or made his heart race. . .

Perhaps, there was a reason why he came for you. . .

tagging everyone who was interested in the first part ( One more part then the story will be finished ):

@kiekiekiki @ijustneedpopcorn @geminigengar @batsyforyou </3

PART 1 | PART 2

And yes - I used references from catws xD

#sergeant james buchanan barnes #sergeant james barnes #sergeant barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky barnes #winter soldier #the avengers #avengers #marvel #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #eunoiawrites #winter soldier!bucky #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #the winter soldier #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier x y/n

[amoriscustos]

sooooo i’m finally fully putting my shinies together and i think i need a bigger flag…

#i wanted to do a character specific moment but… #i have more on my ita bag #more just sitting around #and two reinako pins living on my zelda flag #idk why i thought this little thing would be enough… #mobile tbd.

[devotedlystrangewizard]

anyway if, by the time i have figured out how to code a game, we still dont have it (and i expect we wont) i WILL make an rpg with aro "love" interests. ur protagonist can be an aroallo whore now. whats love if not the thing that some people feel sometimes. some of your allies are only down to have sex with you and will reject you outright if you try to romance them. no monogamy limits outside of maybe specific actual romances. these aros would be absolutely destroyed by the potential fandom but its ok i didnt make them for you <2

#ramblings #it wont be a big rpg i mean. solo dev moment #unless i magically get some decent classmates in school willing to back me up #OR i dare to put myself out there. on the internet. and ask for help. #but for now it is a solo thing #i like games with love interests weve all seen how i talk about my 3 da boyfriends. and gale #but man i wish we had something where sex didnt eventually lead to a romantic confession #like as an aroallo person i just think maybe it would be nice. #& like. specifically aro. you can be specifically aro. some companions would be specifically aroallo #not 'im in it for the sex but you can romance me if you do your best' no i want SEX. and SEX ALONE! #as i was writing this post i remembered how aro characters are treated (will never forget 'but shes still ace in my fic') #and yes. these characters despite being explicitly aromantic. would still get romantic fics #and yes. i would hate that happening. #but also as i said. i didnt make them for you. your toys are right there. look. fwb to lovers is overdone. go play baldur #this post WAS triggered by me thinking about baldursg despite me really liking that game #i love that game but it sucks i cant just. idk. experience my specific brand of homosexuality #listen marrying el to gale was delightful but my actual self insert character was so SO alone #and withers going 'thou hast no bosom companion why' actually made me a little mad. sorry #like no ones gonna cater to aroallos except for aroallos. i know this. but it still kinda sucked

[waywardsalt]

the phantom hourglass manga is the one i care about the most out of all of the loz manga and therefore the one i am most willing to rip apart because of its relation to the game, its own problems, and the potential that was lost or thrown away for any reason at all

making this separate than the list of things i liked about the phantom hourglass manga

im not going to be too organized about this; ill go by topic and in each topic go in chronological order through the manga and everything else will probably be all over the place

im not even going to touch the story yet and just go after the art off the bat because i really believe that this manga has the weakest art of all of them. i dont know if its due to some kind of time crunch or a lack of care but its really… im not expecting any of these books to have killer art, but in ph it just feels like there was less effort with inconsistencies in some designs and either very low detail or just absent backgrounds. this feels like a mean-spirited critique since i understand that manga is difficult to create and requires a lot of effort but its just visually… worse than the loz manga that came before or after it.

some specific grievances i have with the art are things like inconsistent designs of some characters (linebeck is hard to draw and i get that but hes just… never totally consistent) and some items like weapons (the shape of bellumbeck’s sword changes during the fight for some reason) and stuff is… left out. the fire temple has basically no layout since link’s just in some flavor of void for the entire blaaz fight. one of the panels with linebeck’s ship shows it from the behind at an angle where you should see the deck but its just not there

his ship is also missing its chimney on the cover art

this is also more of an opinion thing but the way astrid looks almost nothing like her game counterpart is just… it’s a nickpick based on opinion but that is Not The Same Character.

you can absolutely tell a fantastic story with lacking art, but the reason why im criticizing this manga’s art is because its the tenth in a series of manga who, up until this point, has had consistently good art, and then it drops off with weak backgrounds and character inconsistencies.

plus, i really care about how this story is visually portrayed.

the pacing, even with half of the story cut, is also a bit of a problem. as far as i'm aware, this is the only loz manga to have significant chunks of the story cut out, and while it admittedly works well with only half of the story, it fucks with the pacing a bit. specifically, it screws over linebeck's arc, which i'll talk about more in a different section, but it also kind of glosses over the phantom sword and (obviously) loses some possible time for further character exploration and whatever. the cut from the ghost ship right to jolene right to the final boss is, while handled well, kind of abrupt.

obviously, cutting half of the damn story will make what's kept feel a little too fast, but even some of the stuff more original to the manga is paced weirdly or is just... eh.

there's a bit after neri is found where linebeck decides to stop working with link and basically ditches him and this whole thing lasts one to two goddamn pages before everything is patched up and good and... why even include it if you turn the page and oh problem fucking solved. it's even a little out of character for linebeck at that point since a few pages before he's seen getting the sands of time for link and it's... it make sense but it's a really extreme character choice and while it serves its purpose (introducing the idea of linebeck not valuing other people very much and realizing that) it's still extremely brief.

the added stuff with linebeck being a past member of the ghost ship, while fine and interesting at first glance is also a strange choice that doesn't work all that well? it works for characterization and all of that but it makes for a weird situation with linebeck's character motivation where he's a coward and after the ghost ship for the treasure on it, but if he was present on the ghost ship literally as it was fucking gutted then he would know exactly what the danger of the ship is and want to avoid it no matter what. in the game his motivation for going after the ghost ship works because he doesn't know for certain whats on that ship and has never been on it. plus, aside from character backstory and whatever, it doesnt serve much of a purpose. linebeck even makes some comments about the ship's interior and the like but it all amounts to nothing because link never actually goes into the ship anyways. it's just a weird backstory to give linebeck.

the shuffling around (and cutting of one of) the three final bosses is also weird. it makes sense for the story order the manga goes with, but it actually lowers the stakes for the bellumbeck fight (in the game literally everything is on the line but in the manga its just linebeck and they absolutely use that to their advantage but still) and mixing the ghost ship fight and bellum fights make the final encounter really brief and kind of anticlimactic in some way. it's difficult to express, but the order of the final bosses in the game makes bellum a more interesting villain and melds with linebeck's arc in a much more interesting way. it feels like there was a specific reason for that given order and for the manga to just toss that aside means it loses something.

also reserving pretty much an entire chapter for jolene is A Choice to make. there's nothing wrong with using an adaptation to flesh out a character but here you don't learn anything new about jolene she just kind of makes very little sense in her motivations when you give her more screen time but dont change her from wanting to kill linebeck for fucking off but also still liking him maybe. good for you if you like jolene since she got more time here but they did pretty much nothing interesting with her

this is something i figured out while writing this, but the manga actually does Fuck All with the actual hourglass. you could've cut the fucking thing out and it wouldn't have effected the story too much. link never goes into the temple every again and the phantom sword is just. made on request with link having no interaction with it before using it to kill bellum. the only time the phantom hourglass is actually plot relevant aside from link first getting it and then using it to gather sand is when bellum tells link to bring it to the temple and then it's used exactly once to stop time and then it's used as proof that everything happened. oshus says link needs to use it and the sand to break the curse over the temple of the ocean king and then that never actually happens the sand and the hourglass is just used once to stop time once and otherwise it might as well not be in the story it's so weird. it's also implied that oshus needs the sand to restore tetra after he returns to his own true form but they dont say anything about that after he initially mentions it so who cares. oshus also tells link that zuaz will teach him how to defeat bellum. link never meets zuaz and still beats bellum anyways.

it feels like they cut the latter half of the story but forgot that the fucking majority of linebeck's entire goddamn character arc happens in that part of the story. sure, most of the cutscenes and whatever happens in the first part and linebeck does develop a bit in the first part but he doesn't really start to change until after the ghost ship, when you get his letter and his dialogue starts to change slightly to suggest that he's starting to like link more and care about something other than the possibility of treasure. the manga cutting out the latter half of the story but still making linebeck's arc end in similar places makes his arc feel really fast and even abrupt in the manga. he goes from being fully motivated to get treasure and still kind of selfish to caring a lot for link and deciding not to wish for treasure and the time was just NOT put in to make that a smooth transition.

honestly linebeck overall got fucked in the manga more than any other character. his arc was shafted, his characterization is strange and even kind of changed from the game, he's never drawn consistently and doesn't even look great since he seems to be stuck between two styles when he's drawn, he's more shallow and generally a less interesting character, and while most of that is probably a product of having one book to cover ph, it's still a problem.

like with all of the loz manga, the extremely limited amount of space and time the story is given absolutely fucks it over so you really are stuck with telling nothing more than an abridged and seriously inferior version of the story. i dont care how good the original stuff is if it barely qualifies as a good adaptation. the story wasn't told all of the way and none of the game's strengths are kept or expanded upon. you lose the majority of the best character's arc and depth. half of the story was cut. the title item is barely used. it feels like they didn't really care about adapting phantom hourglass and just hashed out a trimmed-down version of the story to fit into 188 pages and while there was some effort put in with a bit of a unique take on linebeck but it just falls flat when everything around it feels like it wasn't given a second thought.

i'm not suggesting that the author's didn't fucking care, i don't know what the process was with this, but it just... it doesnt feel like they actually wanted to earnestly create a good adaptation of this game. i have an altered perspective on all of this because this game is my special interest and something i deeply care about and inspect the little details of and it kinda just sucks that phantom hourglass never got a good adaptation because... this game has some serious potential for a really good extended adaptation.

Unlike the other Zelda games that the other manga cover, the structure of the journey in Phantom Hourglass has an insane amount of space for fleshing out of character, exploration of new concepts or character relationships, or just.. whatever you want. Providing you cover the original story, of course. Off the bat, there's a nebulous amount of travel time between islands, which can be used by authors for character moments and interactions and just little moments that can be used to further themes or concepts. You can use the implied time overseas between islands to have some interactions between Link and Linebeck. Show the three fairies hanging out with each other. Show the whole crew becoming closer to each other as time drags on.

Linebeck's existence and function within Phantom Hourglass alone is so fucking unique and amazingly good for an extended adaptation. In most other Zelda games, the companions are pretty much glued to Link's side and follows him through dungeons, or they're characters locked in a specific place, more or less divorced from Link's quest, but Linebeck is an integral part of the plot, present for every part of it as it advances, and yet he's out doing fuck-all while Link is in dungeons. He's a great excuse for authors to add detail to islands, write new characterization for background characters, or even just give Linebeck his own b-plot running concurrently with the game's normal plot. He's important to the plot and yet doesn't touch the gameplay; he's free to do whatever you want while Link does dungeon stuff. One possible idea I've mentioned before is the idea of, while Link is in the temple of the Ocean King, is to create and explore a possible relationship between Oshus and Linebeck. Scenes of them talking can be used to flesh out Oshus as a character and to add some extra depth to Linebeck and make his arc more interesting to follow.

There is... SO MUCH you can do with Phantom Hourglass if you care enough to do it, and I'm just so frustrated that we got this solid 4/10 of a manga.

#salty talks #bitching about the loz manga #hi if you think i'm wrong or made a mistake in this i implore you to fucking yell at me for it #i care about this game so fucking much that i would love to know if i fucked this up in any way #anyways uhhhh yeah. oof. it sucks. #i dont like jolene at all and have tags blacklisted to reflect that and will not touch stuff w/ her so thats why i dont read this much #jolene wanting to kill linebeck but still being implied to be attached to him makes me slightly uncomfortable ngl #probably one of the biggest reasons why i dislike her so much she gives me really bad vibes and is annoying #anyways. yall out here talking about how this manga has good dadbeck moments are fucking lying #maybe i cant see it because i have a good relationship with my dad but at best he's just. idk he gives a shit abt link at the most #i hate manga astrid i hate her so muhc. like. look at astrid in the game. what the fuck were the manga artists smoking #game astrid looks nothing like manga astrid and i like game astrid better. #this is incoherent bc im tired and i dont know how to write things like this and im so fucking tired #if you want clarification about any of this like you want me to talk about something specific? #send an ask or bring it up in a reblog or smth ill gladly discuss this book and why i kinda want to feed it to my dog #i just. game linebeck has queer vibes. game linebeck can be read as autistic #manga linebeck is neither. milquetoast ass fuckin wet cardboard take on a character #i dont even hate him he just fucking sucks compared to game linebeck #like. i hold game bellumbeck in such high regard bc everything about is is wonderful its a beautiful climax #every little thing about it is great i love the stakes i love the implications you can make about linebeck about bellum #the music the atmosphere the events leading up to it its place compared to other final bosses #manga bellumbeck is cool but its not what it could be #i didnt add any more photo evidence for art grievances bc theres a lot. bellumbeck's design changes between chapters #can you tell when making this post is no longer fueled by tired hate. can you #i thought about painting a target on my back and tagging this as phantom hourglass but thats a bad idea lol

[romeoandromeo]

Hi frend I would just like to remind you that I love you (platonically ofc) and hope that you have a amazing day/night!

(also we are now septum ring twins, congrats on the piercing bro!) -T

I love you too friend!! AND TWINS OMG thank you!!! It literally hurt so bad 😭😭😭 I think if it ever closed I wouldn't get it redone but I REALLY love how it looks omg

#also a bunch of my friends that i used to have in highschool all told me I'd look terrible with a septum ring #so i was sort of discouraged from it for a while and also i wasn't sure if it would even look good on me #so i kind of just got it on a whim i was just like.... why tf not lets just do it #i WAS actually going to get a labret piercing but i sort of decided against it last minute but i still really want it #maybe a little tmi and gross and whatever but sometimes i really struggle taking care of my teeth specifically #and I'm afraid im going to have a depression episode/adhd moment while its healing and stop taking care of my teeth for a few days #and i have this fear that its going to make my piercing infected so like ill get it eventually because i do really want it but like #like idk im scared lol

[strwbrymlkshake]

I wanna post about my recovery + ramble in tags at the same time but I'm not motivated enough to come up with a mediocre yandere post rn , so just know that my life is going?? Somewhat good in terms of romance

#mine #💿 #i can only ramble in tags. posts feel too official im shy</3 i feel like tags are less likely to show up on search engines as well... #just forever paranoid about the blog being discovered you know how it goes. personal stuff (proceeds to post it online) #in the general scheme of things im doing alright. tho im currently obsessed with a game instead of a man so idk if that counts #feels like im just waiting for an important event to happen. like ill have a great life changing thing but rn im just in limbo. waiting! #i dont mind it because i take joy in the small things in my day to day life but i feel like i should be doing bigger things. doing more #hell. BEING more. theres lots of cookie cutter paths i could take but none of them fit the mould im making yk. its boring. #on one hand im proud of myself for being able to stay focused on my interests instead of wasting time on a guy who doesnt care abt me #like i still am doing that a Little Bit but its not as detrimental to my daily life as it used to be. like its fine now #on the topic of.. him. we dont really talk much but i feel theres sort of a weird air between us now and he could tell i was in the yanzone #im not too broken up about it because i repeatedly told myself this would happen n i knew it would but everythings okay as it is rn #i still do admire him but not as intensely. the moment he stops hinting at even the possibility he could be interested my attention drops #i want to be everything but at the same time i want to be nothing. i want to be god and the earth and the sun and death and disease. #im working up to being perfect but at the same time i know no such thing exists so meanwhile im just. working up. to SOMETHING #i want everyday of my life to be an adventure. at the same time im much too tired for that. guess thats why i stick with emotional trifles #im not in love with him or anything. its the same as everyone else. like various dials in a lab that i have to keep below 50 #or else bad things will happen. like a scientist with anxiety. its like i be insane for a little while and the dial goes down #but any others could easily skyrocket because i find little things i adore about one person and latch onto them!!! like art #i feel im the most socially acptble level of yandere out of them all rn. in insanity specifically tho. in othr aspects im still weird #the power of autism is condemning me from learning proper social skills but by god i am TRYING my hardest n learning new things #i sit around waiting but atleast im building skills while doing it. part of what life is about i guess! #you come for the yandere content and then i just post philosophical rants. a tragedy most awful to those who can relate #but im okay with it as long as these strange lengthy rambles help me recover better!! no problem at all. one day i will be better #tl;dr i havent found love yet but im not miserable either. trying to improve myself through numerous mental quarrels n experience

[yongseungkim]

.

#and like despite doing social things ive been feeling more lonely than ever #part of it too is tryign not to fill my time with social media doom scrolling #but that also means i get bored more easily and idk #i need to start enjoying time by myself again but i always justfeel like #theres soemthing wrong with me if im not spending my time socially like in the sense that no one wants to hang out with me #my brain always wanders to that and like very specifically to her like #whos she choosing to spend time with if that person isnt me #cuz honestly thought id be seeing her a bit more after being roommates and while thats kinda true its also not true like she doesnt spend #that much time at home esp since we have to share keys so its also like damn all this time she spends outside of home #she doesnt spend it w meeeeeeeee #cuz like even when other people were staying with her #i feel like they like came to practice together all the time but w me shes like gone to practice with jealousy number 2 person lol #who she spends copious amounts of time with regardless like theyre so attached at the hips and theres been a lot of like #WHY NOT ME moments with that and subconscious thoughts about how i could change myself to become that to her #when genuinely like idk she has a different relationship with everyone and with me its never gonna be like that #shes made her choice yaknow and nothing i can do will change that #she do see me as someone close cannot deny that and our closeness is maybe a little more silent idk #in the sense its not very obvious when we do group stuff together #its aslo weird cuz for me she'll be the person i feel closest to in a group setting but she feels closer to other ppl and tHAT is also #confusing af to meee #just not knowing how to handle all of that #i just also idk #i feel like im just someone whos gonna be villager b in most ppls story #including my own lol idk man im just tired of feeling unworthy

[sanemisstalker]

NSFW /// KNY characters who I think cum particularly hard/ a lot. This could have a part two, I'm eepy, srry.

CW/ Non specific gendered/genitalia reader / Cum... like an insane amount of cum / BDSM Dynamic (ENMU)/ Light Gore (ENMU)/ tbh, Enmu. / Cum-swapping (AKAZA)

Sanemi Shinazugawa

-Cums hards AND a lot.

-Sanemi isn't quite sure why is body is the way it is, maybe it's his breath control mixed with the insane amount of testosterone and panic pumping through his veins on the daily, but Sanemi doesn't struggle to get it up.

-he struggles to stay flaccid. He's far more likely to be hard at any given moment. Not that he's excited, his dick is just permanently stuck at half mast. It takes an insane, highly emotional amount to get him entirely flaccid.

-I think Sanemi's orgasm absolutely shreds him everytime, unanimously. Does that stop him from getting it up in another ten minutes? Absolutely not. I just truly think he's a medical anomaly.

-He cums prematurely, but what does it matter? It literally didn't go down, he's still fucking going, now he's just like, in tears about it.

-I think Sanemi's eyes get really wide and he gets lock jaw, and he seethes and he tries to hold back any noise, but it just shreds the poor guys throat, and now he's sore, and it hurts him to moan, but he just can't help it, you feel so fucking good- and all for him? It's all for him?

-Shakes. Sobs. Sounds incredibly desperate, don't let the facade fool you. If he loves you, he's a crier.

-Also physically cums a lot. Not just by how many orgasms, but by how much each time is. I think he's got an obnoxiously low set of balls. He's made to breed, the poor bastard. If he can't let go in you, both of you are covered in it by the end of the night.

-Sanemi has yet to tap out before you.

Kyōjurō Rengoku

-Cums a lot.

-Rengoku has good stamina, but once he cums, he's done for, no more. He can keep going if he really wants to, or if you look like you really need him, but chances are the first round wad more than enough.

-vocal, but in a fatherly way. Sex with Rengoku is probably very... comfortable.

-Until he cums and now you're sticky from your chest to your upper thigh. The range of his shot is insane. He cums buckets, and he barely blinks. His breathing gets a little ragged, and his chest a little shakey, but that's it.

-He needs to go night night after, though. Feeling any amount of joy that doesn't come from stuffing his face does a number on him emotionally and physically. He needs a cuddle and a conversation about... idk, taxes after.

-Won't beg to cum in you, but really, really wants to.

-He always pulls out like a gentleman (if you can be much of a gentleman when you're balls deep), but you can always tell that he wants to see your face so bad when he pumps you full.

-Will not ask. That'd be rude.

-Talks you through your orgasm, but that's another post for another day.

Enmu

-Fuck, I just know he's a screamer. He cums so hard.

-This guy's a fucking mess, but it takes work.

-Enmu is such a good submissive that you're always shocked when he decides to mouth off to you, or when he forgets a command. Not too shocked, though. It's very clearly intentional. It always is.

-He gives himself a bit in between each 'screw up' to make sure he's edged himself mentally properly (very hard, he's almost always some kind of aroused, and he's prone to cumming untouched, so that build up is a little diificult.)

-While he doesn't struggle to ask for things, and his dignity is subzero, Enmu still appreciates a stray chase here and there. After all, it's the only thing mentally stimulating enough for him to cum.

-In any normal dynamic with Enmu, he isn't often left using his dick. So when you've got a spear through his wrists, locking them behind his back, one hand pulling his hair, the other jerking his cock with thoughtless speed-

-Enmu can never cum harder than when he's recieving borderline abuse. His dick looks irritated, going untouched for months previous, and now it's receiving all this attention. Can you blame him for being this loud?

-His legs shake, his whole body recoils. He drools and screams- laughs and wails. He cries with the brightest smile you've ever seen. His hips buck up. You're not being gentle, and he's so, so happy. The orgasm is ripping through every nerve in his body.

-He feels like he's in the sun again.

-He's hoping Muzan can see him look so pathetic. You're just hoping the demon lord stays out of your man's head.

Akaza

-cums like a horse.

-a lover, truly. That's the only word encompassing enough to describe Akaza's efforts sexually. He's a fantastic lover.

-... who can go for hours... days even and never get tired. Every orgasm blows off his shoulders- It's all about you. It always has been, it always will be.

-You've made him cum hard before, it's a rarity, but it's possible... Its just nothing feels as good to him as watching you cum, so he'll do whatever must be done-

-and if that means pumping you full again and again, until you're leaking from every accessible orifice, so be it.

-He'll lick your hole clean, reveling in the way you twitch after your.... you lost count after the fifth one. That won't stop him from tongue fucking you.

-His cum tastes... shockingly good. You like to give him head, and then come up to give him a kiss. He'll pull your tongue down, wanting to see it in your mouth just before you swallow. You always look so proud of yourself. He can't help but reward you with a kiss before you even get it down.

-there's way to much for one swallow. You can barely manage to keep all of it in your mouth while showing him. Your effort is precious, though.

-Akaza looks really good with cum on his lips. It's one of the only times you see him really flustered.

#sanemi x you #sanemi x y/n #demon slayer x reader #sanemi smut #sanemi x reader #demon slayer smut #hashira x reader #rengoku smut #enmu x reader #enmu x y/n #enmu x you #enmu smut #akaza x reader #akaza smut #akaza x y/n #rengoku x reader #rengoku x y/n #kny x reader #kny smut

[torialefay]

PLEASE tell me you saw chan do the smart challenge at the fanmeet with hyune and binnie, i have many thoughts and things to say (specifically about his hips moving game) yet none of them are in the bible

OMG YES SO SO BAD.

and idk why but he is making me have horny soft girl hours.

like just imagine morning sex with that man. his cute little "good morning" voice he sends on bubble before smiling at you and throwing an arm around you to cup your boobs. he'd be so gentle and soft and bring his face in close so he could snuggle up next to your neck, leaning in to give you soft kisses.

you'd both be sleepy as hell, but he'd love it when you'd grind into him with your ass, silently begging him for more. he's already naked so you can feel himself easily getting harder and harder. you'd turn your face so you could let your mouth find his. and that's his favorite thing in the world. letting his tongue run on top of yours. until he slowly brings a hand up so you can suck on one of his fingers before he brings it down and starts to slowly finger you, bucking his hips and grinding into you the whole time.

he'd back his face away so he could watch your reactions as he gently, lovingly rubbed his hands around the way he knew you liked it. and how you wiggled your body around in just the same motion as he was moving himself around you, looking like you were moving together in one motion.

once he made sure you were dripping, he'd slowly creep his hand down to his cock, giving it a few quick pumps before lazily letting it rub you before pushing inside. he'd go so slow and gentle, savoring each little tiny movement of you around him. he'd kiss the side of your jaw as he watched it drop open from the pressure. he'd get harder and harder as you backed yourself up into him further, making sure you felt all of him.

he'd let himself rest inside of you for a moment, observing how beautiful you looked for him with half-closed lids. he'd wonder how he'd gotten so lucky as he admired the moan you let out for him once he slowly drew himself back and then in again.

he'd hook his arm around your chest, pulling himself as closely to you as possible. he wanted to feel your heartbeat as he made love to you. he wanted so badly to be connected to you forever. but for now, he'd have to be satisfied that this was it.

he'd slowly run his tongue along your outer ear as he began fucking into you the tiniest bit faster. you couldn't help but let out a few breathy moans of his name. and he didn't think he'd last much longer.

you'd match your own hips to the roll of his, not letting him draw back out of you for one second. he'd ubderstand immediately that you needed more and drop his hand down to your core to continue his finger's work.

he'd keep going like that, softly but steadily until he knew you were at your breaking point.

"so fucking pretty, baby," he'd whisper into the back of your head, almost so quietly that you couldn't hear him. it would send you over the edge, and you'd feel yourself start to slowly convulse around him. you'd feel like you were burning from the inside out. you'd want to burn into him. throw both of you into this fire together until there was nothing left.

as he'd watched you delicately move around him, he'd get so caught up in the low breaths coming out of you. hearing the sweet whispers of him name spew out left and right, like it was the only word in the world. the only word that could occupy your head at this very moment.

his hips circled you, continuing until he felt warmth in his very core, one of your legs wrapping around him now to draw him as closely as you could.

he let himself become engulfed in the thought of you. how you were so perfect for him. how he wanted nothing more than to be in this moment forever. inside of you and connected to you in the deepest way possible. he'd feel like his heart would bubble over, swelling to twice it's size just from seeing your face contort for him.

"gonna cum in you baby," was all he'd be able to get out before letting himself have a few more quick flicks of his hips into you. he'd spill into you with so much force that it would take him off guard. he'd cherish every moment of his high, continuing to fuck into you and letting out deep, gutteral moans until he was absolutely numb.

once he'd exhausted himself, he'd pull his face back into your neck, planting a couple of soft kisses and reaching a hand up to stroke your hair. he'd let his cock rest inside of you as it went soft. he just wanted to take in the comfort he felt resting inside of you.

he'd run his hand along the lines of your body so that he could find your hand. he'd entangle his lovingly in yours before guiding both of your hands to rest on your hip.

with one final cuddle into you, he'd take his time resting his head with yours, planting a soft kiss to the base of your neck. as you laid, his cock still tucked snuggly inside of you, you'd let out a deep, satisfied sigh and a small smile before letting your lids close all the way. they got heavier and heavier before you'd finally give in and let yourself fall back into your sleep.

#skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #bangchan imagines #bangchan scenarios #bang chan #bangchan x female reader #bangchan x reader #bangchan x you #bangchan smut #skz smut

[missuswalker]

𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 || 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✮ summary: after peter finishes… well, you know, he can’t stop himself from coming to see you. as if he’s not clingy enough, he can’t help but be all over you. at least he’s (trying) to sit still for once

✮ warnings: brief nsfw content, masturbation (not proofread)

✮ notes: man idk i just feel like peter is all clingy and touchy after he nuts

peter’s mind had been on you all day, trapped on the image of your hand wrapped around his cock. of course, that wasn’t exactly the case at the moment, considering it was his own hand. as he pumped himself, he tried his best to remember that little face you make when you cum. he’d been working on this problem of his for way longer than he should have, and he was searching for anything to push him over the edge.

the more he thought about you, your pretty tits, and that hella tight skirt, the closer he could feel his release building. picking up his pace, he bites back a whimper. more thoughts of you didn’t help his attempt at silence, a grunt or two escaping his lips. he pushes his head further back into his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut. free hand balled into a fist, he lets out a low moan, cumming all over his stomach and fingers.

after cleaning himself up, he stares at the photo of you two on his bedside table. he wanted to see you so bad. maybe it was just the post-nut fog, but he just needed you wrapped up in his arms. throwing on some jeans and a tshirt, he lets his mom know he’s heading out with a quick shout. he’s at you window in less than a second, sliding it open. he always told you to lock your window in case a creep decides to crawl in, but, in reality, the only creep that ever used it was him.

“hey, peter,” you greet, not even bothering to turn around. whenever your window was suddenly opened, you automatically knew it was your idiot boyfriend who could never just use the front door. “it’s not peter, it’s a scary murderer and i’m here to kill you,” he says, making a stabbing motion behind your head. “oh no,” you say, your tone bored and plain as you continue to study for your exams.

peter rolls his eyes, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “not happy to see me?” he teases, his lips connecting with the smooth skin of your neck. you push his face away, writing something down in a tiny notebook, papers scattered across your desk. “i’m studying,” you respond, eyes locked on your notes. his mouth is back on your neck immediately, despite you having just pushed him away.

“come on, babe, let’s hang out, you can study later, yeah?” he hums, nibbling right below your jaw. he absolutely would not be giving up, and you knew it. turning around in your chair, you look up at the silver-haired boy, giving an agitated look. he only gives back an innocent smile, pulling you up by your hand. “why are you so adamant on hanging out specifically right now,” you groan, allowing him to lead you to your bed. “no reason.”

pushing you down onto your unmade bed, he jumps, landing beside you. “hey, hot stuff,” he grins, posing with his face resting in the palm of his hand. “hey, dipshit,” you say in an overly-lovey tone, sarcasm evident in your dramatic smile. “you love me,” he laughs, pulling you into his arms, ruffling your hair. “sometimes,” you joke back, feeling less aggravated at your distraction of a boyfriend. he smiles, his face finding a place in the crook of your neck.

“mm, missed you,” he hums, taking a deep breath. you grin, playing with his hair. “i missed you, too.” he kisses your shoulder multiple times, moving up your neck and jaw. “i love you,” he continues, his lips lingering on your cheek. “i love you, too,” you snort, furrowing your eyebrows at his overly-affectionate behavior. eventually he settles, his leg bouncing a bit as he lays next to you, arms loose around your waist. “don’t fall asleep,” you tell him, trying to get a look at his face. “i’m not asleep,” he grunts, though it was clear he was about to be.

“yeah, okay.”

“i’m not.”

“shut up.”

short and sweet, i love him sm

(send in requests, i beg)

#x reader #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff smut #quicksilver x reader #peter maximoff x y/n #xmen x reader #xmen #x-men #x men x reader #evan peters x reader #evan peters fanfiction #evan peters #tate langdon x y/n #tate langdon x reader #kit walker x reader #kai anderson x reader #james march x reader

[kiwisbell]

helen ; chapter three

the red circle

Si vis pacem, para bellum. Or, the truth.

series masterlist | my masterlist pairing: joel miller x f!reader tags/warnings: 18+ (MDNI), john wick AU, hitman!joel, husband!joel, established relationship, artist!reader, love as worship (and blasphemy), sacrilege in the name of romance, flashbacks, graphic violence, guns, blood + injuries, mentions of rape/SA, cars, bill is here, joel is still a bit of an idiot, childhood/religious trauma, hitman!joel finally hitmans, criminal underworld, secrecy/lies, betrayal, ANGST (still unresolved oopsie), we're getting there though, exposition, conflicting emotions, joel's tattoos are sexy but they're also plot-relevant, Sleeping Together, but not like That, the typical alcohol/smoking/profanity, dividers by @/saradika word count: ~ 7.6k a/n: this chapter marks this fic being halfway done already, which is madness. also, can i just say that i'm loving the amount of people who've specifically been watching john wick because of this fic?? this is my agenda!! as always, thank you so fucking much to mya baby @cavillscurls for beta reading this fic and being, idk, generally the loml. i hope you enjoy chapter 3, my friends! i'm sorry it's been such a long time coming, but life lifed, y'know?? prev | next

“How much?”

“Two million. For now, at least. It’s open.”

“Goddammit, Tommy.”

“I told you to be careful, brother. Now look at you. You’re a loose end.”

Joel resisted the urge to toss his phone. The shower continued running in the bathroom, muffled by the closed door. 

He couldn't lose you. He didn't know life without you. Love had no name until he knew you. He'd christened it with that first kiss, maybe even in the first breath he'd shared with you.

If there was a chance Cabrera’s kid could come back for you, even if just to hurt Joel, he needed to see this to its end. There was no choice. 

“He tried to rape my wife,” said Joel. “He's lucky I’m only tryin’ to kill him.”

Tommy only sighed, and the call ended.

I married you, Joel.

I loved you.

You lied to me.

He rests his elbows on his knees as he watches you doze. The sunlight shines neatly through the break in the curtains, and you squint against it in your sleep, turning over with a little huff and bringing the duvet over your head. You’ve always needed total darkness for a half-decent sleep. 

You’ve been crying. The tears leave remnants on your cheeks, a dryness at the outer corners of your eyes, salt seeping moisture from your skin. He’s never known a thing so soft as the drag of his hand down your back. 

I loved you.

You lied to me.

You will never understand. There are reasons—too many to count—that civilians cannot know. He may have gotten you to relative safety in the Continental, but there are a hundred dangerous people in this building who have a long-standing grudge against Joel Miller or the man he worked for. A hundred people who would take you as collateral the moment you stepped outside the grounds. But as long as you remain inside, you’re safe.

He just needs to finish the job. He needs to see it through, and he’ll be out. You’ll realise he’s done it all for you.

I loved you.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he watches the rise and fall of your chest beneath the sheets. He broke your heart last night. He watched you turn in on yourself, your eyes so cold, so far away. He listened to you scream, and inside he pleaded: Keep hitting me, baby. Keep shouting. Be mad. He wanted you loud and furious and spitting fire. If you were angry, you still cared. He could work with that. 

And to see you walk away, the fire frozen over, the fight in your marrow sucked out… 

The anguish of losing your ire still stirs in his chest. The guilt peels him away in layers. Acid. 

She’ll understand, he tells himself, you, anyone who’ll listen. She’ll get it someday—why I did it, why I lied. She’ll forgive me.

Forgive me, baby. Don’t let me live the rest of this life never seeing you smile.

“Stop looking at me,” you grumble, your eyes still closed.

Joel averts his eyes. His throat feels tight. “You sleep okay?”

You haul yourself upright and stretch out your back. Joel studies the curve of your spine and the nape of your neck. You’re the muse painters rave about. The reflections of sunlight on water at dusk. The pond of water lilies. 

“You didn’t. Your sheets haven’t even moved.”

“I can’t sleep without you.”

You give him a heavy look, your eyes bleary with sleep. “You managed all those years before me, Joel. Let’s not do this.”

“What if I want to do this?” he says, dropping to the floor next to your bed and taking your hands in his. You try to pry yourself free, but he drops his head and traps you in his rapt vigil. 

“Joel…” Your voice is still groggy, but there’s agony in the way you say his name.

“You’re my wife,” he says against your skin. “You’re the only person I’ve ever loved. You’re the girl I saw that night in the restaurant with the pretty eyes and you’re the girl I called every night just so I could hear your voice, and you’re always gonna be the only fucking girl for me. You’re my reason for everything, baby. I need you. Please… please just understand. You have to know that.”

You’re silent for a long while, your legs curled under you as your own husband kneels as if in prayer. Your throat burns with more tears you have little energy left to shed. You whisper his name.

He looks up and you find you cannot meet his eyes. So you stare at one of the patches of skin that disrupt the brown-grey of his beard. “That first night at the restaurant,” you say, trepidation colouring your voice blue, “you disappeared after the second course. When you came back, you told me you had to take a call. Was that the truth?”

Joel’s eyes are frantic in their search for an answer. “Don’t,” you snap. “Don’t lie to me again. Was that the truth?”

“There—” His voice cuts off, his eyes shuttering. “There was a target. That’s… why I was there in the first place.”

Your sob dies in your chest. It doesn’t even make a noise. You wrench your hands out of his, and he lets you, still kneeling at your bedside like a lost sinner. “Love has never been the problem. You might love me, but you’ve never told me the truth. Not from the first day.”

One of his hands wraps around your ankle. “I wanted out. I wanted out my whole life, and you’re the one who made me find the way. Cabrera, he… He gave me an impossible task. I completed it. And I gave you this ring.” He brushes his thumb over the knuckles of your third finger where your bands are still secure. “You said yes. You married me. Doesn’t this mean something?”

The sound of your hollow laugh hurts more than any words you could use to cut him. “It did,” you confess, “when I knew exactly who my husband was.”

He shakes his head, his lips parting in another desperate cast, but you’re standing up and crossing the room, gathering your toiletries for the bathroom. “What happens now?” you ask. 

Joel stares at the ring on his finger. “I’m going to talk to the Manager. You have to stay here.”

“Okay,” you say softly. Your back is rigid. “Just tell me something.”

“Anything,” says Joel. 

“If I asked to leave,” you whisper, “would you let me go?”

Joel feels his heart crack in two. He remembers the small outdoor wedding, in the heart of May, when he’d seen you walk down the aisle toward him and struggled to find the words, as he always did, that would be good enough. 

I vow to love you, he'd said, his hands trembling as he took yours. I vow to be your partner in all things. I vow to show you every piece of my soul, the way you've given me yours, and to be gentle with your heart. 

I vow to be the man you want, the man you need, and the man you love. 

He’s failed. He knows that. But you smiled at him that day, your eyes brimming with tears that turned black from your mascara, and you kissed him before the officiant said the words. 

I loved you.

“I’d do anything you asked me to,” he says, “but not that.”

Joel made a stop at the Continental Tailor before he went to find the Manager in the lounge. He paid the Tailor a bit too much for the new suit, he realises now, the sleeves a bit too tight, the pants not quite tapered. He was dressing a different body than the one he knew all those years ago. 

Joel weaves through the darkness as a crooning voice sings something about evil men up on the stage. The band is playing along, a smooth jazz tune, and the bodies around him smell of expensive cologne and perfume and vodka. He remembers with a start why he hated this place so much. 

Adjusting his jacket, he finds the Manager sitting in the VIP section on a long curved booth upholstered in crimson velvet, sipping a dry martini. 

“Joel,” he says, lifting his glass in toast. 

“Bill.”

The Manager doesn't look particularly thrilled. “You know there’s an open contract on your head. Who did you have to kill to end up back here?”

“Just a couple people.” Joel sits opposite him. “I need information.”

“And you're here on more business. Does your consort have anything to say about that?”

Joel curls his fingers into a fist atop the table. “I’m invoking my guest privileges. And she is my wife.”

Bill sniffs in amusement. “So, you did end up marrying the gal. Good for you, Joel. She's a stunner.”

“Fuck you, Bill.”

A short, booming laugh. “Nobody will so much as look her way. You have my word and all it means.”

“Doesn't mean much,” says Joel. “I’m just visiting.”

“Don't be the idiot I know you aren’t,” says Bill, leaning forward and setting his glass aside. “You dip so much as a pinky back in this pond, and you won’t get out so easy. Sometime, somewhere, someone’s going to come to you with another impossible task.”

“And I’ll complete it,” says Joel. “Emiliano Cabrera. Where is he?”

“You really wanna do this, Joel?”

“Yeah.”

“Your wife may be safe now, but she won’t be forever.”

“That’s why I’m going to finish it. That’s why I’m going to kill him.”

The Manager sighs, polishing off his martini. “You know damn well business will not be conducted on Continental grounds, Joel. You may as well go have a drink at the bar, take a load off. I can’t tell you anything while you’re inside my hotel.” 

Joel suspected as much. “Then tell me something you can.”

Bill’s nostrils flare and Joel feels some satisfaction knowing he can still push the old man’s buttons. “I’ll tell you what: the game has changed since you left it. Your only chance is to get out now, while you still can. What could possibly warrant the Boogeyman reentering the fold?”

Joel licks his teeth. Your eyes blurring with tears as your skull connected with the ground, your body going limp as he stood above you. The clink of a belt buckle echoes still in his head. If he hadn’t been fast enough—

“It’s personal.”

Bill’s gaze dips. “Well,” he says, “then, unofficially, I wish you the best of luck. But, as a former friend”—Joel snorts —“let me give you a piece of advice. Take your wife home and forget about all of this. I like you, Joel, but for her sake and yours, I’d rather never see you again.”

Joel doesn’t take it personally. “Tell Frank I said hello.”

Bill grabs a full glass from a passing server. “Fuck you, Joel.”

He nods his head, closing the lapels of his jacket and slipping the first button through the opposite slit. As the singer on the stage transitions into the next song, Joel orders a glass of bourbon and watches the bartender slide his drink over on a pristine white napkin. 

“On the house, per the Manager’s request,” says the bartender. “Welcome back, Mr. Miller.”

Pristine—save for the small red circle drawn with marker on the centre. Across the bar, Bill raises his glass in another toast, and Joel leaves the lounge, his drink untouched. 

It’s a Tuesday night, and the Red Circle is lined up around the corner. One must know someone to get inside, and that someone must be a paying member. Joel had a membership by default, being contracted under Cabrera, but it was revoked along with his other privileges once he had completed his task. 

You would hate this place. It’s throbbing bass and flashing neon lights and sweat-slick bodies rubbing up against one another. It’s brick and industrial metal and glass and the people don’t mix, either. 

Maybe part of him is hedonistic, too. He doesn’t think he ever used to be. The job gave him wealth to spend that he never cared to; when he met you, he began to understand the pleasure of material things. Gold shone when it hung around your neck and wrapped around your fingers. Diamonds glittered like the jewels in a crown when you wore them on your ears. And when he pulled you close to him for the first time, undressing you slowly, hooking his fingers in the lace panties he’d bought for you and bringing his mouth to the heat between your legs, Joel began to understand the draw of pleasure. 

It isn’t that he’d never had sex before you. He’d just… never been interested before you. Bodies always felt… too cold. They were complex. They were things to be followed, things to be killed. They were names on a piece of paper. They would bleed all their warmth and light into his palms and he would return, limping, to a house he never cared about and absolve himself of red. He’d never known the thrill of a body until he tucked his hand under the soft swell of your naked breast and put his mouth on yours and felt your heartbeat bleed into his hands. He never wanted to wash it off. 

If I asked to leave, would you let me go?

After the orphanage, Joel visited a church only once. 

He hadn’t meant to find it. He’d heard an organ humming from within. The cathedral was taller than it was wide, built for a small gathering. He’d slipped inside during a sermon, delivered by a pastor with white hair and a pair of wilting hands. Joel watched the tremors pass through his face, the agonising pulse of the vein in his throat, the way he would gulp down mouthfuls of water. He spoke with rhythm, with melody, and when he was finished, he grasped the edges of the pulpit, his head bowed in silent prayer. Joel thought he had never seen a more devoted man in his life. 

When the sermon was over, he waited his turn to speak with the pastor. He did not know why. He hadn’t felt a stirring in his chest at the word of God; he never had.

I’ve never seen you in here before, my son.

Joel shook his head, frowning at the ground. I… left the faith, in a way. When I was young. I’m… sorry.

Devotion is a choice, said the pastor, taking Joel’s hands in his own. They were wrinkled, speckled with age spots. Joel lifted his gaze to find the pastor smiling. As with all things in life. Devotion, my son, is not a birthright. We must find it. Though it may not be His word, you will know someone’s word. And you’ll find it will move you enough that you choose to follow it. To whatever end. 

Joel has been slashed, burned, drowned, whipped, beaten, strangled. He could count the telltale black spots in his eyes like dreamers count sheep. He developed a reputation because he was good at what he did. He was efficient, fast, lethal. He once killed three men in a bar with a pencil, they whispered. A fucking pencil. Word in the Underworld spread of a boogeyman who would take your life in your sleep if you wronged the wrong person, if you were just an unlucky bastard.

Their word never mattered. He’d never knelt in the blood of a victim and prayed for absolution. He would never find it, anyway. His soul was black. 

If I asked to leave, would you let me go?

No word has ever cut so deep as yours. How could he wake up every single day next to the love of his life and lie so easily to your face? How could he put a ring on your finger knowing damn well he’d betrayed your trust every second of your time together and you never even knew about it?

How could he wear the mask of your husband and dream of blood on the very same hands that touched you each night?

Joel checks his watch. It’s one o'clock in the morning. You’ve been sleeping since breakfast. You won’t sleep a wink tonight if this keeps up, but it seems you’d rather do anything in the world than speak with him. 

He doesn’t blame you.

He found his word that night in the restaurant. He’d followed it, followed you, wherever you took him. And he will follow you, his almighty word, beyond the grave, to whatever end you decide. 

He will not abandon his faith. His purpose. He will not throw up his hands and let you walk away. He’s made mistakes he cannot mend. He can’t go back to the day you met and tell you all he should have, rules be fucked. He cannot fix what he’s already broken. You cannot put a piece of tape over fractured glass, a bloodied hand over wounded skin. 

He made his fucking vows. It’s time he lived up to them.

Across the street, Joel watches, turning over the knife in his pocket by the hilt. Emiliano Cabrera and his lackeys step out of Joel’s Mustang and toss the keys to the valet. They skip the line, smacking one another around and jeering at the ladies in line, and Joel feels the hunger pull at his teeth. 

His first target is posted by the east entrance. Joel takes the alley, stepping aside trash bags brimming with used needles and slipping the Glock from the lining of his jacket. The weight of it is formidable in his hand. Under the cover of dark, he slides into a second skin, black as the names they call him. Bringing the gun to the back of the guard’s head, he watches those huge shoulders stiffen.

“Francis,” he says politely.

“Joel,” says the guard. 

“Workin’ late?”

“Why?” says Francis. “You want in?”

“Yeah,” says Joel, “I do. You lost weight.”

“Twenty-seven pounds, if you’ll believe it.”

Fuck. 

Twenty-seven guards tasked with protecting the little shit. Joel may have a reputation, but it’s been years. He was ambushed in his own home last night. And after it all, he’d let the bastard slip between his fingers. 

“Why don’t you take the night off?”

Francis lowers one meaty hand to the piece in his ear and takes it out. Turning his head, he says, “Can you at least lower the gun?”

Joel does. “Wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”

“Word’s going around. They say you’re back.”

“I’m just passin’ through.” 

“Sure, Joel.” Francis offers his hand, and Joel shakes. “You better make it quick. I don’t feel like getting fired.”

“Understood.” Joel slips inside, letting the door click shut behind him. 

Even from afar, the music lives in his chest, a writhing thing that seeks departure by way of his throat. He tries to swallow and it wriggles back up again. The bass throbs hard against his ribs. 

There’s a bathroom on the VIP floor. As he sneaks by the frosted glass partition that separates him from the public, Joel hears the squeak of locker doors. He puts his palm on the door and pushes inside.

Did you see the tits on that girl? says one man in Spanish. Emil got a pretty one.

Another lets out a booming laugh. Shut the fuck up, man. Good pussy and you tuck your tail and run.

Yeah? And you're in here because you scored? 

I’m in here because bitches prefer to choke on clean dick. What's your excuse?

Neither feels the breeze of the shadow slipping behind them. Neither of them sees the man in black lock his arm around one of their necks and squeeze until there's no air left. By the time the other has turned on the porcelain sink and begun to splash his face, the boogeyman has him by the scruff of his neck, fisting the collar of his fluffy white bathrobe. The sink continues running, and he’s choking on the warm water as Joel holds him down.

“Jesus! Fuck!”

“Where is Emiliano?”

“Vete a la mierda,” he splutters. “Let go of me, motherfucker!”

Joel takes one of the man’s fingers and bends it all the way back. His screams are muffled by Joel’s hand.

“Where is Emiliano?”

“The bathhouse, downstairs,” he groans. “Fuck, let me go, pendejo!”

Joel bares his teeth, breaks the man’s neck, and leaves him slumped over the sink, the water still running. 

The bathhouse is doused in red and blue. The water is illuminated from within, and the whites in his victim’s eyes glow where he stands half-submerged, toasting a bottle of champagne to his rowdy friends. Joel flattens himself to the wall, listening for the tread of dress shoes. The music pounds too loudly for him to hear, but he can see the shadow before he sees its owner. 

“Clear,” says the voice. 

When he rounds the corner, Joel drives his knife into the man’s throat and silences his gurgling moans by clamping a hand over his mouth. He slides down the wall, and Joel holds his gaze while the light slowly dims in his eyes. 

One. 

Two more men are waiting behind the partition, hands folded in front of them. Joel does not recognise them. Their suits are pressed, Italian; it seems Cabrera has made some alliances. Joel lies his first victim on the ground and prowls toward his next two. 

They go easily: unsuspecting, they bleed out under his blade, choking on their blood, and he leaves them lying by the foggy partition. Three. 

The music is dreamy, the crooning of two voices set to a throbbing track. In the bathhouse, he hears the sloshing of water and the singing of a group of men nearby. They're singing an old folk song, Joel realises. A song about a ghost. 

Hurry, fall asleep, or the Boogeyman will come for you…

They don't sound particularly frightened by the spectre haunting them. Joel watches them toast their bottles of champagne and grab the waitresses’ asses. It's Emiliano and his friends, all right. Joel spots another five guards around the waist-deep water and another two by the doors upstairs. 

There's a childlike self-assuredness about him—this kid. He thinks he's protected, safe, almighty as God. He sings about Joel and smiles. 

A guard leans over him and sneers. “You need to stop drinking.”

“Are you scared of the fucking boogeyman?” jeers the kid. “I’m not! Hijo de puta.”

The guard plucks the bottle from his hand and passes it off. “You wanna vomit while you run away? Or would you just prefer to get shot in the head?”

Emiliano’s haughty sniff makes Joel wonder if a bullet in the head is retribution enough. “Get me another fucking bottle!” he says to his friend. 

Joel picks up a bottle of complimentary cologne and tosses it. The glass shatters, potent liquid pooling on the shiny floor. Three guards flank the partition. The music is too loud to let the sounds of his blade in flesh seep through. 

Six. 

On the other side of the glass, coloured blue and red and slick with humidity, the singing continues. 

From the swamp he will come…

He feels the wet splash of blood on his face. 

… and take the children that don't behave. 

Another man rounds the corner as Joel is tearing the knife from the last guard’s throat. He doesn't have enough time to slash his throat, so he pulls the handgun from his holster and shoots. He crumples to the floor, but Joel’s cover is blown. 

“He’s here! Miller’s here!”

The partition explodes. Glass rains on him as he rolls to evade the gunfire, raising his barrel to strike at the remaining guards. 

Seven. Eight. 

The men by the stairs are shouting some Spanish, some Italian. The music carries on, but the song they're singing has ended. 

Joel finds the man he's been looking for: hiding behind a petrified waitress, Emiliano Cabrera looks like a goddamn child. He's wrapped himself hastily in a bath towel around his waist, and his eyes are wide as saucers. Yeah, Joel thinks, I’m going to enjoy this a little. 

He locks eyes with Emiliano for only a moment. The guards at the top of the stairs begin to fire at Joel. He ducks behind the wall as shots chip brick from the wall or plunk uselessly in the water. By the time he flanks them around the other side of the wall and brings them tumbling down the stairs—ten—the kid has already run. Joel growls at the loss of the kill and follows him into the club. 

With an eruption of deafening music, Joel bursts into the crowd. Behind him, a gigantic LED screen is illuminated with spirals in red and blue and white. Women dance in elevated cages while the crowd below becomes a sea of skin and sequins and sweat. Joel reloads, checks the clip, and resumes his hunt. 

Eleven, twelve, thirteen. Joel feels the punch of the barrel into their chests as he fires, again and again and again. The commotion is lost in the din of the music and dancing. Bodies connect and grind and Joel kills. 

Fourteen. A guard by the wall. Fifteen. Another lurking by the LED spirals. Sixteen, seventeen—two men rushing him in an attempt to ambush, eyes wild with rage and a bit of fear. Joel puts them down like sick dogs and continues to push through the crowd, his eyes locked on the retreating Emiliano, who's waving a gun about like a white flag. 

But it's no surrender. It's a beacon, a sign that the deer is spooked. Joel feels his lip curl. So frightened, he thinks. 

Eighteen, nineteen…

Your bleary eyes, blinking through the pain, limbs limp and helpless as he unbuckled his belt above you. A cut on your face, barely bleeding. The red still consumes him. 

You were so afraid that night. 

Twenty. 

Twenty-one. 

He's getting closer. The crowd parts down the centre as Joel marches toward his goal. But the music is loud and he does not hear the approach from behind. 

The gunshot grazes his shoulder, but he feels the flare of pain ooze its way down his arm. Joel grunts, knocked askew from his path, and turns to forge at his assailant. 

The man is fast, though, and rushes him. The tackle brings him down to the ground, winding him just enough to briefly stun, to send his Glock spinning along the floor. He’s taller, broader, madder. 

But he shoots one-handed. 

Joel knocks the gun aside and it misfires into the gap in the crowd. In the dispersing, he sees more guards closing in his periphery. The only protection he has is the hulking body on top of him. So Joel uses it, bringing his elbow to the man’s throat and bunching the lapel of his jacket in his fist. The guard attempts to reach for the blade in his thigh holster, but Joel reaches down and bends his arm backward until the crunch crackles in his ear. The man howls, and Joel grasps the hilt of the knife. 

Twenty-two. 

He picks up his gun and fires a shot into each of the three approaching guards, but Emiliano has fled to the first floor. Joel grimaces as he stands, blood on his fingertips where he's prodded the wound in his arm. “Goddammit,” he mutters, following his target upstairs. 

The air is dizzying. Hot. Joel never liked clubs. He hated the closeness and the bodies in cages and the way skin felt so sticky, too tight, like he needed to step outside of it. He hated the feeling of being suffocated by strangers, as if any of them could be lurking low in the darkness, waiting to strike. 

He didn't understand the lure of the scantily-clad body until he saw you wrapped in a tight black dress. He didn't know the pleasure of dancing until you took his hand one night, his old vinyl player crackling out Frank Sinatra, and lay your head on his shoulder. It felt like stepping over the threshold into consecrated territory. He should not be touching you. But you were touching him. 

Joel spots Emiliano running for the back entrance, shoving another guard in Joel’s path. 

Twenty-six. 

The final man, approaching Joel from the lounge, pulls his gun in time to shoot, but not in time for Joel to notice. The bullet shatters a glass of wine and topples a waiter’s tray. Joel fires. 

One to go. 

He has no choice but to lunge for the kid before he can run out into the street. Joel’s heart is pounding in his chest, his blood electrified. The take-down is sloppy and his ankle rolls, but Emiliano Cabrera is pinned beneath him and yelping like a kicked dog. 

“My father will kill you,” he gasps, his cheek pressed to the floor.

“Your father knows exactly why I’m here,” says Joel, “and he knows how stupid you are.”

“Hijo de puta, it was just a fucking car,” he spits. “I was just going to have some fun with your bitch. I would've given her back.”

Joel isn't quite satisfied. He turns the kid onto his back and grasps him by the jaw, forcing him to meet Joel’s incendiary gaze. 

“Everything has a price.”

The knife goes in smoothly, the flat of the blade glinting in his gaping mouth. No light flees his eyes. There is nothing but cold slate-grey. And although Joel feels no happiness feeling the pulse slow to a crawl beneath his palm, he does not pull the knife out. 

Your body, sacred, helpless, lying on the floor. A predator’s gaze. The clink of a belt buckle. Joel steps over the body and leaves, limping to the valet and slipping him a golden coin. He slips back inside his Mustang, turns on the engine, and drives back to the hotel. 

You’re tucked in the alcove by the window, staring out at the moonlit night. Your chin rests on your knees as you hug yourself close. The lamp between your respective beds colours the room orange. 

“You’re limping.” 

You haven’t even turned to face him.

“How—”

“I know how you sound when you walk.” Your temple is cool where it rests on the windowpane, your breath frosting the glass. Joel staggers to the small table and braces himself on the back of a chair as he watches you. 

You’re as warm and bright as the day he found you that night in the restaurant. Your eyes may be a little older, but the glow is the same. He folds his bleeding hands around the back of the chair. Everything around you curls in, darkens, and wilts when it confronts your beauty. 

“I’m all right.” He doesn’t deserve your concern. He’ll swallow any bullet to keep you from worrying.

You stand at last and cross the room to face him. His heart jumps like it’s the first time you asked him on a date. Like the first time he kissed you, his chest taut with tension and nerves and the assumption that you’d reject him. 

“You can lie to me about lots of things, Joel, but I know this face.” The pad of your thumb ghosts over the crease between his brows. “I’ve painted it a hundred times. It doesn't lie.”

It's the first time you've touched him in days. Joel closes his eyes. Part of him, the part that jolts back to life under the tender weight of your soft skin, means it when he says, “I’m okay.”

You seem to ponder him for a moment. “This wouldn't be the first time I patched you up,” you say, as if resigned. “Go on. Bathroom.”

He winces. “You don't have to—”

“Go. And afterward, you can tell me everything.”

The pads of your fingers memorise the ridges on the gold coin. The time is close to dawn. 

He’s no longer bleeding, and although you have nothing close to the Doctor’s prowess, you’ve managed to disinfect and wrap the wound in his arm. You can’t do anything about his ankle, but it’s a sprain; he’ll heal in time. The mangled black and blue on his tender skin reminds you of a night sky without the stars. It doesn’t seem to pain him. It only makes you wonder what sorts of agonies he’s faced—ones you never knew about.

The hurt has festered in your time away from him. He’s an open wound in the shape of a hand on your back, searing cold through to your heart. The hand sports a golden band, and it reflects in the one you still wear. You don't quite know what to make of it now. 

He looks exactly like the man you knew. Not a part of him has changed—he's still scruffy, still tired, still jaggedly gorgeous. You paint him with blurred edges, with blues and greys. Your heart still pulls when you look at him. Your chest still gapes wide open, and he digs his thumbs into the bruises. He lied to you. He broke your trust. And there's still so much of your Joel in him, from the skin to the bones. 

“It’s beautiful,” you muse, turning the coin over. 

“Technically, it’s not money,” Joel says. “It is currency. They can be exchanged for favours, information, relationships.”

“A hotel room,” you add. “Good to know I don’t have to move any savings around. Where have you been keeping these?”

“There’s a safe in the basement,” he says, “under the floorboards. When I left, I buried all of it. Weapons, coins, contacts, anything I had from the Underworld.”

The Underworld. A fitting name, if you’ve made any sense of it at all. “Do the police know about all of this?”

“Most of them are in the pockets of High Table members. Those are the ones who control how it all works. Rules and consequences,” says Joel, “is how they operate. They're what separate us from the animals.”

You lift your brows. “And who sits at this High Table?”

“Twelve leaders. They're the ones who run most of the major crime families and organisations. They control police, politicians, banks—”

Your shuddering sigh makes him stop in his tracks. He watches you lean back in the chair and bends forward slightly, as if tied to you by an invisible thread. 

“So… the girl who serves me coffee on the corner by my office could be part of it.” You frown at the coin in your hand. “She could be a witness, a runner, a messenger. She could be like you.”

“She isn't,” says Joel, “but that is the general idea.”

“But civilians are immune.”

“More or less,” says Joel. “There are… heavy penalties for harming them.”

“Penalties like death.”

“Most of the time,” he says. “And there are rules here, too. No business can be conducted on the grounds of any Continental hotel.”

“Any? You mean—”

“There's a Continental in every major city in the world. It's where we go to remind ourselves we’re civilised.”

“Civilised,” you scoff. “Civilised murder, sure. I’m buying it. And now that you’re back—”

“Visiting.”

You just glare at him, and he ducks his head. 

“—there's a contract on your head.”

Joel nods. “Two million.”

You curl your fingers over the coin in your palm as your stomach bottoms out. “That's a lot of incentive to put a bullet in your brain.”

“They won't,” he says. “Cabrera holds the contract, and he only opened it because of Emiliano. He’d pull it the second I agreed to stop looking for his son. He doesn't want me owing him.”

“I don't know if I’d call that a debt.”

“Considering everything I did for him,” says Joel, a bite to his voice, “anything short of killin' his kid is a favour.”

Despite yourself, you open your hand and slide the coin toward him. “Tell me what you did.”

His head shoots up, his brows knitted together. “What?”

“Tell me what you did to get out. Tell me about this ‘impossible task.’”

“Baby, that’s…” He rubs his hand across his jaw, and it strikes you then how deep those half-circles colour the space beneath his eyes. 

“Stop,” you whisper. It never used to hurt when he called you baby. “Tell me how much blood you thought I was worth.”

Joel’s jaw ticks. His knees barely touch yours under the table. “You don't wanna hear the answer to that.”

“Then start here. What did you do, Joel?”

The sigh he releases feels heavy. “I came to Cabrera, asking him to release me from my contract. He told me he'd let me out, no strings attached… if I hunted down his enemies.” 

Your mouth drops. “Which enemies?”

He picks up the coin and turns it over in his palm. The silence drops an anchor on the ground. Your belly churns with the movement of the golden piece as it catches the light. 

“All of them,” says Joel. “All of ‘em, in one night. That was his impossible task.”

The scrape of your chair legs across the floor is grating. But you stand anyway, your head vaguely stirring with the beginnings of a headache. 

“Oh my God.” 

You barely feel your own hand on your cheek, barely smell the iron tang of blood on him, barely see the red cutting through his pressed white shirt. “How many people?”

Joel shakes his head, his shy eyes lowered, still as the paintings you've made of him. “I… I don't know.” 

I lost count, he means. There were too many, he means. 

Your throat is just wide enough to let your breath escape. The air you take in feels poisonous. He killed every single one of them. All because he wanted to marry you. 

All because he wanted peace. 

“Is there anyone in the Underworld who doesn’t know your name?”

Joel’s repentant silence, head ducked as if in prayer, is all the answer you need.

“How did this happen?” Your voice is uniquely quiet. 

“When I was a kid,” he says, and your heart sinks, “I lived on the streets. Lived like a rat, mostly, but I survived. You know that much.”

You nod solemnly, lowering yourself into the chair once more. “The Sisters reunited you with your brother.”

His dark eyes reflect the lamplight and it resembles a flame igniting in the depths of the iris. “Found me on Canal Street, runnin’ drugs for a mobster I don't even remember. Tommy was only five, but he must've told them about me. They took me to the orphanage and started my training.”

You swallow, your temples pounding. Deep in your gut, something wild and dry begins to kindle. “They were the ones who taught you all of this?”

“They teach the word of God above everythin’ else, but yeah. They train children to thrive in the Underworld. We were taught knives, guns, hand-to-hand. Hell, they even taught us how to dance—how to move faster than the opponent. I knew how to kill someone before I could read.” Joel chuckles, and part of you thinks he actually thinks it's funny. “Probably why I’m so slow.”

You aren't slow, you want to say. You've never been slow, not from the first day. 

The kindling curls and you can feel your mouth pull at the corners. He had only been a child. An orphan. A child had no way to choose, to resist how they were raised. He hadn’t been given a choice—his life in exchange for a roof over his head. 

“Those fucking bastards.”

Joel’s laugh is mirthless. “It was a long time ago. I’ve made my peace with it.”

You angrily swipe the tears that warm your cheeks. “No adult should have that power. They should nurture and comfort and protect, not—” Your breath hitches. “You were a child. You didn't deserve that.”

Your fingers have curled into a fist atop the table. With both hands, he gently lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses your knuckles. You expect it to feel foreign, wrong. It just feels like Joel. 

“The Sisters were cruel,” he says softly. “But I made myself into a weapon. It was the only way I would survive.” He reaches out as if for a wounded deer and brushes his thumb over your jaw. “They never made me believe, sweetheart. That was all you.”

You sniffle, your head bobbing absently. You don't know what to think. You don't know how to feel. Your own husband has been through the seven circles and crawled back out only to teeter back over the pit once more. There’s an ancient weariness in the black of his eyes, an old hurt, a mansion slowly crumbling at the edges. 

“You hid this all from me, and never told anyone,” you say, the ache widening. You find you want to assume, consume, even a modicum of the pain that he's felt. 

One of his shoulders lifts in a mild shrug. “I wanted to forget all of it. I wanted to make something of the new life I’d killed for.” He meets your gaze and you swear part of the open wound in his pupils has sealed. “I didn't want any of it to touch you.”

And you remember lying in bed with him that first night, after that first time, tracing a scar on his back. White and ridged, it spread like lightning feelers from the middle of his spine to the dimples in his lower back. 

You'd put your mouth to his shoulder blade and felt him melt into you. 

What happened? 

The silence that followed could have heard the brush of a feather over skin. 

I was raised in an orphanage. In a church. They weren't kind. 

And that was that. You'd prodded and fussed and he'd said I’m fine. It was a long time ago. 

“But that's what you do, Joel,” you tell him. “You hide your hurt and you bury your feelings and you do it all because you're afraid it'll make everyone leave you.” 

Sometimes he would wake in a cold sweat, heaving, tossing aside the sheets, but he would never make a sound. You'd see him, pretending to sleep, and place your hand over his chest. His fingers would grasp yours as if marooned on the water, seeking driftwood, his hand suffocating yours. He'd keep it pressed to his heart until the beats slowed. 

You regret those times you never pressed. In a way, you were afraid, too. If you opened your eyes, if you asked him to confess, he would close the lattice and turn his back to you. You didn't want to lose him, either. 

But you did. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, but it doesn't hold the weight you want it to. It doesn't blow out the candles in the cathedral. It doesn't pluck the scared little boy from the streets or give him a warm bed. It doesn't stop the beatings and the lashings and the pain. 

It does not pry the pain from his heart and bury the shrapnel in your chest instead. It is something he bears, as he always has, and must. It is something you cannot take from him. And you feel more helpless than you ever have. 

He shakes his head. “I know we can't go back,” he says, tracing one of the little daisy charms on your bracelet. “But it feels… good. It feels good to finally tell you. Even if we were too late.”

The sound of his voice breaking shakes your heart loose from your rib cage. 

“Come to bed.” Your voice is raw and used. “Just… come to bed, and sleep.” 

He doesn't dare look hopeful, though you can see the tremor that courses through his hand. He wants to take yours, the way he did the day he proposed, dropping to one knee with your palms flush. 

He looked a little hopeful that day, too. With rapt attention, he'd taken hold of you and said, I love you. I love you more than anything. You’re my best friend. Will you marry me? Will you let me be your husband?

You realise now why he'd let himself hope. He'd gotten out. He'd started his new life. With you. 

You can see his old scars, even in the dark. You think, in all your time together, you've learned his body as you learn the earth you tread upon. The praying hands of Dürer lie beneath the name inked in small black lettering. 

Your name. 

You gingerly reach out and place your hand on his back. Joel shudders. He does not turn to face you where you both lie on your sides. 

“If you bleed on the bed sheets,” you say to the darkness, “will management make us pay?”

He chuckles. “Strongly worded phone call at best. I’ll take the hit.”

You frown, ghosting your fingers over the tender skin around the makeshift patch job on his shoulder. “Does it still hurt?” 

“No,” he says, leaning into your touch, “not anymore.”

“You never told me about this scar on your back.” You touch the edges of the puckered skin. “I never stopped wondering. But I should never have stopped asking.”

“Don't,” he says quietly. “Don’t say any of that like it's your fault.”

The silence bleeds as viscous as an open gash into the dry air. His watch broke the day of your wedding. He told you it was all right, that we've got all the time in the world, and you'd kissed him and laughed. He’d replaced the battery since then, but sometimes the little hand lags behind, as if afraid to chug forward. Afraid to let time, of all silly, trivial things, consume your world. 

“Do you remember your vows?” you ask him. 

“‘Course I do.” 

“Do you remember mine?”

His head bows slightly on the pillow. “‘I vow to be your partner in all things,’” he recites. “‘I vow to protect your heart like it's my own. I vow to take your pain, and to shoulder it so you don't have to.’” 

The tears saturate the pillowcase beneath your cheek. You fall asleep with your arm around his waist, your hand next to his, not touching, but nearly. 

#fic: helen #kiwisbell's fics #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us hbo #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller au #joel miller fic #john wick au #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader

[iluvpjo]

HII !!

HEAR ME OUT. Charlie is definitely a thigh guy,he loveeeees to just lay on ur thighs and kiss them and theyre js so squishy and UGH.

I think he'd be very sweet in general like if you had scars (Sh or just normal scars) he's definitely kiss them and tell you how beautiful they are

REMEMBER TO EAT ENOUGH AND STAY HYDRATED !! 🫂

-🌻

𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓰𝓱 𝓖𝓾𝔂

Synopsis: Charlie being a thigh guy, basically headcanons but also not rlly ??? Idk what this is tbh

Warning(s): IT GETS NSFW! MDNI, thigh stuff, talks abt scars, talks abt sh (in its own seperate bit so ur able to avoid it, I’ll put a warning there)

Pairing: Charlie Bushnell x fem reader (could be seen as GN except for one part where he calls u a sweet girl but you can just imagine otherwise if u wish!)

Word count: 528 words

Notes: I tried to write this n tumblr closed on me n didn’t save my draft ARGH 😭 but I’m so sorry I been away for a moment.. on an unrelated note last night I dreamt abt cuddling w Charlie n omfg

ALSO I’m so sorry it’s a lil short ahhh

Come find me on AO3!

Send me a request! Here’s my req rules!

(NSFW-ish!) Charlie whenever he sits beside you will always have a hand on you wether it be on your shoulder or on your knee, or other times where he’ll be squishing you’re thigh under the table in public somewhere. He of course does this at home too, and occasionally if he feels like it sometimes his hand will wander upwards. He still likes to do it nonsexually though, squeezing softly whenever he wants your attention.

(NSFW!) He would love to kiss your thighs while laying between your legs, often using it to tease you and not touch you where you need it the most. He also gets a little distracted, the feeling of your warm cushy thighs near his face can easily make him lose time. Charlie will kiss softly at your thighs, but he will also nip them gently too between his teeth just to watch you yelp and whine.

He would definitely get super hard from eating you out, I mean just in general, but especially when you cum undone and you squeeze your thighs around his head. Fuckkk he’d be in heaven, and he’d let you know that too when he dives back in for round two and has you repeating the same actions over and over. He will do it until you tell him to calm down, but if you don’t then I’m sure he’d be going on forever and ever until something inevitably disrupts the two of you.

(Scar stuff, more specifically sh) If he noticed you had scars on your thighs he wouldn’t be quick to point them out, maybe he’d spend a little extra time kissing over the marks or trailing them gently with his finger tips if they were healed. If they weren’t healed fully though maybe he’d ask about them, cooing softly for you to talk to him about what happened to make you do it. He’d leave it if you didn’t wanna talk about it though, simply comforting you with gentle kisses and cuddles.

“Don’t look at them..” You’d say, perhaps being a little insecure about them when his eyes would linger a little too long on your thighs, and Charlie would smile up at you dumbly before placing soft pecks to them and saying “Why not? Your thighs are so beautiful.” And you’d grow a little flustered. “No, they’re not, my scars-“ he wouldn’t even let you finish the thought about them, because he’d butt in and say “Your scars are beautiful sweet girl, I ‘dunno what you’re talking about..” and then his voice would get muffled n a lil quieter as he gets lost in the feeling of ur soft plushy thighs and he keeps leaving kisses all over them, his hands gripping at them like they’re his favourite thing in the world (and they are, after you as a whole of course.)

#luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader smut #percy jackson smut #percy jackson x reader smut #charlie bushnell x reader #charlie bushnell x reader smut #charlie bushnell x you #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #charlie bushnell #🌷 anon

[chvoswxtch]

hi um so this is like my first time making a request, like ever. I’m not even sure if this is where I’m supposed to put a request. So I’m really nervous but this idea has been in my head for weeks and I need it to be brought to life? Idk but can I request Matt Murdock with a sort of shy reader? Where he tells her about his abilities and daredevil and everything (established relationship) and she doesn’t really care as long as he’s safe but she has something in her mind and he notices and keeps asking and basically she has a question about his senses, specifically his taste and idk if you know but Matt can canonically know ALL of the ingredients of anything just from a taste and she basically wants to make him taste a bunch of stuff and tell her the ingredients of it so she can make them? I know this is probably WAY too specific so feel free to completely ignore this, I just wanted to get it out.

hi my darling!

so I actually read this request right before going to the grocery store, and while I was looking through produce, it made me think about how matt would absolutely know which produce was the freshest and which ones to avoid. I kinda mixed that in with your idea about being able to tell exactly what ingredients were in something, and I hope this is close to what you were looking for! <3

warnings: tooth rotting fluff and matt being a lil shit word count: 1.3k

lemons.

“Not that one.”

You hand instantly stilled over a lemon that your fingertips had already grazed over. Glancing at Matt over your shoulder, a crease formed between your brows while you looked back down at it.

“What do you mean? This one is perfect-”

“It’s not ripe enough.”

“But…it’s so yellow, like sunshine yellow.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Matt’s lips when he felt the way your own pursed into a bit of a confused pout. It was something you always did when you were intensely focused on something, and he found it endearing. Reaching his hand out, he used the pad of his thumb to smooth away the furrow that had creased in the middle of your forehead, and his soft smile curled up into a light smirk catching the flush of heat that immediately coursed through the tops of your cheeks.

“Well, I’m sure it’s a very pretty lemon, but it doesn’t taste ripe.”

Ever since Matt had told you the truth about his vigilante identity and his abilities, you’d had countless questions. You wouldn’t voice them at first, almost as if you were afraid to cross some invisible boundary that Matt might have, but he knew you, and he knew how to dismantle that shy exterior of yours. From the moment the two of you first met, you had been overly polite and accommodating about his disability, but not in a way that made him uncomfortable. You didn’t walk on eggshells around him or call any extra attention to his blindness. In fact, the way you interacted with him was so seamless, it was almost like it came second nature.

If you guys were grabbing coffee with Karen and Foggy, you would automatically place the raw sugar packets within his reach because you knew he preferred it to the artificial sweeteners. If the four of you went to check out a new lunch spot, you always called ahead to check if they had a menu in braille and made sure Matt was given one. There were so many little things you did to make him feel included and normal. It was part of why he fell so hard for you.

You never asked about the origin of his blindness, and even after he opened up and told you about his accident, you were reserved with your questions. He could tell you were curious, and he wanted you to ask. He wanted you to know things about him. You were a bit of a wallflower, and Matt could always feel you silently observing him, but he wanted you to understand him. He quickly realized he would have to flat out grant you permission to be nosey, and so he did.

Out of everyone he had revealed his Daredevil secret to, you had taken it the best. He didn’t know if he would ever get over the surprise of just how well you handled it. You didn’t get angry or yell at him. You didn’t call him a liar or a traitor, or ask him if he was faking his blindness; all reactions he expected. You just sat there in pure confusion, and you were silent for so long, Matt was panicked that he’d sent you into a state of shock. When it finally settled in that it wasn’t a joke, your brows knit together, and Matt could feel the way your face contorted into an expression of irritation when you flat out asked him if he was crazy. The memory of that night never failed to make him smile.

“Um…well, I mean…not in the traditional sense-”

“Matthew, what the hell are you thinking running around on rooftops, going after guys with guns and knives with…sticks? How do you even do that?”

“They’re batons, actually. Look it’s hard to explain, but I have heightened senses that help me-”

“Are those super senses going to keep you out of prison? Because that’s where you’re going if you get caught. What was the point of going hundreds of thousands of dollars into debt for law school if you were just going to wind up a prison cell for doing backflips off buildings in your underwear?”

“Heightened senses. And it’s not underwear. Underwear is comfortable.”

There hadn’t been a hint of anger in your voice. Annoyance, sure, but mainly concern. All you wanted was for Matt to be safe, and he did his best to assure you that he would be. Matt went into as much detail as he could to help you understand his abilities, and the more comfortable you got with asking him things, the more you learned.

Like how he could tell exactly what ingredients were in the lemon bread at the cafe down the street from your apartment that you loved so much, which was currently the reason behind your little trip to the store at the moment. All it took was one bite of the bread, and he knew exactly how to replicate it.

Apparently he could also tell when lemons were at their peak.

Reaching into the pile of lemons, Matt grasped the one that was in perfect condition to him and held it out towards you. Taking the lemon in your hand, you gave it a light squeeze, noticing that it was firm to the touch but easily gave into the gentle force of your fingers testing its density. 

“Feel the rind.”

Following Matt’s instructions, you brushed your thumb along the bright yellow rind. It was smooth to the touch, and somewhat glossy as it nearly reflected the brightness of the overhead lighting in the grocery store. 

“It’s shiny.”

Matt chuckled at your response and lightly nodded his chin in your direction.

“What else?”

“It’s smooth.”

“It’s perfectly ripe. The zest on this one is the freshest. It has the most flavor, and the right amount of juice.”

Arching one of your brows, you stared up at Matt curiously while still faintly squeezing the lemon in your hand.

“You can tell how much juice is in this just by touching it?”

A grin stretched across Matt’s lips, showcasing his dazzling teeth and causing indents to appear in his cheeks. His thick brows rose slightly above the rim of his crimson glasses.

“Are you doubting me, sweetheart?”

“No I’m just…still trying to figure out how you do…what you do.”

A bashful twinge of heat coated your cheeks once again, and Matt thought it was adorable that you diverted your attention back to the lemon shyly to avoid his gaze even though he couldn’t see your reaction. He reached out to tenderly brush his knuckles along the warmth in your cheeks while he smiled in your direction. 

“I’ll try to do better at explaining. Now c’mon, we have more ingredients to get. You know, I think this bread is gonna turn out so well, the one at the cafe might not meet your standards anymore.”

The confidence in Matt’s voice caught your attention, and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips. Sometimes you forgot that your boyfriend was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen that everyone was so afraid of. If only they knew that he spent his Saturdays sniffing out ingredients at the grocery store like a bloodhound to help his girlfriend recreate the recipe for her favorite lemon bread.

“You know, if you didn’t love law so much, you could’ve made out like a bandit in a baking competition.”

“Oh I would’ve won with my sob story of being a blind little Catholic orphan alone.”

“Matthew!”

Matt snickered at the disbelief in your tone, but he could also detect the way the edges of your lips twitched, like you weren’t sure if you should laugh at that or not. Snaking his arm around your waist, he pressed a light kiss to your forehead and gently nudged you in the direction towards the spice aisle.

“Come on, we need flour.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover  @avengerstower-houseplant @mars-rants-a-lot @topperthornton @hailey-murdock @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts

#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock request #daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil request

[marymary-diva17]

I have a little request. Ronal/Tonowari x Warrior Reader. The Reader is very standoffish like always serious never smiling, always standing gaurd, a serious face all the time and when the Sully’s arrive they are more worried about the reader because the reader has great tales of being a great warrior and they feel intimidated by them almost. How tall they are and how strong they are but also by the fact that they always seem to just be in warrior mode until The Sullys see the reader interacting with the younger kids of the clan seeing how gentle they are and how the reader interacts with the kids (Tsireya, Rotxo and Ao’nung). Being very so soft and gentle with them and being shocked when they realize that the reader is just a huge softie to the clan.

Ronal and Tonowari are my comfort pairing idk I just love them. I would greatly appreciate if you could do this. You have amazing writing.

The sully family had arrived at metkayian seeking refuge with anyone else that could take with them. When they arrived there they soon realized that life on the reef was far different and similar to life in the forest. There were many thing that got the newcomers attention when it came to the people and everything around them. These things made them feel many emotions, as they are trying to understand everything that was going on right now for them. One of these things was a specific someone that had drawn everyone attention.

Y/n " ummm" you are walking on the beach holding a spear in your hands, you were doing some fishing for your family when you had noticed something far away. It was a herd of ikrans and they were coming towards the village.

y/n " It look like we are going to have some guests" soon the horn had blown getting the whole village attention, as everyone race to see who had come to their village today.

y/n "well it seems like some change is coming" soon the newcomers and landed on the beach, and soon made their way toward you and the rest of the clan.

Jake " hello we mean you no harm"

y/n " hello" the group had noticed you standing there holding your spear, you seem like a warrior and healer but soon their attention was stolen away when tonowari showed up. Tonowari had given you a lovely glance as he made his way towards the group.

tonowari " Jake sully welcome to our village but may I ask why have you come here"

Jake " hello tonowari" soon ronal had made herself know as well as she was looking at the new arrivals, and soon at you giving you a smile.

Jake " we came here seeking uturu for my family and everyone else with us"

ronal " uturu"

tonowari " we have heard about your war and want nothings to do with it"

Jake " we are done with war we just need some help at the moment"

????? " we should help them they are brothers and sisters like us" everyone was soon looking at you as you stood there, the clan had made way for you.

y/n " we should help them out we all have head the stories of them winning the battle against the sky people, and keep on fighting after great lost we should lead them help" tonowari and ronal soon looked at each other and then look at you. You are standing near your kids looking at them, your youngest daughter grabbed your hand.

tonowari " it seems like my mate has spoken on your clan behave so we will allow you to stay"

ronal " we will see if you can be like one of us"

many days later

Y/n " ........" you are standing on a rock doing some spear throwing practice, It had been a few days since the sully family had arrived here. The sully family and their company had been told many stoires of you being a great warrior, which made them feel very intimidated about you and some of them even fear you as well.

????? " mama" you were about to toss a spear when you heard someone calling you, you soon looked up to see your daughter coming running towards you.

y/n " Aara my daughter" aura soon ran into you and hugged you once she reach you, but that when you realized she was not alone she had tuk. The youngest of the sully family the girl was standing behind you daughter.

aara " hey mama this is my new friend tuk"

tuk " hello you are very beautiful"

y/n " thank you sweetie so what are you two doing over here"

aara " I was wondering if you cna take us to the tide pools we want to explore there and have some fun, but we need someone with us"

y/n " sure honey I can take you and tuk come on girls" the two girls soon smile as they follow behind you, as you take them to the tide pool. The girls soon started playing around in the pool and swimming in the ocean near by, you were showing them some amazing stuff as well.

tuk and aara " hahah" the two girls were laughing as you showed them a fun away to spoke puffer fishes making the girls laugh,

y/n " I had learned that way when I was your age and your baba spooked one, we laughed for hours about it"

aara " really baba did that"

y/n " yes" some otters had came by getting the girls attention, as the girls had started playing with the creatures or petting them as well.

y/n " it seems like you girls are having a good time" the girls had nodded their heads as they were enjoying the time with the otters, but you soon had brought them back to shore.

tuk " aara I didn't know your mama could be so fun"

aara " see I told you she can be fun"

y/n " what do you girls means"

tuk " well my family and clan think you are very scary a bit and serious, when we first meet you and we heard all these amazing tales about you"

aara " those tales are true my mama has been on man adventures and seen many things as well"

tuk " really"

y/n " yes if you wish I can tell you many of my tales that haven't been told before"

tuk " yes please"

???? " can we hear some stories as well" You soon looked up to see your older kids and the older sully kids, and other kids with them. You had nodded their head and let them join the circle as you told some of your tales.

later on that day

neytiri " kids kids ... where could they be"

Jake " neytiri what the matter"

neytiri " ma Jake are the kids and spider with you I can't find them and dinner will be soon"

tonowari " i thought they might of return by now"

Jake " where could they have gone"

ronal " tonowair there you are have you seen the children they haven't come home"

tonowari " it seems like our kids are missing as well like your Jake sully"

Jake " where could they have gone this time tuk said her and aara were going to play somewhere new today"

ronal " we should get y/n she can help us she might know where they are" Jake and neytiri had heard many tales about you and you might scare them, as you seem like a fearsome warrior they soon went looking for you along with tsutey who was looking for spider. They soon heard laughter of children.

Jake " I think those are our kids" they adults soon followed the sound and saw you sitting with the kids telling them stoires.

y/n " it had taken days to get the ink out of everyone hair after that day... oh we are such foolish teens back then"

rotxo " that funny mama"

y/n " yes it was but it was messy situation afterwards"

ronal " there you all are" the kids and you soon stopped laughing and soon looked and saw your mates staring there with, Jake and his mate along with tsutey.

tuk " hey mama and daddy y/n told us stoires and took me and Sara to play today"

neytiri " oh that wonderful"

aara " mama was telling us all these wonderful stoires baba"

tonowari " that wonderful my daughter" Jake along with neytiri and tsutey were soon able to see you, were not that scary as they had thought. They were able to see the gentle side of the warrior they had heard might tales about and finally understand her as well.

tonowari " some of your mother stories might be made up"

y/n " oh that what you think my love will you kids like to hear the story of tonowari ...." tonowari soon covered your mouth and looked at you.

tonowari " no please no there are many stories you might be thinking of but please no" you soon remove his hand and look at him and kiss his check while laughing. Tonowari soon rolled his eyes and laughed as well, the families had soon went home, after a good time of story telling and getting to know each other as well.

#avatar #avatar 2 #atwow #avatar x reader #avatar x y/n #avatar the way of water #tonowari x reader x ronal #tonowari #tonowari x reader #tonowari x you #tonowari x ronal #ronal x y/n #ronal x reader #ronal x tonowari #ronal x you #tonowari x y/n #avatar fanfiction #avatar 2022

[kitashousewife]

hii idk if I missed it but did u ever expand on the sakusa perfume ad thought 👀

YES please let me do so (sorry this is so late)

—————

“yes, that’s perfect. right here,” the photographer snaps another shot, clicking sounds echoing through the small set as sakusa lets out an exhale.

really he’s not sure why he agreed to this. some new perfume line contacted the team a few months back, talking about some sort of collaboration to boost each others popularity. a few phone calls later and now, most of the teammates have had their turn behind the camera.

sakusa was last. he really didn’t want to. he was flattered, a little flustered that they thought he would be good for a perfume ad. he’s seen them this whole life, casting movie stars and other famous athletes. the mere fact that he’s now at that level is mind blowing enough.

but now that he sits here, uncomfortably warm and sick of the attention, he’s thinking maybe it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

until you call him.

you’re in your local grocery store, picking up things for the week after work. thoroughly worn out, you grab a magazine from the racks while in the check out line to pass the time. your fingers flip through aimlessly, completely unaware of the contents of the glossy pages, until you are.

staring back at you is sakusa kiyoomi. head rested in his palm, in a partially unbuttoned black silk shirt, with a bottle of cologne to his lips.

you almost shut the magazine. your body feels warm, your head spins. almost ripping it open again, you stare right back at the photo. his jaw is sharp, and his milky skin glistens behind the shiny bottle. and his eyes, they feel like he’s staring right at you. before you can think twice you’re shoving the tabloid onto the belt, and begin to try to catch your breath.

“hell-“

“kiyoomi,” your voice sounds apprehensive, strained even.

“what? i just got back from practice, i need to sh-“

“we’ve been friends for over ten years and you forgot to tell me that you were in a fucking cologne ad?”

sakusa about chokes before he slams the mute button on his phone. he completely forgot, he hadn’t even been told by the marketing team that the ads were out. he feels embarrassed, suddenly worried about everyone in the entire world seeing a completely different side of him than normal.

but he’s also curious.

part of him wished this would happen. while he was staring down the lens of the camera, the thought did cross his mind about how you specifically would react.

he can’t help but find out.

“it slipped my mind i guess, i’ve been busy,” he sets his phone on the kitchen counter. “kinda cool, huh?”

you don’t even know what to say. the most beautiful photo of the prettiest man you’ve ever met is in front of you, and his raspy voice is coming through your phone, making for an incredibly distracting combination.

“you look so irritated,” your voice is quiet. sakusa smirks, only slightly.

“i was. i was there for hours,” his smirk grows for a moment. “i think there’s going to be a short video ad, too.”

you rub your temples. your mind is blank. you’ve always thought sakusa was handsome, but not like this. your tongue feel heavy in your mouth, and you can’t stop staring.

“a-and what do you think of it? what did your mom say?”

sakusa shorts at the desperate conversation change attempt. “she had a fit, you know how she is.”

the thought of how could she not crosses your mind, and thankfully you don’t say it out loud.

“well, it’s really something. congrats, omi,”

sakusa smiles. “thanks,” he can hear you sigh on the other end. “everything okay over there?”

no. “y-yeah, yeah, just fine,” you shut the magazine and toss it onto the coffee table.

“staring at my picture?”

“n-no!” you’re quick, and sakusa laughs.

“miss me that much? jeez, want me to come sign it for you too?”

you pause. he laughs out loud. “shut up, omi,” you groan. “i’ll see you friday anyway, for motoya’s dinner,”

“okay, see you then.”

he hangs up, and he can’t help but snicker to himself. he can’t wait to see you on friday now. and, he even has the shirt from the shoot.

he decides he’s going to wear it, just for you.

#sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi sakusa #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #sakusa fluff #hq fluff #hq drabble #sakusa x reader fluff

[futurecorps3]

Hiii, could you write a nikokai fic where reader is like in love with kaz but he doesn't really pay attention to her. And then the crows meet sturmhond because of a heist and he takes interest in the reader form the first moment he sae her and makes her fall in love with him. And then whatever you want lol. Maybe kaz being jealous idk.

Sorry for any grammatical mistake, english it's not my first language.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞

Masterlist<3

Summary: After years of being in love with the one and only Kaz Brekker, breaking her own heart, Y/N meets someone else... Pairing: Sturmhond x fem!inferni!reader, Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Warnings: The usual crow violence, DRINKING, jealous Kaz, mean Kaz, "unrequited" love for a little while, Matthias is alive and well like in the books duh but this is ofc before Nikolai becomes king, idc I just want my Fjerdan hunk happy in Ketterdam, curse words, kind of a messy timeline. HURT AND NO COMFORT. Lmk if I missed any.

Word Count: 2.9K!! Requested: Yes

A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! :( I've been looking forward to getting to this specific request because oh my god, also, I changed it up a little; making Kaz actually be in love with reader but never really trying anything. Tysm for requesting love! Hope you enjoy :)

˚ · • . °

Exhaustion. That's what she felt, and to be honest, it was even more frustrating when Y/N knew she was doing it to herself. Those persistent yet futile attempts at reading Kaz's silence or gaze as something else; a love message, a confession of his sins, any sign of vulnerability reserved for her. However, these attempts, though fervent, ultimately proved fruitless.

How could she confirm what she thought she saw if, after, say, he appeared distressed at her being in danger or fumed when some dick was being extra disgusting at the bar that night; he went back to being his usual cold self?

When she finally obtained concrete evidence that disproved her misconceptions ("Jesper, she prefers black coffee" or "Y/N, could you join me in my office for a moment?" simply to spend time together in quietude), he strategically distanced himself throughout the week, transforming those precious moments of tranquility and companionship into ordinary occurrences, leading her to, somehow, misunderstand them.

Another shot of vodka and the pain her thoughts evoked was replaced by the burning, bitter sensation in her tongue and throat. "A hangover won't make Kaz let you stay behind tomorrow, you know that?" Matthias smiled next to her.

Since he joined the crows, the Fjerdan had taken a special liking to his girlfriend's best friend; she was funny, kind hearted and could keep up his pace in drinking games. Nina couldn't be happier to see her loves get along so well, saying it's her dream come true. "Oh don't even start, Matthias" Y/N answered, feigning annoyance as she poured more of the burning liquid into her glass and pulled out another for her friend.

They silently toasted to nothing in particular and chatted about their books as they usually did. Matthias' romance novel had an interesting love triangle Y/N was eager to read when he was finished. From how he talked about it, the girl knew it was just her type of story. They were in the middle of a playful argument about a plot-hole Y/N thought she found when Kaz approached them.

His usual demeanor seemed a bit... shaken. If you asked the blonde, he'd say he only looked more agitated, but Y/N/N knew better; his hair was covering his forehead slightly, but he wasn't brushing it back. The limp was prominent still, yet he wasn't using his cane. Kaz was in a rush to get to her, maybe?.

"One of your fellow countrymen is starting a turmoil outside, doesn't speak Kerch. Will you please, for the tree's sake, go and talk some sense into his thick blonde skull?" Saints, why did she like him so much? Even like that, Y/N thought he looked rather divine. Matthias stood up from his seat and directed himself to the entrance.

"Since when do you care for what happens outside that door?" She asked with a grin, genuinely curious. "I wouldn't if he wasn't scaring off the pigeons. No wealthy tourist will endure the trouble that some drunk Fjerdan means just to get inside a place full of people that'll take his money" the boy explained, looking down at her.

Kaz's complexion, kissed by the soft glow of the candles, is pale yet flawless, as if untouched by the harshness of the world he inhabits. His sharp, well-defined features give him an air of enigmatic sophistication, further heightened by the way the light dances upon his cheekbones, emphasizing their elegant structure.

Y/N realizes she's staring. She looks away.

The bastard smirks. "Finding something intriguing, are we?" And oh, she wanted to stab him to see if that would wipe the stupid grin he carried. "Oh, please, Kaz. You give yourself too much credit. I was merely lost in thought, contemplating the mysteries of the world. Your face happened to be in the line of sight, that's all."

Quick, sarcastic answer, as if the seconds between her silence confirmed even further what he was saying. He scoffed, drinking the remains of alcohol on Matthias' glass and fixed his hair in the process. "Stop drinking, a hangover won't spare you from our meeting tomorrow".

˚ · • . °

She should've listened. The crashing waves outside only intensified the discomfort, while the salty breeze seemed to carry a tinge of regret. Even the beauty of the sea she was now too used to felt distant and inaccessible, overshadowed by the haze of her post-indulgence remorse.

Nina, taunting Matthias with a mature Ravkan song and Jesper shooting bottles in the warehouse, created an uneasy atmosphere for hungover Y/N. This unsettling environment made it difficult for her to focus on evaluating any potential deals they were to discuss with the privateer Kaz said they were meeting that day. Also, they had been waiting for over an fifteen minutes now! She was surprised Kaz was waiting still.

He checked his pocket watch subtly, sighing at the tardiness of their Ravkan guests. Then, he looked over at Y/N. Even with those deep baggy eyes and with her head on her hands in exasperation, she managed to awaken that odd feeling in his chest. He hated it. No, he despised it.

If he ever accepted that he was down hard for the girl, he could also get over the fact that she, too, liked him. Well, he wasn't dumb! There was no denying that Y/N's actions warmed his heart. He just knew loving was a dangerous thing to do, a weakness he couldn't afford after spending years building a reputation in Ketterdam.

Then came a loud bang on the heave wooden doors of the warehouse. "Fucking finally" Y/N sighed, going to open the door herself before anyone would, wanting nothing but to end this as soon as possible so she could go back home to sleep. She grabbed the handle and pulled, the bright light outside blinding her momentarily before seeing the privateer and his crew.

"Hello gorgeous! Here to see Mr. Brekker. I'm guessing you're one of his associates?" A sharp, slightly deep voice greeted. The girl shielded her eyes from the light and found captain smily offering his hand out. In Ketterdam, rumours ran as quick as blood on pavement; Sturmhond knew that. He needed no introduction. Every person involved in not so legal activities who didn't live under a rock had heard at least once about the dog of the sea.

She took it, shaking gently. "Y/N Y/L/N, but if you prefer nicknames, call me Haepha". Then she stepped aside, pretending not to notice the smirk on Sturmhond's face so his partners could come in. The rumors hadn't done justice to his captivating presence.

The charismatic privateer stood tall, his dark hair falling in unruly waves that added to his allure. His piercing blue eyes seemed to hold a world of secrets, and a mischievous smile played across his lips. Dressed in opulent garments that exuded confidence and flair, Sturmhond commanded attention with every step as his crew and he approached the rest of the crows.

"I'll stick to your name for now doll, too pretty not to use," And the bastard winked at Y/N, making a Shu girl who was walking behind him with the same confidence giggle. The worst thing about pretty men is they know they're pretty, and knew damn well how to get away with being cocky. She knew his type, so she brushed the wink off and walked towards her friends.

Kaz and Sturmhond shook hands. Everyone who was fast enough grabbed a seat in old boxes or even on the floor. Jesper offered Y/N his seat, knowing that the vodka she drank last night was no merciful rival, and stood behind her alongside his boyfriend. Inej lingered sitting in a window near them as Matthias and Nina remained standing, contrary to all the privateers' team.

Kaz started making introductions, all a mere formality, Y/N knew. "You've met Y/N, our inferni. Behind him are Jesper, sharp-shooter, and Wylan, our demo-man. The blonde wall-resembling man over there is Matthias, and Nina is a heartrender. Inej in the window, our Wraith" he pointed, everyone nodding or waving at the dark-haired man.

"A Wraith alright, didn't notice you were there sweetheart!" He pointed out and then introduced the twins; Tolya and Tamar. As well as Anya and Andrei, who were two members of his ship's company who wanted to come by and see who they were working with. When that was taken care of, plans were strategized by both leaders and positions were given to each member.

Y/N knew Kaz was characterized by having plans from A to Z for very elaborate heists, but even this one seemed out of his reach, almost too ambitious. But if Sturmhond's name lived up to the myth, nothing was quite impossible for him and Kaz's love for money could get him to plot even the tiniest detail.

Their objective this time was to steal some kind of jewel called "the moon's tears". It was a gem said to be worth four million kruge, to be bargained for even more; the crows' biggest heist yet. The vault it was in was widely known for its impenetrable security measures, including seemingly impenetrable barriers, intricate lock mechanisms, and a team of highly skilled guards.

Those two were absolutely insane! Even before one considered the noble who owned the vault and therefore the gem they were trying to steal, knew Kaz from the past. It was an extremely peculiar coincidence that a masquerade ball was taking place some distance away from the location of the vault, which represented the perfect opportunity for the work.

This would allow them to exploit the lack of security and sweep the gem away. Nina would ideally take care of the distraction, to keep the nobleman from returning home too quick, but her heartrending abilities would be helpful to make a quick work to make the few officers guarding the vault doze off.

So it became Y/N's job. A job she was to complete with Sturmhond.

After the meeting ended and Y/N's headache had worsened, a deep voice was heard from behind her. She turned to find the charming privateer flashing a smile at her. "Looking forward to working with you, darling" He commented, offering his hand out and all. She took it and shook half-heartedly, eager to just go home and sleep for the rest of the evening.

"Me too, handsome" Irony laced in her tone. "Doesn't seem like it, you alright? You look like a ghost. Lovely, yes, but still ghostly" The comment made her smile, tightening the grasp on his hand but not shaking anymore "Just hungover s'all" "Told you so!" Jesper proclaimed from their side as everyone directed themselves to the door.

The privateer smiled sweetly. "Got any plans this evening?" "Other than rotting in my room until my body stops hurting? Not really. Why?" Y/N looked down briefly, realizing she still hadn't let go of his hand and then released her grasp "Well, if my days at sea have thought me anything other than how to read the stars..." he started, tapping the necklace with a star charm the girl sported.

A "gift" from Kaz (some jewelry that wasn't redeemed from a heist he let her keep). "...is how to cure a hangover. Mind coming with me to a bar? You can decide which". Going to a bar with a complete stranger who had a reputation of being in trouble most of the time and who she were to work with? Sure thing.

"Promise youll make it go away?" "Promise".

˚ · • . °

And what a plot twist he was. Jesper had jokingly said to the girl that she shouldn't take a privateer's word but he did termiante her hangover with some strange, black-ish liquid she didn't dare to ask the composition of. Then they drank more.

As the drinks arrived, they raised their glasses, the clink of crystal breaking the spell of their silent connection. Sturmhond smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "To new adventures and unexpected encounters," he proposed, his voice smooth and velvety.

Y/N couldn't help but return the smile, feeling the warmth of excitement spread through her veins. "To embracing the unknown," she replied, raising her glass in agreement. They took a sip, the flavors dancing on their tongues. A comfortable silence settled between them, allowing the sounds of the bar to envelop them. After a moment, Sturmhond leaned in, his voice low and captivating.

"So, Y/N, what brings you to this lawless corner of the world?". He asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words. Y/N's eyes sparkled as she recounted her journey, the challenges she faced, and the dreams that fueled her determination. Sturmhond listened intently, his attention unwavering, as if she held the secrets of a hidden treasure.

As she spoke, Y/N couldn't help but notice the genuine interest in Sturmhond's eyes. He asked thoughtful questions and shared stories of his own adventures, effortlessly weaving tales of daring escapades that left Y/N hanging on his every word.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, a seamless exchange of ideas, dreams, and aspirations. Time seemed to melt away as they delved into deeper discussions, finding solace in the connection they were building. Laughter intertwined with their words, a symphony of shared amusement and understanding.

They became lost in each other's company, entranced by the way their thoughts aligned and their hearts danced to the same rhythm. And as the night wore on, their conversation continued, their new found connection growing stronger with every passing moment.

She couldn't help but think of Kaz, when exiting the bar, and on the way back to The Slat. When would he ever, in a million years, make her feel so seen? How could he? He seemed to be nothing but cold and a bad type of confusing to the girl.

Y/N was not blind, either. Sturmhond was known for his endless romantic encounters with women across the sea, and he was interested in her. Now, she could not deny the guy was a charming boy too pretty for this Earth, sharp as a knife and, as she found out that evening, shared a lot of ideals and interests with her.

Could he maybe work as a rebound? Maybe. Would she shamelessly use him as that? Could be. Having his eyes on her that whole meeting was no coincidence, and she liked his attention. Maybe what mends a broken heart was a handsome privateer.

They agreed to meet up the next day, his treat.

˚ · • . °

Back at the Slat, Kaz was fuming. No, not fuming; seething. A bar outing? She just met him! He could not believe his eyes when they were talking hand in hand like they had known each other from a previous lifetime.

In the little time that had passed since (most of) the crows had returned from the meeting, Kaz had already gotten four drunks kicked out, death-stared a group of dregs twice so they'd shorten their break time to get them to work and downed four vodka shots.

Why was he this mad? She wasn't even his and as far as she knew; he had no intentions of being hers either. The boy couldn't be mad at her, but he was, and Kaz knew very well he was being a big selfish shit. He could not blame Y/N either; the bastard she had been crushing on gives no signs of interest but a privateer handsome as the devil shows up with his attention completely focused on her? Of course she'd fall.

He just hated that feeling.

It's presence looms, heavy and suffocating, wrapping its tendrils around the heart, constricting with an iron grip. It whispers sweet poison into the mind, distorting reality and fueling irrational fears. Like a tempestuous storm, it rages within, lightning crackling with envy, thunder rumbling with resentment. It paints the world in hues of green, tarnishing every joyous moment with a bitter aftertaste.

And then his heart sunk into the depths of his dark soul when he saw them walk in hand in hand. That was the first time Y/N had walked into a room and not looked for him, he noticed. She was laughing at something Sturmhond had said as they walked up the stairs until they reached the door of Y/N's room. He kissed her hand and she kissed his cheek.

The privateer then walked down the stairs, noticing Kaz staring.

"She's one of a kind, that one... Might stay a bit more after the job's done. See you tomorrow, Brekker"

The feeling was now leaving an empty, bottomless void in his soul. He bottomed his shot glass then poured another one.

˚ · • . °

Time kept ticking and the void intensified, but Kaz learnt how to deal with it.

He learnt how to deal with it when he kissed her after the job was done.

He learnt how to deal with it when Y/N took a break from the crows to leave with him for six months.

He learnt how to deal with it when she returned from her trip, beautiful tan skin and a diamond on her finger.

He learnt how to deal with it when he saw her crying herself to sleep because she missed him.

He learnt how to deal with it when she left for good.

He learnt how to deal with it when she was named queen of Ravka.

Kaz just learnt how to live with the shame and regret of not recognizing that the one thing he needed was right in front of him, hoping she'd have a place next to him.

˚ · • . ° .

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